Return to Haiti

I look out my window and there is a wall of pastel coloured houses climbing up the mountainside, it
looks to me almost like a Lego construction, gone a little wrong. The houses seem impossibly conjoined, wallpapering the mountainside like a 3D image.

I must admit it's not the image of Haiti that I remember from my time here in 2010. I saw them then, and I remember commenting on how so much of this seemingly fragile community survived, but at that time I was concentrating on the destruction in the valley and the city below these houses. A lot has changed in 4 years, both for me and for Haiti.

Four years ago I spent 8 weeks here with the Salvos: an amazing group of people served a community of 20,000 displaced people in Delmas 2 and initiated numerous other recovery and rebuilding programs. (Have a look at my blogs from July/August 2010) Today I returned with World Vision and I come to see the work (about 6,500 children and their families are supported) that Australian's support on La Gonave, an island just off the mainland, and to finalise the transition process for a displaced people's camp in Port-au-Prince. There are still about 100,000 people in temporary housing.

The unprecedented outpouring of funds to the country has ended, the influx of every kind of NGO and Aid provider has retreated, the country that was the poorest in the western hemisphere is still the poorest, the people are still amongst the most vulnerable and there are still people here, very passionate, committed people wanting and trying to make a difference. The Salvos are still working in areas no other NGO will go, including World Vision;  World Vision is still working in some of the poorest and most vulnerable Haitian communities that have been ignored by Haiti's own systems.

As I drove into town from the airport some of my first impressions included: the condition of the roads are still amongst the worst I have ever travelled on; the traffic is still utterly chaotic, at one point on a road two lanes wide 4 lanes are created, 3 going into town and 1 out, before they all try to merge into one to enter a roundabout; there are open areas where 4 years ago there were thousands of temporary houses; there are small piles of rubble, cleared slabs and some new buildings going up where there were huge piles of rubble and there are still white UN vehicles driving like they own the roads.

The problems associated with the 2010 earthquake are innumerable, but amongst them is the fact that many seem to be acting like they have done their bit, they have given much to Haiti and now it should be fine and there are so many other places in the world that need help. But Haitians still need help, children still need access to quality education and health systems and parents still need help to improve their capacity to provide for their children.

Participatory Grace

This morning at home in Melbourne, before standing under a wonderful warm shower, I filled the kettle from the tap and boiled the water without fire. And I was thankful!

Not so long ago I sat in the shade of a tree with a small group of people who have no taps in their homes – in fact some have no ‘home’, but rather a concrete or wooden box. The water they get comes from the ground, some will walk up to 8km a day to collect it and it will be contaminated with salt, arsenic and other chemicals from fertilisers. They drain it through a cloth to filter out the solids before using it. Some of them will collect firewood if they can find any in this arid place, the lucky one or two will buy and carry a gas bottle to their home. They’ll cook their lentils and leaves in the brackish orange water and they’ll wash themselves which will result in many having skin conditions. But this is not unusual; over 884 Million people around the world do not have access to clean water; every 21 seconds a child will die from water related illness. (That’s about 2 in the time you started reading.)

So when I come home and turn on a tap, believe me, I am thankful. But it wears off, my thankfulness is not long lasting, nor is it particularly transformative. After a few days, I take my fortune and my privilege for granted - that is until I go back overseas and see the people again.

It is great to be thankful, all the major faith traditions encourage believers to live lives of thankfulness, but, unless it is just about making myself feel good and religiously safe, it is not enough. It is good to reflect each day on what I am thankful for, but I cannot help but ask “so what”? Surely thankfulness is only a catalyst, (or perhaps the yeast).

My thankfulness has to translate into something else; something beyond words or it is just a temporary feel good. Thankfulness has to be embedded into who I am. Thankfulness has to inform what I do, how I act, it has to be brought to life.

Thankfulness is a catalyst for graciousness; graciousness is the act of extending respect, decency, (humanity) and undeserved favour to others. When thankfulness is held captive in my soul it must result in acts of acceptance, solidarity, respect and favour becoming normal practice in my living. This participatory grace does not ask: “who are you, where are you from, who do you worship, or even, why do you deserve it?” Instead my thankfulness transforms my selfish inclinations and responds in grace and love: “I have seen you - can I help?”

