May 8th. Maggi's flat. Smiles for Gwen. Taken by Altaf with love.
I should have realised, as I looked at two brightly coloured butterflies dancing down the middle of Paisley Road West at 9 O'clock on a May evening, that a cosmic shift had occured in my life.
"We are just going for a walk" they said,"as it is our tradition". Nearly an hour later, in the pitch black of a Glasgow night in an area where gangs roam and drunks thrive, I stood in my lounge window where I had held anxious vigil since their departure. Every nail had been bitten to the quick as I anticipated the international crisis and social conflict that would follow the loss of two young muslim girls within hours of arriving in my country.Would I be allowed to continue as a social worker in the employ of Glasgow City Council? Would my family ever speak to me again? How would I cope with the media exposure of my neglect of two such innocents? And above all, how could I face their parents with this betrayal of trust on my part?
Just at the point of dialing the last digit to inform the Gex supervisors of this awful tragedy, the butterflies came back into sight, skipping gaily along Paisley Road West with huge smiles on their faces. Was I given an opportunity to express my distress at their prolonged absence? Not a bit of it! I was bombarded with tales of long-lost 'cousins' who had entertained them in their late-opening shops; I was informed of facilities and public buildings, miles away, that they were dying to further explore. My protestations were swept aside by hugs and squeals of excitement at being in "the best host-home" with "the best host-mother" and the proof that I had nothing to worry about was that they were "here"!
The following morning didn't fare much better!
As I dropped them off at the internal carpark in Central Station where they were to meet the Gex group, and told them to follow the commuters coming off a train..........that is just what they did!.....All the way past the concourse, through the station, out into the busy streets of Glasgow, and into the offices of the commuters whom they were tailing! Hopelessly lost on the first day! Did they panic! No! They simply charmed some poor unsuspecting Company Executive into believing that they were the nicest young ladies she had ever met!
And it has been downhill ever since!
Every domestic rule discussed on health, safety and security principles has been earnestly agreed to................... and just as earnestly flouted! Every specific place for kitchen equipment etc, so that I can find it again, has been demonstrated, acknowledged ..............and ignored! I have tried the wagging finger until I now have an athritic joint. I have tried lecturing, demonstrating, sulking and cajoling..... all to no avail. Every serious attempt to establish ground rules has degenerated into giggles and hugs while sweeping aside the promise of dire consequences if they fail to comply.
I have even threatened an arranged marriage to my mystic son as an act of joint revenge.... and was dismayed by the level of enthusiasm for the idea.... by one of them at least!
I have now given in!
I am resigned to living in a home of unchanged beds with food-encrusted dishes in the sink, puddles on the bathroom floor and sticky keys on the lap-top and the cooker knobs and nothing is where it should be! But, hey!.... the food is great; the puddles present a gymnastic challenge to an aging hippy; the sticky keys still annoy and the beds are none of my business! Being of a Buddhist persuation, I know that this too shall pass and be of ultimately little account. I shall once again experience the peace, quiet and order of my previous, boring, older woman's existence of work by day and telly by night. Or, as`Salma has the temerity to describe me, - " A Desperate Housewife with an obsession for Dr Who!"
Huh!
And it has been downhill ever since!
Every domestic rule discussed on health, safety and security principles has been earnestly agreed to................... and just as earnestly flouted! Every specific place for kitchen equipment etc, so that I can find it again, has been demonstrated, acknowledged ..............and ignored! I have tried the wagging finger until I now have an athritic joint. I have tried lecturing, demonstrating, sulking and cajoling..... all to no avail. Every serious attempt to establish ground rules has degenerated into giggles and hugs while sweeping aside the promise of dire consequences if they fail to comply.
I have even threatened an arranged marriage to my mystic son as an act of joint revenge.... and was dismayed by the level of enthusiasm for the idea.... by one of them at least!
I have now given in!
I am resigned to living in a home of unchanged beds with food-encrusted dishes in the sink, puddles on the bathroom floor and sticky keys on the lap-top and the cooker knobs and nothing is where it should be! But, hey!.... the food is great; the puddles present a gymnastic challenge to an aging hippy; the sticky keys still annoy and the beds are none of my business! Being of a Buddhist persuation, I know that this too shall pass and be of ultimately little account. I shall once again experience the peace, quiet and order of my previous, boring, older woman's existence of work by day and telly by night. Or, as`Salma has the temerity to describe me, - " A Desperate Housewife with an obsession for Dr Who!"
Huh!
I can't wait for the 4th of July and the sanity which will prevail! ??????????????
Where, then, the overwhelmingly heartening story of Salma overshooting her bus-stop as she entertained the passengers to the score of "The Sound of Music"?
Where, then, the experience of Maria taking a daft domestic turn at 2am and hoovering the entire flat to the consternation of residents and rats alike?
Where, then, the heart-breaking sharing of "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Khuda Kay Liye" until the early hours of the morning.
Where, then, the bewilderment of seeing, and envying, beautiful items of clothing and jewelry on a brightly clad young body........... only to gradually realise that they were mine!
