Mapping

For the past fortnight I have been looking at our work from a different angle.  Literally from above.  A ‘God’s-eye-view’ as it were.

Courtesy google maps.

Earlier this year we did our survey of all of our active home-based care Positive Friends.  Our home-based care teams worked hard and tried to meet all 142 of them – we finally managed to interview 135 of them.  Then there were the ‘secondary contacts.’  Folks who we have been actively involved with in the past – but who for various reason don’t need (or don’t want) active follow-up these days.   Our teams interviewed 96.  We ended up with 231 priceless surveys done with HIV Positive Friends whom Jeevan Sahara has been working with.

This was the fifth time we did the survey at Jeevan Sahara – a simple questionnaire that asks our HIV Positive Friends to tell us what their health was like in the past month.  And also how rated their adherence to the ART medications that most are on at this point. 

What was different this year was the quality of the interviewing.  We were able to meet almost everyone and make sure that almost every single question was asked and entered.  And in a wonderfully timed move – a new version of Epi Info – the tried and trusted free data analysis programme that the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) was released. 

My first joy was to use the EPI Info 7 to run through the survey data.  As we explored the figures we found out so many important things about our Positive Friends that we don’t see in the day to day.  We were reminded of the sobering fact that two-thirds of the men are alcoholics or have a history of alcohol abuse.  We saw the good news that most of our folks are now taking their anti-retroviral therapy (ART) and that too accessing it free from the government sources.  We had the sober realization that even though most people rated their health as ‘good’ or better – that a full 4 out of 5 reported at least one health issue in the previous 30 days.  We saw clear documentation that people who are stable on ART enjoy better health than people who are not on ART or have just started their ART.  The list goes on.

Then I did a little looking back in time.  We compared this year’s data with the data of the first survey that we did in 2005.  Striking changes.  Our folk today are clearly healthier than the people we were working with 8 years ago.  And the good news is that we are still in contact with some of them!  An amazing 17 people have been now interviewed in each of the 5 surveys that we did.  There is data just crying to be analyzed here…

So where does the ‘God’s-eye-perspective’ come in with all of this?

Well, it stems from the fact that Epi Info 7 has a mapping function that seamlessly links in with Bing maps (or whatever your favourite mapping utility is).

When I was in graduate school – taking a GIS course meant accessing satellite data which cost a bomb.  I knew that there was little hope of getting high quality sat data for India so I didn’t bother with the course.  

Today it’s all available on line.  A seamless mosaic of images at different levels courtesy of google maps (and their ilk).

 

And so what Epi Info 7 wanted from me for each of the data points was a geographic location.  I toyed with the idea of getting a GPS and asking our staff to go to each home and get a reading.  Then I thought about using mobile phones.  But to my disappointment none of our staff have mobile phones with those functions.  We are team for whom the terms Blackberry, Galaxy and I-phone are still foreign words.  

But then I realized that I could use google maps.  I sat down with our home-based care teams and showed them the virtual map of Thane.  We identified where a particular person lived – often simulating how the team goes to the particular Positive Friends house.  When we agreed on the location we right-clicked and chose the ‘what’s here?’ function.  Up popped the longitude and latitude for that point in space.  I thus had a geo-tag for the person in question.  I just needed to copy it into the data base – into the newly made columns of ‘latitude’ and ‘longitude’ of course. 

When we had done this for 8 folks to start with, we made our first ‘map.’  The 8 data points showed up on the Thane map.  Showing us where these 8 Positive Friends lived.  I could then have these 8 points show me the spatial distribution of any of the variables that we had asked in the survey.  Who had a fever in previous month?  Bang.  Displayed.   Which are men and which are women?  Add another data layer, change the filter settings – and you have a map showing the distribution by gender.  Which folk are being looked by which of our mini-teams?  A change in the data filter and a new set of info displayed.  Want to zoom in and see who is living close to whom?  The internet enabled map allows me to do so.

 

Thrilled with our first 8 folks, we then worked on the other 223 odd ones.  It was painstaking work – translating our teams’ on-the-ground experiences of getting to the homes of our Positive Friends into a specific data point.  Many, many of our friends live in the shanty-towns that form so much of Thane.  We can never identify exactly where a person lives given the maze of tiny alleys and the uniform image of row after row of flat roof that a slum looks like from above.  But we can get a pretty good shot at the general location. Somewhere within 30-50 meters or so of where they live.  And a surprising number of folks we were able to actually identify what was most likely their shack!