Words of thankfulness must translate into and inform acts of Participatory Grace.
_________

May God be gracious to us as we choose not to ignore;
May God equip us as we animate our thankfulness into acts of participatory grace;
May the God of Hope guide us – always.

Gaza Crisis Risks Long-term Problems for Children

In February last year I crossed through a heavily fortified border crossing (Erez) into North Gaza. I was going in to monitor an Australian government funded program with a mental health specialist. One of the components of the program is psychological first aid (PFA): training ordinary people (adults and children) how to assist those who have survived crises. At one of the schools I visited, (now rubble) I watched a trainer teaching teenagers how to "look, listen, link". 

I listened to children sing songs about freedom and watched as they danced and played, I visited home gardens, tomato greenhouses and strawberry farms that only 3 months before had been bombed in the most recent 'incursion', but now were rebuilt. I listened to stories of resilience, but frustration and confusion. The area of North Gaza I visited, the streets I walked, the building I worked in are all rubble now - but more importantly the people I sat with, the children I listened to are again suffering. 

PFA is a surprisingly simple yet extremely powerful tool that, for a number of years now, has been assisting the people of Gaza. (We have also used it in the North of Sri Lanka.) In response to this latest war, Alison Schafer, the person I travelled with, the architect of our PFA program who has a lot of experience in Gaza and one of the authors of this tool made these comments:

As missiles rain down on Gaza, the war is exacting a huge psychological toll on children, which will plague the region for decades to come according to a World Vision mental health and psychosocial support specialist.

Alison Schafer says most human beings have a remarkable capacity to recover naturally from a crisis, once their sense of security is restored and their basic needs are met. But in Gaza children are in a perpetual crisis because of either war, the threat of war or a blockade that prevents the delivery of essential supplies.

“The challenge that is unique to Gaza is that children never achieve any ongoing sense of safety at all, and their parents cannot provide it because they have no control and they have nowhere else to go,” she says.

Ms Schafer says such prolonged periods of stress cause a massive increase in cortisol levels in the brain, which adversely affects the mental development of children. Research is suggesting that this could be making children more at risk for aggressive behaviours and psychological problems in later life.

She adds that people suffering extreme adverse childhood experiences may have their lives shortened, with a significant risk of death before 50 years of age compared with children who have not experienced such events.

Ms Schafer says it’s critical for children’s mental health for the current hostilities to cease and for the blockade of Gaza to end.

Once this is achieved, it will be important for children to get back to a regular routine as quickly as possible, such as by going to school and participating in after-school activities. Children will also require more support from their parents.

“You are going to have children clinging to mother’s legs; you’re going to have children seeking attention. If they are not provided that attention in a positive way such as during family meals or family games then they are going to start exhibiting negative behaviours,” she says.

Ms Schafer says while aid organisations can provide a range of psychosocial support, the most important thing they can do is support parents to assist their children’s recovery.

“Children will naturally seek support from their parents and so they should. We should not be disempowering parents.”

Ms Schafer, who is based in Australia, has supported work in Gaza for about five years, providing psychosocial support to farmers and their families. The programs have been suspended due to the current fighting. Ms Schafer hopes to return to Gaza in September to continue work in mental health and psychosocial support.

Disability Inclusion in Development

Outside staccato horns blare in constant discord, hungry crows complain in hungry unison, kamikaze tuktuks like angry mosquitos cut through the traffic. Here inside the workshop room, a group of 25 of us are talking about inclusive development. The speaker is hearing impaired, she cannot hear any of the auditory chaos that assaults our ears and makes it difficult to hear her voice.

Our day started with the story of Jesus turning over the tables in the temple and by doing so advocating for access for all people to the place of worship. “Please try to find ways to remove the barriers”, the speaker (a Sri Lankan Methodist pastor) said, “don’t ignore my disabled son” he pleaded, “look for paths to make him feel wanted” he begged. As he spoke an Australian sign interpreter stood beside him translating the words of a Tamil man for a Sinhalese deaf man and an Australian deaf woman. (Different dialogues and languages they tell me - so we go between International, British and American.)

