My desperate journey with a human smuggler
By Barat Ali Batoor
When I was a child there was a toy where you could put square, round, triangular and star shapes through appropriate holes. A person is almost infinitely(无限地；极其) more complex than one of these simple shapes!
# Background about our speaker
Barat Ali Batoor, an award-winning photojournalist（新闻摄影记者）, is a member of the Hazara（哈扎拉） people. He is based in Australia.
# Why you should listen Paul
Barat Ali Batoor is a member of the Hazara ethnic group, once from Afghanistan, then driven into Pakistan. He started work as a photographer in 2002, documenting his people‘s（哈扎拉族） ancestral home of Afghanistan. His photos have appeared in the Washington Post, Newweek, the Wall Street Journal, Stern and many other publications. He held his first solo exhibition（个展） in 2007, and has been exhibited around the world.
# 视频地址
#Subtitles and Transcript
I am a Hazara, and the homeland of my people is Afghanistan. Like hundreds of thousands of other Hazara kids, I was born in exile（流放/流亡期间）. The ongoing persecution（不间断/持续的迫害） and operation against （针对…的行动,比如military operation：军事行动）the Hazaras forced my parents to leave Afghanistan. # 生活不易啊, 对比起来,天朝还算太平！
persecution has had a long history going back to the late 1800s, and the rule of King Abdur Rahman.He killed 63 percent of the Hazara population. He built minarets（尖塔） with their heads（人头）. Many Hazaras were sold into slavery（卖为奴隶）, and many others fled the country for neighboring Iran and Pakistan. My parents also fled to Pakistan, and settled in Quetta（奎塔（巴基斯坦西部城市））, where I was born.
After the September 11 attack on the Twin Towers（双子塔/姊妹楼）, I got a chance to go to Afghanistan for the first time, with foreign journalists. I was only 18, and I got a job working as an interpreter. After four years, I felt it was safe enough to move to Afghanistan permanently, and I was working there as a documentary photographer(纪实摄影师),and I worked on many stories.#讲到哈扎拉人民被迫害的历史,以及自己的工作
One of the most important stories that I did was the dancing boys of Afghanistan. It is a tragic story about an appalling（可怕的；令人震惊的） tradition. It involves young kids dancing for warlords and powerful men in the society. These boys are often abducted（诱拐） or bought from their poor parents, and they are put to work（应用；投入使用） as sex slaves. This is Shukur. He was kidnapped（诱拐，绑架） from Kabul by a warlord. He was taken to another province, where he was forced to work as a sex slave for the warlord and his friends.
When this story was published in the Washington Post, I started receiving death threats, and I was forced to leave Afghanistan, as my parents were. Along with my family, I returned back to Quetta. The situation in Quetta had changed dramatically since I left in 2005. Once a peaceful haven for the Hazaras, it had now turned into the most dangerous city in Pakistan. Hazaras are confined（限制；禁闭） into two small areas, and they are marginalized（使边缘化/排斥） socially, educationally, and punished. This is Nadir. I had known him since my childhood. He was injured when his van（中小型货车） was ambushed（埋伏，伏击） by terrorists in Quetta. He later died of his injuries. Around 1,600 Hazara members had been killed in various attacks, and around 3,000 of them were injured, and many of them permanently disabled（终身残废）. The attacks on the Hazara community would only get worse, so it was not surprising that many wanted to flee.
# 举了两个哈扎拉小孩悲惨遭遇的例子：一个被拐卖成性奴,一个被恐怖分子伏击致死！
After Afghanistan, Iran, Pakistan, Australia is home to the fourth largest population of Hazaras in the world.When it came time to leave Pakistan, Australia seemed the obvious choice. Financially, only one of us could leave, and it was decided that I would go, in the hope that（怀着…的希望；希望能…）if I arrived at my destination safely, I could work to get the rest of my family to join me later. #开始讲述自己逃亡的故事
We all knew about the risks, and how terrifying the journey is, and I met many people who lost loved ones at sea(在海上). It was a desperate decision(绝望的决定) to take, to leave everything behind, and no one makes this decision easily.If I had been able to simply fly to Australia, it would have taken me less than 24 hours. But getting a visa was impossible. My journey was much longer, much more complicated, and certainly more dangerous,traveling to Thailand by air(乘飞机), and then by road(由公路) and boat to Malaysia and into Indonesia, paying people and smugglers all the way and spending a lot of time hiding and a lot of time in fear of being caught. #由于无法获得签证,作者不得不几经周转,同时又害怕被抓,每天的担惊受怕..一个字：难
In Indonesia, I joined a group of seven asylum（收容所，救济院） seekers（寻求庇护者/避难者）. We all shared a bedroom in a town outside of Jakarta called Bogor. After spending a week in Bogor, three of my roommates left for the perilous（危险的，冒险的，险恶的） journey,and we got the news two days later that a distressed boat（distressed seaman—遇难海员 ; 遇难船员） sank in the sea en route（在途中） to Christmas Island. We found out that our three roommates -- Nawroz, Jaffar and Shabbir -- were also among those. Only Jaffar was rescued. Shabbir and Nawroz were never seen again. It made me think, am I doing the right thing? I concluded I really had no other choice but to go on.
