We will not go down (Song for Gaza)

For Gaza..
Rime, it is my pleasure to oblige...

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...

In Pursuit of Knowledge?..

What would I give to be young again!...

You may have met my little girl (well.. she is 21, and a graduate student, but she is still my little girl, OK?..).. Some of you have been so kind as to offer her help in the past..
As you may know, she studied World and Popular Music, and did her dissertation on Fairuz.. She is now doing a Masters in Music on the role of female performers in the Levantine (and particularly Syrian) music..
So, as part of her course work, she was asked to do some 'field work'.. She was tasked by her Tutor to go and spend a few weeks in Syria, researching the topic of her Masters project..
Kicking and screaming (yeah, right!..), she 'agreed' to go and spend the Christmas break in Damascus.. The declared aims of the visit: Firstly, to interview a number of music academics, and some performers, both professionals and amateurs, particularly female ones. Secondly, to get some feel, on the ground, of the role of female performers in the current and past musical scene in Syria..
(In actual fact, she was so excited about her trip, she was on 'Cloud 9' way before she boarded the plane ten days ago!..)
She is staying with my parents (and is getting spoiled rotten by them!..). My Mum, and my Dad, as well as several relatives, friends and contacts, have helped her arrange appointments with several eminent music academics, and key musical personalities in the Country.. Even in this short time, she managed to meet the Director of the Opera House in Damascus, as well as two or three musical historians and authors on the topic she is researching.. They have all been extremely helpful and supportive, and have provided her with masses of material, and many, many promises of more help.. She is awaiting some tentative attempts to get her in touch with some of the best-known quality female performers in Syria.. (So tentative are these promises, that I am not going to mention any names, until she does meet them.. then I can brag!..)..
Through sheer persistence and dogged single-mindedness, she managed to defeat the legendary bureaucracy and obtain a Library Card (to access the archives at the Assad Library) in less than an hour.. She was not going to be dissuaded by silly dismissal from some lazy, disinterested minion, who kept saying: 'Come back on the 26th!..'!!.. She just refused to accept 'no' for an answer.. The result: She got the Card, and accessed the Library... She obtained enough material to keep her busy during the Eid Holidays, and she will be back on the trail, once life returns to normality..
I have no doubt that her infectious youthful enthusiasm and endless radiant energy have been instrumental in making people want to help her.. After all, how can anyone refuse a request that has been put forward with such eagerness and zest?.. In fact, one of the academics whom she met was so excited about her project.. He said that, despite his prolific writings, he has never broached the topic she is studying with such depth and breadth.. He, not surprisingly, promised to do all he can to help her, and said that her work has inspired him to write a detailed piece on the subject...
Dana is working very hard to gather the material she needs, documenting everything on a voice recorder and a video camera. She is spending hours transcribing the recordings, referencing the video recordings, and wading through material from library archives, as well as the stuff she had been given by the people she met and interviewed.. Despite all that, she manages to make it sound like so much fun!... With her passion, verve and abundant vigor, she seems to be enjoying every minute of her time, despite all the endless hours of hard work and toil..
I guess that is the gift of youth..
Oh, what would I give to be young again!...

(Photo by SB: Ingleton, Cumbria)

Eid Mubarak

I wish all my cyber-friends and cyber-family members a very Happy Eid Al-Adha..
I wish everyone a very Merry Christmas and a Happy and Prosperous New Year...


(Photo: Flower in my garden..)
P.s. I know it has nothing to do with Eid, Christmas, or the New Year.. I just thought it might add some colour to brighten up your day..

To Rear the Tender Thought...

'Delightful task!
To rear the tender thought..
To teach the young..'

