- 1-

Noise of Silence by Asma Benmansour

Translated from Arabic to English by:

         - Hassiba Benmansour

        - Asma Benmansour

      ----------------♤♤♤♤----------------

         " You are a monster", Roared the voice inside my head. I believed it while struggling to mute those stings squeezing my heart. That voice never stops talking to me. It never stops scaring me. It is as witty as an artist playing the role of a tough executioner.

I listen to the voice either forced or willingly. I do not remember when did it get to my head, or when did it settle there for years until we started sharing the same breaths? It became the companion of my loneliness whenever the night arrives though it utters nothing but intimidations that break my heart into pieces.

Despite all it used to do, however; the night of my departure it did not roar for too long. It whispered twice or maybe thrice and then it vanished.

The night, when my parents decided to leave to Seoul, I saw the Han Kang River swallowing me; it was besieging me with its cold waves whispering monotonously: "Finally you came to me, Leila."

    In my funeral in that dream, there were merely two faces. They seemed to be far though they were close. The first was the face of my father MR Joung Hoon with his Asian features. He is a pug-nosed man with small eyes and a black straight heavy hair, mixed with some gray. He has a light mustache. The second was the face of my Arab mother. She was sobbing with neither a voice nor features on her face.

    I was still fighting that voice inside of my head and those cold storms dwelling the Han's water with heavy breaths. Cold was flowing in a rush through my mouth filling me in with a deadly frost. I was trying, in vain, to push it away. I felt it extending inside of me. I started struggling to catch my breaths, then I died slowly without any words or hopes.

     Then, I woke up panicked and totally drowned in my sweat wondering about the unknown   future getting knitted for me there in that civilized town; Seoul.

I remained frightened in bed for about quarter an hour staring at the moon light streaming through my room's window. I felt that fear getting deep in me, the fear of death. Sinking in the Han Kang river.

With me leaving to Seoul, I would gather all my childhood memories and put them in a box. The box that I have no idea yet where to cast away exactly. Am I going to keep it deep in my secrets or in my vast chest opened up to the sky of the mountainous village where I was born?

        I would bid my uncle Sang Jonk , his wife that I never loved and their four sons ( Mee Jee, Meen Jon , Je Hoon and Hyoun Woo) farwell, and so I would do with my grandparents.

Probably, I would have the chance to get rid of Jee Hoon and Mee Jee's harassment. The former used to beat me in my childhood , but now he enjoyed calling me the 'owl eyes' making fun of my wide eyes . I did not really know why did he choose the eyes of an owl in particular?

Despite the fact that my eyes had always attracted the attention of anyone facing me  wherever I went.

Even more, they drove them to stare at my face at least for some moments before say6 :' Oh! You are stunning, girl!!!'. To ask me afterwards about the secret behind my facial features that differ from the Korean ones in everything but their   bright soft skin. I reply that I was born to a Korean father and an Arab mother .It always makes them keep up praising the so called my beauty till I start feeling shy and disturbed. At those moments, the voice inside my head interferes to treat my shyness that shows up due to people flatters, screaming roughly: 'Liars…they are lying to you.' I believe it and I calm down.

       The latter, Jee Hoon, used to beat me too. He used to relish tearing my notebooks and breaking my pens as well, happily.

     Leaving the village means that I was finally going to live with my biological parents, the ones I knew few about except the truth that they were exotic and dominating creatures. They spent all the time they had with me on weekends dictating their orders on me. In spite of the fact that my father was a simple man, he was so energetic, practical and unbearably disciplined. He was truly passionate about discipline…wait a second; well, let's say he was as disciplined as a soldier. Everything was well planned in advance including meals times. When to wake up and so on. According to him, I had to wake up at dawn to pray El-Fadjer and I was not supposed to go back to sleep. Then, I had my breakfast at seven in the morning. He could not help but ordering me. He even obliged my grandmother to keep on the same discipline when he was away.