And so a blearly 10 days later we now have an interactive map of the dear folks we are working with.

The next steps?

One is to link the current levels of ART adherence – and display them so that our staff can see which folks are in a ‘danger’ level – and which ones are doing well.

Another would be to make a map that would show folks who have missed an appointment.  We have a small component of our work were we are providing free ART for 6 months to a few folks.  A simple spreadsheet which compares their next appointment date with today’s date can show if a person has missed their scheduled appointment – and this could be displayed on the map as a red dot for example.

But what would really be a bomb would be to have a real time adherence map.  One where our staff would enter adherence data via phone – and which would then update and display the current levels of ART adherence for all our Positive Friends!  One of the benefits would be build in early alerts – say a person has less than 90% adherence – we would want their case-managers to do another visit in a week!   To do this would need some basic android programming – and some time.

At the same time, we have the sobering reminder that maps alone do not change hearts.

What we really have going for us, are our wonderfully dedicated staff – whose love and care have developed relationships that cross time.  The dots on the screen are a small testament to the web of relationships our staff and others from local churches have made with the HIV Positive Friends we work with.

I may have a geo-tag for one of our Positive Friends – but that is not 100% accurate – and that person may leave and head off for somewhere else anytime.  But there is one who knows not only my exact location in real time – but also knows the hairs on my head.  Our knowledge – however sophisticated we may feel it is today - is always a rough tool, a crude instrument compared overwhelming omniscience of Father God.  But how He delights when we discover and explore!

Learning from Looking after Hamsters

Hamsters = happiness.

Ok, not quite that simple, but we have certainly had a lot of joy in caring for our three furry friends - Garlic, Pepper and Cinnamon.

Word has got around and almost every evening most of the girls in the neighbourhood come for a visit to see the hamsters.  Garlic and Pepper - our males (above sleeping peacefully during the day) are the most friends and being long-haired they are oohed and aahed and carried and squealed over by the lasses.

Cinnamon is a bit cooler.  A bit of a loner.  Not as quick to allow herself to be picked up.

And then this week we got another hamster!  Madge (short for "her Majesty the queen") is a Syrian female belonging to the Vethanayagam family who were on a week-long trip to Andhra Pradesh and needed a home for their baby.  Madge goes back to her owners tomorrow.

At the end of the day - these little rodents (we were trying to think of a Hindi word for hamster and all we came up with was 'chua' i.e. 'rat') are fully and completely dependent on us.   Asha has been pretty good about helping with the feeding and cleaning of their living bins (we have large open plastic bins for them).  But Sheba and I need to make sure that they get their food and water and have their litter cleaned up daily.

Without our intervention - they are trapped.  And can never provide for themselves.  Take our constant care for them away - and that the end of our furry friends.  At the end of the day I find myself amazed at how much time we spend with and on Garlic, Pepper and Cinnamon (and for this week Madge as well).

This got me thinking.

Thinking about how our Heavenly Father who looks after us.  As I write this, we are just about to fall off to sleep ... and will be awakened at some time tomorrow morning.  By His grace and kindness.   Our food, our safety, the very air that we breathe is a gift from Him who does not slumber.  Over and over again we are protected from harm.  All our needs are met.  We are refreshed and renewed in so many ways.  Our lives are a tapestry of care and grace - amidst the grime of so much around us - and so much of what we do with our lives.

And aknowleging God's grace is key to the near and present future.

This coming week is likely to be a pivotal one for us.  Tomorrow morning Sheba has her ultrasound which should guide our choices on the planned surgery.  When will it be?  Maybe Wednesday Aug. 14th...

Since her terrible pain and hospital admission 2 weeks ago - she has been blessedly free from pain except for one day last week.  And through it all, Sheba has been able to care for patients at JSK - including in-patients.  Truly a wounded healer.

We would love to have a 'miraculous healing' - but last week's pain was a reminder that the issue is still there.  The way it looks at this point is that surgery is the way foward.

We are thrilled that my parents and flying down to be with us - we expect them Tuesday night.  

