Who is my neighbour?

Today I went to visit my other neighbours. About 500m down the road from my house is a Shan slum. It had a rickety wooden fence around it and the houses are made out of corrugated iron. The children are riding their bikes and playing on the dusty earth. I've assumed it's Shan before even though I've never been into it, because most of these kind of slums are filled with Shan people who have escaped from the oppressive military regime in Burma and work for around $3-$6 a day as construction workers in Thailand. As a result of their work, they often move around from construction site to site, and so they just bring their families and build these slums near their work. However, this one has been there for at least two years now and one guy we spoke to today said that they would stay there. So it's become a way of life.
I see the workers out every morning waiting in blue trousers and shirts by the side of the road. They are waiting to be collected for their jobs, and it's common here to see twelve or more crammed into the back of a ute on the road. I have never actually spoken to them in the one and a half years that I've lived here, perhaps because it's easier to ignore the poverty when you don't have an answer for it. I saw this very clearly a few years ago in Jakarta, Indonesia when I went to document evangelism in desperate slums that were right next to luxury malls. I heard Indonesian Christians who had lived and gone to church right beside these slums for all their lives say, 'We never knew this poverty existed' after they had prayer walked with us through the slum. After that experience, I still occasionally wonder, 'Where are the poor around me? Is there a blind spot in my 'garden'? (The garden is my euphemism for the area that God has assigned for me to take care of - I can't save the whole world, but I can tend my own backyard). Essentially, I'm the guy in Luke 10 asking 'Who is my neighbour?' and I never want to hear back from God 'It's the one you left by the wayside.'
So I spoke with Lydia about it a couple of weeks ago. Lyds is working with the 'Meeting Point' which is a YWAM ministry for Shan people in Chiangmai. Her assignment with them was to go and survey the different Shan slums around Chiangmai so that the ministry could plan their work. So she offered to come with me to visit the slum down the road from me. Also, the main actor from our Shan film, Sai Sai, moved to Chiangmai a week ago and we asked him to come along too. That was a very good move as Sai Sai is so affable that he opens doors everywhere.
Today the three of us walked down from my house carrying plastic bags filled with women's clothing to give away. My plastic bag was filled with clothes left behind from friends who had moved away and couldn't fit everything into their luggage limit. I wasn't really sure what they would make of the farang styles. We walked in through the opening in the wooden fence and saw a few children, but only one guy around. We said 'My song kha' which is hello in Shan and then that pretty much exhausted all the Shan language I know so Sai Sai went on to ask the survey questions. The guy told us that the head guy was not at home but pointed us to other people that lived one row further into the slum. We passed a woman bathing her baby in a plastic bucket and stepped into a skinny alley between the shacks.

Sai Sai stood in an open doorway and chatted away merrily explaining what we were doing. Lyds practiced her Shan that she's been learning with a young guy in the alley. I hid behind them both after answering the usual question about exactly what was I racially (they always guess Korean), and peeped into the one room houses. Cardboard was piled in the gaps between the roof and wall, probably to block the wind. I'm sure everyone could hear everything though. They slept on the floor, but did have electricity. It would be cold at nights, since they only had one layer of iron around them, and I know that I've been chilled sleeping within my cement walls.
I think that's why the lady who took our bag of clothes asked immediately if they were winter jackets. Unfortunately I know that it was mainly light summer clothing in my bag. I don't even have a winter jacket for myself here (my mother made me give my warmest jacket to her at Christmas as she's going to Antartica). I may try to get some jackets though and go back with them.
Sai Sai felt like it would be good for us to build trust and recognition by wandering around the slum for a bit so we walked around and kept talking to people. One middle-aged man was in his blue overalls speckled with paint, obviously his profession. Lydia asked Sai Sai to ask him if he was married. Sai Sai seemed a little bit reluctant, but in the end he did ask it. There was this awkward moment and then he sort of giggled nervously and shook his hands. Sai Sai had to quickly explain that Lydia was only asking because of her work with children, but the man still scurried quickly back into his room. Perhaps he thought he had better escape before the farang proposed to him.
There were over twenty families in that slum. When we reached the end of it there was an open space of dirt between piles of scrap material where kids were playing. One lady had told us that the kids didn't really go anywhere in their free time because it would cost money to take them out on excursions so they just played there in the slum. She suggested that if we were to start a children's program the weekend might be a good time as the kids had nothing else to do. I was surprised to see the towering over the kids' playlot the back of buildings (like the pink one) that I recognised on my street and realised that the slum extended much closer to my house that I had originally thought. We really were neighbours.
Today, the phrase 'Good Samaritan' is in common use and is a positive expression, but I think back in the day in which the parable was told, it would have sounded like an oxymoron to Jesus' listeners. But Jesus used that most ordinary of people, a Samaritan, to express the concept of being a true neighbour - the one who has mercy on them.

