African Windows and Doors

Ensconced in the warm and cozy homes we take for granted in our North American lifestyle, it is easy to forget that neither safety nor comfort are a given for a vast majority of the world’s citizens.

Nairobi





Nowhere has the line between the haves and have-nots been so clearly drawn for me as it was on a trip to Kenya several years ago.  Our safari tour found us lodged each night in beautiful surroundings, with turquoise pools to splash in, and so sumptuous a dinner buffet laid out that we could scarcely make a dent in it.

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On route to the next lodge in the mornings, we watched schoolchildren and adults emerge from their small houses, impeccably dressed for the day in uniforms and bright shirts. A steady stream of people made their way along each side of the road, often walking long distances to work or class.

Their daily struggle to get by requires ingenuity and tenacity.

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Outside the city, youngsters carried home jars of kerosene for use in the family cooking pots. Adults set up their sewing machines and shops outdoors…others led donkeys to aid in bringing home precious water...

and at every corner, groups of men gathered together...clear indication of a fractured economy that does not guarantee a job for everyone.

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I came home with renewed appreciation for what I have, and a desire to share some of that goodness with those who must make do with so little.
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I will return to Africa, this I know, but not to take...next time it will be my turn to give.

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I am linking this post to Mary T’s ‘Window Views…and Doors Too.’ Drop by her wonderful page to see more…

http://windowviews2.blogspot.com/

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The Immigrant Experience

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Cameras played little part in my childhood. This is a rare, early photo of me with my brother Martin in Belfast.

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I came to Canada as a child, caught up in the wave of hopefuls who fled Great Britain in the difficult years following WWII in search of a better life. Like many, circumstance forced me to adapt to a culture very different from my own. Such a move required courage and determination, and I lacked both at the start. Strange sights and sounds overwhelmed me. I longed to go back home, sure that I could never be happy here. Time proved me wrong and I adjusted to Canadian society with relative ease, building a good life among people who accepted me as one of their own. Even as a child, I recognized that my smooth integration differed markedly from that of other newcomers, particularly those whose ethnicity spoke out in the colour of their skin. I came to understand that the elitism facilitating my assimilation made sure others would remain forever on the outside, no matter how long they might live in their adoptive country.
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Bigotry darkened my childhood from birth. As Protestants in Northern Ireland, my parents charged me to spurn Catholics...they were not our 'kind'. Exposed to Canada’s diverse range of cultural groups, my father's ire was simply re-directed. One day, after listening to a vitriolic tirade about foreigners taking over the country, I reminded him timorously that we were not born here either. My father responded with raised eyebrows and imperialistic indignation, “Why, you cannot compare us to outsiders. After all, we're white..and we're British!” I understood that his specious logic was the only justification needed to vilify real foreigners. Helplessness silenced me, even as I sensed an uncomfortable truth behind the arrogant words. I could not deny that my fair skin and Irish background influenced people to welcome me warmly. My old-world ways matched their preconceived notions and granted me easy access to where others were denied admittance.

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While many emigrants struggled to be understood, my Gaelic lilt guaranteed an instant smile. Given unaccustomed foods like hamburgers and pizza, the fact that I cut them up neatly with a knife and fork made adults beam approval at my manners. I never had to deal with disparaging remarks about what I ate or how the scent of that food lingered on my clothes. Although this high level of acceptance helped me adjust to my altered life, being singled out embarrassed me. I wished only to belong. With haste, I swapped my school blazer for flip-flops and became so fluent in the local vernacular that I looked and sounded exactly like my Canadian playmates. I knew this was not the case for those whose customs were more difficult to merge. Although I abandoned much to fit in, others gave up more for a smaller return.
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I no longer stand silent in the face of exclusion based on stereotyping of any kind. If I measure someone's worth, it will be based on an individual’s contribution to society, not on a race or creed. In conversation, I seek words of tolerance and inclusion, regardless of accent. I am part of a cycle greater than my own life. This planet is my home and every inhabitant on it my brother or sister, forever linked to me by bonds of responsibility and compassion. I want to hear the stories they tell and embrace the differences that have shaped our diverse lives. Each one of us must reject apathy and actively make this a world wherein mercy and equality are the birthright of all people.

