Overland to Sanctuary

Overland to Sanctuary1

My journey was long, tiring and at times frightening. How can I write on paper the haunting memories, the dreadful feelings, which led me to flee my beloved motherland, and the details of interminable desolate journey? That is hard but the time has now come to let the people of Canada know what it means to be a Canadian for me.2

There was only one way to come to this land. That was overland from New York to the Canadian border, as the Canadian High Commissioner in Sri Lanka rejected my application for a visa to enter Canada. 3

A close friend of mine contacted his friend Trevor in New York and asked about the possibilities of entering Canada through America. He said, "I don't know about that. I certainly can pick her up from the New York Airport. She can stay with me for a few days since I hear that she is facing a dangerous situation." 4

I had to be hiding as we found out that all those who held office in the Liberation Movement was sought to be killed. I was the secretary of that movement. The suitcase with my clothes was already at the Airport when I arrived there. My husband, daughter and a few friends were standing beside it. I saw them after a few months. So "Good bye, my beloved family and friends. Adieu, my land, I love you dearly." With tears filled eyes we embraced each other, and then I started my exodus. 5

Although I was on a bold adventure, at times fear numbed my mind. Sometimes in a flash, I saw, Leon our secretary, well built and strong, six feet tall with his usual smile standing beside me, with a pile of newspapers of our 'Liberation Movement.' Then speaking to me; "Debbie, distribute these papers fast. Our obstinate ruler in this 'democratic' Island is massacring the people. We have to teach our nation what they should do."6

He had an air of confidence. Suddenly, it flashed across my mind seeing his mutilated body in pieces at the bank of Kelani River. No more that confident smile and no more a face. "Leon it grieves me, my heart breaks to know what pain you underwent at the hands of the merciless 'Death Squad' of our ruler. My comrade, I love your confidence and strength and at last may you rest in peace." 7

All my fears vanished when that torturous memory danced in front of me. I knew, if I had stayed back I would have to face the same appalling death. I woke up from my reverie when the pilot announced, "Fasten your seat belts. We are now about to land at New York" 8

Trevor was there holding the board with my name. He was faithful. However it was well clear to me that New York was not going to be my final destination.9

During the following couple of days, all kinds of information and all resources were put together to find out the end of my journey. Have you ever had the feeling of not knowing where you stand, what to do, and where to go? Desolation overcame me. Sometimes I wept, sometimes I heaved, but I had hope. Suddenly it dawned upon me that my definite destination had to be Canada. 10

I will never forget December 1989 and that winter. On the 8th of December 1989, the day after I arrived in New York, Trevor drove me to the Greyhound bus terminal at 10.pm. The line was long and I was at the end of it. My mind was occupied with a feeling of remorse and constant thoughts of my family, friends and my country. Finally, the bus to Canada arrived. Passengers were moving and then it came to my turn to get in. The operator was stern, he searched into my passport and said, "Lady, you can't board the bus. You don't have a Canadian Visa." My heart sank. Where could I go in that vast land in the middle of night? The money in my pocket was barely enough to cover my expenses. I had heard many stories about America. Some of them frightened me as I stood alone with my huge blue suitcase at the massive bus terminal. Suddenly, I thought of what my mother taught me when I was a little girl. I repeated the twenty-third psalm, "Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for Thou are with me."11

Just then, a big strong African man was advancing towards me. Surely, I must have looked pathetic, for he addressed me, "Are you all right?'" He appeared as a mass of flesh to me. I was so scared and could hear my heart pounding pitter-patter in my chest. No words came out of my mouth, as I stood petrified, staring at him. Nevertheless, his broad smile and manners made me comfortable at once. That built some confidence in me as to tell him my plight and my insecurity about my next move. 12

Then that strange, but amiable, man suggested,
"The best thing to do is to return to your friend Trevor."
I asked, "How can I do that?"
He showed me a pay phone.
"Does that require money to operate?" I questioned.
"Of course you need a US quarter." He replied.
Then I said, "I neither have a US quarter nor do I know how to operate it."
"OK give me the telephone number I will call him."
I quickly gave it to the large man. He took it and headed to the phone booth.
Trevor instructed him to take me to the upper floor of the bus terminal. That strong man carried my bag easily up the steps. He directed me to the right place.
He said, "You stay here I will keep an eye on you till Trevor picks you up."
When Trevor arrived, the strange man waved good-bye and disappeared. 13

Next day I had to find another route. I was in deep thought, imagining, planning and scheming the journey of my escape. Then, suddenly, I came to my senses with the ring of the telephone. It was my husband, Norton. I was delighted to hear his voice. He did bring me good news. Norton told me that he contacted a friend, Frank in Montreal, and gave his telephone number. I contacted Frank at once. Frank informed me that the only way to enter Canada was by asking for refugee status at the Canadian border, he also advised me that no one should bring me to the border, as it was illegal. He suggested that I could be dropped at the Duty Free shop on the American side of the border. Well, that was my ticket to freedom. 14

