On the Road for A Better World

Random Thoughts from India - April 24 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-27T17:24:00.000-07:00

This part of the country is flat F-L-A-T--flat! And I am from Saskatchewan, so I know flat. I mean this is watch-your-goat-run-away-for-6-days-standing-on-a-chapati flat! I can't imagine where the water goes when it rains. It must go into the soil. If you were to put the proper slope on an average sized parking lot here, the center would be the tallest hill for miles. I guess it makes it easy to make rice patties and there is no shortage of those.

Hair. These people know how to grow hair: long, thick, shiny, black hair--and not just the women! The men all have perfectly quaffed, Elvis-sized, thick, black hair. It is like there is some naturally occurring Minoxidil in the water. And it is not just that they all have a lot of it. Their hair is always clean and shiny and never seems to move in the wind. Maybe it is so thick that there is nowhere for it to move. I, on the other hand, had an emergency haircut 10 minutes before leaving for the airport, and it is the best thing that I could have done. (Thank you, thank you, thank you to my daughter for that!) Even with all my hair only 3/8 of an inch long, I somehow still manage to look like I have just been drug through a hedge backwards.
Sari's in the surf. It seems that bathing suits have not made it to southern India. We stopped at the beach where three seas meet. The sand part of the beach was very small and packed with people. Most were wading in the water, some swimming, but I was the only guy in a bathing suit. The women were in their saris, and the men were in pants or shorts. I am glad I didn’t bring my Speedo! The crowd seemed to part as I walked through, and there was no problem finding space to swim. They were all very polite, but you might have thought Moby Dick had just washed ashore with the stares I got. I would have been less conspicuous in a sari, I think.

Chipmunks! Yes, there are chipmunks in India! I guess there is no good reason that there shouldn’t be, but I was quite startled to see a couple of chipmunks running along the wall in front of my window this morning. I wonder what Alvin would sound like with an Indian accent?

St. Lukes - April 23 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-27T03:29:00.000-07:00

St. Luke’s is so much more than a leprosarium. They have adopted a much more holistic approach to the problem of leprosy. Curing leprosy is a simple matter of the right antibiotics; changing the root cause and the social attitudes around leprosy is a whole other issue. I am not sure how many people in North America realize that leprosy is still a problem in the world. India is by far the world hot spot for new leprosy cases, accounting for about 75% of new cases globally. Fortunately the number of new cases is dropping, but even if there were no more new cases starting today, we still have a 50 year problem.

Early detection is since the bacteria that causes leprosy can be completely wiped out with cheap antibiotics, but the problem is the social stigma. People, especially women, tend not to act quickly because lepers are still shunned from their community. Once the bacteria advances to the stage of damaging nerves, the condition can be halted, but the nerve damage cannot be reversed.

Many of the people I met at St. Luke’s have been there for many years. Damaged limbs prevent them from regular employment, and the community is not welcoming toward them should they try to return to their home village. St. Luke’s retains them and gives them meaning and purpose in their lives. Depending on the degree of damage they have some can work in the fields or do handicrafts. One man is making candles. Others help to care for their fellow patients less fortunate than themselves.

In addition to helping patients suffering from leprosy, St. Luke’s works with the children of patients providing schooling and a home to live in. There are agricultural training programs for these children that include gardening, goat farming, and pig farming. Education of the community is key to integrating people back into society, and although this is a slow process, St. Luke’s is working hard to bring this about. Although I am sure that leprosy will be eradicated from the earth at some point, I also predict it will be long after the roof we are building crumbles. My thanks to the staff of St. Luke’s for their dedication to helping our brothers and sisters in a time of need. When you do this for the least of these...

