I was bone tired last night. Crushingly, numbingly so. Somewhere in the haze of going to sleep I remember phone calls going off. Sheba talking. Myself asleep. Then waking up to hear Sheba tell me that Mr. and Mrs. Washim's house was wrecked.
We knew it may be coming. Mr. and Mrs. Washim had called up earlier in the day to say that the police were patrolling - criss-crossing the area in their vehicles while talking with each other on walkie-talkies.
The area we are talking about?
A stretch of land next to one of the main water-pipelines that supply the thirsty city of Mumbai. A no-man's land. A strip of land on the current margins - where people have built shacks.
Mr. and Mrs. Washim earn their living by Mr. Washim's auto-rickshaw driving. They do not want to live there. But they have to rent somewhere. And the prices are just too high in other places. So they paid their deposit and moved to this shack last year.
Last evening the hut was destroyed. The mechanised shovels went in and smashed it to bits.
Mr. and Mrs. Washim spent the night outside with their belongings. Their three children were sent to stay with a relative. Mrs. Washim called Sheba at 11 PM.
Being HIV positive is not the only challenge that Mr. and Mrs. Washim face. Having an HIV positive daughter among their 3 kids is not the only sorrow in their heart.
They are homeless. Last night they slept under the grey sky, next to the mosquito infested swamp where their shack stood. This morning they will try to find a new place. Their 'deposit' is only due back at the end of the month.
Thursday, 7 October 2010
Tuesday, 5 October 2010
The Lords of Poverty
A friend of mine who has even less hair than I do - and who drives a insanely expensive bicycle around the National Capital Area countryside - often relays posts from a wickedly funny man - Dr. Alden Kurtz.
Dr. Kurtz runs the global development organisation Hand Relief International. They describe themselves on their site as: "a cutting-edge humanitarian organization fully committed to saving lives everywhere the donor penny is available"
If you haven't twigged on by now that this guy is as fake as they come... then you may have a great future in the 'development industry.'
"Kurtz" - whoevever he/she is clearly knows his stuff. Even the name has undertones - think the original 'Kurtz' from Joseph Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness" and of course the 'Kurtz' in Apocalpse Now.
But what sets him/her apart is the blatant cynicism wrapped up in sugar-coated development-jargon-smothered 'insights.' The barbed comments are so shockingly close to the whole wooly web of words that the "humanitarian industry" cloaks itself with - that you have keep pinching yourself to remember that the person is spinning fiction. He/she has clearly been / or is at the hub of one or more of the big players in the global development circus - and so knows his/her stuff. The fiction is probably more likely at least 'faction' - if not 'fact' gift-wrapped in dripping sarcasm.
The good Dr. even shows up on other people's websites and makes comments - like this one - while staying in character.
Thankfully this inspired person is not alone. We have the joy of the marvellously faux site for a group calling itself the International Network for Enabling Poverty Development - which yields a delcious acronym: INEPD. Do click on to their site - it is top notch for concocting a potent mix of the real and the surreal - just like so many who are out there asking for funds for their work.
All of this has been said before.
By Graham Hancock in his searing book The Lords of Poverty. Besides being an insiders tattle-tale book about just how bizarre the international aid community can be (told with a little too much spleen at times if I can remember rightly), our friend Hancock chooses to preface it with this poem:
The development set
Excuse me, friends, I must catch my jet
I'm off to join the Development Set;
My bags are packed, and I've had all my shots
I have traveller's checks and pills for the trots!
The Development Set is bright and noble
Our thoughts are deep and our vision global;
Although we move with the better classes
Our thoughts are always with the masses.
In Sheraton Hotels in scattered nations
We damn multi-national corporations;
injustice seems easy to protest
In such seething hotbeds of social rest.
We discuss malnutrition over steaks
And plan hunger talks during coffee breaks.
Whether Asian floods or African drought,
We face each issue with open mouth.
We bring in consultants whose circumlocution
Raises difficulties for every solution --
Thus guaranteeing continued good eating
By showing the need for another meeting.
