I was convinced we were going to stay in the EU this morning.
The headlines would be a triumphant we have voted remain. A jubilant European flag waving.
It was never an easy vote. I have been swayed by both sides and heard, read around the debate. I'm no expert but I've not taken this vote lightly either.
On the one hand my heart was pining for something different to the status quo, business as unusual, a gamble, a new way of doing things.
My head however, was saying that strength came in working even harder at peace and unity. (I was even sighing as I said these words in my head). These efforts are, as I am realising, not cheap. They cost dearly: energy, passion, continual door knocking, inviting and table conversations and the sheer money involved thinking surely there's someone who can pay for this and realising that there's no one but you to step up and fork out the cash, the time, the energy, the persuasion, the sleeplessness and drive to get out of bed yet again to do the same. The gains as well are often small and almost baby steps. No 'Big Bang for a Buck' more like a 'pindrop for an IOU for more money than you have in a noisy room'.
This is the price of peace. It's you.
You can't buy it off amazon.
Peace is not cheap. And peacemakers are selling their souls, bodies to be slaves to this idea. Whether it's in the office, the school, the streets, the Calais Jungle, or the slums of Kiberia or the corridors of the Governments and United Nations.
Their opposition is: doubt, despair, laughter at your expense, ridicule, jibes, shaming, slander.
Their allies: belief, hope, love, collaboration, community, courage.
All that keeps going round and round my head are the words "blessed are the peacemakers".
I'm upset by the vote this morning. The EU in itself is not so much the issue for me, nor is the fact that the outcome didn't represent my vote nor my voice. But what really gets me is that we gave in to the opponents of peacemaking and peace building and bought into their rhetoric. That makes me feel used and dirty.
But peace is something that this family believes in and we're willing to pay the price. We're not giving up because of this vote and all the rhetoric that comes with it. We still believe in those words "blessed are the peacemakers" and stand with those who strive for peace.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Friday, 24 June 2016
Sunday, 19 June 2016
If only
If only somehow your mum saved you
If only you were strong enough to fly
If only we didn't find you as we rushed out
If only we didn't stop our curious boy who saw you first
If only we remained oblivious of your diminishing existence as you lay breathing your last few breaths
If only we knew exactly what you needed
If only we knew how to help you
If only we could actually do something meaningful for you
But it was your last breaths that we heard
But it was your body that we tried to warm
But it was only what we could do as life whisked us away for but an hour.
We did come back
You had breathed your last.
We did come back to see what more we could do
But there was nothing to do.
We did come back. But you were not alive.
If only we could have seen you fly
If only we could have heard you sing
If only you had survived
Thursday, 16 June 2016
Reunion
War is hell.
When it ends do you just pick up where you left from. Go back to the house you lived in. Buy coffee from the people who attacked you. It's a game changer. A world that is pulled away from beneath your feet leaving you alone, destitute and permanently amongst strangers.
The strength that remains turns towards survival. Clinging to the little that you already possess and the ones you travel with. Their safety become paramount.
This week a family I know prepare to reunite with a daughter, a sister next week.
They were separated in the aftermath of a cruel war that claimed a brother and son and a husband and father. Shortly after the mobs came for more. Violating. Stripping dignity from this family. Helpless. Alone.
They are thrown out of their home. A battered mother and her four young children. A son and three girls. The youngest; a few years old. Their neighbours turning upon them.
The war ends.
Their lives are overturned. No going back. Spending the next few years in a slum like community. The peace keepers remain.
The mother is given an option to spare her youngest this life that ensnares them. The poverty is more than cruel. It's cold. It's hunger. It's hopeless. It's loneliness. It's boredom. It's powerlessness. It's welcoming the stares of pity. Salvation, however, is offered to spare her child. To give her a future. To allow her the chance to grow up free from this place. The decision: to allow another to take the child and raise them.
An indecent proposal.
Painfully and reluctantly she accepts under conditions to keep in touch. To allow a return and access to the daughter & sister.
The family say goodbye.
The deal doesn't work out. They are palmed off after. They misunderstood their terms and were misled. A family ripped apart once again.
