Running Wild Ch 9-10

We only did two activities this week and I've published one of them so this Show Don't Tell gets it own post all to its self. Like I said on my writing for this week Running Wild is a great book and I'm REALLY glad that my teachers chose this to be our book to read.

Running Wild Ch 5-6

Dear Joko Widodo, President of Indonesia, 

I’m writing to you to express my concern about the declining orangutan population. As the president of Indonesia you are responsible for the species that live in your country. They’re numbers are dwindling right before you eyes and I fear that you are not doing enough. The orangutan is just one of the animals that is dying out in Indonesia. Need I list the others? 

The orangutan is an incredibly smart species. Their name literally means ‘people of the forest’. They are one of our closest relatives. Would you let the human race die out? I’m guessing the answer is no. But letting the orangutans die out is practically the same thing.

Orangutans are dying out for many different reasons. Orangutans have lost an estimate of well over 80% of their habitat in the last 20 years. This is absolutely horrible news. And I am disgusted by it. Another huge habitat loss came from the 1997-1998 fires. As you can see they hardly have any place to make their homes. All the forest cut down to make room for trees that produce palm oil and other products are being put where their homes should be. 

However its not just natural disasters that are killing the orangutans, sadly humans are too. Humans have many reasons for killing animals. For some it is the only food they can get, for others it is greed. People are greedy. They want orangutan pets and orangutan fur. It is cruel, horrible and unnecessary. At the moment there are between 50,000-65,0000 left in the wild. An estimate of around 2,000-3,000 orangutans killed every year coming to around 5-8 orangutans a day. At the rate we’re going there will be no orangutans left in the wild in fifty years time. 

Another huge orangutan killer affects other animals to, including humans. This is caused by both Mother Nature and humans. What is this? Climate change. Climate change is everywhere. The ozone layer is growing weaker and thinner everyday. Our air is polluted, our seas are full of rubbish, our jungles are dying. While people are doing as much as they can to stop this, there are people who don’t try. They just keep killing orangutans and throwing trash wherever they fell like it. 

We know of three orangutan species. But how many do you think have died out unnoticed by us? 

From, Harper, New Zealand

Week 2

   

My reading group has been reading Alone on a Wide Wide Sea this term. This first piece of work is an advert written by Piggy Bacon advertising Coopers Station and trying to get kids to come. Piggy Bacon is a small minded EVIL man and I do NOT share his views. Click on the links for registration form and the the submitted form. Note: you can't actually write in the registration form. Apologies if the link doesn't work. I'll add in the registration form and submitted screen below this writing so if you can't use the link you'll still be able to view it.  

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The second piece of work is a story I made up about Ida's past. Ida is Piggy Bacon's wife. She is a lovely but slightly damaged woman who is a hero to the orphans at Coopers Station. (I'm not Christian, but Coopers Station is a farm in Australia, just after the second world war).

Ida was normal. She was Christian, smart, pretty and friendly. But her life would not be normal. In the years to come she would be branded as an irresponsible, mad woman. But she didn’t know that. So I’ll take you back to where it all began…

‘Ida, slow down!’

‘Come on Jane, hurry up!’ Ida Barrington laughed.

‘We’re not all as fast as you.’ her best friend puffed. Grudgingly Ida stopped running and walked next to Jane. Instantly they both burst into uncontrollable laughter. You see, Ida was not made of sugar and spice as the popular rhyme suggests. But I don’t think she was slugs and snails either. The heat of the outback was overwhelming and the only thing the girls could think about was the special treat waiting for them at Jane’s house. They never went to Ida’s house. That was an unspoken rule. With her father away serving time in prison, her partially mad mother and her chaotic brothers it was just the sort place both of them never wanted to step foot in. Jane was the only person who knew this and she guarded Ida’s secret well. 

They burst into the house, still laughing, but quieter as Jane’s little sister, Mary, was asleep. Her lovely mother came over and gave them both a giant hug. Martha, Jane’s mother knew as well. And she always made sure that Ida got heaps of love when she came over as she knew she received close to zero at her own place.

‘Okay girls, let’s try them now, eh?’ she said enthusiastically.

‘Yes please!’ the girls squealed!

‘Shhh! Or you’ll wake Mary.’ but Martha wasn’t really cross. And the girls knew that. They watched in anticipation as Martha went outside to the cool shady creek and pulled out ICE LOLLIES! They eagerly snatched them off her, then remembered their manners! ‘Oops!’ they all laughed. As Ida sucked on this new delicious treat,, she wished she would never have to go home. But she did. It was the same everyday. When Bill, Jane’s father came home from work she knew it was time to go. So she thanked them and set off home with a spring in her step and a smile on her face.

When she arrived home her happiness disappeared. Mother was yelling at Harry and Bert who responded by smashing the only window that they hadn’t smashed. Once they noticed her they yelled at her, trying to get her on their side. She sighed and ignored them. Sadly trudging up the stairs to her little bedroom she talked to herself. Comforting herself. Pretending that she had a lovely family like Jane.

