Dulce et decorum est?

“Dulce et decorum est pro patria mori” is a line from the Roman lyrical poet Horace’s Odes. It means. “It is sweet and becoming to die for one’s country,” and was used frequently by pro-war protagonists to recruit young men to fright in WWI.

This week, Britain is celebrating 25 years since the war in the Falklands.

I’ve done a lot of work over the last few years in Palestine, Northern Ireland and now in Sierra Leone. The news coverage of the current bloodshed in Gaza, mixed with the memories of the stories I’ve heard, and things I’ve seen abroad with work….I have to say I have found his weeks ‘celebration’ of the Falklands war very difficult.

Thatcher has publicly said “we should still rejoice” at the victory in 1982 saying “in the struggle against evil… we can all today draw hope and strength” from the Falklands victory…Fortune does, in the end, favour the brave”

Me, John and Muffle spent Thursday night depressing ourselves about the state of the world, and since then, I have been drawn back to one of my all time favourite poems – Dulce et Decorum Est by Wilfred Owen. (I wish I’d had the intelligence to bring it up that night lads!)

Wilfred Own wrote the poem from the trenches during WWI as a direct response to war propagandist, Jenny Frost, who wrote poems exclaiming the virtues of war during WWI. He originally wrote it as a letter to her, from the trenches, but encouraged by his friend, and another fantastic anti-war poet, Siegfried Sasoonn, he wrote it as a poem. It was only published once the war was over and is for me better than anything any politician or leader has ever said about the realities of war. It is made all the more poignant, as he was killed in the last week of war, in 1918.

If you don’t read the whole poem, just read the last 4 lines. They are stunning and a perfect counter-balance to our ‘heroic’ pro-falkalnds war news coverage this weekend. Despite being written 90 years ago, I also think it is as relevant today, to those all over the world, where war and conflict dominates peoples lives, as it was all those years ago.

Dulce et Decorum Est
by Wilfred Owen

Pride and hope vs horror and helplessness

We spent one afternoon this week in Kissy, which is in the most easterly province of Freetown. This was where the RUF forces retreated too after their first attempt to take Freetown, and they made it their base for a while. As far as Freetown is concerned, this part took the main brunt of the conflict, most notably the people living there.

We visited a school and training centre that is working to rehabilitate children and young people who’ve been affected by the war. We had discussion with the young people there, our group, sharing their own experiences of conflict.

Whilst this was going on, I was assured away by one of the teachers, who wanted to take me on a walk of the area.

He said it was impossible to understand the work they do at the school with out knowing what had happened here particularly in the last few years of the war. He said when the Lome accord was signed; this area of Kissy was a ghost town. Nearly every house had been destroyed or damaged and nearly everyone killed, forced into militias or fled.

Walking around I saw such obvious destruction. Every other house was burnt our or simply a ‘footprint’, with the concrete floor left. He told me personal stories of the people who had been living there, and his own personal stories from the time the rebels went on the rampage in this area.

You can read books, see films and be told about the horrors of war so many times, but to actually be there, and be being told, at the point and place these stories happened, about what had been on that very street corner, or what had happened in that very shell of a house. That brings it home more than ever.

Yet throughout the whole walk he was telling me this, he continued to be positive and upbeat. He wasn’t telling me to shock me or make me feel guilty, but to show use it as a mirror to the past, to make me see how well the local community had begun to rebuild their lives.

In amongst what appears to us to be carnage….he was so proud.

When you see such extreme poverty, its so easy to think the situation helpless, yet he wanted to impress on me, despite how simply it may appear helpless, his people had come so far in such a short space of time.

That was real pride and hope. That was what I took away, not the horrific stories. And that is what he wanted me to take away.

If Carlsbeg did youth work venues….

OK, nothing will ever be the same again. In youth work, we always talk about creating environment – a place for us to work with young people. Well, most YMCAs I work in will never quite live up to this.

We took our youth work sessions with the young people out the Freetown YMCA today and out to the beach. Tourism is virtually non-existant, so most of the beaches are beautiful and untouched. We took our selves out of the city to spend the day at ‘No.2 River’ beach – which is one of the most beautiful I have ever seen, with a river running in behind it, that forms two large white sand islands, and the jungle literally coming up to the sand.