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That change begins with me.

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Ireland's Call

 I am homesick for Ireland today...something in the still morning air is nudging at my soul and urging my thoughts homeward...

In the past, I have shared tales of my childhood in Belfast, and of the Troubles which, with time and terror, tore my much-loved city in half.

But today, only sweetness is calling me back from across the sea, to that small green island whose rolling hills of yore and singular beauty never fail to enchant.

I close my eyes and can smell the meadows hung with mist, hear the waves crashing onto shore...and I give myself over to the true sense of peace that only comes from

being home.

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I have little cause for discontentment...my life

in Canada is a good one...I am blessed with comfort, safety, and the boundless love of family and friends who cherish me as dearly as I cherish them. I am fortunate indeed...

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But some days...this day...the girl who was whisked away through no choice of her own, remembers that other life and yearns to bridge the gap forged wide by a lifetime's separation.

   

Just for today...this girl's heart longs only for its first home...
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I am linking to Theme Thursday's prompt of 'Luck' at the link below, for I am lucky indeed that my heart has found twin homes in both Ireland and Canada!
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http://themethursday.blogspot.com/
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You might also enjoy these previous posts:
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 Irish Belleek China

http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/another-white-wednesday.html
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Irish Linen Tablecloth
http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/my-second-white-wednesday.html
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Camera Critters: Serengeti Lions

For Camera Critters last week, I posted photos of a lumbering animal not always considered beautiful. My fondness for contrast led me to choose this series of shots for today...

for surely, there are few animals as magnificent, graceful and wondrous as the African lion.

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Crossing from Kenya into Tanzania, our drive took us past a tall cluster of rocks where

a young pair of lions basked in the sun-baked afternoon.

The male's youth showed in his short mane that had not yet come into its own, but already he was embracing his role in the pride. Adult males sleep for up to twenty hours a day, leaving the tasks of both childrearing and hunting to the females, rousing themselves only to feed first on the game dragged home to them. 

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Clearly, the pair had fed recently...the male soon dozed off in spite of our truck parked a short distance away with us looking on in fascination.

True to form, the female remained watchful, keeping a careful eye on us even as she scanned the wide open plain around their raised pedestal....her vigilance a guarantee that no threat or possibility would escape notice...

I used my telephoto lens for these shots, since the lions' perch was a distance away. from the rutted road.

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Keeping a distance is paramount. We must always remain mindful to tread carefully and respectfully in this fragile environment which we are priviliged to explore.

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This is their home...has always been their home. We may only peer in briefly from the edges, leaving all as we found it and taking out nothing but memories.

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And the memories are like no other. I write this post on a gray muddy day half a world away from the African continent...yet I need only close my eyes to feel that sultry sun soak into my skin as a young lion's golden head nods ever lower, until at last, he succumbs to sleep...

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I'm linking this to Misty Dawn's wonderful Camera Critters! To see more critters from around the world, check out the link below...

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 http://camera-critters.blogspot.com/

Egyptian Reflections

The Nile River has been the source of life for Egyptians since ancient times. Until the Aswan Dam was built in the nineteen-sixties, only four per cent of Egypt was cultivated. More of the land has since been reclaimed, but now that same dam holds back the rich silt that fed the land for centuries, and farmers must use fertilizers they can ill afford to buy

A great many of the country’s inhabitants live and work on the narrow strip of fertile land on either side of this river that flows four thousand miles from its source in East Africa to empty into the Mediterranean Sea.

For these people, life is hard, with few modern amenities, or machines to assist in cultivation. To see how tightly the vast desert presses up against the river, is to understand the fragile nature of their simple lives, carved out from the riverbanks, one small plot at a time.

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Traveling From Aswan to Cairo on the Nile becomes a trip back in time. Life seems little changed from years past. Graceful feluccas glide beside simple fishing boats; children frolic at water’s edge as children always will, and the family animals are at home drinking deeply of these life-giving waters.

It is easy, here, to imagine oneself at another point in time….

