I have never been one to get homesick. I don’t know why. Perhaps it’s a deep-rooted lack of enthusiasm for Scotland’s evergray skies and its winds that seem to chill me to the bone. Perhaps. I love Scotland, I am enthusiastically Scottish, but that doesn’t mean I have to like the weather, or feel homesick.
So I don’t know what it is about this video. Perhaps it’s because it shows a lot of the places I used to spend my time as a student. Perhaps. Perhaps it’s just been a while since I visited my home town (Edinburgh – my dear North American readers, sorry, but there’s no ‘g’ pronounced at the end there, aim more for ‘Edinbuhruh’, cheers, you’ve just won a lot of friends!).
Perhaps it’s just because I’m happy to see someone in my home town do something so cool*, so utterly amazing. Go on. Watch it. It’s totally worth it.
I think most of the rest of us are but mere ‘Sunday’ cyclists!
*Of course he’s not the only one, it’s just I’m so uncool that I don’t see many!
I just came across this website and video a little while ago. I haven’t done extensive research into it – I’m taking it at face value, as it appears to be genuine. These are brave young people who are committed to serving their country with the belief that peace isn’t to be found at the end of a gun. Very interesting.
For those of you who are time-pressed, it’s short – just over 2 mins.
This will be my last political post for the time-being. I’m rather sad as the issues raised in the comments over the past few days in response to the last two posts are issues close to my heart and I have very much enjoyed reading and replying to them. So (polite) commentors, thank you.
I wasn’t going to write again about it, as I said before, this is not a political blog and other than negotiations and a handful of Gazan casualties, it doesn’t involve Egypt.
Then came footage of Dr Ezzeldeen Abu al-Aish. Part of the footage is posted below. Here’s what appears to have happened (based from translated video footage): this Gazan man, Dr Ezzeldeen Abu al-Aish, is a doctor who in more peaceful times trained in Israel and now speaks Hebrew and works in an Israeli hospital. He has been on Israel’s Channel 10 daily, apparently, giving updates of what is going on around him (Israeli press were also not allowed into the Gaza Strip). As he is on air, his house is bombed and three of his children are killed. The Israeli journalist holding a mobile phone in the Channel 10 studio and interviewing him is in shock.
In what is one of the most touching moments of this whole affair, where there is a 90% approval rate amongst Israelis for the war, this journalist offers to help and manages to pull some strings to allow a Palestinian ambulance access to take the injured family members to the border, where an Israeli ambulance picks them up and takes them to an Israeli hospital.
People helping people. That is the real solution, in my opinion. Most Israelis have never met a Palestinian from the West Bank or Gaza and likewise, most Palestinians from those areas have never met Israelis (outside military/violent scenarios).
What happens next is not shown on the clip that Al Jazeera put on You Tube and their own site, but they showed last night.
Dr Ezzeldeen Abu al-Aish was sitting in what looks like an entrance, possibly to the hospital his children are in, but that is not clear, he has just lost three children, others are injured, and he is devastated, but giving an interview to Israeli press. He talks about how this cannot be the future, his children attended peace camps with Isreali children, killing innocents cannot be the way ahead. Midstream, a lady passing-by stops and screams at him, furiously waving her arm and then pointing at him accusingly, yelling that she has a son in the army and if he hadn’t had weapons in his home, they wouldn’t have targeted him. He looks up in disbelief, the people around him move closer in a bid to shield him, while another two men join in the verbal attacks. He shakes his head and says, “They don’t understand”.
I am not sure that I have ever seen anybody with such dignity. If I find the full clip I will post it. To be quite honest, I am not sure why Al Jazeera did not put up the full clip.
It perhaps needs to be pointed out, that if Israel, with its vast security network and lists of enemies within the Palestinian territories, thought that this man was a terrorist, or had him on a list as a possible terrorist, he would never have been allowed to work in Israel. He certainly, given the current situation, would not have been allowed to cross over the border and have his children treated at an Israeli hospital.