 

I know you’ll be thinking we just spent all day on the beach, and I can hear the Daily Mail having a field day, but we took flipcharts, pens, workshop plans, and got the groups doing some great group work, focusing on peace building. Believe it or not, it was so me of the best work they’ve done all week. As they scattered along the beach into their groups, one meeting on some rocks, the other under a mango tree – I realised how important environment was to youth work in the most extreme way.

Enjoy it while I can I thought – it’ll be back to the big, old, cold colourless halls next week!

Roland

 It appears as if my new friends the cockroaches, with whom me and Brendy are sharing a room, now have a new friend themselves – a rat!  We had a moment as our eyes met, mine said ‘shock’, his said’ I shouldn’t be here, whoops I’ve been caught’. So he scooted his large hairy frame up a pipe and out of a hole.  We’ve blocked the hole up from where he came, as anti-social as it may be, it will at least make us sleep better……

Religous ‘tolerance’

 

Sierra Leone is a predominantly Muslim country. Yet both Islam and Christianity are thriving religions here. From my UK perspective and probably stereotyped opinion, and given the political climate we all live in at the moment, I assumed that this would have caused tensions in their society. Yet this is not the case, in fact many Sierra Leoneans have gone out of their way to point this out – it is a cause of great pride. One friend said “can you imagine how much more horrific the war had been if we’d let religion get in the way too?”

One example of this was on the ferry over to pick the group up from the airport (an experience in itself). The room we were in had entertainment, and the guy happily put on a Christian worship CDs, which most people in the room sang and clapped along to. Augustine, our colleague from Sierra Leone pointed this out, saying that most of the people in the room would have been Muslim. Yet it seemed no issues for everyone to be together and singing along.

They have a thriving inter-religious council, that met continuously throughout the war too.

Muslims here celebrate Christmas and Easter and Christians celebrate Eid and respect (and many observe) Ramadan. One friend said that people will even attend services, or prayers with friends anf family of the other religion. You see no real obvious, traditional or overt symbols or expressions of people religions on the streets – except for the many mosques and churches that line the streets many side by side. Traditional religious dress, such as conservative dress or women wearing the veil is almost non-existent – yet everyone you speak to, from both religions have extremely deep faiths.

Obi, another friend here told me today about his family. He is a Christian, so is his brother, one sister and his mum. His two other sisters and another brother are both Muslim, and his father is the Imam at their local mosque. They all respect and celebrate each other faiths, celebrate major festivals together and from what it sounds like, have very vibrant conversations. His family is certainly not unique. He says people are taught from a young age to understand each others religions.

So it appears as if education and understanding is the key. Everyone understands and knows about each other religions. We have such issues glaring issues in the UK about all this.

What can we learn from how the different religions live together so cohesively?

Can we learn from how the Muslims here make the Christian minority feel valued and respected? Can we learn from how much education and respect of other religions is so valued?

Obi says the key is being confident enough in our own religions to not feel the need to ‘convert’ each other – it is from that that conflict arises.

The guys here say that the integration is simple. It based on mutual understanding. Whereas in the UK it is based on ignorance and fear.

Fundamentalism and evangelicalism in both religions in almost frowned upon here. For them, ‘tolerance’ isn’t even a word they’d use. They don’t need to ‘tolerate’ eachother, they moved beyond that and just get along.

Yet we here in the UK and in most countries around the world can’t even seem to get the toleration stage.

There is much for all of us to learn from Sierra Leone.

Time to myself?

Loads to write about soon guys – been pretty mental since the group arrived – and unbelievable experiences – the group go off on a home stay programme, so should have time to myself (its that’s possible here) to get some thoughts down and posted

Its just impossible to find time when you do these programmes to just reflect and think yourself – buti guess thats all part of the job…but hopefully i can do some of that this afternoon – i certainly need it…

Freetown

The last two days I am beginning to get my head around Freetown. In all my busy work schedule before I came, I’d not really got my head around the fact that Sierra Leone is, according to the UN, the second poorest country on earth.

Poverty is everywhere, shacks that house seemingly impossibly large families have been built on spare land, even at the YMCA, they come right up to the 4 walls, meaning the YMCA building is surrounded by what is effectively a shanty town.

Most people there had fled the rural areas for the relative safety of the capital in the early days of the war and now find themselves trapped by poverty. This is the most immediate sign on the recent war.