Furthermore, he was not in favor of my tendency to art in anyway. He did not say a thing about that , however, it was quite enough to get one of his sharp dry gases to get his rejectionist attitude whenever he saw me in the backyard of my grandparents' house practicing my hobby, that of porcelain carving. Or when he glanced me trying to draw some of the old houses in the village, bridges and fountains. However, seeing me reading a book or intending to learn a new language brings joy to his heart and draws a smile on his face. To be honest, I had learnt French just to satisfy him.

      He is an engineer specialized in electronics same as my mother. Both of them work in a great company producing mobile phones in Seoul. They decided that it is high time we all moved there after they had spent years saving money to purchase a flat close to their work place. "living in the capital is too expensive", that was what my mother kept saying repeatedly.

      Hearing them argue about electronics makes me wonder from where did I get my love to art? I am fond of drawing and proclaim carving. Maybe I inherited it from my Arab grandmother (Amina) who loves making pots out of clay.

      My relation with my parents was as my relation with the rest of the inhabitants of the planet. For me we were pure strangers. Their long absence from home because of their work and leaving me in charge of dishonest hands to take care of me resulted in constructing steel borders between me and them. I did not not even know if I loved them or not. All I knew was that inside of me there were two beings. One was timid and the other was tongue tied. Whatever I did to make the first talk, the second stroke all my intentions to disclosure.

    I tried hard to purify my soul from the clutches of silence but I never succeed in doing so.

I still store all that silence in me …storing it insistently and here are the legendary curses of the Han River eating me from the inside to turn me into a primitive colony with high enclosures ruled by speechless castles.

      Albert Camo once said:" whenever someone tries to get closer to me, I do anything to make him back off." As if he was thinking inside of my head when he uttered those words.

Struggling, Living my loneliness and the voice still in my head torturing me, driving me to the abyss of humiliation , killing and destroying every spot of faith I had in me, leading me to widen the distance between me and the rest of the humanity.

       With me getting older, loneliness melted within me. It became my companion and the voice in my head never gets enough of humiliating me, telling me every time I look at the mirror: 'You are such an ugly creature.' When the paths of life drive me to get associated with the human beings, the voice snarls: 'Someone like you have no place among them.' Whenever one of them insults me it bursts in my head:  'You do not have the right to grumble… you are none.' I get hurt... I feel the pain in my heart and day after day I get away from the world and no one is able to get closer to me.

     I wonder:' am I really a monster?' my brain cannot help me find the answers that may delight me, so I pipe down.

        On the first of June we moved to our new house. It was an apartment on the third floor in a towering building of a civilized nature. It had a ground parking, an elevator and spiral stairs. The shape of its handrail enchanted me. I stood there for a while looking at it and I thought of taking some photos for it from different angles so as to draw it later. At that moment my mother, poked me with her finger pointing at the bags that we have to carry to the flat first.

       At the front door of our flat, I remember that I got frozen having a look at the foyer. I had a strange feeling squeezing my heart. I knew that I was going to live with my parents but I had the feeling of an exiled person…a person who was renounced outdoors. My mother led me to my room. I had to change my clothes. I started with taking my veil off first to let my black short hair flow. It touched my neck gently. I lifted it up with a pink tie in a form of a dome. 

        After that, I started to work.

I had put the holly Quran on the top of my small closet which contained a shelf in its upper part. There I arranged my books. Two of them were about the art of Korean porcelain carving and Korean antiques. In addition to a book of learning the French language. I had not opened it yet, though my father had given it to me almost a year ago. Some other books were about the ancient South Korean history as well as the way South and North Korea become divided…other books about China, a book concerning Arabic language grammar. My uncle sent it to me five years ago. I have some other books about the Algerian revolution, the ancient Arabic and Islamic civilizations. Others about philosophy and religion. All of them were purchased by my father.

After that, I organized my clothes in the closet. I hung my jackets up first then I folded my shirts, my veils and my long skirts which have different forms and prints.

    As soon as I had finished fixing my bed shits which is set next to the window, I rushed to help my mother who was busy hanging a drawing of one of the most famous martyrs in the Algerian revolution in her room. She cherishes him too much. She transferred her obsession about him to me as she keeps narrating to me his heroic attitudes that make my body tremble each time she visited me on weekends.

