Behrouz Boochani Just Wants to Be Free
"It was a brilliant January
day in Christchurch, New Zealand. Screeching gulls wheeled in off the
Pacific; swollen roses bobbed in the breeze. In the hydrangea-fringed
garden of a spare, tidy house, Boochani sat smoking. He couldn’t smoke
inside because the house wasn’t exactly his; it was on loan from the
University of Canterbury. Boochani’s neighborhood looked as if Beatrix
Potter had painted it in watercolors: prim, ivy-laced cottages and tidy
beds of hollyhocks and lavender. It was nice, Boochani conceded. Too
nice, sometimes. “It’s too much, you know?” he said. “It’s too much
peace and too much beauty. It’s hard to deal with this. It’s like you go
from a very cold place to a very hot place.”"
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