The Jungle

by Joe Robertson

  Maz – furthest from the door –

  Norullah – because I can’t hide myself!

  Beth Now we’re getting somewhere! Write that down.

  Sam (to Beth) Do you always teach in those leggings?

  Beth What’s wrong with my leggings?

  Sam Nothing. Just that some of the other female volunteers cover their arms, legs. Saw a girl from Chiswick basically arrive in a burka.

  Beth I don’t really think about it, to be honest. But I’m glad you are. Thanks.

  Sam I’m not having a go.

  Beth No, I know.

  Sam Just interested.

  Beth I’m glad you see me as a female volunteer.

  Sam Not just that.

  Beth While we’re on clothing, you should ditch the Barbour jacket. This isn’t Monarch of the Glen. (Back to the class.) OK, what next?

  Maz Because come the box.

  Helene No, the box comes –

  Maz The box comes down like …

  Norullah Like this. He pushes the box on the box!

  Beth Another box?

  Norullah Yes!

  Beth And then what happens?

  Norullah And then he –

  Helene Closes the door!

  Beth What door? I thought you came in through a hole!

  Norullah This is different try. We try five times each night!

  Helene Keep up, Miss Beth!

  Beth Sorry! So your friend closes the door.

  Norullah Not my friend. My friend –

  Maz Hello!

  Norullah He is inside the lorry.

  Maz I am inside lorry!

  Helene Everyone knows you can’t lock lorry door from inside lorry.

  Maz I think Miss Beth has never try!

  Beth So who closes the door?

  Omar Man!

  Beth Do you pay the man?

  Norullah No, no, not smuggler, he is helped me.

  Beth He what? Present tense.

  Norullah He is helping me.

  Beth Complete the sentence.

  Norullah He is helping me hide inside the lorry!

  Beth Why does he help you?

  Helene We take in turns each night to help.

  Norullah And tomorrow I help him.

  Safi enters with Okot.

  Safi Beth, I have a new student for you.

  Beth jumps out the box. Norullah eyes Okot.

  Beth Great! What’s your name?

  Okot doesn’t respond.

  Safi He’s called Okot.

  Beth Nice to meet you, Okot. We’re telling a story. We’ve cut the canvas of a lorry, climbed through the hole, and hid inside a box, and that’s where we are at the moment. What happens next, Norullah?

  Norullah stares at Okot.

  Come on! I want to hear.

  Norullah Lorry drive, is drive long way. I think this is good chance!

  Yasin Then lorry stops.

  Norullah I hear the door.

  Maz Torch shines in.

  Omar Box lid opens.

  Beth Oh no! Who is it?

  Helene Police!

  Norullah But special police. He looks at me and smiles –

  Beth What do you think happens next, Okot?

  Okot I don’t understand.

  Beth What does the policeman say?

  Okot He say, ‘Go back to Jungle, no chance.’

  Norullah He said, fuck you!

  Beth Norullah, no. Okot is our policeman. What happens next? This time, past tense.

  Norullah Oh, shit. D, d, d.

  Beth You can do it.

  Norullah Same night –

  Beth The same night -

  Norullah The same night, I got in different lorry. But this time I use my mind.

  Okot Used.

  Norullah Fucking D! Used. D. D. I can’t do fucking past!

  Beth The past is hard, but you can do it.

  Helene Everyone goes for the furthest box.

  Norullah But I went for the nearest. Lorry drived –

  Okot Drove. The lorry drove.

  Beth Good, Okot! It’s an –

  All Exception!

  Norullah Mother fuck exception, fucking black man fucking –

  Norullah goes for Okot and they fly into a brawl. Beth tries to separate them but is hit by a stray hand. Safi pulls them apart. Norullah runs out. Okot’s face is bleeding.

  Safi Everyone out.

  Beth Okot, you stay.

  The school empties.

  Shit.

  Beth, Okot and Safi are left.

  I’ve got a first-aid kit.

  Sam (now wearing a bright yellow raincoat, to Beth) Going well?

