Apparently, somewhere in Australia, there is currently a water shortage.
Initially, I though this was a hilarious coincidence, what with weeks of heavy rain, water coming into our flat through walls, skylights and windows that aren't quite sealed. My daily commute, theoretically a 10 minute train ride, has become a major undertaking thanks to flooded railway lines.

I almost offered to send a few buckets of water across so that they don't have to eat vegetables from a garden watered by dirty baby bath water.

But lo and behold, this morning my very own shower displayed signs of Australian summer water shortages and decided that all I needed to get clean was a steady trickle. I didn't agree, so rang Scottish water. Interestingly, they have a perfectly logical explanation for it: Our tenement building is on a wee hill, and we're on the third floor, so if anyone has a shower same time as me, that will be a bit hard on the water pressure. Sounds reasonable. The only tiny aside I would have is that this actually means that I can never have a shower in the morning. Which is a bit of shame really I should think.

Maybe I should try washing my hair in the not so wee puddle of water that accumulated in our close under the skylight.

Strange things are happening to me. The strangest thing is that they don't feel strange at all. So there, feel free to blame it on hormones, nesting instinct or whatever.

To cut a long story short, I've turned into a hypnotised knitting and sewing homebirthing yoga tree hugger.

It's not totally and utterly a change of personality, just the combination is a bit odd. There were times when I was an avid knitter, so this part is actually not so new. The German school I went to was quite laissez faire and I was a swot and teachers let me get away with almost anything. So me and my pal Astrid knitted away in English and History classes, which was really more productive than falling asleep as the rest of the class did, and both came out with A's anyhow. Those were the days. It didn't do much for my popularity amongst my peers, but that was nothing new and by that time, I had stopped caring.

I tried sewing before as well, something my dad was good at coming from a seamstress's family, while not being a natural teacher, so I tried to learn it in evening classes. And failed.

I've also been doing yoga on and off for the past 7 years at least, but never with much vigour or the commitment that you should really bring to it. Maybe that's because I'm anything but flexible - let me run a marathon, fair enough, but yoga postures in a group and cartside collapses in a sad heap of sore ligaments and bones. Still, I always enjoyed it because one yoga class per week meant chasing my loyal companion, the headache, out of my life.

My environmental side probably has always put me into the tree hugger group. Not too extreme, after all, I'm also lazy, but at least I try to avoid using the car, I do recycle, have an allotment and campaign against new motorways.

Which leaves us with hypnosis and homebirth.
To put the record straight: I've never before considered either other than being humbug. I have no explanation to offer, other than I'd rather be at home which I know and where I can entertain myself than in a hospital where people are very ill and often die.
Before I became pregnant, I was utterly scared of childbirth and would never even have considered birth outside of a hospital. I eyed friends who birthed in birthing centres or midwifery units with a sceptical eye and couldn't quite understand them. Now, strangely, the fear has disappeared and all I want is peace and quiet when I go into labour, my beloved, my music, my TV, my candles, my hamster, my everything. In hospital, there's a room, a bed, and not much else. If labour is going to be long, what on earth could ease boredom?

Finally, the hypnosis bit. It's about relaxation and not being afraid of labour, and thus achieving a pain free labour. It's also a lot about breathing techniques, natural birth, being in tune with your body and trusting your body to be able to do it and to do it well. Initially, I signed up for the very expensive course because of my long fear of childbirth. By the time the lessons started, that had disappeared anyway, and while I'm not convinced about pain free labour and all that, the principles of hypnobirthing make sense and can't be wrong. What bothers me slightly is that it has been around since the late 80s and still hasn't made the lunge into the non-English speaking world. It originated in the US and seems to be quite big in some States, and there are a few practioners in the UK. I googled it in Germany, and all I found was a Swiss site of an American practioner now living in Switzerland. Either it's not as good as they pretend it is (because if it was, word would surely go around) or it's simply nothing new. You may call it hypno this and hypno that, at the end of the day it's about relaxation and natural birth which comes in many forms and guises.

I shall give it a go, that's for sure. If it works, great and I'll let you know. If it doesn't, I'm sure it won't do any harm. In the meantime, I'm waiting for my hamster to advise me on whether I should really go the whole way for the homebirth bit.