Lots of things up in the air.

One thing we know - our dear Lord Jesus will look after us far more than we have been looking after our hamsters.  We are very precious to Him - and He knows the hairs on our head (even though mine have been getting easier to count for some time now!) - and He will carry us through.

There is a hymn that Sheba and I like to sing which is apt for this coming week:

How good is the God we adore
Our faithful unchangeble friend
Whose love is as great as His power
And knows neither measure nor end

Tis Jesus the first and the last
Whose Spirit will guide us safe home
We'll praise Him for all that is past
And trust Him for all that's to come 

Airdash

I had woken up to the beauty of a Mussoorie morning.

Half an hour later I heard Dad calling me: "phone call for you!"

The call was from home.  My gut tightened a bit.

"Daddy" said Enoch "Mummy is very sick"

I was in Mussoorie.  Sheba was in Thane.  In terrible pain.  With two very sad children.  2500 kms between us.  Ugh.

The previous week Sheba had not been well.  Abdominal pains at different times.  And then it seemed to settle.  Self-medication with paracetemol and prayer.

On the day I left for Delhi I was in an agony of indecision.  I was pale and sleepless myself and felt vertigo and did a bit of puking.  But then a nap after dropping off the kids at school (and having them rush back because it was a 'rain holiday') got me better.   I prayed and made the call to go.  Sheba bravely let me.

The next day she was taken to the hospital by Suma and Rachael from our church.  A quick checkup and some pain meds were prescribed.  All 'normal.'   Sheba has been suffering for the last 2 years from a gall stone and a hydrosalpinx - a distended cyst in the fallopian tube.  Both can cause discomfort - but which one was the culprit this time?  Sheba continued to see patients over the past week and kept her pain private.  And there were also times when it wasn't there.

Friday was one such day. When I talked to Sheba on the phone as I and my friend Danny were on the train to Dehra Dun - Sheba was great.  That evening she went out shopping with the kids and hosted the Bible study in our flat.  A call late at night - just after Danny and I had reached Mussoorie and everything was fine with Sheba.

Everything, that is, till 4 am on Saturday morning.

Then Sheba experienced exrcuricating abdominal pain.  After an hour or so she called Agnes over for a voveron (diclofenac) injection.  Agnes came over and gave it.  No relief.  More agony.  Suma and Rachael came over immediately.   Sheba did not want to call me, since I had just arrived in Mussoorie the night before, but at 8 it was too bad and Enoch gave me the news. 

I talked to Sheba briefly.  It was enough.

Shaken, I put down the receiver and told Mum and Dad.  We prayed.  I checked the internet for flights.  There were a few.  I prayed and saw a 3.40 pm flight from Dehra Dun.  6 PM from Delhi.  ETA 8 PM in Mumbai.  I could be with Sheba by 9.30 PM if all went well.   Price not impossible. Click click.  It was booked.   

I went up and told Mum and Dad that I was going.  We booked a taxi down.  Mum and Dad decided to go with me to spend as much time as possible together.  I explained to Danny.  We cancelled my parts of our train tickets.  He would continue on as we had originally planned.

Mum and Dad and I left the house.  The greenery of a Mussoorie monsoon is breath-taking.

The love that my parents have for each other and for Stefan, Premi and myself and all our other brothers and sisters and virtually everyone on this planet - is as green as their surroundings.

Being with them - even just for a few hours - so worth it.

At 11.30 we were up at Sisters Bazaar.  Then we were winging it down to Dehra Dun and then out towards Rishikesh to the quaintly named 'Jolly Grant Airport' which services Dehra Dun (and Rishikesh and points East).

After our goodbye prayers and kisses - I was ready to leave.  But where was the plane?  Half an hour before the 3.40 pm take-off time, it was nowhere to be seen. 

Then out of the awesome blue and white clouded sky drops a beauty of a plane.

A few minutes later, the few passengers who had come to Dehra Dun via Lucknow got off.  And it was our turn to board.

Looking at this beauty of a plane, I had a huge sense of deja vu - and it was only afterwards that I realised what it was....

The plane was definitely like the millionaire's private jet in the Tintin adventure Flight 714.   Behold!

 A last look at the magnificent sky with the first range of the Himalaya giving us the horizon....