As the Sinhalese man (from Deaf Link) signs his prayer for us he asks that “we will see the importance of the subject”, his signs are obviously full of energy and passion, his face broad with a smile as he prays that the fact he is welcome here and fully included, is a catalyst for change and a sign of hope.

This is an important milestone as we endeavour to make sure that in this new project we are not just doing things for people but that we are doing all we can to ensure that disabled people are full participants and partners. That’s basic development you say, and it is, but even today many organisations (including us) would prefer to deliver services: it’s easier, it’s quicker and it provides good photos and statistics.

Inclusive development is harder, it takes more time, and it requires more creativity. But the catch phrase, nothing about us without us guides our design, our intentions and our hopes.

As the cacophony of chaos continues unabated outside our deaf Sri Lankan colleague is teaching us to say, “hello, I work for World Vision”. Small steps but vital as we seek to transform the lives of some of Sri Lanka’s most vulnerable people in the North.

Link to:
UTube Link to a video produced by Deaf Link Sri Lanka
Deaf Link Sri Lanka's Facebook page.

Day 5: Turning the Tables Over

Can you hear Whitney singing: “I believe that children are our future, teach them well and let them lead the way… Give them a sense of pride…” Isn’t this a reworking of Jesus’ words about children?

Within the Salvo ranks (and the church) we have a passionate, articulate, well educated, internationally aware and globally connected generation of young people who are desperate to be part of something that makes a difference. They understand the realities and theories of climate change and the causes of global greed, power dynamics, politics and poverty. They know what the MDGs and the HDIs are. They want to be involved in changing their world – their future – they want to make a difference.

But we, the leaders, the teachers are not instilling a sense of confidence or hope; we are not giving them a sense of pride. We are instead telling them why we can’t do it. Operating from our fortresses, defending our headquarters and intent on reversing our declining relevance we tell them why they are being unrealistic and unreasonable to expect the church to be more engaged in the lives of people beyond our walls and our borders. (As one leader said to me: “our priority is to take care of our own”. Sounds like a mantra from Prime Minister Abbot’s play book.)

We have not taught them well and we are certainly not letting them lead the way. As a result (too) many of these passionate leaders are finding other organisations where they can get involved, where they can try and fail and be engaged in Jesus’ ministry. And the Salvos, instead of regaining their reputation as global leaders in social justice, are playing it safe, defending their conservative position and, in the process, losing the very people who may well turn us around.

Salvos were born to be militants, we were training change agents, we were thumbing our noses at conservative church, we were challenging the politicians, we were trying and failing but we were transforming lives. And that’s what (I believe) young people want to sign up for. (I have met some of these people but I might be wrong of course!)

If we want to keep young people then we might have to turn some boardroom tables over. We have to give them something to be proud of and to invest their lives in. We have to reclaim the role of global leaders in social justice – there is enough reputation there to do it – but it requires us to be willing to put aside the default position of protection and give young people a real voice. A voice that at times will be chaotic and unpredictable but simultaneously articulate and proud. We need leaders who will teach, mentor and coach through the chaos and at times despite their uncertainty, not leaders who are more worried about defending, at all costs, the increasingly irrelevant status quo and their position in it.

[That’s the last rant of my 5 day challenge. Thank God for that you say.]

Day 4: Turning the Tables Over

I have heard a theory that the reason that so many children are being killed in Gaza is because Muslim parents are intentionally gathering their kids on the roofs of buildings that Israel has identified and targeted. Why would they do that? Apparently, so the theory goes, because they know that their children will go to heaven - the Qur’an says so.

Apart from the sheer arrogance, superiority and stupidity that this rumour portrays, all I can actually think of saying is – are you serious? Do you honestly believe any parent, Muslim, Jew, Christian or whatever would sacrifice their child because of the promise of eternal life? And yes, you’re right down through history it has happened – but equally by many misguided people of faith - including extremist fundamental Christians.

I have eaten and shared life with some of "these Gazan Muslims" whom you label as child killers. My friend Mohammed has so far lost 9 members of his family in this 'surgical war', 4 of them children. And none of them were standing guard over Hamas rockets - all were in their homes hiding while the rockets screamed in. (Let me just state that attacks, by either Israel and Hamas, which risk killing innocent people should not be condoned by anyone.)