A little disclaimer: I do not think Hamas should fire home made, or ‘real’ rockets into Israel. I do not believe that Israel’s attack on Gaza will bring peace any closer. Unfortunately.
A note about comments: all comments are welcome. Please remember the post is about Dr Ezzeldeen Abu al-Aish and the people involved in the clip, not about the overall actions of either side. If you disagree with anything I’ve written, you are more than welcome to voice it in the comments section. Any comments with disrespectful and/or derogatory language (that means of me, or of EITHER Palestine/Gaza/Muslims or Israel/Jews) will not be posted. Ultimately I decide what is disrespectful. Language-wise, if you would use the language in front of your grandmother, you will probably get past the censor!
Update (21 Jan 09): All comments posted will remain up unless the author requests their removal. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the view of Trailing Grouse. Views held by both myself and commentators at time of writing are subject to change and will not, of course, be updated. As of today, comments may be posted, but no response will be given. The ‘note about comments’ remains in effect.
Update (5 Feb 09): The BBC has published a report following Israel’s acceptance that it was it’s shells that hit the house. The article can be found here.
Perhaps it’s because he’s the only Western guy on TV getting visibly angry about civilians getting injured and killed. Perhaps it’s because he actually talks some sense. Perhaps it’s because the combination of those two points leads to the hope that someone will do something.
I try hard not to get involved in politics here – this isn’t what my blog is for. I am using my ‘admin’ authority to override that in this instance (ooh the dizzy heights of power!).
The ‘war’ on Gaza features on most major news headlines at the moment. If you are watching CNN, BBC, Sky, Fox, or any other of the leading news channels you will not have the same level of reporting as if you have access to Al Jazeera International. While, understandably, this channel is rather pro-Palestinian, it is also the ONLY international news channel with reporters inside Gaza (Israel expelled all foreign journalists from the Strip before it launched its assault). So, if you have the opportunity to turn it on, I offer the suggestion that it may be interesting.
Now, back to Mr Ging. He is the UN’s Director of Operations in Gaza. I have no idea what this guy is like. Perhaps he always shouts, perhaps he’s just over excitable, perhaps he’s been brainwashed by Hamas. From what I’ve seen of him, I like to think that he’s incensed by what is unfolding before his eyes. If you haven’t had the opportunity to see him, I will offer you a fat-free treat from You Tube (there are no bloody scenes in these clips):
John Ging outside Al Shifa Hospital at the beginning of the bombing.
John Ging in a statement on 12 Jan 09.
Now I suppose I should put a little disclaimer to avoid a comment box full of nasty mail: I do not think Hamas should fire home made, or ‘real’ rockets into Israel. I also do not think that there is, or can be, any excuse for what Israel is currently doing in Gaza.
UPDATE (16 Jan 09): All comments are welcome. Please remember the post is about John Ging and the media, not about the actions of either side. If you disagree with anything I’ve written, you are more than welcome to voice it in the comments section. Any comments with disrespectful and or derogatory language (that means of me, or of EITHER Palestine/Gaza/Muslims or Israel/Jews) will not be posted. I decide what is disrespectful ultimately, but if you would use the language in front of your grandmother, you will probably get past the censor!
Update (21 Jan 09): All comments posted will remain up unless the author requests their removal. Opinions expressed do not necessarily reflect the view of Trailing Grouse. Views held by both myself and commentators at time of writing are subject to change and will not, of course, be updated. As of today, comments may be posted, but no response will be given. The 16 Jan 09 Update remains in effect.
(Gosh, did I really have to write that? It seems so…) Yet another update (23 Jan 09): In the interest of fairness, this post has allowed a wide variety of views in the comments section. None of them, however, have persuaded me that I am not right in singing the praises of John Ging. As it is my blog, I would like to devote any further comments to reflect this view. This is not to say the man is perfect – he is human – but let not a failing common to us all detract from positive work done under conditions most of us can barely begin to imagine.
Our big cycling weekend is coming up and due to the neck sauna issue I’m not allowed on a bike. Having made the decision to actually do this trip given my levels of unfitness (and it took a lot of courage), being told I’m not allowed to was a bit of a downer.
