We are all Gaza

Picture courtesy of Mosaics

Aref Dalila is freed

About bloody time!...

Speechless...

A great man passed away today...
A scholar of the highest standing, and a man of principle, great integrity, and endless charm, Dr Shaker Faham will be deeply missed, not only by his family and numerous, numerous friends, but also by the educational establishment across the Arab World, particularly by Arabic Language scholars.
May God take you into His mercy, Ammo Shaker.

A Syrian Hakeem in Britain - A Declaration of Intentions

My friend Abu Kareem has recently published an interesting post, talking about his experiences as a Foreign Medical Graduate..

Reading what Abu Kareem had written made me think of my own experiences, as a Syrian Hakeem in Britain.. and I thought I will write a post about those experiences..

However, I quickly realised that these experiences are, in a large part, the product of interaction between what I faced in Britain, and a lifetime of previous experiences and events... To write just about my time in the UK would not give the full picture..

So, I am embarking on what may prove to be quite a monumental project.... an attempt to chart a course through my career in Medicine so far...

But you will have to humour me.. This is going to take some time, a commodity that I do not have in abundance...

I will be back soon.. with a post, possibly the first of several posts, about a Syrian Hakeem in Britain...

Ransom Paid!...

Free!.. I am free, at last!...
Yes!..
A few months ago, I made up my mind.. I decided that I no longer want to be held at ransom..
I decided that I will pay the £ 3,000, in return for my freedom to visit MY country..
And yesterday, I got my Military Service Book from home.. and Lo and Behold.. it is all there.. It is now official.. My file has been closed...

Now, there is no stopping me!..

The Price of Subbornness.. Who's Paying ?..

In my daily scanning of the blogosphere, I invariably make a pause at my friend Abu Kareem's blog, The Levantine Dreamhouse.. For me, his passionate views, his immensely well-informed arguments, his robust and deep-rooted beliefs, are a source of inspiration and a focus of admiration..
His latest offering is no exception..
I wanted to leave a comment, but realised that I was writing too much!.. I did not want to abuse his hospitality, so I decided to put my views on his post in a separate post of my own...
Abu Kareem, with his notable courage, tried to tackle a very difficult concept.. Can a leader commit his people to a battle they cannot win?.. Should a leader pursue a venture that will bring death and destruction to his people, in the name of honour and dignity?.. Are 'principles' more important than people?.. The corollary to that question is, of course, 'whose principles?!'...
Most reasonable people would agree with the right of self-defense.. and most should accept that it applies to both parties in any dispute.
Most reasonable people would agree that it is the duty of a patriotic leader to stand up to the enemies of his Nation, and to uphold and defend its sovereignty..
However, I believe that a wise and compassionate leader will have the protection of his people as his first and foremost aim..
A wise and compassionate leader will weigh the pros and cons of his actions, in terms of what miseries they will bring and what relief they provide.. Lashing out haphazardly at a vastly superior enemy will not be in the interest of the People, as the response is likely to be disproportionate...
A wise and compassionate leader will, if he has to, work WITH his arch enemies to protect his people, until he can learn to defeat those enemies.. I am fully aware of the argument that cites Abbas's work with the Israelis as a demonstration of the failure of such strategy.. and I accept that, at face value, this example is a case against my argument.. However, I believe that the fault with this example lies in that it starts from the premise that Abbas is working for the interest of the Palestinian People, a statement I strongly disagree with.. Therefore, I do not accept this example in the first place..
A wise and compassionate leader will work with his people, all his people, to defeat their mutual enemy.. Both Hamas and Fatah are guilty of driving a wedge through the midst of the Palestinian masses.. Neither has the legitimacy to speak for the People, because each have their own hidden macabre agenda..
A wise and compassionate leader will know when to fight and when to sit back and wait.. Clearly, Hamas lack this insight.. They continue to provide Israel with excuse after excuse, in case Israel needed any, to pummel Gaza with more firepower, and inflict more misery on its besieged population..
Our modern history is awash with 'leaders' who could only see as far as their noses.. leaders whose own delusions of grandeur enticed them to take their People to the brink of the abyss.. and often beyond.. leaders whose people have paid a very high price for the leader's lack of insight, treason, stubbornness, or sheer stupidity.. leaders who are more than willing to send millions of their people to certain death, as long as they themselves are safe from harm...
Neither Hamas nor Fatah is a wise and compassionate leader...
Hamas and Fatah care only for their own interests..
And the wretched people.. the helpless children.. the unarmed men and women.. pay the price for the stubbornness and lack of foresight of their leaders...

