The Colour of Blood

I have a friend* who has a done a most wonderful thing. A month ago he added to his family by travelling to Africa and adopting an orphaned child.

There will always be the argument about taking children out of their cultures - but there can never wholly be an absolute right or an absolute wrong when what stares you back in the face is a two month old child, severely undernourished, sick and weak. What choice do we make when faced with this dilemma?

Perhaps the 'ideal' solution is to move to the country so that a child can be raised amongst their own cultural kind, but it is never that easy - conflict zones have their own dangers and people often make the choice to move to places where opportunities and resources are more plentiful.

Anyway, here in the UAE, there are the usual immigration rules. The child was allowed in, but yesterday, the now three month old child had to leave the country to make a border crossing to revalidate his visa. Three months old. This would not be the case had the child been a British, US, Canadian, Australian or New Zealand national.

Intercontinental adoptions aside, one day, I hope, that extra privileges are not determined by things like colour of skin, passport or national identity. After all, African, Asian or white European cut the surface and then observe underneath - we all have the same colour of blood.

*he is a Pashtoon, point of fact

Weekend Over ...

Au Revoir Toronto, Canada - Salaam Abu Dhabi, UAE.

From Sea to Sea: O Canada!

O Canada!

O Canada! Our home and native land!
True patriot love in all thy sons command.
With glowing hearts we see thee rise,
The True North strong and free!
From far and wide, O Canada,
We stand on guard for thee.
God keep our land glorious and free!
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.
O Canada, we stand on guard for thee.

Crossroads

I'm at a crossroads - I ponder, quite often, where I will be next. I don't mean where I will travel to, although that does come into it. But what I mean is where in the world, does someone like me consider home? I'm really drawn to do something positive for my people - so I would like to make a positive impact in the Pashtoon heartlands. But I'm a British oddity and I think of things like career and schooling for the children. I'm also very affected by the security situation and the availability of basics such as electricity and clean water. Where exactly, can I find my bit of spiritually - to whence do I belong?

The places that I wanted to travel to this summer - Swat and Afghanistan - I am now being warned against going to. With the war, I am affected again. I had hoped to spend time in the villages in Lower Swat, to take in the environment, to give my children the opportunity to keep up with their Pashto and to look, interact and learn. Of course, the same can happen elsewhere, but this was going to be different.

This summer is something of an open-book. The Swat refugee crisis created something of an emergency so the wedding that we had intended to attend in the valley was brought forward and took place in Karachi last week. My wife and daughter flew there for a couple of days - it was her brother's wedding after all. I still intend to travel to Pakistan, and our initial plan is to stay in the family home in Karachi. I'm still keen on going to Afghanistan, but will need to judge the mood. In any case, very shortly we will be travelling to Toronto, Canada where I intend to "land" as an immigrant.


... InshAllah, a whole new chapter awaits to be written ...