muslim journeys towards love

i stumbled upon these two books today, which piqued my attention: catch a fish from the sea (using the internet) by nasreen akhtar, and love in a headscarf by shelina janmohammed. written by british muslim women, both books are about finding a partner outside the traditional set ups. they seem funny and refreshing.

if anyone has read them, do let me know your thoughts.. i'm going to have to get them off amazon, as neither the public libraries nor hku have them, and i assume most bookstores here won't stock them either..

Writer's 'racist slur' offends Filipinos

By Danilo Reyes
Column: Point of Action, UPI Asia Online
HONG KONG, China, March 31, 2009

A journalist in Hong Kong who described the Philippines as a "nation of servants" in his column may have written his article as a satire, and perhaps his insults were “not intentional,” but the Filipinos’ reaction demonstrates they could not take it lightly. Such comments are deeply hurtful, satirical or otherwise.

The article entitled "The War At Home," written by Chip Tsao, was published in HK Magazine on March 27, but the publishing company, the Asia City Publishing Group, had to pull it from their website three days later. Massive condemnation of the article in both Hong Kong and the Philippines forced the company to make an apology on Monday.

Before Chip Tsao’s article came to light, another local newspaper, The Standard, had published a report on Feb. 25 claiming that Filipinos were carriers of an infectious disease, a “superbug,” quoting an expert from the Center for Health Protection. Considering this a serious issue, I personally wrote to the CHP asking for clarification, only to find out the report did not “express the views of the CHP.”

But unlike HK Magazine, The Standard did not apologize, nor did its editor, Ivan Tong, reply to my letter or email. The journalist who wrote the article, Patsy Moy, stands by her story despite the disclaimer in the CHP’s letter to me.

In searching for a remedy to the problem of articles that misrepresent the Filipino community, I was told that the newly passed Racial Discrimination Ordinance in Hong Kong, though it has provisions to protect ethnic minorities from discrimination, applies only in the workplace. There is no redress for an ethnic group that is offended by published articles or reports.

Thus Filipinos in Hong Kong, for lack of other options, must resort to issuing statements and press releases to protest against discrimination or offensive and false comments. The Filipinos’ reaction to Chip Tsao’s supposedly “satirical” column is not the first time, nor will it be the last, that Filipinos collectively protested against comments they thought offensive.

I recall a controversy over Hollywood actress Claire Danes, who was declared "persona non grata" in the Philippines and whose movies were banned in the country after she commented, following filming in the city, that Manila was infested with cockroaches and rats. She later apologized. There was another case of a Canadian mentor who was condemned over her offensive comments about a Filipino toddler for not being able to use spoon and fork at a primary school.

The Filipinos may be fragmented and divided in some ways – by social class, ethnic group, dialect and ideology – but if their identity as Filipinos is shaken, if they are humiliated or offended, they come together. Perhaps this is a byproduct of their historical colonial past and oppressive regimes.

Let's take Chip Tsao's column as an example. He may argue that his article was intended as a satire; however, he touches upon the very reasons Filipinos have to come to Hong Kong to work as domestic helpers. They come not by their own choice, but are forced to do so by the lack of opportunities at home. This is due to both the abject failure of the Philippines government to develop the country’s economy and to the policy of exporting labor set up during the Marcos regime in the 1970s.

Therefore, it is not the Filipinos' choice as citizens that pushes them to serve foreign households as "modern slaves." This is the product of a policy, crafted by a dictatorial and oppressive regime, that has lasted to this day. It impacts the whole range of Filipinos, which actually includes different ethnic minorities scattered in more than 7,000 islands in the archipelago.

Writings and literary articles that are satirical in nature are not a monopoly of any group of people. This approach is nothing new to Filipinos. In fact, satire was widely used in works by Filipino nationalists like Jose Rizal in his novels, and others who inspired the Philippine revolution against colonial Spain in the 1800s. Thus, to argue that the Filipinos, in reading Chip Tsao, could not “read between the lines” is not accurate.

Filipino domestic workers are often better English speakers and writers than their employers, as English has been their medium of instruction from grade school through college – once again a product of a colonial American past imposed in the 1900s that continues in the education system to this day. It is not accurate to say they cannot grasp subtle meanings.

But in Rizal’s writings, in his politically charged satirical novel "Noli Me Tangere," he used as his objects of ridicule the Spanish friars, the oppressors and plunderers – not those who were suffering due to oppression, the Filipinos. This is what makes Chip Tsao’s approach condemnable. His objects of satire were the domestic workers who are already suffering, forced to separate from their families and to serve foreign households.

The problem with some writers is that they know full well what is offensive but they nevertheless test the waters. Journalism also entails responsibility. When U.S. President Barack Obama was elected, a Filipino-owned newspaper headline read: “Black in White House,” and not “Negro in White House.” In our modern times, not only Filipinos, but everyone knows how deeply it hurts for blacks to be described as Negroes.

