The Red Cross became one of our most important contact sources. Not only did we received food and clothing, the Red Cross also found us a new place to live; A roof over our head. It was in a small village of about 900 people living there. We received 2 rooms over the fire station. There was no kitchen or indoor bathroom. The fire station was located on the south side of the village beside a freshwater spring, pretty isolated from the village itself.
I remember our first night there, Some of the local young-men came up to our door, it was late at night. Asking my mom to open the door, well maybe not just asking more like demanding. They became very loud and obnoxious, so loud that my sister and I woke up and saw how frightened our mother was. My mom asked us to help her to push the table and chairs against the door. After quite a while they gave up and left. Good thing, because there wasn’t very much else in that room. A cabinet with a small amount of dishes and a wood burning stove. The bedroom consisted of two single beds and straw covered with a sheet and a blanket. Not sure if we had pillows. Not very comfy for all 6 of us to share. Oh yes, there was an outside toilet, well it was better than nothing. Those two rooms became our home for a little while.
The war ended and other refugees were brought in to the village. We were the first ones. It was very difficult to get through the daily routine, but getting used to the locals was another matter. It seemed like we were in another country. Their accent took a long time for us to get used too.
Life wasn’t easy but we were blessed to have what little we had.