Formative Social Training... or Misspent Youth?..

My 'Old Mate' Abu Fares decided to 'tag' me.. (Well, he implicitly claims that he did it because he was required to, as one of the conditions of a tag he had received himself.. I actually believe he drew much joy from putting me on the spot!... but that's another story altogether..) The 'tag' sounded simple enough, but the old cynic in me knew that these things are always more complex than they first seem...

All I had to do was to list 'Six Things One Should Do Before 18'... but there are some rules for this game:

1. Post these rules before presenting your list.

2. List 6 actions or achievements you think every person should accomplish before turning 18.

3. There are no conditions on what can be included on the list.

4. At the end of your blog, choose 6, or less, people to get tagged and list their names.

5. People who are tagged write their own blog entry with their 6 suggestions.

6. Don’t forget to leave them a comment telling them they’re tagged.

The first problem, of course, was that, now that I am on the wrong side of 50, being 18 is a vague and distant memory for me.. not to mention that being 18 then was totally different from being 18 now..

The next problem was that my 'Old Mate' Abu Fares used all the good answers, and now I have to come up with something really original.. Mind you, there is nothing in the rules above that says you cannot reuse items from someone else's list...

Another problem is.. How do I list certain things, without confirming that I myself have done them?.. How do I get away from incriminating myself?.. So, for that purpose, let me make it absolutely clear from the outset, that what I write here is entirely theoretical, and not at all based on personal experiences.. and that any similarities between what I write and real life (MY real life, that is..) are purely coincidental.. OK?.. (Does that sound convincing enough?.. No?..)

So, with all that in mind, I hereby list my choice of 'Six Things One Should Do Before 18' ...

First, I believe that every person, man or woman, should fall in love before they reach the age of maturity (if you can call being 18 'mature'..).. be it with your teacher, your best mate's sister, or with the girl next door.. That exquisite feeling of being totally besotted.. totally consumed.. can only be understood if experienced.. Perhaps I should rephrase that opening statement.. perhaps I should say that everyone must experience the feeling of believing they are in love... because, more often than not, we soon 'discover' that the person we have 'fallen in love with' hasn't even noticed that we ever existed.. and what a blow that is to a young, tender heart.. You might feel that your life is about to end right there and then.. you might be unable to envisage a future without your lost love.. you might vow not to fall in love ever again.. but sure enough, you move on and you do fall in love again, but this time it will be for real, and it will be returned, and what's more, it will be absolute heaven... then, and perhaps only then, you can look back at your first experience of love, and smile...

Second, I think everyone should experience having a 'soul mate' before they reach 18.. Friendships forged in childhood are pure and selfless.. they are devoid of any ulterior motives.. and when you grow up, these childhood friendships can become the cornerstone of your being, and the rock of your stability.. Although my adolescence soul mate lives in Damascus (having been to the US for several years and gone back home), we are in constant contact, and we, I believe, contribute to each other's sanity and resilience..

Third, everybody should go through a phase of rebellion before they get to that landmark of their life.. Everyone must become a rebel for a while before they get to 18.. The passion and fervour that come with being a rebel will live with you forever, even after the rebellion itself subsides.. If you manage to ignite a flame of enthusiasm for a cause, any cause, in your youth, you are more likely to be able to find the energy and the stubbornness that you will invariably need when you have to face up to those demons that you will come across in your life-long battles...

