Amidst the relentless busy-busy-busyness of the last 2 weeks - today has been a haven of peace.
The driving rain outside was enjoyed from indoors.
The day started with our Saturday morning prayer time for JSK. This Saturday hour from 7.30-8.30 am is open to anyone who wants to pray. Today it was enjoyed by Andi and Sheba and two cups of tea.
Then a slow lazy getting up. The kids wanted some things moved around in their room - so parents are happy to oblige. Mould was found on some books (thankyou monsoon!) a brief, brisk clean-up ensued.
As the rain lashed down outside - the Eicher foursome sat down to a late breakfast of waffles! Our amazing Oma has ensured that some of the Eicher traditions are passed down and gifted us the machine 2 years ago. The waffle-iron makes its appearence every now and then - as it did today when we had waffles and maple flavoured syrup to the tune of the rain on our roof. I have to remember the formidable metal clunker from my youth - a venerable East-German machine that may have been made in the fools paradise of the GDR - but made superb waffles. Our current machine is a bit anaemic - but does the job passably.
The rest of the day so far? A short walk outside to by some chicken for supper (we hope that our dear friends the Gabriels will make the trip over to us). A stop at a cobbler to have one of Asha's chappals fixed. A short but hearty conversation with a friend who manages the back behind the cobbler. A few calls. Music practice by the kids. Books. The morning paper. More rain outside. A skimming of mail and some final comments on Ben Davy's capstone paper - off it went to Nebraska. And now this update on ye olde blogge.
Lunch calls. Hot rice and chole (what our American friends call garbonzo beans). I am a very blessed man (and have a small paunch to show for the great food and sedentary lifestyle I live). Off this post goes into the ether - and then we four will sit down for another beautiful meal - at 3 PM.
A lazy Saturday. The best there are.
Perhaps a book read together after lunch? Perhaps a snooze?
The rain continues to lash down outside. Inside all is warm and cozy.
Saturday, 31 July 2010
Wednesday, 28 July 2010
Our man from AP
This week has been a mini-maelstrom - of which we are still spinning from.
In the middle of all of this we had a visit from Mr. Ravi Kumar of NICE Mission - Dommeru AP.
He came out to see what we are doing with HIV care here through Jeevan Sahara Kendra - and to attend the first day session of our Church partner training in HIV/AIDS care.
Looking back I wish his visit had been a bit better - he ended up sick for 1.5 days out of the 4 he spent with us. But all in all it was very much worthwhile for this young man to get a glimpse of what is going on this side of our land.
Ravi tells us that Dommeru is a village of 10,000 people. The government health authorities say that there are 170 known HIV positive cases in the village. How this figure came about he does not know. But it is shocking stuff.
Ravi's father helped start a group of 13 churches in the area - and one of Ravi's main responsibilities as a 25 year old is to run a school. They have 5 children who are HIV positive attending - and another several who are orphaned by HIV.
The village has 5 men who are sick - and whose wives have abandonned them. Ravi and his team have tried to help these men out. They took them to different local people and sought jobs for them. One was taken to a merchant, another to a tailor. The men were rejected because they looked so thin. Ravi tells me that a number of people have been disowned by family members when they were found out to be HIV positive.
Stigma and hatred towards people with HIV continues at so many levels.
This is why Ravi was amazed to visit the people we are working with here. "When I visit the house of the victims here" said Ravi "I see that they are being loved. It is not like in my village."
Yes, it is not like in Dommeru. But many of the people here have been through similar situations - but have stuck on - and have been helped by others. HIV is never easy - even in the most supportive family situations. The disease and the stigma that clings to HIV/AIDS are so insiduous that for most people with HIV the illness seems to ever expand (even when physically under control) and seems to invade every part of their lives.
But with love things can change. Simple acts done by simple people. Simple love put into practice by people who are often quite flawed themselves - but more often than not in our experience - have experienced grace in their own lives.
Ravi is back in Dommeru. I got an SMS earlier this evening saying that he had arrived safely after his 1.5 day journey home. We are so glad to have been able to share a bit of our lives and work here - and trust that it will bear fruit in the far-away East and West Godavari Districts of Andhra Pradesh.
In the middle of all of this we had a visit from Mr. Ravi Kumar of NICE Mission - Dommeru AP.
He came out to see what we are doing with HIV care here through Jeevan Sahara Kendra - and to attend the first day session of our Church partner training in HIV/AIDS care.
Looking back I wish his visit had been a bit better - he ended up sick for 1.5 days out of the 4 he spent with us. But all in all it was very much worthwhile for this young man to get a glimpse of what is going on this side of our land.