The language of the Development Set
Stretches the English alphabet;
We use swell words like "epigenetic"
"Micro", "macro", and "logarithmetic"
It pleasures us to be esoteric --
It's so intellectually atmospheric!
And although establishments may be unmoved,
Our vocabularies are much improved.
When the talk gets deep and you're feeling numb,
You can keep your shame to a minimum:
To show that you, too, are intelligent
Smugly ask, "Is it really development?"
Or say, "That's fine in practice, but don't you see:
It doesn't work out in theory!"
A few may find this incomprehensible,
But most will admire you as deep and sensible.
Development set homes are extremely chic,
Full of carvings, curios, and draped with batik.
Eye-level photographs subtly assure
That your host is at home with the great and the poor.
Enough of these verses - on with the mission!
Our task is as broad as the human condition!
Just pray god the biblical promise is true:
The poor ye shall always have with you.
- Ross Coggins
Now a little bit about my own small journey into the 'charitable sector.'
I remember showing up for my first classes in International Health at my MPH programme at teh Yale School of Public Health. The professor was a very senior and seemingly avuncular fellow who had more consultancies under his belt with WHO and other such high-level agencies that you could swing a cat at.
The class was deeply disappointing to me.
I cannot remember hearing a single positive statement about development. About change. Not one. All I heard was negative running-down of what seemed to be any possible public health interventions. I almost packed up and went home after that particular class. The question that was forming in me was "why are you telling us this - if this has been your bread and butter all these years?"
Once I was done with that class, I learned to avoid that particular prof like the plague. And I sub-consciously stepped away from anything that dealt with macro-level policy-kind of interventions.
I was saved by the genial and truly kind figure of Dr. Jekel. Yes - that is his real name. It sounds a lot like 'Dr. Jekyl' - but is Dr. James F. Jekel to be precise. And what a blessing he was. A warm and honest man - Dr. Jekel loved people and was involved in setting up and monitoring programmes in various places around the world - and seeing real results take place - besides conducting reams of studies of issues like teen pregnancies in the 3 decades of professional work at Yale and writing a widely used text on Epidemiology.
The other thing that has kept me going has been to see the fruits of people who have invested themselves in others. Many of them have done so because of their faith in Christ - and desire to serve Him by serving others. They have often been considered unfashionable at best, with further opinions starting at 'narrow-minded' and proceeding downwards. But what these usually unsung heroes (and heroines) have showed me is that it is possible to take a cold hard look at the brokenness and deception of humanity - and still do good work. That there is real hope available - though many times the hoped for results do not show up as quickly (and certainly not as easily) as we hope. Some of these heroes are doing things that only eternity will be able to recount.
Despite the crass misuse of development by so many - we still believe that change is possible. And that's part of the reason why we do what we do at Jeevan Sahara. Many times we hardly see anything 'dramatic' - but we know that we are in this for the long haul. Just like God in His mercy continues to do his work of transformation in our own lives.
Dr. Kurtz runs the global development organisation Hand Relief International. They describe themselves on their site as: "a cutting-edge humanitarian organization fully committed to saving lives everywhere the donor penny is available"
If you haven't twigged on by now that this guy is as fake as they come... then you may have a great future in the 'development industry.'
"Kurtz" - whoevever he/she is clearly knows his stuff. Even the name has undertones - think the original 'Kurtz' from Joseph Conrad's "The Heart of Darkness" and of course the 'Kurtz' in Apocalpse Now.
But what sets him/her apart is the blatant cynicism wrapped up in sugar-coated development-jargon-smothered 'insights.' The barbed comments are so shockingly close to the whole wooly web of words that the "humanitarian industry" cloaks itself with - that you have keep pinching yourself to remember that the person is spinning fiction. He/she has clearly been / or is at the hub of one or more of the big players in the global development circus - and so knows his/her stuff. The fiction is probably more likely at least 'faction' - if not 'fact' gift-wrapped in dripping sarcasm.
