Ms M was very interested in the Second World War and we kept reading books related to it – fiction and non-fiction – for the longest time. I was going to write summaries and/or reviews, but I am in a blue funk because my digi-cam has gone wonky.

So here is a list of books we like… reviews will come later in shaa Allah… when my good humour is restored…

Reference

• Eyewitness: World War II (Eyewitness Books) by DK Publishing
• Navajo Code Talkers by Nathan Aaseng
• The Usborne Introduction to The Second World War: Internet-linked (Hardcover)
  by Paul Dowswell
• Unsung Heroes of World War II: The Story of the Navajo Code Talkers by Deanne Durrett
• World War II for Kids: A History with 21 Activities (For Kids series) (Paperback)
  by Richard Panchyk

Stories/Chapter Books by Michael Morpurgo

• Alone on a Wide Wide Sea
• Billy the Kid
• Friend or Foe
• I Believe In Unicorns
• Kensuke’s Kingdom
• The Amazing Story of Adolphus Tips
• The Mozart Question
• Waiting for Anya

Other Chapter Books

• Anne Frank: The Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank
• Goodnight Mr Tom by Michelle Magorian
• Number the Stars by Lois Lowry
• The Eternal Spring of Mr. Ito by Sheila Garrigue
• The Upstairs Room by Johanna Reiss
• War Boy: A Country Childhod by Michael Foreman
• When My Name Was Keoko by Linda Sue Park

Picture Books, etc.

• Always Remember Me: How One Family Survived World War II by Marisabina Russo
• Boxes for Katje by Candace Fleming
• Home of the Brave by Allen Say
• Passage to Freedom: The Sugihara Story by Ken Mochizuki
• The Butterfly by Patrcia Polacco
• The Bracelet by Yoshiko Uchida
• The Cats in Krasinski Square by Karen Hesse
• The Greatest Skating Race: A World War II Story from the Netherlands by Louise Borden
• The Lily Cupboard by Shulamith Levey Oppenheim
• The Little Ships: The Heroic Rescue at Dunkirk in World War II by Louise Borden
• The Unbreakable Code by Sara Hoagland Hunter
• Twenty and Ten by Claire Huchet Bishop
• Willy and Max by Willy and Max: A Holocaust Story by Amy Littlesugar

In “To Kill A Mockingbird”, Scout says about Maycomb:

“A day was twenty-four hours long but seemed longer. There was no hurry, for there was nowhere to go, nothing to buy and no money to buy it with…”

That pretty much sums up how I feel about the village. It is a quiet sleepy place where folks would saunter over and sit a spell.

Just outside the madrasah gate was a small herd of goats. A few visits later, Ms M made friends with one of the shepherds and got to pat one of his goats. She said they had cute little heads and friendly smiles :)

As we drove home that evening, we saw the village folk walking home. I saw a boy herding his buffaloes to a large pond for their well-earned rest and drink. The silhouette of their figures in the dusk made a picturesque sight. I didn’t get a snapshot of it, but I guess I didn’t need to. I have the memory and it is quite enough…

OK, back to Dadi’s madrasah …

The school is large but it is by no means luxurious. The walls are smooth and clean but unpainted. Similarly, the floors are bare cement. The girls sit at simple desks for lessons and sleep on mattresses which are stacked neatly come morning. Since the madrasah relies on donations, money is prudently saved and even more carefully spent. Almost every piece of furniture is donated and pre-owned. The only items which seemed remotely grand were framed Qur’anic verses beautifully inscribed on papyrus. Even these were donations … from a terminally ill man who wanted to contribute to the madrasah.

Still, the place has a quaint and unique charm. There is tranquility that fosters contentment and at the same time, provides the ideal atmosphere for focus on academic and spiritual pursuits.

My daughters could not wait to help prepare the meals. A lady who lives close by comes in during the late morning everyday to prepare the students’ meals. Patient and ever so smiley, Aunty let my kids experiment as much as they liked.

