The seed and thought.

This was the time when American troops left Afghanistan and a Taliban takeover was on the horizon. Watching the news, images of people clinging on to a military aeroplane as it takes off, losing their grip mid-air.

Where would these people go and how would they get there? Where did anyone in dire straits go? I painted a cardboard box floating in water with random items scattered near it, representing loss along the way. It wasn’t enough. The stories run deeper than a box of things.

If water could talk, it would talk about people shackled to hope. Hope for a fabulous holiday, hope for safety, hope for work opportunities, hope for better tasting food, hope to go back home, home to see family again, hope to make money, hope to stay alive or for hope to arrive. At this point, my mind was doing backflips. I landed on an old memory….

During the construction of a sandcastle, my dear childhood friend stopped mid bucket brick and asked, “is it true that your family came here on a banana boat?” The question left me stunned. “What is a banana boat?” My wise friend explained that a “banana boat” was a banana that people stood on to not get wet and if for any reason they got hungry, they could eat it too. I was intrigued and of course, we immediately tried to set sail on our own banana boats. We didn’t get far but we did get hungry, so our banana boats served their purpose.

Unfortunately, my friend’s question referred to a derogatory phrase, not nature’s survival kit for immigrants at sea. We both missed the prejudice echoing in her home, but it gave us a reason to talk about it and learn from it. Banana Boat was painted to initiate conversation.

If water could talk, what would it say about you?

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