South India Spa & Weight Loss Program - April 23 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-25T17:58:00.000-07:00

If you are looking for a great way to tone up and lose a few extra pounds, try a trip to South India in April. The program starts as you leave the plane. You can feel the fat melt away in the +40 degree heat. As a matter of fact, it's not just the fat--you melt! You receive plenty of encouragement from all around as you struggle to retrieve your bags from the one small luggage belt carrying everyone's bags from both flights that have just arrived. This becomes your first cardiac workout. The drive to your final destination is a great core workout. It is far too hot to sit back in your seat, so you try to remain upright as your driver navigates the very busy, ever-changing roads. Three hours later you will be 3 pounds lighter, more fit, and have no appetite because of the heat. Only 4 more days to go! This is just what I needed to break that fitness plateau I have been on for the last 6 weeks!

In all seriousness, I was very warmly received (pun intended) by the staff at St. Luke’s Leprosy Colony! I am impressed with the level of organization, professionalism, and care the patients are receiving. There are more than 150 people under care here, and many have been here for more than 20 years. The buildings are aging; many were built in stages as funds were available. Three of the buildings have metal roofs that were supposed to be temporary many years ago! Granted, this is the hottest time of the year, but being under a tin roof at 42 degree C is unbelievable! I can feel the heat radiating down from the roof like an infrared heater. I wish I brought an IR heat tester with me. Or maybe I don’t want to know the surface temperature! We are proposing to replace one roof, and there is a German NGO that will be doing a second roof, but there is still one to go!

This group is well organized and accustomed to doing projects with NGOs and individuals, so I am confident that this project will go smoothly. Reporting is possible because they have internet on campus--not just internet, I was informed, but fast internet! Sure enough, there is one computer connected to the internet at a blistering 10Mb! It reminds me of my office in Ag Mech when I started.

I have not done much to earn my keep yet, but this morning I looked at the playground equipment outside my window to see one broken swing. I knew I brought my Leatherman for something. I found some wire in the ditch (don’t ask) and wired up the swing. I took it for a spin to test the repair. If it holds me, it will hold an entire class of these young kids. I hope that will not be the sum total of my contribution from this trip. Oh yes, I have also donated quite a bit of blood to the local night creatures.

It All Computes - April 18 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-22T18:38:00.000-07:00

It was great to see Grace and the CCIT again today! The place was as clean as a whistle, as always, and Grace was welcoming, as always. It was good to hear the students working hard. They ARE dedication! Some of the students are nearing completion of their course ahead of schedule--a feat even more remarkable considering all the power failures the area has had. You learn to save and save often!

Grace will be moving her computer training skills to a new home under a new name to better serve the needs of the people of the Champai area. I am very excited for her! This will become a true family business as more of her family members graduate. Some will come back to work with her and help her build the business. Grace is always helping someone in her extended family; it will be good for her to get some help back. This is a great example of the sense of comunity that is so common here. I keep learning from Grace and others like her as I travel around the world. I wish Grace the best of luck in her new adventure, and if there are any unused laptops out there, I know where they could find a home...

You can't believe the difference an education makes in a place like this. Too often we take our education for granted in Canada. An education does not guarantee you an easy life here, but having no education guarantees you a hard life! The students thank all of you in Canada who sponsored their tuition. I assure you that you have made a huge difference!

Trigger

2010-04-21T17:32:00.000-07:00

It was a busy day yesterday: lots to take in, lots to deal with. I went to sleep at about 10:30 mostly due to exhaustion--a good exhaustion--but that was not to last. By 3:30 a.m., my mind was wide awake, processing, not interested in sleep. This is not new for me. It happens often. I can only take in so much before I have to stop and think about it. I am great in a crisis. I forge ahead, directing others, solving problems, always walking out of the smoke. Then, some time later, I deal with what I have been through. Life has been busy lately, with Haiti thrown in just in case I dared to think that I might get my head above water, and I know I have a backlog of “stuff” to process. It is great to have 4 solid hours of think-time this morning, but why now? What triggered the need to process this morning? Children singing. The universal language of music.

