Prelude to
a Med-Evac
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Her name is Merita. She was born in 1969. She is 2 years older than me. Sitting with her is her mother Sabiha. She told me that they were from Mitrovica.
I met them in Kukes I, the refugee camp that the Italians set up in between Morina border crossing and Kukes center.
Merita was special. She was treated as the lucky charm in a godforsaken zone. She smiled at everyone regardless. She only showed primal emotions, joy and fear.
She was given a strecher inside the tent hospital that the Italian Red Cross set up. She was paraplegic. Getting to know them both was a nice escape for me from the mayhem outside.
Merita's family first took shelter as refugees in Kukes. Later as the border shelling started to threaten their lives hundreds of refugee families were evacuated from the area, and sent to safe heavens further south. Merita's condition wouldn't allow her to go on the road, so she was signed up for a med-evac to Durres.
At times of distress at the medical compound, Sabiha would tell Merita about her father and her sisters and how they are in Durres now waiting for Merita to arrive.
Yet days would go by and scarcity of flights and piling emergencies would bounce Merita's departure to later days.
And when Sabiha would take her for walks, "it is the stares that get me the most," she would say.
Because of her special condition Merita couldn't eat the rations distributed at the camp. So Sabiha would feed her with soda and the occasional soup if she were lucky to find it.
A wheelchair that the Italian Red Cross staff lent them  was a much charished treasure for both of them.
As it always is word for a space for two on the next airlift came when most unexpected. Merita was put inside an ambulance and taken to the airstrip. First she was scared with the sudden activity but eventually calmed down. Sabiha wasn't allowed on the ambulance, she would meet us at the airstrip.
That was the last day I saw them. I looked for them  at the refugee camps in Durres and later on at the border crossing in Morina when repatriation began. But just as quickly they came into my life, that fast had they left, leaving nothing behind except these pictures.
Still these little escapades would make the hours go faster for them both drawing the departure day closer and closer.