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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

A Fairy Out of Her Tale - Dear Diary - 12. Scene 12

In which Nessa faces the first language barriers.

8th January, 1995

Dear Diary of the Sleeping Beauty,

 

I can't believe I slept for so long! I closed my eyes in Mr Stranger's car, and next thing I know I'm in a hospital bed with shape-shifter nurses asking me questions I can't understand. There were 3 of them around me, all wearing those blue hospital gowns and masks like I'm contagious and about to infect the whole country with the murder virus.

When I write it down like that, it makes much more sense. Maybe they think murder is a disease? I didn't think the rules for contact with tainted fairies applied to other non-fairies, but maybe they do?

Anyway, they tried to talk to me and ask questions, but none of their words made sense, and I'm sure it wasn't because I was too sleepy to think properly. I kept shaking my head, I wanted to ask them to speak my language because I didn't know theirs, but my lips were stuck together by my own dried saliva (it was disgusting to think about it then, it's even more so now. Yuck!). It took me a while to be able to speak.

'Fadalesh?' I asked them as a short cut to "do any of you speak Fadalesh?" because I'm sure they wouldn't understand the full sentence.

The nurses all looked confused. Maybe the word for my language in their language is something completely different?

But for them to have no idea... I mean, they must have known I was a fairy. Losing my powers didn't magically teach me a new language. How hard is it to figure out that the fairy can't understand shape-shifter language and try to get some sort of interpreter?

It's not even like there are multiple fairy languages! Sure, the regional dialects drive me nuts sometimes (I would spare even my worst enemy from having to deal with the Fableu people. One dose of their ouioui-bluh-bluh-close-my-mouth-in-a-tiny-hole-to-speak-while-being-rude-to-you attitude was enough for a lifetime!), but any interpreter from another region will be able to get the answers they want.

The nurses have been gone for a while now. Maybe they went to look for that interpreter? They didn't seem happy when they left.

And in the end, I didn't learn anything useful from them. I could tell I was in hospital because one look around made it obvious (the nurses, the beeping machines, the IV glued to the back of my hand, the smell of over-sanitised places... the list goes on). I figured they did something to me because I felt much better than last time I remember being awake. And then I saw the calendar on the wall: 8th January?! Where have the last 3 days gone?

I can't believe I slept that long. I need to ask someone about this. What happened to me all this time? What hospital is this?

The more I write my questions, the more I freak out! It's your fault!

The nurses are coming back. I can see them through the giant window next to the bed (handy view of the whole corridor, as boring and blue as it is). There's someone else with them - I hope it's a interpreter.

That someone else has wings.

Shit.

It's a interpreter alright, but not one I can speak to.

Thanks for reading!
This part of the story was inspired by the situation faced by many LGBT asylum seekers when they need interpreters to help with their claim. A lot of the time, the only interpreters available will be members of the same community they came from (and who are persecuting them), so it's dangerous for the asylum seeker to come out to that interpreter. This obviously gets on the way of their application being processed properly and often ends up being rejected.
So much for finding a safe heaven...

The next scene is already up because I'll be away on Sunday and won't be able to keep to the regular posting schedule. So go on to enjoy (?) the next bit two days earlier! I'll be back on Tuesday.
Copyright © 2018 James Hiwatari; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Ah perhaps I was right; the shapeshifter Mr. Stranger ditched her. Only to possibly resurface in later entries. Ah, cool outcome on the interpretation and asylum seekers who never have their voice listen to.

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On 3/6/2018 at 10:03 AM, D.K. Daniels said:

Ah perhaps I was right; the shapeshifter Mr. Stranger ditched her. Only to possibly resurface in later entries. Ah, cool outcome on the interpretation and asylum seekers who never have their voice listen to.

Yes, Mr Stranger is gone for now. Forever? We may never know...
(I mean, we will, eventually. If he never comes back than we know he was gone forever. But that ruins the dramatic effect, so we can just conveniently brush past it.)

 

Learning about Asylum Seeker experiences is one of those things that makes you want to strangle a government official. They have to be doing it on purpose - put the most clueless people in charge of "assessing" whether someone is LGBT or not. The level of cultural sensitivity (being "gay" means different things around the globe) and even financial sense (they must prove they're gay by buying gay magazines and going to gay nightclubs, never mind we demand they live on £5/week for all their needs and so obviously don't have spare money to do those things even if they want to) makes you lose faith in (the privileged) humanity sometimes. 

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Personally, asylum-seeking means different things to every individual. I don't think just LGBT people are affected by this; unless you live in Russia or one of the war-torn countries. And it's not just the LGBT community conflicted by it. I'm not usually one to debate over religion, politics or money because that's the root of the majority of world problems, but not all. As Charlie Chaplin said, dictators will die, and liberty will never perish. And the land they took from the people, will return to the people.

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4 minutes ago, D.K. Daniels said:

Personally, asylum-seeking means different things to every individual. I don't think just LGBT people are affected by this; unless you live in Russia or one of the war-torn countries. And it's not just the LGBT community conflicted by it. I'm not usually one to debate over religion, politics or money because that's the root of the majority of world problems, but not all. As Charlie Chaplin said, dictators will die, and liberty will never perish. And the land they took from the people, will return to the people.

Yes, people can ask for asylum for a lot of reasons. But the situation I know most about is LGBT Asylum in the UK, where most asylum seekers are from Africa/Middle East and the Home Office has a notoriously poor track record of accessing applications fairly and sensitively. 

It's actually really fun to learn about the cultural differences (not the asylum applications or the reasons people flee their homes, though). Many places see the spectrums of sexuality and gender in a different way than we do, and I love learning about it. :) 

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