Today I am in Boston on the way to Block Island to visit my granddaughters. It is springtime and the blossoms are out. Photos from Appleton Street beside the Berkeley Residence Hotel, very two-star but adequate, quiet and near the Amtrak at Back Bay. Not too much lugging cases involved.
I do feel lucky to have such an accidental roving life. I didn’t have to become a war correspondent or a live on the hoof travel writer to get the chance to experience so many different parts of the world.
Now I am thinking most of the world’s people are not anything like lucky, though I suppose some of it is an attitude of mind, some of it is definitely not. There is such a thing as a hard life [poem here]. I have seen it first hand at home and also I have recently been involved with a charity, FROK, which stands for Friends of Kwendo Kor, KK . That stands for “Sisters Home” in pashto, the language of NW Pakistan. Hear about them here.
Human Rights, Women’s Rights, Children’s Rights have to be fought for. KK is there making change in Pakistan, one of the most impoverished regions in the world. Look them up, but beware, doing so might need a health warning as it knocks you right out of your comfort zone. Rights, like to vote, to worship or not as one wishes, to be safe from heedless or needless harm, were fought for in the countries called First World, and that not so very long ago. They are not well established anywhere. For instance, it comes to light that the UK has been involved in extraordinary rendition very recently. What on earth is ‘extraordinary rendition’ why use words like that? It means taking away people’s rights to justice, open and seen to be done, it harms our rights too, not just the unfortunates who are rendered. [if that is the passive of the act].
The question I have great trouble with: How do I fight?