Ge vattenlöfte och rädda liv!!!

Varje dag dör 1 000 barn på grund av smutsigt vatten, bristande sanitet och dålig kunskap om hygien. Det är fler barn än som dör i krig. Men det finns hopp. Varje dag kämpar UNICEF för att alla barn ska få tillgång till rent vatten. Det är ingen enkel uppgift, men det går. Det finns alltid ett sätt och du kan hjälpa till. Rena vatten och rädda barns liv på unicef.se/vatten.Gör det nu!

 

Tagga gärna @unicefsverige så ser vi vad du skriver på twitter och instagram. Och länkar du till oss, vilket vi hoppas att du gör, använd helst den här urlen https://unicef.se/ad/3D7C59?target=/vatten så kan vi mäta trafik och vad det ger. 

 

Vattenlöftet:

Vi har även lanserat vad vi kallar för Vattenlöftet där vi vill utmana människor att avstå från att köpa flaskvatten och istället lägga pengarna på att rädda barns liv. Varje år köper vi svenskar över 200 miljoner liter flaskvatten, trots att vi har obegränsat med rent vatten i våra kranar. Läs gärna mer om det här: https://unicef.se/vattenloftet

 

Om du vill ta Vattenlöftet själv och sprida det i dina kanaler blir vi såklart jätteglada! Bilder och förslag på text att använda finns via länken. Använd då gärna #vattenlöftet och länka till unicef.se/vattenloftet

Drick kranvatten och ge för att rädda liv!!

 

 

This is why I travel to Iran!

On Tuesday I travel to Iran! 

It is not a political journey. It is not a religious crusade. It is not a marriage trip where I tend to look for a husband. It is not Feminist fighting-trip and it is not a journalistic travelling. 

On tuesday I travel to Iran because I want to visit my friend Amir. He is good friend of mine with whom I spent a great deal of time in Jönköping. He was part of my friend circle there. He lived in Sweden for a while and now he moved back for one reason or another, and I am going there to visit him. 

It was not an obvious choice of travel destination. The idea came quick as a spontaneous suggestion, but after that it has been a process putting myself in Iran mode.

The reasons for that are various of course; security, Islam ruling, history of war. So I did everything I could think of to secure myself.

I called the ministry of foreign affairs. I called the embassy in Sweden. Finally I also called the embassy in Tehran.

I talked to my friends in Iran, my iranian friends in Sweden, my friend in England who has good knowledge of the country, culture and also has visited Iran. I asked the Iranian/afghan visitors at work. I bought a book on Irans history and briefed it with my friends and family.

Some of those actions were good. Some were not.

The fact that Iran is a controversial travel destiny is nothing surprising. For a long time it has been an unsafe place related to war. I know that. People know that. People who have lived there know that, people who haven’t lived there know that. Of course every single news paper in the world also know it too.

So when I say I’m going to Iran, people draw back wondering what the *** I’m going to do there and if I am totally mad.

It has been about a month of “why” and “where” and “with whom” and “don’t do it” and many man more “why” ‘s.

So many that I myself have gotten drawn into it and time after time asked myself if I am completely mad thinking that going to Iran is a good idea.

But then I stopped spreading the word around and started listening to the ones who actually knows what they are talking about.

The embassy, the one Iranian lady in my parents church, the young men and women from Iran at work, the ones who have been there and finally God even sent an Iranian couple to my church who got saved, and who told me about their country.

I kept looking at pretty pictures, reading the guide books and asking Amir instead of listening to and reading the biased news on nuclear weapons and warplans.      

The one who knows their stuff says that Iran is safer now than ever. The worst thing that can happen to a tourist today is traffic injuries. 

So I let go of my worries and stepped up, away from false fear and unknowledge. 

I choose to travel to Iran because I am curious. Fascinated by the Middle East culture. And even though I know Iran is slightly different from other Arab countries it is the closest I can get right now.