Recent statistics for asylum applications in the UK show that in addition to an increase in total numbers, the profile of unaccompanied asylum seeking children (i.e. children who arrive in the UK seeking asylum without parents or other guardian) is changing. So far, the vast majority of children were in the 16-18 age group, with very few being under 14. Now, there is a significant increase of under 14 year olds. They now make up 14% of the total of unaccompanied children. Of course, these are just numbers, no reasons or answers.

The Home Office now has a Children's Champion.
Pause for adequate sniggers at the title - I'm sure its bearer doesn't feel too happy about the choice of wording either.
Anyway, this Children's Champion is caring. He will actually read the Children's Act and see how it relates to the way asylum seeking children are treated. He also generously promised to review the welfare of children in detention beyond 28 days.

I thought this was to happen after 21 days and this is already very late.
Not to mention that detention won't contribute greatly to the welfare of any child, so why spend money on a review to establish something that is common sense?
How about not detaining children for such a long time?
And how about asking the crucial question, why are asylum seeking children detained for such a long time, and why are they detained at all?

Sorry, I know I'm repeating myself, but I sit in amazement at words said in a caring tone which are normalising the detention of children for weeks and months, children who have not committed a crime, children who should be at school and at play.

Last Thursday, two asylum seeking children were stabbed by their fellow pupils at a Glasgow school. It made the Evening Times headlines, and even got a short mention on UK wide media. Interestingly though, a similar attack at another school in Glasgow passed by without media attention.

As to the reasons of this difference in treatment, I can only speculate. The incident on Thursday happened at a school which has a track record of successful integration of asylum seekers, active citizenship and campaign work. For one, the school and pupils must have been shocked that this could happen just there. And a school with good media contacts, and with pupils and parents used to speaking to the media, news are likely to travel faster.

Still, no serious fight is straight forward and the media coverage won't tell the whole story. Initially I was surprised that the stabbed children were significantly older than the alleged attackers, as I was surprised that the fight at the other school did not get mentioned in spite of its newsworthy potential (I won't disclose details simply because I don't think there's any benefit of doing this, suffice to say that the schools consider both attacks to indicate that there is a problem that needs to be addressed jointly).

Pupils and teachers seem to agree that the attacks indicate unresolved tensions, which may have a racist undercurrent, but which are by no means straight forward and simple. It is about background and clashes of background, but it may also be about jealousy, teenage angst and a general power struggle between very specific groups of people. This, as such, is normal and to a certain extent unavoidable, but of course the viciousness of the attacks (both used instruments that can cause severe physical harm) indicates that action is needed.

Maybe these attacks give us the opportunity to understand a struggles of identity, race and faith on a deeper level, by engaging with both perpetrators and victims, who in fact may both be either. However, the fact that the stabbing occurred at schools where this engagement has already been happening for over 5 years calls for new approaches and a questioning of the effectiveness of anti-racist work as we know it. Awareness raising and putting yourself into your asylum seeking classmates shoes isn't enough.

At the start of Islamic Awareness Week there will be initial opportunities, but it's not just about Islam and awareness, and it's certainly not about a week.

Between far too many pieces of chocolates, I've been reading a fascinating document.

A bit of history: There was an unannoinced follow-up inspection of Yarl's Wood Detention Centre from 13-16th February this year, and a lengthy report published that, among others, focused on the issue of detention of children. It's well worth a read, don't let the length put you off. It has some striking quotes and is bursting with information.

Now I've got my hands on the comments on the main recommendations that the report made to the Home Office. This is a document which the Home Office tried to withhold, but thanks to freedom of information act and all that, I have a copy in my hand. Can't yet locate it online, so no proper reference folks. It's not quite as exciting, but not less interesting. It is encouraging that most recommendatons were accepted. Some were rejected. Others were accepted in principle or accepted in part. I'm not quite sure about the science of such difference, but would assume that these two categories mean something like "we would like to agree but don't want to / can't quite implement what you're suggesting".

What worries me is that one of the main recommendation has only been partially accepted, but while "partially accepted" sounds pretty good, reading behind the lines doesn't. It's about the detention of children. The recommendation reads that

The detention of children should be excetional and for no more than a few days. Initial authorisation procedures should be strictly followed and an immediate independent welfare and needs assessment carried out, to set out a care plan and inform decisions on continued detention.