The Shan Outreach Centre has a website at http://www.shanoc.com/en/home.html

The Cue Meet

Usually I write this blog simply to vent or process for myself, but tonight I met Ericka who linked to it from Mark, who linked to it from who knows where, so it's encouraged me to write more knowing that people actually read it and in hopes of giving the larger world a honest insight into what missions is like.
One of the perks of missionary life is meeting great people and having deep friendships that spring out of like-mindedness and struggling together.
I was reminded tonight of one the more memorable first conversations I ever had with a friend and thought I would just share it.
I had been dragged to an annual ladies conference here in town. Usually I avoid them because I feel like ladies conferences always have themes like 'how to raise Godly children' which is not applicable to my foreseeable future, or 'modern knitting patterns' (also not in future). On top of that, every time I get encouraged as a 'nurturer' I just feel like growing plants in a hot-house. But my flatmate Bethany lured me into this conference with promises of 'quality time' and probably also something about her birthday.
In a tea break amongst all the Christian matrons and maids, I sat down with a cuppa next to a girl called Candace. I'm sure we probably swapped names, and then for some reason I can not remember, I began to tell her about this dream I had recently. So this is probably how it sounded:
"I was down at the beach with my sister when all of a sudden, planes began flying low overhead and we all looked up. Then with a shock I realised that the planes were actually aliens disguised as machinery so that they could come close enough to take over our world. One landed nearby and began to swallow me, but I realised that if I was digested they would eat my sister next so I fought back and ended up tearing my way out. I was then able to fight and protect my little sister because the alien bite had turned me into a super strong zombie with no feelings so my sister was saved. Then we travelled to one of the last hide-outs of mankind. It was like a football stadium. The humans embraced my sister but then sent me down to the cellar under the bleachers because I was a zombie and that's where the other zombies were. The cellar smelt because the other zombies were in a further stage of decomposition. I came back up to the light to tell them that I didn't feel like a zombie because I was still a pretty fresh one and I was scared of the other zombies. The humans didn't care and send me back under the bleachers. The other zombies shuffled out of the darkness with only one arm or half a face and surrounded me. I was completely disgusted but began a rousing speech about how we were the last hope of mankind because we were the only ones strong enough to defeat the aliens. The zombies were in a state of self-indulgent apathy, but finally I convinced them to get out and fight.
So all of us went to a mega-church in the area. The aliens had been waiting until church was finished and then eating people as they came out of church. And they ate everybody, whole services so other people never knew and new people kept turning up Sunday after sunday and being eaten. We attended a full service and then immediately after the benediction I grabbed the microphone before people could be dismissed. I said, 'There's aliens coming soon, so who here has a gun on them?' and several people put up their hands (this is how I know the dream was set in America). I ordered them to shut and man the doors. Then I arranged for all the women and children to come down to the front stage, the most protected area. Finally, I placed the zombies in front of the left door and said, 'Everyone get ready because I guarantee you, the next person through that door will be an alien.' We all tensed, set to blast them away. But the next people to come through looked like a young family, mother pushing a pram with a little girl alongside, and the dad behind. People in the congregation began whispering and doubting me. I hesitated in giving the order to fire. But then I looked into the little girls eyes and realised that they were glowing an unnatural shade of green. The aliens had learnt how to disguise themselves as people. I also realised that I had let them get too close and had to decide between giving the order to fire on them and have people accuse me of manslaughter later, or provoke the little girl into attacking me, which wouldn't hurt since I was a zombie, but I didn't want to get mangled any further since I didn't heal. While trying to decide, I woke up."
Candace looked at me for a second and then said, "So what you're basically saying, is that you were an alien turd then?"
I thought about it and said, "Well, yes I guess I was." Then we both burst out laughing so hard it took minutes to calm down. Bethany came over to try work out what we were laughing about but in between the ramblings about being alien turds and zombies while still laughing, I don't think she fully understood us.
And out of that a great friendship was born.

Chiangrai Motorbiking visit

Fending off a slight cold, I got on my motorcycle pretty soon after returning to Thailand because I received a text message at 3am saying "COME the baby is here." It was sent by Jeow, my Thai - Karen friend who had basically been camping on my couch in March last year. Then I had gone to India for a month and when I came back, I found that she was married and in the countryside of Chiangrai. Surprise! So now the baby had also been born prematurely by a month, another surprise!

Tara is pretty healthy, fat and sleeps a lot as you can see. Jeow tells me her name means river and she didn't know it sounded like an English name too. Two birds with one stone I reckon.

