A Piece Of Cardboard

It happened yesterday, and made getting asleep so very difficult that I had to write about it this morning … to someone.

Leaving the local Superstore, I was confronted by a woman sitting on a low wall looking quite sad.  She was colourfully well-dressed, complete with a hijab, and seemed healthy.  I was surprised, not so much by the Islamic dress, but by a an old piece of cardboard that she was holding tightly in front of her, upon which was written, “I AM POOR GIVE ME MONEY”.  I experienced the proverbial ‘double-take’ … and walked away.

That’s why I had difficulty sleeping — not because of the hijab (known to be worn by some Christians also) but because she was a Muslim and, therefore, without a doubt, a refugee … and ... I walked away.

I needed answers.  Why, on a cold November day, did she need to sit outside the Superstore, apparently ignored by most people?  Why didn’t she visit the local mosque and talk to a charitable imam.  The government gives welfare cheques to all refugees, why is it insufficient (It is greater than my pension)?  Does she have a husband who demands more money?

So many embarrassing questions that need to be addressed.

NB.  It must be noted that, personally, I have some acceptance of Canada’s refugee policies … it is illegal immigrants that make me extremely angry (whatever their ethnic origin).  Just saying.

Immigration 4 - Assimilation

I’ve wanted to write this for some time.  Ever since I realized that my posts were becoming rants.

I’m a nice guy.  Really.  And I feel that I know something about fundamental Islam (I’ve lived and worked in Islamic countries).

Fortunately, I am an immigrant who became a citizen ... and I use the word ‘fortunately’, wisely.

It was easier for me to assimilate into Canadian culture, although I don’t usually like to get up on a Sunday morning and drive, half asleep, to a restaurant for ‘brunch’, eh.

But, now, I find myself frustrated by misunderstood Muslims who exacerbate the Islamic Problem.

This isn’t about hate.  Buddhism taught me that ... Christianity too.  It is about assimilation.

Let me conjure up a common scene for you:

A city center on a sunny weekend.  Any large city in Canada (This could also apply, for example, in the U.K. or the U.S.).

Imagine being able to stand in a prominent position overlooking the scene.

Now, scan the crowd and identify a French Canadian.  Possible?  No.

Ok, try to identify an Italian Canadian, a Korean Canadian, or a Mexican Canadian.  Impossible.  Right?

Now, try to identify a Muslim Canadian.  Oh, wow!  That’s easier than eating strawberry ice cream.

But it’s not about numbers.  It doesn’t matter if there are 25 or 25,000, they are identifiable, and it’s got nothing to do with religion.  The Qu’ran demands only that they should dress “modestly”.  Just like my mother, I suppose.

In my opinion, it’s about the Muslims misinterpreted belief that they are different.  That a world defined by Sharia law would be perfection.  Quiet, moderate, Muslims do not loudly decry the Islamic inspired atrocities because they are patiently ... waiting.

Actually, back in the city center, there are a few young Muslims who look like other Canadians but, unfortunately, they are too afraid to be identified by demanding that their imams teach assimilation and not contradistinction ... hopefully, in one of the two official languages.

Is it enough to just simply "hope"?

Religion 5 - A Question of Hypocricy

I have just written a comment in a well-known magazine and, for the first time, cannot resist posting that same comment here.

Two, seemingly well-organized, French terrorists are on the run (At the time of writing).  But, usually, every criminal makes a mistake, and it is likely that these two will also have made a mistake (Assuming that the police have identified them correctly).

Enough (almost) has been written about the fanatical belief of most Muslims to adhere to the assumed words of their Prophet.  Therefore, it seems quite obvious to me that many (more than we imagine) know the two men concerned, but will sympathize with their terrible actions, and will not reveal their whereabouts.

Yet, every time there is a murderous terrorist incident, most Muslims around the globe, from the Imams to the small man and woman in the street can be heard to say, "We do not condone these terrorist actions".  Yet, I repeat, many know the two men involved.  Therefore, are they actually saying, "We do not condone these specific terrorist actions ... but infidels must be eliminated somehow".