James Thomson, Scottish Poet, 1700-1748

I have, on a number of occasions, talked about my work.. You may remember my recounting the various stories of everyday-life that I encounter.. the momentous event, the tiny unexpected arrival, the chaotic day, or the controlled performance... I would hope that, through these posts, I have managed to convey to the reader how much I really enjoy what I do, and how passionate I am about it..
Mind you, I have not spoken yet about one of the most rewarding activities that I am involved in.. one of the most satisfying, most fulfilling aspects of my varied and diverse work.. the part of my work that I draw a lot of satisfaction from.. and that is teaching and training...
Don't get me wrong.. I do not aim to belittle any of the other activities I am involved in.. Saving a patient's life, reducing someone's suffering, or even simply imparting a few reassuring words to an anxious person, are all immensely rewarding and very worthwhile actions.. If I do any of those on any given day, I would feel fully satisfied and content.. but, somehow, teaching still gives me a sense of fulfillment that is hard to beat.. I guess it is the sense that I am helping shape the careers of these eager young minds, that gives me this feeling of profound contentment.. it is the hope that, by passing on my experiences, I am helping save the life of some future patient, who might need the skills of these young (and not-so-young) doctors, doctors-to-be, nurses, or paramedics..
Teaching in my field can take any of many varied forms.. from didactic classroom teaching, to informal 'shop-floor' teaching and supervision, to practical workshops and simulated scenarios..
Last week, I was teaching on an Advanced Trauma Life Support (ATLS®) Course, which encompasses most of those teaching modalities.. The Course was conceived back in the mid-seventies by an American orthopaedic surgeon who lamented the quality of care he and his family had received at a small hospital in the back of beyond, after his light aircraft crashed in a field in Nebraska. The Course has since developed into a global phenomenon, and is taught in more than 45 countries worldwide.. (However, the Royal College of Surgeons of England is the only institution outside the US, entrusted to run Instructor Courses.. Not a mean achievement, I assure you..)..
Trauma is often called 'the hidden epidemic'.. it kills the young and the active.. the 'typical' victims of trauma are usually the most productive elements in society.. Road crashes alone kill around 3,500 people, mostly young, every year in England and Wales alone.. Considering that 286 were killed in Lockerbie, the above figure represents more than a Lockerbie disaster every single month!... Can you imagine the headlines if a 747 falls out of the skies every month?!... But I digress...
So, back to the Course.. Its aim: to improve the care of trauma victims, and improve their chances of survival, and of returning to a meaningful, productive life.. what the Americans somewhat crudely refer to as 'tax-paying status'!..
It is run over a period of 2½ days.. These are long and tiring days.. tiring for both candidates and instructors alike.. We start at 8am each day, and finish anytime between 7 and 8pm, although we do finish at about 3pm on Day 3..
A series of lectures, punctuated by demonstrations, workshops, skill stations, and simulated patient scenarios, are delivered by a group of dedicated and experienced Instructors, who have been selected for their outstanding performance when they themselves attended the Course as candidates.

Instructors are not only selected for their knowledge and mastery of the subject matter, but also for their ability to communicate, support their fellow-candidates, and demonstrate that elusive ingredient that completes what is instinctively, but rather vaguely, perceived as a 'good teacher'...

A candidate being put through his paces..
(The 'casualty' is actually a Medical Student, made up to look the part!..)

I say 'dedicated', because most of us often end up doing these courses in our own time, and free of charge.. Can you imagine someone from Industry agreeing to give up three days of their own time for less than £2,000 and a five-star treatment?.. I think not!.. So, really, for 'dedicated Instructors', read 'bunch of mugs'!.. but hey, we love it!..
In the short time we spend on these courses, a kind of bond develops amongst the Instructors, as well as between them and the candidates.. We feel that our success as a faculty is reflected in the success of the candidates.. we only feel fulfilled and content if we accomplish our task: the imparting of knowledge.. the transfer of experiences.. and seeing that, come test time on Day 3, our 'trainees' are coping confidently and ably with anything that we throw at them, is worth to each of us a lot more than any payment..
Didn't I tell you we're a bunch of mugs?..

A Little Bite off the Apple...

Finally, I did it..

I have been considering the move to the enigmatic Mac for a year or two.. and, at last, I did it.. A life-long Windows aficionado (and an MS-DOS enthusiast before that..), a few weeks ago, I plucked up the courage to abandon the comfort zone of the all-familiar PC and the relative convenience of Windows, in search of that elusive charm and flare that the Mac promised so persistently...