The good Dr. even shows up on other people's websites and makes comments - like this one - while staying in character.
Thankfully this inspired person is not alone. We have the joy of the marvellously faux site for a group calling itself the International Network for Enabling Poverty Development - which yields a delcious acronym: INEPD. Do click on to their site - it is top notch for concocting a potent mix of the real and the surreal - just like so many who are out there asking for funds for their work.
All of this has been said before.
By Graham Hancock in his searing book The Lords of Poverty. Besides being an insiders tattle-tale book about just how bizarre the international aid community can be (told with a little too much spleen at times if I can remember rightly), our friend Hancock chooses to preface it with this poem:The development set
Excuse me, friends, I must catch my jet
I'm off to join the Development Set;
My bags are packed, and I've had all my shots
I have traveller's checks and pills for the trots!
The Development Set is bright and noble
Our thoughts are deep and our vision global;
Although we move with the better classes
Our thoughts are always with the masses.
In Sheraton Hotels in scattered nations
We damn multi-national corporations;
injustice seems easy to protest
In such seething hotbeds of social rest.
We discuss malnutrition over steaks
And plan hunger talks during coffee breaks.
Whether Asian floods or African drought,
We face each issue with open mouth.
We bring in consultants whose circumlocution
Raises difficulties for every solution --
Thus guaranteeing continued good eating
By showing the need for another meeting.
The language of the Development Set
Stretches the English alphabet;
We use swell words like "epigenetic"
"Micro", "macro", and "logarithmetic"
It pleasures us to be esoteric --
It's so intellectually atmospheric!
And although establishments may be unmoved,
Our vocabularies are much improved.
When the talk gets deep and you're feeling numb,
You can keep your shame to a minimum:
To show that you, too, are intelligent
Smugly ask, "Is it really development?"
Or say, "That's fine in practice, but don't you see:
It doesn't work out in theory!"
A few may find this incomprehensible,
But most will admire you as deep and sensible.
Development set homes are extremely chic,
Full of carvings, curios, and draped with batik.
Eye-level photographs subtly assure
That your host is at home with the great and the poor.
Enough of these verses - on with the mission!
Our task is as broad as the human condition!
Just pray god the biblical promise is true:
The poor ye shall always have with you.
- Ross Coggins
Now a little bit about my own small journey into the 'charitable sector.'
I remember showing up for my first classes in International Health at my MPH programme at teh Yale School of Public Health. The professor was a very senior and seemingly avuncular fellow who had more consultancies under his belt with WHO and other such high-level agencies that you could swing a cat at.
The class was deeply disappointing to me.
I cannot remember hearing a single positive statement about development. About change. Not one. All I heard was negative running-down of what seemed to be any possible public health interventions. I almost packed up and went home after that particular class. The question that was forming in me was "why are you telling us this - if this has been your bread and butter all these years?"
Once I was done with that class, I learned to avoid that particular prof like the plague. And I sub-consciously stepped away from anything that dealt with macro-level policy-kind of interventions.
I was saved by the genial and truly kind figure of Dr. Jekel. Yes - that is his real name. It sounds a lot like 'Dr. Jekyl' - but is Dr. James F. Jekel to be precise. And what a blessing he was. A warm and honest man - Dr. Jekel loved people and was involved in setting up and monitoring programmes in various places around the world - and seeing real results take place - besides conducting reams of studies of issues like teen pregnancies in the 3 decades of professional work at Yale and writing a widely used text on Epidemiology.
The other thing that has kept me going has been to see the fruits of people who have invested themselves in others. Many of them have done so because of their faith in Christ - and desire to serve Him by serving others. They have often been considered unfashionable at best, with further opinions starting at 'narrow-minded' and proceeding downwards. But what these usually unsung heroes (and heroines) have showed me is that it is possible to take a cold hard look at the brokenness and deception of humanity - and still do good work. That there is real hope available - though many times the hoped for results do not show up as quickly (and certainly not as easily) as we hope. Some of these heroes are doing things that only eternity will be able to recount.