I think that's fair enough. In fact, I would argue that children should never be detained, and wouldn't mind if the recommendation went further than it does. The response to the recommendation is that

The detention of families with children is kept to a minimum and the duration of detention closely monitored. A programme of welfare assessments at 21 days is in place and this is carried out  by a full-time social worker. The assessments contain relevant information on all aspects of the child's behaviour and actions while in the centre.

21 days. Oh my.
To start with, why would you need to detain a child for such a long period of time? If detention is a "necessary" part of removal procedures, it shouldn't need to last longer than a day, maybe two days, but definitely no longer than a week.  Something is already very wrong indeed if a child can be imprisoned for 21 days. Having an assessment then implies further detention. Really, at 21 days, the Home Office should be reviewed how they managed to mess things up.

Secondly, what's the point of a health assessment if you neglect the needs of the child for 21 days before you even bother to start addressing the needs of a child who has been put in detention without having committed a crime, a concept utterly incomprehensible to a child. It's as if there are two concepts of this assessment, one to serve the child, the second to prevent/address behavioural problems, in the interest of managing the centre and addressing damage already done to the child.

I don't think that should be classified as "partly accept" but as "utterly reject".

Everybody loves Borat. Believe it or not - you can spend hours browsing the interent for one negative review. In vain. Everyone agrees, Borat is funny, holds a mirror to America and exposes cultural flaws while not taking anyone seriously. He's not just gross and breaks any taboo, he also manages to produce social criticism for the masses.

He is allowed to be anti-semitic because he is a Jew. Having said that, the film isn't actually anti-semitic, it rather exposes anti-semitism as ignorance and racism, and rightly so. The Jews Borat meets are the friendliest people you can imagine and his flight from their B&B is all the more ridiculous.

Yet he treads a very thin line when it comes to other minorities. Particularly open and hidden references to Gypsies are not as clearly exposed to be ignorant stereotypes. As a consequence, a German Gypsy organisation has filed a case against the film, accusing it of inciting racial hatred and belittling violence against Sinti and Roma who, like Jews, were a victim of the National Socialism.

The village Borat presents as his hometown is clearly reminiscent of the public's image of a poor, backward and morally corrupt Gypsy settlement. It isn't spellt out, but everyone gets it. Borat himself,  however, is happy to refer to stinking dead Gypsies, and when trying to buy a car in the USA, he makes sure it won't get damaged if he drives into a Gypsy with it. While he is clearly exposing the lack of reaction to this suggestion on the part of the car salesperson, we do not encounter the friendly Gypsy who exposes Borat, and his comments are only undermined by the general stupidity of his character.

It can be argued that this is sufficient. It can be argued that his references to Gypsies are so outrages that they clearly expose nothing but the stupidity of the person who utters them. However, Gypsies were the vicitim of genocide and still suffer severe persecution and discrimination, so any suggestion that violence against Gypsies is acceptable is problematic. Some people may see them as hilarious because they are outrageous, but let us not forget that in Europe, not so long ago, and even today, Roma are actually being attacked and killed for being Roma.

What I find disconcerting is that almost nobody picked up on this. The only criticism of the Borat film I have come across is the tricking of the villagers into participating in the film under false pretense (which is really the same as for almost everyone else, with the exception that these people are so poor while their exploitation has made Sacha Baron Cohen into an even richer man). The only criticism voiced by your average reviewer has focused on the type of humour, not the implications of it.

I would be grateful for any comments on how people see his portrayal of Gypsies/Roma. Clearly, everyone he portays in the film, including his character, is ridiculed, but is there a difference if this makes use of stereotypes which have led to the actual and attempted genocide in the recent past?

When I started this blog some time at least a year ago, my first idea was to find a space for my travel writing which would enable my friends and family to keep in touch if they so chose, rather than me bombarding them with impersonal emails they didn't really want to get, particularly if written from far away shores and sunny places. I know what it feels like on a drioch and windy day to get emails from trips around Burma, and I do keep them for reading when I feel less pished off with the weather (Sorry V, I know I asked for them, and very keen to read them some time very soon!).

