Caaaaake!

I walked into Rashimi's room yesterday morning and said: 'Happy Birthday.' And he responded: 'Caaaaaaaake!' Pavlovian dogs, I think is the phrase that fits this bill.

We had a riotous day, with a multinational contingent as always. The Lozenge's friend, 'Faisthal' came along with his mother and the Lozenge and he spent the entire party wrestling with each other. They are almost exactly the same size and weight, though Faisal is five, so neither of them got injured, unlike when the Lozenge takes on Rashimi…

Underneath, I was a little tainted with sadness. The Glammy's last day is Monday, and Sayyad the wonderful Egyptian janitor is leaving to see his family in Egypt for a couple of months so we may not see him before we leave here. They have been the loving cement for our first year in the Arab world, and as the Glammy admitted to me this morning, 'I look back on this year and it seems as unreal and wonderful as a film I watched, but one that I was actually playing a part in.'

I've finished my book on Gaza and have moved onto 'A Life of Montaigne in one question and twenty attempts at an answer,' by Sarah Bakewell. It's a fascinating insight into a life lived and documented in 16th Century France. Montaigne's parents made the extraordinary decision to send him to live in the house of his wet nurse until he was between one and two years old, so he would always be imbued with the sense of how the real people (read: peasants) lived, and would be in touch with this. Then, when he returned to his own family's household, they spoke only Latin to him, learning the language as they went along themselves, to ensure he would also have the highest educational level of speech at the same time as understanding the real world.

Though we cannot claim to have gone to this extreme with our own children, the presence of personalities like Sayyad, Abu Mohammad, the Glammy, and now St Grace, will I'm sure have an impact in a significant way, on how our dwarves see the world. Being here, and absorbing all of this, will stay in a small part of their souls forever - even if they never know it themselves. It's something I'm extremely grateful for, and will never forget.