Week of Books - The Naked Don't Fear

 

The Naked Don't Fear the Water
Matthieu Aikins

You tended to look at the next person's fear to see if it was more or less than your own. We had to act confident for each other's sake.
(page 119)

I finished this book a couple weeks ago, and am still thinking about it. In an effort to be more aware of global issues and cultural topics, I have been more keen to broaden my horizons with books that are a departure from where my comfortable zone usually takes me in my reading. I want to be a widely read bookish soul.

I was riveted by the storytelling and beauty of prose in Matthieu's book. He is a Canadian journalist who has been reporting/living in Kabul, Afghanistan for more than ten years. He went undercover with an Afghan friend, Omar, as a refugee, and wrote about the experience and journey. It is quite an adventure, full of danger, darkness, and some human kindness along the way. But it is harrowing reality for those who are trying to escape to Europe for better lives and opportunity. Visas are very difficult to come by, and paperwork is either very expensive or not granted for most. The borders creates these kinds of conditions - the tougher the borders, the more opportunities for the ill-intended minds. Not only are smugglers an essential part of those refugees trying to get out, but it is a dangerous choice to use smugglers for so many reasons.

This book so beautifully brings to light the fact that we are all human together, and yet we have created such walls and divisions in our world that place others at immediate disadvantage and suffering. Who is considered a refugee? Matthieu asks. Through this book, we see through the eyes of an observant writer who shows us these scenes and takes us on this journey that could be our own.

For years now, blending in for my own safety had been a habit. In turn, passing as an Afghan had made me aware of how, as an Asian face abroad, I had to perform my own Western identity if I wanted to wield its privilege. The American ring to my voice, the way I made eye contact, the clothes I wore - these were levers that could shift the world. Passing, in this sense, is a universal condition, wrote Asad Haider.
(page 101)