 ... and we were away - off into the clouds.  A hop and a skip and a jump to Delhi.  30 minutes of flight time - gobbling up the 6 hour 'express' train journey I had started exactly 24 hours before.

My prayers were focussed to Sheba.  I had found out that she had been admitted at Bethany hospital and was sleeping.

In Delhi's swank airport, I tapped in a Facebook status update to let people know what was going on.  By evening an avalanche of prayers and wishes were sent our way.

Then a clear shot to Mumbai and I arrived in the rainy night and blurry traffic of Mumbai.

Just before 10 PM I got home.  Sheba had told me on the phone to meet the kids first.  She was doing better and could wait for me.

I rang the bell and was greeted with hugs all around.  Their bestest friends Nikita and Jasper were with them.  John and Nalini had also been pillars of support over that terrible day.   Agnes was just about to give them supper and so we ate and talked.

The great thing about kids is that even in times of tension - they can relax - when they know things are going to be ok.  With Nikita and Jasper there - Asha and Enoch were so happy.  Having 3 hamsters to play with helps:

 

As does having a friend who is willing to play lego with you: 

Then a goodnight to the kids and over to see Sheba.  Nalini and Rachael were with her.  The kids had been to see Sheba earlier.  Now Nalini was dropped of at our place - and she and John took the kids to their home and to church in Borivali the next day.

I spent the night next to Sheba in the hospital.

She was a peace - but had been through so much in the past 18 hours.   The drips were on and I was given a task to monitor it while Sheba had a blessed sleep.

The ultrasound had shown that the hydrosalpinx had contorted - causing tremendous pain.  By early afternoon - and after much prayer - the pain had subsided.  Sheba said that so many had rallied round her. Rachael was at the home in 10 minutes after Sheba first called Suma.  They were singing and praying with Sheba in the casualty ward - and massaging her when the high-level pain-killers given still didn't bring the desired relief.

As I watched the drip that night, small drops falling through the tube, on the way into Sheba's veins, I had to thank God for what he had done.

For me to wake up in the clear air of Mussoorie - and then to be back with my beloved the very evening was more than a miracle.

For Sheba to have come through her pain and be safe and under control was a blessing.

For us to see just how many people love us and go the second and third and fourth mile for us is overwhelming.

And then we think of the people that we are working with - so many who are just so sick - and have burned their bridges.

A man came two weeks ago to meet Sheba and told her 'even if my sister dies - don't call me - I have nothing to do with her' - that about his own sister who we were looking after at that time in the JSK centre.

How different our lives are.

---------------------------------------------

We are, of course, not fully out of the woods yet.

After spending a night in hospital with Sheba - we were thrilled that she did not have more pain - and so were discharged in the morning - returning to an eerily quiet home (the 3 hamsters were having their normal siesta during the day) as Asha and Enoch were with the Gabriel family.  When they returned in the afternoon - there was so much to be thankful for.

This morning we talked to Dr. Stephen about the next steps.

This is what it looks like.  

Sheba is to be admitted at Bethany Hospital today after 5 PM.

Her surgery is posted for 7 AM on Wednesday morning.  It will be a laproscopic surgery.  Dr. Stephen will first remove the gall bladder.  Then the other surgeon will work on the cyst - probably removing the left ovary as well.  

Sheba should be in the hospital for about 3 days and then another 10 days to recover at home.

Sheba's sister Sarah is on the way - arriving tomorrow from Delhi to be with us for the next 5 days.  

We have been overwhelmed with phone calls, SMSes and offers to help out.  This evening Jolly, Suma and Reneta came over to pray for Sheba - and in their inimitable way brought us a meal too. 

No one likes surgery.  But some things have to be done.  Sheba is so brave about it all. 

And so we step into the next adventure. 

Thanks for being along with us for the journey.  And thanks for the many heart-felt prayers and wishes.

Onwards.

Impact

It happened in a split second.  A sudden sickening unbelievable sight of a motor-bike coming straight at me.  Brakes slammed and the next thing there is an impact and the bike and both driver and rider go forward into the air and hit the road.

I am paralysed.  Then pull over.  People gather around.  The bikers join.

First confused thought:  At least they are still walking.

Blur. Fear. What is going on?

