Chapter 2: Bergman’s Story—The Early Years
I came across the Border Sea in a boat with five other boys and a group of fifteen men who were returning from their week in the Land of Women. During the day we six boys sat together on the deck in the sarongs our mothers had made for us and at night we huddled together for warmth in the cabin. The men talked to us, made us laugh, and generally tried to make us feel comfortable, but for long periods of time the only sounds to be heard were the splashing of water against the side of the boat and the occasional sob. I don’t remember crying, although I’m sure I did. I remember staring at the vast blue sky and picturing my mother, etching her image into my mind so I wouldn’t forget her. And for most of my life I didn’t. Only in recent years has she
