Paul Rusesabagina – RESPECT!

November 2013 I attended the “Human rights days” in Kulturhuset in Stockholm.

I went to this one seminar hosting the man Paul Rusesabagina. Here’s a picture..

For those of you who don’t know, he was the actual man that saved more than 1200 peoples lives by taking them into his hotel during the genocide of Rwanda in the 90’s. The man portrayed in the movie Hotel Rwanda. He was attending the conference and you can all see the interview here. 

That was in 2013… I watched the man, listened to the interview, but at that time, I knew nothing more about the story really.

Tonight, 2 years later, I am sitting on my couch on a Sunday night watching this movie and I am telling you, I really honesty wish I had paid him more respect on that day two years ago.

There was nothing that could have prepared me for this movie. No speech, no preaching, no nothing. Because nothing can prepare you for watching this kind of cruelty, where a whole group of people are being wiped out from the face of the earth, for the simple reason of being born into a certain category at a certain time. By other humans on a cruel, incomprehensible mission of extinction.

There are too many stories in our history books touching this subject. Too many horrifying numbers of people being slaughtered for unspeakable reasons. As if there is not enough people dying in the world already for other reasons. Too many inhuman, heartless, cold blooded actions to be counted, and accounted for.

There is simply too much of this!

So watching this incredible movie, I wept. And wept. And wept.

Because this movie is not only touching the subject of Rwanda and how the west abandoned an African country desperately in need. It is an ongoing story today.. The targets are constantly changing, but the history is being repeated over and over again. Like a never ending story.

I see it in the eyes of the young adults I meet at work. I see it in the stories of the refugees I meet in my church. I see it in the people of the streets of my safe country.

Some of my friends walked for weeks, barefoot, across cities, countries, in the dark night, without any lead. Some crossed the sea in tiny boats loaded with hundreds of people. Some lost their whole family. Almost everybody lost everything.

Why?

Because of cold blood, hatred and to be honest, politics, power and money. These are the roots of all evil.

There is no end to the love and compassion I feel for these people. My friends. My fellow humans. My brothers and sisters. No end of my admiration for their bravery and struggle.

Yet, I stand on the other side. Privileged. Watching. Weeping.

This movie touched me. Hotel Rwanda, a movie about a brave mans action during  genocide in the past, stirring up all my emotions concerning current ongoing conflicts.

Hotel Rwanda.

An important movie which will not leave you untouched.

And Paul Rusesabagina.

To you.. all my R-E-S-P-E-C-T and blessings.

You are an extraordinary man!

 

To all the immigrants in Sweden – Respect!

There is nothing more mentally exhausting than being in a room full of people speaking a language one doesn’t quite understand. 

Listening, mentally registering words in your mind. Smiling, because there is just no other polite face to make in this situation. Relaxing in your chair, because being on the edge is no point, you still won’t laugh when everybody else laughs. Trying hard to stay awake, even though the constant flow of voices and unfamiliar words slowly rocks you into a numb slumber..

Gatherings of these sorts are the most extremely tiring thing that makes you want to sleep all day long.
I promised myself when I started travelling, discovering this that I, myself, would do everything in my power not to put people in this situation. To always stand by and help translating to make sure nobody is left out.

I know that I failed sometimes, but it was ALWAYS with the very best intentions to include everyone as much as possible. 

I guard these lessons close to my heart, to live by!

So, my message to all of you immigrants out there in my country today, is that 

I feel you!

More often than not, I put myself in these kind of challenging language situations. It is just who I am. My curiosity drives me and never ceases. So I have been in your shoes. However there is one crucial difference between us that separate us.

I do it voluntarily! For many of you it wasn’t a choice!

So, to all of you out there who came to Sweden involuntarily, through war or crisis, with a will to survive and start over. To all of you who truly is struggling with this complicated language of mine, doing everything in your power to adopt out customs and ways of expression.

Respect! 

You are incredibly brave and I honor you who give everything while taking these steps into my culture.

My experience has always been  a choice, yours is not. I know this. I respect you deeply and promise you that from my  part I will do everything I can to make it easier for you!

Respect! 

They came across the sea..

This week I have been blessed with some wonderful moments of sharing with some of the youth I met at my daily work. What we have we share, love and life stories.

Stories of how these particular youngsters ended up in Sweden. Their way. Their sacrifice. Their loss. Their sorrows. Their gratefulness and their fears.

What I see..is their strength.

Young boys (the majority are boys) who already lived a life time of a hundred years, experienced more pain, separation and heartbreak than most of us ever will.

Boys who have seen their cities, houses, childhood memories being torn apart, shattered, destroyed in front of their eyes.

Incredible, wonderful boys who have already felt too much hurt in separation and partings from family, friends and loved ones.

Young boys who are no longer boys, but have become men, with a lost childhood.