Ravi tells us that Dommeru is a village of 10,000 people. The government health authorities say that there are 170 known HIV positive cases in the village. How this figure came about he does not know. But it is shocking stuff.
Ravi's father helped start a group of 13 churches in the area - and one of Ravi's main responsibilities as a 25 year old is to run a school. They have 5 children who are HIV positive attending - and another several who are orphaned by HIV.
The village has 5 men who are sick - and whose wives have abandonned them. Ravi and his team have tried to help these men out. They took them to different local people and sought jobs for them. One was taken to a merchant, another to a tailor. The men were rejected because they looked so thin. Ravi tells me that a number of people have been disowned by family members when they were found out to be HIV positive.
Stigma and hatred towards people with HIV continues at so many levels.
This is why Ravi was amazed to visit the people we are working with here. "When I visit the house of the victims here" said Ravi "I see that they are being loved. It is not like in my village."
Yes, it is not like in Dommeru. But many of the people here have been through similar situations - but have stuck on - and have been helped by others. HIV is never easy - even in the most supportive family situations. The disease and the stigma that clings to HIV/AIDS are so insiduous that for most people with HIV the illness seems to ever expand (even when physically under control) and seems to invade every part of their lives.
But with love things can change. Simple acts done by simple people. Simple love put into practice by people who are often quite flawed themselves - but more often than not in our experience - have experienced grace in their own lives.
Ravi is back in Dommeru. I got an SMS earlier this evening saying that he had arrived safely after his 1.5 day journey home. We are so glad to have been able to share a bit of our lives and work here - and trust that it will bear fruit in the far-away East and West Godavari Districts of Andhra Pradesh.
End of the ride
On the front page of today's Indian Express was an article that I did not want to see. P.G. Tenzing - the cousin of our dear friend Dr. Chering Tenzing has died. Chering had told us before that PG was suffering from severe medical issues - and that he had almost died several times previously - but to see the obituary of someone you know on the front of a paper first thing in the morning is a shock.
P.G. Tenzing had made it big in the Indian Administrative service - rising up in the Kerala cadre
and ably holding varied portfolios in Fishing, Transportation and Information Technology. After 20 years of work, he put in his papers and took to the road on a motorbike. Driving his trusty Enfield, he starting in Kerala and followed his whims - taking notes on the journey for a book he was going to write for Penguin. Chering told us about him when we visited her at the Nav Jivan Hospital in Jharkhand in 2007 - and told us that he may very well be coming our way too.
He did. We had a very brief encounter with P.G. in November of that year. He roared into Thane on his Enfield - spent a morning with us - and then roared on towards Gujarat. We merit a small vignette (page 201-202) in his book Don't Ask Any Old Bloke for Directions which came out 2 years later and which chronicled his 25,320 kms journey.
P.G.'s parting sentence about us was: "I have never prayed so much in such a short time. They were friends of my missionary sister and she'd wanted me to visit them. I did not regret the visit by I was overwhelmed by the praying."
It is so strange to think about Chering's cousin - a person who to me seemed almost larger-than-life - in the 'past tense.'
We meet so many people on this road of life. And then it ends. How fleeting our time is. How long the shadow of eternity looms.
P.G. Tenzing had made it big in the Indian Administrative service - rising up in the Kerala cadre
and ably holding varied portfolios in Fishing, Transportation and Information Technology. After 20 years of work, he put in his papers and took to the road on a motorbike. Driving his trusty Enfield, he starting in Kerala and followed his whims - taking notes on the journey for a book he was going to write for Penguin. Chering told us about him when we visited her at the Nav Jivan Hospital in Jharkhand in 2007 - and told us that he may very well be coming our way too.He did. We had a very brief encounter with P.G. in November of that year. He roared into Thane on his Enfield - spent a morning with us - and then roared on towards Gujarat. We merit a small vignette (page 201-202) in his book Don't Ask Any Old Bloke for Directions which came out 2 years later and which chronicled his 25,320 kms journey.
P.G.'s parting sentence about us was: "I have never prayed so much in such a short time. They were friends of my missionary sister and she'd wanted me to visit them. I did not regret the visit by I was overwhelmed by the praying."
It is so strange to think about Chering's cousin - a person who to me seemed almost larger-than-life - in the 'past tense.'
We meet so many people on this road of life. And then it ends. How fleeting our time is. How long the shadow of eternity looms.
