Life in Cowtown

I’ve finally kicked the crud that threatened my life and limb and sleep for over two weeks. It is seriously the longest cold I’ve ever had. It threatened to morph into a sinus infection, and teetered on the edge of bronchitis for a few days as it crawled down my throat, but I think my immune system is finally getting the hang of it.  At least the weather  had the decency to suck while I suffered, and I didn’t have to watch glorious sunshine and blue whit-ish skies overhead. (Seriously, I don’t recall the last time the sky had the deep blue of my childhood. It’s permanently whitish now – maybe there’s something to all the chemtrails theories out there?)

Moving on. While being sick I took good care of myself, mainly by not exerting myself in any fashion. It’s not lazy when you have an excuse. I didn’t exercise, I didn’t cook much, I certainly did not strain myself with an overabundance of yardwork and even housework for that matter. What I did do a fair bit of, between sleeping in a medicated haze and dragging my poor self to work is read. Reading is easy, fun and can put you to sleep or wake you up, depending on the genre.

Not wanting to tax myself with serious works of non-fiction and fiction requiring a dictionary, I stuck mainly to the fantasy genre, seeing as it’s light, readable and candy for the brain in general. Which leads me to ask, isn’t it funny when life proves you wrong by leading you to enjoy stuff you’ve professed to hate? Happens to me all the time, and my carefully thought out stances against say, Twitter and fantasy literature have done a predictable 180 in the last few months. I am very reluctant to ever say NEVER now, seeing as it’s a gauntlet throwing challenge to the universe to prove me wrong.

I can’t remember when it started, but I know the book that made me fall – Moon Called by Patricia Briggs. I have a vague idea of how it must have happened – a person who reads an average of four books per week must spend a certain amount of time researching what to read next, so I do a fair bit of surfing, reading Amazon reviews and blogs and hope to find the rare gem of a reviewer whose opinions match my own.  If I’m lucky, a review of a book I already love will contain a recommendation of a similarly loved book which will likely make its way into my Amazon basket within a few weeks.

I started Moon Called not having a clue what to expect, and found myself reasonably entertained by the story, and NOT PISSED OFF at the writing. I know this sounds like faint praise, but very often the ‘speaking voice’ of the author will turn me off the story faster than cheap plot lines and cheesy dialogue. It was not a great book, something like a 3.5/5 in my mind, but seeing as I read like it’s going out of style, I went ahead and ordered the next two books. Each one was just as good if not a bit better than the first, and suddenly I found myself waiting for the latest book to come out, and browsing similar genres, and then it just spiraled out of control, and now I have something like FORTY fantasy/urban fantasy/whatever genre books added to my collection.

I’ve checked out the classics a la Laurell K. Hamilton (not my fave), and new arrivals like (somebody suggest someone, I’m drawing a blank), and there’s still a whole universe out there to explore. One series that quickly rose to the top of the LIKE pile is Ilona Andrews’ Magic Bites series. Yep, the covers are one small step above romance novels’ art work, and they’re kind of small, and soft cover only, but they are wonderful stories with great characters, fantastic dialogue, and solid if not great plot lines. And they are addictive in that way that all the famed series are. (And yes, I blew through Charlaine Harris’ Sookie Stackhouse series also.)

If um, any of my readers are into the genres, please feel free to chime in with your favorite series. Actually any series of books  – because it’s super satisfying to have a long story to read, and revisit favorite characters. And I’ll just vigorously start saying NEVER to a healthy diet, and exercise, and a full eight hours of sleep, and traveling around the world, and…

Readers with an eye on European politics will recognize Ali as the Somali-born    member of the Dutch parliament who faced death threats after collaborating on a film about domestic violence against Muslim women with controversial director Theo van Gogh (who was himself assassinated). Even before then, her attacks on Islamic culture as “brutal, bigoted, [and] fixated on controlling women” had generated much controversy. In this suspenseful account of her life and her internal struggle with her Muslim faith, she discusses how these views were shaped by her experiences amid the political chaos of Somalia and other African nations, where she was subjected to genital mutilation and later forced into an unwanted marriage. While in transit to her husband in Canada, she decided to seek asylum in the Netherlands, where she marveled at the polite policemen and government bureaucrats. Ali is up-front about having lied about her background in order to obtain her citizenship, which led to further controversy in early 2006, when an immigration official sought to deport her and triggered the collapse of the Dutch coalition government. Apart from feelings of guilt over van Gogh’s death, her voice is forceful and unbowed—like Irshad Manji, she delivers a powerful feminist critique of Islam informed by a genuine understanding of the religion. 8-page photo insert.