Yesterday we went to an orphanage where 4 of the students we sponsored come from. Dr. Ray wanted to check out some of the local orphanages anyway, so we killed two birds with one stone. They have 99 orphans here from age 2 to age 17, both boys and girls. They had very little warning that we were coming but warmly received us and gave us a tour. I am not the kind that loves to hold the kids and play ball with them. My strength is more in evaluating buildings, drainage, security and so on. That is pretty much what I did--asked about the agriculture they teach, looked at the mulberry seed harvesting they do, stuff like that--while Dr. Ray talked to the house mother and the kids.

All the kids assembled in the chapel to hear a message from us, and I took the opportunity to meet with the boys taking classes from Grace at CCIT and talk with them a bit. We took a picture (note: they are smiling this time!) and then we went inside. There were opening remarks; Dr. Ray gave a motivational speech about education, caring, and community; and then the children sang for us. Not just Mary had a little lamb, no! They sang hymns in three part harmony. They did not just sing out of duty; they sang with joy and heart. They smiled. They beamed. Music is a part of this community, and it is alanguage that we all understand. I stopped thinking about the construction techniques of the chapel, of the politics of helping, of the flight we might not catch because of the rain. I stopped thinking about it all and was simply inspired.

It was the voices of the children that triggered my minded this morning, their voices focussing me on what needs to be done and reminding me why I am here, why this matters. Their voices are helping me process all that I have experienced, put it into perspective and carry on. Thank you, and keep singing!

Clinic to the Stars - April 17 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-20T20:00:00.000-07:00

Sorry...That should have been "Clinic Under the Stars." The power is a bit flaky here! I have just returned from the new Zowkathar clinic building, and it is a thing of beauty if I do say so myself. No Kappa says it is the nicest building in town, and I have to agree with him. Although the official opening will be in January, The community will start to "test drive" it next week, I suspect. The current clinic is a small, 2-room, wooden building; the new clinic is 9 rooms and made of concrete, brick and tin--a big improvement!

Many people have worked hard to make this happen, and many dollars have been raised abroad. Medical Mercy Canada has worked with their sister organizations in India and A Better World has worked in Canada. Ultimately, it is the local people who will run the clinic with guidance and financial support from MMC. There is no shortage of need in the area, that is for sure! This has been a great example of a collaboration that has worked.

There are always technical issues with a new building--that is why I am here--but sometimes the issues are bigger than expected. When we started this project, the town was to supply water, but, since then, the town demand for water has outstripped the supply. There has been a draught, and the amount of developement in the area makes this place look like a boom town. Be that as it may, we still need water. We have looked at a number of options including pumping from the river, storing rain water, and having water trucked in. The cheap farmer in me is thrilled that we now have a composite solution that will meet the immediate needs of the clinic, at least.

I met the new doctor at the old clinic I suspect he is anxous to move into the new digs! He will be living in the clinic until a house can be built. He should feel lucky. If I had this building in Haiti, I would have 20 families living in it! Now matter how bad off you are, there is always someone else worse off! The same holds true in the other direction: no matter how well off you are, there is always someone with more. Perhaps we should learn to be content with what we have? But, I digress. The people of Zowkathar will be very happy with their new clinic, and if you had something to do with making this happen, pat yourself on the back. Good job!

On a completely unrelated note, every trip seems to have a first of some sort. This trip is no exception: I saw my first pineapple growing! It would be a fun exercise to list everything you have ever eaten then see how many of those items you have touched while they were alive.

Unplugged, But Not By Choice - April 17 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-19T19:49:00.000-07:00

I am unplugged again, but it is different this time. I didn’t plan this, for starters! I can usually count on getting internet at certain spots along my route, but this time it has not happened. The hotel was full; we did not stop at CCIT in Champai; and there is not even cell phone out here in Zohkathar! I am still writing when I have a minute (usually early in the morning when I can’t sleep), but I feel more cut off this trip than ever before. I am safe, healthy, happy, but cut off. I did a week unplugged before without trouble, so what is the difference now?