In conclusion, I would like to borrow the late Filipino nationalist Jose "Pepe" Diokno's words from an essay written in 1984, in which he described the Philippines as “a nation for our children,” not a nation of servants as Tsao described it. Building a nation for our children has long been the aspiration of all Filipinos, including me.

arrest & detention as a means to make money

last december, i wrote up the case of two men who were arrested and falsely implicated in the abduction of a 13-year-old girl in bangladesh. in actual fact, the police and others involved in the arrest were seeking revenge for a variety of reasons.

as the case unfolded, i was struck by two things: the absurdity of the events, and the inordinate level of corruption involved. payment had to be made for everything, from paying the police officers to give the food brought from home (no food was provided in custody) to the men, to topping up the lawyers' cell phones, to payments for what should/should not be written in official reports. as someone noted, it was a 'festival to make money'.

the exact amount of money and what it was paid for has now been tabulated in a new report, 'Use of police powers for profit'. apart from this bangladesh case, the report also includes cases from sri lanka, pakistan, the philippines and burma. they all spotlight the impunity that surrounds law enforcement agencies, and how large sections of the population are subjected to arrest, detention and even torture, simply for officers to make money.

measurement

i fell in love with jalaluddin rumi the first time i read his work in cairo. it was perhaps the infatuation of a 19-year-old exploring existence and spirituality. the story of rumi's friendship with shams and subsequent awakening added to my fervor.

it was words such as these that had me enraptured:

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”

“The minute I heard my first love story I started looking for you, not knowing how blind that was. Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They're in each other all along.”

since cairo, i have kept merely the memory of rumi with me. yesterday however, i came across a poem of his that struck me in its intensity and conviction, not to mention islamic principles (i must admit that in university, rumi's islamic origins were almost irrelevant).

On Resurrection Day God will ask,
“During this reprieve I gave you,
what have you produced for Me?
Through what work have you reached your life’s end?
Your food and your strength, for what have they been consumed?
Where have you dimmed the luster of your eyes?
Where have you dissipated your five senses?
You have expended eyes and ears and intellect
and the pure celestial substances;
what have you purchased from the earth?
I gave you hands and feet as spade and mattock
for tilling the soil of good works,
when did they by themselves become existent?”

what an awesome poem. each line is a reminder, a kick in the backside. i have wasted too much time recently in self indulgence and pity. it's time to get back on track. ayaam-al-taabudat is a great opprtunity for renewal. oh, i also need to find my copy of rumi!

simple, beautiful and true

a few episodes (little mosque on the prairie) ago, rayyan explained her decision of wearing hijab thus:

"you can express your faith in a lot of ways; i chose to wear the hijab... it's not about the part of me that it covers, but the part it shows."

bizzabt! so eloquently put. that girl rocks. as does the show.

the gift of rain

written by tan twan eng, the gift of rain was a big and beautiful novel. and it came to me at the most opportune time; its beautiful writing and sense of perspective soothed my spirit when nothing else could. i am in awe that someone's first novel could be this rich in detail, history and characters. reading it on the heels of aravind adiga's the white tiger only underlined its beauty (the white tiger had neither likeable characters nor moving prose).

the beginning of the second half of the novel however, had so much pain that i was forced to put it down a couple of times, blinking away tears. also, i cannot say that i fully grasped the notions of fate and destiny described by eng, or the depth of the protagonist's love for his teacher. not that that detracted from my enjoyment in any way. this story of a war, a country, a family, an individual; of love, friendship and responsibility, is one i want on my bookshelf.

some quotes:

"Memories- they are all the aged have. The young have hopes and dreams, while the old hold remains of them in their hands and wonder what has happened to their lives."

"The world goes by, the young and the hopeful all head for their future... There is the miscoception that we have reached our destinations the moment we grow old, but it is not a well accepted fact that we are still travelling towards those destinations, still beyond our reach even on the day we close our eyes for the final time."

"Like a fist, a cloud of thick black smoke punched out of the funnel and then opened into the wind"

"The most rewarding way to see the place one lives in is to show it to a friend."

"The pain flared like red ink splashed on paper"

"I told him what i could remember, treading water in the shallows of my memory."

"understanding the language, yet not comprehending the patterns of life to which it gave voice"

"When you are lost... remember who you have been and you will know who you are. These people were all you, and you are them. I was you before you were born, and you will be me after I am gone. That is the meaning of family."

"Anger and sorrow walked with me, joining hands with guilt- the three walls of my prison."

"What will damn us will not be papers, but the memories of men"

hibernation

it has been ten days since i have been removed from the real world: work, news, life. i havent been a very graceful invalid. the constant pain, headaches and low grade fever keep me cranky and tired. i know that i suffer from a minor (and temporary, inshallah) injury, for which i am thankful. this does not stop me from feeling sorry for myself though. i know people who function well even when they are not physically feeling one hundred per cent. if only i was one of them. (perhaps this will be incentive to take better care of my body in the future..)

ten days is not a long time. and yet, my hibernation so far has left me reluctant to go back outside. i dont want to shed my pajamas, look in the mirror or have a conversation about anything more complicated than my next meal. this stems from the days before i fell i suppose.. whatever the reason for the fall and injury (assuming there is one of course), i am sure it was not meant to cause further retreat.

it has taken me 35 mins to type the two above paras. time to reward myself with painkillers.