My first impression was 'Wow!..'.. my second, 'Wow, wee..'.. This is simply so cool.. so intuitive.. so user-friendly.. and so blooming fantastic.. visually as well as functionally... You might say it's a case of 'simple things fascinate simple folks'.. and, boy, am I fascinated!..

I cannot claim that I am already familiar with OS X.. I was just starting to scratch the surface of Tiger (OS X 10.4), when Leopard (OS X 10.5) was launched. I upgraded to it, and I was amazed all over again... It is going to take me a while before I can navigate my way through the maze of OS X before it becomes anywhere near as familiar as Windows has become for me.. but I am in no hurry, and I am enjoying the adventure already...

Oh, well.. I just thought I'd share that with you...

The Only Certainty

On a personal level, the past few weeks have not been particularly good…

Ramadan started with some bad news.. My mother-in-law was taken ill.. She has been struggling with ill health for some time, and, on that occasion, she had a bit of a relapse. After a few worrying days, she improved, and settled back into her usual routine..

Then another bit of bad news.. My uncle (well, he is not exactly my blood uncle, but he is married to my maternal aunt, and is like my Uncle, OK?..), is one of the sharpest minds of his generation.. Without going into too much detail, and without giving too much away, I will only say that he had an illustrious career in education and public service.. Widely loved and respected by everyone who knows him, he is one of the nicest people you can ever wish to meet… He earned national and international acclaim as one of the leading authorities of the Arabic Language, and received the King Faisal International Prize in Arabic Literature.. In other words, he is an intellectual of some standing, and at the ripe old age of 86, he still goes to the office daily, and still works full time… Then one day, he wakes up, and he cannot recognise the pictures of his children.. He can barely recognise his wife.. She asks him to go and shave, but he does not know the meaning of the word ‘shave’… Now, how can a mind so sharp and so alert be reduced to the mental capacity of a 3-year-old overnight?!.. As is the case for my parents, all his children live abroad.. Thankfully, he is already showing signs of improvement, although, sadly, a complete recovery is unlikely…

Then the hardest news of all.. My mother-in-law was taken ill again.. this time, far more severely than any previous occasion.. She fails to improve on home treatment, and is admitted to hospital, then to Intensive Care.. After a brief period of deliberation, my wife decides to go home to be with her mother, and my eldest daughter insists on going with her.. She and Grandma have always had a very special relationship… Most regrettably, I could not go with them, as I have already used up my annual ‘allowance’ to visit home… Two days after their arrival, my mother-in-law passed away this morning.. on the first day of Eid…

Living away from home means that you constantly worry about close family members as they grow more frail and vulnerable.. You feel immense guilt for not being with your parents when they need you most.. You feel helpless and impotent when you find out that they are not well.. You question your life-long convictions.. You wonder about the validity of that decision you made when decided to make a life abroad..

You might argue that the ‘decision’ is not always yours.. that the ‘decision’ is sometimes made for you, and more or less, forced upon you.. You can try and find mitigating circumstances.. You can try and justify your absence by telling yourself that you do it for your children.. or for peace of mind.. or for stability and security.. or for professional fulfilment.. Sound and legitimate as your argument might be, it does not make the pain any less intense, or the guilt any less profound...

No matter how expected, when death of a loved one comes, it strikes without mercy.. No matter how expected, it is always painful.. even when death means deliverance from pain or suffering, it is still very hard on those left behind.. because with life, there is hope.. one keeps hoping against all the odds, that something can be done to avert that inevitable fate.. but death is so final.. so absolute.. so irreversible…

Death, it seems, is the only certainty in Life...

(Picture: Painting by Asmaa Fayyoumi, Syrian Artist)

How Many More???...

'Collateral Damage???...

Welcome Back, Darling..

Just in case you're wondering why I am walking around with a big smile on my face.. well, it's because my wife has just returned from Damascus..

She and the twins stayed behind, and they returned yesterday...

Got to go.. so much to catch up on..

An Unstoppable Juggernaut.. or a Frightened Little Mouse?..

The juggernaut of tyranny continues its wretched march.. crushing everything that comes in its way..