It's hard to find anything of hope in all of this. Sometimes it seems the only thing to do is to stop and just sit down with each other. No words.
This week I've been asked to pray as well over a decade later this young girl, now a young lady, returns to her family.
One of the sisters said "Soon my dream will become reality and that's all thanks to God."
In our prayers.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
When it ends do you just pick up where you left from. Go back to the house you lived in. Buy coffee from the people who attacked you. It's a game changer. A world that is pulled away from beneath your feet leaving you alone, destitute and permanently amongst strangers.
The strength that remains turns towards survival. Clinging to the little that you already possess and the ones you travel with. Their safety become paramount.
This week a family I know prepare to reunite with a daughter, a sister next week.
They were separated in the aftermath of a cruel war that claimed a brother and son and a husband and father. Shortly after the mobs came for more. Violating. Stripping dignity from this family. Helpless. Alone.
They are thrown out of their home. A battered mother and her four young children. A son and three girls. The youngest; a few years old. Their neighbours turning upon them.
The war ends.
Their lives are overturned. No going back. Spending the next few years in a slum like community. The peace keepers remain.
The mother is given an option to spare her youngest this life that ensnares them. The poverty is more than cruel. It's cold. It's hunger. It's hopeless. It's loneliness. It's boredom. It's powerlessness. It's welcoming the stares of pity. Salvation, however, is offered to spare her child. To give her a future. To allow her the chance to grow up free from this place. The decision: to allow another to take the child and raise them.
An indecent proposal.
Painfully and reluctantly she accepts under conditions to keep in touch. To allow a return and access to the daughter & sister.
The family say goodbye.
The deal doesn't work out. They are palmed off after. They misunderstood their terms and were misled. A family ripped apart once again.
It's hard to find anything of hope in all of this. Sometimes it seems the only thing to do is to stop and just sit down with each other. No words.
This week I've been asked to pray as well over a decade later this young girl, now a young lady, returns to her family.
One of the sisters said "Soon my dream will become reality and that's all thanks to God."
In our prayers.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Saturday, 21 May 2016
Turkey 6: what brings me here: bullets & empathy?
I'm here this week for the world's first Humanitarian summit assembled by the UN Secretary General Ban Ki moon.
He doesn't know me (though I have met him once before) but he has invited me, or our organisation, Empathy Action to be here.
Why? Because we showed some of his team what amazing people are doing to build from brokenness a livelihood. They are the UN and know this well. But I think we were able to speak not only to their heads but also to their hearts this time.
We were able to share our belief that everyone is a part of the solution to the broken planet we live on. It starts, however, with something very basic: caring, compassion and empathy. It starts with our hearts.
It's a different language but one that is so vital right now in an digital age that is somewhat industrialising the de-humanising process. A heart to heart conversation so to speak.
Here's a lovely video teaser that my colleague, and full time volunteer, made about Empathy Action at the #ShareHumanity conference:
https://www.facebook.com/empathyaction.org/videos/834460083325596/
More updates to come.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
He doesn't know me (though I have met him once before) but he has invited me, or our organisation, Empathy Action to be here.
Why? Because we showed some of his team what amazing people are doing to build from brokenness a livelihood. They are the UN and know this well. But I think we were able to speak not only to their heads but also to their hearts this time.
We were able to share our belief that everyone is a part of the solution to the broken planet we live on. It starts, however, with something very basic: caring, compassion and empathy. It starts with our hearts.
It's a different language but one that is so vital right now in an digital age that is somewhat industrialising the de-humanising process. A heart to heart conversation so to speak.
Here's a lovely video teaser that my colleague, and full time volunteer, made about Empathy Action at the #ShareHumanity conference:
https://www.facebook.com/empathyaction.org/videos/834460083325596/
More updates to come.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Turkey 5: siblings
I have a few hours left in this border city to Syria Before heading to the World Humanitarian Summit.
Sitting now in a hotel room I'm trying to encapsulate what it feels like to be here on a border city to Syria. It hosts, I'm told, over 200,000 displaced Syrians Which is a conservative estimate.
Antakya is a wonderful city. It boasts the first Christian church. An area that is rich with history.
