Arriving in Birmingham

I entered for the first time , not my first time travelling, but my first time arriving on my own. I presented my passport. There was this one... what do you call it? The security and all that. First thing ,what is it? No, when you go to submit. It's called customs. Customs. Yes, those things. I didn't know what that office was. Anyway, I presented my green Libyan passport. They were going back and forth, examining the visa and checking everything. They asked questions. Then they told me to step aside. Because it was my first time, with the visa and everything. They were a bit suspicious. I told them my husband was outside , that he was responsible for me. They said okay. They were polite and decent about it. They told me to wait to the side while they let the other passengers through. They took my passport. Then after a while , about 20 or 30 minutes, they brought it back and told me I could go.

They'd taken the passport and gone outside, asked Dad some questions. They asked him everything. Then they came back and said I could leave. I took my bag, went out, and found Dad outside. It had been a while since I'd seen him — since March. And I came out. The light was different. It was September. The temperature was different compared to Malta and Libya. Libya is very hot. Malta in September is also very hot. But when I stepped out of the airport, I felt the cold. Strange that it was September and so cold. I knew September was usually warm. But it was cold. I remember I came out in a light jacket and straight away I was freezing and put on a coat. Then the journey from Birmingham — how far is it from Birmingham? About two hours. Maybe two hours. It was all night.

All the roads were dark. Dark because it was the countryside, you understand. I couldn't see anything. I was trying to make out what the city looked like from the window — just sitting there staring at little dots of light. That's the country, that's what it looks like. What a shame I couldn't see it properly. I arrived on a night journey. As soon as I left the airport it was dark, and I couldn't see a thing. I wanted to see the city, even just the city lights. But only simple lights. We arrived at our place it was a flat upstairs. Near the hospital. It was cold. I went inside and it was so small. I felt like I was in a toy house , like I was in a cartoon. We're used to big houses in Libya. Big. When you walk in, you always find the entrance hallway, then this big reception area, high ceilings, a large, spacious home.

And the ceiling is so high you can barely reach it. But this place is tiny. I felt like I'd shrunk. I was laughing. I felt like I was in one of those children's play sets. The house was tiny. All of it tiny. I was laughing. Even the bed was tiny. Even the bed was tiny. In Libya we don't have anything called a double bed. A double. We always had king or super king. A double, what is that? That's barely one person with a little extra. Anyway. I was happy Dad was there, poor thing. He didn't know anything proper, having arrived all at once. But he was happy about it. And because it's a cold country and things are small, there's no halal. And this thing, Dad and I needed to eat. He'd cooked for me himself. You can imagine. He'd roasted a chicken. Made rice. Imagine that. He'd bought a roast chicken ,no, he'd bought a raw chicken and roasted it himself. And made rice. That's what I remember. And of course he'd made a proper salad by himself. We had dinner and went to sleep. The next day, sunrise. Light streamed in from the window.