      We spent the whole day carrying and emptying the bags and boxes to organizing the house. Whereas my dad went out to bring us lunch. I stayed with my mom. She collapsed on the sofa in the salon. She was hiding her eyes with her arm breathing heavily due to exhaustion. I approached her slowly and I put my hand on her shoulder. I leaned towards her ear saying in fear: 'Mama, in this flat I can see only three bed rooms, a salon, a kitchen and a bathroom.'

       She removed her hand to give me a look of someone saying: 'and so what?' I carried on clarifying: 'Where am I going to have my workshop?' She stared at me for a while then covered her eyes again with her arm replying in a voice full of exhaustion mixed with that high soprano note ordering:" You are living in Seoul now Leila, so, forget about staining your fingers in the clay."

      I looked at her silently. Her voice tied me up.  With it's bossy tune, it was killing in me every single drop of hope I had. I went back to my room broken and my heart was writhing in agony. I realized that his city was going to deprive me from all my beautiful belongings. This city sinking in the spirit of serenity, full of noise and all the features of civilization and the western architecture spread the feeling of panic inside me. My tale with this city started with the Han Kang swallowing me.

      After lunch, I remained in my narrow room which I never liked. I fell down on my bed gazing at the low ceiling whispering and promising myself that everything was going to be fine. I tried to castaway the feeling of alienation and panic, and then I fell asleep. I saw myself walking on the bank of the Han River, looking at that blue horizon God installed above the heads of all the dwellers on Earth.

However, in a matter of a glance, the sky loaded with dark clouds and a crowd of journalists was chasing me. I started running terrified and I stumbled to fall. The Han's cold water flooded me. My breaths started to get weak , I was truly fighting death. Life lights began to extinguish in my eyes.

     I opened my eyes when the voice of my mother waked me up. She found me drowned in my sweat. I was like someone who had just got out of that river. My mother questioned:' what's wrong? are you sick?'

     Then, I heard my father's voice heading towards us: 'Hasn't she woken up yet? What is wrong with this lazy girl? Let her wake up to pray El_Asr so as to go out for a walk to show her Seoul and the Han River.

     My face got pale and fear found its way to my heart to jump out of my eyes. I clung in my mother's dress while answering him:' No way. I am not going there?'

My father headed towards me with that sharp look on his face. When he saw my trembling hands clang in my mothers' dress and that my body and my clothes were wet because of the sweat, he asked in confusion:' is she sick?'

- 'I guess so,' My mother replied putting her hand on my forehead and then she added:' She has no fever.' 

Then she asked me: 'Are you willing to postpone the tour to the next day? You know that your father and I still have only one day before going back to work and you will stay home alone. The holidays have just started.'

I answered staring at the floor: ' It's okay.'

       My mother went to bring a medicine that I did not realy need. All I wanted was to run away from this city.  My father sat next to me on the bed and started to ask  endless questions which seemed to be quite absurd to me. But , as  he left, I wanted him to stay a bit longer to ask more silly  questions. I was about to tell him that I am  going to sink and die here, but he left my room leaving me lonely.

      The next day arrived hastily. My

parents went back to work leaving me imprisoned inside the walls of despair. Sometimes,  hearing the neighbors fighting gave me hopes to feel that I was still a human being that lives among a human society. The first few days were a combination of conflicts between the voice in my head and the struggle to read that book of learning French. Other times, I tried to doodle some sketches,  to go out after a while to the balcony to watch cars crossing the roads made of asphalt. Then, I get back in to feel boredom stifles my soul.

     I spent a month on the same state. However, I decide suddenly that I had to go out from the oubliette of my fear, determined to go to the place that scares me the most in this city,  the Han River.

   I wore some loose summer cloths, jeans and a pink pair of shoes with the word fashion printed on it, a blue long shirt and a black veil on my head. I did not carry a bag, all I needed was my phone.