Its hard to avoid the signs of war, they almost seem to haunt you. On almost every street corner, groups of men, amputees, sit around, some begging. They are left with the most obvious scars of all.

Many of the older colonial buildings have obvious damage to them and many plots now sit silently, where wooden homes were burnt down of blown up. Again, scars left on every street. The ruins seem eerie, many obvious, other hidden behind corrugated iron, other with new building being built out of the rubble.

Yet it also the most colourful city I’ve seen for ages and one of the most beautiful. It is built on and surrounded by huge hills lied with jungle, making it so green. This fits perfectly with the colourful buildings, street signs and fauna that line the roads, along with the multitude of street stalls that line nearly every street. The people too make this such a vibrant place to be. Without resorting to clichés, they are so unbelievably friendly and happy – there is such a determination to move on and to try and build a better future – this seems to dominate every conversation I have.

The group from Northern Ireland arrive tomorrow, so the work begins, and I hope to get an even better insight into this fascinating country.

Football – Real passion again

As the YMCA has power in the evening, it charges local guys to come I and watch bug football matches. So tonight I joined the full room to watch Man Uts vs Roma.

Everyone is obsessed with English football here and they all support on of our big four teams (I did ask if there were any reports of other Norwich City fans, but was politely told they were not big enough). Watching the game tonight, with a room full of wild fans, not one of them needing to drink or fight to show their passion, made me think about how I think I’ve lost my own passion for the game.

People here are so passionate about it. On lots of street corners enterprising bars and individuals advertise on chalk blackboards the games, when they are on, and the charge to come in and watch. I also know they recently held (and so proud to have) the first ever FIFA amputees World Cup – which my friend Simon had photographed.

Anyway, back to the game. The room was full and people talking incessantly about the game and football in general, and from what I could pick up from the Creole, it was really engaging intelligent football conversation – and in such stark contrast to back home – they did not need a drop of drink to talk about it or to enjoy the game.

As Man Utd’s goals went in, one after the other, people jumped and ran around the room joy, hugging eachother and slapping hands. Pure unadulterated pleasure. It was how I always imagined my front room to have been like if we’d gone all the way in Euro ’96.

It was a pleasure and for me to have shared their passion, I’ve not enjoyed watching a game like that for so so long – I guess their passion was contagious.

3 new posts below

Hi, theres 3 new posts below – i had to uplaods them all at once. As you’ll read, there is only power for5 hours a day, so its been tricky getting on line!

Matt x

Hear’say

Yes they are still big somewhere. As we drove across town form the heliport to the YMCA, the local radio announcer introduced Hear’say’s ‘Pure and Simple’ with the words “and now for the song you all just can’t stop singing…”

Surreal.

There is no national electricity system here, so people who can afford it use generators to power them. At the YMCA, they have enough diesel daily to have power from 7pm until midnight. Then it runs out and all goes dark. As we ere taken to our rooms as we arrived very late, we were given a paraffin lamp and told we’d soon be in darkness. The paraffin lamp brought back memories of my year in Zimbabwe 10 years ago. Have I changed so much since then? For a year I lived with no electricity and running water, yet the thought of the power going off in half and hour or so sent me into a spiral of anxiety.

Still I survived the night. I think much of the anxiety is just being somewhere for the first night, the strange smells, sounds and feelings. Arriving at night is always difficult anyway, as you have no real concept of the place you are coming to, its boundaries and yours. So last night was fairly difficult. There are so many songs, prayers and poems about everything turning out fine in the morning, and there is a reason. Its usually so true. So after muddling through the nights sleep, by the time the sun rose, I felt calm, settled and ready to start work. And ready to start exploring what looked such an amazing city as the sun rose over the stunning view from my room

Don’t Blink First

So I’ve been on a helicopter. Wow, it was pretty exhilarating, and at the same time terrifying. My legs have not gone genuinely wobbly for a long long time. Yes it was old, yes the seatbelts didn’t work and yes, bits of the roof seemed to be falling whilst some of the windows wouldn’t shut, seemingly painted open. The helicopter is one of 3 options to get from Freetown airport, which is situated on a small island, into the town (the others are hovercraft – which has broken down – or 3 hours road journey via a ferry).