Where, then, the witness of my grandchildren interacting with such ease and pleasure with such a vibrant group of young people who arrived believing that 'people in the west' do not love their children?
Where, then, the joy of seeing my two young guests welcoming, cooking for, and playing with, the children of a bewildered Iraqi family on their first night on Scottish soil and thereby expressing the best of Celtic Hospitality which is sacred to me.
Where, then, the offered cup of tea.... the massage...... the tasty tit-bit........the late-night confidencies sitting at the end of my bed................... the spontaneous hugs and kisses when I am remonstrating with them................
Yes, indeed! Life as I knew it will never be the same.
The highlights of the Gex85 visit are too numerous to mention, and all of them life-changing in a positive way.
Their first weekend marked the seventh anniversary of my daughter Gwen's passing which we marked with a life-enhancing party in her honour and attended by my beloved Indian son, Altaf, one of my first Gex guests. This was his third visit to Scotland which he considers his second home. Following the Gex experience in 2006, he graduated in Peace Studies from Bradford University and is currently living and working in Jordan with the UN where I hope to join him in August. He remarked on the energy and positive vibrancy of the current 85 group and was reluctant to leave, especially after the spontaneous game of cricket in Glasgow Green when Scotland gave Pakistan a thrashing!
BTW (I have footage of Maria, Salma and Altaf dynamically interacting with a giant foot in Bellahouston Park which I am prepared to sell to the highest bidder before I post it on UTube.)
My active involvement with the group has been hampered by a knee injury sustained trying to take photographs of Puffins on Staffa in May during my annual pilgrimage to Iona. But this did not prevent a wonderful weekend at my village home of Penpont with Deborah, Zaake and Raheel as well as Salma and Maria. This included 'hairdressing', rapid-running, pool-jumping, palm-reading and late-night-philosophy discussions against a background of the best of Scottish countryside complete with hills, woods, rivers and castles. The food wasn't bad either with the best of biryannis and home-made chapattis being spun in my wee kitchen. Sadly, none of this impressed my grandchildren who declined to consider Salma as a step-mother, and my sad, dejected son Richard has since joined a monastry!
Those unfamiliar with the irony and sarcasm of the Scottish sense of humour may conclude that the last two months have tested all involved to the limits. And to some extent, this is true. Our shared home has been like a microcosm of the world. A potential clash of generations, values, standards, abilities, principles, cultures, opinions, priorities and perceptions within which I admit to regularly assuming the "advantage" of seniority and ownership. But each time that I won my point, I lost the opportunity to see things anew. As the title of my piece suggests, I was gradually persuaded to let go of my need to keep order of both my household and their activites. They now run rings around me with total aplomb, having demonstrated over and over again that not only can they look after themselves in the wilds of city night-time, but they leave a lasting positive impression on all whom they meet. The bus drivers of Glasgow know Salma by name and Maria's smile could disarm the toughest street ned.
Both of my Pakistani daughters are a positive credit to their homes and families and have been constructive ambassadors for their country and culture in their placements and with the citizens of Glasgow at large. I have been bowled over by their intelligence and insight and know that many of the youth in my own country could learn much from their demeanour, decorum and modesty. The enthusiasm with which they relate the stories of the day, either from their placements, their social activities or street observations leave me both enriched and humbled.
Yes, my tough Scottish heart has to admit that a huge hole will be created when they leave me next week. I may have singularly failed to convert them to the philosophy of "a place for everything and everything in its place"........But I let them go, reluctantly, with the satisfaction that, many years hench, as they each try in vain to instruct offspring and daughters-in-law in the finer nuances of housekeeping, they will be haunted in their dreams by the image of an athritic wagging finger.
So...... go well my two beautiful bright butterflies. May your experience in Africa be as life-enhancing and humanly enriching as it was to me many years ago. May your intelligence, insight, and creativity find value in this troubled world. May your families and home communities recognise the role that you have played, and will continue to play, in the cause of deeper human understanding and reconciliation. May you take with you from Scotland a sense of the universality and interconnectedness of all of humanity, so well expressed by our immortal Bard, Robert Burns.
"Then let us pray, that come it may,
(As come it may, for a' that)
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the Earth
Shall bear the gree, an a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's comin' yet, for a' that.
That Man tae Man, the World o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that".
Bless you both, Salma and Maria, as you take your unique giftedness into the World. Enjoy your adventure with an eye on the far horizon, and the step ahead of you, too. May your path be ever illuminated by the one true Light. Know that you will ever occupy a very special place in my home, my heart and my family.
Haste ye back, ma bonny lassies.
Love and Peace..... Your Scottish Mum.....Buma XX
Where, then, the overwhelmingly heartening story of Salma overshooting her bus-stop as she entertained the passengers to the score of "The Sound of Music"?
Where, then, the experience of Maria taking a daft domestic turn at 2am and hoovering the entire flat to the consternation of residents and rats alike?