In every part of the Middle East, freedom of thought, and freedom of expression, are being trampled upon by Regimes that seem to have developed a growing sense of invincibility..

Yazan, in his intelligent and very interesting blog, reminds us all, with dogged determination and unrelenting perseverance that puts us all to shame, of the plight of those brave souls, who are suffering the heavy tread of the oppressive, barbaric boot of these tyrannical regimes...

Here's what Yazan had to say...

Freedom of Speech, Massacred and dragged through the streets of the Middle East

What is happening in the Arab World is scary.

Reading this, made me go into real melancholy.

And the fact that there was absolutely no publicity about it makes it even more painful. Why do we have to be so selective in what we chose to fight for. Why was Kareem on almost every single blog, all through his trial, and sentence. While I struggled to find any mention of Mohamed Rashed al-Shohhi's case. And was it not for Amira slipping me a link to this small roundup from Sami Ben Gharbia on GlobalVoices I would not have even heard about it.

While Egyptian blogger Kareem was on trial because of things he chose to write, Mohamed is sentenced to 1 year in prison and $13,600 fine for an anonymous comment on an online forum he happened to run. [You think there might be a connection with the decision to ban comments on Syrian sites earlier this month?! Hmmm...].

Mohamed is in prison, and he literally did not do ANYTHING.

It is not a blow at freedom of speech. No, this a serious well-planned decision that can only be described as mental-terrorism. This is not aimed to keep him from practicing his right to express himself (Again, the guy did not do anything), rather this is a warning to anyone who might even think of raising a voice. Whether against totalitarianism, corruption or repression... all of them are a common characteristic of our Arab World.

Again, in a very similar case, Kuwaiti blogger Bashar Al-Sayegh was arrested [He was released today] yesterday for an anonymous comment left on his forum.

If you read this, please help spread the word. Let's not be selective in what we chose to rally for.

The latest chunk of news coming from our Middle East does not look good.

Blogspot is still banned in Syria, contrary to earlier reports about the ban being lifted.

By decision from the Ministry of Communication, anonymous comments of Syrian sites are now illegal.

Wordpress is banned in Turkey.UAE imprisons a webmaster and suspends the website over anonymous comments on his forum.

Kuwait detains a blogger over anonymous comments on his forum.

And, Egypt, Tunisia... Where to start exactly?!

By Yazan Bardan

While Yazan talks about the Middle East as a whole, I believe that the excesses of the Syrian Regime deserve a special mention.. Their vindictiveness seems to know no bounds, and here's an example..

Riad Seif is a former independent Member of the People's Assembly (a pathetic and impotent institution, supposedly functioning as a Parliment) is a vocal opponent of the Regime. He has only recently been released from prison. His release only came after mounting pressure form Amnesty International and other Human Rights oraganizations, that have persisted to highlight the plight of Mr. Seif and his fellow Prisoners of Conscience. Of particular concern was his ill health, which was certainly not helped by his repeated imprisonment.

Even after his release from prison, Mr. Seif does not seem to escape the harsh and vindictive whims of the Syrian Regime. Mr. Seif has recently been diagnosed with prostatic cancer, and wanted to travel abroad for treatment, but his application was rejected. Here is an English translation of a statement that Mr. Seif has produced recently (Thank you, Maureen!..): (Regrettably, I do not have the original Arabic text. Help, anyone?..)

Riad Seif: A statement to the public regarding the prevention of my travel for medical treatment

More than two months after medical examinations and tests established that I have an advanced stage of prostate cancer, and after ascertaining that the necessary and viable treatment for such a situation is not available in Syria while it is available in some developed countries with the possibility of successful treatment as high as 90%, I submitted a request to travel for treatment outside the country to the Syrian authorities. So far, all of my attempts have failed and I have received nothing from the security authorities but delays and postponements, despite the advanced stage of the disease and fears that it might metastasize to other parts of my body.

I was subjected to a similar ordeal previously during my time in prison, when the coronary angiogram I had on 2/7/2005 showed an occlusion of the left anterior descending coronary artery, which required open-heart surgery to bypass the occlusion. After I was released on 1/18/2006, I filed a request to leave the country so that I could conduct the necessary surgical work, but this request was also denied.