Fourth, everybody must have a 'serious' hobby before we reach 18.. In fact, I think you must go through several hobbies during your formative years.. Once again, it is the passion and commitment that you develop when you are so serious about an activity, whatever it is, that I value so much.. Whether that hobby is a sporting one, an artistic one, or an utterly eccentric one, it matters not.. It is the passion.. the commitment.. the belief that you have a skill or a knowledge that no-one else possesses... Most of us outgrow our 'silly' hobbies, but the values that we amassed from practising those hobbies will stay with us forever.. I had a number of hobbies that have evolved and changed over the years.. I am not quite sure what I learnt from collecting drink bottle tops, but from stamp collecting as a child, I learned the value of history, the passion for the classic, and a deep sense of belonging.. from swimming and sports as a youth, I learned the importance of hard work and perseverance.. from photography, the value of observation, and the beauty of viewing matters from an unusual and different perspective.. and from reading, I learned, and continue to learn, most of what I know today...

Fifth, every self-respecting 18-year-old must be able to boast having broken a bone at some point in his or her earlier years... (OK, a bad sprain would be an acceptable alternative!..) Encountering pain is a very humbling experience, albeit a very unpleasant one!.. As youths, we might think we are invulnerable and indestructible.. Experiencing what will hopefully be a temporary incapacity will help us recognize our vulnerabilities and limitations, and allow us to empathize with those who are unfortunate enough to have permanent disabilities or long-lasting pain.. When I was 13, I broke a bone in my foot while playing football (I kicked the goalpost instead of the football!..).. It took me a couple of days to pluck up the courage to tell my dad, and several further days to convince him (a surgeon of some 20 years' experience at the time!..) that there was something wrong, and that I was not simply a whingeing wimp!.. I felt vindicated when the x-ray showed a fracture, but the smug smile was wiped off my face when I realized that I have to have a plaster cast for four weeks, during which I cannot wear proper shoes, or proper trousers.. I needed help with bathing, and could only walk, very slowly, with a stick!.. The experience certainly taught me a lot about myself, and made me look at the disabled with a sense of respect and admiration for their ability to face up to their misfortunes..

Finally, I think that, by the age of 18, everyone must have an idea (vague as it may be) about their general direction in life.. By that time in your life, you must have formed a general plan of where you are going.. otherwise, you are at risk of wandering aimlessly through life.. and a decade or two later, you suddenly realize that you are still wandering aimlessly through life!.. I am not suggesting that you should have made life-long commitments by that age.. far from it.. What I am saying is that you must have an aim by that stage.. a purpose.. a target.. You may (and most probably, you will) soon change it, and set your sight elsewhere, but if you do not have some sort of a plan at that point in your life, you (and probably those around you) are in for a bumpy ride!...

So, there you go, Abu Fares.. I do hope that my answers satisfy the conditions of the tag.. More importantly, I do hope that you would allow me special dispensation, and waive the requirement of tagging six other unsuspecting victims.. I have but few friends on the blogosphere, and I do not want to scare them away!..

Addendum: Is it too late to change my mind about tagging someone?.. I would like to tag Lujayn and Syrian in London...

The Greenhouse

One of the nicest feelings one can experience is seeing the fruit of one's hard work...

Early last summer, some friends of ours decided to emigrate back to their home Country, Egypt, and they put their house on the market.

In their garden, they had a small, but rather pretty greenhouse, and my wife has always admired its elegant shape and understated appearance.. So, before they sell the house, we asked them if we could buy the greenhouse, but they insisted that we can simply 'have it'.. and despite all our insistence, they totally refused to accept any payment...

So, one Friday afternoon in June, I rented a small van, drove all the way to Burton-on-Trent where they lived, and spent a few hours carefully dismantling the delicate glass and hard wood structure.. Eventually, I managed to load all the bits and pieces in the van, and drove back home.. It was nearly dawn break before I got home..

Due to the bad weather we had most of the summer, and because I had so many other commitments at the time, my plans to build the greenhouse were put on the back-burner for a while...

