Botched Serendipity

I wanted to be an artist. Well, forget be, I thought I was an artist back in Middle School. I figured I'd be one of those new-age-conceptual-art buffs that would make a very nothing notion into something mind boggling. Soon, I realized that "art" was indeed being able to paint or draw something that looked like... well, something! I'm no artist.

This morning, I was greeted with a barrage of the most random news ever. So, Oprah is quitting day-time television and coming out with her own channel. Fair enough, considering she's launched fools like Dr. Phil that, in stead of solving issues, are creating more. Then there's Dr. Oz. With a name like that, I find myself constantly knocking my patent-red mary-jane's together, in hopes of being transported on to his show. Then there's Rachel Ray. I don't think I disdain her like I do the other two. She makes cooking look easy. Maybe I'm sexist.

But the best news article has got to be the piece on "Optimism" in the subway. And I'm not talking food. Now, if you sprinkled a dash of optimism on my sandwich, I'd understand; get some of that in my system for sure. But printing it on my MetroCard which, lets face it, is exactly where I look to for some "serendipitous discovery," is pure genius!

What I want to know is what kind of drugs this artist is on. Wait, scratch that. What kind of drugs are those sad souls on that pay him $15 for 18 (wow) stickers that say "Optimism," which the website suggests you stick to leaves on your trees. They have feelings too. Because I'm sure that $15 couldn't be put to better use. Those chums that say a dollar-a-day could give some soul a college education are clearly mistaken as to the impact of a sticker. It will inspire your leaves to grow greener, despite the shade and the scorching heat. It'll make them want to defy photosynthesis and all that other scientific garb. Who needs that.

Officially, all the MTA is looking for is to "make a couple of customers smile a day, that’s nice." They know that all we look for in life is meaningless phrases, attached to even more meaningless articles that we stash away in the bottom of our purses, where we incidentally store that lint that we might need to knit ourselves something warm on a rainy day. Both essentially vital.

Reed Seifer, the brains behind this brilliance, was hoping that "maybe one day you just look and say, ‘Oh.’" That's really what Archimedes should have said. "Oh". But then again, discovering "optimism" means so much more than density. What is density anyway? I think I'm going to call Mr. Seifer and ask him to draw it out on a MetroCard for me.

The writer of the article that spurred my rant understands that "The word on the card can be read as an encouragement, a command, a taunt, an aspiration." Yes, because often I let my MetroCard talk smack to me. But the worst of all is that darned Credit Card. Just because it puts the whole world in my hands [I tried looking for the youtube link to the "you've got the whole world in your hands" Mastercard ad. I failed], it thinks it can say what it wants. Sometimes, I don't pay my bill to show him who the real Master is.

I was truly inspired when I heard how Mr. Seifer came up with this sheer genius. "Mr. Seifer was inspired by a maxim he found printed on a Domino’s sugar packet: “An optimist is someone who tells you to cheer up when things are going his way.”" Right, so when things are going my way, I'll tell you to suck it up. Deal with it. In yo' face foo'. But when they go your way, I say what? I'm a little confused. I think I need to look at my MetroCard one more time for inspirational clarity.

Its not just a word scribbled on a card. A lot of time and concentrated thought went into, for instance, deciding what font to use (yes, he settled for the most plane mundane one). But one thing he forgot about, silly Mr. Seifer, whilst designing his masterpiece, were the actual dimensions and physical characteristics of the card. "As he designed the card, Mr. Seifer said, he did not take into account the small hole punched along the left edge of every MetroCard. In a happy accident, the hole lined up perfectly with the word, becoming a kind of period." I love when my bothcery serendipitously culminates into a divine plan. Makes me feel, almost, prophetic.

Obama - The Nobleman

The Norwegian Nobel Committee awarded the Nobel Peace Prize for 2009 to President Barack Obama "for his extraordinary efforts to strengthen international diplomacy and cooperation between peoples. The Committee has attached special importance to Obama's vision of and work for a world without nuclear weapons." [emphasis added]

The Committee then lauds him for "negotiating" peace and nuclear disarmament, as the US President. I guess our President isn't the only sap mistaken as to the actual purpose of his job. It gets better, the Committee then says: "Thanks to Obama's initiative, the USA is now playing a more constructive role in meeting the great climatic challenges the world is confronting. Democracy and human rights are to be strengthened." Basically, they're just saying that Bush was a sun-of-a-gun that messed up the super power that the US once was, so now, we'll give you a nudge, a pat on the back and you can ride the bike on your own. Yay!!!

