saraewood.com

On most mornings I jump in the carpool queue to get work. On most mornings I am driven into the city by reasonably pleasant people in reasonably clean cars (with the exception of that one time I had to keep corralling that spider off me) for a reasonably stress-free ride to work.

Today, however, the car that I ended up in was a small bright red 2-door manual-transmission Toyota Celica sporty thing being driven by an older person I later realized was a woman. She wore her hair shorn, red leather driving gloves, big trench coat, scarf wrapped dramatically around her neck and hearing aides. The only thing she said to me was: “Lever on right pull your seat forward” - I assumed so that I could give my fellow commuter legroom in back. When I asked the person behind if I could move my seat back slightly (”yes, of course”) the driver slammed on the brakes in the middle of the block. Apparently I had disturbed her sense of where my seat should be located (ie, with my face pressed against the windshield).

Her driving was erratic due to a number of factors, including the fact that she clearly never learned to drive a manual-transmission properly, had one foot on the brake at all times and like to yank the wheel from side to side - even when driving in a straight line. This may have been because she, too, sat with her chair pulled as far forward as it would go and her arms didn’t have much space to move over her ample torso.

Her style for merging into the far left carpool lane on the busy 8-lane highway in rush hour traffic was to roll her window down, lean halfway out and motion wildly with her entire arm. At the same time, she would have either slammed on the brakes or accelerated quickly without any indication that she had noticed who might be behind or ahead. I really did wonder if I would make it to work in one piece. I did. And here I have, for your viewing pleasure, some numbers about road traffic accidents and old ladies.

There are an estimated 20.8 million uprooted persons worldwide. Among the many reasons one would flee their home, risking abuse, injury and often death, is to escape the dire situation they face were they to stay. Given the choice between watching your family raped, beaten tortured and killed at the hands of a known enemy vs gambling on humankind to intervene in your hour of need - what would you do?

Domestic and international conflict has led to a cottage industry of the movement of peoples across borders - a commodities service where the goods being shipped are babies, children, the sick and infirm, regular people driven from their homes and jobs, families and friends. They are rarely treated better than if they were chattel. Many die of dehydration and other easily avoidable situations.

Is is unfathomable the situation these people face. And when one comes across a story in the daily news cycle describing the latest in abuses - Somalis fleeing war being thrown to sharks off the coast of Yemen by smugglers - it is heartbreaking to think how so-called humankind is acting, once again, inhuman and unkind.

from CNN:

The victims are people “who are desperate to escape persecution, violence and poverty in the Horn of Africa,” U.N. High Commissioner for Refugees said in a statement.

Passengers who resisted the smugglers were stabbed or beaten with wooden and steel clubs, then thrown overboard where some were attacked by sharks, the agency said it learned from survivors.

“Several recovered bodies showed signs of severe mutilation,” UNHCR said. “Survivors also reported that several Ethiopian women and at least one Somali were raped and abused by the smugglers during the voyage from Bosaso in Somalia’s Puntland region. Survivors also alleged that some Yemeni security forces confiscated their money once they reached shore.”

Just arrived in sunny San Francisco from glacial Boston. For the weather alone, I am happy. But there is much more to be excited about, including a fascinating new job, which will mean less time for my random musings. I knew this personal blog thing would prove difficult to sustain. Anyway, to my one loyal fan (Hi Mom!), I’ll see what I can add every now and again.