When I returned from my trip to Damascus, I thought I'd better start with my little project.. First of all, I had to choose a spot in the garden.. and I found the ideal place: a sunny spot close to the vegetable patch, away from the large trees.. (Well.. in our garden, you can never get completely away from the large trees.. We have some 35 of them, some are over 80 years old!..)..

So, armed with my iPod...

...and a few basic tools...


.. I started to work..

I carefully measured and marked the area I had chosen..

and started digging the soil up..

...until I ended up with a big hole!..

Then, having ordered the chippings, the sand, and the flagstones in advance, I laid the edging blocks, and began filling the hole with one-and-a-half tonne of stone chippings, then one-tonne of sand..

Then, after firmly compacting the base, I laid the flagstones.. It took a whole weekend to do all that, but the result was quite pleasing..

The spot I had chosen was on an incline, so before I could erect the greenhouse, I had to build a new base to compensate for the gradient.. otherwise, the greenhouse would come up lopsided!.. Now that was not as easy a task as I thought.. Plenty of thought and planning went into it, and numerous measurements and calculations were needed.. laser pointers and multi-directional spirit levels were used to ensure that the base ended up absolutely level...

Then, it was time to face the most hateful task.. Before I could re-assemble the greenhouse, I need to CLEAN it!.. And, boy, was it filthy!!.. All the glass and wooden panels were covered with moss, dust, cobwebs, and God-Almighty gunge!!..

Each had to be individually scrubbed clean before I could even think of fitting them back together...

So, after several hours of cleaning and scrubbing, the panels were ready to be assembled..

I was a bit concerned that I might need another pair of hands to do it.. I could have easily recruited the help of a good friend of mine, but it would have meant waiting until both of us are free, and hoping that it would coincide with decent weather!!.. So, I thought I'd take my chances..


I had to wait for a spell of good weather.. I did not want to battle against the elements with no help!.. So, one sunny Saturday, I set about putting the structure together.. It did not take me long to get going, and within a few hours of steady, sustaied effort, the main frame of the greenhouse was erect, and I went on to assemble the roof.. Not wanting to waste the rare opportunity of the good weather, I carried on well after dark, and had to resort to using floodlights to iluminate the area...

It was after midnight before I finally stopped!.. After a hot shower, I collapsed in a heap, completely exhausted.. That night, I slept like I had not slept in ages!...

Next morning, I gave the woodwork a coat of paint.. White on the outside, and dark green on the inside (my wife's instructions, of course..).. Then, I fitted the worktops and shelves, and the roof was ready to be lifted on top of the frame.. But that I could not do on my own.. Well, you know the saying: 'The impossible: we do immedaitely. Miracles might take a short while!...'

So, I had to wait a couple of weeks until my son and daughter came home one weekend, and with their help, and with a few adjustments, the roof went on, and the structure was complete.. As a matter of fact, we had to do it in driving rain, simply because it would be several weeks before I can have them both at home again, with no guarantee that the weather would be any better, anyway..

In fact, in one stormy night, one of the sliding door panels was blown off while it was leaning against the wall, and the glass pane was shaterred..

It was not a major problem.. It took a quick trip to the local glazier and glass merchant, followed by a few minutes of work, and the panel was as good as new..

So, the Greenhouse is now up.. It's not big, but it is quite pretty.. Well, I think it is, anyway..

It took me nearly five months to finish it, but hey, it was a solo effort.. well, almost!.. Just think Michaelangelo and the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel!.. It took him four whole years to do it.. OK, his masterpiece was a little bit more elaborate than mine, but you get the picture!...

So, now the ball, as the saying goes, is in my court... It is up to me to ensure that the Greenhouse is used effectively.. Time and other commitments permitting, I will soon have it full of young plants, tender home-grown vegetables, and beautiful brightly-coloured flowers..

And when that happens, I will be back with some more pictures...

Memories of Dark Days...

I am not really an avid fan of television.. I never was.. Nowadays, I only tend to watch the odd documentary, some interesting factual programme, or the (very) occasional movie..