On the way back I stopped at the Charin Resort, a mecca for pies which I've been trying to find for a while now, but kept missing it before. Thanks to the careful instructions of Lydia, I found it, ate a banana cream pie and bought two more to bring back for others. Then I had to figure out how to strap them to my bike without squashing them. I also was parked next to a beautiful custom built chopper hybrid and felt pretty dodgy on my obviously unwashed motorcycle with the handgrip being held on by tissue paper because it kept sliding off.

I did get caught riding in the mountains at night because it took me so long to strap those pies down, but the sunset was worth it on the way.

Re-entry thoughts

Just a few things that jolted me when I returned to Sydney, Australia for a month after over two years in Thailand.

• Traffic laws are so strictly enforced! Big brother is everywhere on the roads.
• Everyone has an iphone.
• All the motorbikes are so big.
• There's so many cultures mixing it up.
• People look kind of depressed on the trains (they're probably going to work) and no one is eating.

The Luxury of Celibacy

Not long ago, my back ached, my side was sore (from being pummelled by a kickboxer – but that's another story) and basically, I needed a massage. However, it was getting late and the reputable massage parlour I frequented was closed. Outside the next parlour a lady sat, calling “Maaaaaaaaasaaaaaaaaaaaaage” to all passersby. Just her strident voice was off-putting, but it was open still and I was desperate.

As I walked up she was pre-occupied flirting with a Western man ('farang') and signalled a smaller, older lady to tend to me. I changed into the classic thai fisherman pants and lay down on a mat. Weirdly, the older farang guy came and lay down on the mat next to me. He was from Holland and initially thought that I worked at the massage parlour (later I realised he probably had wanted to hire me). After answering his continued questions in a non-encouraging way, I revealed that I was a missionary in Chiangmai, at which his eyebrows shot up and he said in heavily accented english “Wow, that is a surprise!” The conversation petered out as I began talking with my masseur in Thai and he walked away muttering “I don't understand”.

My masseur was from Isaan province, which is one of the poorest in Thailand. She was tiny, and dressed in a singlet and daisy dukes which made her look younger, but she was over 50 and had a daughter my age. She had worked in a reggae bar in town (the same reggae bar where I was kickboxed incidentally) for two years, but got sick of being on her feet all the time so had signed up for a two week massage course and now here she was massaging me (which didn't really inspire confidence). She wanted to get out of the massage shop and work for the hospital. Her son had finished studying but hadn't found a job while her daughter had a Norwegian boyfriend and lived 3 months at a time there. Lot of life information exchanged over massage.

Meanwhile, a fairly good-looking, somewhat drunk 20-something English boy had come into the massage shop and he was being massaged behind a screen by a 23 year old Thai girl. When he was done, he kept saying “She's beautiful, she deserves better than this” and asking “How much to just cuddle with her for the night? I don't want to have sex with her, she's beautiful, I just want to cuddle!”
Immediately the sharp voiced masseur at the door said, “3000, 4000 baht!”
“You don't understand, I don't want to have sex, I just want to lie here and cuddle. How much to just stay here the night.”
“You stay here all night can not, this is a shop. You have sex with her here 1 hour – 1000 baht. Or you take her with you all night 4000 baht.”

On and on it went with the boy protesting innocence (he also borrowed money off the Dutch guy) and finally leading the girl away 4000 baht poorer. I wanted to really believe that they were going to 'just cuddle' all night. It was a nicer thought than realising that I had just seen someone sold for only $130 for a night. Apparently all massage shops offered sex on the side. My masseur was telling me she was too old to go with 'guests' like that anymore so she just did thai and oil massages. I was so tense from watching all this that I'm not sure her pushing and pulling had any effect on my muscles. Then it got even weirder.

The lady with the nasal voice began asking the Dutch man, “You are a man, you know man-feeling. Why is it that man don't like me? I always talk with them, she never talk, only sleep. Man talk with me, but then when they come in she wake up and they say 'I want her.' Only talk with me, man don't want me. What is wrong with my body, my face?” It seems like body image and low self esteem issues were common to all women – teenage virgins or hardened prostitutes.