Personally, I think its a slap on the faces of all those honorable men and woman that busted their behinds and did what they did and were as a result appreciated with the Prize. Lets rehash some of the famous laureates and what they did:

Gorbachev ended a war and donned that map of a birthmark with grace; Anwar Al-Sadat negotiated the Isreal-Egypt peace treaty (which he was eventually assassinated for because lets face it, Islamists hate the Jew); Mother Teresa - well, her name alone now emanates holiness; the 14th Dalai Lama - he was holiness; Arther Henderson advocated disarmament as early as 1908 (so much for the "new international climate" Obama supposedly created); Nelson Mandela, besides working against the Apartheid, the guy served a 30 year prison sentence for being black; Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream and then he got shot; Yasser Arafat was possibly the only man to effectively do something about the Irael-Palestine conflict; Jane Addams: okay, so I don't really know what she did but I remember vaguely that she was the first woman to receive a Prize - It had something to do with women's rights issues I'm sure, and finally Woodrow Wilson created the League of Nations and all that jazz.

There's plenty more we've never heard of and probably never will, but they did something, they changed something and it wasn't because they were the first black president of the US. Its an achievement, but lets move on already!

Lets now revert to some of the organizations that received this award. These include the United Nations (Peace Keeping Forces and Commission for Refugees), Doctors Without Borders, Amnesty, UNICEF, ILO and the like. I'm sure Lehman Bros. could use a boost about now, how about handing the Prize to them this year? No? They helped us all "find ourselves" when we didn't have jobs.

A friend of mine semi-equated Obama to Jimmy Carter (another laureate). Sorry, love, not even close. Not only did Carter work for the Middle East through Egypt and Israel, he worked on the forgotten Latin American states such as Panama, which if I recall correctly, he suffers criticism for to date. What he has done with the Carter Center and what he continues to do today in his capacity as a citizen of the world, is unparalelled. Even the Obama's adopting Bo couldn't top that.

This time I agree with the Republicans. Obama did win because of his "star power". “To be honest,” the president said “I do not feel that I deserve to be in the company of so many of the transformative [seriously, O, is that even a word?!] figures who have been honored by this prize, men and women who’ve inspired me and inspired the entire world through their courageous pursuit of peace.” Hells yes you don't deserve it! The honorable thing would be to turn it down. That's when I'd stand in ovation for Barack. Le Duc Tho was awarded the Prize for "jointly negotiating the Vietnam Peace Accord" in 1973. He refused it because his country was still not at peace. That, president O, is how its done.

Obama said in his famous speech in Egypt: "I have come here to seek a new beginning between the United States and Muslims around the world; one based upon mutual interest and mutual respect..." Tell that to the drones. What he said at the United Nations recently was nothing new. Heads of states have been harping on about how important it is for everyone to be signatory to the NPT and disarmament is the only way forward. We have just become accustomed to glorifying Obama's every move, his every word. Don't get me wrong, I love the guy. I voted for him. But he is also the man that once said "I've now been in 57 states -- I think one left to go." - at a campaign event in Beaverton, Oregon.

So, yes, O, we're just as surprised as you are.

A Country Called Karachi

A dholki without a dholki, plain grey dilapidated cement monstrosities, random monuments of hands, street-signs painted across curbs and reek of the insides of a dead whale. Welcome to Karachi.

It seems the streets are always under construction and greenery is not an option. When asked, a native said that it didn't rain enough for the greens to stay green. I beg to differ... It doesn't rain at all in the UAE, its still lush and bright. Also, it rains plenty. See: The News on people swimming to work and at work.

When driving down one of those awe-inspiring flyovers, I noticed driving instructions and street-signs painted on the boundary walls. Seeing how Urdu is written right to left and we're traveling from left to right, reading those while attempting to drive can be quite daunting, at least for infidels such as myself that have risen from The Punjab. Maybe Karachiites are more educated. Maybe this is just another road hazard waiting for its prey. Either way, whose brilliant idea was that?

As for street signs in Defense and other areas, they were the same color, etc. as advertisements for some donation scheme as well. "Khayban-e-Something to the Left" and right under it "Donate a book". Another confusion is that Karachi doesn't realize that the world counts as follows "1, 2, 3, 4, 5..." The concept of "3" is lost, at least in the "planning" of Defense - the poshest of posh neighborhoods.