I choose to travel to Iran because I want to see this historically beautiful and mind blowing country. I want to experience the muslim culture and challenge my perspective from the western point of view. So that when someone mentions it I can say that I have been there, I have felt it and seen it. I want to visit the buildings, the markets, the desert. See the colors, the nature and huge cities. I want to talk to the people, experience the hospitality and the atmosphere. I want to go to Iran because I haven’t been there yet, and for me that is reason enough. 

Bearing that in mind, I’m stepping away from my original idea of going on a three week beach holiday, knowing that dress code and cultural aspects will be strict and further away from anything I have ever seen. Plus, remembering that this unconventional trip only falls well in line with the rest of my life story I feel safe.

So as I’m packing and preparing to take leave I acknowledged the lesson learned, to only rely on expert resources! 

And with those words there’s nothing left to say but.. Khoda Hafez!

I’ll see you in Iran!

  

 

Be Like Bacon – Francis Bacon (Knowledge is Power)

To all the immigrants in Sweden…

I love you!

I absolutely love that you have ended up in my imperfect, privileged country!

I love that when I take a walk through town I don’t just see a bunch of light skin blondies but a colorful serenade of people.

 I love that I can hear a mix of at least 5 languages being spoken when I ride the local bus. 

I love that in my store there isn’t just köttbullar and potatoes to buy but tacos, sushi, arabic bread and international spices. 

I love that when I am at work I get the chance to speak a mix of all the five languages I know. Every single day. 

 I love that my church has welcomed so many internationals that we now have a translation service for everyone to understand. 

I love to exchange cultural information and traditions. Sure it does get awkward, a LOT of times. But the good moments just overcomes all the misunderstandings. The actual moments when we DO understand each other and manage to share life are just so much more beautiful than anything else.

 Of course there are problems!

With so many cultures in one country, there are bound to be problems. We have swedes fighting with swedes for heavens sake, so of course there are misunderstandings and culture clashes that leads to sadness and hatred. There are people who just can’t handle it; swedes and immigrants. People who manage to turn this incredible beauty into ugliness and refuses to open up and change. They exist. On both sides.

Let’s not be naive. We must all be cautious, protective and beware.

But not of each other. Beware of hatred. Of hostility. Of disillusion of reality. Of fear, fear creates hatred. 

Dear immigrants of Sweden. Please don’t listen to hate. 

 I love you.

(Ps. If the reason for you leaving your country is war or exile, it is nothing that I love. Don’t get me wrong. NOBODY should have to live through that! I just feel privileged that our country is where you found a new home.. And I welcome you with all my being!)

Och när jag kom hem så grät jag..

Jag grät för såren.

Ingen har rätt att behandla en annan människa på det sättet. Ändå så har det hänt, en av de mest oskyldiga. En som jag älskar.

Jag grät för känslan.

Känslan att vilja ta någon annans plats. Vilja lägga över smärtan på sig själv så den älskade kan bli fri. Smärtfri.

Jag grät för ondskan.

Vissa stunder tror jag att det inte längre går att bli förvånad över människors otroliga ondska,  Det går det. Ondskan slutar aldrig överraska.

Jag grät för orättvisan.

Orättvisan i att så många kommer undan, trots att de sårat någon annan så djupt att det blir ärr i själen. Ärr i hjärtat.

När jag kom hem så grät jag. Lät allt det onda komma ut. Skickas tillbaka ut i intet.

..Så jag kan fortsätta vara stark för den älskade.

“Det enda som behövs för att ondskan ska segra,

är att goda människor inte gör nånting”

Edmund Burke

My thing!

We all have our thing!

I mean, admit it, there is something out there that makes everybody tick. That makes you tick. Something that, when you’re in the middle of it, sets your heart on fire. When you practise it.. It can not be compared to anything else in the whole world.

Your specialty. Your passion. Your thing.

I, for one, know that I have found my thing.

