Insignificant Casualties - (Very General Ranting)

On Monday night (Indonesian local time) another tsunami, caused by a 7.7 magnitude quake, devastated the coastal villages of Sumatra, in Indonesia. At this stage at least 113 people are dead, over 500 missing and according to local government sources 10 villages have been destroyed - which means that in the days to come the death toll will rise, and the cost to the local communities will only begin to be realised as the emergency subsides.

Here in Australia though, you could be forgiven for wondering if there were any casualties at all! Having read the local (Melbourne) papers and listened to the local news reports, it appears, as one reporter said, "there were no significant casualties". Apparently what is meant by 'significant' is that there were no Australians killed or injured. The search for 9 Australians missing after the tsunami has finished with the Herald Sun newspaper claiming a "Great Escpae". (Don't get me wrong, I am glad they are okay!)

Do the editorial staff of our largest newspapers really believe that their readers consider all other nationalities, (in this case Indonesian Muslims) as insignificant? Are their editorial decisions based on any genuine data? If so then we are a sorry people.

It would appear (acording to our news reports) that for the cost of a humanitarian disaster to matter to Australians an Australian needs to be affected - or unfortunately killed!

Offices of Shame

I would consider myself a fairly averagely educated Aussie bloke able to understand most concepts and navigate my way through most of life’s application forms. But, when it comes to Centrelink (an Australian Government Assistance Office) forms and dealings, I am filled with dread.

Recently, Centrelink made a mistake! And when I rang to discuss this, the officer admitted it was their mistake, "but", he said, "we cannot override the computer, you will need to start the whole process of justifying yourself again, Sir."

I couple of days later I received a 27 page application in the mail. These forms are hard work, they are ambiguously worded, they are repetitive, they are (necessarily) personal, they are confusing; they are exhausting and frightening, because if you make a mistake you can be prosecuted! And that's how a "fairly averagely educated Anglo Aussie" feels. I can only imagine how a new Australian, a person desperately trying to fit in and be 'normal' would feel.

And then it got worse. Instructed to appear at my nearest Centrelink office I walked into a large building were the first person I saw was a security guard. There were long lines of people with their eyes down to the floor and heads bowed. Most people didn't look at each other, they either stood in line, waiting to approach the high counter were an officer waited, or sat and waited in impersonal waiting areas staring at a large plasma screen.

There was a tangible heaviness in the air; it felt like any life and joy had been sucked out, (reminiscent of a scene with Dementors from Harry Potter). There was nothing about the place, or the people working, that made this office anything but a place where I felt like I was on trial. People were ashamed to be here – and nothing or no one attempted to mitigate that reality.

I felt desperately ashamed of what we make people go through to receive assistance – I felt like I was being challenged to beat the system if I could and if I dared.

Let me add quickly that I am not criticizing all the staff – when I did see an officer she was lovely, helpful and, miraculously – she agreed that it was their mistake and the computer could be overridden!

There has to be a better way Centrelink – just making the waiting areas a little less sterile and unfriendly would help. But maybe in the meantime we need to get some people to conduct stealth missions. Maybe we could get some people to infiltrate Centrelink waiting rooms and see if they can inject some hope and, whatever the opposite of shame is, into these offices of shame.

COMING HOME

I walked home from work today!

It was a nice day, the sun was shining through breaks in a cloudy sky and the air was cool. As I meandered from the office I passed beautifully landscaped gardens, green, colourful and heavily scented with spring flowers. I crossed even, flat, un-cratered roads at traffic lights where vehicles where orderly and drivers, for the most part, patient. I walked along sidewalks that were clean and uncluttered - void of street food and markets.

As I walked the three kilometres home, past houses that were intact, clean and obviously well maintained: I was struck by the contrasts to my life of the past 8 weeks. I was walking alone, no military, no Haitian escort and guide; I was outside a compound, a safe zone - and I was alone! The piles of debris and mountains of garbage were strangely absent. The smells of street stalls and clogged gutters were replaced by roses and fresh cut grass. The helicopter that passed overhead was not a huge throbbing military bird sweeping low overhead - it was just the police!