Fauzia showed me these wide array's of concrete with slashes in them which were meant to be rain drains. How do they work? The district government sends water-suction-tank-things at night (inspired by the tooth-fairy) and while you sleep, the water disappears. Miraculous, really.

Forget appearances (or the fact that you can't just turn on a tap and get water, you need someone to come fill the tank biweekly... And its a coastal city), I mean its unfair to judge the book by its cover. I blame the shift of the capital from Karachi to Islamabad for the bad state the city's in. Its like the neglected middle child. Poor soul, I feel your pain. The people: don't get me wrong, a whole bunch of my close friends are from this Country, but they may very well be exceptions to the case. Karachi is full of wanna-be-farangi's. There, I said it. Raised in a pretty burger environment myself, I've been accused of the same many-a-time. However, Punjabi's are pretty paindoo at heart. As Fauz would say "you can take the girl out of Punjab, but you can't take the Punjab out of the girl!" And we're proud of it!

I was there for a wedding... Firstly, life comes at Karachiites pretty late. So, events that are bound to kick off around 10 p.m. PST in Lahore, are only beginning to take shape around midnight in Karachi. So when you send out an invite for Thursday, expect people to show up on Friday, early morning. Dates can be so confusing. Obviously it is of little consequence that the next day is in fact a working day. Maybe that's why we moved our capital. Either way, I now understand why we're suffering financially as a country and it has a simple solution, we need to move our commercial hub out of Karachi.

But I will say this, Karachi doesn't mess with its food. Although Punjab is known for its food and lavish spread, Karachi does complete justice to the edibles. That's all I can think of that would link them to the rest of Pakistan. Not to sound ungrateful, I was well hosted (as always) and everyone was more than hospitable, so thank you! But, Karachi so queer! I was less culturally shocked when I moved Stateside!

I must end with these wise words: Lahore Lahore Hai!

Wimbledon Wedgies

Tennis is no longer just about the game, the passion for it or the technique used. Your panache is defined by your sponsor. Simple example, Federer at Wimbledon. When Nike designed his blazer (monogrammed with the "RF" we all know too well), his slacks and waistcoat for the last Wimbledon, one would think Fed is taking the game old school. Every year, as much as tennis fans await the results of the finals, they await Roger's wardrobe (we all remember the Tuxedo look from the 2008 US Open). He has everything down, from his floppy hair, sitting perfectly across his neatly tied bandanna, to the heels of his shoes, embroidered with stars equaling the number of titles won at the All England Club and his "RF". This year, he even jazzed things up with a golden/white belt. Yes, a belt on shorts. Who would've thought.

Fans were more than disappointed when Nadal switched from his tight capri's (which many thought were the reason for his constant state of wedgie-ness, alas, we were wrong) and his sleeve-less shirts showing off his perfectly carved biceps; to a more "mature" look with the regular shorts and t-shirts. Hurmph, so much for individuality.

Its easy to say that Federer shall always remain the best dressed tennis player of his time, on court and off (having sponsors like Rolex, NetJets and Mercedes can only help), but the title for the women is not so black and white. Sharapova and Jancovic are always a safe bet, but this year at Flushing Meadows, Flavia Pennetta (ITA) [10] was safely the best dressed on court. Her simple white dress with neat straight lines, designed by Sergio Tacchini clearly stood her apart.

But forget the fashionista players for a moment and lets focus on the court staff. From the line men and women to the chair umpires and the ball boys, all are draped in the tournaments sponsor. This year, Ralph Lauren took the US Open a step too far. Ordinarily, Ralph dresses the staff of Wimbledon and the US Open, while Lacoste carries the Australian and French. Wimbledon being the classic is always very tastefully managed. But that by no means requires the US Open to be that much more trashy. Ralph Lauren has been admired for years for its simple image that didn't splatter its name all over you so you feel like a billboard. This year Ralph threw up all over the place. The magnified image of the Polo monogram, plastered on the front and the back, on court staff uniforms are an eyesore, to say in the least. Not to mention these shirts are going at $125 a piece. Satan does, indeed, work in mysterious ways.

