So I’ve been researching about name change in Quebec.

 Since 1981, in a vague of feminist movement and in an attempt to put man and woman on an equal stand vis à vis the legal system, it became unlawful  in Québec for a newly wed woman to take on the name of her husband. And there does not seem to be a way around it either.

By law, you can proceed in two ways if you want to have a name change. One  is through a legal course of action. This mainly applies to a child ‘in the event of abandonment by the father or mother, loss of parental authority or change of filiation upon adoption, for example.’ Understandable so far.

The other one is a change of name through administrative course of action. In this instance, The Directeur de l’état civil (Registrar of civil status) has to approve all name changes. However your application for a name change has to be based on serious reasons:

- You are now using, and have been continously using for a minimum of five years, a surname or given name that is not the same as that appearing on your act of birth. It must be a surname or give name that you use in all your personal, professional and social activites.

- Your name is of foreign origin or is too difficult to promounce or write in its orginal form. 

- Your name lends itself to ridicule or has become infamous.

- The registrar may also examine a name change application for any other serious reason that you present.

So if you want to take on the name of your husband for example you would have to wait 5 years, use his name consistently in ever sphere of your life even though legally it is not your name, confuse your friends, your bank, your doctor, your coworkers, Huamn Resource during 5 years, apply for the change, confuse everyone all over again. Oh and there is also an application fee of $300 à $400.  
Then you have to go to each governmental agency to present your name change paper (if accepted) and get them to change your name on your new cards for which, of course, you would have to pay a fee.

Would it not have been simpler to have a choice like in every other Province in Canada?

”Also, did you know that if you yell for nine years, you’ll produce enough sound energy to heat one cup of coffee ? ”

” I didn’t.”

I’m sorry  but don’t you think I am too young too die? I have not see my sister since sheleft for school last year. My cousin’s birthday is actually in two days, today was just a little pre celebration.
We were not driving fast, atleast I don’t think so, … were we?

I was not the one driving, it’s not fair – what did he have to say?
Oh but my mother, what about my mother… i did not clean my room, … my father

I think I’m afraid. Come on I promise I”ll, sigh
Wait what are those? hey hold on a sec, where? how?

This is it.

It seems that I have become very sensitive to what is going on around me these days. It maybe due to leaving this special place in two weeks. I know I have mentioned this before but that’s the word that comes to mind when people ask me how I am feeling so close to my departure from the Holy Land: Grateful, grateful for being able to practice my faith without any fear of retribution.

I was intently staring at some email on my screen when Colleen said that more Baha’is in Iran have been arrested. My heart just stopped for a sec and I had this very uneasy feeling.

In my last year of Uni one of my assignments for my media class was to make a video about an issue of social justice – famine, poverty, racism… My friends and I decided to do it about the situation in Iran and how Baha’i students of our age were denied education simply based on their beliefs. We collected a lot of information from the net, from various documents that had already been prepared to raise awareness and we interviewed students. From the information obtained, was a very poignant picture of a man who had been martyred. I remember that picture pretty well because of some Farsi words that had been inscribed on him after his death. The video would then be screened for all the students at Uni and a special screening would take place with General Romeo Dallaire as the guest of honour. Coincidentally, he was also the one who drew parallels between the Genocide in Rwanda and the alarming situation of the Baha’is in Iran.

A few months ago, I went to a talk given by a certain lady that had lived in Iran and who had also faced persecution for being a baha’i. As she was about to depart the Holy Land a last talk was organised so that the friends could hear of her story and of her courage in the face of trials and thus inspire us youth. Her story was very moving and many of us cried that night – for me it was the first time that I was hearing someone speaking firsthand about the persecution that the Bahais undergo in Iran. After telling her story, part of which was about her husband who had been imprisoned and later executed she showed us pictures of him before and after being executed and of her house after it had been searched. Of the pictures of her husband was the picture that I had used for my video project.

Yesterday again six of them were arrested in early-morning raids at their homes in Teheran, Iran.

http://news.bahai.org/story/632

I just finished reading  ‘The History of Love’ and its one of the best books I’ve read so far. The style is interesting, using multiple narrators to tell seemingly different stories.  Don’t let the title fool you either, its more interesting than that.

A couple of days after starting my service in the Holy Land, I received an email inviting people over  for a devotional meeting that is held regularly every 19 days. I have always been meaning to attend but life always seem to get in the way (or rather….). But last night, 8 months after receiving that invitation and 4 months before leaving this place, I finally made it!

I’m really glad I went, the atmosphere was convivial and welcoming and we had readings and prayers alternated with a few songs. I suddenly felt as if I was part of a small Baha’i community again. Afterwards some of us shared news of our respective communities, or of the ones we had recently visited. We heard of the success of IPGs and of the very warm community in Addis Ababa, Ethiopia, of the exciting new developments in a town not far from Rio, Brazil and of the teaching efforts of the friends in Huntsville Alabama, USA.

Then I suddenly felt sad. I was talking to a friend of mine earlier this week and his community had recently been faced with a crisis. Children classes and juniour youth empowerment programs had stopped since then. It was then very clear to me that the concept of crisis and victory is constantly in operation. Last week was rich in event for the Baha’i community with the news from Egypt and Iran. Although in some parts of the world things seems to be difficult and without hope, in other parts victories are being registered everyday.

Happy Brazilians!

Workmates

Waffle place!

Crazy artsy techy

Haifa from T19

Haifa Bay

windy new year’s eve

Today was marked by the discovery of an old journal of a dear friend and with it some feelings of self-consciousness, for him. For me it was more a recount of pretentious phases, illuminating moments, a certain crudeness with words and struggling moments with one’s passion.

It’s an interesting experience to know the person now and to read him back then.  It’s like seeing a draft of someone that will later be elaborated and refined with some parts being added and others removed. Reading the journal, I found the early stages of many then emerging ideas that are now well-developed; struggles which have been long-won and some others which are still on. Talking about it with him brought up feelings of being teenagers again and many a memory now worth a reflective smile.

I was reading mine 6 months ago and I too had that same feeling of self-consciousness. Not sure why we are almost embarassed of what we were, did we expect ourselves to be little perfect beings right away? Although I’m sure that at that time we did not think we were embarassing at all. In any case we were who we were and maybe we should all look at the past with Edith Piaf’s “Non, je ne regrette rien” playing in our heads.

Any 31st December – 1st January outside of Mauritius without firecrackers, Amanda, Pamela, my balcony (reminiscence of Romeo that lead to tirom), smoky roads at midninght, Sonoo’s famous (or unfamous) ‘pétards’, non-alcoholic champagne, my mother’s tireless and spotless cleaning in the days preceding, the eternal washing and changing of curtains, lists of gifts and anticipation of those coming on the 1st of Jan, the exceptional shopping at London supermarket with 2 carts ( one of which is filled with all sorts of drinks only..) ; the one time of the year where Gavin and I get to chose any of the snacks we want and pile them up, going to the temple with my Dad, my grandparents, countless running back and forth between upstairs (my place) and downstairs (my gparents’ place), the famous ‘Moolkoos’ and endless ‘Coca’, the traditional dinners and lunch, annual visits to family and neighbours  creates a longing for me to be back there in my homeland. Thats the period of the year I miss Mauritius and my family the most because it was such a happy time (at least in my memory).
After 3 years of celebrating or rather not celebrating New Year in Canada, 2007 – 2008 new years was actually not bad at all. It started out with having no plans at all and depressing at having another crappy new year again to a call from Vidya inviting me over for dinner. Then going home after work, we ran into Marjan and Sam and we all spontaneously decided to go have waffles at that amazing place and  watch the fireworks at T19.