Caricature Christ
Protests in Mumbai regarding the above image, led to the Times of India apology which appeared in today's front page, saying - " WE ARE SORRY: An illustration resembling The Last Supper, which appeared in the Sunday edition of the paper (Page 18), has hurt the sentiments of a number of our readers. We sincerely apologise for the anguish it has inadvertently caused. This paper is truly respectful of all faiths; it is one of the cornerstones of our editorial philosophy."
As a Jesus-following iconoclast - I have no problems with pictures of pictures. The Holy Scriptures tells me not to have any graven images - so I hold no pictoral representation of my dear Lord close to my heart.
The common "Jesus" picture seems to be drawn mainly from a
self-portrait that the German painter Albrecht Durer made of himself in 1500 when he was 28 years old.Since I owe no allegiance to the plethora of pictures of pale-faced-jesus which people call 'Yishu-foto' here - I cannot really be too outraged.
In fact, the placing of RK Laxman's 'common man' in the place of Christ strikes me as singularly apt. Jesus was after all fully man - and would have looked like anyone of us. We know that he was Not handsome ("He had no beauty or majesty to attract us to him, nothing in his appearance that we should desire him. Isaiah 53.2b). The beauty of Christ - the fact that his first disciples confidently said that he was 'full of grace and truth' came from His character, came from the words that He said and the things He did - and the power of a life that was stronger than death.
The Times picture is probably wrong in putting a bevy of Indian political heavy-weights clustered around this 'common man' as disciples. If anything these dear worthies are un-disciples of Christ as seen by the sad spectacle of most of what passes as leadership from them. For the record - the artist feels these are the 12 most important political leaders in India today: Mayawati, Swaraj, Jaitley, Karat (funny to see him poking his head between the BJP big two), Advani, Gadkari, then the dear 'common man' followed by the Congress trinity of Rahul, Manmohan and Sonia, and then the other trioka of Mukherjee, Banerjee and good old Pawar to round off the lot.
Getting back to Jesus (what a relief) - if we do want to draw an image of him - how about something more along these lines.If anything our Lord, being a praktikas (carpenter/builder/or as we say here in Bharat a 'mistry') would most probably looked far more like those of us who are melanin blessed rather than those poor in melanin (like yours truly for instance).
It is sad that global Christianity continues to be dominated by the European image of our Lord - that vapid bearded Durer-esque form endlessly reproduced in various forms. How I wish that the type could be erased and replaced with a desire to see Jesus through the words of the book - through His amazing life - and all the wonderful things that have been said about him. Even better - that the truth of Jesus would be seen in the lives of all who profess to follow him as Lord.
If we take Jesus at His words, then He is either Lord of all - or not Lord at all. There is no in-between. This is why the very earliest Christian creedal statement - predating even the writing of the first gospel - is these three words: Jesus is Lord. A statement deeply heretical to the understanding of the Jews (who could not see Jesus as fulfilling Messianic Deity) and dangerously seditious to the Romans (for whom Ceasar was Lord).
As for the caricature of a caricature that appeared in the Sunday Times of India ... draw on!
Saturday, 24 July 2010
Our blessed pump
11 years ago yesterday Sheba's Dad suffered a massive heart attack.
Appa was still living in Rourkela then. I remember hearing Sheba telling me about it over the phone. She was in Chhatisgarh at that time - serving at Champa Christian Hospital. I was in Jharkhand, at the Nav Jivan Hospital.
After we got married Sheba told me that that most people live another 5 years after such an attack. By God's grace, not only did Appa pass the 5 year mark, but he passed the 10 year mark as well and has crossed over 11 years too. A massive contributing factor has been how carefully Appa takes medications of all kinds (he is a diabetic too) and how often he monitors his health through regular checkups with his physicians. And he (and all of us) pray too. God answers. We are so glad for these years that we have had together.
Last month Dr. Thomas Koshy gave a public talk on the heart and I saw something that I never thought of before. This amazing organ - which so tirelessly pumps blood all through us - is itself served by such a limited set of blood vessels on the outside of it. Just like the crudest thought of bankers as people who randomnly dip into the millions that pass through their hands whenever they want to - so somehow I had never actually considered where the heart got its own blood supply from. Having never actually thought about it - I guess that I had just assumed that it sort of 'took on' blood as it pumped the fluid of life out to the rest of the body.
Hardly.
