Wednesday 30 November 2011

An Oasis of Hope

29th November 

An oasis of hope

Port au Prince is an extraordinary city to navigate. I don't think there can be a single decent road, much of it is on a steep mountainside and what passes for main roads are joined together by rubble-strewn, dirt tracks. Cars, trucks and taxis compete for the best path through the potholes and every journey takes literally hours longer than seems possible. Cheers go up when the driver is able to shift into second gear. 

Travelling today we saw more buildings devastated by the earthquake; a concrete spiral staircase lying prone as a lasting memory of the power of the earth on that day. Yet on the opposite side of the street stood a solid, well presented building which raises the question what makes the difference?  - Was it the power of the earth or the lack of political power to enforce building regulations that caused the disaster?'. Comparisons are made between this earthquake and that which hit Chilli more recently. Chilli had a far worse earthquake and lost about 200 lives. Haiti lost 230,000. 

Such a huge number of people. Everyone was touched by it. Talking to Ricot, the communications manager for Compassion in Haiti, we discovered that his brother died during the quake but that after a few days he had realised that there wasn't time for personal grief, this was bigger than a family bereavement and that everyone needed to step up and serve the devastated community. He said 'we just had to find those who were alive, pick up the children, tend to the sick'. It took him a year to account for all the sponsored children in Haiti but he did.

I have been deeply touched by these men who work for Compassion, they are not just employees, or officials who distribute the aid. They are fantastic men and women with a passion for serving the communities. They are deeply loved and respected by the children and staff in the partner projects and their energy and enthusiasm for what they do is contagious. 

We visited a project today which serves and protects over 500 kids. Amazing. We saw the child survival programme which targets the early years. World wide 26,000 children die a day preventable diseases. That's 26,000 preventable deaths. The Child Survival Programme looks to support mothers through pregnancy and birth and then to provide immunisations, health checks and parental education . 

On the wall is a list of 50 names with a photo beside, these children are individuals not just numbers, and their weights and vaccinations are recorded alongside. On the floor mums sit on a carpet with their babies and toddlers playing with the toys. It's such a normal picture - just a mums and toddlers group. And yet it's not so normal as we see when we visit the home of Gina - one of the Mums.

Gina lives just a stones throw away from the church in a tent like the ones I saw yesterday only this one is erected on a steep slope and looks like it wouldn't take much persuasion to slide down to the bottom. It's as hot inside as I had imagined and there is no space - my girls have a bigger Wendy house. I can't begin to imagine how you can live there, raise a baby and a child there. Gina says her child is often sick because of the heat. 

Gina is lovely, she has made the most of her sackcloth tent- hung lacy curtains to separate the bed from her room, created an awning to have somewhere to cook. She is being a mum, making a home with what she has, providing for her family, but the Child Survival Programme makes all the difference. I can only imagine the relief of going to the cool shade of the barn like church and sitting on a proper carpet and letting your children play with brightly coloured toys. It's an oasis of calm and peace in a desert of squalor. It's hope in a building. Hope in a family. Hope in a child. 

Hope even in the face of news that Gina and her family are to be evicted from their home of two years - the land owner wants to rebuild and they are in the way. Such devastating news in a situation which had seemed like it couldn't get any worse.

 Gina is like me. A mum who wants above all to take care of her kids. There have been times when I haven't been able to do it alone and I've needed some help from people who love me. Gina needs people who love her more than I ever have, but in her church, through the support of the programmes, she has that love and support. Its compassion in action. 

Tuesday 29 November 2011

Trouble in Paradise

28th November

Trouble in paradise

Haiti is everything I expected and more. Flying in this morning I was sat about as far from the window as it was possible to do and I was straining my neck to get a glimpse. We flew in from the east over the stunning bay de la Gonave, and at first sight this is a tropical paradise. Crystal blue waters, gentle surf on White beaches edging the grand curve of Haiti's two peninsulas, all set against the backdrop of mountains which rise into the clouds. It's stunning. 

As you get closer the detail starts to stand out; a port, buildings, corrugated iron roofs, a town of tents. White swathes in the mountains where there have been rockfalls, more tents but not real tents, make shift ones made out of material that looks like giant modern sacking strung over wooden poles. Paradise is dirty. Noisy too and hot. 