Expectation, is all. This morning I was up with the first light of dawn. I am staying in a very nice guest house overlooking the Burma boarder. Again, it was very quiet. Again, it was the voices in my head that pulled me from my sleep. But today I looked out at those on the receiving end of the racial rant. As I worried about being disconnected from my family and friends, I looked down at a Burmese family on the India side of the river--truly unplugged, disconnected. Unplugged not just from technology but from their homeland, their family, and their culture. Children who will not see their parents birthplace, children who will be judged by their name first and their actions second, children who will have to create a new culture with elements from their past and present.

I have yet to make the trip from Aizawl to Zowkathar without our driver stopping somewhere to drop off a letter or a package along the way. It just seems to be a community service the driver provides. Although I am unplugged, this blog is getting to you because of a network of friends: a driver willing to drop off a memory stick with Grace at CCIT; Grace willing to download and email this it my editor, Crystal; and Crystal willing to work her magic and mount this for the rest of my family and friends to see. As long as I have friends, I will never be completely unplugged.

Aizawl Again - April 16 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-18T18:32:00.000-07:00

The silence is deafening! It is sometime in the early morning, and the power in out. No fan, no lights. Even the birds and bugs are unplugged. My internal clock is shot, and I never really had the chance to reset my mind after Haiti so here I lay with a thousand voices screaming in my head and no sound to drown them out. This is not the time or place to deal with Haiti, so I will occupy my mind with more immediate and familiar issues.

Getting to Aizawl, again, is never an easy task. The worst part is that you can only fly there from Kolkata, and that means spending a night in Kolkata. This time around, however, the experience was comparatively good! It was 43 degrees when we arrived, but there was a room at the airport and the air conditioner worked. I even got water to come from the shower head! We managed to board the aircraft to Aizawl with a set of badly distorted permit papers. Photocopiers these days!

Rama met us with a truck, and off we went to find all the hotels full. This sounds familiar, eh? The very helpful young lady at David’s Kitchen hotel took a while to recognize me without the beard, but, when she did, she gave me that familiar big smile and said I looked 10 years younger, very good. I figure any time you are told you look very good after 40 hours of flying, it is a banner day. We spent the night in a very nice, private residence. I look at Aizawl differently after having been to Haiti. I love Aizawl--one of the last places that really took my breath away--but in the light of my earthquake experience, I feel less comfortable here now.
The voices screaming in my head are not the voices of earthquake survivors but the voices of average people all over the world screaming at each other. I have had too many conversations lately about how this group of people are bad or how that group of people needs to go away. I am uncomfortable with prejudice, although we all possess it to some degree. People should be judged on their actions, not the color of their skin, the spelling of their last name, or the church they attend or don’t attend. We are all different, but we are all together on one very small rock that is getting much smaller! Within any group, there are people who want to make a positive difference. Those are the people I want to work with; those are the people I want to support.

It's an Icelandic/Germanic/Indian Birthday

2010-04-15T08:18:00.000-07:00

This is the oddest birthday I have had, that is for sure. It started flying over Iceland and carried right on through to Kolkata, India. For many years, Donna would make me an angelfood cake (yes, I get the irony) with whipped cream and frozen blueberries for my birthday. Often, my Aunt Winnie would follow this with another angelfood cake with high-quality vanilla icecream and a great cup of coffee. This year everything seems to have changed. I got a McDonald's egg McMuffin and chased it with a root beer; you make do with what you have!

This should be the time of my life when I am wrapping things up, shutting things down, looking to retirement, and I do think like that sometimes but not often. I have learned too much the last few years--mostly that I know nothing and that there is so much I want to learn. I don't mean book learn or letters-behind-my-name learn; I mean the type of learning that comes from experiencing. And I want to share that learning and lead the experience for others. I want to open my mind and open others near me.

Last year at this time, I was in the middle of a cancer scare. Shortly after my birthday, while I was on top of a mountain in Bolivia viewing ancient Incan ruins, I learned the good news that I did not have cancer. I had the mental flow chart ready for the other answer--plan A,B,C,D and E--but it turned out I got to pick the first box that said,"If no, exit flowchart."

