Tuesday 26 July 2016

A time of violence and grief

I just switched on the news, and there it was. Another attack from "jihadists", this time targeting a church and murdering a priest. Violence goes on and on (and if we take off our Western-centered glasses for a second, we'll realise such attacks on Christians is nothing new at all).

I feel like my arms and legs have been cut off.




I want to believe in love, peace, and this crazy idea that we can all live together as the human brothers and sisters that we are. Yet, such horrendous acts scream at me that it cannot be. That humans are always going to tear each other apart. That I'd better give up on hope and love and peace. That I should be afraid of Muslims - afraid of the men and women and children I look after at the centre for asylum seekers and of the many other Muslims who live in my country. That I should hide away from them, be wary of them, push them out of my life and even out of my country. Just in case.

I don't want to listen to the screams of terrorism. I don't want to stop loving the people I work with. I don't want terrorism to colour my dealings with the Muslims I come across.

Let us not forget that Daesh aims to divide us, to create a rift between Muslims and the Western world. Let us not allow them to create that rift. Let us not allow them to divide us. I have said it before and I will say it again: the majority of Muslims are as appalled as we are. Besides, in Daesh-controlled territories, they are targeted too. Blaming Muslims and rejecting them will only create more tension, more hatred, and more potential terrorists. This is why I want to love Muslims and offer them my friendship: because I believe this is the only way we can resist a spiral of hatred and violence. To me, this is the only sustainable weapon we have against terrorism.

If you are grieving for Father Jacques Hamel, do not forget what he stood for: he was a Christian, he believed in Jesus Christ. And Jesus Christ asked us to love our enemie and pray for them. Is it hard? Yes, it is. It is hard, painful, heart-wrenching, and dangerous. But this is what Jesus asks, and this is what Jesus did. He was brutally murdered, yet he prayed for his murderers. Jesus gave his life out of love for his enemies.




If you are a Christian, don't forget this: we are supposed to fight hate with love, persecution with prayer, evil with good. And if you are not a Christian, remember all that Father Jacques Hamel stood for, all he believed in. He would not want you to respond with hatred and vengeance.


Thursday 7 July 2016

Climb every mountain

Every year, Nicholas and I go to the French Alps for a couple of weeks. Nicholas cycles up the "cols" (mountain passes) that the Tour de France often goes through, and I hike in the mountains.

The first year, we went to the Col Agnel (Lamb's Pass), which marks the border with Italy. Looming above that pass is a 10,525-feet-high slate summit called le Pain de Sucre (the Sugar Loaf). It is a popular hike as you can enjoy a 360°-view from the top, allowing you to see Italian 12,602-feet-high Mount Viso, the beautiful Barre des Ecrins (Jewellery Case Range), and even the Mont Blanc on a clear day. I felt fascinated but I didn't have proper mountain hiking shoes back then, and decided not to risk it as the slope was very steep. I vowed to go the following year.



Alas, the following year, I sprained my foot on a ridiculously easy hike and had to stick to easy walks using hiking poles after that. And the next year, the Sugar Loaf was shrouded in clouds every time we up there.

So today, finally, I set off to hike up the Sugar Loaf. I had my good mountain shoes, a windproof jacket, and some food and water in my backpack. 

I had been walking for hardly half an hour when I noticed something moving up the slope. I squinted to see and realised they were six ibex (bouquetins) feeding. Unfortunately, my camera doesn't have a very good zoom, but here you can just about make them out.


I kept going up an easy track on the grassy slopes until I reached the Col Vieux (Old Pass), a mountain pass you can only reach on foot, as opposed to those you ride or cycle up, like Nicholas does. From there, the path got steeper and steeper. This doesn't necessarily bother me, when it means climbing amongst rocks you can hold on to. But this path was winding up in slate dust and stones that looked rather slippery, on a very steep rock face with a rather scary drop. And I had no hiking poles. Soon enough I felt utterly stuck.

Fortunately, a couple of fellow hikers passed by and I could ask for help. The man was very kind and reassuring and guided me along the path, and lent me his poles. His name was Jérémy, and his partner was Marguerite.

Reaching the top was breathtaking, and I don't think photos truly do it justice.



Mount Viso

We started the descent, which, paradoxically, was much easier as we took a different path that took us through some rocks we could support ourselves on. I was very grateful to those hikers for their help.

Fulfilling my dream of climbing up the Sugar Loaf leaves me with mixed feelings. I'm happy I did it, but I'm somewhat angry at myself for not realising how tricky the climb would be, and for not preparing accordingly. I feel I was careless, and put my life in danger. I don't know what I'd have done without those fellow hikers, and I'm grateful they helped me.