The bikers are angry.  One of them is clearly hurt in his leg and arm.  I ask the locals where the nearest hospital is.  Over the bridge some say.  We agree to go immediately for treatment.

The injured man is put in the back of our car.  The other man drives the bike slowly behind me.  We make it over the bridge.  Up the stairs into a small private nursing home.  The man is put into their ‘ICU.’  The doctor goes in to see.  I wait outside. 

A call to Sheba to tell what happened.   A call to Vasu who I was due to meet.  He tells me he will be right over.  SMSs to a few folks to pray for me.  The ward aide comes out with a list of things I should buy.  I go to their pharmacy and purchase them.  Antiseptic cream, gloves, gauze bandage, tetanus toxoid, some medications.  I give the items back to the aide who goes back in.

Finally the man comes out.  His name is Deepak.  His friend, the motorcycle driver is Dinesh.  Young men.  Working for a computer repair company.  They were driving to a client. 

I was in an unfamiliar part of Mumbai.  Was turning onto a main highway via a small side road, going up a slope.  I had been following a trio of auto-rickshaws.  I hadn’t seen the traffic light.  It was red.  I was clearly in the wrong.  What could I say but ‘sorry.’  What was going to happen to Deepak?

The doctor had done a checkup.  No head injury.  No altered sensoria.  Scraped leg and arm.  Dressing done.  Advised x-ray.  They did not have x-ray facilities in the nursing home.  The ward aide took us over to scan centre for the x-ray.

Deepak was hurting as he walked.  His sandals were broken.  His pant was shredded.  Dinesh – amazingly as I think about it now – seemed unscathed.  He had been wearing a helmet.  Deepak had not.  They talked about how the bike was totaled and that it was their boss’ bike.

While we were waiting for the x-ray to be done Vasu and Devan managed to find us.  They leant a sympathetic ear.  We got the x-ray done.  No obvious fracture.  But the radiologist would only give the final report in the evening.

In the meantime we called a mechanic to assess the bike.  Vasu’s pastor lived near-by and knew a reliable fellow.  We took Deepak to get some new sandals.  Then Devan took him to get a new pair of pants.

The mechanic stopped by and did a quick dekko.  Amazingly, it was minor damage – on an old beater of a motorbike.  A missing pedal, a broken taillight (the other already missing), a broken brake handle, some impact on the fork.  The mechanic told us that he could fix it in half an hour.

Devan came back with a newly outfitted Deepak.  They agreed to let us fix their bike.  We took Deepak with us in the car while Dinesh followed on the bike.

All along the terrible weight of fear.  And the prayers that kept taking things forward.  I found it hard to call Sheba since it all seemed so unclear as it was happening.  A maze.  A fog.  But one made easier by the prayers of the people. By SMSes that came in telling that we were not alone.  By Vasu and Devan being their and patiently helping work through the relationship with these men.

And then at 4.30 it was over.  We shook hands.  Deepak and Dinesh got on their bike and headed off.  Devan took the bus back to work.  Vasu and I went for a long-overdue masala dosa. 

While at one point Dinesh had said that the cost of repairing the bike would come to Rs. 5000 – as the time went on they did not make any direct demand for money.  We worked to get all the treatment done in the best way possible, and provided the modest restoration of Deepaks clothes and sandals.  We also got the medications needed and promised to pick up the final radiologist’s report.  No demand for money came from them.  As time had gone on, they also understood who we were.  I had given my card and address immediately to them at our initial meeting. 

I wouldn’t say we parted as friends – but there was mutual respect and a kind of simple camaraderie.

Answers to heart-felt prayers.

--------------------------

Even now I am still carrying part of the weight of the incident.  That freeze-second sight of the bike hitting the road and the two men falling off.  The haze of confusion afterwards.

Just a little bit different in any of a myriad ways and I could be dealing with one or both of these young men suffering from life-time paralysis due to the accident.  Or I could be knowing that I had played a part in the death of one man.  Or in the earthly end of both.

We live our lives on the razor edge of destiny.

As I look out on the monsoonal green tree outside our flat here in Thane, as I hear the pigeons landing on the tin awnings above, and hear the sounds of the big city filter in – grinders and polishing machines from a near-by building where someone is doing up their flat – the low groan of cars punctuated by various beeps of horns – as the grey monsoonal sky bathes the house with soft ochre light – all I can say is that I am grateful.  Very, very, very grateful.