Despite the crass misuse of development by so many - we still believe that change is possible. And that's part of the reason why we do what we do at Jeevan Sahara. Many times we hardly see anything 'dramatic' - but we know that we are in this for the long haul. Just like God in His mercy continues to do his work of transformation in our own lives.
Home
Home. We all long for it.
I was away from the family for a mere 80 hours last week. Its been a long time since I did some serious wandering. The time in Vellore was superb - filled chock-a-block with meeting old pals - and making a serious number of new ones. But a significant part of my inner geography was questing for Sheba and Asha and Enoch.
And what a sweet joy to step out of the lift at 11.30 PM and see the poster waiting for me. Then to ring the bell and dissolve into the embraces of my lovely ladies (Enoch had nodded off some time before - so his embraces were received the next morning).
We long for home. We have a hunger to belong. To be safe. To be secure.
Even if we don't experience it to the level that I am tasting it at this point - the very nature of this soft ache points us towards the reality of a true home. We may be a third-culture kid who has roamed the world and is looking for roots. Or we may be a person who has lived in one place all their life - and yet knows that there must be more than what we experience - something / some place of complete acceptance - a place of true rest.
A certain sage called Phil B once took us through a Bible study where he talked about how Jesus become home-less, so that we could find our way home. As humanity we have wandered far away - and yet eternity still rests in our hearts - pushing us towards our home with God if we will listen - if we will accept the loving hand of a man who did not have a place to lay his head - but who has gone to prepare a place for us.
I was away from the family for a mere 80 hours last week. Its been a long time since I did some serious wandering. The time in Vellore was superb - filled chock-a-block with meeting old pals - and making a serious number of new ones. But a significant part of my inner geography was questing for Sheba and Asha and Enoch.
And what a sweet joy to step out of the lift at 11.30 PM and see the poster waiting for me. Then to ring the bell and dissolve into the embraces of my lovely ladies (Enoch had nodded off some time before - so his embraces were received the next morning).
We long for home. We have a hunger to belong. To be safe. To be secure.
Even if we don't experience it to the level that I am tasting it at this point - the very nature of this soft ache points us towards the reality of a true home. We may be a third-culture kid who has roamed the world and is looking for roots. Or we may be a person who has lived in one place all their life - and yet knows that there must be more than what we experience - something / some place of complete acceptance - a place of true rest.
A certain sage called Phil B once took us through a Bible study where he talked about how Jesus become home-less, so that we could find our way home. As humanity we have wandered far away - and yet eternity still rests in our hearts - pushing us towards our home with God if we will listen - if we will accept the loving hand of a man who did not have a place to lay his head - but who has gone to prepare a place for us.
Monday, 4 October 2010
Welcome to the city
Dinesh has TB. He has HIV too. He is 26 years old.
15 years ago, all of 11, Dinesh ran away from his home. Ran away from his handicapped father and illiterate mother. Ran away from the village where his parents live. Ran to the city.
As with many young boys - working in one of the many grubby eateries offered a place for Dinesh to get some food and a place to sleep. This has been his life since then.
Behind the glittering spires of swanky Mumbai town are the myriad lives like Dinesh who have come to make a better life. The better so quickly shades into the bitter.
Somewhere along the way Dinesh got HIV. Was it from a girlfriend or a prostitute? Was he abused himself? Did he experiment with other men? We don't know at this point - and though we will eventually help Dinesh explore his risk history - at this point we want to get him onto TB treatment - and assess him to see how far the HIV has damaged his immunity.
Meanwhile, on tonight's incoming trains another set of "Dineshes" will be entering Mumbai. Fueled by our 8% + growth rate. Fueled by hope of a better life. Some with contacts they hope to pursue. Some pursued by fear.
