Stories of Hope and Home

We talk a lot about food. It is definitely one of our very favourite topics of conversation! Probably because food is so rich in memories and associations, so deeply embedded in the human experience of life and community. Many of our conversations about our lives either start with or come back to memories of sharing food with others. Back in June, we were lucky enough to have a virtual visit from the Scottish Poet Makar, Jackie Kay ( find her @jackiekaypoet on twitter ) In conversation with our group she shared three of her poems, two of which connected food with other associations or experiences. It inspired us to do the same. Several months and a large number of tangential conversations later ... *        *        *  I left behind attieke and grilled tilapia  Even in my grave I will remember the gorgeous taste of this delicious food  Two years have passed, but still I have the taste on my tongue, from eating it with my friends.  I also left behind my sunny beaches  I left behind deli

There are, we know, lots of refugee stories accompanied by images of tents. Often they are stories from Calais, or from other transition points on long and difficult journeys. They are stories which need to be told and need to be heard.  For some of those who are part of the Stories of Hope and Home project this is part of their story. But it is never the whole story.  And however important they may be, these are not the stories we want to tell today. Today, we want to tell a very different story accompanied by images of tents. From almost as soon we got back from our wonderful trip to Wales in February, a summer residential was definitely on our agenda. An opportunity to take time out from our everyday lives, to create safe space to build community and share stories.   And then, Corona Virus happened and, like so many plans, it seemed like it would be impossible.  Even as lockdown gradually eased, much of what we might have liked to do was still well outside what seemed safe and reali