The airport was like no other I have ever been through; from even before customs the noise is at full volume- musicians, officials and people wanting to carry your bags, I was exceedingly glad to be part of a group, to follow someone else's lead. It's intense - I'm used to being pestered for tips and being offered help I don't want but this is on a whole new level. One guy wants to find my bag off the carousel even though he can have no idea what it looks like. It's carnage; bags are piling up everywhere - mine appear to be with a pile of other people's things and I have to wade in to retrieve it and everywhere there are people trying to take my bags off me.  They're  not trying to steal them, just help me so I can pay them. One guy insists on pushing the trolley with Andy, the camera man, and we cant work out how to tell him we don't need him. He's determined to earn some money. 

In the chaos of all this it would be easy to lose someone and there's almost a temptation to bark at everyone to back off and leave us alone, but it doesn't seem right, these men are the lucky ones; the ones with the official name badges that grant them the right to hassle me for my bags, the right to a tip, the right to earn some money to take home to the family. So it's good to meet Edner and Ricot our Compassion staff and tour guides and get ourselves safely on a bus and let them take over the bartering. 

Driving to our hotel is amazing and part of me starts to really buzz with the sights and sounds that assail us from every side. The traffic is horrendous, the roads terrible and everywhere there are brightly coloured taxis overladen with people, honking their horns and trying to push their way through the mayhem.  Lots of the taxis have the words 'merci Jesus' written above their windscreen. I wonder if this is brand name or a permanent attitude of thanks that they are still in one piece. 

The streets are lined with people trying to sell sugar cane or papaya, clothes and car chargers for iPhones. It reminds me so much of the back streets of Mombassa, the chaos, the potholes, the glorious colours, the iffy smells. 

As we push our way along the road and navigate around piles of rubble, I peek into buildings and see dirt floors, look up side roads filled with rubbish and look at buildings in disrepair. There are more and more tent villages. Villages is a misleading word. Tent slums would be nearer the mark. From my air-conditioned bus I wonder how high the temperature rises in the middle of the day under canvas - it must become unbearable. 

But in the midst of this there are kids in smart school uniforms holding hands and walking with purpose. There are people generating business out of the things that they can provide. You could call them hawkers but you could also call them entrepreneurs. Abbey asks Ricot why the are so many people on the street - where are they going? He explains that they aren't going anywhere, just looking for an opportunity, food, a job, someone to meet. And even here I see hope. 

Because, although this is a life I cant imagine, although there is poverty in every direction, there is not despair. Instead there is hope, there is purpose. These people have not given up - they are still searching, they're not resigned to their fate, believing it can't change. In fact I saw a slogan written bold on a building which said 'every situation can change' . I loved that. That's hope on a wall for everyone to see.

Monday 28 November 2011

Expectations . .

27th November

I'm not quite sure what I'm doing here. I've not been abducted and I have a handbook to tell me what to do but my stomach is a little ball of nerves- a mix of apprehension, insecurity and just the unknown. It's a familiar feeling - I have a habit of throwing myself headlong into situations  with my ever present 'yes!' mentality only to spend the next few weeks or months second guessing myself.

As the plane takes off, i'm thinking about my kids, my husband. Wondering what they are doing without me, wondering if they miss me. This is the part of growing up that is annoying. When I was young, travel was adventure without looking back, now it's opportunity with sacrifice; that pervading fear that my plane will crash and the girls will have to finally learn to plait their own hair- the determination I have to get home to kiss them all good night again.  It's  not just me anymore- I have responsibilities, people to provide for, people to love. So I'm worried about what I have left behind.

And I'm wondering about what I am going to. What will I see? How will I react? what am I going to do? I'm sifting through the places Ive already been and mentally comparing it: I've seen poverty before in Kenya, but I've not got immersed in it. I've driven through slums but not talked to the people living there, not stopped in to visit. I was always a bit removed, a bit distant. I think this is going to be different - more up close and personal.

I've visited orphanages in Bulgaria that broke my heart: I wanted to pack the children up and take them home with me. I remember stifling sobs at the bedside of a girl so sick she couldn't get up and was in constant pain, stifling them because my tears felt selfish and she didn't need to see them, they couldn't help her. I remember the frustration of being in a place which was so broken and where hope seemed like a pipe dream.

I think this trip will be different. This trip is all about hope, its about no ceiling to hope, it's about projects where the brokenness is being addressed, the pain is being healed, the situation is not being accepted and there is a new day coming.  I'm excited about that and really quite honoured to be witnessing it, to feel part of it.