Tonight a few more boys will be added to the unending sprawl of greater Mumbai Urban Agglomoration - over 16 million strong in the census a decade ago. The vast urban stretch that is Mumbai will creak a little more. Most of the boys will meld into the shadows. A few like Dinesh will come in contact with people who care.
Growing up in Mumbai I had a blast. It was a city full of nooks and crannies to explore. Vendours selling old coins at Colaba. Red double-decker busses taking me along Marine Drive with the wind blowing in my face as we looked out the front windows on the upper deck. Cycle tours into the quiet greenery of Borivali National Park.
But then again I was so amazingly blessed to have loving parents who cared for me. To have a lifestyle that is inconceivable to a boy like Dinesh.
Being in the city now is less of a joy. The rosy glasses are off and the sheer horribleness of these fetid mess that we inhabit lingers longer. I certainly don't have many big answers to the issues of our urban blight, but I do know that the more we befriend Dinesh the better. As we step out of our comfort zone and participate in the lives of other 'Dineshes' we can see some changes take place. Our prayers together, our acts of service and mercy, our living life intentionally can and will shape the destinies of so many. And yet as we look we see so few being partnered with in these ways.
Press on.
15 years ago, all of 11, Dinesh ran away from his home. Ran away from his handicapped father and illiterate mother. Ran away from the village where his parents live. Ran to the city.
As with many young boys - working in one of the many grubby eateries offered a place for Dinesh to get some food and a place to sleep. This has been his life since then.
Behind the glittering spires of swanky Mumbai town are the myriad lives like Dinesh who have come to make a better life. The better so quickly shades into the bitter.
Somewhere along the way Dinesh got HIV. Was it from a girlfriend or a prostitute? Was he abused himself? Did he experiment with other men? We don't know at this point - and though we will eventually help Dinesh explore his risk history - at this point we want to get him onto TB treatment - and assess him to see how far the HIV has damaged his immunity.
Meanwhile, on tonight's incoming trains another set of "Dineshes" will be entering Mumbai. Fueled by our 8% + growth rate. Fueled by hope of a better life. Some with contacts they hope to pursue. Some pursued by fear.
Tonight a few more boys will be added to the unending sprawl of greater Mumbai Urban Agglomoration - over 16 million strong in the census a decade ago. The vast urban stretch that is Mumbai will creak a little more. Most of the boys will meld into the shadows. A few like Dinesh will come in contact with people who care.
Growing up in Mumbai I had a blast. It was a city full of nooks and crannies to explore. Vendours selling old coins at Colaba. Red double-decker busses taking me along Marine Drive with the wind blowing in my face as we looked out the front windows on the upper deck. Cycle tours into the quiet greenery of Borivali National Park.
But then again I was so amazingly blessed to have loving parents who cared for me. To have a lifestyle that is inconceivable to a boy like Dinesh.
Being in the city now is less of a joy. The rosy glasses are off and the sheer horribleness of these fetid mess that we inhabit lingers longer. I certainly don't have many big answers to the issues of our urban blight, but I do know that the more we befriend Dinesh the better. As we step out of our comfort zone and participate in the lives of other 'Dineshes' we can see some changes take place. Our prayers together, our acts of service and mercy, our living life intentionally can and will shape the destinies of so many. And yet as we look we see so few being partnered with in these ways.
Press on.
Sunday, 3 October 2010
We cannot change the past to justify the politics of the present.
Romila Thapar is a distinguished historian of early India - and a person who articulates cogently some of what I feel about the court verdict on the title to the site claimed to be the birthplace of Ram. Many moons ago I tagged along with my friend Vasant Sabharwal and thus had the privilege of having a cup of coffee with her on a crisp cold day in a New Haven cafe.This op-ed appeared in The Hindu newspaper yesterday:
We cannot change the past to justify the politics of the present.
The verdict is a political judgment and reflects a decision which could as well have been taken by the state years ago. Its focus is on the possession of land and the building a new temple to replace the destroyed mosque. The problem was entangled in contemporary politics involving religious identities but also claimed to be based on historical evidence. This latter aspect has been invoked but subsequently set aside in the judgment.
