In the Sea There Are Crocodiles - Fabio Geda [0]
Translation copyright © 2011 by Howard Curtis
All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Doubleday, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
Originally published in Italy as Nel mare ci sono i coccodrilli by B.C. Dalai editore, Milan, in 2010. This translation first published in Great Britain by Harvill Secker, an imprint of the Random House Group Limited, London.
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Jacket illustration by Edel Rodriquez
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Geda, Fabio, 1973–
[Nel mare ci sono i coccodrilli. English]
In the sea there are crocodiles : based on the true story of Enaiatollah Akbari:
a novel / by Fabio Geda; translated by Howard Curtis. — 1st ed.
p. cm.
1. Akbari, Enaiatollah—Childhood and youth. 2. Afghanistan—History—1989–2001—Biography. 3. Akbari, Enaiatollah—Travel. 4. Boys—Afghanistan—Biography. 5. Political refugees—Afghanistan—Biography. 6. Afghans—Italy—Biography. 7. Political refugees—Italy—Biography. 8. Immigrants—Italy—Biography. I. Title.
DS371.33.A32G4313 2011
305.9′06914092—dc22
[B] 2011012171
eISBN: 978-0-385-53474-1
v3.1
Contents
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Author’s Note
Afghanistan
Pakistan
Iran
Turkey
Greece
Italy
About the Authors
Author’s Note
I met Enaiatollah Akbari at a book presentation where I was speaking about my first novel, the story of a Romanian boy’s life as an immigrant in Italy. Enaiatollah came up to me and said he’d had a similar experience. We got talking. And we didn’t stop. I never tired of listening to his experiences, and he didn’t tire of dredging them from his memory. After we’d known each other for a while, he asked me if I would write his story down, so that people who had suffered similar things could know they were not alone, and so that others might understand them better.
This book is therefore based on a true story. But, of course, Enaiatollah didn’t remember it all perfectly. Together we painstakingly reconstructed his journey, looking at maps, consulting Google, trying to create a chronology for his fragmented memories. I have tried to be as true to his voice as possible, retelling the story exactly as he told it. But for all that, this book must be considered to be a work of fiction, since it is the re-creation of Enaiatollah’s experience—a re-creation that has allowed him to take possession of his own story. At his request, the names of some of the people mentioned have been changed.
Fabio Geda, Turin 2010
Afghanistan
The thing is, I really wasn’t expecting her to go. Because when you’re ten years old and getting ready for bed, on a night that’s just like any other night, no darker or starrier or more silent or more full of smells than usual, with the familiar sound of the muezzins calling the faithful to prayer from the tops of the minarets just like anywhere else … no, when you’re ten years old—I say ten, although I’m not entirely sure when I was born, because there’s no registry office or anything like that in Ghazni province—like I said, when you’re ten years old, and your mother, before putting you to bed, takes your head and holds it against her breast for a long time, longer than usual, and says, There are three things you must never do in life, Enaiat jan, for any reason … The first is use drugs. Some of them taste good and smell good and they whisper in your ear that they’ll make you feel better than you could ever feel without them. Don’t believe them. Promise me you won’t do it.
I promise.
The second is use weapons. Even if someone hurts your feelings or damages your memories, or insults God, the earth or men, promise me you’ll never pick up a gun, or a knife, or a stone, or even the wooden ladle we use for making qhorma palaw, if that ladle can be used to hurt someone. Promise.
I promise.
The third is cheat or steal. What’s yours belongs to you, what isn’t doesn’t. You can earn the money you