Three days later, after a visit to Jane’s house it happened. The day her life would change forever. Well, that wouldn’t happen for two more years, but today was the day she met him. Her mother had hit her. Hard. She walked outside, sobbing and nursing her sore body. ‘I wish my life would change.’ she murmured to herself between sobs. In the years to come she would regret these words. But she had said them and there was no going back.

‘Don’t be so dramatic.’ a coarse voice said.

‘Eeeeee!’ Ida squealed.

‘I’m not that bad, am I?’ the voice replied, sounding hurt.

‘Sorry,’ Ida squeaked ‘but WHO THE HECK ARE YOU?’ 

‘Sheesh, calm down.’ the voice now had a face. A boy had stepped out of a bush and was grinning at her. He had bright red hair and eyes full of life. He was…

‘Okay, what's your name, creep?’ Ida asked sarcastically.

‘Martin Bacon. And ya?’ 

‘Ida Barrington.’ she said shyly. She was never shy! Why was she acting all weird?

‘I have a feeling we’re gonna be friends.’ Martin said cockily.

‘Ha ha.’ and Ida walked off, unable to stop the grin appearing on her flushed face.

Martin was right of course. But she didn’t see him again for another two years. When she was thirteen. She walked into her new school, excited. Only a few more years until she was an adult and she and Jane could travel to England! But she wouldn’t. And she and Jane wouldn’t be friends for much longer. The shrill DRING DRING of the bell rang out threw the field and instantly a storm of kids raced towards the classes. I fell over in the whirling storm of children and hurt my wrist, as well as scraping my knees. The blood soaked through the fabric of my dress and made me feel dizzy. 

‘Sheesh, you’ve done a real number on yaself, haven’t ya?’ a familiar voice said.

‘Martin?’ Ida gasped and tried to stand up, but quickly regretted it. Tears covered her cheeks.

‘Don’t try that, ya’ll hurt yaself even more.’ he instructed. He raced off, leaving poor Ida alone. But he came back with a kind looking teacher and Martin and the teacher helped her up to her feet and carefully walked inside. It was obvious her wrist had gotten hurt the most.

After school had finished Jane raced up to Ida ‘You want to come over?’

‘No thanks, I’m going to visit Martin.’ 

‘What are you doing with Martin? Hes weird.’

‘Oi, don’t call him that.’ Ida retorted, suddenly angry with her best friend.

‘I’ll call him whatever I like.’ Jane said stubbornly.

‘Fine.’ Ida said, and she stalked off.

‘Wait!’ Jane called after her. But Ida didn’t look back, even though she should’ve. She really should’ve.

Chapters 36-40

This week for literacy all our work was put into one slide. We had some work on vocabulary and then some questions to answer. The books getting REALLY good now. Ivan died during a shark attack, Mahmoud and his family are being held at gunpoint and Josef and his family can't get into Cuba and they must leave their father behind!

Polish Child Refugee Camp Story

As we sail into the harbour I cry. I miss my big sister Aurelia who disappeared one day. I miss Matka who died giving birth to my little brother Robert, who died soon after. But most of all I miss Beatcyrze, my little sister who died of pneumonia. If only one of us made it, I thought it would be her. She was brave and loving. I was the joker, the oldest, I was supposed to look after the others. It should have been me. 

The sound of laughter is everywhere. I hate it. They are all orphans, yet they can be happy, but I can’t. It’s not fair. I want to laugh and sing and be joyful. But ever since Beatrycze, my last family member died, I have been stripped of all happiness. No eleven year old girl should go through this. No one should go through this. 

Finally we dock in the harbour and Prime Minister Peter Fraser came aboard and gave an incredibly long speech. How he managed to write something that boring, I don’t know. Eventually I fell asleep. 

“Minnie, Minnie wake up!” an irritated voice yelled in my ear. “Matka?” I ask. She was the only person I knew that could be that grumpy. “No stupid, its time to go.” I recognised that voice instantly; it was that grumpy man in charge of me and the ten others in my group. I grudgingly push my brown hair out of my face and glare at him. He’s bald and has a big saggy nose, like a sack that was sewn onto his face. I poke my tongue out at him. “Minnie’s in trouble. Ohhhh '' the rest of my group chanted. I swore at them in German. Luckily Mr Nowak, or Kazimierz, destroyer of peace, as I like to call him, didn't understand me. So I did it again. I am half German but Matka was born in Poland as were Aurelia, Beatrycze and I. 

 I got up and started towards the exit, the others all pushed ahead of me shrieking with excitement and scrambling off the boat. Dragging my feet behind me I looked a sorry sight. A purple splotch around a foggy blue eye, hands and legs covered in scratches, walking with a limp. I was the original sob story. As bad as I felt, I was still amazed by this little country. There are fluffy white clouds in a clear blue sky. There are bushy green trees everywhere. The sea smells salty but in a nice way. I haven’t seen anywhere this beautiful in, well, I never have. A lady walks up to me. “Hello?” she said in an uncertain voice. Luckily Kazimierz made us learn basic English on the way. The only good thing he has ever done I reckon. 