The quaking inside me will probably go on for some time.  It must go on.  I was not just skipping stones on a quiet pond.  The stakes were not trivial.  Multiple lives, multiple futures had come together on that day. 

As the rain has now started slanting down from the grey skies outside, I can say that nothing less that God’s own hand was somehow involved.  Whether angelic beings directly intervened is beyond my ken.  But I do see something far greater than chance operating.  In keeping the Dinesh from getting any injury at all.  In limiting Deepak’s wounds to abrasions.  In stopping a mob from forming and executing their brand of ‘justice’.  In building rapport between us over the hours.  In having friends who came immediately. 

The Good Book says that God listens to the humble and opposes the proud.  I experienced the utter helplessness last week – and felt the gracious hand of Jesus on me.  And continue to need His mercies on me as I heal from the shock.  My prayers continue for Dinesh and Deepak too as they heal from their experience. 

LFU

She dissappeared from the radar two weeks ago.

We had known her for over 5 years.

These have been hard years.  We met her on the street.  Her husband used to drive and autorickshaw.  Alcohol meant they ended up living on the pavement.  He was sick.  We found out he had TB and HIV.  She was also found out to be HIV positive as was their middle child.

The initial days were good.  Her husband responded to love and care.  He even sobered up enough to start driving an auto-rickshaw again.  We were hoping that they would rent a room again and move of the street.

He went back to the bottle.  Dropped off his TB meds.  When our staff went to meet him he would look for ways to dissappear.  He died.

She found another man.  To the detriment of her kids.  We nursed the middle child back to health from his emaciated state.  Got her a new place to stay.  Brought a local church volunteer in the mix.  This elderly lady would go every day to try and meet her. 

But it all went hay-wire.  She kept after the man she wanted.  He was married.  Her kids were locked up at home for most of the day.  The neglect told.  The middle child eventually died.  Heart break for all of us.

The church volunteer stepped in and pleaded with us to have the other two kids put in protective care.  We worked hard and found a wonderful place.  The kids thrived.

She continued her affairs.  One man was put in prison.  She went regularly to meet him.  A few abortions later they had a child. 

All along our staff tried to keep contact with her.  It was hard.  Very hard. 

The man she was after eventually left his family and moved in with her.  They lived in a shack in a slum.  He was not good to her and beat her regularly.  Alcohol showed up again.

"Why is this happening to me?" she would ask our staff.  But sadly she just did not make the positive steps that our staff kept suggesting to her.

Three months ago her slum was cut off by a large wall.  To even get to her place was a challenge.  Then the rains came.

In the mean time the children's home shut down.  Her kids were transferred to new shelters.  Split up.  Her older son - a brilliant boy - ran away from his new orphanage.  He ended up back with his mother and her man.  And his new half sister. He was miserable.

We were trying to find another place for her son.

And then she dissappeared.

Gone.  No trace.  Whole family up and left.

Lost to Follow-up.

LFU is an abbreviation used in surveys when we are unable to meet a participant again.

This lady is now LFU.   Along with her bright boy.

Will we ever see her again?

She knows where we are.  But we do not know where she has gone.

What is the sum of all the hours of love put into that family?  Will we ever know??

She may be lost to us, but we do know that despite all the wrong turns she has taken in her life, she still has a good shepherd who is looking out for her.

But she needs to let Him pick her up, instead of running away from Him as she has been doing all her life.

Oh that she will change from being Lost to Follow Up - to being Lamb Found Unharmed.

Will you say a prayer for this hard-bitten woman?

And will you say a prayer for her son who we assume is with her... and her daughter who is in an orphanage?

Himalayan Tsunami

What do you say when the world slips away?   When all of a sudden things that were solid and dependable turn to slush?  

Last month three days of solid rain over a large part of the Himalayan state of Uttarakhand saturated the mountains with water.  This lead to landslide, flash floods and unprecidented damage.   As the news started trickling out to a stunned nation, the word "Himalayan Tsunami" was coined to describe the utter devastation that took place.

Flash floods in the Himalaya are nothing new.  They happen.  Not often, but often enough.

