Friday, July 14, 2006
Living In A Belfast Summer
Here's a blog I wrote about July 11th of this year. Interesting day.....
--mikey
July 11th 2006
As I sit here at the computer, I'm go over my day in my mind. It's 1:02 a.m. ....... how i can get to sleep after today. Waking up this morning I wasn't sure what the day would bring. I felt tired, and sort of a weight on my chest, the same feeling I had when I was in India. Not that I was sick or anything, just the feeling that something wasn't right......... The day started off with some coffee, shower and cleaning the room. I'm currently living on the third floor of an extension to an old Presbyterian Church that's right across a youth drop-in centre for Protestants. The Peace Wall Starts with the Church, followed by a small factory and continuing on as an actually 40 ft. high wall.
I was in my room when I heard the yelling......a few neighbourhood girls where waiting to get into the centre when some 'Tags' started throwing the rocks. (A 'Tag' here, for lack of a better word, is what the Protestants call all of the Catholics. Wandering around the streets of the British side here you might see some graffiti saying, 'KAT' or 'Kill All Tags' or the 'FPSNI' meaning 'F*$% the Police Service of Northern Ireland') So I looked out my window and some kids, ages around 15 or so, climbed over the factory from the Catholic side and were standing on top of the roof, pelting any non-catholic they could see. A fist-size rock was thrown at the girls and missed. The next one smashed the glass door to the centre. The next one.......the girl was in the hospital this afternoon having to get staples put into the right side of her forehead just above the eye..........I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Could this really be happening? I mean.....these were just......kids.... The girls ran inside the centre, and the other kids ran off. For the rest of the day I had to walk close to the Factory wall just in case any 'Tags' were there. What an awful way to discriminate.
I knew what was going to happen later on this night, I just wasn't really....prepared. The pile of wood was built even higher then it was yesterday, reaching approx. 40 feet now. Just high enough so the 'other side' could see the flames. On top, rested the Irish flag blowing in the wind. Around 10 p.m. the crowd started gathering and the marching bands came in......the alcohol was poured and the 'party' commenced. Crowds came in masses, waving their flags, singing their songs as they all waited for the clock to strike 12. I felt like I was waiting out the New Year.....in the Bronx.
At 12 the fire was lit and the people cheered. The wood burned and they were happy. By the time the flames reached the top, the heat coming from the fire was to unbearable to be on the same block as it, so the people had to cross the street and stand back. You could hear the crowd yelling and singing but as soon as the Irish Flag caught to flames, the whole area shouted as loud as they could. The bottles were thrown, the Irish were cursed, the people were happy.
Even as I write this I know that the street is stilled filled with the Shankill residences, singing their hearts out as their own personal revolutions are taking place...one wooden crate at a time.
Tomorrow is the 12th. The day of Celebration and as many Parades as you can count. I'm happy to stay in doors and continue as usual. Write a few e-mails, do some computer work, plan our up coming dates...... But does any of it do any good? Does our weekly class about Forgiveness and Reconciliation, taught to the school kids, really do any good when there are massive fires to remember times of segregation and war? Would it help if we had a march, a fire, a cheer? I'm sure in my life I've built my own bon-fires, my own walls, my own standards of what makes a person 'worthy' to be part of my life and what deems them...not. I wonder if I had a fire, which flag would I put on top? Which would I want to burn?
Christ calls us to love our enemy. To pray for those who persecute us. I'm not saying that I favour either side in this on going generational battle. All I'm saying is that we don't have it right. Stop, stop for one moment and listen to what your heart is saying. Do you feel it too? Do you feel that weight that just screams, "Something's Not Right!" "Injustice Is Being Caused" "People Are Hurting!"
As I walked home tonight all I could think of is a simple prayer....
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
--St. Francis
--mikey
July 11th 2006
As I sit here at the computer, I'm go over my day in my mind. It's 1:02 a.m. ....... how i can get to sleep after today. Waking up this morning I wasn't sure what the day would bring. I felt tired, and sort of a weight on my chest, the same feeling I had when I was in India. Not that I was sick or anything, just the feeling that something wasn't right......... The day started off with some coffee, shower and cleaning the room. I'm currently living on the third floor of an extension to an old Presbyterian Church that's right across a youth drop-in centre for Protestants. The Peace Wall Starts with the Church, followed by a small factory and continuing on as an actually 40 ft. high wall.
I was in my room when I heard the yelling......a few neighbourhood girls where waiting to get into the centre when some 'Tags' started throwing the rocks. (A 'Tag' here, for lack of a better word, is what the Protestants call all of the Catholics. Wandering around the streets of the British side here you might see some graffiti saying, 'KAT' or 'Kill All Tags' or the 'FPSNI' meaning 'F*$% the Police Service of Northern Ireland') So I looked out my window and some kids, ages around 15 or so, climbed over the factory from the Catholic side and were standing on top of the roof, pelting any non-catholic they could see. A fist-size rock was thrown at the girls and missed. The next one smashed the glass door to the centre. The next one.......the girl was in the hospital this afternoon having to get staples put into the right side of her forehead just above the eye..........I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Could this really be happening? I mean.....these were just......kids.... The girls ran inside the centre, and the other kids ran off. For the rest of the day I had to walk close to the Factory wall just in case any 'Tags' were there. What an awful way to discriminate.
I knew what was going to happen later on this night, I just wasn't really....prepared. The pile of wood was built even higher then it was yesterday, reaching approx. 40 feet now. Just high enough so the 'other side' could see the flames. On top, rested the Irish flag blowing in the wind. Around 10 p.m. the crowd started gathering and the marching bands came in......the alcohol was poured and the 'party' commenced. Crowds came in masses, waving their flags, singing their songs as they all waited for the clock to strike 12. I felt like I was waiting out the New Year.....in the Bronx.
At 12 the fire was lit and the people cheered. The wood burned and they were happy. By the time the flames reached the top, the heat coming from the fire was to unbearable to be on the same block as it, so the people had to cross the street and stand back. You could hear the crowd yelling and singing but as soon as the Irish Flag caught to flames, the whole area shouted as loud as they could. The bottles were thrown, the Irish were cursed, the people were happy.
Even as I write this I know that the street is stilled filled with the Shankill residences, singing their hearts out as their own personal revolutions are taking place...one wooden crate at a time.
Tomorrow is the 12th. The day of Celebration and as many Parades as you can count. I'm happy to stay in doors and continue as usual. Write a few e-mails, do some computer work, plan our up coming dates...... But does any of it do any good? Does our weekly class about Forgiveness and Reconciliation, taught to the school kids, really do any good when there are massive fires to remember times of segregation and war? Would it help if we had a march, a fire, a cheer? I'm sure in my life I've built my own bon-fires, my own walls, my own standards of what makes a person 'worthy' to be part of my life and what deems them...not. I wonder if I had a fire, which flag would I put on top? Which would I want to burn?
Christ calls us to love our enemy. To pray for those who persecute us. I'm not saying that I favour either side in this on going generational battle. All I'm saying is that we don't have it right. Stop, stop for one moment and listen to what your heart is saying. Do you feel it too? Do you feel that weight that just screams, "Something's Not Right!" "Injustice Is Being Caused" "People Are Hurting!"
As I walked home tonight all I could think of is a simple prayer....
Lord, make me an instrument of your peace,
Where there is hatred, let me sow love;
where there is injury, pardon;
where there is doubt, faith;
where there is despair, hope;
where there is darkness, light;
where there is sadness, joy;
O Divine Master, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled as to console;
to be understood as to understand;
to be loved as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive;
it is in pardoning that we are pardoned;
and it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
--St. Francis
