23 February, 2009

The Last of the Sarban

She stepped in a puddle on her way home from school. Saiba grumbled as the cold water began to soak through her school-required white tennis shoes to her foot. She had no time to stop and dry it off. If she didn’t hurry, she would be late for the afternoon bus. She looked at her watch. Today was Tuesday. That meant she had Piano, Ballet, and Soccer lessons. The time was 3:13. With a newfound energy she ran towards the bus stop where she could just see the bus rolling in from over the hills.

She got on quickly, not even glancing around at all the other fifth-grade children, clad in the same school uniform- white blouse, denim skirt, long white socks and white sneakers- and sat down, alone, in the back. She sighed as she looked out the window. Even at the age of ten she was wise beyond her years and while everyone else saw cotton and cabbage fields, Saiba saw a future she didn’t want to have at all, and worried that she may be the only one.

As the scenery of rural Soreni rolled by, Saiba couldn’t help but let her mind wander. She had been taught in school to never let her mind wander, for that was a very disobedient thing, and she had been reminded forcefully, several times, the old proverb stating The Tall Nail is Pounded Down. Her country, a fairly large island near the northern pole of New Keva, was increasingly overbearing as the population was literally getting to be too big for the island. The Sarban culture had adopted a one-child lifestyle many centuries ago, when citizens and government found that less children to care for meant more money per person. Nowadays, it was a law, for Soreni had the size of Rakia but the population of Catarika and Kiillaana combined.

Along with the one-child policy, Soreni also had other great restrictions and demands. Pets were not allowed on the island, for they were deemed unsanitary and high-maintenance. Higher-class people got away with owning birds, but even that was considered taboo and against tradition. Saiba’s family was one of the few that owned a bird, although with their busy schedule, they hardly had time to take care of it. In addition, any form of protest or trying to stand out was not allowed and strictly forbidden. People were literally imprisoned for wearing bright clothing or walking barefoot through the streets. In fact, the Sarban government enforced uniforms for every person. They were allowed two school outfits, three work outfits, two nighttime outfits, and one outfit for each activity they were involved in. All had to be approved by the government and could be traded out at the local stores.

Saiba sighed again as the bus made its way towards the giant building where she took piano lessons. She hadn’t seen her parents in over five years. She could hardly remember their names, let alone their faces. It was the norm, but she found it quite sad, really. She lived, like almost all Sarban children, with her grandparents. Her parents were much too busy with their jobs to care for a child. Her father was a top executive for the leading video game company and her mother made a healthy living at a computer store. They often promised to visit but just never found the time. Her grandparents, part of the older working generation, were retired and had lots of time to help raise Saiba the “new and correct way” as the government called it. Saiba couldn’t help but think that her grandparents were oblivious of everything that was going on. Whenever she brought it up, they just pinned it on tradition and let it go at that.

Saiba was tired of her planned childhood. She believed that a child should be with its mother and father, and raised as such. She believed that there should be a time set aside every week-- no-- every day, for parents and child—no--children, to play games, laugh together, and be a true family. She was very tired of being overscheduled. She had piano, ballet, soccer, clarinet, swimming, gymnastics, ballroom dance, calligraphy, cooking, crafting, and was in the Global Cleanup Club. Her days began at 5:30am and ended at nearly 9:00 at night. She was often tired but had no time to rest. She had buses to catch, activities to prepare for, and meals to cram in.

Thinking of her meals reminded her that her lunch was waiting in her bag. She reached in and pulled out, examining it carefully. Half of a kingbun with salty fish and bean paste on the inside, just like she liked. She knew how to make them, but loved the way her grandmother made them. It was so perfectly moist and had the perfect balance of salt and sweet. She also had a small container of grape juice, freshly squeezed from her grandmother’s garden. She ate her kingbun, but this time it didn’t make her happy the way it used to. She was unhappy, and desperately wanted to do something about it.

~~+~0o0~+~~

Nearly ten years later, Saiba has graduated from high school with honors. Now that she is finally on her own, she can choose what to do with her life. However, her choice has angered her parents and her family. She plans on having a family. When she finally told her parents that she was not going to college, they were shocked. In their minds, they had failed. Her father said it was disastrous to have children, for then she would not have a lot of money. When she told him she was planning on having three or four he hung up the phone and refused to speak to her any longer. Her mother was shocked when she heard that Saiba was planning on staying at home to raise a family, while living off the income of her husband. She challenged her saying that the government would never allow it. “I know,” said Saiba, “That’s why I plan on leaving it.”

With that, Saiba and her boyfriend, Buri, left the house, taking one suitcase each of all the most important things they had, and walked to where a deserted cruise ship was waiting. By then, the government had taken away anything of value and had forbade the possession of anything that was deemed “materialistic,” so their suitcases were actually quite light. They both knew what was going to happen in the future. The death rate had been higher than the birthrate for years and every year the class of children grew smaller and smaller until finally the previous year’s children’s class had been just 3400. They both found that shocking. It wouldn’t be long before the whole country of Soreni would collapse and disappear, brought on by the need for money and status. The family had been lost in the shuffle and Saiba was glad she was leaving the corrupted country behind.

The cruise ship sat at the docks, waiting with open arms. It was, to date, the biggest undercover immigrant operation of its kind. The government thought it was just a ship with tourists looking at how successful the country had become. In reality, it was a giant ship designed to take a lucky 60,000 Sarbans to freedom. If it could reach Jainz before being caught, then they were free. Saiba and Buri were some of the first to find out about this act. They were guaranteed the spots- places 22 and 23. They had all of their paperwork ready and had even learned some Jialto to make their lives a little easier upon landing. It was a three-day move for the 60,000 who wanted to leave badly enough to brave the uncertain path to get there. However, their careful planning worked and they were soon on open waters.

This story is obviously unfinished but I think this gives an accurate parody and account of what I wanted to be said. I wrote this in response to reading a National Geographic article about the future of Ch*na's government, and altered it to express my beliefs about work and family. Knowing what I know now about the location and time period of this in relation to Saaiill and Raellia, some parts need to be changed, such as the jobs of Saiba's parents, the available technology, and a couple minor details. This will end up being part of history in the end.

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