In a hot, dusty car park within sight of Ibiza’s old town, but a world away from the Balearic island’s hedonistic clubs and bougainvillaea-fringed villas, Ami Mohamed-Ali sits in his van, patiently brewing the first of three late-afternoon cups of strong tea.
“The first glass is bitter like life,” says the 33-year-old seasonal worker from Western Sahara, quoting an old refrain. “The second is sweet, like love, and the third is soft, like death.” As he adjusts the camping stove and pours the liquid from glass to glass to ensure a decent head of foam, Mohamed-Ali ponders his living quarters without a trace of life’s bitterness. So what if this van is his home for the next six months?
“I don’t really like to complain because I’m from a refugee camp that’s home to thousands of people,” he says. “Plus, I’m much better off than a lot of my countrymen, who are living in the desert.”
Mohamed-Ali is one of a growing number of locals and foreign workers who find…
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