The court has declared that a particular spot is where a divine or semi-divine person was born and where a new temple is to be built to commemorate the birth. This is in response to an appeal by Hindu faith and belief. Given the absence of evidence in support of the claim, such a verdict is not what one expects from a court of law. Hindus deeply revere Rama as a deity but can this support a legal decision on claims to a birth-place, possession of land and the deliberate destruction of a major historical monument to assist in acquiring the land?
The verdict claims that there was a temple of the 12th Century AD at the site which was destroyed to build the mosque — hence the legitimacy of building a new temple.
The excavations of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) and its readings have been fully accepted even though these have been strongly disputed by other archaeologists and historians. Since this is a matter of professional expertise on which there was a sharp difference of opinion the categorical acceptance of the one point of view, and that too in a simplistic manner, does little to build confidence in the verdict. One judge stated that he did not delve into the historical aspect since he was not a historian but went to say that history and archaeology were not absolutely essential to decide these suits! Yet what are at issue are the historicity of the claims and the historical structures of the past one millennium.
A mosque built almost 500 years ago and which was part of our cultural heritage was destroyed wilfully by a mob urged on by a political leadership. There is no mention in the summary of the verdict that this act of wanton destruction, and a crime against our heritage, should be condemned. The new temple will have its sanctum — the presumed birthplace of Rama — in the area of the debris of the mosque. Whereas the destruction of the supposed temple is condemned and becomes the justification for building a new temple, the destruction of the mosque is not, perhaps by placing it conveniently outside the purview of the case.
The verdict has created a precedent in the court of law that land can be claimed by declaring it to be the birthplace of a divine or semi-divine being worshipped by a group that defines itself as a community. There will now be many such janmasthans wherever appropriate property can be found or a required dispute manufactured. Since the deliberate destruction of historical monuments has not been condemned what is to stop people from continuing to destroy others? The legislation of 1993 against changing the status of places of worship has been, as we have seen in recent years, quite ineffective.
What happened in history, happened. It cannot be changed. But we can learn to understand what happened in its fuller context and strive to look at it on the basis of reliable evidence. We cannot change the past to justify the politics of the present. The verdict has annulled respect for history and seeks to replace history with religious faith. True reconciliation can only come when there is confidence that the law in this country bases itself not just on faith and belief, but on evidence.
Shiloh
I am writing from CMC Vellore. Its pathetically late at night. And I am about to get up at 4.45 am to attend a sunrise service on college hill. I am typing on a small netbook that Kenny David is allowing me to use. The coffee Judy gave me tonight has done its trick. Its a happy 2.30 AM now.
I travelled down here to to the Shiloh Students' Mission Conference to meet medical and nursing students. To talk about what we are hoping for a Jeevan Sahara Kendra. To meet some of the amazing folks who make up the Christian Medical College. And yes, I was also hoping to meet some of the dear friends who have been part of Sheba and my walk over the last 15 odd years.
I got all I wanted - in spades.
It was remarkable to be with what must be something like 400 odd medical and nursing students and graduates - all at different levels - who are hungry for God and want to live out their lives for Jesus through their profession.
I had gone to speak with students - but am so blessed by the amazing speakers who poured out their hearts - Dr. John Joseph, Bro Augustine Jebakumar, Dr. Victor Choudhurie, Dr. Rajkumar Ramachandran, Dr. Stephen Alfred, Drs. Isaac and Vijila David... We are blessed with people who have lived life well - and are here to challenge the next gen.
"Take your candle... go light the world." An amazing end to Day 1. To have a room full of light - that of 300 plus candles - forming a waving constellation of light and song. And knowing that each person present can make such a huge difference.
All through the day it was such a privilege to meet medical and nursing students and interns. To see how each life can be used for God's glory. To spur each other on to making wise and courageous choices about our careers.
