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Integration Program

The third world war began in Europe. Thousands of the citizens of the European countries immigrated to other unknown destinations. Some of them died on the way due to the harsh situation and many of them sank in the sea because they could not survive swimming for many days before the rescue team arrived. A group of the European refugees who were previously working in the refugee camps got into a new unknown land called Jarre Khushk (Dried Valley). Jarre Khushk was an amazing country with millions of people and a very strange primitive culture and traditions. They were had no clothes on them only some kind of leather skirts were hiding there reproduction systems and breasts. They all had some kind of spears with them as their guns. When they found the refugees, they all took their spears ready in their hands as they wanted to attack them. They said something in a strange language that none of the refugees were able to understand. They all pushed them to sleep and when the refugees slept; they all tied their hands behind and took them to the leader of the land. The leader looked at them and their clothes carefully turning round each one once in a while and talked to other men in their own language and laughed. They talked to each other for a while and then one of them went out with a horse and brought another man who could speak a broken English language. The man said that they are asking you that who are you and why are you here in this country? What do you want? Do you want to fight?

The refugees told their stories and how they were suffering because of war and how they escaped the war and they got there. The commander ordered to put them in separate cells and give them enough food and water and let them integrate to our culture and tradition. Meanwhile all the people of this land can bring their questions and to ask from these new comers about why they are here and after they answer all the questions then we vote about their stay here in this land.

They brought them the first day food and it was fried cockroaches with a kind of sauce which looked like mayonnaise sauce. Nobody could eat that kind of food. They were all punished for disrespect to the culture of that land and they were warned to being sent out of that land if they don’t want to eat or drink or if they don’t want to integrate.

Next time they were given a very nice meal. It was nice pieces of meat baked enough for everybody and they enjoyed it.

The commander was very happy and asked the soldier to bring them out of the cells for a walk in the open air and teach them the some manners of the village. They all gave their hands for them kiss and asked them to learn how they greet. They all kissed their hands and then they went to walk in a garden where they saw the death bodies of many dogs. They asked why those dogs were dead. The man said that the commander has ordered to kill the best dongs of the village for you guys and I hope you all enjoyed it. They all started puking when they heard that. The man looked worried and said why are you doing that? The refugees said that they don’t eat dogs’ mean. The man was so surprised to hear that because he thought that the meat of the dog was the best food they could make for these new guests. The man said that please don’t say these kinds of things if our commander hears all these things, he will get offended and he will think that you very unfriendly person. He still doesn't know what to do with you guys and he may decide to kill you all of he thinks you are not integrating. They were all afraid to hear all these things and even though everything these people were doing was so strange and unacceptable for the people refugee but still they had to follow their culture and tradition. After a while they were well integrated in that society and could eat what they were eating and do what they were doing. They were now part of that society. It was very hard for them and they said that we did the same things to those refugees who came to our countries and if we get a second chance, we would do our best. 

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