It is something that is so beautiful and strong, that when I practice it, it makes my heart fly. It makes my body tingle and give my spirit so much joy I could just stay there forever.

Tonight was one of those special nights where I had the chance to experience my thing fully at work. I realize it now and then that I really AM privileged in many ways. Having a job that from time to time sends my heart to the clouds, leaving me with a feeling of love and endless gratefulness when i walk home in the snowfall. Sorry, hover home in the snowfall. Of happiness.

So what happened tonight?

Well, nothing more unusual than the fact that it was a pretty calm eve at my youth center. Calm and pleasant. This gave me the opportunity to take some extra time to dedicate my attention to a small number of immigrant visitors. Three absolutely adorable guys with different nationalities, that have fled to our lovely country, from their homelands. Homelands that have been torn to pieces. Three boys that, in despite of their experiences, are the most humble and grateful creatures. Smiling, polite and lovely. Eager to learn, longing to be a part of the community where they now have settled down. Striving to do anything to feel like home.

Just thinking about them sends a shiver along my spine. Thinking about the unimaginable things they have seen and lived through. Leaving everything, still coming out on the other side with this incredible humbleness for life and other people. Goose bumps all the way.

So, being able to give them my time during a couple of hours. Speaking a mix of the languages we have in common, while striving to understand each other. Honestly. Longingly. Sharingly. Givingly. Such joy! Such a meaningful use of my time.

They teach me about life!

They teach me about me and my perception and view of life. They teach me about humbleness and every single smile from them warms my heart. Makes me want to give back. And I do. With time, smiles, caring and love.

My thing. I realize now that I write this that I do have many things. But I figured that all of them are combined in this kind of situations. Every time it happens, my heart jumps.

I am not quite sure if it’s the languages, the cultures, the openness, the new discoveries on myself, the discoveries on others, the meetings with amazing personalities or the humbleness that makes me tick the most. All of these things go together in a wonderful experience, full of lessons, mysteries and endless joy.

This is my thing!

It doesn’t matter if it is occurring in the place where i was born, in the place where I currently live, on a journey or on a longer staying abroad.

Dedicating myself to people with other cultures, languages, wisdom, beauties, life experiences and perspectives. It is in my blood to give away what I have to the purpose of uniting, meeting, greeting, sharing and most importantly, understanding all that is new, different, exciting and endlessly infatuating.

It’s in my blood. It is my gift. It is my passion, my one and only way of living and the absolute and infinite goal in my life.

It is my thing!

And there.. Thinking of it.. My heart just took another big indescribable, grateful, humbe and exciting jump!

 

 

 

 

 

 

This ongoing terror is hurting me!

Literally!

My name is Matilda and I live in Sweden. Clean, neutral and safe Sweden. Far far far away from the land of never ending battle. Battle for human rights. Battle for human life.

I have never experienced it. The terror, the exposure, the fear of unknowing. The never ending, constantly present fear of every single day.

I live far far away from the indescribable horror that is going on in Iraq, Syria and Nigeria right as we speak.

But I follow it closely in media. I read stories from the people who managed to flee, watch documentaries on jihadists who returned, read editorials from politicians who claim to have solutions. I cry to videos of people being beheaded and slaughtered like the were animals.

It is hurting me. Literally. Physically.

When I watch these cold blooded terror actions my breathing stops, my stomach turns and my eyes hurt. Question after question pops up: “Did I really see that?” “How can they do that?” “Is this really happening right now?” “What is going through the mind of these people?” “Where is their humanity?” And I pray.. God stop this, God save these suffering people, God make the jihadists turn around like you did with Paul. God.

I watch the terror with physical pain. Pain for these people. My people. The human beings in our world. My world. They are friends and families. My friends and family.

I am far far away. Helpless. What can I do?

Far far away. Here, I stand with all these suffering people. I think of you when I go to sleep, I’m sending out love and prayers to you when I got to work. I am hurting with you every single day.