Whacky Idea

I got a call from work around 10 a.m.wondering if I was coming into work. Considering we start at 8:30 (Ramadan timings), I was insanely late. However, this beautiful morning I had a legit reason, an excuse if you will: a meeting at our esteemed Labor Department, "City District Government, Hakoomat-e-Pakistan". Pft.

I left my house to drive down to Muslim Town. Now, my grandparents lived in the neighborhood years ago and I spent most of my childhood there, so I was a little familiar with the area. However, little did I know, it was a world on its own. Since I've started working in Defence, my interaction with varied forms of being has been restricted. I live in a bubble. People on the street sent me in opposite directions when I enquired as to where my destination lay. Twisted entertainment they have.

Anyways, I arrive there around 9-something and that's when my meeting is supposed to be, something o' clock. When I enquired about the Director, Nasrullah Sahib, I was informed that he wasn't in yet, but I could meet with Mr. X. When I went down to look for X, I was told he had surgery and was in the hospital. You'd hope your colleagues would know that! So I make my way back up to Mr. Nasrullah's office and am then passed on to Mr. Y. When they realized that Mr. Y was also not in yet, they sent me to Mr. Z. Please note, at this point I had explained my query/issue a whole of three times and had to explain that I indeed was a lawyer and employed by Kansai, and yes, I had graduated and how sweet of them to think I look too young. In the words of Bee: Disgusterz.

When neither X, Y or Z were there, they decided to allow me to leave and come back another time, when Nasrullah was in fact at work. Now having exercised all patience I possessed, I called the guy (who hadn't answered his phone the 5 times I tried before) and said something to the effect of: "Yo, you said come at 9, its 11 and now I'm expected to leave and return to Neverland another time? I have a life!" (reiterating to meaningless others that I have a life somehow makes me feel like its true).

As I got up to leave, gathering my files, the personal assistant to Nasrullah came running towards me (he was initially the jerk that thought it a good idea to pass me from X to Y to Z) saying "Madam (which I hate, because it makes me sound like a pimp) aap ne batayaa kyon nahin keh aap kinza paint say aayi hain?" Yeah, sure, like he knows a Kinza Paint and like KANSAI is that big a deal to begin with. Anyways, so he sits down with me, appologizes that his boss won't be making it in today and that he was there to assist in any way possible.

After explaining, again, how I had actually graduated college and then law school and then grad school, and that indeed I did work for Kinza a.k.a Kansai (my business card was not proof enough, interrogation is necessary... This is, after all, a branch of the Hakoomat-e-Pakistan) the guy gave me the information I needed. Then he congratulated me on getting so far in life at such a young age and explained how he was sending his own daughter to college. As long as she doesn't have to work for the Hakoomat, good for her.

In all, the work got semi-done around 11:20, two hours after having reached there for a task that ought not have taken longer than 20 minutes, tops. I'm a little glad that I went... I think Defence is making me soft... But what a way to start my day. Of course, I was greeted back at the office by everyone glaring at me, assuming (and I wasn't bothered enough to correct) that I was just sauntering in to work around noon because I slept in.

Whose whacky idea was law school, anyway?

As Cincy Approaches...

Murray, having overstepped Nadal on Sunday by 500-something points (partially due to the fact that he played two extra tournaments this year) lands him about 2,000 points behind Federer. With the 1000 Masters already kicking off in Cincinnati and rumors suggesting Federer might not play, it might leave Murray a little closer to Fed, that is if he can surpass Nadal again (this is the only 1000 Masters Nadal hasn't contested the final for). That said, its hard courts season, meaning anyone can turn the tables with a hard hitting forehand and smashing serves.

But lets focus on the last two games of this Series. Obvious contenders:

Andy Roddick: You can't help but feel sorry for him after his tragic defeat in Wimbledon and the weeks to follow. He's complained about the U.S. Series, pulling out the old “That’s just, you know, at the height of not using common sense.” Ok, so he's not the most eloquent of the lot, but he's referring to the fact that the type of balls used are changed in every tournament. Granted, it sounds inconsequential, but its really not when you're serving between 122-132 mph. Roddick, the new American favorite, is hoping to heir Sampras (a little late for that) and Agassi; and will definitely enjoy home-ground advantage. This is also the best Roddick has played since 2004, when he happily settled at No. 2. He wins some 90% of his service games, but that's no reason he shouldn't be working on his return. However, all said and done, he's matured in his game, in his stamina for longer rallies and his general state of mind (the way he took his defeat in Wimbledon, despite the fact that Federer just got lucky); an applause is well deserved.