Egypt is renowned worldwide for its many ancient monuments, but what impressed me most about the country was the tenacity and ingenuity of its hardy inhabitants who have made their home in this stark and often inhospitable land. I offer them my praise and my admiration…

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I'm linking this post to the wonderful Weekend Reflections meme, hosted admirably by James at Newton Daily Photo. To see reflections from around the world, just click on the link below...

http://newtowndailyphoto.blogspot.com/
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Theme Thursday: African Spaces

This week, Theme Thursday invites us to explore the concept of 'space'.

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Nowhere on earth does the world seem wider than on the African savannah. Golden grasslands stretch as far as the eye can see, flowing seamlessly into big and brilliant skies. 

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At home on these open spaces, animals roam freely…hampered only by the measured interruptions of those of us who ache to catch just a glimpse of the singular beauty to be found in that wildness.

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On safari in East Africa, I've sat mute with awe as lions prowled steathily in the grass nearby,

and watched giraffes lope nervously away if we lingered too long to stare.

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I've laughed aloud as zebras pranced cheerfully ahead of us on the rutted trails, stopping  as if to to wait when we paused to let them get ahead.

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 And I've simply marvelled at the glorious cheetahs who watched us curiously as we pointed our cameras their way.

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This is a place like no other, where space and time converge in nature's ageless harmony.

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 It is my fervent hope that the animals of the world will always have their wild places...that mankind's often greedy and thoughtless pursuits do not irrevocably encroach on their worlds, for surely, to destroy these precious habitats would mean the ruin of our humanity...

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For more about the spaces of our universe, check out the great link below...

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http://themethursday.blogspot.com/

Signs, Signs: Danger!

My mother always said there was not an ounce of sense in my entire body!

If you’ve read earlier posts, you might know that I sometimes act before I think.

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I was therefore dismayed at the Cliffs of Moher in the west of Ireland, to have choice snatched out of my hands, forcing me to be wise in spite of myself. I’d waited a long time to see these cliffs, eagerly anticipating going close to the edge and peering over, as I’d done with cliffs as a child.

My adventuresome spirit never stood

a chance!

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Sturdy slate barriers edged the walkways and multiple signs warned of danger at every turn.

I itched to climb over the barriers in spite of this sign.....

though I would never dream of disturbing a bird's nest!

And had I made it to the edge, I would have been very careful not to let this happen!

In the end, I let common sense prevail.

My mum would have been so proud of me....

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I'm linking this post to the wonderful meme, Signs, Signs, hosted by Lesley. To see more signs from around the world, check out the link below...

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http://signs2.blogspot.com/

Window Views in Belfast

Because Mary was unable to access her computer for last week's Window Views, I'm reposting this piece to link with her this week...

I have previously  posted photos of the brightly painted doors, colourful signs and wonderfully ornate windows to be found in Northern Ireland.

But most of you will know the other side of this picture...the Troubles that pitted citizens against one another, ordinary families on opposite sides of the street who were separated by much more than mere pavement....

On  a recent trip home to my birth city, I saw reminders of those troubled times everywhere. The Peace Line that divides the city still stands...barriers and barbed wire circle buildings long out of use, and progress seems stilled in its tracks.

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It saddened me immeasurably to photograph this proof of a time when hatred won out over reason.

 

Yet we Irish are nothing if not resilient.

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Overshadowing the ruins are signs of new beginnings. Reason rules once more...and slowly, but inexorably, we edge ever closer to being united through our love of the homeland that lives in each of our hearts.

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I'm linking this post to ' Window Views...and doors too', a wonderful meme hosted by the very gracious Mary.

Do stop by the link below to see windows and doors from many corners of the world!

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http://windowviews2.blogspot.com/

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You may be interested in these previous Irish posts:

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http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/07/immigrant-experience.html
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http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/08/city-divided.html

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http://imaginationlane.blogspot.com/2010/07/young-of-belfast.html

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Microfiction Monday: Ancestors

Each week, Susan at Stony River posts a photo she's chosen, then invites us to weave a tale around this photo using 140 characters or fewer.

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My entry for today comes in at exactly 140 characters...

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Moving forward, we look back -

to meet the road ahead,

we ponder whence we came.

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On the path of our lives,

none walk alone -

other steps brought us here,

so too they lead us on

For more of Microfiction Monday, do visit the link below...there is much good reading to be found there!

http://www.stonyriver.ie/