I’m a Christian, I believe that my daughter will go to heaven; the Bible tells me so. But that doesn’t mean I would intentionally put her in front of a firing squad to hasten that journey! Really, how stupid is that argument. Just as well there are no tables handy, it would test my agenda to “Do No Harm” because I might throw it at someone!

No More Children dying... 

Day 3. Turning the Tables Over

Last week I was reminded that, in the its early days, The Salvation Army had a proud history of leading the ‘global’ justice agenda. I was told that when the Salvos got mad it was contagious. But then when asked if it was time for Salvos to get mad again the speaker diplomatically avoided the answer and gave a vague (and I felt) excuse for why we ‘couldn’t’.

I think the presenter is wrong. And I think that the reason the original ‘table turner’ got mad was because of injustice, and I can’t see anywhere where his priority for justice and his bias for the poor has changed. Therefore I suggest that it IS time for Salvos to get mad, it is time for the church to get mad. Or are we too bound by financial ties and a desire not to offend. Are we too worried that in getting mad we will upset the power brokers? (Jesus’ wasn’t worried, but maybe the world has changed!)

It is possible to get mad, to get politically active, without being party political – and it is past time we had the courage to start turning tables over again – failing to do so perpetuates the perception that the Church (and Christians) are maybe irrelevant and apathetic, or perhaps insular and self-absorbed, or at worst only willing to show anger through a myopic and vitriolic persecution of other faiths. (I find it’s always easier to point at others instead of examine myself – the apostle John tried it (“what about him”) and Jesus put him back in his box.)

Day 2: Turning the Tables Over

Today I travel to Sri Lanka to do some work on a water, sanitation and hygiene project that we have designed for some of the most vulnerable and disempowered people living in the Northern Province. So, I find myself thinking about asylum seekers, and specifically about those locked away in the hold of an Australian Customs ship by the policies of my government. I am ashamed, I am frustrated, I am sorry.

I am not suggesting this is an easy fix; I don’t want to see people dying at sea in an attempt to reach the only hope they can imagine. So how about, instead of drastically cutting our Aid budget and spending multi-millions on detention centres, we commit the money to “those” people and partner with them at home to improve their livelihoods and develop their infrastructure and services? Maybe then many would not be desperate enough to risk the voyage from home or the separation from family. (I know, I know… there are numerous other factors in the decision to seek asylum, but this is one thing we could and should do.)

Keep trying to Turn the Tables Over in Canberra.

Day 1: Turn Over the Tables

It is good to be thankful, (I think the Bible mentions that) but it seems to me that sometimes even Jesus decided it was time to turn over some tables and be angry. So, how about a 5 day challenge: I'd like to call it the - Turn Over the Tables challenge?

Day 1. I am disappointed by Christians that use the Israeli-Palestinian war (and just about every other fight) as an excuse to demonise Islam and Muslims. It seems to me that there is as much (if not more) documented evidence to support a theory that Christians have been responsible for apartheid, genocide and hatred. This is not just, or perhaps even, a religious issue, this is a human rights issue - on all sides - and the people being hurt are the most vulnerable and the least powerful.

Christians should be advocating (and praying) for peace and reconciliation - not publishing messages that perpetuate hate and discord (I think Jesus mentioned something about that and would have turned those tables over.)

60,000 Children seeking asylum

60,000 unaccompanied children are expected to attempt to cross the U.S. border in 2014. (It was 24,000 in 2012, and next year the number is anticipated to be 130,000)

The exponential growth of unaccompanied children traveling through various countries in Central America to reach the United States is a humanitarian crisis. In addition to these 60,000 children who are exposed to abuse, exploitation, starvation, violations and even death during their journey, the numbers of people seeking asylum in countries in the region has grown by 435% since 2009.

Most of these children come from El Salvador, Guatemala, and Honduras. While poverty in these countries has always been a reason for emigration, in the last few months the number of children fleeing these countries has grown enormously. In addition to having one of the highest rates of violence in the world with death rates even higher than countries with ongoing armed conflicts or war, like the Democratic Republic of Congo and Afghanistan, the recently escalating violence targeting specifically children and youth is considered the main reason for this increase. 58 percent of children interviewed by UNHCR indicated they were forcibly displaced because of armed violence by organised actors, such as drug cartels and gangs, domestic violence, and in the case of Mexico, forced recruitment by human trafficking networks. US President Barack Obama has declared the growing influx of these unaccompanied children as humanitarian crisis for the US.

