What do you know about me? | Participation
Home Who we are What we did Collaborations Ongoing initiatives contrast to the social marginality: ... Multimedia Collaborations Peace Camp [... Days of Rajaa's Art (the art of ... Contact kitchen islands for sale Contact How to support the Presidency Contact Management Contact Management Report Report Articles Initiatives Request Info Contact the Webmaster Legal Reserved kitchen islands for sale
Environment Anti-Mafia moving Appeals / initiatives Art and Culture Literature Poetry Theatre Calendar Human Rights Universal kitchen islands for sale Declaration of Human Rights ... Palestine Economy Integration / Interaction Employment Policy Reportage / Special Investigations TAV Shared Reflections Satire Miscellaneous
* Press about the downtime today in Val di Susa * Blackmail disguised as contracts: Reggio Emilia, public transport. kitchen islands for sale The case Facets kitchen islands for sale of a strange day, between opening of the Village of Peace and Mediopadana Hello Don that we've made you a great gift The Cost of Living (Turin)
vek of Reggio Emilia: OTHER CITIES TRICOLOUR - shows, installations, testimonies (various events) Alarm gianbert of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced to close! Alarm meiresist of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced kitchen islands for sale to close! Alarm participation of the School of Italian Word of mouth: kitchen islands for sale no home, forced to close! Alarm gianbert of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced to close!
I was four years old when the soldiers arrived, many were little older than me. I remember that day only the screams and the sound of the machete that cut the meat. The color of the earth and the blood was all one.
The next day I woke up, I had a cut on his head and the taste of blood in my mouth, my village was burned, the men almost all dead on the ground, but the strange thing 'that there were no more' women and children .
Almost immediately met a man, he was my grandfather, kitchen islands for sale staring at me with eyes that seemed made of glass, was motionless, appeared to be dead, the only sign of life a tear them furrowed face. I lay down at his feet and fell asleep.
They took me to one of those notorious African prisons, housed in a huge warehouse, we were thousands, with one open pit latrine, an amalgam of meat and feces, a Dantesque. I survived for a year when then, as I did not know the reason for my arrest, so I could not because I was freed.
I went back to my village, and found myself still my grandfather. I saw him stand up after so many years, with his white robe, for the first time I felt like a god, clutching a roll of banknotes worn out, he told me ...... with this money will go to Europe.
He and the survivors of my village, they had sold everything, animals, trees, huts, earth, ......... themselves. The whole village was sold for a handful of money, at least give someone a chance 'redemption. that someone was me.
I thought that the trip would have done sitting, including chickens, fat women and children, for the first time I was happy, I was excited but ..... proceeding, the passengers became less and less, and the landscape more and more 'arid, more and more 'desert.
They came with rayban men, their eyes have not seen, but their screams were without a soul. A shiver ran down along the back, a feeling of death ......... not felt in a long time.
We begin to travel again .. "But they forgot the water?" I thought. The temperature on the back of the truck where we were crammed to capacity was becoming unbearable. Hundreds of kilometers, the road disappears, now we are in a desert track .. I fell asleep.
Now I'm two days .. the human load has already thinned (but much of the money they have already taken all the drivers) kitchen islands for sale that we discover suddenly be armed with machine guns. Soon understand why.
After hours of non-stop trip we are stopped kitchen islands for sale by two jeeps with armed men approaching, are watching us and touch us like we were animals to the market, the drivers under fire from machine guns other: kitchen islands for sale we were animals to the market. In order to continue taking some of us .......... the most 'young people. We share.
We continue to travel for two more days, until we arrive at a field fenced by barbed wire. There were thousands of people sitting in the sand, which by now had replaced their skin. The truck disappears almost immediately, and we take over the Libyan kitchen islands for sale military that strike us with their rifle butts. There frisk, we take away all that we have left and, laughing, tell us that we had to wait
Home Who we are What we did Collaborations Ongoing initiatives contrast to the social marginality: ... Multimedia Collaborations Peace Camp [... Days of Rajaa's Art (the art of ... Contact kitchen islands for sale Contact How to support the Presidency Contact Management Contact Management Report Report Articles Initiatives Request Info Contact the Webmaster Legal Reserved kitchen islands for sale
Environment Anti-Mafia moving Appeals / initiatives Art and Culture Literature Poetry Theatre Calendar Human Rights Universal kitchen islands for sale Declaration of Human Rights ... Palestine Economy Integration / Interaction Employment Policy Reportage / Special Investigations TAV Shared Reflections Satire Miscellaneous
* Press about the downtime today in Val di Susa * Blackmail disguised as contracts: Reggio Emilia, public transport. kitchen islands for sale The case Facets kitchen islands for sale of a strange day, between opening of the Village of Peace and Mediopadana Hello Don that we've made you a great gift The Cost of Living (Turin)
vek of Reggio Emilia: OTHER CITIES TRICOLOUR - shows, installations, testimonies (various events) Alarm gianbert of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced to close! Alarm meiresist of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced kitchen islands for sale to close! Alarm participation of the School of Italian Word of mouth: kitchen islands for sale no home, forced to close! Alarm gianbert of the School of Italian Word of mouth: no home, forced to close!
I was four years old when the soldiers arrived, many were little older than me. I remember that day only the screams and the sound of the machete that cut the meat. The color of the earth and the blood was all one.
The next day I woke up, I had a cut on his head and the taste of blood in my mouth, my village was burned, the men almost all dead on the ground, but the strange thing 'that there were no more' women and children .
Almost immediately met a man, he was my grandfather, kitchen islands for sale staring at me with eyes that seemed made of glass, was motionless, appeared to be dead, the only sign of life a tear them furrowed face. I lay down at his feet and fell asleep.
They took me to one of those notorious African prisons, housed in a huge warehouse, we were thousands, with one open pit latrine, an amalgam of meat and feces, a Dantesque. I survived for a year when then, as I did not know the reason for my arrest, so I could not because I was freed.
I went back to my village, and found myself still my grandfather. I saw him stand up after so many years, with his white robe, for the first time I felt like a god, clutching a roll of banknotes worn out, he told me ...... with this money will go to Europe.
He and the survivors of my village, they had sold everything, animals, trees, huts, earth, ......... themselves. The whole village was sold for a handful of money, at least give someone a chance 'redemption. that someone was me.
I thought that the trip would have done sitting, including chickens, fat women and children, for the first time I was happy, I was excited but ..... proceeding, the passengers became less and less, and the landscape more and more 'arid, more and more 'desert.
They came with rayban men, their eyes have not seen, but their screams were without a soul. A shiver ran down along the back, a feeling of death ......... not felt in a long time.
We begin to travel again .. "But they forgot the water?" I thought. The temperature on the back of the truck where we were crammed to capacity was becoming unbearable. Hundreds of kilometers, the road disappears, now we are in a desert track .. I fell asleep.
Now I'm two days .. the human load has already thinned (but much of the money they have already taken all the drivers) kitchen islands for sale that we discover suddenly be armed with machine guns. Soon understand why.
After hours of non-stop trip we are stopped kitchen islands for sale by two jeeps with armed men approaching, are watching us and touch us like we were animals to the market, the drivers under fire from machine guns other: kitchen islands for sale we were animals to the market. In order to continue taking some of us .......... the most 'young people. We share.
We continue to travel for two more days, until we arrive at a field fenced by barbed wire. There were thousands of people sitting in the sand, which by now had replaced their skin. The truck disappears almost immediately, and we take over the Libyan kitchen islands for sale military that strike us with their rifle butts. There frisk, we take away all that we have left and, laughing, tell us that we had to wait
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