And it's even harder when you're Muslim

No really it is. Why, you ask? Oh that one's easy. I went to the Icount march some months ago in London, a very large environmental protest which convened in Trafalgar Square. I remember I came right at the end and squeezed into the crowd that had gathered. After the rudimentaty speeches, I stood there in the middle of a bunch of hippies, listening to the latest in British Rock music being performed on the stage, whilst the crowd swayed and sang along. Did I feel out of place? Possibily, although I found it interesting to be witnessing my first mass live music performance as if I was at Glastonbury. Imagine that, A hijabi at Glastonbury! Whether I felt out of place or not didn't in the least change the fact that I LOOKED out of place. No, I didn't look out of place- I STUCK OUT LIKE A SORE THUMB. I am pretty sure the hippies were looking at me and thinking "whaaaa? What the hell is she doing here? This is not a Palestine march, hmm she must have gotten confused, or taken a wrong turn, or just plain misunderstood, she probably doesn't even speak English." The only people who made me feel remotely welcome were the communists who were only trying to convert me, and were happy because I was the only one who actually stopped to listen to them. Some of those communists didn't even know what the march was about. When one girl wrote in chalk on the tarmac floor 'disposable cups are for mugs' a communist guy at a nearby stall said 'Yeah I love disposable cups!'.

I tried to look in vain for the only Muslims who I knew would be there, the ones from IFEES, and even they had come as part of an inter-faith contingent. Inter-faith! As if two people have anything in common just because they both happen to have a 'faith'. But that is as much as the modern world cares to cater for religion. Ever notice how public prayer rooms are now stressed as 'inter-faith' prayer rooms? Like the one in heathrow airport, for example, where once a Sikh guy took over the women's side because he wanted to pray in privacy, leaving the Muslim men and women to pray in the same room, right after they had to do wudhu in the shared toilets, of course.

Anyway, I digress.

So I left the Icount march embittered and lonely, and went right back to my mosque where everyone chucks away disposable cups without a care, and stares at me as I drink from the mug I have brought from home.

I'm Farm Fresh

I woke up this morning like I usually do in the mornings, as the morning is want to make you do.... and I noticed I was a bit low on groceries. As I was about to set off to the miserable dank cornershop down the road to buy low brand groceries that try to pose as big corporate ones, or at least emulate them, I remembered the weekly Farmers' Market at Finchley road that takes place every Wednesday. I thought, 'what the hey', I had a few extra monies in my purse, I could afford to pay a bit extra and make up for it by being more frugal. It was a lovely day, although the sun was very strong, and I made the brave trek across the many kilometres of hot concrete and rode in a stuffy carriage of the london transport system to support what I think is a great idea.London Farmers' Markets (LFM) was started in 1999 by Nina Planck who was only 28 at the time. An american journalist who had come to work in London and the daughter of fruit vegetable growers in virginia, Nina was shocked at the stark lack of fresh food available in London.Thanks to this ambitious young woman, there are currently 16 farmers' markets running weekly in the greater London area and they are a smallholders' dream. The markerts operate on a strict policy; you are only permitted to sell food grown 100 miles within the M25, and what's more, you are only allowed to sell what you yourself have produced- no middle men or rogue traders. This way the customers know exactly where their food is coming from: from the hands that farmed it. This is local food in its truest form. The humble smallholders found they were able to increase their meagre incomes by 75 per cent by selling at farmers' markets. It is evident that LFM has the local economy at its centre of priorities, and not in a parochial sense. It is inevitably based on a philosophy of economic localisation the world over.And so I found myself once again in the car park of Sainsbury's- where Finchley Road Farmers' Market is held. The timid stalls in the shadow of big corporate power are like a slap in the face, but economically speaking, more like a tickle. Nonetheless, its brave and defiant, and I can buy honey from a beekeeper! Today I bought my usual muddy potatoes, spinach leaves, asparagus, strawberries, bread, butter and cheese. Do I ever get bored of the food? Well its not the only food I eat, but it may be interesting to see what kinds of recipes Nina Planck has in her book, 'The Farmers' Market Cookbook'- recipes which are, of course, based only on the ingredients that can be bought at British Farmers' Markets. Undoubtedly, there will always be a need to import food, there always has been- but this is a great move towards a food production process which has a minimal impact on the environment and which will encourage socio-economic and hence political localisation. It is a move towards creating a direct lunk between grower and buyer- you know what you're buying because you can see who produced it (that's a fairtrade guarantee for you!) It's just that one step away from growing it yourself, and as I'm not going to be growing nearly half my food myself, at least anytime soon, it's the closest thing I have to a connection with the land. When I walk amongst the stalls of a farmers' market, in the outdoors, on a beautiful sunny day, I really feel like I'm buying food.