From my point of view today I did all the stupid stealing subconsciously to get out of the dark place I felt I was living. Once I got caught red-handed they didn’t send me back to Iran or out of their home, I only lost even the little bit of liberty that I had before. I was only allowed to go to school and come back home. No contact outside the school with any friends, nor in person neither per telephone.
My uncle told me that the entire family was so ashamed of my behavior and that I had stained the family’s pride and that nobody wanted to have anything to do with me anymore. As I had no way to communicate with anybody I believed him, which had severe consequences for a long period. I became an expert in letting go. My uncle Hassan during that time was hardly at home and just instructed his wife Alenka how to handle me from where ever he was.
Every time he came home I was under heavy stress and in an alert position. The more time passed by, the less we got to see him. He was busy starting a restaurant business in North Germany and I was happy about that. I was now 17 years old, tall, and determined to take my life back and not wait till I turn 18 to go away. after school, I secretly visited the youth Welfare Office and tried to convince them that I needed new guardians before something dramatic happens. They looked at me and told me to get the hell out of there as you can’t just swap Foster parents. I went there every day and got so much on their nerves until they realized that this was not me having a laugh, it was serious.
The responsible official finally allowed me to sit down and explain the situation in detail. I tried to tell him that I was turning 18 soon anyway and he could help to avoid a major disaster by allowing me to leave and I even had someone willing to be my foster mother for the rest of the time, Tamrasi, the mother of my friend Pramud. He shook his head when he found out that she lived in a commune but agreed to a visit to see for himself if it was appropriate for me to stay there.
I have no idea how I convinced everybody in the commune to play along with this delicate visit, I didn’t even live there and brought in an official to investigate the suitability of their facilities to harbor me. He came and saw with his own eyes that everything was fine and told me he will support my request but only if my foster parents also agreed. “But that is the whole point that they wouldn’t”, I said. He said this is how the law is and that I only have that chance. I was caught in-between a nightmare and a dream.
A few days after that sobering conversation I had another argument with Alenka, who for the first time ever hit me in the face with a rolled-up magazine. Before I could even realize I slapped her and told her this is not going to become the norm.
She called my uncle who completely freaked out and he called my mother to tell her if anything happens it is my fault. My mom begged him to let me go and that she didn’t want me to do anything worse. Suddenly I had the consent that I needed, now I just had to convince the communards about letting me live with them. After a very exhausting commune meeting and thanks to the united power of the women who all had a soft spot in their hearts for the troubled Iranian boy, I was accepted to live in the commune. The first person ever not being officially a follower of Osho to move to the commune.
All my efforts finally paid off. The next day after school I went home and packed the most important things and left. As I was walking away I saw Alenka on the other side of the road and just waved Goodbye with a big ass smile on my face. I am pretty sure she was extremely happy about my departure but didn’t show any signs of happiness as she walked away