Suddenly all the talk about 'clogged arteries' etc. makes sense. Cut off the supply to these few
feeders - and the machine will slowly wind down - just like your computer does when the power suddenly flickers down to a dim-glow-bulb level (often seen in Mussoorie - but occasionally cropping up in my office in Thane these days). Put simply: No red juice - no working ticker. No working pump - no life in the body. Hence the value of making sure that ye olde arteries supplying the heart be without buildups of plaque and other gunk. Hence the concern over cholestrol other mouth-ingested-food-factors which contribute to poor areterial health.
The 'heart attack' takes place when parts of this amazing constantly working muscle is deprived of blood from portions of its coronary artery. Blocked arteries lead to muscle death since it is not getting the oxygen and nutrients it needs. A tiny amount of tissue necrosis may even go unnoticed. But there comes a time when it cannot be ignored. Muscle death can lead to heart failure. A heart that fails means that or body doesn't get the blood it needs. How strange that I spend so little time thinking about this beautiful vessel which makes life possible. How glad I am that my vital functions do not depend on how much I think about them.
Yesterday morning we got a call from Vishakapatnam. Amma said that Appa had not been well the previous night and had been sweating abnormally. Not a good sign at all. People with diabetes apparently often do not have pain in the chest when a heart attack happens. She had Appa taken to hospital in the morning and admitted for tests.
We spent the day praying. Text messages went out to church friends here in Mumbai-land and family members up North. Prayers went up - and out - as others texted the message further.
In the evening we talked to Amma again. Appa was a lot better. It may have been a change in the diabetes medication which caused a lower blood sugar level than normal - and triggered the sweats. Appa was cheerful and had been discharged home in the afternoon. He will be taking an ECG on the morrow to see if there is any heart involvement.
Appa was still living in Rourkela then. I remember hearing Sheba telling me about it over the phone. She was in Chhatisgarh at that time - serving at Champa Christian Hospital. I was in Jharkhand, at the Nav Jivan Hospital.
After we got married Sheba told me that that most people live another 5 years after such an attack. By God's grace, not only did Appa pass the 5 year mark, but he passed the 10 year mark as well and has crossed over 11 years too. A massive contributing factor has been how carefully Appa takes medications of all kinds (he is a diabetic too) and how often he monitors his health through regular checkups with his physicians. And he (and all of us) pray too. God answers. We are so glad for these years that we have had together.
Last month Dr. Thomas Koshy gave a public talk on the heart and I saw something that I never thought of before. This amazing organ - which so tirelessly pumps blood all through us - is itself served by such a limited set of blood vessels on the outside of it. Just like the crudest thought of bankers as people who randomnly dip into the millions that pass through their hands whenever they want to - so somehow I had never actually considered where the heart got its own blood supply from. Having never actually thought about it - I guess that I had just assumed that it sort of 'took on' blood as it pumped the fluid of life out to the rest of the body.
Hardly.
Suddenly all the talk about 'clogged arteries' etc. makes sense. Cut off the supply to these few
feeders - and the machine will slowly wind down - just like your computer does when the power suddenly flickers down to a dim-glow-bulb level (often seen in Mussoorie - but occasionally cropping up in my office in Thane these days). Put simply: No red juice - no working ticker. No working pump - no life in the body. Hence the value of making sure that ye olde arteries supplying the heart be without buildups of plaque and other gunk. Hence the concern over cholestrol other mouth-ingested-food-factors which contribute to poor areterial health.The 'heart attack' takes place when parts of this amazing constantly working muscle is deprived of blood from portions of its coronary artery. Blocked arteries lead to muscle death since it is not getting the oxygen and nutrients it needs. A tiny amount of tissue necrosis may even go unnoticed. But there comes a time when it cannot be ignored. Muscle death can lead to heart failure. A heart that fails means that or body doesn't get the blood it needs. How strange that I spend so little time thinking about this beautiful vessel which makes life possible. How glad I am that my vital functions do not depend on how much I think about them.
Yesterday morning we got a call from Vishakapatnam. Amma said that Appa had not been well the previous night and had been sweating abnormally. Not a good sign at all. People with diabetes apparently often do not have pain in the chest when a heart attack happens. She had Appa taken to hospital in the morning and admitted for tests.
We spent the day praying. Text messages went out to church friends here in Mumbai-land and family members up North. Prayers went up - and out - as others texted the message further.
In the evening we talked to Amma again. Appa was a lot better. It may have been a change in the diabetes medication which caused a lower blood sugar level than normal - and triggered the sweats. Appa was cheerful and had been discharged home in the afternoon. He will be taking an ECG on the morrow to see if there is any heart involvement.
Wednesday, 21 July 2010
Deep Breath
We have to do it sooner or later.
Yesterday we sent an email to the government HIV programme.