  
These boys came with the boats. The same kind of boat that goes down in the mediterranian sea. Thousands of people lost on the waves. These boats contains boys that could have been at my work today. At school. In my life.

Lost boys who disappeared.

Lost boys looking for life.

I am so blessed!

Because I am safe. Because i am born in the “right” country. Because I haven’t yet lived through these kinds of situations as these boys.

But mostly I am blessed because I every day get the chance to meet these young men. These young, beautiful, strong, sensitive men, who did not deserve this.

Our meetings are filled with sharing of life stories, affection, guidance on their journey into this new, different society and humbleness towards life.

I am learning so much. Loving so much.

I am blessed because I get the opportunity to love them.

These boys came across the sea.

They took the road of death, to find freedom, opportunity, a future. They lived.

The ones who died are now in my prayers. Lord have mercy on their souls.

  

These boys came across the sea…

..and today, they are all part of me!

Denna jul är det inte tanken som räknas!

Den här julen är det inte tanken som räknas. Det är julklapparna.
Det pågår fler katastrofer än på mycket, mycket länge och det är barnen som drabbas värst. I gåvoshopen hittar du livräddande produkter som skickas till de barn som behöver det mest. Du får fina gåvobevis att ge bort i julklapp. Köp julklappar som räddar barns liv på unicef.se!

Direktlänk till gåvoshopen är:
http://bit.ly/1yyrESL.

A man of words and not of deeds

A man of words and not of deeds
Is like a garden full of weeds
And when the weeds begin to grow
It’s like a garden full of snow
And when the snow begins to fall
It’s like a bird upon the wall
And when the bird away does fly
It’s like an eagle in the sky
And when the sky begins to roar
It’s like a lion at the door
And when the door begins to crack
It’s like a stick across your back
And when your back begins to smart
It’s like a penknife in your heart
And when your heart begins to bleed
You’re dead, and dead, and dead indeed.

(John Fletcher 1579-1625)

Pour Françoise et Patrick

(Jag skriver detta inlägg på franska eftersom det är en hyllning till två underbara människor som måste kunna läsa det! )

Voilà! C’est parti! C’est le départ de France.

J’ai passée deux semaines ici avec mon amie Elvire que j’aime beaucoup et elle le sait. Mais déjà ce sera une autre chapitre. Je voudrais ici donner mon respect à ses parents Françoise et Patrick. Pour moi ils seront le symbole d’un genre des humaines que j’aime..

Ouverts, simple et aimable!

Des la première jour ils m’ont fait sentir comme si j’étais chez moi. ” tout notre est à toi”, “sers toi” etc.

Comme moi aussi j’ai le même manière à penser quand quelqu’un vient chez moi, ce n’était pas une grande surprise que on se sentait très bien ensemble.

On a discutée beaucoup et bien rigolé.

Ça fait du bien!!

Voilà! C’est un peu triste de les quitter mais je sais qu’une journée on va se revoir!

À bientôt Françoise et Patrick et vraiment, un grand MERCI pour tout!

Pour ouvrir votre maison et vos cœurs pour moi la suédoise! 🙂

Grenoble, France, juillet 2012

An incredible deed

In a world where lying, tricking and killing seems to have become the most common habit of all, it still does surprise me when someone shows kindness, selflessness and trust. Those three are things that I am aiming for in my life, so it shouldn’t be more than fair to assume that there are other people out there wanting the same thing. Still, random kindness surprises me every time.

Today’s one was like a reminder from heaven that it’s not yet over; it DOES still exist and finds its ways to shine.

It was quite simple really. I was going to the super market and since I have a bad foot I was thinking of getting one of those bags on wheels. The ones we call “dramat” in Sweden, meaning “pull food.” It’s a very practical and useful help for someone who can not carry heavy.

So I stopped by this group of socializing elderlies since one of these ladies is holding one, asking for tips. She directs me to a store, I check it out and it turns out to be way to expensive for my sick leave budget. So I hang out with these oldies for a while and we chat about feet, life and the complicity of it.

And then it happens.

This lady, who I did not know the name of and only had been talking to for like 5 minutes ever, offers me to borrow her Dramat for as long as I need.

Writing it it’s doesn’t come off as a big deal, but for me it was.

Meaning that out of nowhere, this stranger confides me longterm with her property before even knowing my name. She knew by then where I live, but other than that there was no talk of conditions or time lengths or exchanging numbers before the promise was made.

My interpretation of that is simply that she possess a will of follow the road of kindness.

So she walks home with her merchandise, comes back ten minutes later and hands me the bag and a note with her number, “call me when you’ve finished using it.”

And that’s that.

So simple. So straight forward. So trusting. So kind.

Extraordinary.

I walked away with the bag in my hand, a smile on my face AND in my heart and felt the blessing run over.

Her name was Joyce. And the act she pulled that day was nothing but joy.

Thank you Joyce for teaching me just a little bit more about selflessness, trust and how I as a person want to live my life.

Caring for others come first!