Tuesday, 6 July 2010

Testing times

The good news came by phone.

Mr. Lamin's son has done very well in his SSC exams. He has got over 75% and is now enrolled for a course in computer engineering.

Mr. Lamin and his wife were working at labourers in Mumbai. During their time here they became part of a local church. They also found out that they were both HIV positive. Some of the church members encouraged them to meet us. We were able to help Mr. and Mrs. Lamin to make positive steps in their lives. They started medication here and were doing well.

After 2 years, Mr. Lamin decided to go back south to his native village. During the holidays, he had been working to build a small house from the earnings here in Mumbai. Since making a decision for Christ he had stopped drinking and he was able to put the money towards the family's welfare. The family found out that a local government hospital was giving the ART that they were taking here in Mumbai. The hospital here 'transferred' them to their native place.

That was 2 years ago.

Mr. Lamin started driving an auto-rickshaw in his native place to support his family. His children were enrolled in school there and did well. He joined a local church too where he and his family continued to find support.

And now his son is set for moving further. The institute where he wants to study is 2 hours away from home - so his son will probably live in a hostel. A big step into adulthood.

And looking back - such a miracle. There were times when Mr. and Mrs. Lamin despaired of life. When the crushing burden of being HIV positive seemed too much to bear. There were seasons where Mr. and Mrs. Lamin were both so sick.

Yet they have survived. They are moving forward. Their children are taking steps into adulthood. The SSC test - so dreaded by so many - has been a marker of some of the changes that are taking place in Mr. Lamin's family. Its a wonderful milestone showing God's graciousness to a family of four that is blended in with their billion-plus countrymen.

What a blessing to be part of lives that are changing - and making a difference. What an encouragement to hear good news from afar!

Sunday, 4 July 2010

Bandhisthan

In the late nineties I had the opportunity of popping in and out of Calcutta a few times. Once it was to buy Permytherin. This was an insecticide that we at the Nav Jivan Hospital Community Health programme used to dip mosquito nets in - and which was then only available in Calcutta - and that too only sold to walk-in customers.

Well, walk I did one day.

Bandhs are not only found in our country - here are some security forces during a bandh in Nepal

Because I happened to be in the great city when the ruling Marxists called a general strike. A bandh. A shut-down of everything. The ruling Marxists who had been democratically elected decreed that all should shut down. The famed 'Writers Block' (the administrative HQ of West Bengal) was duly padlocked. And their local CPM neighbourhood committees set up chairs in order to man vigilance points on every other block - to make sure no vehicles passed. And no vehicle passed.

I walked. Amazing to go through the streets of the great grey city on foot. A holiday of sorts. The office that I wanted remained partly open so I was able to slip in and out and get the work done. But it took me about 9 kms of walking to do so.

Tomorrow the scene will be repeated in Kolkotta (as that huge metropolis has been rechristened) since the Leftist parties have called for a 'Bandh' to protest the rise in petroleum prices. Strangely, they are being joined by most of the opposition parties, including those of the Hindu right - not only the relatively centrist BJP, but also surprise surprise our local cousins - the Shiv Sena and their estranged offshoot - the Maharashtra Navnirman Sena. This means that Mumbai will be shut tomorrow. With happy friends like these - who show no compulsion to beat up, smash and ransack anyone / shop / vehicle that dares go about 'business as usual' it is unlikely that many will venture out tomorrow.

As an Indian it irks me no end when a 'bandh' is called. Whoever the 'sponsor' of such a call is always uses force to enforce their call. I have yet to see any 'bandh' where everyone shuts shop because they agree with whatever is being demanded. Most of the time it is out of fear - and the fear is real. Any party worth its salt has what are called 'activists.' These are agents of the party who roam around - often on motorcycles - making sure that things are like they want them to be. If they find shops open - or cars moving about, well, then stones and sticks are wielded to make sure that the bandh is obeyed.

It is stupid to even say this, but in this game of bandhs the poor are always the losers. A middle class person can spend the bandh day sitting at home and watching TV - or go out to play cricket on the street after 2 PM. But a poor man who has to work to eat - who needs his daily wages - is not going to get it. Period. And all because some so-called leader wants to be able to parade before TV cameras and announce that the bandh has been 'a great success' 'a spontaneous act of the people' etc.

Some states are worse off than others. Besides the political parties - many states have the Naxalites who are also quick to call a bandh. Two days before Sheba and I were to marry, a bandh was called in Southern Bihar to press for a seperate state of Jharkhand to be carved out. That was the day my parents, brother and I had to drive down to Orissa for my marriage - so we took the hospital jeep and drove. A number of road blocks hindered us - but the jeep's 4 wheel drive was put to good use and aided by our skilled driver Elias we managed to drive around them. At one point a local politician and his men stopped us. I explained that I was off to get married. He asked for proof. I gave him a wedding invitation. We drove on. Needless to say Mr.-Local-Politician didn't show up at the celebration that we had the next day in Rourkela.