I think I may get sad, I suspect I will want to take children home with me and that I will see things and meet people who will stay with me long  after I have left, but I plan to hold on to that hope with no ceiling, that hope that says I will not accept that this situation can't be changed and I have the faith to believe that as a church we can see that achieved.

I'll let you know how I get on.

Tuesday 22 November 2011

A bit inappropriate?

Liberti editor Rebekah Legg is travelling to Haiti on behalf of Spring Harvest this Sunday to visit various church projects sponsored by Compassion. Bekah be keeping us up to date with her trip here:

I got my travel pack in the post today; all the instructions I need for my trip to Haiti. I was so excited I could have squealed.
But then I wasn't sure if I should be excited. After all I’m travelling to a disaster zone, a place that had been decimated by dictators and weather systems, poverty and sickness long before the biggest earthquake in two centuries hit. Is it right to be excited, or does that make me wrong? A bit inappropriate? How are you meant to feel about flying into poverty, meeting people who are struggling to get through each day, kids whose major achievement to date is survival?
But I am excited: excited that I have the privilege of visiting projects that are changing lives; saving lives. Excited about seeing the church in motion, the church living up to its name, being light in the darkness and a force for good in a land that is broken.
I sat down with a mug of tea to read my pack; learned a few little bits of Creole; it’s a bit like French, I think I can pull it off. I learned how to make sure I don’t commit any social faux pas and I checked out what to wear. My excitement left me in a rush: I have nothing to wear. It feels ridiculous that I should say such a thing, but it’s actually true.
I had anticipated a bit of decency being necessary and was, I thought, ahead of the game. It’s going to be hot, but I know my little summer dresses would probably be considered scandalous so I’d borrowed some cropped trousers from my mum as my two pairs are either white (asking for trouble) or falling apart (you can see my underwear- definitely scandalous).  So I thought, Mum to the rescue, a few borrowed pairs of decent trousers would do trick.
But now, the travel guide says trousers are a no-no for women as are shorts, I have to wear long skirts and hide my cleavage. I may have to cut holes in my duvet cover and wear that as a shroud as a close inspection of my wardrobe reveals a large lack of long skirts and an abundance of now embarrassingly low cut tops. My entire wardrobe is inappropriate. I am have a clothing crisis the like of which I have not experienced since a last minute invitation to a posh function caught me a stone heavier than my one smart frock allowed. All in all I went into a spin and headed for the internet to see if I could find something decent to wear – in every sense of that word.
And then I stopped; because if anything seems inappropriate in this situation it’s spending money on clothes. I’m flying to a country where 54% of people live on less than a dollar a day. Having lived in Kenya I can picture the markets where they find their clothes. We used to call them bend over boutiques – huge piles of clothes discarded by the West but treasured in the developing world – a business for some and a provision for those who otherwise really would have nothing to wear.
It’s made me think about how I use the money God has granted me. It’s made me think about the call God has on my life and I’ve remembered that for me that’s not to be a fashion emissary to the developing world (or anywhere for that matter as my daughters would tell you).
I’ve decided this isn’t an excuse to expand my wardrobe with inappropriately expensive and unnecessary items; I’ve rung around my mates and borrowed some bits and dug out some old things I’d forgotten I had. I’ve some odd combinations, but I don’t think my hosts will care and the important thing is that they know how honoured and delighted I am to meet them. That's appropriate, that's exciting; I can’t wait.

Tuesday 15 November 2011

You, me and debris

Photo credit: Michelle Arseneault/Wikipedia

When I’m not writing for Liberti magazine, I spend a lot of my time mustering up financial news and blogs. I often find myself compiling helpful money-saving guides; well, at least, I hope they’re helpful.

Although these often relate to switching bank accounts or getting the right type of life insurance, a common theme throughout is cutting back on waste. There are so many ways to squander money and resources, and even though I should know better, I’m probably the worst culprit of all!

So here are my three Cs to help us keep on top of our waste, both financial and otherwise (in ascending order of importance).

Cancel old Direct Debits
Statistics show 40% of Direct Debit customers don't know how much cash leaves their account via Direct Debit each month. Many of us have experienced that painful pang when we realise a payment we should have cancelled months ago is still coming out. With online banking available to all of us, it’s our responsibility to know exactly what’s coming into and leaving our accounts. Staying on top of this will also help to ensure your account isn’t being used fraudulently.