Over a hundred years ago, a famous swash-buckler called 'Pahari Wilson' was out fishing with his entourage.  To their horror, a wall of water swept down the valley and took Wilson away with it.  The survivors went back to Mussoorie to tell of the death of their 'sahib' and a funeral service was held.  His second son took over the family fortune, but was none to pleased a few weeks later - when his supposedly deceased father showed up again - very much alive!  The flash flood had swept him many miles down stream, and he had managed to live off the woods and then make his way back to civilisation.

So what is different today?

Well for one, the hills are criss-crossed with roads.  Deep long gashes which you see every way you look.  And next to each road are clusters of houses.  Some big enough to be called towns.  And with the Himalaya being very vertical - most of these buildings are perched precariously.  So when the land starts to slip - it takes the buildings with it.   And finally, there is a huge business in religious tourism.  The hills are called the abode of the gods - and something like 60,000 tourists were in Uttarakhand - the majority of them of pilgrimage / holidays - when the rains fell.

The rains did fall.  Mum and Dad were in Mussoorie at the time.  They said it was like someone pouring water out of a bucket.  For 3 solid days.  They had never seen anything like it.   There were a few landslides in Mussoorie, but no real damage.  The real damage took place further in.  Hundreds of roads washed out.  Thousands of houses collapsed, crushed under landslides, washed away by floodwaters.  And in all of this, there were millions of people.

So many died.  The numbers will never be known.  There are figures of as many as 13,000 missing and presumed dead.

Mum and Dad were actually just about to host a group of families who are associated with their church.  Immediately These men and women were coming to Mussoorie for a time of rest and restoration - and a number of them were to stay with Mum and Dad.  Immediately after this retreat they were going on a 2 week holiday.

Then the water came - and soon the landslides prevented any travel.  They called and told that it was impossible to come to Mussoorie.

Mum and Dad heard the news with horror and prayer.   After a few days they had to decide about what to do about their vacation.  After praying, they decided that they needed to spend time away, and so they did.

Going to a secret place, they spent 2 weeks at a hotel.  They read, prayed, listened to music, went on local hikes, prayed some more.

After some time, Dad felt that he had to make some kind of a gesture to express the deep sorrow he had about all the loss people were going through.

Then the idea came to him.  Why not get shaved - as men do when they lose their parent.

And so he did.

The result was heart-warming.  Dad has had so many conversations where he shared his love and concern for people - and why he shaved his head - and how much Jesus also mourns the deaths and destruction that took place.   People have been really touched by his gesture.  Knowing my father, this is no gimmick.  It's a genuine sharing of grief with others.  And a genuine sharing of the joy that Dad has in Jesus.

We understand that they are planning to go deep into the hills now that the roads are being repaired.  The church is planning relief work, and Mum and Dad want to be part of it.

Their heart of compassion continues to beat.  Their attitude of love continues to bear fruit in actions that care.

Mum and Dad and the folks they are with will not erase the pain of the survivors with some kind of flash-in-the-pan conjuring trick.  They are around for the long haul.  Working with local people who themselves are living out lives as Christ-bhakts in the very places where the rains swept life-as-they-knew-it away.


Oh that we would see a Himalayan blessing, where the scars of this terrible episode will be healed - and many of God's simple people equipped to touch the lives of others.

Fur balls!

It's not often that you leave the home with four excited children (Asha and Enoch plus their super super friends Nikita and Jasper).... and come home with five hamsters!

Sunday was H-day for the Eichers in Thane.   After years of subtle and overt demands for pets - and a brief and tearful experience with fish a few years ago - we finally are a family who are not just humanoid - but who also exist at a very small scale - enter the hamsters!

Our dear sister Chinnamma told us that her son Sheryl and his wife Annette had more hamsters than they could handle.  They started with two last November - and ended up with nineteen earlier this year.  We heard that they were down to five and so set up an appointment for Sunday evening.

Since John and Nalini's girls were with us - Sheba and I and the fabulous four piled into our Papaya (the lovely little Nano who has been with us for over a year now) and tooled over to Sheryl and Annette's place.