From Publishers Weekly

This weekend I finished digesting the controversial autobiographical novel by Ayaan Hirsi Ali on the recommendation of a friend, and what a novel it was. Very well written, it chronicles the life of Ayaan from the streets of Somalia to her arrival in the Netherlands, and her journey of renouncing religion in favor of atheism. She speaks very passionately about the oppression of one half of the world’s women for religious reasons, then proceeds to warn the west about the dangers newly arrived immigrants pose.  Actually this book covers a multitude of issues, way too numerous to dissect in one post – whether Islam is truly a religion of peace, whether any religion can shed its bloody history of war and oppression, whether westerners have any idea of the value of the freedoms we have, and how vigilant we must be to guard them. It’s a fascinating saga of a book that never gets too dull or pedantic but wraps up all the issues and historical context in a profound personal story.

Ayaan doesn’t pull back punches though, and some of them are aimed at the western world, that she feels is too lenient and permissive towards immigrants. She feels that hiding under political correctness and tolerance is a reluctance to protect not only the foundations of liberty of the west, but a disservice to the women and girls that continue to be persecuted by unintegrated community members of the newly arrived. She points out the statistics of the girls killed by family members, the genital mutilations performed on kitchen tables, the women’s shelters overflowing with beaten wives, the crime rate spikes in predominantly immigrant neighborhoods, and the drain on resources they represent if they choose not to learn the language and participate in the economy funded by the safety net of the world that sheltered them. Referring mainly to Holland, she says that with political correctness and tolerance and fear of being called racist, the country funds ethnic schools where the children are done a disservice with a cherry picked education, heavy on religion and light on history and science, and promote harmful segregation in the name of cultural sensitivity. They are heavy topics to discuss and yet the books doesn’t get heavy with proselytizing and reads easily.

There’s lots of food for thought here, and as an immigrant I can see both sides of the issue. On one hand you have indisputable statistics that support many of Ayaan’s assertions. You don’t have to look far in Calgary to find that the crime rates are higher as a rule in the quadrant of the city where many of the newly arrived cluster. The gang problem that’s spiked dramatically in the last few years is predominantly a product of the oriental culture and our latest murder trial was of a mother who killed her daughter for her overly westernized ways.  To deny the negative impact of immigration from vastly different cultures is dishonest. But on the other hand I see a severe failing of the country to prepare immigrants for life here and perhaps even help them succeed. When predominantly young families arrive in Canada, the culture shock is often severe, I know it was for us. Despite Canada’s self-claim as a polite and friendly country it is often rather cold or uncaring towards immigrants. Sure there’s a genuinely nice culture in small towns, but that’s not where the jobs are, so newcomers end up immersed in cosmopolitan and jaded cities. Not helped by the language barrier, the people are actually not that easy to get to know with our busy lifestyles that often don’t allow us to know our own neighbors, never mind befriend someone new. We often lament that we don’t even have time to see the friends we have, let alone make time for new ones. We often wait for new people to get more ‘westernized’ before we allow them into our circle, making polite small talk at work, but not really breaking down any cultural barriers.

So what are people to do? They do what comes naturally. They find other immigrants from their country, and sigh in relief. Often lonely and homesick, having left all their friends and many family members they understandably feel comforted at meeting someone, anyone who understands, has been there and speaks the language. Quite often the informal ‘training’ they get from their friends is invaluable and not found in any guidebook. Newly arrived people don’t need to know how Canada’s parliament system works right away, they need to know how to purchase bus fare and navigate the city.  Where to buy groceries and how to enroll your child in school. What work options are available and where to take English courses. This, and a myriad of other basic things, skills and tips are not found in any guide for newcomers and make culture shock more severe than it needs to be. Many people get overwhelmed with all the information flying at them with mach speed and you end up with older generations that have lived in Canada for twenty plus years and still don’t speak English.  But the biggest way we fail immigrants is by failing to truly streamline their re-accreditization in their chosen profession. That’s how we end up with the most educated cab drivers. I cannot count how many people have degrees that are sitting there unused while they do menial work because they have to start from scratch and get re-certified, negating the years of effort it took to get the degree in the first place. These are people who are in the prime of their earning years who cannot afford to go back to school for four, six or eight years as they have a family to support, so their degrees get shelved as they find ways and means to support them. In the meantime, politicians bleat about nurse and doctor shortages as well as every other employee shortage you can think of, yet can’t find the time to streamline the process of getting qualifications recognized.  This is a criminal waste of talent and ensures that many immigrant families’ earning power is low longer, contributing to both the burden on social services and delaying their productive integration into our society.

Whew. This is just one of the many tangents this book can take you on, so needless to say it’s an excellent and important read.  I now leave you with a picture that is much more tranquil than the rant I just went on. Feel free to agree or disagree below. Or just pet a cat.

I’ve got some fun responses to the post, and it’s neat to see just what people would consider essential island reading.

So without further ado, the winner as per my baffled co-worker pulling a number out of a hat is…. TA-TA-DUM…

Water Roots!!!

Congratulations, your prize will be e-mailed shortly, and a huge thanks to all the readers out there!