A Stateless Pecking Order by Nikola Balvin

She was sitting on the toilet sobbing. It had happened again, but this time it was she who was excluded. She raised her head and through her tear-dampened hair looked around the toilet walls. This tiny, uncomfortable room had become her only private space, the only place where she could cry and pray in solitude. Religion and God were newfound inspirations to her. In the communist Czechoslovakia religion was discouraged, if not prohibited, and she only learned about God in Austria from another refugee family. She made up her own prayer, and each night spent at least an hour asking God to help her family find a new country, for her parents to find work, for her and her brother to get good marks at school, for her grandparents to forgive them for escaping and for all the other refugee families. By the time she asked all this, her knees were stiff and sore from the hard toilet floor, but she felt that she was at least doing something to get her family out of this desperate situation.

She was lucky to have a place of privacy, even if it was small and uncomfortable. Each refugee family were given one hotel room to share and being alone was difficult to come by, at least in a physical sense. When they arrived they had no idea that what seemed a luxurious hotel would soon become a prison for people with no country. Her family were the "lucky" refugees – they had all their papers and only spent a while in the central, daunting refugee camp in Traiskirchen. They left the barbed wire, broken windows and walls with intimidating graffiti behind after only three days and could not believe their luck when they arrived at their new refugee residence, Gasthof Quellenhof – a former resort supposedly built for American tourists. It was in the middle of nowhere and most likely the reason why tourist numbers dwindled. Eventually, the owners found it more profitable to offer the premises for housing refugees. Despite its tennis courts and swimming pools, after a few months this charming resort started to feel like a prison, especially to the adults. Sharing one room with all your family members was one thing, but not being able to work, speak the local language and most of all not knowing if and when another country would accept you took the spark out of many hopefuls' eyes, turning their gaze into an empty stare at their hotel room walls.

But hope was not the only thing that slowly dissipated among the residents of Gasthof Quellenhof. Friendship bonds were also very delicate and hers were currently breaking. "Why are they so mean to me?" she thought as she rubbed her puffy, wet eyes. The first month at the hotel was great as she made friends with Zuzana - another eleven year old Czech girl. They sunbaked together, talked about boys, played tennis and cards, and shared their ideas on what life in a new country would be like. Then she started spending time with fourteen year old Emilia from Slovakia who knew more about life, music and even spoke some English. She admired Emilia and felt very cool to be hanging out with someone older. In many ways, it was her own fault that the other girls weren't talking to her now, because she befriended Emilia first, spending less and less time with Zuzana. Zuzana too must have felt hurt and excluded when the other girls socialised without her. Three is a crowd and Emilia had her ways of controlling people and plotting against others in their absence. She knew the other girls would be talking about her now, laughing at her mannerisms and making plans to exclude her at school. She was grateful for her younger brother - he became her best friend very quickly and even invited her to hang out with the boys when the girls shut their doors.

The boys weren't as vindictive as the girls, but they too were affected by the dynamics of this unique, temporary and insecure situation. A situation where the achievements and social standing from your past seemed irrelevant in comparison to what you could offer your neighbours now or more importantly how you could help them achieve their desired futures. Upon arrival, the refugees, encouraged by the initial euphoria of escaping their oppressive regimes, were polite and friendly to one another. Some people almost lost their lives climbing mountains to cross the border to Austria, while others used more calculating, but nevertheless stressful methods, such as crossing the border with the help of friends or bribes. Although intrigued by their national differences, the refugees initially chose to socialise with compatriots, sitting around singing songs that celebrated exile and their newfound freedom. After a few weeks, when stories of their hopes and dreams for a new home were exhausted and the harsh reality begun to sink in, new friendships and a new social hierarchy started emerging. One of the biggest determinants of social standing was the ability to speak German and communicate with the locals. This was important as it allowed the refugees to seek illegal work. Refugees in Austria were not allowed to work and so the engineers, doctors and economists in Gasthof Quellenhof turned to cash-in-hand dishwashing, barn cleaning and pizza making. Those who were able to negotiate with the locals and find work for others were particularly sought out. Opportunities to work formed and broke friendships overnight, like in the case of a Czech woman who made a miniscule amount of money ironing the locals' clothes. She became the envy of her neighbours and before long her 'friend' pushed in and took her job. They had a terrible argument, didn't speak for weeks and spread rumours about each other, until one day the friend's husband found work that required the woman's husband's skills and invited him to take up the job. They had a drink, laughed about their squabble and retrieved their pseudo friendship.

Other determinants of social standing in this refugee reality were one's future prospects and the likelihood of being able to help others during resettlement. Thus, new friendship circles started forming, based not so much on where one came from, but where one was going. Most people wanted to resettle in Canada and this created strong bonds between some families. Her family were the only ones aiming to resettle in Australia and this did little for their popularity ranking, as any friendship with them was likely to be short-term.

The ability to speak English and perceived chances of finding work in the new country also influenced the refugees' social status, but any indication that they may soon leave determined the greatest winners. Those who had had an interview or even a letter from their desired consulate were thought to be closer to achieving their dreams and this made them the targets of much admiration.

Very much like their parents, the children also created a social hierarchy of their own and just as the adults, they judged each other on whether their parents had work and prospects of residence in a new country. Age, good looks and trendy clothing also determined popularity, which is quite ironic as much of the children's clothes came from the same donation pool from their kind Austrian neighbours. Equally ironic was the fact that the donation 'pool' was an empty, indoor swimming pool, formerly used by bikini-clad American tourists to cool off. Here, the Austrian villagers left their unwanted winter coats and sweaters for the refugees, and the parents' ability to greedily pick out the nicest items proved very handy. The woman who had introduced God to her was particularly good at getting to the best clothes first. She sorted them swiftly, throwing over her shoulder anything that remotely resembled something her family members could wear. Whatever didn't fit, she would later pass on to her church recruits. The Bulgarian mother was also very good at getting to the best clothes first. She always left with a heap so big she couldn't see her path and as a result her daughter had many puffy winter jackets. Unfortunately, these jackets were of all sorts and sizes, attracting jokes and ridicule from the other children.

Like their parents, the children initially socialised with others from their home country, but once friendships formed across nationality lines, a new way of communicating was required. This led the children to develop a new language, one which was a mixture of four Eastern European languages – Slovak, Czech, Polish and Bulgarian. Emilia was the oldest and most domineering of the children and this meant that most of the "new" language was based on Slovak. The Czechs and Polaks were second in numbers and words from their languages had equal presence. Only one family were Bulgarian, placing their children at the bottom of the pecking order and resulting in the inclusion of only a few Bulgarian swear words in the new language. As the children went to school and learnt German, words, and later sentences from this language also started to creep into their ever-evolving way of communicating. Needless to say, those who spoke better German and made good progress in their English classes climbed the social ladder quickly.

As she cried, she thought about the way people interacted and changed groups of friends depending on what they could gain. Not everyone was like that and some people helped each other out, recognising that they were all in the same boat and competition did not benefit anyone. Unfortunately, in the powerlessness of the situation, most were motivated to look only after themselves and felt relieved by comparing their situation to those less fortunate. She wondered how long it would be before something happened to her or her family to make her a desirable friend again. She prayed that they would soon get news that some country, any, would take them. Then not only would her family's dreams come true, she would also be more popular with the other children.

Her vision of a better life was interrupted by a sharp knock on the toilet door. She'd been in there for ages and someone else was getting impatient. She arranged her hair to hide traces of tears, took a deep breath and stepped back into her refugee reality.

*Based on a true story – as seen through the eyes of an eleven-year-old.