In the north-eastern part of our dear land, we do not have the bandh formula of political parties + naxalites. Instead, we have political parties + a huge number of 'undergrounds.' These tribal/insurgent factions are vying for control - Manipur alone is said to have 45 different 'under-ground movements' going on. And when one of them calls a bandh people obey. Bullets have been used to enforce them. Not satisfied with one bandh at a time - when I was there in the mid 1990s we even experienced an 'Eclipse Week' where some of the outfits declared that the whole week will be a bandh.

Do we have anyone speaking up against this? Of course there will be the odd OpEd piece in the paper tomorrow. Thank God for small mercies. One of our friends - Shantanu Dutta has just posted a short commentary too. But the long and short of it is that we have no mechanism to boot out the bandh-wallahs. They have people who will beat normal people up. We do not have protection to go about our life as we should normally be allowed to do.

So along with most of my country-folk, I will grimace and try and get through tomorrow. As an organisation Jeevan Sahara Kendra will remain open. HIV/AIDS doesn't go away on Bandh days - and we will tell anyone who threatens us that we are a 'hospital.' Our family case managers will not use public transport, but rather do their morning visits on foot to nearby homes. In the afternoon we will go ahead with a planned staff training session on health education and behaviour change.

We have the luxury of doing this. We are not facing daily wage issues. For many it will be another hit in the family financial solar plexus. Some will borrow a little more - or take a little more on credit from the local shopkeeper. Others will go hungry. Some will spend what they have in the bar (which I will wager will not shut down for the bandh).

Welcome to Bandhisthan. It seems that we are due to live in this form of our country for some time yet at least. We hope this condition will not remain forever.

Doctor


Asha was asked by one of the girls in her class:

"What kind of a doctor is your mother?"

Asha's response:

"She is a mixed doctor. She has delivered many babies, she treats HIV/AIDS..."

That's pretty much on the button. Thank God for Sheba's training as a Family Medicine specialist through the Dip.N.B.E. (equivalent to an MD). Thank God also for her fellowship in HIV medicine she was able to do through CMC Vellore.

We are so blessed that God has prepared her to treat the whole person - and the whole family - whether they have HIV or not - and especially if they do!

Saturday, 3 July 2010

Monsoon poem


Asha has been chosen for a poetry recitation competition at her school next week. Here is a poem she is learning.

Monsoon
- by David Fischer

Big fat drops of rain tumble
Driving, slanting white streaks of wet
Splattering fiercely – the skies rumble
Winds whoosh. My! was that a jet?

A clean-clothes-wearing, umbrella-clutching daughter
I step out into a world of grey-greenness
Splash! A car shares a spray of muddy water
My once-dry clothes are now a soggy mess

Quick! Back home. I squelch through to the shower
Strip off my clothes, leaving small damp mounds
Clean hot water leaves me fresh as a flower
While the rain pelts my roof with drumming sounds

Holding a hot tea cup with fingers still wrinkly
I eat hot crisp pakhoras and am warm and dry
The rain rages outside - a sturdy wall away from me
My mother gently scolds me – but how safe am I!

But what about that soggy little girl
Whom I saw squatting at a bus-stop, does she have a home?
For me monsoon is fun, but this rain so wild
Only means misery for one so alone.

Big fat drops of rain tumble
Driving, slanting white streaks of wet
Splattering fiercely – the skies rumble
Winds whoosh. My! was that a jet?

Friday, 2 July 2010

Reading


Enoch (7) is reading Out of the Silent Planet.

I remember having a hard time understanding the book when I read it as a preteen. I certainly did not read it when I was 7. I think my first book was only read when I was 8 or so.

Curious to try and see what is going on in Enoch's mind, I asked him what the book is about. In the course of our conversation he in turn asked me a classic question: "Is C.S. Lewis a boy or a girl?"

How much do you have to know about the author to enjoy the book? Considering all that I know about Lewis - I wonder sometimes how much other knowledge creeps in to the essential joy of reading a story.

Spies

As a child of the cold war - with a mother who left the 'workers paradise' of the 'German Democratic Republic' - I have had my taste for all things spy.

Not for me the pure pulp of Ludlum or Fleming - I was more drawn to the greys that you find in John LeCarre and of course the master himself - his one-time-spyness Graham Greene. Layer over this what I read in Intrepid - the book about William Stephenson and the Allied intelligence network. It took my breath away to read about how the Allied intelligence took on the Nazi espionage apparatus. More so because the book recounted both the technical brilliance of breaking the enigma code - as well as told heart-breaking stories of allied spies being parachuted into Vichy France - often with an almost sure death sentence awaiting them.

