Pleased to Meet You

There are those experiences that you'll remember forever. The sounds; the cry of a parent who's just lost their child. The videos; www.channel4.com/programmes/no-fire-zone/4od. And the image of a respectable monarch of your home country shaking the hand of an un-prosecuted and systematically immortal mass-murderer:

www.thetimes.co.uk

The world is the most perplexing place, even more so when you examine malicious hate crimes and attacks upon the innocent. 

  As part of our Amnesty International meeting this week, we watched a documentary called 'No Fire Zone' which detailed the absolutely horrific tragedies and deception that occurred during the 138 day Sri Lankan war. All filmed on handheld phone cameras and authenticated by experts, the film produces some of the most shocking and graphic images visible to the human eye; maimed civilians, total destruction and displacement and some of the most confounding and anger-provoking concepts that the human mind might ever know. 

To be honest, I didn't know all that much about the Sri Lankan war. I'd heard about it in passing, but I hadn't engaged with the full extent of the damage. Whilst I had been growing up, studying for GCSEs and going through an absolute fashion faux-pas, I had been oblivious, in every sense of the word, to the shocking daily struggles of our Sri Lankan counterparts. But as part of Amnesty International, my ignorance provided me with the motivation to prevent others turning a blind eye, or not realising, what was really going on in the world. 

We'd been campaigning in the main square at Uni, handing out leaflets to people who, either, thought we were trying to sell them something, didn't want to sign their name to a petition, thought we were mind-controlling activists or didn't care about human rights. In fact, we wanted as many people as possible to come and watch a documentary we were screening that evening and have them sign their names to prevent Sri Lanka chairing the Commonwealth. 

Having stood outside in the numbing cold for a few hours, we had managed to generate considerable support or interest, at least and as 4pm approached, I began to prepare to get myself back to Uni to watch the video. 

But I was, almost, reluctant to watch it. I haven't ever trusted myself with the strength of my stomach and my stubborn tears, which seldom appeared for anyone or anything would portray me as a cold-hearted brute if they did not fall at some point during the film. Nevertheless, I found myself seated in the second row. 

We were warned that it would be graphic. I had seen pictures of dead bodies before and I knew that I was alright with blood but what we watched that evening has scarred me in such a way that certain elements of the film shall never leave my mind. 

I couldn't stop the tears from falling as countless attacks on hospitals were announced, children waited for treatment on the cusp of death and women screamed in bunkers dug in the mud. The terror and grief of the whole scene was enormous. 

There was one scene that I know I shall hold with me forever. It was of a girl; I'd say about 15 to 22. She was laying on her back, in a foetal position behind a panel of corrugated tin sheltering a shallow pit. She was dead. The man filming the sight on his phone zoomed in to confirm it. Yet another tragic loss of life. Then, with a thunderous crack and severe jolt of the camera, the men were being fired upon. They ducked besides the girl, behind the guard she had made for herself, before they moved into a more stable shelter. As they came out, once the sound of shelling had ceased, her mother was besides the young girl. "Look at my daughter! Look at my daughter!" she screamed, arms flailing at her side. She was in despair. 

For me, this was the hardest part to watch and it chills me to think of it once more. I've been frustrated; agitated, and when I feel as though I can't find my way out, or I don't know what to do, I find myself flailing my arms, just as that mother did. I could empathize totally with her. In such a simple action, I could feel her pain. A deep wave of tears set in, right from the bowels of my stomach. I've never felt that way about an image. 

So when, at the end of the film, I saw the queen, eagerly out-stretching her hand to Mahinda Rajapaksa - the Sri Lankan President - I couldn't contain my disgust. He was, for the most part, to blame for the atrocities. Zones which has been designated as safe had been targeted by the army essentially trapping innocent people. 

I understand formality on the Queen's behalf. But there has to come a point in this world where someone, somewhere breaks the mould! And why couldn't that have been the Queen of England? Yes there would have been consequences for not shaking a diplomat's hand. Yes there would be criticism. But wouldn't that all have been justified if it was the right thing to do? Systems and tradition hold little importance when you are seen, publicly on television, to welcome a murderer. Maybe if I was the Queen I would have done the same. I hope I wouldn't have. But maybe under the strain I would have. But I don't think my heart would have let me carry on. You can plead ignorance in certain circumstances, but not this. If I had shaken the hand of a murderer - a mass-murderer - I could no longer hold my head high as I let people sing an national anthem asking for my protection. I would not show myself for birthday celebrations that I know very well, the nation will be watching. I wouldn't wave to spectators as I rode past in my horse-drawn carriage. I wouldn't even be in it. 

But if I didn't shake his hand - the hand of a killer - I would feel the revolution behind me. And I would be happy for it.

