The Lahore Journal #8: Learning to trust: (postscript) ... so what?

I'm paraphrasing, but here's the inspiration for what this has been about: "I was concerned about the world. Why there was was, starvation. Unrest. When thinking about world peace I didn't really know where to start. And that seemed to be it. Where do we start... and that was when I realised what if... what if we had a starting point. Just one day to think about this. One day to start something" (from Jeremy Gilley, founder of Peace One Day)

For me, more personally, this was the chance to think about peace. An opportunity to chance my arm with a country that I knew very little about save that Indians and Pakistanis don't like each other.

Lahore I've loved getting to know you. But I'm so thrilled that you have welcomed me and allowed me to find some peace here.

I don't think I could have done this from home sitting at a screen. Or through reading books, watching films. I need to come here to meet you in person.

Thank you. I hope to come back.

Here's what has happened after Lahore.

The Lahore Journal #7: Learning to trust: the peace dove

This is what the last few days has been about.

Our goal to start much needed conversations about peace around the world. Using nothing but scraps.

#PeaceDoves project by NRS International and Empathy Action from NRS International on Vimeo.

The Lahore Journal #6: Learning to trust: by your deeds you shall know them

We had an incredible time with these people and in the brief time were able to carve out an experience that took us all away from our everyday lives to craft a moment.

It was an honour to be there among everyone.

Meet the ladies who are trying to make peace:

Khalida


Fouzia


Sana


Nazia


Shagufta


Shaista


and the team


Whilst not being able to convey much about myself during the brief time we were beyond the tasks in hand. One moment arrested me. Kind of stopped me in my tracks, During our brief time there. Towards the end of the workshops, one person came up to me and caught me off guard with a question.They asked me whether I was a Christian. I wasn't expecting this. They said it was something that struck them about me. I never mentioned it.

The Lahore Journal #5: Learning to trust: one to one

I'm here in Pakistan with an Australian who lives in England. A Dutch lady who lives in Dubai and represents a Pakistani company. And I'm an Indian who was born in England with parents from Uganda.

Our mission here is to produce 650 doves made from scraps. scraps of blankets, tents, and other items that when delayed are used to save lives. The company I'm with is called NRS International. They are a leading producer of humanitarian aid items. Aid items that used in disasters, the refugee crisis and parts of deprivation. They manufacture over 3.5 million items every year for the likes of UN agencies, NGOs and more.

Today our goal is to train up five ladies with a specific skill. Sewing together a peace dove. Made up from blankets and tarpaulins.

My colleague and friend Sandy is the innovator and trainer- she designed the dove. The partner group NRS, spearheaded by Wieke who is the driver- she commissioned and resourced the whole enterprise. Me, I'm the story teller.

I already feel like the non essential party right now. My job to ensure that the fruit of today's workshop will live on to the people who will hold this dove and pass on from one to another etched as a bit part to a much broader story: bringing about world peace one person at a time.

The Lahore Journal #4: Learning to trust: "Who do you support in Cricket?"

Lord Tebbit devised it and it was dubbed as the 'cricket test' for British Indians to test them on where they really place their alliances.

The test was simple, answer this question: who do you support in in cricket match between India & England.

This was how I, and many British Indians, were to be teased out. It was the shibboleth. I even remember being asked it a fair few times over the years by friends and those around me.

The answer was different too. It depended on whether I'd be accepted or not or when I didn't care how I'd be received. But every time it did feel like a test.

Whichever answer I gave I lost.

I felt the failure and the one who let down a part of their identity. If the answer was England it was the shunning of my Indian heritage and if it were India it was to the loss of my identity connection with the (more often than not British or White) asker and the country that I was brought up in and associate myself with. The real answer was: both and none. It was never one or the other. The casualty of this question, however was always the same, it was always my perceived loyalty. The wound of betraying my identity and the shame of publicly denying who I am.

So when the top guy, my host, part of the top Pakistani families and fairly familiar with the political scene, talks to me, he has a playful tone. Lots of witty anecdotes and a lot of conversation around the Indian-Pakistan history and tensions between the countries. I try my best to demonstrate that I'm not like the others and actually don't have a problem with this. I even managed to express my desire for there to be replaces the state of rivalry with one of friendship. Was I chancing my arm properly? I really wanted him to not label me as every other Indian he'd met. I wanted to prove to him I'm not like them. I was hoping that this would be a moment of peace between us. My proverbial arm outstretched. A kind of "I'm an Indian but I'm ok. I don't hate Pakistanis".