Rafa: After he missed (or rather was missed) at Wimbledon with his tendinitis, Rafa returned in complete form, hitting the ball whilst running and sliding (which on a hard court isn't humanly possible, so we thought) and gliding his shots into position. He's always someone to watch for. His unexpected early departure from Montreal left us craving more, but more he shall undoubtedly give. If not here, definitely at Flushing Meadows, where everyone ups their game.

Murray: Cincinnati promises to be tough on Murray, as his body seemed to be giving in at the end of his final in Montreal. If he manages to cling to his position at No. 2 a little longer, New York promises to be that much more exciting.

Cincinnati ending on the 23rd of August and the Grand Slam starting barely a week later, this ought to be a great end to the month. Its never been this unpredictable. Already at the Western & Southern Financial Group Masters: Karlovic has defeated Monfils, Ferrero (sadly) is on his way out, giving way to Cilic, Andreev beat Keifer 6-1, 7-5 and Lubicic, Ferrer and Safin are all on to the next round.

Only Andre Agassi, Pat Rafter, and Andy Roddick have won the Canadian and Cincinnati Masters back-to-back. But come New York, the tables will turn as they always do in a Grand Slam, leaving Fed and Rafa untouchable. But how Federer has been playing (or generally not playing) seems to reflect badly on his game as a whole, possibly resulting in my dream come true and Safin taking up a final title as he gracefully exists the game *sigh*. But if Federer regains consciousness, he will set another record, six consecutive US Opens. Is Nike is working on that jacket?

Dear Prudence

Sparked by Dino's interest in the matter, and his question as to whether Freedom of Expression was indeed a part of Islam, I decided to write the following:

The incident in Gojra last week finally brought about a much needed review of our Criminal Code. A layman's understanding of the law is that if someone talks ill of the Prophet or of Islam (which is usually demonstrated by "desecration" of the Qur'an), living in the Islamic Republic, they could be sentenced to death. I don't know what Articles 19 and 20 of the Constitution signify, but then again, its the Constitution, its not set in stone!

Generally, Muslims throughout the world have had little tolerance for anything said against our Prophet. My favorite Hadith [traditions or sayings of the Prophet] goes something like this:

The Prophet and his friend Abu Bakr were walking by this village when this man came up to the Prophet and started yelling, cursing and slandering him. He yelled and cursed and slandered. The Prophet just stood silently listening to everything the man said, saying nothing because he knew that his claims were unsubstantiated, as did the man making them. Some minutes later, Abu Bakr got furious and started talking back to this man. That very instant the Prophet walked away. Abu Bakr questioned this, saying that the Prophet stood around to hear the other man bad mouth him but the moment Abu Bakr responded, he walked off. The Prophet said that as long as he was silent, Angels were answering the man for me, and when Abu Bakr started speaking, the Angels left, and so did the Prophet.

I don't know what everyone else gets from that, but it teaches me that you don't have to have the last word. Its tough, but its the truth. Remember; "if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all"?

Pakistani jurisprudence, lacking all prudence, has never been the benchmark for the Shariah [Islamic Law]. Much like the ordeal with the Hadood Ordinance covering the Zina laws the blasphemy laws were included in Pakistan's Criminal Code by General Zia in the 1970's. As is the situation today, religion was used as a tool to herd the masses into agreement with the government. As is the situation today, Islam is considered esoteric.

Today, the blasphemy laws are used to take over land of Non-Muslims. A Muslim screams "desecration" and the Non-Muslim (read: Christian) will be put behind bars for a year to life, conveniently leaving his land up for grabs.

Section 295 of the Pakistan Criminal Code forbids damaging or defiling a place of worship or a sacred object. 295-A forbids outraging religious feelings; 295-B forbids defiling the Quran and 295-C forbids defaming the Prophet. Except for Section 295-C (defaming the Prophet), the provisions of 295 require that an offence be committed with intent (which my lawyer friends appreciate, is tough). Defiling the Quran merits imprisonment for life. Defaming Prophet Muhammad merits death with or without a fine, with or without intent.