  Beth Oh, you know. We fight, we fought, we will fight. Nice jacket. (To Okot.) How long have you been here?

  He doesn’t respond.

  Safi Two months.

  Beth Your age?

  He doesn’t respond.

  Safi He says he’s twenty.

  Beth Your real age?

  Okot Seventeen.

  She shakes her head.

  This is the life we have.

  Beth Are you here by yourself?

  Okot My uncle has good chance. He is in Leicester.

  Beth Does everyone have an uncle in Leicester?

  Okot smiles.

  This will hurt.

  She cleans the cut. Okot flinches.

  Your English is really good. You should be teaching me.

  Okot My mother taught me.

  Beth She’s a teacher?

  Okot She lives with books. She always tells me words are so important. I learn for her.

  Beth She’s right.

  She sticks a plaster on his cut, Okot flinches, and she notices bruising down his neck.

  Have you been trying every night?

  Okot Yes.

  Beth I can tell. Your neck is …

  Okot My whole body. Not just from trying. This is from long time.

  Pause.

  Beth Have you thought about claiming asylum here?

  Okot Why would I do this?

  Beth France is a good country.

  Okot You think this is good country?

  Beth The Jungle isn’t France. There are lots of great cities. You’d be able to go to school. Music school. If you want, we could go and speak to a legal person –

  Okot gets up and moves away from her.

  Okot I have one dream.

  Beth Tell me.

  Okot You can help.

  Beth Oh, I’m sorry. That’s the one thing I can’t help you with.

  Okot See. I stand on the beach and see the white cliffs. Give me your phone.

  Beth looks to Safi for guidance.

  Safi It’s up to you.

  She hands Okot her phone. He types in his number then calls his own phone and saves her number.

  Beth Come back tomorrow?

  Okot Not if this crazy Afghan is here.

  Beth He will be. But I want you to come back.

  Okot God willing, tonight I have good chance.

  Beth Inshallah.

  Okot Salutations, Miss Beth.

  He leaves.

  Sam spreads a big map of the Jungle across the floor.

  Sam What do you think?

  Beth Have you actually built any houses yet?

  Sam Nearly.

  Beth What’s Quadrant 4?

  Sam South, along Route des Gravelines.

  Beth Kurdistan?

  Sam No, it’s an area where some Kurdish people live.

  Beth So it’s Kurdistan.

  Sam It’s an area populated principally by Kurdish people.

  Beth Otherwise known as Kurdistan.

  Sam But where does Kurdistan end and Iran begin?

  Beth Sounds like Kurdistan to me.

  Sam It’s imprecise.

  Beth The world’s imprecise.

  Sam Look, I’ve divided my map into quadrants. The area of the Jungle where lots of Kurdish people live, which is also an area where some Iranians live, as well as
a few Pakistanis, Palestinians and several caravans of people from Peckham, that is Quadrant 4.

  Beth Quadrant 4, with its unique and ancient culture.

  Sam If it’s called Kurdistan there are tensions. It has to be objective.

  Derek (to the meeting) Housing distribution.

  Sam hands out copies of his map.

  Sam This is my methodology for distributing houses. I have considered many factors, of which nationality is only one. I’ve done a very basic count of the areas, by tents. This is the map I’ve made. I’m estimating the Sudanese are the largest population –

  Salar Afghanistan is the largest.

  Mohammed We don’t know that, Salar.

  Sam Let’s say they’re equivalent?

  Salar They’re not.

  Ali Where is Kurdistan?

  Sam It isn’t on there.

  Ali You don’t recognise State of Kurdistan?

  Sam No. I mean, yes. I’m grouping it with Iraq and Iran, in this quadrant here –

  Ali You’re doing what?

  Sam Or not …

  Ali Do you have any idea of our history?!

  Sam None of the nationalities are on there –

  Derek OK, shall we move on to the next item? Food hygiene!

  Beth (to Sam) Going well?

  Sam Be nice.

  Beth What school did you go to?

  Sam Is it relevant?

  Beth Maybe.

  Sam Eton. I went to Eton.

