“They smiled their way up to the hill, towards their houses, each carrying a bamboo basket filled with wood and food from the town. The basket was heavy, almost same size as their tiny overworked bodies.
Life was simple for them: they could afford to think of only here and now, so they made the best out of the present moment.
They were poor, they could barely get their basic needs covered, but little enjoyments and entertainments were necessary to keep on living. An old TV in their house where a real bed or door were missing, tobacco and rice wine to celebrate the new crops, laughter and jokes till morning.
From the outside it looked like they are connected to nature and to their roots, but you only needed a glimpse behind the curtain to see their suffering of being stuck under the oppression of the community rules, of their own poverty and ignorance.
They thrived for more, but were not listened to, were marginalized for their differences rather than accepted for the common values. The whole tribe was a big family, they suffered together, played, raised their children, lived and died in their bubble. Being part of a small tribe comes with the burden of the whole community deciding your fate, as well as you deciding the fate of others. All this, but the freedom of being yourself, not just a social name.”
text: Simina Cernat