Now that I have run out of options, I can find no alternative but to present my state of health to all those who are interested in human rights issues in Syria and in the world, with the hope that I will procure assistance in obtaining my natural and legitimate right to receive necessary treatment abroad that could let me spend the rest of my life in a natural way.


Damascus 13/8/2007

One has to wonder.. Why would an all-powerful Regime who proclaims unwavering public support, and an eternal and perpetual right to rule unchallenged, pursue and bully these individuals?.. To my simple mind, there is an obvious reason why the Regime continues with its relentless campaign against those who oppose it.. It is because the Regime, despite its might and its apparent invincibility, fears those brave and intelligent voices.. The Regime is scared of these individuals and of their actions.. the ripples caused by their activities threaten to shake the very foundation of this rotten and corrupt Regime..

Perhaps, after all, that juggernaut of tyranny is no more than a frightened little mouse..

Two-weeks' worth of memories...

All good things come to an end. Good holidays are no exception..

I flew back from Damascus on Tuesday, August 7th, but this is the first time I get a real opportunity to sit down and write about my two-week trip.

I went back to work on Thursday to find 172 e-mails, and a pile of letters half-way up to the ceiling.. all waiting for me to read and respond to.

The weekend came and went like a flash.. On Sunday, I had a 15-hour journey to the Capital.. four-hour drive to London, five-hour meeting, then a six-hour drive back up to Lancashire. I am sure you can forgive me for not being able to write anything yet.

But that's all behind me. I am now sitting trying to get my thoughts together even if it is half past midnight..

Let me start by saying that we had the most awesome time. My brother and sister came over from the US, and my parents were simply overjoyed to see us all. We celebrated my twins' 21st Birthday while we were there, and we decided to celebrate Mum's seventieth Birthday since we were all gathered together.. even though it was a couple of months too soon!.. We went to countless dinners and lunches and feasts and gatherings.. and each left us with such delightful memories.. We so wished that we had the time to see more people.. more friends, old and new.. In fact, one thing I truly regret was that we could not accept Abu Fares's invitation to visit him in Tartous.. but, alas, time was very limited..

Nevertheless, my children managed to squeeze in a two-day trip to Petra with my sister and her family, and they absolutely loved it... (I couldn’t go.. I am only allowed a single entry to Syria every year)..

The girls had a wonderful time (as they always do) exploring the Old City, with its bazaars, souks, and delightful little shops..

They went to the Grand Umayyad Mosque, admiring its grandeur and beauty..

Like an annual pilgrimage, they walked through the alleys and narrow streets of the Old City.. getting lost, but quickly finding their way when they see a familiar shop or some other landmark..

I could easily bore you with a blow-by-blow account of my two weeks in Damascus.. However, I thought it would probably be better to talk about a few things that caught my attention..

As I said in my earlier post, Damascus never fails to amaze me with how much things can change.. I should say, however, that no matter how much things change, they still seem to remain the same!..

Undoubtedly, some of the changes are simply a natural progression of what things were two years ago. However, there are some obvious developments that I have noticed for the first time..

Our flight to Damascus was uneventful.. We travelled by SyrianAir. We knew in advance that the service is not exactly Five-Star!.. Nevertheless, it certainly has a very distinct advantage: it is the only airline that operates direct flights from Manchester to Damascus.. It will get us home in four-and-a-half hours, and no-one can beat that!..

Within 45 minutes from arrival, we were on our way towards the City. Soon afterwards, we were snaking our way through the legendary Damascus traffic. That is always the first thing you notice.. It has gone significantly worse since I have been there last time. My brother-in-law blamed the increase in car imports, and the lack of any new projects to ease the congestion in the Capital.. Clearly, this is a universal problem.. Driving through London two days ago, even though it was a Sunday, was certainly no picnic!.. Nevertheless, driving in Damascus is not for the faint-hearted.. It is a death-wish.. It's everybody to himself in that jungle!.. Mind you, walking in Damascus is almost just as fraught!.. One afternoon, my wife, my daughter, and I thought we'd go for a walk into town!.. What a silly idea!.. All the sidewalks and footpaths are occupied by parked cars, and you end up being forced to walk in the middle of the street, risking life and limb in the process!.. However, apart from the shear volume of traffic, and the way people drive, one thing that really amazed me in Damascus was how drivers totally ignore the poor traffic policemen!..

