YAISHWARYAJ: {Awareness} Ali and his camera - Ziba came on a boat [2 Attachments]

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Pedagogical Project

"The Joy of Reading"

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Dear Readers,

We would like to invite you to take part in a new project called "From Stories to Books".

The Stories for Everyone Team have been, for some time, gathering and selecting books that provide some sort of reflection on the fundamental ethical principles of

our society, such as solidarity, courage, honesty, respect for differences and a sense of justice, matters that have deserved the attention of writers from various

nationalities.

Therefore, the Stories for Everyone Team proposes to send, together with the usual weekly stories,and also free of charge, full texts of selected books.

In case you are interested in receiving each week, by email, a chapter of an extensive reading book, all you have to do is send an email to

books@storiesforeveryone.com or stories4ev@gmail.com by writing the following sentence in the subject field:

"Yes, I am interested in participating in the project From Stories to Books."

Hoping that this new proposal will meet your utmost interest, we look forward to your reply.

The Stories for Everyone Team

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This week's stories with PDF attachments:

- Ali and his camera

- Ziba came on a boat

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Ali and his camera

Ali lives in Istanbul, a big city in Turkey. He lives in an old building near the famous Blue Mosque. After school, Ali comes home and sits at the window. He looks at the boats. They are going out to sea.

´What are you doing?´ Ali´s mother asks.

´I´m taking photos of those boats,´ Ali says.

His mother looks at him and laughs. ´Photos? How can you take photos? You haven´t got a camera!´

´I know that, Mother! I´m taking photos in my head. I can see the photos here!´

Ali shows a place near his eyes. His mother laughs again.

´Stop talking and go to your father´s shop!´ she tells him.

Ali´s father sells vegetables and fruit. Ali works in the shop after school.

´Don´t move. Stand there near the door!´ Ali says suddenly.

´Why?´ his father asks.

´I want to take your photo!´

Ali´s father smiles. ´My photo? First, get a camera. Then you can take my photo!´

´Buy me a camera!´ Ali says.

Ali´s father stops smiling. ´I haven´t got any money for cameras,´ he says slowly.

Every afternoon, Ali walks in the old city of Istanbul. He looks at the houses near the water. Some houses are very old. He watches the men on the bridge. They are catching fish. He watches the boats. He watches, and he sees photos in his head.

´How can I get a camera?´ he thinks. Suddenly, he has the answer. ´I´m going to work in the market!´

There is an old market near Ali´s school. There are small shops in the market. People buy and sell food there.

Ali goes there every afternoon after school. He works with a smile. He carries bags for people. People like him and they give him money. He puts it in his pocket.

´One day I´m going to have a lot of money,´ Ali says to his mother. ´Then I can buy a camera. And then I´m going to take a photo of you in the kitchen.´

´No, not in the kitchen! On the balcony, with your father,´ his mother says.

´No, not on the balcony — in my shop,´ his father says.

One afternoon, Ali is carrying a heavy bag for an old man.

´There´s a man behind us,´ the old man says. ´Do you know him?´

Ali looks at the man behind them. He is big and strong.

´No, I don´t know him. He doesn´t work in the market.´

´Watch my bag!´ the old man says. ´Perhaps he´s a thief.´

Ali thinks of the money in his pocket. ´Let´s walk quickly,´ he tells the old man.

´I can´t walk quickly. You´re young, but I´m not!´

Suddenly, the big man takes the bag from Ali´s hand and starts to run away. Ali runs after him. The man hits Ali. Ali falls down, and his money falls out of his pocket. The man puts down the bag. The n he takes Ali´s moneyand runs away.

Ali gives the bag to the old man.

´Thank you very much,´ the old man says. ´You´re a very good young man.´

Ali is unhappy, but he does not talk about the money. That evening, he does not tell his mother and father about it.

´I can start again,´ he thinks. The day after that, Ali is at the market. People are making a lot of noise. Ali is standing and waiting for work.

Suddenly, an old woman comes to him and says, ´Can you carry my two heavy bags? I live near the statue of Atatürk.´

Ali carries them for her.

´Are they very heavy?´ she asks.

´Not for me. I´m very strong,´ Ali says.

They arrive at the statue of Atatürk.

´I remember Atatürk. He was a very important man for Turkey,´ the old woman says.

´I can take a photo of you and Atatürk,´ Ali says.

´But where´s your camera?´ the old woman asks.

´I haven´t got a camera,´ Ali says.

The old woman looks at him. Then she smiles.

´All right. Take my photo without a camera. But wait. First, I´m going to do my hair,´ she says.

They come to the old woman´s street. Ali carries the bags up to her flat. It is a big flat, with a lot of pictures.

´How much money do you want?´ the old woman asks.

´How much do you want to give me?´ Ali answers.

´Sit here and wait,´ she says.

She goes into a small room and comes back with a camera in her hand.

´This was my son´s first camera. Take it,´ she says.

Ali looks at the camera for a long time. He takes it in his hand.

Then he gives it back to the old woman.

´It´s a beautiful camera. I ... I can´t take it,´ he says.

She takes Ali´s hand and puts the camera in it again.

´My son doesn´t want it. He has a new camera now.´

´You´re very good to me. How can I thank you?´ Ali says.

´Come again one day and take my photo. A real photo. And here´s some money for today.´

´I can´t take your money. But I can carry your bags from the market again,´ Ali says.

´You´re a good boy. Remember my name. It´s Mrs Yildiz,´ she tells him.