  Beth No! Did you actually?

  Sam Don’t say it like that. This isn’t me coming out.

  Beth It is relevant. I’ve never met anyone from Eton before. Do we shake hands or …?

  Sam Shut up.

  Beth Do I kiss your feet?

  Sam You kiss my ass.

  Derek (to the meeting) Sam has a new proposition for housing.

  Sam OK, Kurdistan is Kurdistan. Afghanistan, Sudan, Syria, Eritrea, Iraq, Iran. And then the smaller nationalities – Kuwait, Egypt, Somalia and so on. We will distribute in proportion. So, if I can build one hundred houses a day, let’s say, I’ll start by building twenty in Afghanistan –

  Salar Good.

  Sam And twenty in Sudan.

  Mohammed Yes.

  Sam Ten each in Syria, Eritrea, Iraq, Iran, Kurdistan. And the remaining ten for the smaller nationalities. Any questions? Good. The second factor I’ve considered is need. This falls under five sub-categories. Gender, age, illness or disability, time spent in the Jungle and the condition of your current dwelling. So, a woman with children will generally be housed before a single man, but a single man who has been here for five months, who has scabies, whose tent is flooded, may get a house before a single woman. Does that make sense?

  Derek It’s very good, Sam.

  Sam I’ve weighted it. It’s like an algorithm.

  Helene Algorithm?

  Sam Sorry, it’s an English word.

  Safi It’s an Arabic word, actually.

  Sam It’s an Arabic word that means formula. An equation.

  Ali What happens when the owner of a house has good chance?

  Sam It’s reallocated to someone living in that person’s quadrant. Sorry, country.

  Mohammed How many houses can you build?

  Sam Right now, I’m on six a day. But if I can rely on all of your help, there’s no reason I can’t build a hundred.

  Helene How will they be built?

  Sam I’ve streamlined production. We buy materials in bulk now, which saves money. The design is good. Pallets for the base. Four walls with insulation. Sloping roof and waterproof canvas. We build the shelters in flat-pack off-site because it speeds up production. Most of you are better builders than we are, so we bring the pieces in and you put them together yourselves.

  Boxer enters.

  Salar What is he doing here?

  Sam Boxer has offered to lead on assembly on-site.

  Boxer I’ve got a drill with sixteen bits, hammer, an axe, chainsaw and a screwdriver. Made the mistake of lending my spanner to an Afghan and you can all guess what happened there.

  Salar shouts in disgust.

  I have conditions. I don’t like talking on the job, especially in languages I don’t understand. You want to chat, I’ll meet you in the bar after and once I’m there I’m golden. But, at the end of the day, we’re not here because we like each other. We’re here because we have to be. Either because we’ve been forced or because we have a duty. So that’s that really. And if you have any complaints, there’s no grievance policy or shite like that. Just bugger off and get on with it. And don’t touch my fucking tool box.

  Derek Thank you, Boxer.

  Salar I am not happy that the drunk man builds our houses.

  Beth (to Sam) Why are you here?

  Sam What does that mean?

  Beth Don’t see any other Eton folk round these parts.

  Sam You’ve not been to the Eton area? It’s just beneath the motorway, between Kurdistan and the portaloos.

  Beth Quadrant 5? You haven’t told your parents you’re here.

  Beth’s phone goes off. She doesn’t recognise the number, rejects.

  Sam What have you told yours?

  Beth That I’m running a school in the Jungle.

  Sam And they don’t mind?

  Beth They love it! My mum does bun sales. Where do they think you are?

  Sam Tutoring an oligarch’s son in Lyon.

  Beth Jesus. Thank God I’m not posh. They’d be really proud of you.

  Derek (to the meeting) I think this system will work.

  Sam This system will work.

  Salar You will face many problems. There are tensions here. Old wars.

  Sam It’s really quite complicated organising something like this. Fundraising, volunteers, vans, without … all of that.

  Salar You ask us to forget?

  Sam To be honest, it would be really helpful if you could.

  Mohammed We are friends here.

