Pollyanna Rules

Silver line in the cloud, there surely is no hurry, but would you mind showing up?!


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Con cordiale disprezzo

allsho's blog

Ecco 700 nuovi morti. 700 tra cui forse c’era anche qualche terrorista (anche se non mi spiego come facciano i terroristi veri a spendere una barca di soldi per addestrare qualcuno e poi rischiarla, la barca di soldi, infilandola in una barca da quattro soldi e spedendola in mezzo a un mare di guai), sicuramente tanti futuri clandestini, insieme a qualche richiedente asilo.

Ed ecco tanti, vivi, che stanno bene, seduti davanti ai loro computer, a mostrare la loro contentezza per i 700 clandestini delinquenti in meno sul suolo patrio.

Ed ecco qualcuno, scusate, qualche bastardo, che cerca di speculare politicamente sulla tragedia.

Io cosa vedo? Vedo un Occidente che sta bene, ricco. Vedo un sud del mondo in cui, anche dove non ci sono guerre o carestie, si sta comunque peggio. Vedo esseri umani che, per caso o per disegno divino, nascono qui e là. E il fatto che…

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Exams

Even though I planned to make this a reminder of all the things I ought to be grateful for, there are moments when everything seems to be falling apart, and I don’t know where to turn to and find the good in my life.
I usually turn to health, I went through tricky times in the past, but nothing too worrying, or painful, or sudden.
Well, I was deaf for some time, and had to undergo some surgery, and not too pleasant tests, but I never really worried too much, or for too long.

But this time it was different. I’ve been worrying and being tested for months, not all the time of course, but it’s been a long, exhausting process. And every time you’re told that maybe some more tests are needed, the dark clouds grow darker, and the silver lining seems to disappear. And you can’t even say well, at least I still have health. Because, you know, maybe you don’t.

And then comes the day you go for another exam, and the person before you leaves the examination room in tears, and it looks like a bad sign.
And then your test is good, perfect, nothing is wrong. Of course you need to be careful and have regular check ups, but you’re fine.
And the dark clouds start to fade, and you can see the light again. The sun.


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Online

Sometimes we get so used to things that we start taking them for granted, until they’re gone. Yes, like nonstop electricity or water, exactly.

Sometimes it’s not something as necessary as water, not even quite necessary as clothing, or somewhat necessary like a car.

Sometimes I realise I am not grateful enough for the opportunities that the Internet offers.

I wouldn’t be writing this blog.
Not that it’s a life-saving kind of blog, but it’s a useful reminder that I always have something to be grateful for.

I wouldn’t be constantly in touch with friends and family that are thousands of miles away, most of the times.
Sure, we might do with a break, but we would be missing so much on each other’s life that we would either become estranged or talk for days on end at the first opportunity.
And those who know me know that I can, literally.

And I wouldn’t have the possibility to learn so many new things every day. No, I’m not talking about Wikipedia. Well, not only.
I have been attending Coursera courses for some time now, and I keep being amazed at how lucky I am to have a chance to study, with people from all over the world, courses taught on the other side of the ocean, for free, from my desk.
How terrific is that.


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A Day in the Life

Just stumbled into a sweet reminder of why we do what we do, why we spend time and savings to train and train again, why we have to bear witness, and hold on to hope.

Untold Stories

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It’s seven o’clock and Tierkidi refugee-camp is buzzling of early morning activity. It’s food distribution day, and Nyaboth (16) is patiently waiting for the queue in front of her to get smaller.

No one knows the exact number of refugees in the Gambell-region. But we are at least looking at 250.000. More than a quarter of a million people who are dependent on the food that World Food Program is distributing.

The line is moving slow, but Nyaboth isn’t in a hurry as long as she gets what she came for. Four hours later, she has collected all the items her family is entitled to this month. The previous four hours were more boring than exhausting. Now the tough part comes. The 16-year old has to get 150 kilos of flour, maize, oil, lentils and soap back to her tent a couple of kilometres away.

−I have to sell some…

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things to be grateful for – night shift

No, I’m not grateful for night shifts, even though I must admit they did pay pretty well, at the call centre I worked in back in the days.

I lost count of the “things to be grateful for” drafts so far, but tonight I will just publish, whatever road this post decides to take me.

It was an amazing night. With amazing people.

I have been reading and studying and analysing people’s reactions to war and violence for years now, and I never cease to be in awe at the strength and resilience they show.
The humanity that never dies.
The life that screams through them.
The hope that refuses to fade.

And still, when I meet people who have been through all the violence and danger and war and risks, when I hear their stories, their will to go on despite all the evil they faced, despite the pain, the fear, the death around them, I am amazed.

A night out with my young brave Kurdish friend is an experience that left me lost for words.
The struggles she went through, as a Kurd in Syria, as a woman in a war torn Country, as someone living in a besieged city, as a stranger in a Country that is not hers, where she had to face hardship and sneering, and yet she never gave up.

Listening to her story, how she made her escape, the times she feared for her – and her loved ones’ – life, the new version of her she built here, I could not help feeling small, and humbled. Wishing to be more like her, and knowing I will never be.
And grateful for this friendship, that came unexpected, and is one of the greatest gifts this year had in store for me.