A few weeks later, we got the call from the people smuggler to alert us that the boat is ready for us to commence（开始；着手） our sea journey. Taken in the night towards the main vessel on a motorboat, we boarded an old fishing boat that was already overloaded（超载的；超负荷的；超重的）. There were 93 of us, and we were all below deck（甲板下部）. No one was allowed up on the top. We all paid 6,000 dollars each for this part of the trip. The first night and day went smoothly, but by the second night, the weather turned.
Waves tossed the boat around（翻来覆去）, and the timbers(材) groaned(吱嘎声). People below deck were crying, praying, recalling their loved ones. They were screaming. It was a terrible moment. It was like a scene from doomsday(世界末日), or maybe like one of those scenes from those Hollywood movies that shows that everything is breaking apart and the world is just ending. It was happening to us for real(真实的). We didn‘t have any hope. Our boat was floating like a matchbox（火柴盒） on the water without any control. The waves were much higher than our boat, and the water poured in faster than the motor pumps（电动泵） could take it out. We all lost hope. We thought, this is the end. We were watching our deaths, and I was documenting it.
The captain told us that we are not going to make it, we have to turn back the boat. We went on the deck and turned our torches on and off（断断续续地，不时地） to attract the attention of any passing boat. We kept trying to attract their attention by waving our life jackets and whistling（鸣汽笛，吹口哨）.
Eventually, we made it to a small island. Our boat crashing onto the rocks, I slipped into（溜进,，滑入） the water and destroyed my camera, whatever I had documented. But luckily, the memory card survived.
It was a thick forest. We all split up into many groups as we argued over what to do next. We were all scared and confused. Then, after spending the night on the beach, we found a jetty（码头，防波堤） and coconuts（椰子）. We hailed（向...欢呼） a boat from a nearby resort, and then were quickly handed over to Indonesian water police（水上警察）.
At Serang Detention Center, an immigration officer（移民局官员；入境关员） came and furtively（偷偷地；暗中地） strip-searched（对(嫌疑犯)进行光身搜查） us. He took our mobile, my $300 cash, our shoes that we should not be able to escape, but we kept watching the guards, checking their movements, and around 4 a.m. when they sat around a fire, we removed two glass layers from an outside facing window and slipped through. We climbed a tree next to an outer wall that was topped with the shards of glass. We put the pillow on that and wrapped our forearms with bedsheets and climbed the wall, and we ran away with bare feet（赤着脚）.
I was free, with an uncertain future, no money. The only thing I had was the memory card with the pictures and footage. When my documentary was aired on SBS Dateline, many of my friends came to know about my situation, and they tried to help me. They did not allow me to take any other boat to risk my life. I also decided to stay in Indonesia and process my case through UNHCR, but I was really afraid that I would end up in Indonesia for many years doing nothing and unable to work, like every other asylum seeker.
But it had happened to be a little bit different with me. I was lucky. My contacts（联系人） worked to expedite （加快；促进）my case through UNHCR（联合国难民署）, and I got resettled in Australia in May 2013.
Not every asylum seeker is lucky like me. It is really difficult to live a life with an uncertain fate, in limbo（处于中间的或不定的状）.
The issue of asylum seekers in Australia has been so extremely politicized（政治化） that it has lost its human face.The asylum seekers have been demonized（妖魔化） and then presented to the people. I hope my story and the story of other Hazaras could shed some light（带来一些启发） to show the people how these people are suffering in their countries of origin（原籍国）, and how they suffer, why they risk their lives to seek asylum.
Thank you
# Comments I like
All have the right to freely express and disseminate our thoughts but also has the right to inform and be informed. Thanks Barat Ali, for the faith and the effort. I learnt about the Hazaras. After viewing your talk, I looked for and viewed the documentary that you worked on in Afghanistan. And I learnt about this bizarre tradition in that country.
There‘s much to learn of and at the same time, much to be grateful for. There are so many things we take for granted when we live in a free & politically stable country.
More strength to you and your journalism of courage