My experience over the past 48 hours includes incredible hospitality, visits to Syrian schools, sitting in the houses of displaced widows and their families, speaking with people who are wanted men just a few kilometres over the border and even heard from people who've had their family members affected by the chemicals used in dirty bombs and even some whose bodies have been found in rivers after going to prison.
This city is special. But it is also tired.
My colleague said this place feels like the amazing big brother that is housing its younger sibling. However, like most visits to your home, there is a point where they wonder when are they going to move out. After awhile that wonder can turn to different feelings.
In my travels throughout this city I have been referred to as brother time and time again: "my brother", "you are not a friend you are my brother"... "Thank you my brother".
As for me, I know this being the youngest of three brothers that we all need those older, or younger, siblings to help us out.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Sitting now in a hotel room I'm trying to encapsulate what it feels like to be here on a border city to Syria. It hosts, I'm told, over 200,000 displaced Syrians Which is a conservative estimate.
Antakya is a wonderful city. It boasts the first Christian church. An area that is rich with history.
My experience over the past 48 hours includes incredible hospitality, visits to Syrian schools, sitting in the houses of displaced widows and their families, speaking with people who are wanted men just a few kilometres over the border and even heard from people who've had their family members affected by the chemicals used in dirty bombs and even some whose bodies have been found in rivers after going to prison.
This city is special. But it is also tired.
My colleague said this place feels like the amazing big brother that is housing its younger sibling. However, like most visits to your home, there is a point where they wonder when are they going to move out. After awhile that wonder can turn to different feelings.
In my travels throughout this city I have been referred to as brother time and time again: "my brother", "you are not a friend you are my brother"... "Thank you my brother".
As for me, I know this being the youngest of three brothers that we all need those older, or younger, siblings to help us out.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad
Location:İstiklal Caddesi,Haraparası,Turkey
Thursday, 19 May 2016
Turkey 4: early starts and more delays
Plane has just landed in Adana.
The weather in Antakya (our end destination) is prohibiting our direct travel there. It's hard to determine the specifics due to language.
It's 0735 and I am kind of wishing that maybe I should have slept in rather than get up at 0300.
But what a beautiful day it is outside.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
The weather in Antakya (our end destination) is prohibiting our direct travel there. It's hard to determine the specifics due to language.
It's 0735 and I am kind of wishing that maybe I should have slept in rather than get up at 0300.
But what a beautiful day it is outside.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:İstiklal Caddesi,Meydan,Turkey
Turkey 3: #YNWA
Been looking forward to the Europa cup final for weeks.
Liverpool progressed all the way overcoming old adversaries and old clubs for the new boss.
It's been a joy to see my team progress. I was even relishing the chance to see it in the city where they last won a European cup.
However, a delayed flight and tight turn around, passport control, visas, baggage reclaim and getting to a screen cost me the first 55mins of play. Thank goodness for whatsapp and sms updates.
I came in during the 2nd half and saw a 1-0 lead slip away. Woeful defending by us and excellent attacking from Sevilla made the end result a gutting 1-3.
Well done Sevilla. Disappointing. But what a great season this has been for my team. Thanks for it and you'll never walk alone!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Liverpool progressed all the way overcoming old adversaries and old clubs for the new boss.
It's been a joy to see my team progress. I was even relishing the chance to see it in the city where they last won a European cup.
However, a delayed flight and tight turn around, passport control, visas, baggage reclaim and getting to a screen cost me the first 55mins of play. Thank goodness for whatsapp and sms updates.
I came in during the 2nd half and saw a 1-0 lead slip away. Woeful defending by us and excellent attacking from Sevilla made the end result a gutting 1-3.
Well done Sevilla. Disappointing. But what a great season this has been for my team. Thanks for it and you'll never walk alone!
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Kemal Paşa Caddesi,Yeni Cami,Turkey
Wednesday, 18 May 2016
Turkey 2: dusk from the air
Always love the view of sun going down whilst in the air. I guess I must be somewhere above Eastern Europe.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Location:Havaalanı İçi Yolu,Sanayi,Turkey
Turkey 1: a dream come true
I have always wanted to theme out events that are saturated in stories of powerful partnership between the poor and rich.