Dear God, please stop this madness!

 

Freak out!

There is no other way to describe it!

The freak out.

I try to prevent it. I try to stay cool.

Most of the times I succeed, but then there are those times when it’s just too damn hard. When I just can not stand against it and the freak out just overwhelms me and takes me over. For a day or two.

Today is one of those days.

I’m guessing it is a reaction to all that I see and hear and live every single day.

I keep myself posted on todays news and happenings, all the misery and suffering mixed with all daily extremely less important news about random technicalities.

I more often than not debate current world and society issues with people around me. I let my mind process everything in a very deep manner and my brain is constantly set on “analyze in a social context-mode”.

I have an extremely social job where my mission is to stay cool, stay positive, stay organized and give the very best of myself. To encourage the kids at work to follow their paths, and of course, be a pleasant colleague.

I am an active person who balances a life with work, studies, engagement in my church, study circles, blogging, political involvement and other free time friends hang and travelling. All at once.

I love my life!

I am a single, committed to living life at it fullest. I want to learn, experience and share. I have experience, drive, passion and spirit.

I love every second of it.

Then there are those days when everybody seems just so much more stupid than usual, organizing is useless and people just seems to push every single button that triggers me over the edge.

Then it comes.. The freak out!

It comes.. stays for a day and two.. Then it leaves!

With it, it brings me a reason to think twice about my life. It makes me stop for a moment. Take a break. It puts me on the couch and helps me breath, relax, focus and re-evaluate my time, plans and dreams.

It normally takes a weekend. Then it’s over.

The freak out. My worst enemy and my best friend!

 

Om att dricka öl själv!

Ikväll sitter jag ensam på Olearys och dricker öl. Eller jag är ju inte precis ensam..det är en massa folk här, ingen som kom hit med mig bara.

Jag funderar lite på det fenomenet ibland. Fenomenet att gå ut och sätta sig själv.

Det finns ett avsnitt av Vänner där Rachel utmanar sig själv med att gå ut och äta ensam. När jag tänker efter så har jag sett samma diskussion i Sex and the city.

Diskussionen det gäller är frågan om en faktiskt kan gå ut och sätta sig själv på en bar och ta en öl.

Vissa anser att det är otroligt sorgligt. Jag gissar att de inte vill att andra ska tro att de är ensamma och inte har några kompisar där de sitter och tar upp ett helt bord.

Jag klurar lite på om detta är kulturellt eller bara personligt.

I andra länder där jag bott (Frankrike, England, Chile, Spanien, USA) tänkte jag inte så mycket på saken. Men då gick jag också alltid ut med mina studentsällskap och behövde aldrig fundera på saken.

Det, skulle ju kunna vara ett tecken på att det är annorlunda. Kanske behövs inte denna diskussion i andra kulturer med ett mer socialt klimat. Om jag tänker på där jag bodde senast i Chile så är ju alla människor sociala freaks.
Det betyder att om någon går ut själv så hitta hen alltid en kompis eftersom de har en passion för att prata. Så då uppstår aldrig ens debatten hur det är att sitta ensam vid ett bord med sin stora starka. Intressant.

Så nu sitter jag här, ensam vid ett sex-personers bord, på soffan under tv’n som visar senaste hockeymatchen, och klurar på detta. Lite längre bort sitter en ensam karl vid en enarmad bandit och försöker finna lyckan och rikedomen. Han är ju ensam, tänker jag. Sen slår det mig att alla som jag haft denna “konstigt att sitta ute själv”-debatten med faktiskt är kvinniskor. Undrar om den ensamma spelarmannen tänkte sig för innan han gick hit och satte sig? Tyckte han nånstans att det kändes lite knepigt att gå ut själv med?!

Jag hade inte tänkt dra in feminismen i det här, men min insikt gör att det blir oundvikligt. Jag funderar på om det är en könsgrej eller bara en personlighetsgrej.

