A little fairy tale ...

It was towards the 2^nd week of March in the year 2008, when a little woman approached the big city, where she was hoping to find the Imam to who she wanted to take her gifts and get some advice in return. She had been travelling East for over 2 years, always following the bright star she new was shining over the city of the Imam. Now finally she was standing in front of the impressive city gates. Unfortunately, she found the gates closed and although there was a big heavy knocker, which she operated a few times, it didn’t seem as if anybody was alerted by the noise. She sat down for a while in the dust by the gates, dust through which many men and women in similar situation had trodden before her. As she sat cross-legged against the wall, her cloak opened and revealed a round glass bowl with a fish in it. All through her travels she had been carrying this fish, because it was the reason for her visit to the Imam. The fish was of a yellow-greyish colour and did not look very well. The little woman started whispering to the fish: “Here we are my little Hepsy! This is where they told us we could get help, where they would help us and support us until you are well again. But now we are here, nobody is opening the gates for us.” Little sobs came from her throat and sparkly tears started falling from her eyes. The little fish swam to the surface and his mouth opened and closed. They both remained like this for a while and the sobs got louder. Eventually a little window opened above the woman, and a mans’ head looked out. “Hey little woman. Why are you sobbing?” “I can’t get into the city and I’ve come all this way. If I cant get in, my fish might die before I have seen the Imam and then the whole journey will have been for nothing.” she cried. “Don’t you worry, little woman,” shouted the voice from above. “I shall go and get a key and I will drop the key down for you, so you can open the gates yourself!” She heard the window close and shortly open again. As she raised herself and looked up, she saw a head with a turban peeking out. As promised, a key was dropped down from the window and the woman picked it up. The turban head said: “You can only use this key once, so when you lock the door behind you, make sure you remember the code which is written inside the gate.” That said, the head disappeared. The little woman tucked her glass bowl under her cloak again and went to open the city gate. The key turned smoothly, the gate swung open and she entered the city.

As she took the first steps into the town, there was a hustle and bustle around her, names were called, questions asked and answered, some people looked sad, some serious and some happy. Ever so often she asked somebody, where she could find the Imam and people were quite happy to show her the way. At some stage she got a little hungry and entered this tavern, which had a sign outside ‘HCV support’. The people in the little tavern spoke quite a strange accent and she realised that they must be from somewhere far away, somewhere over the water. But she got talking to them and also explained the problems with her little fish. As she was deep in conversation with some of the people, another woman about her age and rather beautiful, entered the tavern. Funnily enough, this woman had a similar accent to her own and needless to say, they got chatting. The little woman explained why she was here and that she is on her way to see the Imam for some help and advice. The beautiful woman admitted that that was a good idea as the Imam is wise and powerful, but she also offered another way of getting help with the fish’s problems. She told her about a little nomadic group at the edge of the city and said, that the little woman would be very welcome there. The little woman took the address and promised to drop by, thinking that one could never have enough contacts for help. The two women departed company and our little fish lady carried on with her search for the Imam.

When the day started nearing dusk, the little woman reached a very beautiful marble building and new instantly that this was the seat of the Imam. She wasn’t prevented from entering and made straight for the golden throne she could see gleaming in the distance. On it sat a little man, dressed in a white djallabah, with a coarse beard and a turban. The little woman had the feeling, that she had seen the turban head somewhere already. However, she was too overwhelmed seeing the Imam in all his glory, to give this a second thought. She edged forward and finally threw herself to her knees in front of the Imam. She blurted out all the questions she’s been saving for over 2 years and looked at the Imam with much hope for answers. The Imam looked the little woman over and started bellowing: “How dare you ask me all these questions. I would have answered them had you come straight to me. But no, you had to make contact with these dreaded Nomads. Therefore, be gone with you! You will not have my support! You will not have my advice! And you will not benefit from any of the information I hold! In fact, I will just pretend that you don’t even exist. I will say that you were just a troll who I saw in a nightmare!” So the wise Imam spoke, gave the little lady a couple of kicks with his boots, turned around and disappeared in the depth of his harem.

This made the little woman very sad. After all, she had been travelling all this time and had all these questions. When her tears subsided, she remembered the Nomads address. She grabbed her fish, pulled her cloak tighter and went to see them. And this is how the little woman became to be one of the Nomads at the edge of the city and it is heard, that although her and her fish are having a pretty hard time, they are slowly getting better and I think we can safely assume, that they lived happily ever after.

And the morale of the story: Never trust an Imam who relies completely on his own exclusive wisdom, because such belief is madness. And also think, that maybe you can save yourself from the tears that the Imam will cause, by going straight to the Nomads, who for all their odd ways and strange behaviours, always have an open ear and big hearts to accommodate you in your search for support, advice and information.

The End