I found a way to go to the Duty Free shop and my plan was to walk to the Canadian border from there. Early the morning, Trevor drove me to the domestic airport in New York. I boarded the plane to Burlington and from there I had to take another plane to Platsberg. First time in those foreign lands, everything seemed alien to me. Yet the fear that existed in my mind now and then was won over by my steadfast, decisive will to survive.15

The cab driver that drove me from Platsberg to the Duty Free shop covered about two third of the journey. Then suddenly he turned round and said, "Madam please leave the cab, I don't want to go any further." I was simply stunned, nevertheless I got off in windy, stormy, snowy weather - inconceivable from anything I have ever known in my tropical Island. The gushing wind and flakes of snow were beating against me. There was not a soul on the highway except the vehicles that whisked off beyond sight. Suddenly I felt lonely in that vast land. It was the first time I saw snow,and therefore I never knew about the danger of a snowstorm. However, I courageously took the bag in my hand and walked in the same direction as the vehicle. The bag was getting heavier and heavier with each step, but the glimpse of some shops at a distance rekindled my endurance. By that time my teeth were clattering and I was shivering with the severe cold. My fingers and toes were almost frozen and burning. Although I had some warm clothes, they barely kept me warm. I never expected the bitterness of winter to thwart me. As I reached the doors of the buildings, to my total dismay I found them closed. 16

Hesitantly, slowly and heavily I returned to the storm and continued, passing the buildings. Soon I realized what I was heading was a cul-de-sac, and I stood facing a barbed-wire fence. There are no words in my English vocabulary to explain the most painful feeling that overwhelmed me. I had no other choice than to turn back. How much I then longed to go back home! My grief was great! Then I remembered my motherland with burning cities, charred vehicles and moans of dying beings mixed with rising flames, vanishing in the sky to oblivion, and the way the death was chasing me. Immediately, I closed my eyes, bowed my head and prayed. "Heavenly Father, Beloved God don't forsake me. Please take my hand, lead Thou me on."17

As I turned back wearily, I came to the same shop. It was a joy to see that it was now opened. At last I had reached the American Duty Free Shop. There was absolutely nothing I could buy. Even if I wanted, neither my purse did allow me the opportunity to do so nor had I the intention of purchasing anything. Nonetheless I had to linger a while in the shop till I felt warm and fit enough to resume my journey. I had to find the road to Canada. I was afraid to ask for the way to Canada directly, as Frank had advised me that such a query would lead me to difficulty. The shop was warm and cozy with a despondent and dejected looking woman behind the counter. My forced smile brought same to her face as well. She immediately responded by welcoming me saying, "You look so cold and must be shivering," please sit at this table, "I will give you a hot drink," and offered me the only stool in the store. To my surprise, she poured me a glass of wine. I thanked her but declined it.18

Apparently, she too was longing for company. I was glad of the circumstance and sat there for a little longer than an hour listening very attentively to her sad tale of woe. She concluded, "I am so relieved that God sent someone to this solitary place to listen to my pain." In my heart I silently offered, "Thank-you God for leading me to such a place in an excruciating moment of agony to keep me warm." I stood up to go. The woman asked me, "Where are you going?" I said, "I want to go to Canada, but I have lost my way," Instantly it occurred to me to ask her whether she could take me back to New York at the end of the day. Amazingly she replied. "Never keep hand on the yoke and look back, but go forward and plough the field." Then she went near a window and pointed her finger to a far away fork of the road. She advised me, "Don't take the lower road. The upper road will lead you to the Canadian border." She took an old pair of gloves from her drawer and said, "Wear these. They are better than the ones you have." That was my second encounter with a stranger and that too had been a source of strength.19

Back again on the road, this time revitalized with hope I trudged along. It was a long way to Canada. The breeze and the snow continued. Hunger and cold exhausted me. It was indeed the worst ordeal I ever experienced in my life. Suddenly I saw a row of little sheds in the desert of snow. I thought that I would run in to one of them. As I quickened my pace, I saw a man seated in one of them who beckoned me to come in. I asked him. "Where is the Canadian border?" He said, "Madam you have reached it. Right where you stand is the great border that divided the United States from Canada." I shouted "Eureka!" words of praise, adoration and enthusiasm flowed from my mouth and my heart danced with joy. My hunger and fatigue vanished into the thin air. Another chapter, a new era and new life dawned before me again. Canada, Oh! Canada my sanctuary, I love you with all my heart.20

True Story - Padmkumari De Alwis