He said . did you come for Bajram? - I came Welcome, when did you leave? - umm wait, I haven't come yet, you're trying to catch me running away. Bajram is coming and let's run.

You continued to have fun, went to a café in the center to drink coffee. Full of people. You greeted this one, greeted that one. That's our life. After ten minutes you see someone again who will shout from behind you, "Oh brother, where have you been, welcome. Why didn't you call? Come tomorrow, let's have an iftar in Strugaf." You answer: "Honestly brother I can't, I just came today, there are two or three iftars, mother is mad, they want to eat at home. You don't go to iftar on the eve, this year I planned to stay all Ramazan…. They plan but I know they can't, this year as well they will do the same. From the village after terawih lots come out in all directions. Imagine, even the butcher shops work until 12. Bajram will be here in a few days. Some ask in which mosque will you go for Bajram? You say one up, one down, but this year maybe for the first time I will go. You go home, mother is waiting with nails done. Welcome. What did the imam say? Was there a crowd? Full as always. Oh brother here it's the most beautiful Ramazan. With people it is very personal. See, a few more days and Bajram will pass and everyone will run again. Sit now mother don’t get caught up with all the running. Your knees tremble thinking someone will remember running — what do you want for supper? Do you want me to boil something or make a stew? And so one day passes. The next day you go out again. At noon silence. The second azan is heard. You pray, come out and see. The family members have lined up. Some pick bread, some look for tulumba but only some salad is left. All with some plastic bags. You happily get in line and buy a bit of everything. And as usual, someone treats with halva brought from the village. And so you go for tomatoes and wonder if it was worth going to work abroad? Ramazan is different, you will come. Nothing annoys you. No one starts talk about politics or something else. You can talk religiously. Everyone interprets something. Say what you have thought. And you buy new clothes again. Even though you have a suitcase for yourself and the children. Still, you buy for pleasure here and withdraw small money from the bank to spend. Like this, the children wait for Bajram. Money to give. We all grew up like this, counted money a hundred times so no billion is missing. You keep reading… you read why not to read, you yourself know it is so. If it is not so say you are wrong. But I know what you will say now. “That's just how it is, you don't make mistakes.” You don’t make mistakes, how could you. Is there anyone in the village not linked with working abroad? Not the home people but children went up. Everyone has some grandchild up there growing. And recently they have come and houses are cheerful. And arife came too, the houses smell of cooking. Of stew. Yes yes stew, onion with meat, from time it stayed so and they keep it so. Iftar, you light a cigarette and listen to the elders talking. Ramazan passed, Allah accept it. Hope to meet it next year, Inshallah. Hard for those who didn’t keep it for nothing. Mother also tells: go to night prayer and find out what time dawn is tomorrow… That’s brother, with this text we’ll continue on Bajram day. Do you agree this is how working abroad is? Say from the comments if it is like that you know best.