We joined the funny mix of foreign NGO and UN workers and locals, all of whom seemed terrified deep down, but at the same time, all seemed intent on keeping up the ‘isn’t this so funny, I’ve done this so many time before’ relaxed look. It was a case of don’t blink first. I think if one went, we all would have begun hysterically holding hands and telling eachother all our deepest darkest secrets in what we thought might be our final few minutes.

As I happened, the ride itself was awesome. I know it sounds stupid, but I was not expecting it to go straight up, which shocked me at first, but as it swept majestically over the coast of Freetown, we could see the flickering lights of the city that was to become our home for 2 weeks and the mountains and hills that encradle it. The open windows had gone from cause of great concern and anxiety, to one of splendid views and intriguing smells.

Certainly beats the Stanstead Express.

Modern technology and ‘deep impact’ all over again – again

I sit here writing my blog, on an airbus from London to Freetown, via Dakar. I am listening to Kylie Minogue’s Live Showgirl Homecoming gig in Sydney on the in-flight entertainment (which by the way is brilliant, get searching on itunes, she duets live with Bono on ‘Kids’, does a great cover of ‘Vogue’ and has Doctor Who quotes in her interludes) and have just watched two movies. Everyone is surrounded by ipods, laptops and blackberrys.

Got me thinking about modern technology and how ‘instant’ we now expect everything to be. On-demand TV, films and music and planes, as if we cannot find time to be patient and just ‘be’. I myself felt anxious turning my phones off for the 8 hour flight. I was in Leicester yesterday before I came out here, and as it was Easter Sunday all the shops were shut, but we went into town, and it was so funny people everywhere wandering aimlessly, seemingly in shock that the shops were closed and there was nothing to do

Once again, its was tears on the plane. I just don’t know what it is with planes –read (See an earlier post from India)

This time it was the history boys, which is a great film, though I wish I’d seen the stage version. The script is just sublime, almost too good for film. This, with all my own pondering about wasted Oxbridge interviews, was then followed with the recent Doctor Who episode in which Sarah Jane comes back and admits her love for him, and we first realise he loves Rose (sorry for being a geek). His led to the inevitable waterworks all over again. One day I will get through a long haul flight without tears! I guess it’s the repressed fear and anxiety about flying, that has to come out somehow, I’ve never liked flying, but I guess I have to do it so much now, I’ve repressed all the those fears.

Still, new ones to be found with the coming helicopter ride

Expectation

Normally when I go off on a trip I am in the office on the last day before I fly frantically getting all my last bits and bobs together, but because of the Easter Weekend, thats not been the case, so I did all the frantic stuff on Thursday, and have had 3 days to try and relax before I go.

That’s been odd, I think, as you have more time to reflect on whats coming up, where as normal, I just often don’t physically get time to do that – too much running around at the last minute…

I’m a bit more apprehensive than normal to be honest. I’ve never been to West Africa before and with all that’s been going on with my life recently, I just hope I’ve got the emotional reserves to get through what could be a tough time.

As this is a youth work project too, and I’ll be being a youth worker, which is brill, but it will have added responsibilities and difficulties. Its part of your job as a youth wokrer to talk and discuss and engage, and you need to be ready to do that with the young people on their terms, not on yours, so time to just ‘’chill’ and find time for myself may be at a premium…but the group do not arrive until Thursday, so provided it doesn’t take too long organising the final tweaks to their programme, I may get some time before then to myself.

Also, India in January was such an amazing time, both as a work project, but also personally, that I hope Sierra Leone can match those expectations.

Saying all that, I am really looking forward to it. It’ll be great to be out there and just be a ‘youth worker’ and not worry about the other side of my job, and do what I love doing, and what I do this job for.

The group are also a brilliant bunch, who already seem up for the coming weeks, and prepared to make some of the brave steps they will need to make to properly engage with this project (It’s a cross-community project which has brought together a group of Protestant and Catholic young people, to explore the conflict and peace process in Northern Ireland to help them reflect on their place and role in it)

Also well excited about the helicopter you have o get from the airport into Freetown!

Check out http://globalRAPP.wordpress.com – which is the official work bog the young people are writing whilst we are away – its says a wee bit more about the project on the ‘about this blog’ page.

Of tomorrow, so best go and pack now! Happy Easter x