Death of an Immigrant
by Vlad Viski
Nothing predicted that day. M just got paid and she was heading to the closest Western Union to send money home. She had been working for seven years now in Italy and her children were back home, in Romania. Her story wasn’t unusual, it was quite the norm, millions of parents working abroad and millions of children left behind, forced to raise themselves and learn self-discipline and financial responsibility. After a week of work, M had one hundred and fifty euros. On her way to the bank she decided to stop by the clothing bin, as she always did. She would always find good clothing that Italians would throw away and that could fit her kids. Quite often Eastern jewelry is repackaged Western trash.
She approached the bin, a blue plastic cylinder with a small hole on top. M knew the different bins in the neighborhood, so she decided to go to the one that was luckier, it was her birthday, after all. ‘Thank God they didn’t emptied it yet!’ she told herself. Friday was trash pick-up day and she had to rush so she could still be there before the garbage trucks.
M climbed on top of the bin and started scooping for the good stuff. She reached with her arm inside the receptacle and took out a pair of old, dark red jeans. She examined the pants, saw a few holes and threw them on the ground. The next item was a dirty military jacket, too big for anyone she knew… another pair of pants, an ugly sweater, some high heels, nothing valuable. ‘Damn it!’ She reached deeper inside and her arm was moving around the bin like a shark hunting for its victim. Still nothing. Trying to take out all of these clothes she developed a skin rash, so she decided to go deeper.
Slowly, she stuck her head through the small orifice. She was a small, short woman, so she would fit. Now she could see inside the whole jewelry box. Still nothing interesting… She was already getting anxious, throwing everything around, scooping and twirling everything inside like a baker kneading a precious dough. All sorts of colors were flying around, different smells, lots of dust, the spectacle was a hypnotic scene. She decided to take a last leap of faith and slowly glode her body inside the bin. She was now borrowed deep inside. Desperately, she continued her search, reaching inside the mountain of delicacies taking out different accessories, examining different possible outfits, making plans. It was like watching a kid in a toy store or a hungry woman in an all-you can eat buffet.
Despite all of the hard work, M wasn’t too lucky today. She set aside the few items she had chosen and decided it was over; her efforts were in vain. She tried to open the dumpster’s lid. She pushed, she pulled, nothing. ‘What the hell?’ Her exit was stuck. The bin had an automatic door, you could push it from the outside, but you couldn’t open it from the inside. ‘No! No! No! What am I going to do now?’ M started screaming, pounding the walls of the bin. From the outside, no one could hear anything, the bin was completely sealed. M started crying hysterically. ‘Ajutor! Ajutooooor!’ No one could hear her scream, no one was around, she was all alone. No one would even look for her, maybe her boss.
Half an hour later, the oxygen was running low. Maybe the trash pick-up truck would come soon, to save her? Maybe someone would throw some of their clothes inside plastic coffin and hear her? M heard voices, she was too weak to scream anymore, her vision was foggy, her voice too low, her brain was slowly shutting down. ‘Help! Aiutame! Ajutor!’ Still nothing. She was now laying on a pile of clothes, she was breathing hard and thinking of her kids. Bogdan, her younger boy came to her and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Mami, mami, te iubesc!’ The heartbeats were louder and louder, the lungs were hurting, the head was spinning, her sight was blurrier and blurrier. She looked at the money she had to send home and started crying. Her cry wasn’t loud anymore, it was more like a groaning. No more energy to fight, no more will to shout. A small trace of blood coming out of her nose reached her already foamy lips. Her whole mouth was already full of white foam, she couldn’t control her tongue anymore. Her eyes were rolling, her body was already throbbing. Only if she could get one last breath of fresh air, one last sip of cold water…
Two days later, the trash truck came to pick up the bin. The workers took the whole bin, dumped it inside the truck and took her body to the largest recycling center in the city. Mixed with clothes, plastic bottles, shoes and paper, no one ever even noticed her there. Her body was mixed with other items, chopped into pieces and delivered to Italians. She wasn’t even worthy of a proper funeral.
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