Hamilton Spectator

This country is one of contrasts. Red-dirt roads cross lush- green landscapes. People familiar with war smile easily and greet you genuinely. Beauty meets ugliness, plenty meets want, and life meets death here. Uganda may be, as Winston Churchill said, the Pearl of Africa. But, if so, it's a tarnished jewel.

Today, Jean and I, with our bright-eyed bambino, Elizabeth, are on a jet plane flying back to Yemen. Our condo in Ancaster is again a speck that has disappeared over the horizon.

You don't need to be a flaming, bleeding-heart liberal or a limp- wristed lefty to see that it's a man's world when it comes to some basic privileges in life.

(The Hamilton Spectator - Friday, June 20, 2003) Nobody knew. Prior to the birth of our first child, two weeks ago today at St. Joseph’s Hospital here in Hamilton, Jean and I kept her name, Elizabeth top-secret from absolutely everyone. “It’s from the Bible and it’s not Dorcas,” is all I would reveal, before adding, “If and when we have a boy, we have a biblical name for him too. And it’s not Nimrod.” So imagine the confirmation we felt when, prior to our return to Canada for the delivery, some western friends in Yemen said good-bye to us by reading the biblical story of Elizabeth.

Dr. David Livingstone, celebrated explorer and missionary to Africa, was once asked by a group back in England, "Have you found a good road to where you are? We want to send others to join you." "If you have men who will come only if they know there is a good road, I don't want them," he replied. "I want men who will come even if there is no road at all."

Sunday is Mother's Day, and I'm reminded that I've never held my mother, looked into her eyes and told her that I love her. I've never offered a soft kiss on her cheek. I've never even given my mother flowers. My mom died before I got the chance.

Telling Lies in Iraq is my choice for the name of the flick we can only hope will be made about former Iraqi minister of misinformation Mohammed Saeed Sahaf. If it's anything like a satirical Web site on this new cult figure, a site that once had an incredible 4,000 hits per minute, this movie will be stunning.

Jean and I are packing to return to Hamilton to deliver our first child. And at the top of my to-do-in-Hamilton list, besides "get diapers for the bambino," is watch a big, fat movie. There's a single theatre here in Sana'a, a town of one million, but considering it's infested with rats or something similarly revolting, I've avoided it.

Trying to galvanize sagging troops, one of Saddam Hussein's last public pronouncements was recently to formally call for Muslims everywhere to join his ranks and fight Islamic jihad, or holy war. Should we care?

Washington admits that it wants to shape the entire Middle East into a kinder place. Sooner or later, that goal may take the U.S. to Yemen's terrorist haven.

"We're going to err on the side of caution and stay in the house for a few days," is what I told a friend during a phone chat yesterday morning. Our self-imposed house arrest would mean Jean and I would miss a friend's birthday party and a weekly gathering of friends. Not much of a sacrifice, considering a few hours later four Yemeni protesters, including an 11-year-old boy, lay dead on the streets of this capital city. They were killed by Yemeni police guarding the American embassy.

If there is a time for everything -- a time to search and a time to give up, a time for love and a time for hate -- it would appear it's time for the Americans to blow Saddam and all that is his to Kingdom Come.

The Yanks' war plan sounds solid enough on paper. Capture land in Iraq quickly. Use it to set up bases for further attacks. Bomb Saddam's palaces and cut command centres from the rest of the country to quicken the government's collapse. Then make a seamless transition to military occupation. Don't get caught in ugly street fighting. Deliver food. Get Iraqis involved with a new economic plan. Unfurl the flag of democracy.

Fear is a funny thing. Along with other Commonwealth citizens, Jean and I were recently informed that most staff members of the British Embassy here are leaving and that we should consider the same.

It's Valentine's Day. Great fun. Two years ago today, I proposed to Jean. Her ring was presented in a restaurant, with the help of the official town crier, his booming voice, clanging bell and scroll. Moments later, along with thousands of others in London, Ont., we heard about our upcoming "royal wedding" on the radio.