      I did not use the elevator,  I preferred the stairs to take some pictures of  it's handrail. On the stairs, I met a girl of my age but way taller than me. She had a circular round face and a small wide nose. She was a girl with tiny eyes and puffy eyelids. She had a short gray dyed hair. She was wearing a short summery tight dress with flower prints showing the biggest part of her skinny legs.

      She surprised me saying hi as soon as she saw me. It took me some moments to reply. In fact, I was not willing to reply. The voice shouted in my head:' ignore her." But I ignored it and replied.

      She gave me a closer look  scanning  me from head to toe. She did not skip a thing including my shoes. She said that she liked them.

She introduced herself  telling me that her name was Min Soo. She told me about her family and the high school she wanted to attend.

      I smiled at her.  She noticed that I was only saying  few words. She left hoping that we would become friends.

      I was going down the stairs trying to ignore those shadows in my head,  but as soon as I had reached the outer door of the building,  I felt a wave of cold attacking my legs to freeze them. All my body shuddered and my teeth started to chatter. My hands were trembling because of both fear and cold. Water flooded me once again. The Han River was surrounding me from every side. I prayed for a heavenly miracle to get me out of that voracious hell but I was drowning… drowning.

    The waves of water were flowing into my head fiercely, destroying all Gangoon villages inside of me damaging the fields of my smiles.

The air coming out of my mouth created some consecutive bubbles. The voice in my head launched to warble:" you are forsaken…where are your parents? You do not have parents…they brought you here to let you sink in the Han."

      My whines went even louder to transform into screams. I fell down holding myself and screaming hard. People  started  to surround me. Two men living in the same building and that girl, Min Soo, bent over wondering what was wrong with me?

I was trying hard to look at them.  

Min Soo had put her hand on my shoulder  asking :"Are you fine? Why are you this wet?"

    I did not answer.

     She caught my hand  leading me to the elevator,  driving me back to loneliness in that house which was made of silence and gloominess.

      She helped me lie down on the sofa,  then  went to the kitchen to bring some water.

  " All you need is a cup of water."

    She came back with a cup of water in her hand and helped me drink it. I was really shaking because of cold. She added:" You must have a rest and breathe slowly."

     I lied down there on the sofa hiding my eyes with my arm. Few minutes pad passed  before Min Soo  excused to leave to do something of so much importance, promising to come back  again, but she did not come back that day.

   A  few weeks after the incident, and still my parents did not know a thing. Min Soo did not come back ، and to be honest, I did not care about that at all.

However, with a childish, and

a warm feeling,  I was truly delighted when the bell of our house rang one day.  I opened the door to find Min Soo in a sleeveless white shirt and shorts standing in front of me carrying two bars of ice cream.  She was licking one and handing the other to me. I took it telling her that I have a chronic tonsils inflammation.  For that reason, I never ate ice creams. At that moment I could notice the look of surprise on her face, but I did not care.  I invited her to get in while taking a glimpse on her shinny legs from behind.  I led her to my small room. I went to the kitchen to put that ice cream in the freezer, then, I came back . We sat down on the edge of the bed.  She asked me about my health and I told her that I was doing well.

     She started talking and  I was the usual silent listener. She was similar to a tornado,  she does not stop talking the moment she starts. She spewed forth in a series of questions, and  I was giving her brief answers. Once my silence drove her to boredom, she said:" how about having fun?"

-How?

      She pointed at me with her finger:" Tomorrow you'll know."

    Then she headed towards the door intending to leave. I followed her. When she reached the door, she turned to face me saying:" We are going out at seven in the morning tomorrow."

     My eyes widened  as the idea of going out  knocked my head.  She added:"Wear the best of what you have… and put some make up on that angelic face…well…hmmm,  wait a second,  don't put anything. Agreed? Around 7 am."

      I replied claiming that my parents would not accept the idea of me going out, though what was scaring me in fact was going out.

    "I don't know, I think my parents won't approve it."

      She looked at me totally surprised. Then, she said stroking my cheek with her fingers:" Alright,  I wish they would agree, you are a good girl."

        Then she left.