Ms M preparing roti

Hers is no kitchen of dreams. She has only a little shed-like structure where the groceries are kept, washed and prepared. Vegetables are held over and cut directly into the cooking pot – no chopping boards for this chef! Her stove is a tandoor – a clay, coal-fed (well, in this case, wood) oven.

Here you can see how the cook prepares the tandoor. She has some wood lit – branches, scraps and whatever else she can get her hands on.

Here is another view of the oven. Maybe it would have been better if they had built it away from the wall – it is blackened from the smoke!

They don’t eat meat very often there but this was a special occasion :) Aunty’s signature chicken curry was in the works… Spicy and a little oily, but mouthwatering all the same. It isn’t easy cooking over the tandoor, I think, since it is hard to control the fire.

When the curry was done, the fire was doused with some water so only a small fire and glowing embers remained. Time for the roti – a flatbread made of wheat flour – to be cooked. Aunty had already prepared a mountain of dough. She rolled pats of dough into little balls and then expertly pinched them to form flat rounds. These were then flipped quickly from one hand to the other in a clapping motion to make them thinner and then speedily slapped onto the walls of the tandoor to bake. All done completely by hand with nary a rolling pin in sight! :)

I’m not a big fan of roti – I prefer rice or the less healthy parathas made of refined flour and ghee – but this roti was delicious. The outer shell was crispy while the inside was soft and fluffy. Here are the results of Ms M’s efforts :)

Lovely stuff ma shaa Allah…

More in Part 3 in shaa Allah…

French Toast… desi style :)

Chopped onions, coriander leaves, green chilli and ground spices like turmeric, coriander, chilli and garam masala were added to the egg mixture.

I wasn’t kidding when I said everything must be taken with spice in this continent!

My mother-in-law, a sheer dynamo of social activism, runs charitable and da`wah projects. Several years ago, she was determined to do something to help the poor and illiterate in the rural areas. My late father-in-law (may Allah bless him with the highest of Paradise, ameen) donated land to her and she got the wheels in motion. She got her friends and other sponsors to back her and proceeded to build a school for girls in Bara Gawa, Jehlum.

Yes, she built a school :)

I’ve had the pleasure of visiting her school several times. Ms M and Bear love the gaoo (village). The girls love everything rural and rustic and find everything in the village a delight. They spend hours outdoors and even try to make friends with the goats.

Bear and Dadi trudging to the madrasah

A few summers ago, we made a trip to the madrasah. We drove the madrasah’s APV – fondly referred to as the dubba (box) – but due to a broken bridge, had to park a distance away and walk the rest of the way. We saw a few interesting things like this river which had gone dry…

… and teelay – hillocks and dunes… This is a typical landscape of rain-fed land in Pakistan.

As we got closer to the madrasah, the girls got really excited. Since Dadi is the principal, we get VIP treatment :)

Just outside the madrasah walls now…

Dadi’s madrasah was modelled along the lines of her family home in Rawalpindi. Much of that home has been sectioned off and sold but in its heyday, it was a sprawling mansion with a large courtyard. She has fond memories of her childhood there, so she decided to replicate it in this sleepy village.

The photograph below shows a two-storey building – the lower floor consists of the classrooms and the second, the dormitory. The roof-top has a kitchen and serves as an open-roofed dining area for the girls on sunny days.

When I first visited the place though, some six years ago, it was only a one-storey building. My mother-in-law didn’t have sufficient funds to proceed with the construction. Rather than delay the girls’ education, she decided to open the school anyway with only the classrooms completed. Her plans for the hostel/dorms were postponed but alhamdulillah, has come to fruition with the help of many well-meaning sponsors.

It is Dadi’s vision that graduates of her school return to their respective villages and educate their people. This has already commenced with her first batch of students. It pleases me to see how hard some people are striving, quietly but determinedly, to improve the lives of those who are in need. Alhamdulillah, change has begun.

More in Part 2 in shaa Allah.