The Dutch man was trying to tell her that she needed to “be a little more sexy, put on a show a little.” To demonstrate how to put on a show he did a headstand in front of a very startled passerby. The masseur was sitting on the steps wrapped in a black shawl and he began teasing her about being “like a muslim” and pulling the shawl over her head. “Show a little more cleavage,” he said.
“But I am shy, I like to cover up.”
“That won't attract men.”
I was just passing them leave the shop and from her perch on the steps she looked me full in the eyes and asked “Why is it 10 men talk with me, but only 2-3 want to do something with me, 8 with her? Sometimes I try to do happy ending, but the man stop and say they can not with me. They say I am nice girl. I talk with them. What is wrong with me?”
What a question! So I sat down and tried to come up with something in Thai.
“Pi, you are beautiful too but I think it has something to do with spirit inside the heart.” My thai was very faltering at the part about spirit because I haven't really learnt abstract religious words like that, so I'm really not sure she understood. She did catch the part about heart though, “Yes, it hurt my heart when they not go with me, I feel bad.”
There is one word that catches this whole feeling in thai and so I said it “Noi jai, right?”
Noi jai literally means little heart – or to be made to feel small and worthless.
She was so eager in agreement, “Yes, yes, noi jai a lot! Everyday pain...”
“Then why don't you leave and find other work?”
“I can earn much money here, I have two daughters to take care of and my boyfriend is dead. Elsewhere I earn 6,500 in one month, here I can make 8,000 baht in 10 days. But I have been working here same time as other girl, one month only and she make so much more money.”
The Dutch man put in his two cents, “You need to touch the customers more, don't be afraid of them, the others are here.”
“Yes, yes she never talk but always touch client, I never touch only talk. Thankyou, I see now, I need to touch more.” Her face showed enlightenment and while I was in total disbelief at what I was hearing. I could feel she essentially wanted my input on how to become a better paid prostitute and I wanted to re-affirm her self-image without encouraging that!
So I tried some thai style logic. “A good boyfriend is looking for someone who looks like a 'rep-roy' girl, and acting like that won't attract a good man.”
'Rep-roy' is not just nice, but dainty, neat, feminine and perfect in one word.
“Yes, I don't look rep-roy now,” she said so softly and sadly that I couldn't believe it was the same strident voice I had heard earlier.
Just then the English boy passed the shop carrying a bag of snacks, but clearly on his own.
“Hey you, where is girl?!” Her voice cut sharply through the night.
“She's gone, so I'm going home to Harmony house,” he said nonchalantly, naming a guesthouse down the road.
“Gone where? Where you leave her?! You buy her all night.” Her voice was getting aggressive now.
“We did it once, and then she just took off into the next room, and I was alone so I'm going home.”
So much for wanting to believe in 'just cuddling'. There was a quick intense interchange in thai between the two older masseurs, who were confused. My masseur thought she might have gone into the wrong room by accident. I was getting the picture that this girl was an airhead.
“You want me to bring her back? I'll go find her and bring her back,” he helpfully offered. He soon came back with her in tow. She embarrassedly explained that she had gone to the bathroom.
“Well, do you want to come with me to Harmony House? It was so quick you know...”
She laughed and grabbed his cheeks, then walked into the shop and grabbed more condoms. Then she drank a cupful of an anti-pregnancy solution and went away with him down the road, with his words floating back over their shoulders, “we got at least 4 more times tonight!”
The Dutch man looked at me and said, “You must treat women right, sleep with them one time ok, some men hit a girl, and 4 times all night is not right.” Slightly unusual moral standard I thought, but said instead, “they have no protection.”
I asked the masseur in the shawl, “How do you know if this is a good person or not?”
She said nothing but just rubbed her fingers together in the international signal for money.
“Some man not nice, hit girls.”
It was now 1 am so I took my leave, “Pi, save up and get out quick ok?”
“I am saving,” she said, but her face looked resigned.
As I walked away her figure hunched over in the covering black shawl was imprinted on my mind. Hours later I realised I hadn't told her the truth because I couldn't verbalise it then. The reason why men couldn't take advantage of her was because deep down she hated it, and they could feel that even through their lust. She still had tatters of self-respect that were being shredded further everyday.
Lastly, as I treaded my way out through the mud I passed the English boy demanding that the Thai girl hand over what she had in her pocket – the condoms. “Take medicine, ok?” was my last quiet words to her in Thai as I walked past into the night.

History of Disasters & Humanitarian Aid

1960
Biafran Civil - doctors without borders started
1970's
Cambodia- first long term massive refugee migration
Vietnam
1980's
Ethiopia - showed politics, distribution of aid problem, world media
Chernobyl and Exxon - major industrial disaster
1990's
Iraq- new weapons
Rwanda - NGO held accountable - unnecessary deaths
2000's
Katrina- governments need to get into order and have a plan
China - china opened to help
Bosnia - disasters can happen outside of Asia and Africa
Tsunami - good for orgs to have a mandate, too many lone wolfs cause
of cynicism about aid. NGO held to accountability cause of media
Cyclone nargis- politics blocking aid, aid workers needing security (
white flag no longer guaranteeing safety)

Partnership for the Northern Thai