Nonetheless, there was a particular drama that I have recently followed closely.. I did not get the opportunity to see the programme when it was first aired during Ramadan. Instead, I managed to catch the repeat, which has just ended..

Very few programmes have ever affected me like this one has.. very few have touched the innermost corners of my soul like this one has.. very few have ever forced me to travel back into those dark, haunted alleys of my memory, in the same manner that this particular one has..

'Messages of Love and War' is a powerful piece of drama, with excellent performances from most, if not all, of its characters.. from Abu Dhirar, the psychopathic, all-powerful, deviously-plotting army officer, so ably depicted by Salloum Haddad, to the pathetic, feeble drunken Fares, impressively portrayed by Rami Hanna.. Even the most minor and insignificant characters were so carefully cast and exquisitely performed..


But, as you might have guessed from the first paragraph, I am not here to write a critique of the show..

Apart from being a very power piece of work, 'Messages of Love and War' had, on me personally, a much more profound effect than that.. It jolted me back towards times I thought I had managed to bury in the deepest, most inaccessible recesses of my mind.. It evoked past experiences, so painful that I never wanted to recount them ever again.. It breathed life back into demons I thought were dead.. Long dead... But, boy, did they come flooding back!..

It took me back to Beirut during those dark, horrific days of the Israeli invasion of 1982.. Arguably the darkest period in Beirut's living memory, it was a period that, as much as I wished I had forgotten, as much as I realize now that I never will... The darkest few weeks in the City's turbulent history were depicted in a few episodes of this drama series, but the effect on me long outlasted those episodes.. In fact, that effect will, undoubtedly, stay with me for much longer than I would wish it to.. I very much suspect that these demons will continue to haunt me for a long, long time..

It brought back, so vividly, the incredibly tense atmosphere during the weeks leading to the invasion.. the sense that something truly horrid was about to befall the City and its people.. the sense of resignation that the invasion was inevitable.. the deep-seated belief that it was just a matter of 'when', rather than 'if'..

Then, when the invading Israeli army started moving into South Lebanon, that sense of uneasy anticipation was replaced by a subtle sense of wishful thinking, that, perhaps, it was going to be a limited campaign, with limited aims and targets.. It did not take long for most of us to realize that the Israelis had a different agenda...

And when the Israeli army laid siege over the City, fear and desperation replaced all senses and emotions.. Power and water supplies were cut off.. The stifling Beirut summer compounded the sense of doom.. For 71 long, hot, suffocating days, West Beirut was under fire from land, air and sea.. Repeated calls for a cease-fire were met by the American veto, because a cease-fire at that point in time, claimed the infamous Jeane Kirkpatrick (the US Ambassador to the UN), 'would not serve the purpose of long-lasting peace'... Yeah, right!... and watching the City and its inhabitants burn in Hell would!..

Then, the terms for a cease-fire were agreed, and the PLO fighters were evacuated from the City.. With the City deprived of any measure of defense, that old sense of unease returned.. Sabra and Chatila massacres on September 16th 1982, followed, very quickly, the assassination of Bashir Gemayel, the militia-leader-cum-President-Elect, on September 14th 1982..

The programme also portrayed the oppressive atmosphere that prevailed in Syria at that time.. the abuses of power.. the perversion of truth.. the suppression of descent.. all that was simply too close for comfort, as far as I was concerned... It was all too real for me.. too raw.. too painful...

I would be in front of the television, watching intently.. then suddenly I would break in cold sweat, when a particular event on the screen brings me in close contact with those beastly memories.. There were moments when I could smell the scent of blood and wounds.. when the smell of burning flesh was so overpowering... moments when I re-lived, so convincingly, some of the most traumatic experiences of my life...

When I first started watching 'Messages of Love and War', I was, naively, hoping that it would help me, once and for all, exorcise the demons of my experiences in '1982 Lebanon'... Instead, it brought those demons back to haunt me...

Come to think of it, the programme was simply a catalyst.. Those ancient scars had never healed in the first place... those demons were never dead.. they were simply sleeping...