THE STORY BUYER THE BABY CARRIER Here’s the deal, why shouldn’t I tell you? I’m not afraid. You get pregnant here and around the seventh month you’ve got to cross the border into Greece. You suck in your belly, wear baggy clothes, that’s why it’s better to choose colder weather. You light up a cigarette while they check your passport, to keep calm and cool on the one hand, and to not give away that you’re pregnant, on the other. Of course, the guy who’s taking you across has greased some palms, but you’ve got to do your part, too. So you cross the border. You sit on the outskirts of Athens for two months in some windowless room, like a closet. You don’t go out anywhere, so as not to run into any trouble. You just lie around, watching TV and eating like a pig. They feed you well, because the goods have got to be healthy. So you carry it to term, they have gotten in touch with the buyers, they say you’re a relative, they find you a doctor and you give birth illegally.
