We used to fit a family of 5 onto a truck which could only hold 3.
I remember vividly my mum telling me to keep my head low and not to move a muscle. 5 years old, scared, cold and huddled beneath the dashboard of the passenger seat. A cotton blanket spread over me not to keep me warm (as I would have liked to believe at the time) but to keep me hidden as we were being smuggled across the city. I didn’t think much of it at the time, I still look back and wonder whether I thought it was “normal” to do something like that. In one of my earliest memories, I know that my parents taught me a valuable lesson; that sometimes you just have to improvise.
I remember my dad, with his body outstretched against the window nervously counting into the breathalyser, the sounds of mumbling, the numbers fumbling. I don’t blame him, how hard it must have been in a foreign country, a foreign language….with foreign laws. What were my parents thinking?! The nerve they had, the carelessness to do something like that. But even through all of this, in a twist of fate I realise that I am still here well and alive, their rebellious plan worked and our family did have a wonderful vacation in the end.
I wouldn’t like to say that the ends justify the means here because promoting this sort of law-breaking would just be wrong not to mention outright dangerous. But hey, sometimes things just work out right? :’)
P.s. Oh, and you’re probably wondering where my older brother, the 5th member of the family was. Well, he was in the back of the truck hidden in-between boxes of vegetables stacked head high. But hey, that’s a story for another day.