In the email we asked the concerned official to activate our Integrated Testing and Counselling Centre. We have been doing HIV testing and counselling at a small scale for about a year and a half now. What we want now is to step up to the plate and be one of the recognised HIV testing and counselling centres - partners with the public health system in our city - and beyond.
In the same email we asked for something bigger.
We asked the government to make us a link ART centre. This means that we at Jeevan Sahara Kendra would be getting the Anti Retroviral Therapy (ART) Medications from the government and would directly supervise their treatment. Currently about 110 of our 150 odd HIV positive friends are getting their treatment free from the government ART centre in Thane. They and 3500 other people. The government is very interested in getting other partners involved in providing this level of service. We assume that our patients would be immediately transferred over to us for their HIV medications (which the vast majority would very much appreciate). We also assume that we would be asked to look after at least 150 more cases.
All of this seems like foolishness at times when we see our own thread-bareness. When we see staff squabble. When we don't see patients come. On rainy days. When we look at our slender staffing resources at this time. Should we even be venturing further when we see so many areas where we need to still put our ship into shape?
One thing is certain. Time waits for no man.
If this is the time for us to move forward into becoming a partner with the government in ART care - then we must strike now.
We do so with prayer and hope that God will take us forward. The image of the priests carrying the ark and stepping into the Jordan river comes to mind.
And the scary thing is that this is not even the biggest step we may be taking - just around the corner is our shift to the current Lok Hospital building - and a Community Care Centre. The near and medium term future holds some amazing challenges.
Carpe Diem!
Thanks for being along with us on this journey!
Monday, 19 July 2010
An auto-rickshaw driver's tale
We were about to head back home. The pastor at whose church we had just conducted an HIV awareness session found out that we would be returned by train and told us that 'Vishwas' would be dropping us off at the station.
Vishwas got his autorickshaw ready - we piled in our boxes - and ourselves - and soon we were off on the short journey to the train station.
The trip was a mere 5 minutes - but long enough for Vishwas to tell us a major part of his life story.
Vishwas had been a 'goonda' - a local tough who was part of the vast underworld that lives on the underside of the shiny (and often grimy) urban exteriors that makes the India of today.
Nine years ago someone had given him 'supari' - a contract - to bump off the pastor at whose church we had shared about God's heart for people with HIV/AIDS. Vishwas had gone to church - in order to know how to kill the pastor.
Instead of Vishwas doing the deed - he found his life changed. He surrendered his life to Christ and after confessing what he had intended to do - has become one of the pastor's closest friends.
Nine years later Vishwas is married. He is driving an auto-rickshaw for a living and has left his 'goonda' days far behind. Vishwas even moved his home so that he can be closer to the church in order to help out in the work of the church more often. Taking guests in his auto-rickshaw is one of the many small ways that he does this.
It isn't often that we (knowingly at least) talk to a hit-man (ex- or not). I have been pondering Vishwas' life-change - and keep coming back to the gut issue - a (would-be) murderer who becomes the friend of his (would-be) victim. What a powerful hope there is for all of us to change. What a wonderful door the Lord Jesus opened up for gut-kickers like me. Amazing grace - how sweet the sound...
Vishwas got his autorickshaw ready - we piled in our boxes - and ourselves - and soon we were off on the short journey to the train station.
The trip was a mere 5 minutes - but long enough for Vishwas to tell us a major part of his life story.Vishwas had been a 'goonda' - a local tough who was part of the vast underworld that lives on the underside of the shiny (and often grimy) urban exteriors that makes the India of today.
Nine years ago someone had given him 'supari' - a contract - to bump off the pastor at whose church we had shared about God's heart for people with HIV/AIDS. Vishwas had gone to church - in order to know how to kill the pastor.
Instead of Vishwas doing the deed - he found his life changed. He surrendered his life to Christ and after confessing what he had intended to do - has become one of the pastor's closest friends.
Nine years later Vishwas is married. He is driving an auto-rickshaw for a living and has left his 'goonda' days far behind. Vishwas even moved his home so that he can be closer to the church in order to help out in the work of the church more often. Taking guests in his auto-rickshaw is one of the many small ways that he does this.
It isn't often that we (knowingly at least) talk to a hit-man (ex- or not). I have been pondering Vishwas' life-change - and keep coming back to the gut issue - a (would-be) murderer who becomes the friend of his (would-be) victim. What a powerful hope there is for all of us to change. What a wonderful door the Lord Jesus opened up for gut-kickers like me. Amazing grace - how sweet the sound...
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