It was a special privilege for me to participate in seminar on leadership by Dr. Vinod Shah. Dr. Shah helped us look at the story of the servant girl and Namaan the Assyrian General with fresh eyes. Having worked with Dr. Shah in EHA - it was a privilege to see him share from his vast experience in simple terms - and to know that he continues to live out this leadership with humility and love for God.
Did we find the person that we are hoping will join us at JSK? I don't know. I got to meet many wonderful people and was again struck by the need across our country for people to serve in the many challenging opportunities that we have. Perhaps one of the conversations that I had may end up with one or more people joining us here. And if one of the conversations helped nudge someone to join another of the many excellent organisations who came to SHILOH then I will be thrilled. The needs are so great - and so are the opportunities to help shape destinies!
Dr. Alex Philip, Dr. Kenny David, Brian David and moi!
A final word. What a great privilege to meet so many of our friends with whom we have traversed the past 15 years of work. I was graciously hosted by Drs. Kenny and Judy David with whom I had worked at Nav Jeevan Hospital in Satbarwa, Jharkhand. The list of remarkable people is a yard long - and what a privilege it is to walk a little further on the road together.
I travelled down here to to the Shiloh Students' Mission Conference to meet medical and nursing students. To talk about what we are hoping for a Jeevan Sahara Kendra. To meet some of the amazing folks who make up the Christian Medical College. And yes, I was also hoping to meet some of the dear friends who have been part of Sheba and my walk over the last 15 odd years.
I got all I wanted - in spades.It was remarkable to be with what must be something like 400 odd medical and nursing students and graduates - all at different levels - who are hungry for God and want to live out their lives for Jesus through their profession.
I had gone to speak with students - but am so blessed by the amazing speakers who poured out their hearts - Dr. John Joseph, Bro Augustine Jebakumar, Dr. Victor Choudhurie, Dr. Rajkumar Ramachandran, Dr. Stephen Alfred, Drs. Isaac and Vijila David... We are blessed with people who have lived life well - and are here to challenge the next gen.
"Take your candle... go light the world." An amazing end to Day 1. To have a room full of light - that of 300 plus candles - forming a waving constellation of light and song. And knowing that each person present can make such a huge difference.All through the day it was such a privilege to meet medical and nursing students and interns. To see how each life can be used for God's glory. To spur each other on to making wise and courageous choices about our careers.
It was a special privilege for me to participate in seminar on leadership by Dr. Vinod Shah. Dr. Shah helped us look at the story of the servant girl and Namaan the Assyrian General with fresh eyes. Having worked with Dr. Shah in EHA - it was a privilege to see him share from his vast experience in simple terms - and to know that he continues to live out this leadership with humility and love for God.
Did we find the person that we are hoping will join us at JSK? I don't know. I got to meet many wonderful people and was again struck by the need across our country for people to serve in the many challenging opportunities that we have. Perhaps one of the conversations that I had may end up with one or more people joining us here. And if one of the conversations helped nudge someone to join another of the many excellent organisations who came to SHILOH then I will be thrilled. The needs are so great - and so are the opportunities to help shape destinies!
Dr. Alex Philip, Dr. Kenny David, Brian David and moi!A final word. What a great privilege to meet so many of our friends with whom we have traversed the past 15 years of work. I was graciously hosted by Drs. Kenny and Judy David with whom I had worked at Nav Jeevan Hospital in Satbarwa, Jharkhand. The list of remarkable people is a yard long - and what a privilege it is to walk a little further on the road together.
Take off
Light-smeared grey night outside
Red and blue lights flicker by
Delicious hum of engines beneath
We wait
With slightly bated breath
'Crew to your stations for take off'
Curt voice cuts through soft tinny syrup tunes
We wait
We wait
Then ever-so-slightly the hum shifts
A roar, tiger-strength, sustained
Our craft lumps along, flexing
Rolling ends and swings to the ever-increasing
Rumble of lights flashing by
We become unstuck and lift shuddering
Into the diamond bleeding darkness
Of the night sky
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