a letter from iran

the writer: the grass continues to be greener on the other side of the fence.

a letter from iran
author: aboulghader balooch - vancouver

 < goonagoon magazine, vancouver>
 < no. 16, vol. 1, friday january 5, 2007 >

just the rent alone for a one bedroom apartment is 500 dollars. of course you can find one cheaper. but either around hasting area, between main street and pigeon park which is the hangout of dealers, or in new west minister around the sky train station that even in the light of the day, a camel with his load is not safe from thieves.

even if you get any money from the house of poor  other wise known as well-fair it would be around 3 to 4 hundred dollars  which to claim, every month you have to show paper loads of proof that you are sick or can't find work. 40 dollars phone bill, 50 dollars utilities, along with rent comes to 600 dollars a month. along with breakfast, lunch, dinner, bath and washing up, easily works out to 1000 dollars a month. the hell with movies, and restaurants and parties and chasing after girls.

i get out the door at 6 in the morning, catch the bus on columbia bus station  and still dosing, get myself to the express train. i offer my seat to someone so i won't fall asleep sitting on the way while the train is getting us to the sea bus. there, i run as fast as i can so i can catch the sea bus one minute before it leaves so i can get to north vancouver.

half asleep, on the other side of the water, i catch another bus and finally arrive at work. half the day is spent carrying massive alberta beef carcasses into the cooler room.

once i finish work there, i rush to get downtown to start my second job - working at a grocery store.

i finish at 9. it takes around 2 hours to get home. and tomorrow its the same story all over again. last night when i got home and went to check my mail, i had a letter from my brother - father of 11 kids who still lives in iran:

"damn you, you bastard of a brother, its nice how you saved yourself and have forgotten what we have to endure to earn a bite to eat. thats fine! you have fun with the green eyed blond girls over there and we  will go on labouring to death over here. i know how to teach you a lesson if you ever show up around here again!"

i threw the letter to a corner and went to bed. tomorrow i had to open shop for the butcher.