“Hello, how are you?” I said as this was the politest thing I could think of. “Oh, hello dearie, how are you, weathers nice isn’t it, what's your name, I thought you couldn’t speak English…” she garbled on. I can’t understand that much English! “I can not understand you. I only know the basic basics.” I answered robotically. “Oh I’m so sorry.” she said practically bursting into tears. Why is she crying? The question I needed to ask her was not in my small list of vocabulary. This is a small list of what I understand. 

Hello 

Goodbye 

Thank you

How are you? 

I am good 

Right 

Left- In case we get lost 

I am lost. I am Polish refugee- so the locals know where to send us if we have to ask for directions

My name is Minnie 

I am very grateful to be in your wonderful country- I will NEVER say that. 

I can not understand you. I only know the basic basics- Kazimierz prepared us for this sort of situation.

 “How are you?” I repeat hoping she will stop her bawling. “I am fine, thank you sweetheart” she sniffs “Take these” she says as she thrust brightly wrapped sweets at me. I may not understand her but I know gifts when I see them. Besides, I haven’t had a lolly in years now. Beatrycze loved the pink ones, Aurelia loved the blue, but my favourite was always the yellow ones. “Thank you.” I say, then I grab them and run to catch up with my group. “Good luck” she calls after me. Hmm, I hope she wasn’t insulting me. 

 “What were you doing, Minnie?” Kazimierz growls at me. 

“Nothing” I mutter, glad to be able to speak in Polish again. 

“Open your hands.” 

“Why?” I reply hoping my cockiness will throw him off. No such luck. 

“NOW!!” he yells at me. I can’t lose these lollies. So I change tactic. 

“P-please, I haven’t had one in years, oh please Mr Nowak” I cry (I’m very good at acting). 

“NOW!!!” and he slaps me. Hard. 

“Oi, leave that little girl alone!” a lady in a black dress says fiercely. 

“Yeah, she hasn’t done nothing bad to you”!” says another, this time one in blue. The women swarm around him, yelling abuse and clouting him with their handbags. I haven’t been in New Zealand long but I’m enjoying it a lot so far. 

 Then the lady who gave me the lollies came over and said 

“I gave those to her. The rest of your group got lollies but you didn’t take the lollies of them, did you, hmm” she said sarcastically. 

“Who are you?” he asks, I’m scared he will hurt her. 

“My name is Janet, Janet Fraser. And who the dickens are you?” she replies. Kazimierz goes pale. 

“I’m s-so sorry, Mrs Fraser.” I’m very happy about this unexpected turn of events. You see Janet Fraser is… the prime minister's wife. “Scoot.” Janet Fraser says and Kazimierz fast walks off and the rest of my group follow him, like dogs going to bait. Pathetic. 

 “Thank you, my name is Minnie,” I say. Wait a minute. “German” I say pointing to my mouth. 

 “Ohh good!” she says suddenly speaking in German. On the boat one of our lessons was about her. Apparently she could speak German. And I guess that was true. 

“My name is Minnie, I speak German and Polish. Thank you for the sweets Mrs Fraser, I’m very grateful, I haven’t had one since my Matka died.” 

“Oh, that's sad.” 

“She died giving birth to Robert. Robert died soon after. My big sister Aurelia disappeared, she was probably murdered. And my little sister Beatrycze died of pneumonia.” I say sadly, opening my eyes as wide as possible. 

“Ohh.” I’ve shocked her. I always have that effect on people. 

 “And Papa ran away with a woman half his age.” I say to seal the deal. 

“Oh you poor thing, well, good luck.” she says briskly, shoves something in my pocket and hurries off. Finally, I was beginning to worry my plan wouldn’t work...

 You may be wondering why Kazimierz hates me. Is it because I am super awesome. Nope, Kazimierz does hate me for a reason though. You want to know why? His daughter was my best friend in the camp. Agata died of an unknown disease. Ever since then he has hated me as I remind him of her. 

I run to catch up with them and they board the train. Just before I hop on I check my pockets. Great, it's her purse! I check and it's stuffed with money! Yes. Phase 1 of my plan has succeeded. What’s that sound? “Meww?” It’s soft and sweet and pitiful. I look around, it's an adorable little kitten. She's a tabby with mossy green eyes. I was going to wait before I ran away but now I have a companion. I will call her Willow as she's unhealthily skinny and her eyes seem so forest-like. Rain starts to come down. At first a delicate mist that turns into raindrops pounding on the shelter above where I stand. Yet the birds are still singing their sweet song, if they can keep going even when times are tough, I know I can. So I scoop Willow up and jump on a different train. I’m not being a refugee.

In class we've been reading the book Refugee. For this weeks activity we wrote a story describing the experience the Polish children coming to New Zealand as refugees, in 1994. I based my story on my triple great grandmother. But she was not a refugee and she came over in the 1800s. But the Minnie in my story and real Minnie share the same determination, courage, sad beginning and survival instinct that is shown in my story.

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