"How do you reconcile your two worlds?" I was asked today. This is home: this comparably sterile, privileged community of order and security. This place where I am free to be who I want when I want. This place where food is plentiful and security is assured. There is no comparison, it is not appropriate to compare the two contexts. I just have to take a deep breath and intentionally recognise that this is my home reality - Haiti was for a time: an amazingly influential time - but it is not my life.

I believe that 'now that I have seen I am responsible' to continue to do all I can to influence others (individuals and organisations) to consider the reality of life in Haiti (Pakistan, Chile, etc) and to encourage and show them how to become partners in 'majority world' development and renewal.

I will not, and cannot forget! I live a life of multiple personalities, but now I must be home, I must be engaged with my family, and in my ministry here.

[So now I sign out for a few weeks - I'm going away on holidays with my family and will not be blogging. This post will mark the end of my Haiti reflections.]

TIRED & JUDGMENTAL?

As I sat waiting for my flight in Miami I watched fascinated as the world walked past. There is no other place like an airport to capture an image of the diversity and the idiosyncrasies of humanity. Here, in a (relatively) small place many of the different languages and cultures come together and interact together: we coexist together and whilst there might be much that we do not understand about each other - we are here - together.

So it was like nails on a blackboard when my brain realised what it had just heard on the television. It was an advertisement for a CNN special. A fairly famous CNN reporter (he had been in Haiti too) was now in Pakistan. Images of the reporter in a boat chugging down a swollen river with familiar images of devastation and frightened, wet and hungry people filled the screen as the narrator told us that coming soon was this man’s special report on the worst disaster the world has ever known and “its impact on the United States, and what it might mean for American interests”.

Now, I don’t want in any way to assume that this last phrase represents the reporter’s agenda, but I couldn’t help but be instantly furious. Maybe after just coming out of Haiti I am a little too sensitive: but seriously, is that what the important issue is – how a natural disaster and the suffering of over 20,000,000 people might impact the United States?

Are we humans really that selfish that in moments of crisis we are worried about how it might impact on me? My experience tells me that we aren’t! That whilst we do forget quickly, at the moment of crisis – even when we cannot possibly understand what it actually feels like - we look for ways to draw together, to unite and to share.

But it seems there will always be people, media, governments and religious fanatics (of all persuasions) that will try to capatalise even on tragedy to engender fear and to perpetuate difference all to further their own narrow agenda? (But maybe I am just a little hypersensitive and therefore too judgmental at the moment!)

LESSONS FROM HAITI

Today marks the end of another deployment for me. To those that have followed my journey and sent messages of encouragement, thank you.

As I look back on eight weeks in Haiti I am once again humbled by the people that I have met; the lives that I have become part of and the experiences that have forced me to consider my accidental privilege. As I reflect on my deployment the lessons learnt include:

• HOPE: Despite the abundance of physical evidence that surrounds the people they find a reason to hope and believe that better days are ahead. Despite years of neglect and bad representation they hope that the coming elections will change things. Despite a horrific natural disaster, the latest “worst the world has ever seen”, they hope that their Creator, the God they worship vigorously and enthusiastically will again renew and refresh their country.
• WELCOME: Despite having little and having no opportunity to obtain much they make complete strangers like me welcome. “Welcome Home” they said to me, time and again.
• ACCEPTANCE: Not only do they welcome strangers, but they accept them and invite them into their lives and to become family.
• TRUST & RESPECT: Sustainable and indigenous development facilitation is (almost) impossible without these characteristics. If you really want to transform lives you need to be informed by the ‘experts’ - that is the indigenous people, and you need to be willing to not only be sensitive to, but respectful of the customs and idiosyncrasies of the culture, even if you don’t understand. Only in being willing to be a student do you earn the trust and respect of the people, and only in doing that do you earn the right to be a partner in their transformation.
• DISAPPOINTMENT: You can put in place all the safeguards you like, (personally and organisationally) but most probably there will be at least one moment when you are disappointed by the character of humanity. It is that moment that marks your character – does it destroy you and turn you into a cynic, or does it drive you to deal with the disappointment and move on for others?
• KNOW YOURSELF: You need to know when to stop and take time for yourself. Failure to be ‘selfish’ causes you to run the risk that you go home early, or that you become useless to the people that need you at this moment.