Cut energy costs
UK households throw £1.4 billion down the drain each year simply by wasting energy. There are so many ways to cut back on energy usage without even noticing the difference. Did you know that using energy-saving light bulbs could save you up to £40 during the life of the bulb? And that turning your thermostat down by just 1% could save you 10% on your annual heating bill?

Other simple energy-saving measures include:
  • Turning electrical appliances off rather than leaving them on standby
  • Confining heating to the rooms you spend most time in
  • Only boiling as much water as you need each time you make a hot drink
  • Taking showers rather than baths
  • Turning the temperature on your washing machine down to 30oC
Control your buying habits
I personally feel a sense of achievement every time I put something in the recycling; particularly if I’ve gone to the trouble of rinsing or dismembering it in some way. Don’t panic, I’m not going to tell you to stop recycling or reusing items, but I am going to suggest an even better solution: not buying as much in the first place.

I was brought up to clean my plate each and every mealtime; my brother and I were well aware that there would be no pudding until we’d finished our dinner. Although I still do this as much as possible now, I continue to find myself throwing some food away every week. When will I learn that I’m not going to get through a kilo of grapes in a week? Why do I still fall for the multi-buy offers when I know it’s both false economy and wasteful?

And my wastefulness isn’t limited to food consumption. Each time I move house I promise myself I’ll never, ever accumulate so much ‘stuff’ again. But after two years in my current flat I once again find myself climbing over or banging into obstacles and items I simply don’t need: a foot spa, redundant mobile phone chargers and a host of old CDs I’ve never even listened to.

Every now and again I round up all the rubble and have a major cull. There’s no better feeling in the world than turning overflowing cupboards and full-to-the-brim drawers into minimalist vessels of essential goodies. Again I feel that warm fuzzy feeling as I traipse off to the charity shop to kindly bestow my discarded debris upon them.

But as with our financial affairs, the simplest and best approach is to only buy what we need in the first place. Don’t take out credit cards that will encourage you to get into debt and buy even more space hoggers. Don’t buy new versions of items you already have unless you are prepared to redeploy the originals. And definitely don’t buy presents for people this Christmas that will encourage them to follow you into the never-ending wilderness of waste!

Read more from Joy in the upcoming issue of Liberti magazine.

Saturday 12 November 2011

Mirror image


Photo credit: MabMeddowsMercury

I’ve been thinking about mirrors a lot lately. That probably sounds pretty vain, but there are several reasons why the looking glass has become a recurring theme for me in recent weeks.

I can’t deny the fact that I’ve been spending some time standing in front of every mirror in my flat recently. Am I that good looking? I hear you ask. Well, no. The fact is, I just can’t stop checking out the ever-expanding abscess in my throat. It probably sounds a bit sinister, but I have to keep looking at it so I can figure out how this red lump of puss inside my mouth has completely taken over my life.

You think I’m exaggerating, but I can’t eat, sleep, talk, drink or swallow. At one point I stopped breathing and had to go to A&E. But although it’s excruciating and hideous-looking, I’m utterly fascinated by it. Maybe deep down I think that if I look at it long enough I’ll suss out how to regain the upper hand.

Mirrors cropped up again when I read a BBC news story about a new piece of technology that promises to revolutionise the way we shop. Basically, it’s a virtual mirror that takes a picture of you and then allows you to virtually ‘try on’ dozens of outfits in a matter of minutes.

No more taking 17 items into the changing room to find you can only try three at a time. No more pulling clothes on and off hangers and working up more of a sweat than you would on the treadmill! You’ll be able to try stuff you’d never normally consider and you can even send the images to your friends to get their feedback.

Having said this, the technology probably won’t become mainstream for some time, and it could end up breaking the bank with so many combinations at our fingertips. Most importantly, it’s bound to attract cubicles full of teenage girls sending pictures of themselves to everyone they know.

The next mirror element sprang to mind during the trial of Conrad Murray, Michael Jackson’s now infamous doctor. Although I didn’t really follow the case, I couldn’t avoid the influx of jokes about how “bad” Murray was, and what a “smooth criminal” he had been.

With mirrors already on my mind, I started reflecting (excuse the pun) on one of my favourite Jackson songs; no prizes for guessing which one. I realised I’d sung along to it hundreds of times without really thinking about the significance of the words.

I'm starting with the man in
the mirror,
I'm asking him to change
his ways.
And no message could have
been any clearer:
If you wanna make the world
a better place,
Take a look at yourself, and
then make a change.

Whatever you think about the king of pop himself, these are powerful words. It seems Michael spent his life struggling with ‘mirror fever’, consumed by self-image, narcissism and self-hatred.