Once there they graciously showed us the hamsters - 4 males and a female - and the kids went into raptures of excitement.   The Eicher adults were excited too - but we have 40 plus years of learning to hide our feelings!  And so we took a deep breath and said: "we will take all of them!"

Our generous friends gave them to us.  Lock, stock and barrel.  Make that two barrels - the hamsters were housed in two large plastic bins, with lots of tissue paper for them to make nests with, and each had a hamster wheel.   We were overwhelmed with Sheryl and Annette's generosity - and so went out into the monsoonal night richer by five hamsters.

When we got back home, it was delight central.

Nikita and Jasper immediately went about pleading with their parents to let them take one or two - and when John and Nalini relented the only task left was choosing which ones to take.

Sheryl and Annette told us that the males were more friendly.  They kept the single female apart because they knew how fast they breed.  The gestation period is only 16 days!  No wonder they ended up with 19 hamsters at one point.  They also said that they did not want to interbreed them too much - since they were all from one pair.

Later in the evening we unearthed our old fish-tank - and Nikita and Jasper took two males (who have been named Caramel and Peanut) - and one of the hamster wheels - and rode off happily into the night.

So now we have 'only' three hamsters.

The lady has been christened Cinnamon!  Take a bow dear! 

She is a bit shy - and doesn't allow us to hold her easily.   But we are working on it - and its still early days.

Cinnamon really likes to run in the hamster wheel.  Just keeps on moving when we put it in with her.

She is also very interested in smelling it when we bring it from the 'boys' bin.  In fact we have started to wash the wheel before we take it back to the males - after they started acting funny after getting it back the first time after Cinnamon had run on it.   Another hamster wheel has been ordered off the net.

What about the lads then?

Well - strictly speaking they are probably Cinnamon's sons - but we have two lovely chappies who are cute as buttons - and seemingly always ready to be lifted out of their tub!

It took a few hours to come up with their names - but now we have them fixed as 'Garlic' and 'Pepper' - based on their colour.   Asha had chosen Garlic and Enoch had selected Pepper.

Garlic, Pepper and Cinnamon are a variety of the normal Syrian hamsters called 'Teddy Bear' or 'Angora' Hamsters because the males end up having long hair.

What we have to do now is adjust to caring for some very small and very cute lives.

These chaps are nocturnal - so the time when they most want to run around and be picked up and explore is when we are horizontal.   During the day they spend a lot of time curled up in their little nests.

While we are waiting for the new hamster-wheel, we have come up with some alternatives too.  Thank God for the duplos that we have kept for when we are visited by small kids.  Enoch and I were able to make something for the lads to run up and down.  They also use it to jump off - trying to get to the rim of the plastic tub they are in.

Asha and Enoch tell us that all through their school day they are thinking of the hamsters.

For the last two evenings their parents have been working on what it means to be kind to hamsters - and make sure that they are 'having a good time.'

Asha and Enoch have yet to pick up the little fellows without dropping them with a squeal.  But we are working on it.  Asha is allowing them to sniff her hand - and I am getting strong advice from all sides to take them out of their bins - and let them wander around on the floor.  Again with squeals when they start looking at what they can find under the sofas - or decide that the next room is also worth visiting!


As parents, Sheba and I want Asha and Enoch to learn how to look after their first real pets.  We are hoping that they will carefully feed them and clean up their tubs weekly.   We hope that the little ones will learn to trust the kids and that Asha and Enoch will learn to control themselves and be kind and loving to these lovely balls of fur!

But we know that as parents we are going to be taking the major role in hamster care.

Growing up, when the guinea-pig (one of which we had in Nana Chowk for at least a few months) started noisily announcing that it was hungry every morning - it was Mum who brought it something to eat.  When Mum would come into the kitchen, it was normally with all the Eicher cats rushing in along with her, looking up to her, rubbing against her legs, or running ahead with their tails up straight like so many flag posts!

But even if it's 'more work' for the two of us - the sheer joy that is splashed over the faces of Asha and Enoch (and their dear friends Nikita and Jasper) makes it oh-so-worthwhile to have these three little fur-balls named Cinnamon, Garlic and Pepper with us!

And so now to do at night (its 23.43 according to the trusty-rusty computer clock) what these fellows have been doing for most of the day - to sleep!  In the other room, three wide-awake hamsters would love to have someone playing with them.