All posts tagged: Life

Teaching on the wrong side of town

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I was teaching today. I am what they call in the States a “supply teacher” or a “substitute teacher” here, in Northern Ireland. I get phone calls in the evening or even early in the morning, mainly from primary schools and go in when a teacher is sick or on a training course. Today it was a secondary school, for a change. A couple of years ago I had the privilege to work with some great kids there, from Thailand, Malaysia, India and China, who needed a bit of practice and encouragement with their English.  Today I wasn’t so privileged and had a battle on my hands with every new class who walked through the door. It wasn’t me they were fighting but the institution I represented, the authority they wanted to usurp from their lives because it doesn’t stand for anything meaningful to them.  They don’t see the point in studying and considering their backgrounds, I don’t blame them, really. For many of them, the sense of twisted peer  recognition coming from mocking everything …

Promised Book Reviews

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A Thousand Splendid Suns, by Khaled Hosseini and Harmattan, by Gavin Weston Okay, so chronologically these are not my two most recent readings. I finished Harmattan today but I can’t remember how long it’s been since I read A Thousand Splendid Suns. These days I recall events as “before and after the move” so I am sure I read it last year before October, before we moved to this part of Northern Ireland. Similarities? Both stories take place in the Muslim world (Afghanistan for A Thousand Splendid Suns, Nigeria for Harmattan), in countries ridden by war, poverty, and death. Both novels revolve around young girls whose lives are maimed by their unfortunate circumstances: war and the Afghan society’s prejudices in Mariam’s case; illness and the Nigerian society’s inability to look after its innocents, in Haoua’s case. In both cases, the girls are left without their mothers’ tender presence and vigilant protection from a young age, to the mercy of ruthless, uncaring, selfish fathers who perceive them as offsprings, but not as in the definition “a …

Home is where your heart is…

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Today we decided, spur of the moment, to drive back to our old church in Carrickfergus. I have been missing everybody there and hubby knows it so he actually suggested it. That it was good to be back is an understatement. Our old church is a small but loving community and it welcomed us back in its midst immediately and unconditionally. It was wonderful to hear the older ladies saying sweet, heartfelt things like: “Welcome home!” and “You’ve been dearly missed!” Mind you, my own grannies died when I was young so these ladies have been the closest thing to the real thing for me. I have been to women’s weekends with them and I have grown to respect and appreciate their sharp sense of humour, honesty, love for God and genuineness. How did it feel? Well, like home, like we belong there, like we never left. I haven’t experienced this sense of grace very often in my life. Not even when we visit our own families. It’s much more complicated than this actually because …