There are other lessons; many (but I’m too tired to think of them all at the moment). So as I wait in the airport lounge at Miami International it is with a sense of release that I know I am on my way home. I know that there is so much more that needs to be done in Haiti, but I have done my best, I have worked my smartest and I know that I have made a difference. My Haiti ‘venture is over and soon I get to see my family again.

So, goodbye from me to Haiti: but whilst you may stop reading about Haiti here, can I encourage you to keep informed about this destitute country, and when you can make a difference.

TRUST AND SECRETS ARE ENEMIES

We all keep secrets, most are meant to be harmless, like Christmas presents or nuts and cherries. But in my experience it is very hard to trust a person, (or an organisation), that keeps secrets. Some organisations have made it into an art form; they demand loyalty and obedience but withhold vital information, secrets, ‘for my own good’.

I have written before about the principle of PQT, or Prior Question of Trust, but I do so again because I believe it to be perhaps the single most important ingredient in any relationship – and in my current context – in a relationship with local leaders and an organisation for the purpose of transforming communities and empowering individuals. A lack of trust can be devastatingly destructive, whilst the nurturing of it can be exponentially transformational.

I have observed both aspects of this trust relationship in Haiti. Too many NGOs come to this disaster already convinced that the people cannot and will not help themselves. So in the interest of expediency, and with the excuse of emergency, they import and implement programs without due regard for the need and the long term results. Sometimes this results in a stubborn allegiance to a log framed agenda for the purpose of satisfying and maintaining a donor relationship – rather than admitting the needs have changed and the project is not of benefit to the beneficiary.

One of our partners has succumbed to this donor driven temptation. The money is big, the reputation to be made is important; the relationship to be maintained could be of long lasting benefit (in another disaster). But does that make it right to perpetuate a project that is not ‘building back better’? A project that was needed 7 months ago but is still only just beginning, and will now give the impression that this Soccer Field IDP Camp, this potential slum ghetto, is a permanent housing solution. The secret, ‘a silent insidious agenda’ has been uncovered by the leaders of the community, and now, where there was once trust and respect, there is dangerous anger, unwillingness to cooperate and this impacts on us all.

Into this cauldron of disappointment and distrust walks a short, wiry, Haitian man. A man that has had his own dance of disappointment and disempowerment with well meaning donors. It took almost six of my weeks for this man to trust, but then he started walking alongside me. He started talking with and for me. This relationship of trust with an alongsider began to transform what was a mechanical relationship, a meeting of others into a communion of brothers.

Today when we met with a group that days before had threatened our partners, we sat together, expats and local leader, and he spoke in the heart language of his people and even though the message delivered was not all good news, the people listened, they trusted and respected this insider, this trustworthy man, and they thanked him for his honesty and for ‘no more secrets’.

WHEN ALL WE HAVE IS NOT ENOUGH

The distributions are complete: in the last two weeks we have given over 7,000 cots to about 3,600 families. Today as the last cot was thrown off the truck there was a combined sigh of relief from one or two of us, and a moan of disappointment as about 150 families realised they were missing out. It wasn't ideal - but it was reality.

As we got to the last row in the truck I called the UN Commander over and explained the situation, we looked together at the numbers, and realised that we had the potential for a riot. There were all kinds of suggestions from well meaning people, but the reality was we didn't have enough. But we would of had enough if:

• the 120 people that got through the system and got two lots had not been selfish
• a number of cots had not been stolen from the warehouse and sold for personal gain
• some of our payed employees had not taken cots during the four days

It continues to disappointment me that selfishness is the default of humanity. There are many that fight this urge daily and moment by moment, there are many that are generous and selfgiving - I know many. But in this context when people are fighting for survival there are two sides: I can understand people scrambling to get all they can, but then I find myself annoyed because in doing so they deprive someone weaker, or less fortunate.

As the cots decreased people began to get more and more vocal, the UN soldiers got closer and closer and the atmosphere became electric with the tension and the disappointment. I took cots off people that were not supposed to have them only to receive a look of complete surprise: one member of our staff asked why she couldn't have two: I wanted to say because I have seen you take cots before today. But instead I explained that we paid her to help us, enough for her to buy cots, we didn't pay these others. Her response: you don't pay me enough, give me more!

There are some that will never be satisfied - but in my experience these selfish people are the minority. The overwhelming majority thanked us, shook our hands and smiled - even one or two that got nothing today.