I will still be going though (to sit in the supply jeep) and with any luck I’ll both remember my camera and how to use it and will bring back some great pics. Fingers crossed.
In the meantime, I thought I’d update you on the King Swing I promised to do in Canada. We went to the park in Nanaimo where the King Swing is and watched some people bungy, hoping to see someone swing. We watched for about half an hour and nobody did King Swing. The rational Mr S had figured out all the physics of it and decided that it all looked pretty boring (i KNOW – how can that beeee!!) while I was fighting a major internal battle: if I don’t do it now, I’ll regret it – yeah, but I don’t have to do it and nobody will know…
Eventually, bored, Mr S said it was time to go. We turned to leave and blow me, I realised that I’d be desperately disappointed with myself if I sissied out.
I mentioned in the original post that I was scared of heights. I should point out that that was a bit of an understatement: I had a problem just walking up the stairs onto the bridge we would swing off. Up I went though, cursing the sadistic nut would design a bridge 45m high that had slats you could see through underfoot.
Before we swung I was already beginning to lose it a bit. I was hanging onto my sanity as tightly as I was to the straps around me. Needless to say that after swinging 45m d-o-w-n I was a bit of a hyperventilating, shaking wreck. Later, feeling a little hoarse, I apologised to Mr S for screaming in his ear, he looked at me like I was crazy and told me I hadn’t uttered a peep! Hmmm. Then there was the sore muscle near my heart for about an hour afterwards. Double hmmm: think I was petrified!
Anyway, I did it. And I might even do it again one day – but not for a while!
Here’s a little video of what we did. For some reason it won’t embed, so you’ve got a link instead. It doesn’t have me in it,* as I wasn’t wearing my TG feathers that day, but if you just imagine the smiles you see to be a stony nervous face next to a nonchalant Mr S, you’ll have a pretty accurate picture of what went on!
I am in a state of pure childlike excitement at the moment. The sort that sends eight year old girls jumping around the house screaming and waving their arms around!
A little while ago I mentioned that I would absolutely love to be suspended from a helicopter and flown around. I wasn’t joking: if anyone has a helicopter and the equipment, my email is on the About page.
This summer we are lucky enough to be heading BC direction so I started to look for somewhere to go ziplining. If you’ve never heard of it, think of it like a GIANT flying fox that goes through forests, between cliffs and through canyons. Sometimes they are part of into tree-top adventure courses so in between flying higher than the trees, you have to cross rope bridges 70ft/30m up etc.
I was pretty thrilled by the thought of whizzing through the trees until I stumbled across King Swing! Here’s an excerpt:
“Strapped into an “ultra cool” paragliding harness, designed for the intense forces that this incredible ride generates, our bridge crew will clip you securely into a cable that extends up and above the sandstone canyon cliffs. The cables tighten as you are cinched up like a slingshot, pulling you ever closer to the 150 foot abyss.
“You launch in seconds and drop like a meteor entering the atmosphere! Start your scream with a near free-fall towards the river. The swing catches you and the thrill of speed up to 140 km/hr and “feel it to your core” G-Force, stick with you as you scream past the canyon walls on the rocket ride of a lifetime!” (WildPlay Element Park)
I’m not sure just how I’m going to contain myself for the next three months.
Oh, and did I mention, I’m scared of heights and of not having stable flooring beneath my feet!
When I was 13 I went to school in Austria for two months during the Summer term. It was great. Coming from Scotland, the only thing I cared about was that I saw the sun almost every day, which essentially meant I was on holiday (despite the homework).
I was staying in a lovely old four-storey house, just down the road from the Mirabell Gardens and Palace in Salzburg. This meant nothing to me before I arrived (and not very much either when I was there as I didn’t watch much TV), but it was where Maria and the children sang “Do-Re-Me” in The Sound of Music. Very picturesque and a little touristy.
