So we are going to depart to a refugee camp somewhere in central Denmark from Copenhagen. The day before I ventured out as I ate so much and had to go outside and walk around and see where I was. I found a bicycle there, with a flat rear tired. I had not ridden on a bicycle for months, so I got on the bike and started to ride around. It felt good to be on a bicycle. I would see all these busses come in, pick up refugees and take them away. Now I know it was to different camps all over Denmark.

The next day we packed up our bags and got on a bus. My two uncles one we did not know about that was about to get executed, and the one that had a little mouse hunting poodle were already in a refugee camp in Frederikshavn, a town in norther Denmark.

We were on our way to Kraeglund. We drove all day and most of the night on a bus. I remember falling asleep next to my sister and waking up every few hours to see us just going on the road with the road signs and kilometer markers passing by. We have been on the road for a week already since leaving Croatia and sleeping on a bus sitting up the whole time made us all tired and irritated.

We finally arrived, it was morning hours. Still dark but I could not see anything where we were. Looked like an old building that was ready to fall apart, the road there was a dirt road. We were met by one of the Danish refugee workers there by the bus. They took us to an adjecent building by the large buidling. this building was the place where they held horses, which was later turned in to housing units for families. Inside we had five beds, couple bunk beds and one single bed.

We put our stuff under the beds and went to bed, my mother was crying and my fathers cousin was there with his wife and two kids too, as he left from Croatia the same time as we did and he asked to be sent to the same refugee camp to be with family. On the way to Kraeglund we stopped where my uncles were in Frederikshavn, that was the first time I have seen my cousins and my uncles. I was so happy to see them alive, the joy in my heart was one of a kind. Even though I was tired and sleepy, I was wide awake and so happy to see them. They were housed temporarily in a school gymnasium, hundreds of bunk beds in one gymnasium. My father said, we are going to Kraeglund, I am tired of schools and being around people so much.

When we arrived to Kraeglund my mom was crying and saying, I dont want to stay here, its so dark, its in the middle of nowhere. No lights and a dirt road, there are probablly wolves and bears around here. It was dark when we got there and really you could not see much at all, once the bus left, you could only see a few lights and complete darkness around.

The next morning we woke up, I ventured out with my father to see where we were, dirt roads leading in to the place, looks like an old hunting lodge, about 5 stories tall, and about 30 rooms or so. Large kitchen and dining area, adjecent to that were stalls for the animals, but they were converted to living quarters. For me it was good enough, no sniper fire, not mortars and no airplane raids. I was happy to be there.

We got to the breakfast area, food and food and lots of food, Ceral, milk, cookies, pancakes, jam it was all there. And it was free and plenty of it. I had to get used to seeing something like that. I was thankful for this country, I was thankful to these people.

There was telvision there too, I did not speak the language, had no idea what they were saying, but it was a satelite television with American chanels, TBS, TNT, Speed channel etc. It was all in German, but I did not care, it was first time watching tv for me in months. I would put on Speed chanel and watch F1 and Moto Gp a lot.

The camp was an old hunting lodge for the queen of Denmark, she donated it to the red cross. So obviously it was not thar run down, but there was overgrown brush everywhere. We lived there for about a year. All five of us were given bicycles. Everyone in the camp almost had a bicycle. I spent a lot of time riding the nice empty roads with my brother and second cousin. We would take the back dirt roads and be gone for hours on trips.

Once a week they would take us in to the city and the local swimming pool. I loved going there and swimming in the pool. For me life was good after the war in Bosnia.

I spent a lot of time going fishing with my father, he changed a lot, he did not speak much at all. I did not speak much at all either, we could spend 6 hours in one spot fishing without saying a word to each other.

We were allowed to go to the local school in the town nearby. I had a reallly hard time adjusting to the people there. The Danish kids and the girls were realy nice to me. But I did not know the language, and there was no such thing as an ESL class or anything like that for the immigrants in the small town.

Going to class, sitting down and having no idea what anyone said made me more even depressed and not want to talk to anyone. Sometimes the kids would try to talk to me, especially the girls, I would just shake my head like a moron and walk away. After a few months of being like that, the teacher gave up, the kids gave up. No one cared anymore about us or wanted to talk to us, me my younger brother and second cousin.

Once a week they would make everyone go to the center of the school and they would bring out a cross, and sing and pray I presume. At first we went there, and did not know the language or what was said, on top of that we were Muslim faith, and felt like we were being harassed for that. In Bosnia we were persecuted, shot, murdered and all that, and here we are again being made to stand in attention under the cross.

One day I decided that I wanted to go outside and play basketball while the Danish kids had their prayer, I did not want to bother them or say anything since I did not speak a word of Danish.

As I was heading for the door, one of the teachers I had never been in class with, grabbed me by my arm and pointed to the cross, yelled at me something and put his hands on my shoulders grabbed my by my ear and led me back to the spot where I was. Grabbed my shoulders and pinned my against the wall when I tried to move again. As he grabbed my shoulders and pushed my against the wall, I grabbed him by his throat and pushed him back.

By this time, the whole school was silent, and everyone had turned toward us and was staring at us. He lifted his hand as he was going to slap me, I got even closer to him, staring at him in the eyes, I do not know what he saw in my eyes, but he let me go. I walked out and sat down on the benches nearby. My brother and second cousin followed me out. They never made us pray again, nor did anyone mention anything about it to us ever back in the camp. I thought my dad was going to murder me.


MY parents urged my to make friends with the Danish people, my father started working around the camp for free. He asked for tools such as lawnmower and law cutting stuff to clear the hedges and the brush. The danis workers where were so suprised and happy how nice he made the place look. The whole family worked, it was like a hobby to us.

I could not make any friends, I just felt more and more distant from everyone. I started having constant stomach pains. Day after day, I could not sleep for nights at a time how bad my pains were. I would go to the doctor with a translator. But they could never figure out what was wrong with me.

They took me to a therapist and the therapist tried to figure it out, ask me all kinds of questions about the war back home. The translater would ask me and I would not say much, I just did not feel like talking about it at all. I was not too happy to talk about it, but the pain was always there. Some days it was fine, some days it was bad.

The therapist tried to claim that it was trauma, and there was not much they could do about it.