This week that dream starts to come real. One area that I have been focusing on for the past several years are 'products with purpose' placed in the hands of people by caring people as a gift. For example at birthday parties or weddings and now events.
On Sunday I go to the world's first UN Humanitarian summit. The organisers care deeply about this area and want to convey this. They are doing so through the event, the agenda and also through a gift that we have helped create with partners in Cambodia.
The gifts are key rings made by people from a country that has emerged from a ruthless civil war. A war that left field and field of dead people. A regime of tyrannical dictator. From the bullets and artillery shells come these key rings that have been made by artisans for the participants of the summit.
The message of the summit is around shared humanity.
I'm stoked to be part of this and even more so to see a proof of concept from all those years ago.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
This week that dream starts to come real. One area that I have been focusing on for the past several years are 'products with purpose' placed in the hands of people by caring people as a gift. For example at birthday parties or weddings and now events.
On Sunday I go to the world's first UN Humanitarian summit. The organisers care deeply about this area and want to convey this. They are doing so through the event, the agenda and also through a gift that we have helped create with partners in Cambodia.
The gifts are key rings made by people from a country that has emerged from a ruthless civil war. A war that left field and field of dead people. A regime of tyrannical dictator. From the bullets and artillery shells come these key rings that have been made by artisans for the participants of the summit.
The message of the summit is around shared humanity.
I'm stoked to be part of this and even more so to see a proof of concept from all those years ago.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Thursday, 12 May 2016
Thank you cherry blossom
We love living on our road.
Especially at this time of year when the cherry blossom is out.
The last week has so has been spectacular. Walking home. Walking to the shops. Walking to football. It's been great. The trees are dressed in a deep pink that fills the road.
And now the tree opposite sheds the blossom leaving a stunning pile beneath. Walking back from the school run we stopped to show Ezra.
Thank you for the past few weeks. Hopefully see you next year.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Especially at this time of year when the cherry blossom is out.
The last week has so has been spectacular. Walking home. Walking to the shops. Walking to football. It's been great. The trees are dressed in a deep pink that fills the road.
And now the tree opposite sheds the blossom leaving a stunning pile beneath. Walking back from the school run we stopped to show Ezra.
Thank you for the past few weeks. Hopefully see you next year.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Tuesday, 26 April 2016
Monday, 4 April 2016
Kosovo #13: Three Kosovan-ism phrases
A few phrase "isms" that I've observed over the past few days:
"step-by-step": a common life phrase to describe the passage of time and the life journey between key milestones.
"Blah blah": they blah blah (with added hand gestures to signify talking) used to describe gossip. It was generally a negative.
"What to do?": a rhetorical expression of exclaiming "its out of my hands" or usually following an explanation of a dilemma or overwhelming problem.
Kososvo #12: do you have his mother's permission
Most weeks there's a permission slip request from school for one of the boys. Usually it's a fairly simple process.
I was caught off guard at Pristina airport at the passport control when the policeman asked whether I had permission from the boy's mother to travel.
There are a number of ways that I could have handled this. But the one I chose was, maybe not the best either, a vacant stare at the policeman completely lost for words for all of those few seconds before I blurt out "I'm his father!"
He looks at me. He looks down at Caleb.
A pause.
My mind is wrestling with whether I should say something or not.
He looks again and waves us through .
Trafficking children is still a big problem. The family we will be staying with had one of their children "given for adoption" during the post war period.
One group I worked with said that it's the airlines and their staff that "just know" who are being taken and they are powerless to intervene.
Caleb and I walk through hand in hand to get our baggage.
Sunday, 3 April 2016
Kosovo #11: Rahovec
Hers was the first house he visited.
He's been friends with them ever since. It was powerful hearing from Ray and Aferdita (Suzana's daughter) the stories over the years. A lot has happened to them. Ray is inbetween chemo treatments and timed this particular visit to Kosovo, with us, to fit in.
Someone like Ray was friends with my family when they were thrown out of their country Uganda in 1972.
When Aferdita tries to pay tribute to him (which is quite a few times), Ray is very quick to not take any praise and give thanks and credit to God.
