We Are All

These young men have been put in charge of the family goats. At least until tomorrow. They’ve been caring for them for three days as the city and nation prepare for Eid-ul-Azha, also known as the Festival of Sacrifice.

Tomorrow morning the entire Muslim world will sacrifice their cows, goats and sheep in celebration of Ibrahim’s willingness to sacrifice his own son as a show of faith to Allah.

These animals will be slaughtered right where they stand. It will be bloody and brutal and difficult to accept. The meat will be carved up right on the street the very same day. One third of it will be for the family to keep, one third to share with friends, and one third will be distributed to the poor who can’t afford to buy meat for themselves. It will be an emotional day and these young men know it’s coming.

These two women own a small, outdoor restaurant in the Santa Cruz district of Manila city. Each day for lunch you can choose from five or six of their freshly made dishes to lay over a thick bed of white rice. It’s a home-cooked lunch that will fill your belly for less than a couple of dollars. Dinner is a dollar more, but there will be seafood.

Three large tables are set up on the sidewalk just outside the main floor apartment where these women live. The restaurant is essentially their family kitchen, and it’s where they eat their meals together with the people they serve. At the end of the day, and until everything gets put away and the kids to bed, this is where they spend all their time, working or not.

Throughout metro Manila there are hundreds of neighbourhoods just like this one, and at the heart of them all are people like these women and their families, saving a place for everyone. Their door is always open, and you are always welcome.

These three boys have broken away from a small neighborhood ceremony and decided to enjoy the ritual face and body painting for their own play. They may look a little like troublemakers, but they’re really just sweet boys trying to enjoy a little halloween fun.

It is no secret that the Syrian people face hardship and discrimination in many parts of the world. Here in eastern Türkiye it is no different. Even for the children who were born and raised here, they are often looked down upon and treated as outcasts in the only home they have ever known.

Siirt is a beautiful old city in the Kurdish region of eastern Türkiye, but these three lovely sisters, Syrian Kurds, are all too often alone here. They have each other, and are always together, but if the place where a child is born doesn’t feel like home, something is not right in this world.

These days of March in 2024 are somber days in Hong Kong. I haven’t been here in over forty-five years and may not have a meaningful point of reference, but when speaking with people here I sense a crackling of melancholy in their voices that sounds just like they’ve all been crying.

It’s not the same for everyone, and it’s different for the youth who are just getting started with their families and lives. Some are now trying to build up enough courage to leave this place where they were born while others are searching deep inside to find the courage to stay. These are not conversations to have with strangers but they are being had, quietly in the streets on benches like this, among friends like these.