Jag vet att jag tvekade lite. Kanske inte så mycket för att jag är rädd för vad andra ska tänka, utan för att det helt enkelt är trevligare att gå ut med andra.

Jag kan också bli lite obekväm i situationer ute då en inte är lika kaxig i ensamt tillstånd. Inte ens jag, tro det eller ej. Jag måste vara på rätt humör.

Idag gick jag ändå ut och satte mig. Jag gick förbi Oleary’s först och sms’ade färdigt. Sen gick jag in med bestämda steg. Beställde en stor stark och satte mig.

Nu sitter jag och skriver på min telefon (självförsvar?) Och lyssnar på kvackandet runt omkring. Snart ska jag lägga ner mrs IPhone, beställa en till öl och jag sätta mig och titta.

Inte på telefonen. Jag ska titta på människor, på hockey, på puben och njuta av min ensamhet. För om valet är att gå från hemmet till jobbet och hem, eller att ta en liten avstickare på vägen till Oleary’s, bara för att påminna mig om att jag lever. Då bangar jag inte för att sätta mig ensam!

Join the club!

About the death penalty..

I’m a militant everyday, non-stop opposer of the death penalty!

I can not, for anything in the world, understand how we as human beings can consider ourselves being wise enough to decide who lives and who dies. What legal rights are we claiming to possess that gives us the power over another persons right to live and die.

It is, has always been and will always be an obvious statement and opinion in my person.

“But what about the murderers? What is the problem with eye-for-an-eye?”

In my world death penalty becomes a never ending circle of violence. I do not for a second believe that death penalty is the solution to any crime scene. Does it give sufficient of comfort and revenge to the families of the murdered to execute the abuser? That is always a questions. Does revenge ever feel good? Of course it does. Even for me as a “peace wisher”. Is it sufficient though? I have no idea. I have never been in the situation of having to decide that, and I truly hope for my life that it will never happen. To me or anyone else for that matter.

I just don’t believe in death as a solution. I can not even joke about wishing someone dead, because to me it is just unthinkable. Executing someone for the sake of vengeance to me is doing the same thing all over again. There is no justice in retaliation.

However, standing by this opinion, I do not say that I am emotionally indifferent.

Recently we learned about a shooting in Pakistan, where about 130 children and their teachers were murdered at their own school. It was a group of Talibans who heartlessly entered the school and brutally shot down every single person that was in there.

130 children were murdered in cold blood! Such a coward, despicable act. I know there is a political agenda behind this, but killing 130 innocent children.. Nothing can ever justify that kind of act. These men deserve to die.

That is also the opinion of the Pakistani government, who took action and temporarily reinstated the death penalty for these men. To bring justice.

I can not say that cried over these two men who have already been executed for this cause. Thinking of these 130 school children being slaughtered while trying to get educated. These men who did it. I mourn their souls, but not their lives.

However, today I got a pledge from Amnesty International. A pledge to email the Prime Minister of Pakistan and urge him to undo the reinstatement, and spare the lives of the child murderers whose punishment has not yet been carried out.

I signed it!

I emailed it!

Killing children is one of the most despicable things to do. I myself, don’t believe I could ever look these men in the eyes. I truly think they must be locked away, imprisoned to the end of their lives, somewhere where they have nothing to do but think about what they have done.

My emotions doesn’t fail me. My compassion and love goes out to all these families who lost their children that day.

In the end of the day though, I do not believe in revenge. It’s controversial, I know. Naive, of course, because the world we live in is evil. Still, I don’t believe that any killing brings peace, not in the world, nor in spirit.

That is why I’m going to keep fighting to abolish the death penalty until the idea of it being something just and right, is gone!

To everyone out there who stands with me on this, I encourage you to join Amnesty International. Together we can do this, through pledges, demonstrations and political impacts.

Join the fight here..

For the sake of Human Rights.