What can we do?

• Support migrating children – especially in shelters and detention centres
• Work with churches and others to help reintegrate children and their families that have been deported from the USA and Mexico 
• Work with UN organisations and others to create awareness about the risks for the migrating children in their communities and countries 
• Work with governments on improving child protection measures and systems to avoid the further expulsion of children 
• Strengthen our engagement with communities and partners to address the root causes of this exodus, specifically violence and lack of opportunities 
• Work to influence policy and public opinion in the USA to better understand the reasons for this unprecedented growth and provide a more balanced response to the affected children and countries.

Due to the complexity of the situation and the multi-causality of displacement and violence, we need to make working in partnership with other stakeholders, especially UN agencies, national governments, churches and faith based organisations (FBOS), local and international Non-Government Organisations (NGOs), civil society organizations, as well as donors and the private sector.

Somehow we need to get involved to change the options for these kids.

Webs of Interconnectedness

I was sitting in a room of unfamiliar faces, in an unfamiliar country. It was that first day of a conference - that day I dread when, for the first time, we all look around the room pretending not to judge and stereotype as we measure one another. In these moments of uncertainty people sought out the comfortable and the familiar as small groups formed around the room: Swahili speaking Africans, Indians, Filipinos, Francophone Africans, Indonesians, Sri Lankans, Eastern Europeans, Americans and the Aussie – all coming together in language groups, simultaneously forming bonds of friendship and barriers of protection.

But, as the conference got underway, and the theme began to unravel, the single purpose that brought this disparate group together in the middle of nowhere Kenya, began to break the barriers, expand the bonds and create a new web of interconnectedness that seemed unlikely but quickly became the comfortable and the normal.

As much as I find the first moments of an event like this uncomfortable, eventually I love being in a varied group of people like this, hearing new stories, understanding issues through a different worldview and learning once again that it is through this diversity and difference that I learn to be more. And at the end of the time I have made new friends, new connections and together we have begun to fulfil our expectations.

Vinoth Ramachandra writes; “The theological understanding of human personhood is that we image God in relationality. Just as God's being is dynamic relationality, so we are constituted as persons through webs of interconnectedness. We become the occasion for each other’s self-fulfilment. Those who love us make us what we become; we only learn love by being loved.”

People are designed to be in relationship, to explore and become enveloped by webs of dynamic interconnectedness. It is by being loved that I become more than I am and that I learn to love others. But that is often messy and sometimes painful, it takes effort and time, it takes intention and perseverance and it often leaves you vulnerable and open to criticism. But, after fighting with it for a long time, (and watching it modelled by someone I love), – I am nevertheless convinced that it remains the only way to be real, to be human, to be!

Lukenya IPACS

Flying into Nairobi this afternoon reminded me of flying over North Western or Central Victoria (Australia). The landscape is brown, flat and arid. It's not the red dirt of the Centre, but the browns and blues of the desert. It should be wet, the monsoons should have started, but the wet season has not come yet, which the tourists are loving, but the locals are worried, it means hardship for them.

I'm here attending (and helping to facilitate) a course to be accredited to train the art and science of Integrating Peace-building and Conflict Sensitivity into Programming (IPACS). And here is in the bush at the Lukenya Getaway, off the Mombassa-Nairobi Highway, in the middle of nowhere. The drive in found us slowing down and navigating around herds of Zebra and Impala (Zulu for gazelle). In the evenings, they tell me, we will be visited by giraffe and other animals.

But for now, I sit looking out over the wide empty brown, sparse trees dot the horizon, tall with high branches and flat tops. I sit separated from the 'wild' by a fence of brilliant red bougainvillea, listening to the birds and some annoying loud neighbours. In the other direction a dusty, slow parade of trucks carrying goods along the african arterial from Mombassa to Nairobi and beyond to Uganda and Rwanda is constant and apparently unending. It feels like a long way from anywhere here in Lukenya.