I was struck by how many people smoke in Damascus.. It is a filthy habit that seems to traverse social divides and seems to afflict every level of Society.. I found it difficult to understand how people, especially the young and the affluent, still equate smoking with being suave and sophisticated... People smoke anytime and anywhere.. in cars, in offices, in restaurants.. before food, with food, after food.. with coffee, with tea, or with a glass of arak or whiskey.. They smoke when angry, and they smoke when happy.. when anxious, or when relaxed.. I particularly found the proliferation of the trend to smoke argheeleh in restaurants quite disturbing, especially with the number of young people getting hooked..

On one of our excursions around the City, a friend of mine pointed out the open-air market known as 'Souk el-7haramieh' , where 'second-hand' goods are bought and sold openly.. (for 'second-hand', read 'stolen').. Now I ask you, how many cities around the World can boast having a whole market known as The Thieves' Market?!...

There are clear signs of 'new money' in Town.. The abundance of smart shops selling designer goods.. the flashy new cars.. the imposing hotels and towering plush office buildings.. the large bright new Shopping Malls.. the countless vast restaurants that are ALWAYS full to the rim!.. (Isn't it amazing how all activities, social, commercial, and even political, in Damascus revolve around eating?..). However, one cannot help but wonder whether this apparent 'affluence' is true, or is it just a thin veneer, camouflaging a very ugly truth of masked unemployment, abject poverty, and an insatiable need to show off..

Speaking of large shiny Shopping Malls, we went for a snack in a café at the new Sham Centre.. How impressive!.. Spotlessly clean, with uniformed staff constantly going round ensuring cleanliness.. Beautiful shops, with many selling very expensive designer goods.. Palm trees, and smart cafés.. It is noteworthy, however, that while the walkways and passages of the Mall were very busy, the shops were not!.. In some shops, shop assistants vastly outnumbered the shoppers!.. Nevertheless, I found it very interesting that this was the only place I came across that has a 'No Smoking' policy.. Now, I think this is very encouraging.. Mind you, with some disappointment, I note that amongst all those smart and elegant shops, there was not a single bookshop.. I wonder what does that say about us as a community?..

There was one particular change that truly shocked me.. I simply could not get over the re‑emergence of the personality worship.. and it was so 'in-your-face'.. The omnipresence of the President.. everywhere you look. Larger-than-life images of his smiling face, the shepherd overlooking his flock, reassuring them that he is there to stay, and they'd better get used to it!.. I must say, I found it quite nauseating how some slogans were written in, allegedly, colloquial terms, seeming to suggest spontaneity and truthfulness!...

Another aspect that really saddened me was the sense of resignation amongst the intellectual elite.. Those who once were the focus of our hopes and ambitions have turned into a bunch demoralised, disenfranchised, and disaffected individuals.. The spark has gone off from their eyes.. the flames of their passion and enthusiasm has been cruelly snuffed out…

You will not be surprised to know that corruption is alive and well.. and thriving!.. It has now reached areas that were previously thought to be protected.. A well-connected friend of mine recounted a story about some controversial, highly-experimental treatments for a rare and uncommon condition, being approved for trials by the Ministry of Health in the name of encouraging ‘international research activities’, in return for substantial backhanders from drug companies for Ministry officials.. and when my friend requested funding to purchase some essential, well-proven, but expensive, life-saving treatment (for Hepatitis B, which is rampant in the Country) for a Government hospital he works for, he was shrugged off, and his request rejected for lack of funds… Mmmm.. Quite a worrying development, don’t you think?..