I also meant to find a space for making my academic writing available for a handful of people who may be interested in reading them. Not assuming anyone would be mind you. No illusions there, but better than not sharing them.

Then I came across other pieces of writing in cupboards (read: hard disks) and I added them on. Only then did I get into reading blogs, and realising the beauty of chit chat, the joy of reading a alternative journalism and political blogs, as well as expat blogs. So I started to post regularly about whatever took my fancy.

I knew very well from the start that the greatest thing about blogs is that it's your own personal space for better or worse. I knew about the dangers of exposing yourself and treaded lightly on that side, keeping it sort of, but not entirely anonymous. You can in fact find out my name on this site. I also loved the initially small civiblog community and still read some of the blogs on it regularly. I was also aware that most blogs are either single issue based or very personal, and mine was a combination, which wouldn't attrack a massive readership nor lots of comments.

It never came easy to me to blog about personalish stuff on the same site which also blogs about asylum issues - but I also know that friends far away from me do sometimes read my blog, and I don't get the time to phone regularly or even email as much as I would like. And when it comes down to it, it's a fairer representation of who I am. So this space IS both personal and public, it is both for my friends and total strangers interested in the issues that catch my eye.

Now, a political comment I made on a political based blog was responded to not with anything to do with my comment, but a reference to my personal situation. While I greet the fact that someone went to the trouble of reading my blog, and it is well possible that no offence or badwill was intended, indeed, the intention may have been entirely friendly, yet I feel ridiculed. Ridiculed that my comment was not worthy of being responded to on a contents basis. Ridiculted because I share personal stuff that others writing political or issue based blogs may not. Ridiculed that my writing is insignificant, rubbish and cuold be done without.

Suddenly it dawns on me that even blogging on a site with hardly any readers at all, I am putting myself forward for a kind of attention which I have always dreaded and loathed. For a good few days I struggled to decide whether to ignore it or confront it. I've done neither, but it keeps nagging. I'm probably paranoid, but so be it.

And I simply don't have a decent ending for this post. 

Can someone, preferrably the Home Office or any of the temporary Immigration Ministers please explain to me what is going on in their minds, offices, desks and files?

There is a family who sought asylum in the UK. I spare you the details, but basically, they were given leave to remain through the one off family amnesty, I think that was 2004 or thereabouts. Now, after having doshed out £400 to apply for citizenship and a passport (you see, you can only travel outside of the UK as a refugee if you become a citizen, leave to remain is rather like duty to remain in this case), they were now told that they broke immigration law by receiving leave to remain through the family amnesty. Why? Sorry, don't know. Nobody told them they were breaking the law, including their lawyer. And now? Unclarity about immigration status, renewed fear of deportation, loss of £400 which is a lot of money to them, and cheekily they were asked to pay out the same amount again to get travel documents.

You really really really don't want to be an asylum seeker in this country.

The verdict is low risk. It's a strange label, and I never thought it could mean so much as to bring me to the edge of tears of relief. There are no guarantees of course, but after the NHS messing up appointments, timings and actually tests that I thought would be offered as a matter of course, this is as good as it gets.

I'm still overwhelmed by the two words. I didn't realise how worried I actually was/am.

Now it's time for hypnobirthing.... more about this later.

This isn't funny anymore. I feel like a hot air balloon with a piece of lead in its middle. Strangely, this is my new evening feeling. Post tea time to be precise. I eat and half an hour later, my stomach sends signals of agony out and refuses to let my body or brain do anything but lie down and wait until the pain subsides.

I think this is called indigestion. I also think it may have something to do with being pregnant. On the other hand, I'm hungry, and if I eat as much as I normally do, or as much as my appetite tells me, I'm done for the evening, a wreck on the sofa.

Luckily I have some reason and an ability to learn. In this case, it means to mistrust my appetite. So I no longer eat a big meal in the evening (or at any time of the day for that matter), yet I still have a very painful tummy. Not quite as agonisingly painful, but still. And, regretfully, the pudding just won't go in.

Maybe I should start with the pudding tomorrow. At least I'd know what the punishment is for then. If this is the game for the remaining 17 weeks, well good night.