I’ve stood in front of the mirror countless times and hated my reflection. But I’ve also been pleasantly surprised at by the way I looked on some occasions. I don’t like to admit it, but the way I look has a profound effect on my mood in the same way that my mood has the power to change the way I see myself.

“Man in the Mirror” asks us to examine not only our external blemishes, but our internal ones; to correct our own behaviours before setting the world to rights. This reminded me of a well-known Bible quotation:

“How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye’, when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye” (Matthew 7:4-5). I think this is the same point Jacko was making.

Then a Bible verse specifically about mirrors sprang to mind: “Anyone who listens to the Word but does not do what it says is like someone who looks at his face in a mirror and, after looking at himself, goes away and immediately forgets what he looks like” (James 1:23-24).

This is a call for us to act on what we read in the Bible rather than just sticking it back on the shelf. If you look in the mirror and feel confident about your appearance, but immediately forget what you saw when you leave the house, you’ll lose that confidence and look for it in other places. The Bible makes so much sense!

Anyway, you’re probably fed up with mirror analogies by now, so I’m off to check out my angry abscess once again. And maybe while I’m standing in front of the glass, I’ll be asking Him to change my ways. 

Read more from Joy in the upcoming edition of Liberti magazine.

Friday 4 November 2011

Do I have to go to church?


I remember having days as a kid when the thought of going to church was more than I could bear. My mum had very fixed ideas about what was expected of us on Sundays.

I always had to wear a flouncy dress and my older brother was forced to wear his smartest clobber (well at least, he was until his best trousers were worn out from skimming along the shiny floors on his knees).

While other parents brought colouring books and toys for their children to play with, we were expected to sit quietly until Sunday School was announced, whenever we weren’t being called on to sing, stand or help out in some way.

My brother and I responded differently to this strict regime. He decided, aged 13 or so, that he had done his time and would not be going back to church. No amount of ordering, pleading or bribery would change his mind. He still only ever crosses the threshold for weddings, and even then it is with great reluctance.

I, on the other hand, decided to embrace church life wholeheartedly. I landed the lead in most of the church plays (I had a big mouth even then) and was eager to participate at Sunday school. I made some great friends, who I still adore, and spent a great deal of time in youth meetings, at Christian camps and just hanging around the church between services.

This didn’t make me any better than my brother. Although I had committed my life to God, the level of commitment fluctuated considerably. On Sunday I could be praising my creator with all my heart, hands lifted and in full voice, but by Monday I could be smoking and swearing heartily with my school friends.

I did eventually realise that this wasn’t sustainable and, while I’ve moved churches several times since (for geographical reasons), my faith is now firmly rooted. I still make lots of mistakes, of course, but I no longer live a double life.

Sadly, a lot of the friends I made in those early days of church no longer have any time for ‘religion’. Several have wandered away and become embroiled in some pretty sticky situations.

So what can we do to keep the younger generation on the right path? We know that nagging doesn’t work, so what is the answer? Are we right to intervene if our children decide they no longer want to ‘do church’?

I’d answer the last question with an emphatic yes, and I’m pretty sure Care for the Family would agree. The organisation has launched a national tour designed to address (and counter), the issues that prompt children and teenagers to leave church behind.

This tour forms part of the “Getting Your Kids Through Church Without Them Ending Up Hating God” initiative Care for the Family launched at Spring Harvest 2011. The organisation has teamed up with several others including Youth for Christ, Scripture Union, Spring Harvest and Urban Saints to put an end to this sad trend. 

Visiting six venues across the UK in November, the tour will encourage parents, church leaders and youth workers to explore practical ways to save a generation of young people from feeling ostracised by the church.

The main speaker at these events will be Rob Parsons, the charity’s founder. He will reflect on the concept of the ‘perfect Christian child mould’ and will outline what he describes as the ‘Big Five killers of young faith’. Christian band Phatfish and the Saltmine Theatre Company will also take to the stage.

Tickets cost between £9 and £14 and are available for the following venues:

The Sage, Gateshead, on November 1 
The Clyde Auditorium, Glasgow, on November 2
The Waterfront Hall, Belfast, on November 3

The Corn Exchange, Cambridge, on November 22
The Hexagon, Reading, on November 23
The Colston Hall, Bristol, on November 24

Visit www.gyktc.org.uk to find out more and read more from Joy in the upcoming issue of Liberti.