I am guessing that at one time, way back when, the house I was staying in faced fields. Then, one day, probably in the seventies, along came a town planner and decided the fields would make an excellent location for a whopping great big block of flats.
The result, twenty years later, was a distinct lack of ‘respectability’ on the opposite side of the street. This had less to do with economics and more to do with the presence of two sex shops in the giant blocks (one which blatantly offered more than toys for sale). Now, sunshine was most definitely a great change from the grey skies of Scotland, however, living opposite two sex shops, proved fantastic entertainment for a 13 year old girl who was particularly sheltered back in her homeland.
My friends and I used to gather at my window and yell things to the men who would try to sneak into the dodgier of the two shops. Subject to particular attention were the ones who entered carrying toilet roll (no idea why and don’t want to know). After yelling, or wolf-whistling, we would immediately duck down under the window, giggling, and then raise our heads slowly to catch sight of the confused patron.
And so it was this afternoon, that leaning over our balcony railing, I saw Mr S arrive home. I blew out a long wolf whistle. Unfortunately he didn’t hear. The four workmen on the street apparently have better hearing and spun around, looking at each other to see where it came from.
I, worried I’d be spotted, ran inside giggling, giddy with the idea I had just stumbled upon a way of playing with the workmen who have been annoying me so much for the past 18 months.
This has nothing whatsoever to do with Egypt other than the fact that I’m sitting in the country watching the rugby.
Can someone please tell me what is up with the Scottish rugby strip? Can’t they just wear blue? There is an increasing amount of lilac appearing. I know that the thistle is our national flower, but the last time I checked it was purple, not lilac.
I’m not a cricket fan, but a couple of times I’ve seen the Saltires playing one day internationals and their strip has always looked great – a dark royal blue with a cross on. A group pic of them shows how striking one version of their strip is.
Also, since when is our flag navy blue? Our weather is so dismal, a blue resembling our flag would be a little less dreary.
Another peeve is how a lot of rugby shirts (not just Scotland) are beginning to look as if their inspiration came from spiderman suits. Do rugby players really need special designs on their shoulders to make them look bigger? I’m all for advances in technology but different colour panels are not going to make the players play any better.
Anyway, it’s 26 mins into the Scotland New Zealand match and I’d just like to applaud the Blue’s B team who probably never imagined they’d be taking on the All Blacks in the World Cup.
Before we lifted off Egyptian tarmac, I planned to write a blog while away dedicated to all the things I miss about Egypt when I’m not there. The past has seen a long lists of this nature from the obvious, when visiting Baritanya, the sun, to the more obscure: the smell of my dust warmed in my apartment from the day’s heat. The friendly Egyptian manner with smiles that beam through life’s difficulties, is something inevitably on the list; shops open late at night and their assiciated hubub, including tnoisy traffic; tasty fruit and veg; safety on the streets due to a lack of street crime (harassment never seemed to count against this for some reason).
So, the first day past: it was too soon, I wasn’t missing anything. The second and the third past: I still wasn’t missing anything. By day four, when I was somewhere in the Swiss Alps enjoying wine and fondue in the arms of Italian hospitality, I was not only not missing anything, but I didn’t want to go back.
This was an astounding turnaround.
I used to miss Cairo before I’d even reached the airport. Not a simple wistfulness, but a deep, fist-wrenching-my-soul-out-of-my-gut feeling that left me empty as I checked-in.
I don’t mind going back, but only because it’s a new beginning, one that has a pretty definite end, which in itself allows me the luxury of enjoying the difficulties of life in Cairo as one who knows they can escape: a guest.
Ok, so I`m feeling a bit smug. I have a belly full of beautiful barbequed beef with a fine burgundy, beans fresh from the garden, local cheeses and freshly made tart with plums straight from the tree. Yummy.
On the not-so-smug-side I had a hacking smoker`s cough this morning after yesterday`s 15 km hike followed by a 20km cycle, 12km of which was up a (gradual) hill. Seems clean air was a bit too much for my polluted lungs.
But hey, no sleazy looks or comments for over 24 hours, most of which was not spent indoors!