Growing up in Bombay we were members of a posh swimming pool where many diplomats and their families came. We knew roughly who was who - based on the vehicles that they came in. The Eastern Europeans stayed mostly to themselves. I must admit I was especially interested in East Germans who had their own school - and always moved around in groups. Many (most) of these Eastern Europeans (the parents at least) will have had some links with the intelligence agencies of their countries. A person growing up in East Germany for instance - was almost always on some level of surveillance by the Ministerium für Staatssicherheit - East Germany's internal intelligence agency best known by its German nickname the Stasi.

With the fall of the Berlin wall - and the general unravelling of the Leninism around the world - one would think that the old cold war hacks would be out of business.

Did my ears ever prick up when news filtered out that 10 'sleepers' had been found in the US - living lives as ordinary Americans - replete with names like 'Vicky Palaez' and 'Richard Murphy' - and one of them even attending the JFK School of Governance at Harvard. The joy of it all - real life spies! High tech gadgets! Code names and keys! Steganography!

But after the first blush of news, the further details seem distinctly underwhelming - an unravelling of the sheer mundanity of their lives. Most of what they did was just totally drab. Getting a job. Moving ahead while keeping their cover. Raising a family. Keeping up with old course-mates. Trying to meet 'important people.' The amount of information that the 'spies' were able to pass on to their handlers seems to have been so meagre that the US authorities are not even able to accuse them of being spies despite tracking them for years now. They are apparently being charged for 'not registering as agents of a foreign government.'

And it gets even more absurd (if the reports are true of course). The dears apparently caused their handlers not a little irritation. One couple was fixed on buying a house. So as to blend in better of course. Their handlers were not amused. It seems they were wondering if their spies were putting down their roots for good.

Now lets step back just a little bit from what seems to be more of a farce than the stuff of a thriller - or even a good tragedy.

How does my life stack up against these Russian agents?

They had a purpose for which they were sent. They seem to have muddled through it. They are now 'caught' and the evidence of what they have done is being weighed in against them.

Given the very sad condition of so much of the world around me - and taking a long hard look at my life - where would I stand if the content of my life were put to public scrutiny? What real changes have I been able to see take place in me - and in people around me? What is the legacy that I leave my children - and the different people that I have met across the 41 and running years that God has graciously given me so far?

The Bible paints a picture of a final reckoning. A day when we all will stand before our Maker and give accounts of their lives. I have many things that I am ashamed about, many sad twisted secrets that I would never want others to hear or see. But I also have the confidence that my Redeemer lives. Coming to Him with my brokenness and the massive short-fall in my life of that which is good - I know that He embraced me and took away the sting of all that was wrong in me - because He took the punishment on Himself on that hideous cross almost 2 millennia ago. And what is more - He rose to give life - real life - forever.

I am also grateful that a decade ago the Lord brought Sheba into my life - to help and spur me on to things that are good and right. We still have many jagged edges - and there are still things that are not what they should be. Looking back on the past decade with Sheba, however, I am so grateful for the real changes that I do see - as well as for a growing hunger in me to be more like my Lord Jesus Christ. As for the fruitfulness of my life? Despite being more of the bumbler than the victor - I can say with confidence that God has done far more than I could have imagined a decade or two ago.

This is what I read this morning:
Sow for yourselves righteousness,

reap the fruit of unfailing love,
and break up your unplowed ground;
for it is time to seek the LORD,
until he comes
and showers righteousness on you. Hosea 10.12

Its my prayer for today. For myself. And for you gentle reader. Amen.

Thursday, 1 July 2010

Telling

She stood in the room and told her story. Her voice was barely a whisper. Others encouraged her to speak.

She was small and dark. Thin. Above her right eye was a big swelling.

She spoke about how she had been sick for so long. And how she had been so sad but had been helped by ladies from a church fellowship that she went to prayers for. She talked about starting on medications for HIV and that she had become so much better. She told us that she had started working again.

Our friend was sharing her story with a group of people who knew what she was talking about. Most of those in the room were HIV positive themselves.

She carried on talking. Last week she felt sick again. A fever. A crushing headache. She was so scared that this would mean her losing her job. She didn't want to stop working.

She prayed. Called on the name of Jesus. And went to sleep.

When she woke up she was so much better.

Her voice remained barely audible as she told her story. But her eyes flashed through moist eyes.

She walked back to her seat enfolded by the applause of everyone in the room.

Another friend with HIV - sharing slices of who they are - at the monthly Positive Friends support group meeting.