YOU OK, YOU WORK LIKE ME

It's been a long day. It started at 4:45am (as most of my mornings have in Haiti) thanks to the rising warmth, the rooster, the donkey and the cow in the yard behind. But it has been a good day.

Some days you have to make an effort to find the silver lining don't you? It's easier to allow the tough things of living and working to dominate our efforts and impact our moods. It's tougher to make the decision to rise above them and to maybe even use them as the extra fuel you need to transform your attitude and your influence on others.

Today was one of those days for me. I woke knowing it was going to hold some tough spots, and I was tempted to allow myself to be carried through the day by that mood - to operate on auto-pilot and just survive. But, whilst the tough stuff still loomed before me, the people that came across my path today made it impossible for me not to celebrate living and life.

The highlight of my day was a moment when with a few others I was unpacking 1,600 cots and loading them onto trucks for tomorrows distribution. The guys I was working with knew that at the end of the day they were without work. No wonder the afternoon started tense - the boss is here, why - oh no! But after 4 hours of working and sweating together I had stacked as many as most and to their surprise I was still going. It was at that moment that one of them went and got a water bottle and offered me a drink - and said to me - you ok, you work like me!

I had earned their respect! I was for a few hours one of them. And that was a nice place to be.

SHINY SHOES

About 5 years ago my daughter Alexis came into my office at Mont Albert (Melbourne) to tell me that in the little second hand shop up the road there was a pair of new looking Doc Martin boots for sale - for $10.00. (Alexis has an eye for shoes: 43 Reasons Why I Need to Make Some Changes...)

I had been after a pair of these boots for a while – and now they have been my preferred option on every deployment. They are comfortable, I can walk in them for hours, and they are tough, and yet stylish!

But after a few distributions, walking through the dirt and garbage of Delmas 2, they were looking a little worse for wear this morning when my driver, who always has shiny shoes, told me it was time I had my shoes cleaned. So across the road we went to a man that I have seen sitting in the same spot every day I have been to town. He sits on a small wooden stool, with his shoe shine box in front of him and he never says a word. But every one that comes to this building knows him, and they all have shiny shoes.

From under his Dodgers baseball cap his dark eyes looked at my boots, and then glared at me! I’m sure I didn’t imagine the look of disgust – and so the process began. Again no words were shared; with a knock of his brush on the box my right foot came to rest on his box, a brush took away the grime, a cloth took away the dust, a second brush applied liquid polish, a second cloth dried the polish before black nugget was applied by hand and then with another knock the process was repeated on my left boot. The next knock told me it was time to change feet and a third brush shined the boots before a prized piece of felt came out of his shirt pocket to make the boots gleam. After the process was complete and with boots shinier than I have ever seen them he sat back and smiled a gap-toothed smile.

My shoe shine man sits at his post for about 8 hours a day, and in that time he will shine about 50 pairs of shoes, and will make about Gds 300.00 (that is about USD 7.50). He didn’t say much to me, he just made my boots shine, he smiled at me and as I handed him my Gds 20.00 (about $0.50) he said, “Merci, Monsieur”. In that moment I remembered why I was here.

I know it doesn’t make much sense, but it reminded me of a Celtic blessing I have spoken so often which finishes with the words:

May Christ who loves with a wounded heart open your heart to love.
May you see the face of Christ in everyone you meet,
And may everyone you meet see the face of Christ in you.

GUTTED BY SELFISHNESS

I know it happens, but not to us!

Today started well. We arrived at Place de la Paix to find the UN had sorted the people: the site was under control. The people too were, almost patiently, waiting. The worst part about the morning was that the weekend's garbage had not been removed and, with the dead dog in rigor mortis, the site should have been classified as a biological weapon. (It took all my will power to keep my vegemite toast in the right place!)

After a fairly uneventful distribution to about 700 families and before the sun climbed too high in the sky (although it was 38C when we left at 10:00am) we climbed back into our vehicle, into the soothing gale of sterile air-conditioned air and we headed away, quite pleased with our efforts.

That's when the sinking feeling in my stomach commenced. Rumours of theft and profit at not just The Salvation Army's expense, but at the cost of the beneficiaries began to surface. I can't prove a thing, other than that the stock is gone, but the people I trusted, the people I pay to be on our side have apparently let me down. But not just let me down; they have stolen from their own people, for their own profit.