I went to the National Museum in Damascus with my three children.. I have not been there since I was a schoolboy in shorts!.. On the one hand, I was delighted and very impressed by the richness of the displays and the immense historical value of the treasures contained in it.. On the other hand, I was distressed and deeply upset by the state of neglect some of these treasures were in.. Some displays have been removed by members of Staff, and a small, hand‑written ‘Post-it’ note left behind to state the whereabouts of some invaluable, irreplaceable piece of history!.. Notes like ‘On loan to the Curator’s Display’.. or ‘Loaned to such-and-such Museum’.. I wonder how many of these ‘on loan’ artefacts find their way back to their display cabinets!… My daughter noted that various items were described wrongly, while others had no description whatsoever.. She was incensed by the fact that information written in Arabic contradicted what was written in English, and, rightly, felt that this showed complete disrespect to the artefacts, as well as to the visitors’ intelligence!..

Amongst those I met in Damascus, there was an overwhelming sense of ‘something big is about to happen’… People were apprehensively anticipating some cataclysmic event that will change the shape of the Region.. Some people were absolutely adamant that war with Israel was both imminent and inevitable. They cite the alleged increasing intransigence and isolation of the emboldened Regime, as well as rumoured purchases of arms (including possible nuclear warheads) from some relics of the former USSR, bought in the aftermath of the break-up of the Soviet Union.. Proponent of this theory assure you that you should not be deceived by the apparent state of disarray in the Syrian Army.. they talk of elite troops, trained to highest standards, and equipped with the most up-to-date arsenal.. To my simple mind, signs of the Regime being emboldened are abundant, but signs of its isolation were, on the surface at least, notably lacking.. but nuclear weapons in the hands of the Syrian military?.. Now, that’s a sobering thought!..

Others seem to bet on the ‘Peace Option’.. Some people feel that, as Bush starts his ride into the political sunset, he, and his Republican Party, are eager to do something substantial, to distract from the unholy mess they have created in the Region and around the World.. Bush, as this theory goes, must try and make some significant achievement before he leaves the Oval Office. Otherwise, the Republican Party will be consigned to political wilderness for a generation… He must, at least, be seen to be trying to leave a legacy of some significance.. and there is no bigger prize than a lasting peace in the Middle East.. Now, to my simple mind again, better and wiser people have tried and failed!.. And what’s more, the most basic elements required for the success of such a notion are not in place.. things like fairness and equal respect to all parties involved.. things like credibility and trustworthiness…

But rest assured.. Whatever it is people are fearing, you will be delighted to know that the lingerie industry in Syria is alive and well…

My two weeks in Damascus flew past like two minutes.. However, the beautiful memories I accumulated are worth a lifetime.. every little detail of every moment is alive in my mind.. just like the love of the Old City is forever alive in my heart...

Homeward Bound

It is finally happening.. Within 72 hours, we will be heading to Damascus..

A few weeks ago, I received that precious piece of paper from the Embassy, giving me permission to visit my Country..

I am particularly excited about going to Damascus this year, because my brother, my sister, and her family will also be coming from the States.. It would be the first time the whole family met together since everybody assembled in our humble abode four years ago, to celebrate my father's eightieth Birthday..

It will be far from a restful holiday.. In fact, it will be diabolically hectic.. Nevertheless, I have no doubt that we will all love every minute of it!.. We will be trying hopelessly (but failing miserably) to keep friends and relatives happy.. There just aren't enough hours in the day, or enough days in two weeks, to accept every invitation for breakfast, lunch, dinner, night-out, or day-trip that we will invariably be invited to... I just hope that I can tactfully convince all those lovely, well-meaning people that it is actually physically impossible to do that..

Apart from all the self-indulgence, the great food, and the delightful company, I am looking forward to seeing the City again.. Damascus never fails to surprise me.. It never fails to amaze me how so much can change in two years.. Unfortunately, not all change is for the better, and often I return so deeply saddened but what I have seen..

Despite that, I will hopefully come back with more precious memories, invaluable experiences, and unmissable moments to cherish forever... What I will definitely come back with is excess weight around my waist, that I will struggle to shed over the coming months.. but hey.. it will definitely be worth it...

(Photo: Abu Rummaneh St., Damascus. Source: www.damascus-online.com)