*

Please, please, please, if you've been moved by this post, help Amnesty International to prevent Rajapaksa becoming the chair of the Commonwealth and raise awareness for the abominable degradation of human rights in Sri Lanka. 

Follow the link and save a life; https://www.amnesty.org.uk/actions/sri-lanka-no-commonwealth-seal-approval-abuses?from=issues

Thank you. 

Time to move on ...

In a few days I'll be leaving Dubai. A country that has been such a lovely place to spend the last 2 years. It is, because of the memories I have here and the experiences it has given me, one of my favourite places to be. That isn't to say that there aren't parts to life out here that drive me absolutely insane or things that I desperately long for. Back in the UK everyday we used to walk our Cocker Spaniel across the common near our house for an hour and a half, twice a day. I hated it at the time. During the summer, a farmer used to keep his cattle in there. They were huge, horned and would sporadically run after dogs or tearaway puppies (as was ours) or charge, in stampede formation, for a drink at the community trough as though they were on a pub crawl. Every step you took had to be carefully calculated to make sure that you made it round the field before the cows blocked off the exit gate. That's not to mention the joy of walking through the dry, knee high grass in sandals on a blazing hot day and coming home with cow pat splattered up your leg and staining your feet.
In the winter, the field was always a test of character. The common was a series of hills, on top of which you could see all the way to town. Walking at the peak with the infamous British rain blowing through a raucous wind, dog walking became an activity of little enjoyment. It wasn't uncommon to not be able to feel our faces when we arrived home, dripping but thankful that it would be someone else's turn to take the dog later on in the day.
Now, having omitted the colour green from my eyesight since finding my home in the desert, I would give anything to go back to those temperamental bulls in that luscious field. That's something I can't wait to get back to.

If there's anything I'm guilty of, it's thinking too far forward and forgetting to live for the now. As I'm sure I've probably mentioned before I have always thought about having a job and family without thinking about how I would get there. So whilst I am excited to move back to England for a few years, there are so many thing I'll miss about not being in Dubai. I thought I'd write a few below.

Here are some of the many things I'll miss about Dubai!

• My favourite places.

One of my favourite places in Dubai is down by the creek. I absolutely love the feel down there and the different way of life. It's not really a place that gets a lot of credit from tourists so it's a secret retreat for a different perspective of Dubai. We've spent many nights, entertaining guests there, pointing out the lines of fridge freezers, tyres and bags of rice lining the dock that would, in another city, have already been stolen and sold on. It's always an excellent venue to take photos. There's so much activity and lights but one of the bet things to do there is to visit the spice souk. We always cross over and see with our noses, smelling each bright bag of cardamom, chili or dried herbs. 

Another one of my favourite places is Le Royal Meridien hotel. This was the first place we stayed in when we moved out to Dubai and it's the experience that epitomises Dubai for me. The reception hall was so grand and the pools so clean, that it was a world away from any other hotel I had ever stayed in. We only stayed a week though we were desperate to spend more time there. Thankfully, however, we are members of the pools there and occasionally pop down for the day to bask in the sun, swim in a chilled pool and walk the beautiful beach. Its a true day of luxury! 

• My favourite restaurants. 

One of the things I've come to learn is that one cannot simply live in Dubai and not be a fan of food. Every street you turn is lined with every eating establishment from, near on, every main worldly cuisine. Lebanese to Chinese, Indian to Middle Eastern, steaks to fish and cakes to dates. Everything! Absolutely everything! And I suppose that explains why most of the things that I do in my spare time involve booking a table, slipping into a loose skirt and loading my bag with restaurant vouchers. 

Ask me what my favourite restaurant is and, without a second's thought, I'll tell you that it's Kalidescope on The Palm. For me, that's a no-brainer. I think it's main selling point is the variety. It is expensive but with 2 vouchers, for the 5 of us it's well worth the money. A food-loving family, Kalidescope is right up our street. The buffet is HUGE with multiple stations including; sushi, salad, seafood, Indian, Indian vegetarian, Chinese, Italian and British as well as the dessert stand with hot Middle Eastern puddings and cold continental dishes, miniature potted treats (like pannacotta and cheesecake) and a GIANT chocolate fountain with steps leading to the milk chocolate waterfall, a selection of fruits an sweets rounding the base. And then, if you're still hungry, you can help yourself to ice-creams. 

• My favourite time of year.

I love being in Dubai during Eid; the end of the Ramadan fast. The city is so alive and it's such an important time of year for the whole country with events and celebrations that Muslims and non-Muslims alike can enjoy. 

• My favourite time of day.

During the summer, I love waking up early before the sun gets too warm and going out around the city. Even in the early hours the roads are still quite busy but you could walk the back streets and not see a person for at least an hour. In the winter the middle of the day is the best time. Having the ability to tan in the coolest time of year is quite a novelty.