Friday, 1 April 2016
Kosovo #9: call me Roberto Carlos
I still recall seeing that banana free kick against France at around the half way mark that former Brasil left back and free kick specialist Roberto Carlos swung both out and then in to the back of the net in 1997. I recall trying to practise that for ages.
Today I got invited to play football here in Gjakova. I was introduced, referred to whilst playing as Roberto Carlos. I even had a selfie taken as a result.
Shame I couldn't strike the ball like him.
Today I got invited to play football here in Gjakova. I was introduced, referred to whilst playing as Roberto Carlos. I even had a selfie taken as a result.
Shame I couldn't strike the ball like him.
Kosovo #8: playing blind
I was taught how the blind play chess. (And knit!)
My friend Shiape (the fifth best chess player in all Kosovo) kindly showed me. He was less enthusiastic about the knitting!
My friend Shiape (the fifth best chess player in all Kosovo) kindly showed me. He was less enthusiastic about the knitting!
Kosovo #7: the widows
Her children were denied to travel through a person's land to get to school. They had to therefore venture through a river to get there. Sometimes the river was a few inches high. Sometimes much more.
Her house backs on to this river. Currently there's a truck there and lots of rubbish floating around the edge. The tied up dog is also barking away.
We arrive armed with a few supplies of flour, meat, sugar, a tray of eggs, soap and other few items.
Upon arrival she shares about her high blood pressure and Ray says we'll get her some medicine.
She's a widow.
Her house backs on to this river. Currently there's a truck there and lots of rubbish floating around the edge. The tied up dog is also barking away.
We arrive armed with a few supplies of flour, meat, sugar, a tray of eggs, soap and other few items.
Upon arrival she shares about her high blood pressure and Ray says we'll get her some medicine.
She's a widow.
Kosovo #6: From a crumbling home to building a new one
This man proudly shows us around his home that he is building. It's about 18 months from completion I was told.
It is next to his current crumbling one.
It is next to his current crumbling one.
Kosovo #5: Blessed are the peacemakers
306 students.
We're in a primary school. The Head ushered us into his office and lady comes in delivering coffee one by one.
This school has been here since 1981. 35 years old. This Head has only been since 1996. This is actually quite a feat as his contract lasts 2 years before renewal. He's clearly good at his job as the last renewal was given without his consent.
He's not complaining.
He shares passionately about his students whilst his colleague finds a text book that he gives especially to Caleb.
He starts off by saying: "... y'know there was a war here sixteen years ago"
It's hard to stop a man midflow from here.
He goes on to share about the mixes of students including a 75 from the Roma communities and his acute desire to integrate people from all walks of community to encourage the future generation to feel and know that there are no barriers between people and races. A man with a dream.
His particular requests to us is to help to build a computer room and particularly for a disabled girl. A wheelchair to help the ten year old get to school. Currently her grandmother pushes her 2km every day here.
As we finish listening he asks Caleb which class he is in. Caleb says Year 5. He says let's go meet our Year 5s.
After 16 years peace making comes in the form of a place of learning that is desperately trying to ensure its students learn in inclusive environments.
We're in a primary school. The Head ushered us into his office and lady comes in delivering coffee one by one.
This school has been here since 1981. 35 years old. This Head has only been since 1996. This is actually quite a feat as his contract lasts 2 years before renewal. He's clearly good at his job as the last renewal was given without his consent.
He's not complaining.
He shares passionately about his students whilst his colleague finds a text book that he gives especially to Caleb.
He starts off by saying: "... y'know there was a war here sixteen years ago"
It's hard to stop a man midflow from here.
He goes on to share about the mixes of students including a 75 from the Roma communities and his acute desire to integrate people from all walks of community to encourage the future generation to feel and know that there are no barriers between people and races. A man with a dream.
His particular requests to us is to help to build a computer room and particularly for a disabled girl. A wheelchair to help the ten year old get to school. Currently her grandmother pushes her 2km every day here.
As we finish listening he asks Caleb which class he is in. Caleb says Year 5. He says let's go meet our Year 5s.
After 16 years peace making comes in the form of a place of learning that is desperately trying to ensure its students learn in inclusive environments.
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