  Salar One day I will tell you about my village in Afghanistan. You have destroyed it three times in the last two hundred years.

  Mohammed Leave him alone, Salar.

  Sam I’ve never destroyed your village.

  Salar Your army has.

  Sam My army?

  Helene While you are all arguing, many Eritrean women are still in tents. The only protection we have is a whistle from Paula. We need strong wooden houses with doors and locks. We need this now. Not more problems.

  She leaves.

  Mohammed When can we see your algorithm, Sam?

  Sam You can’t.

  Salar Why not?

  Sam It’s in my head.

  Pause.

  Mohammed How do we find you?

  Sam Look for the yellow coat.

  Derek Alright, good progress on housing. Now, is there any other business?

  Maz We have heard the border will open on 21st October. What can we do to prepare?

  Derek I’m not sure …

  Yasin Border opens?

  Maz Yes, Mr David Cameron decides.

  Loud cheers.

  Derek Now, wait. Just hold on –

  Yasin How is we not know this?! Who told you!

  Derek Please, everyone –

  Norullah We go UK!

  Derek No! The border will not be opened in October.

  Maz What day?

  Derek Not any day. I don’t know where you heard this, but it absolutely isn’t true. Safi?

  Safi Derek means it is rumour. A false rumour that has spread.

  Anger rises.

  Car horns beep from the motorway.

  Derek Please, this is a safe space!

  Yohannes Dugar! Dugar!

  Everyone rushes out.

  Derek We still need to action …

  Boxer What the hell was that?

  Salar Dugar.

  Safi Traffic jam on the motorway.

  Boxer Fucking classic. Got to see this!

  Derek Well, I thought that was the best
so far.

  FIVE

  THE TEST

  Safi When does a place become a place? By November in the Jungle I could walk from Sudan through Palestine and Syria, pop into a Pakistani café on Oxford Street near Egypt, buy new shoes from the marketplace, Belgian cigarettes from an Iraqi corner shop, through Somalia, hot naan from the Kurdish baker, passing dentists, Eritrea, distribution points, Kuwait, hairdressers and legal centres, turn left on to François Hollande Street, stop at the sauna, catch a play in the theatre, mass at the church, khutba in a mosque, before arriving at Salar’s restaurant in Afghanistan. When does a place become home?

  Night time. It’s Salar’s birthday. A cake is lit, and everyone sings.

  Derek Do you remember the gentleman in the tweed jacket who ate here last week? It was A.A. Gill, restaurant reviewer for the Sunday Times, newspaper of record of the Great British Isles. And his review is just out.

  Mohammed unveils a beautiful framed copy of the review.

  Take it away, Mohammed.

  Mohammed ‘The room is a tent –

  A cheer. Cheers throughout the speech.

  – with a make-do kitchen in one corner, a couple of gas rings, a banged-together counter, a kettle, some pots and pans … The dishes come hot and generous, with fluffy, nutty white rice. The red beans are a great, solid, aromatic dose … as warm and uncomplicated as a hug. The surprise, the great surprise, is the chicken livers. They are perfect … like earth and grass and licked copper. The sauce is pungently hot … This was a properly, cleverly crafted and wholly unexpected dish, made with a finesse that defied the surroundings, but at the same time elevated them …’

  Mohammed hands it to Salar.

  Happy Birthday, my friend.

  Salar Four stars for atmosphere –

  A huge cheer.

  And four stars for the food!

  Norullah Eight stars!

  Salar I have five on TripAdvisor.

  Norullah Thirteen stars!

  ‘Hip, hip, hoorays’, and calls for a speech.

  Salar Alright, thank you, thank you. I don’t know how you all found out –

  Norullah I told them!

  Salar Yes. My restaurant man. Something funny. In Afghanistan many people do not know their birthday. Because of the wars, no one kept records. So, and this is true, I have … I had thirty-seven friends who all have birthday on January 1st. But I am lucky. My mother wrote it down! This is maybe the strangest place I have celebrated my birthday. And the strangest group of friends. But friends. That’s all. Now get out my restaurant! There is a border to cross!