it is becoming a little obsessive around here of late
just small things
they are black they fly and the bigger ones buzzzzzzz
depending on your level of zen and detachment it can be not noticeable mildly irritating or extremely.
out comes the pink swot and the death squad leaps into action rendering little squashed blobs all over the place.
where is the cleaner the one that is paid to follow on behind and put all these bodies into some sort of unmarked mass grave?
oh that’s right that’s me.
wow what a job description.
all manner of places I could finally gain employment.
probably with our current government even.
so much to cover up so many boats to hide so many planes taking off sending refugees back , back to something horrible and frightening something that they had hoped they had escaped from.
they don’t care if they go to a country that doesn’t speak their language or know their customs or eat their food?
it is about being safe
and now after their arduous journey of months and years our government returns them to the soil of their birth
such a bitter-sweet pill to swallow.
we could hope better times for them but what is hopeful about punishment torture jail homelessness and suffering.?
having recently bought one of those magnetic fly screens for the back door we are just a teeny bit taken with it.
John had observed that the flies would catch a ride in whenever someone went thru the doorway.
aah haa we can sort that and ordered the screen online arriving with its cutesy little owl magnets .
now we watch and watch some more.
it seems that all of a sudden the black bombers materialise zooming and buzzing around the house
and the obsession builds and we start to shore up our defences.
material is tacked onto the top of the door frame and the leather is replaced at the bottom of the door .
we are onto the smaller gaps John informs me today ,rather bravely I thought looking around at the extent of holes available,
or was it insanely?
have we finally tipped ?
for years flies came and went
some meeting the death squad others taking up the option of a bridging visa pending deportation.
that is also part of my job description.
I open the kitchen window and release them and yes maybe they do turn around and find another way in but maybe some go back to where they came from.
perhaps we have tipped over the edge and into free fall, into the wonderful world of white noise and nonsense where the most exciting part of our day is staring at our fly screen’s capacity to handle new arrivals and checking out all the other possible places they are getting in.
we follow up with strategy meetings plans and guidelines for a counter offensive. for our very own stop the ‘ ….. ……. ‘ program
but already I have blown that haven’t I when the major part of the program is secrecy. I should be keeping mum.
what the heck consider this a once a week briefing and I will lie to you and say no none flew past me today.
in the face of bold faced lies my friend what do we do?
perhaps we content ourselves with small obsessions snoozes on the couch and cups of tea
or we turn to a book and read the stories of real people
which is what I have done .
I have just finished “The People Smuggler” by Robin De Crespigny .
it is the story of Ali Al Jenabi and his family .
do yourself a great big favour and give it a go.
it is awesome. it is enlightening. it is high adventure drama and cruelty .
it is testament to the perseverance of love and the unquenchable capacity of spirit to keep on keeping on …against all odds .
how puny and disgusting authority looks against the rich depth of family love and spirit that flowers beneath the weight of their brute force.
I know everyone is always telling you to read this or watch that
and it is true that I have friends that say I can’t do it, I can’t read it.
‘it is beside my bed but I couldn’t get past his father beaten and his brother having his fingers chopped off in abu ghraib’, says Heather.
oh dear there is so much more than that .
it is at it most essential about love and how we will do anything anything at all good or bad for those that we hold dear.
this is humanity my friend and we are all part of this story.
will it change my world?
can I offer permanent residency to the black bombers?
can I ?
as John says we are not going to wake up tomorrow morning and everything will be lovely for everyone. it is not going to happen like that he tells me and he tells me again.
in the lounge room I hear the rustle of the green leaves getting out of the way and the fly swot slapping against the glass .
in the paddocks next door I hear the slasher/mulcher belching and bashing the up and coming wattle forest
out the back of the valley a fire has been rolling for several days and we can imagine the Tinpot fire brigade suited up and ten- fouring.
‘The People Smuggler’ is a journey I have never had to take but I know that in any moment we are only a breath away from loosing our own world.
if I thought this country was ready for truth love and compassion
I would say let us have Ali Al Jenabi for prime minister
but we’re not so I will go back to small noticings of small things
can you move the kettle over please love??
Yesterday Iwas a guest at the University of Wollongong Bega campus. I went there to read my previous blog ( Three men two rods and a packet of pilchards ) to a class of sociology students and discuss the issue of asylum seekers with them.
they clapped ,wasn’t that polite.
mostly they didn’t have a clue about the reality of the situation.
real people real lives.
the story is always worth knowing.
it can only make us better human beings.