´Of course, Mrs Yildiz,´ Ali says.

´Goodbye, Ali. Take good photos with my son´s camera.´

Ali runs home and tells his mother about Mrs Yildiz and the camera.

´Does it work?´ his mother says.

´Yes, it works. I´m going to take your photo now,´ Ali answers.

´But there´s no film in it, son,´ his mother says. She gives him some money. ´Go and buy some film. And I want to buy a new dress. Then you can take my photo.´

´Thank you,´ he says. ´But I want to buy film with my money, not yours!´

Ali works every day in the market after school. Every evening he comes home late.

´This is difficult,´ he thinks. ´People do a lot of work for very little money.´

But one day, Ali has the money for some film. ´I can take real photos now,´ he thinks.

Ali remembers Mrs Yildiz and goes to her flat. She opens the door and sees him. She is very happy.

´I want to take your photo, Mrs Yildiz,´ Ali says. She takes Ali into the kitchen. A tall man is drinking coffee there.

´This is my son, Yusuf. Take a photo of me with him. Come, Yusuf. Sit here with me.´

´Smile, please,´ Ali says, and he takes their photo.

´Yusuf works for a newspaper. He can teach you about photos,´ Mrs Yildiz says.

Ali looks at Yusuf. ´Can you? I want to learn. I want to take good photos,´ he says.

Yusuf looks at Ali and smiles. ´Go out and take some photos. Then, come to the newspaper and show them to me´ he says.

´I´m going to take a lot of photos. They´re all in my head now,´ Ali says.

Ali walks in the streets of Istanbul. Suddenly, the city looks very beautiful. He takes photos of bridges and boats and old mosques. He takes photos of people in the streets and in shops.

Then, one day, he goes to see Yusuf at the newspaper.

Yusuf looks at the photos. ´Hmm, not bad,´ he says.

´Not bad?´ Ali says.

´Yes. Not bad. Your photos are not bad.´

´They aren´t good?´

´Some of the photos are good, but some of them aren´t,´ Yusuf tells Ali.

Ali is not happy about this. Suddenly, he says, ´Give me my photos, please.´ He is angry, but Yusuf does not understand.

Ali goes home. He tells his mother about Yusuf and the photos.

´You weren´t very clever, Ali,´ she says. ´You aren´t a famous photographer.´

Ali is unhappy. ´Sometimes I open my mouth and I don´t think first,´ he says.

´Go to Yusuf. You´re sorry. Tell him that.´

´I can´t go now,´ Ali answers. ´I can´t. I´m angry.´

He walks in the streets. ´Why did I walk away from Yusuf?´ he thinks. ´It wasn´t clever. Why didn´t I think first? Why...?´

…

(To be continued in the PDF attachment)

Raymond Pizante

Ali and his camera

Essex, Penguin Books, 2000

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Ziba came on a boat

For our Afghan friends,
who have given us an insight into a different life,
and who inspire us with their courage and determination.

Ziba came on a boat. A soggy old fishing boat that creaked and moaned as it rose and fell, rose and fell, across an endless sea...

Thoughts of home washed over Ziba like the surge of the sea washing over the deck.

She heard the laughter of children and the gentle sound of sheep grazing on the hillside.

She felt the cool mountain air on her cheeks as she ran with her cousins down the rocky slope to collect water from the mountain stream.

They laughed as they splashed each other with icy water, and carried the heavy clay pots to the warmth of the mud-brick house.

Ziba smelled the rich spices of the evening meal.

She helped her aunties prepare the flatbread cooked in the tandur, and tasted the cool, smooth texture of the goat´s milk yogurt her mother made.

She saw her mother sitting at the wooden loom, weaving colored wool to make a rug.

Up and down went the wool, in and out, like the boat weaving through the murky sea.

As the boat drifted through the night, Ziba´s thoughts drifted, too.

In her mind, she sat with her father, playing with the doll he had given her.

He told her stories and poems of long ago. She felt the strength of his arms and she gazed into his peaceful face.

A cool wind blew across the swirling sea.

Ziba remembered the cold winter nights at home.

Winter had lasted so much longer that year, and the shadow cast by the mountains to the east seemed to creep closer than ever before. The darkness spread, seeping into the quiet corners of the peaceful village.

No longer able to attend school, Ziba hid from the world behind the thick earthen walls of her home.

The sea roared and thrashed at the boat like an angry beast. The waves became fierce, and Ziba´s thoughts grew fearful and sad.

…

(to be continued in the PDF attachment)

Liz Lofthouse

Ziba came on a boat

California, Kane/Miller Book Publishers, 2007

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Sir/Madam,

We are a group of people with some experience in the area of storytelling and we would like to share our project – The Joy of Reading – with everyone who is in touch with children and young people in general but above all with everyone that enjoys reading.

This project consists of sending stories for free on a weekly basis. So this particular e-mail and the ones that will follow it in the next weeks are intended to share some small stories with you. All the stories we send have some values within: respect for nature, tolerance, tenderness, responsibility, solidarity and many more. They all aim at developing the reading skills among young people, as well as allowing some moments of reflection and dialogue about topics connected with human values, which seem to have been somewhat forgotten in these times of materialism and hedonism.

We thank you for your attention and hope you will welcome this project (which, it is important to say, does not have any profitable aims).

If you know anyone interested in receiving the weekly stories by email, let us know by sending their emails to us.

Please let us know your opinion about the project.

Yours faithfully

The Pedagogical Team

sg@storiesforeveryone.com

stories4ev@gmail.com