Shanga Karim

Journalism and advocacy work in womens organizations.
I was a voice for those women who faced honour killings, FGM, and
violence in Kurdistan, Northern Iraq.
Languages: Kurdish, English.

First Days

“We have a meeting with a lawyer” my husband reading the mail which came in the brown envelope. Yes, I said, finally we have a lawyer Great! How can we get to go to Vancouver to see our lawyer and then maybe to the beach for a walk?”. I asked. “You need to take buses to get there” my husband replied,
“ three buses to Surrey and one skytrain to get to Vancouver then one more bus to take you to the lawyer’s office”.

“No, No, No, I am not taking that many buses I exclaimed with a still happy face looking forward to going to Vancouver from Abbotsford where I lived. I wanted to spend time in Vancouver and walk all around the city and visit all the landmarks I heard about it. My husband was looking at me, and said in a serious voice “Shanga , It’s the only way we do not have a car yet!”.
“We woke at 5 am. We start walking past the beautiful lake which was between the house and the first bus station. It looked beautiful with the white lillies but I feel only sadness. Why nothing makes me feel happy? I don’t know! We reached Vancouver after many hours and were so happy to find our lawyer’s office after
walking around the same place three to four times! We walked in and knocked the door. I was fretting. How will it be? What will he ask? How can I answer with my little English?
A man in a suit unlocked the door. “Do you have appointment?” I said “yes”.“Ok wait”, he said that without
looking at us or giving us a smile, I stopped smiling and tried to be serious like him.
After a few minutes, he opened the door and said “come on in”. We tried to sit on the chairs unsure whether to say anything or not. He looked so busy. “Who is Shanga”? I said “me” quickly.
He started to explain what his role was as a lawyer and what we should do. He said “tell me about yourself”. I felt relieved. “I am from Kurdistan, I was a journalist and I had to leave because…..” “Stop stop”, he started to ask me specific questions and I tried to answer, but he seemed frustrated and I felt stupid. He told me to slow down, “Don’t answer my questions before listening”. Then he brought in an interpreter who shook hands with us and said “chawaani bashi” in Krmanji kurdish dialect…
We started again, with questions and answers, the interpreter rounded his head to us and asked “tanaskrd?” My mind froze. I even forgot all my sadness. I asked my husband, can you translate it for me please? I don’t
understand the interpreter’s Kurdish dialect! The lawyer is perplexed. “It’s the same language! Why you don’t understand each other?? If you listen carefully, then you can understand.” But the one who didn’t want to
understand was the lawyer, and I told him,” I replied that so many times, that I can understand you more than the interpreter, but you even don’t want to think about what I am saying.
In Kurdistan I was fighting for women who suffered from lack of respect in society, but here in Canada a lawyer was chiding me and everything was going wrong! We finished our first meeting without understanding each other. It was already late and we had to head back home taking so many buses and the sky train again.
How hard it is to start a new life in another big country with all the stress and sadness, you can’t be same person as you were anymore, you can’t smell the same way as you did, you can’t laugh from the bottom of your heart as you did, and you can’t have same lovers that is the hardest to live without. We missed one bus from Aldergrove to Abbotsford and the next one will come after an hour and half. Then we will go home
walking past the lake without seeing it’s beauty.