He then hit me with the question: "Yes. Yes, but who would you support in a game of cricket between India & Pakistan?"

Instinctively I replied India. He replied "There you go"

I'm labelled. Enter the failure hangover.

The Lahore Journal #3: Learning to trust: the side story

In 1492 during a bitter feud between two rival families. One family, on the run, found shelter in chapel. The other family were pressing in upon them. They surrounded the chapel.

during those closing moments, the pursuing family head realised the futility of the war between the families. The family and people inside the chapel cowered and failed to trust the promise of peace offered to them. They remained.

In a final attempt to reconcile the Earl himself, the one in charge went to the door of the chapel. He cut a hole in it. Realising that the family behind the door knew not his intentions nor could he persuade them through his words of his genuine attempt for reconciliation thrust his own arm through the door offering a hand, or arm, of peace.

In a moment of vulnerability the Earl of Kildare's arm lay open for attack or open for grabbing a chance for peace. The Earl of Ormond and his army who were stuck inside saw his nemesis' arm and chose the latter.

To this day the term 'chance your arm' has been coined to suggest acts of bravery, or great risk, to achieve something worthwhile.

This trip seems more than just a work trip. It’s more than just a visit to Pakistan. It’s about a journey into the very heart, for me, of trust, trusting and forgiveness. Perhaps even a time to chance my own arm?

The Lahore Journal #2: Learning to trust: the back story

My great aunt was rescued during the violence of the Partition by my grandfather. 

She was studying to be a doctor. Her aspirations and dreams were to help others. To repair, help and heal. 

She was displaced again when living in Uganda during Idi Amin’s expulsion of Indians. She moved to the UK this time helped by a church in Sevenoaks. During her time in the UK she become a teacher right up to the time of her stroke in 80s.

She never went back to the medical degree.

I recall once sat on the sofa with my Papa watching India play Pakistan at Cricket. He used to come back on his lunch breaks. Rarely, we'd watch together, not that I was into cricket then, but we were there together on this one occasion. He was not only glued to it he was very animated. I asked him, whilst he was eating, why do Indians dislike the Pakistanis. He quickly responded it was because they left when they should have stayed together. He continued eating and cheering as the match continued.

This hatred, rivalry and deep mistrust is something that I never wanted. I don’t like nor do I wish to entertain it. But all of sudden it is confronting and defining me just by mere virtue of my ethnicity.

It was there whilst trying to obtain a visa.

It was there when determining whether I should go on a forthcoming trip to Lahore.

It was there when I shared with my family that I am going to Pakistan.

It's there.

The Lahore Journal #1: Learning to trust: Preamble

What’s so special about trust anyway.

Honestly, I was fairly flippant with it as a kid.

Trusted everyone, anyone. I still do. Then later on after a few let downs, I learnt the craft of just giving people the impression that I trusted them. Man, those let downs were painful. But the kid's instinct in me still remained.

So I find myself asking is trust really all it's meant to be. Particularly when other people start to try and control how and who I should trust.

When being told to not trust someone it feels like a conspiracy theory. An episode out of the X-Files or a James Bond movie. It's as if there’s a sense that there's yet-to-be-determined body of evidence out there waiting to justify, incriminate or demonstrate who not to trust to reveal their infamy.

The problem I have, including being told what to think at the best of times, with this is: it bugs me.

It bugs me that we learn to be suspicious and that eventually our experience teaches us to adopt a protect yourself mindset. Protect your body. Protect your mind. Protect and by all means temper your hope. Dp not get too vulnerable.

It bugs me that we have to admit that this mindset is right and correct. It will protect us. keep you safe from being let down or whispering "I told you so".

It bugs me that in the same breath we yearn for breakthroughs of peace and pathways pioneered by others who are risking harm and their lives to show that we don’t have to be suspicious.

... and that's the real conflict: bad people, bad realties, exploitation, manipulation (AKA the real world) vs the hope that we have each other’s backs... and that we would help each other at the crucial moment (AKA the world we'd love to live in).

I hate it because its the norm I don’t want.

So when my own father warns me to temper my trust. It bugs me.

His intentions are nothing but sound. His love is nothing but real for his littlest son. I would most likely be the same. My wife often tells me that I’m very trusting and says it’s ‘a lovely thing’. She says it in such a way that makes me feel like I'm a bit innocent of reality. Just like my father is when he tells me not to trust people.

I’m heading to Pakistan. It’s the neighbour of India (my ethnic motherland). India and Pakistan hate each other. Or so I’m told.