Festival of cultures

Yesterday we spent a happy few hours at the Palmerston North Festival of Cultures, eating curries and fish balls and dutch pancakes, watching dancers and musicians of various cultures and shopping for jewellery and crafts. The festival is “is a celebration of Palmerston North’s richness and diversity of cultures and is a great opportunity for new refugees and migrants to have a sense of place, feel connected and have a sense of belonging“.  I’ve been guilty of being somewhat derogatory about this city at times, but events like this make me pround of my ‘adopted’ home.  Looking around people from such a variety of cultures enjoying the day together, I wondered why it is that this kind of atmosphere of peace and happiness seems so difficult to achieve on larger regional and global levels.

(pictures shamelessly ‘borrowed’ from the Festival website)

Filed under: Thoughts, life, refugees , Festival of Culture, Palmerston North

Fresh Perspectives

Obviously I am not doing very well at posting on this blog at the moment-  with family, work, research proposals and another small writing project I have committed to, blogging has ended up way down the list of priorities.  However in order to keep some interest in this blog (both for me and for readers) I thought I would post a great link with some amazing photos.

Panos pictures is “a London-based independent photo agency representing photojournalists worldwide. Our photographers document issues and geographical areas which are under-reported, misrepresented or ignored. In a media climate dominated by celebrity and lifestyle Panos aims to provide fresh perspectives on the world.”

Here are a couple of photos from “Climate Wars”, a collection of photos from refugee camps in the Sudan.  A sad indictment on the state of our world- there are many heartbreaking pictures, yet here we still see joy in children’s faces.

Filed under: Africa, blogging, children, life, news, poverty, refugees, social justice , Panos photos, photojournalism, Sudan

A horribly complex issue

This morning I attended a workshop on FGM (Female Genital Mutilation or “female circumcision”). We care for a lot of refugees at the health centre where I work, including a significant number from Somalia and other African countries where FGM is practised, and so although it is uncommon and illegal here it is something we do see regularly and need to know about.

Female genital mutilation (FGM), often referred to as ‘female circumcision’, comprises all procedures involving partial or total removal of the external female genitalia or other injury to the female genital organs whether for cultural, religious or other non-therapeutic reasons. (WHO)

Girls usually undergo FGM prior to puberty- the average age is 6-8.  While it is increasingly done by health professionals under local anaesthetic, in rural areas it is still carried out without anaesthetic, with scissors, razor blades or knives while the girl is held down by female relatives.  In the short term the girl may experience excrutiating pain, shock infection, haemorhage, urinary retention and fractures.  But it doesn’t end there.  Long term issues caused by FGM include difficulty passing urine, pelvic infections, scars, cysts, fistulae, difficulties with menstruation, increased risk of HIV transmission, sexual complications, childbirth complications and negative psychosocial impacts.
While the physical trauma that girls go through is horrendous and quite harrowing to contemplate, what I found most disturbing was the psycho-social issues they face, the fact that even in New Zealand women see the pain and long term complications of FGM as preferable to the socially ostracised life they and thier daughters would lead without it.

FGM is a complex multifaceted practice deeply rooted in a strong cultural and social framework. It is endorsed by the community and supported by loving parents with what is believed to be the best interests of a young girl at heart. FGM can only be understood within its cultural context, for in the societies where it is practised — despite its harmful physical affects — FGM provides women with many social and cultural benefits…

Whether the practice is shrouded in rituals and celebrations, or whether it involves a visit to the local midwife, FGM is an integral part of a girl’s social development. The practice is deeply embedded in the social norms of the community and there is immense social pressure on all young girls to conform. A girl who does not undergo FGM is likely to be severely socially penalised, and is often despised, taunted, ostracised and made the target of ridicule. No one in her community may want to marry her, and what is clearly understood to be her life’s work — marriage and childbearing — will be denied her.

For a woman living in a patriarchal society with no access to land or education and no effective power base, marriage is her main means of survival and access to resources — and FGM is her pre-requisite for marriage. With the beliefs surrounding FGM deeply embedded from childhood, the social approval associated with FGM and the sanctions women face if they don’t undergo FGM — the benefits of FGM would seem to outweigh the physical difficulties. FGM is inevitably viewed in a very positive light and this can explain why women continue to cling to the tradition, colluding in their own daughters’ circumcision.  (fgm.co.nz)

It makes me incredibly sad and angry that women and girls are faced with these kinds of realities. I have the utmost of admiration both for the women who live daily with the impacts of FGM on thier physical and psychological health, and for those who have taken the huge step of refusing to have thier daughters circumcised.

Filed under: Africa, health, refugees, social justice , female circumcision, female genital mutilation, FGM

Perspective

I had seriously intended to write a “woe is me” post today.  I was going to list all the crap things that have happened to me and my family lately- Dad’s heart attack, my husbands health problems, our daughter not sleeping, money issues, car troubles… it really has been quite the month and I felt a need to get it off my chest.

But today kind of put all that in perspective.

We had a training session at work on refugees and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Our health centre provides care to a significant proportion of the refugees settled in Wellington.  I see refugees every day I work, for health checks, vaccinations, smear tests and all sorts of aches, pains and complaints.  Their health needs are often complex and their care takes a lot of our time.  We usually have a small amount of information about a refugees background and experience and sometimes they open up and tell us some of their story- but I was reminded today of how much we don’t know.

A person’s file usually indicates when they “left” their home country, and where they sought refuge.  But the real story is rarely that simple.  Leaving may be sudden, family is left behind- often children and elderly parents, and the journey itself may be harsh.  In a case we heard about today a young woman left 2 children behind and then walked for 3 months to find somewhere safe, surviving on what water and food could be found along the way.  Most refugees have been through unimaginable experiences, including the violent loss of loved ones, torture and prolonged persecution.  They somehow get out, and seek refuge here.  For all refugees arriving in safety is the beginning of a new set of challenges, but for many the adjustment is made more difficult by reliving the trauma- by PTSD.

In the face of the challenges faced by these people I see and work with every day, my own misery seems far less important, and I am reminded to be grateful about just how good my life really is.  My Dad had a heart attack, but it was not a big one and he is still here, in fact the warning it gave him might mean he is here for a lot longer than he would have been!  El catracho is still suffering from horrible headaches- and might be having trouble getting to see a specialist, but he has a great GP who is doing his best and a far better chance of getting good care there than in his home country.  And he’s still the sweetest, most helpful husband I could ever imagine.  Chichi isn’t sleeping through the night, but we have her here with us, and her cuddles when she finally falls asleep draped across both of us in our big bed really are priceless.  The other concerns… money, car… are transitory, temporary glitches in what is really a pretty good life.  So I’m not writing a “woe is me” post, rather a grateful one.  My life isn’t perfect… but at least it is my life.

Hmmm, maybe with all these happy thoughts I should be joining Benjamin’s “Three Blessings” blog!

Filed under: Thoughts, blogging, life, refugees, social justice