We all remember protests lead throughout the Muslim world with the advent of the infamous Danish Cartoons. Contrary to Islams' call to peace and tolerance, we as Muslims took to the streets and demonstrated just what the cartoons were portraying; that we are violent people. The world knows Islam for the way it sees Muslims today behave. If all they see is violent "protests" and harming your neighbors to take their land, then they'll think that it is a part and parcel of our religion and the teachings of the Prophet. Examples of our Good Samaritan are few and far between, well, at least in the media which is quick to uncover our "extremists."

I have yet to find the passage in the Qur'an that calls me to "punish thine neighbor for views contrary to yours, oh and take his sheep while you're at it." Time and again God asks Muslims to be patient, to respect your neighbor, protect him and if you find yourself in company that is talking ill of your religion, your beliefs, leave their company and only return when they speak of other matters [See Qur'an 2:104 and 6:68]. Oh, and leave his sheep be.

Internally Displaced in Swabi

July 21, 2009

Nasrin, a mother of three and a sewing teacher at the Camp, had walked from Mangora with her family. She thought she had lost her son, Zarak, a four-year-old with Bambi-eyes, huge dimples, cheeks burnt pink and short dark hair cut bluntly across his forehead. She found him again amongst the stream of people relentlessly flowing in the same direction. When Nasrin left her home in Mangora, she didn’t know where her mother and sister, Rozina, were. They’d find one another 25 days later at this very camp.

The Shah Mansoor Camp for the Internally Displaced Persons (IDPs) in Swabi is set up and run by the Pakistan Red Crescent Society (PRCS) in collaboration with the International Red Cross. 2,400 tents, housed 15,211 people. That's fifteen thousand, two hundred and eleven; 12,211 more than it was intended for. It’s not just a number.

The IDPs aren’t technically refugees because they haven’t crossed a geographical border but that technicality does not render their plight any less severe. These people walked about 30 miles over mountainous terrain, some without shoes, to live in these non-refugee camps. They left their homes with no more than the clothes on their backs, which could be a problem in itself when you’re sitting in 119 degree weather when you're used to (and dressed for) a maximum of 50.

Residents of Mangora and other villages in the region were caught between the cross-fire of the army and the Taliban. Since the Pakistani Government had allowed the Taliban to impose the Shariah (literally “the way,” used to define Islamic Law) in the North West Frontier Province (NWFP) of Pakistan, the Taliban became “power hungry,” as women in the camp described it. “They want to spread their Shariah to Islamabad and the army wants them out. We’re the ones that get caught in their exchange,” explained Sultana, another resident of the Camp and mother of nine, her ninth born at the Camp. When the mosques sounded an unfamiliar announcement calling for evacuation, people left behind their lives, their homes, trinkets and heirlooms. As they trekked to these camps, there were people handing out water, like in a marathon, and others offering rides in their cars and mini-vans. Most had now been living, families consisting of up to 12 members, in one tent with one fan, one mattress and a water-cooler, for two months.

Thankfully, these camps are equipped with a surprising variation of amenities. There are mosques, schools, medical facilities, community centers, water filtration plants, psycho-social support teams, coordinated activities for children, vocational training camps and community kitchens, among other things. Still, when they have to sleep head to toe, at least six to a 9 foot tent, they said they’d rather die with dignity in their homes than wither like a stray leaf in the heat.

Many are extremely grateful to the Government for all that they had provided them. The land on which these camps are situated and the electric and water supplies are all donated by the Government of NWFP; everything else is arranged by the PRCS through private donations collected from within Pakistan. During the day, men sit around their community centers while women teach, learn and cook. The camps used to provide cooked meals up until a week ago. A week ago announcements were made for certain areas that were cleared for return. That’s also when the electric and water supplies started to dwindle. Funny how that worked out. Buner was the first place to be declared safe for return. It was declared unsafe to hold local elections on the same day. I guess it’s just not politically safe yet.

Nasrin and Rozina left the Camp on the 19^th of July, with their families, to return to the remnants of their home in Mangora. Two days later news came that Mangora was in fact not safe for return (oops) and that people were stranded on some bridge, between the camp and Mangora village. Their phone is unreachable.

The headlines of the news each day celebrate how many IDPs have returned home. One wonders if they will actually reach there or last there. And those that do in fact get to go home, would their houses be there. How they’ll rebuild their lives? Is it even safe to be there?

What a tale they’ll have to tell their grandchildren, “I was born in a tent, in the middle of a desert, surrounded by 15,211 people. I felt loved.”