It has left us in an awkward position with promises made. But mostly it has gutted us. You start analysing every little thing; wondering if there is more below the surface. You start wondering if there is anything you could have done better or different to avoid this happening. And of course now I have to decide what I do about my people - I know what I feel like doing! (And I have a few suggestions from US Military personnel that secure our sight.)

BALANCING ACT

It's not easy to make a living in Haiti.

Like all countries there are those that are doing very well: they live in the expensive areas, in the palatial houses with the manicured lawns and drive the expensive cars. Then at the other end of a very long spectrum, or perhaps in a completely different Haiti, there is the man that sleeps during the day on a mound of sand alongside the main road, or the woman that hides under a broken down bus chassis, avoiding the sun, or maybe avoiding other people. And then of course there's the kids... wandering the streets looking for food and water; playing with whatever and allowing their imaginations to fashion it into the toys they know exist, but will never afford.

And amongst the chaos of the roads, in between the UN vehicles, the rich people's shiny rides, the colourful taptaps emblazoned with "Merci Jesus" and other religious clichés, you'll find all kinds of sales people.

Running through the cars vying for business, balancing 'insulated' rice bags or boxes with a slab of ice to keep the bags of water or sodas cold boys and men compete against each other to sell and make between 1 and 5 Gourdes (4 - 12 cents) per sale. Women, equally if not more acrobatic, balance boxes of soap and beauty products. Others sell deep fried banana chips and bottles of washing liquid.

But slow down at an intersection or stop and before you know it a little boy who can't even see in your window or an older man will descend and start dusting your vehicle for you. Some intricate hand gestures are exchanged and a deal is struck, or he goes away looking for someone willing to pay to have a shiny car - for a few minutes.

As this intricate balance of vehicle, sales agent and unbelievably ineffective traffic cop plays out on the roads you pass innumerable street stalls selling bbq chicken, fried bananas, DVDs, TV aerials, books, clothes, shoes and so much more. It seems that everyone is selling the same thing, and yet day after day the same people will set up the same stall.

When you're desperate you will try anything in the attempt to make some money to eat and to live. Haiti is not alone of course in the sense that there are millions of people in many countries doing the same thing - whatever it takes to survive and to give your kids every chance to thrive.

There are no easy answers, there is no quick fix, but from those of us that have so much - we need to keep trying - please don't throw your hands in the air and argue that there is too much need, that there is no way you can make a difference. You can! You can choose one project, like sponsoring a child, or one appeal, and you can give until you can't give anymore.

We, our generations, have the assets to change the world for the better - all we need now is the inclination. 

MEDICAL SUCCESS

I had the privilege today of travelling west to visit a Salvation Army Clinic that has been started in the last month. My job was to make sure the key activities were being met and the budget wasn't being blown. But when you actually hear the stories and see the faces of people waiting for the clinic - it makes you forget the project mechanics (almost).

In the last 4 weeks the clinic has seen an average of 20 people a day, and has treated and diagnosed presentations from sore ears to a heart attack which happened in the compound while the person was waiting to be seen for a sore throat.

Located in the Army's compound at Petit Goave, the clinic operates out of two classrooms from the school (holidays at the moment). Outside one classroom a nice young man takes blood pressures and triages patients; in the room behind a doctor sits behind a bare table and attends to his patients and if necessary sends them next door to the nurse who fills scripts from a pile of medications on a desk behind her.

It may be nothing flash to look at, but this clinic has made a difference to the community. People that couldn't access the normal clinic because of distance or cost now attend here and pay about $ 0.75 for an adult consultation and $0.25 for a child.

This community is one of those devastated by the January 11 earthquake. Evidence of the quake: collapsed buildings, piles of rubble, fields of tents and temporary shelters bear evidence to the impact on this ocean side city. But of course it is many of the people that still bear both the physical and emotional scars. Almost eight months on and tremors (albeit very small) are still felt regularly in these areas, and these people, hyper sensitive to the movement are still afraid.

The money that you gave to earthquake appeals has gone toward things like this project. It is a relatively small project which will run at about USD 20,000.00 for six months. In month five an assessment will be done to see if its continuation is viable and the funding is available.

It's basic and it's low cost, but it's literally life changing.