Where, then, the heart-breaking sharing of "Slumdog Millionaire" and "Khuda Kay Liye" until the early hours of the morning.
Where, then, the bewilderment of seeing, and envying, beautiful items of clothing and jewelry on a brightly clad young body........... only to gradually realise that they were mine!
Where, then, the witness of my grandchildren interacting with such ease and pleasure with such a vibrant group of young people who arrived believing that 'people in the west' do not love their children?
Where, then, the joy of seeing my two young guests welcoming, cooking for, and playing with, the children of a bewildered Iraqi family on their first night on Scottish soil and thereby expressing the best of Celtic Hospitality which is sacred to me.
Where, then, the offered cup of tea.... the massage...... the tasty tit-bit........the late-night confidencies sitting at the end of my bed................... the spontaneous hugs and kisses when I am remonstrating with them................
Yes, indeed! Life as I knew it will never be the same.
The highlights of the Gex85 visit are too numerous to mention, and all of them life-changing in a positive way.
Their first weekend marked the seventh anniversary of my daughter Gwen's passing which we marked with a life-enhancing party in her honour and attended by my beloved Indian son, Altaf, one of my first Gex guests. This was his third visit to Scotland which he considers his second home. Following the Gex experience in 2006, he graduated in Peace Studies from Bradford University and is currently living and working in Jordan with the UN where I hope to join him in August. He remarked on the energy and positive vibrancy of the current 85 group and was reluctant to leave, especially after the spontaneous game of cricket in Glasgow Green when Scotland gave Pakistan a thrashing!
BTW (I have footage of Maria, Salma and Altaf dynamically interacting with a giant foot in Bellahouston Park which I am prepared to sell to the highest bidder before I post it on UTube.)
My active involvement with the group has been hampered by a knee injury sustained trying to take photographs of Puffins on Staffa in May during my annual pilgrimage to Iona. But this did not prevent a wonderful weekend at my village home of Penpont with Deborah, Zaake and Raheel as well as Salma and Maria. This included 'hairdressing', rapid-running, pool-jumping, palm-reading and late-night-philosophy discussions against a background of the best of Scottish countryside complete with hills, woods, rivers and castles. The food wasn't bad either with the best of biryannis and home-made chapattis being spun in my wee kitchen. Sadly, none of this impressed my grandchildren who declined to consider Salma as a step-mother, and my sad, dejected son Richard has since joined a monastry!
Those unfamiliar with the irony and sarcasm of the Scottish sense of humour may conclude that the last two months have tested all involved to the limits. And to some extent, this is true. Our shared home has been like a microcosm of the world. A potential clash of generations, values, standards, abilities, principles, cultures, opinions, priorities and perceptions within which I admit to regularly assuming the "advantage" of seniority and ownership. But each time that I won my point, I lost the opportunity to see things anew. As the title of my piece suggests, I was gradually persuaded to let go of my need to keep order of both my household and their activites. They now run rings around me with total aplomb, having demonstrated over and over again that not only can they look after themselves in the wilds of city night-time, but they leave a lasting positive impression on all whom they meet. The bus drivers of Glasgow know Salma by name and Maria's smile could disarm the toughest street ned.
Both of my Pakistani daughters are a positive credit to their homes and families and have been constructive ambassadors for their country and culture in their placements and with the citizens of Glasgow at large. I have been bowled over by their intelligence and insight and know that many of the youth in my own country could learn much from their demeanour, decorum and modesty. The enthusiasm with which they relate the stories of the day, either from their placements, their social activities or street observations leave me both enriched and humbled.
Yes, my tough Scottish heart has to admit that a huge hole will be created when they leave me next week. I may have singularly failed to convert them to the philosophy of "a place for everything and everything in its place"........But I let them go, reluctantly, with the satisfaction that, many years hench, as they each try in vain to instruct offspring and daughters-in-law in the finer nuances of housekeeping, they will be haunted in their dreams by the image of an athritic wagging finger.
So...... go well my two beautiful bright butterflies. May your experience in Africa be as life-enhancing and humanly enriching as it was to me many years ago. May your intelligence, insight, and creativity find value in this troubled world. May your families and home communities recognise the role that you have played, and will continue to play, in the cause of deeper human understanding and reconciliation. May you take with you from Scotland a sense of the universality and interconnectedness of all of humanity, so well expressed by our immortal Bard, Robert Burns.
"Then let us pray, that come it may,
(As come it may, for a' that)
That Sense and Worth, o'er a' the Earth
Shall bear the gree, an a' that.
For a' that, an' a' that,
It's comin' yet, for a' that.
That Man tae Man, the World o'er
Shall brithers be for a' that".
Bless you both, Salma and Maria, as you take your unique giftedness into the World. Enjoy your adventure with an eye on the far horizon, and the step ahead of you, too. May your path be ever illuminated by the one true Light. Know that you will ever occupy a very special place in my home, my heart and my family.
Haste ye back, ma bonny lassies.
Love and Peace..... Your Scottish Mum.....Buma XX
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