It will be interesting to discover, when (if) these men are caught, if it will be the result of information from the tight-knit Muslim community.  Otherwise, the word hypocrite must be applied ... in the form of satire, perhaps.

Travel 5 - South East Asia (Bangladesh)

The 1:00 AM arrival, from China, at Hazrat Shahjalal International Airport in Dhaka, Bangladesh, was my worst airport experience ever.  Travel agencies indicate accurately that one can obtain a Visa on Arrival at the airport, but nothing is said about the inability to obtain Bangladesh taka at any currency exchange outside the country.  Therefore, at 1:00 AM, the main currency exchange point is closed ... and, thus, the great ‘red tape’ odyssey began.

More than one hour later, I exited Immigration control, found my suitcase, and walked outside to be greeted by a huge number of aggressive taxi hustlers, not to mention the residual humidity and high temperature.  Eventually, I met the driver sent to take me to the foreign teachers residence ... another 45 minutes.

Arriving at the residence, I was met by a tall, muscular, bare-chested, eunuch-looking porter, who carried my heavy suitcase up three flights of stairs.  The apartment had two en-suite bedrooms, occupied by two nursing teachers, and one spare room for me.  Thus, my outside bathroom contained a ‘squat’ toilet and a cold bucket shower.  I just ‘crashed’ onto the bed for the remainder of the morning.

Next day, although having been advised to rest, I walked to the campus of the International University of Business, Agriculture and Technology (A fifteen-minute walk).  Rickshaws were available, but I was still trying to come to terms with the value of the taka (It seems that the rickshaw ride would cost approximately 20 cents Canadian).

Hey, taxi!

Then, I was met by the senior foreign teacher, the head of a Canadian-sponsored nursing faculty, who knew nothing about my terms of employment.

Eventually, I was introduced to the Vice-Chancellor, who explained that, although there was an English language faculty of 16 professors, there was not a specific English language programme.  He wanted to create a BA (Honors) programme as soon as possible but, at the moment, English was taught as a minor subject.  My task was to audit the English classes, both students and teachers, and produce a report providing advice for improving the teaching.

Excellent Students

The audit of English language classes concentrated on the teaching of oral English and, although there were instances when regular classes concentrated on the teaching of reading and writing, it was possible to observe teaching styles.  Readability of PowerPoint presentations was particularly interesting.

University Tagore Celebration

During this period, the university celebrated the anniversary of Rabindranath Tagore, a writer, poet, and composer, who won the first Nobel Prize for Literature for a non-European in 1913.  I was introduced as the guest of honor ... and it was.

Tagore Celebration Student Participants

I finished my report four weeks later and, although requested (invited) to stay and teach for the remaining four weeks, I found that the negative conditions found in my report were very difficult to overcome within the short period remaining.  Therefore, I did not hesitate to accept an invitation to move downtown to my friend’s apartment ... with its modern conveniences.

Relocating to the relatively modern down town area, nevertheless, had its drawbacks.  Although 90% of the population are Muslim, according to the Constitution it is a secular country, and it is not hard to imagine a mosque on (almost) every city block.  Normally, I could live with that, but this is the 21st century and the imams have discovered electronics (Loudspeakers).  Now, I could live with that too, if the range of sound from each mosque did not overlap, but they do and the sound of calls to prayer is similar to the echos of the Grand Canyon.  Of course, there will be at least one reader who will chide me for being critical of the traditions of another country.  Nevertheless, the reverberating sound of the calls outside one's bedroom window every (every) morning starting at 5:00 AM ... is extremely irritating.

Incidentally, another aspect of Bangladeshi life that will never be forgotten, is the low value of human life.  Every time I picked up a daily newspaper, I was astonished by the number of murders that were taking place every day (Every day).  There are two categories;  firstly the group attacks on males resulting from some petty street argument and, secondly, the 'honor' killings of females, more often than not, housemaids.  Then, only if reported, do the police become involved, but only to document the incident (Rarely is there a report of a conviction).  It is difficult not to mention religion in this context.

During my stay, my friend was required to attend a conference in Bangkok.  And as the hotel, etc., was paid for, it seemed natural that I should accompany her (Probably explained in part Travel 6).