I have no idea what this next year holds for me other than being sure it will not go the way I plan. I do know that I will continue to attempt to do what is just; I will work at loving constantly; and, I promise, I will try harder to live humbly.

No Rest for the Wicked (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-12T20:08:00.000-07:00

"He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God." Micah 6:8

I can't believe I have been back from Haiti for 6 days already, and tomorrow I leave for India! Some mornings I am not sure if I can use the tap water to brush my teeth; I have to stop and think of what country I am in first. Although life is a blur for me these days, there are some recurring themes that pop up regardless of where I lay my head:

Be thankful for what you have! The people of Thor's camp reinforced for me the idea that we are better off to be thankful for what we have than to complain about the things we don't have--a lesson I need to remember, especially coming from a country with so much. Don't stop trying to improve your lot in life, but make sure that which you seek will truly bring improvement. Spend more time reflecting on what you have.

Be thankful for who you have! It is the people in your life and the community you create that will be there for you when you need help. There is a great Haitian proverb that, translated loosely, says, "cooked food has no master." The evidence of community in Haiti is overwhelming, and I am jealous of them. Not everyone in the camp are best friends, but when one family gets food, everyone eats. The knowledge that they are stronger together than they are apart is something that they live by but that we too often forget. And now I am off to India--again to a community that truly believes that together they are stronger than they are apart.

Be thankful for the time you have! Life is short; it can be very short. Working in disaster zones makes you value life and the short time we have on this earth. I have often said I would rather live 50 years like a lion than 100 years like a chicken. Live each day to the fullest; don't put off opportunity, and don't put off connections. To seriously paraphrase: do what is just, love constantly, walk humbly.

In true Scottish style, I want my tombstone to read, "he got his money's worth!" But let's not put that tombstone up any time soon. I'm not done yet!

It Takes Time to Process (by Karen Fyles)

2010-04-04T20:11:00.000-07:00

Prior to this trip to Haiti, I viewed many pictures and even first-hand video of the quake devastation. I talked with people who had visited Haiti soon after the tragedy and with a Haitian friend who was here at the time. None of that really prepared me for the magnitude of the situation. Having now spent three days here, I can only say I am still processing. We have spent hours driving through towns and countryside, and the damage goes on and on. Evidence of this catastrophic quake is everywhere. Tent camps dot the landscape. Some are well organized, sporting new tarps and tents, even lights in the evening. Others are put together from what can be found: sticks, sheets and blankets create a makeshift shelter. As the rainy season approaches, I can only imagine the misery of living in a blanket shelter.

In Camp Thor, the wood and sheet metal shelters are going up. Optimism is evident. Young men fill and carry buckets of rock and earth to create the raised floors. The carpenter and workers are busy building. After only a few days, people are moving in. These shelters, the size of a garden shed, are luxurious when compared with those in which people of the camp are currently living.

Food and water are a constant need. Current aid is short term and often intermittent. While aid is allowing people to survive in the short term, one can only wonder at the long term solutions. Haiti’s problems are complex.

Resiliency is evident here. Children keep busy building kites. Schools are not in session. Town centers are lined with stalls of fruit, veggies, grilled chicken, live chickens, ducks and turkeys, shoes, auto parts, newly cut sticks for shelter supports, whatever can be found to sell. Rubble piles line the streets as buildings are dismantled. Teams of workers making $5 a day cart rubble in wheelbarrows. Some rebuilding has begun. Life continues.

Haiti's problems are monumental. I feel conflicted about the role of the global community in providing aid. Haitians undeniably need help and will continue to need support for years to come. What that support looks like depends on your perspective. I feel priviledged to have had the opportunity to see first-hand Haiti's state of affairs. Haitian's are passionate, hospitable people who exhibit a strong entrepreneurial spirit. I am still processing how we can best help.

Hope Floats (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-03T18:13:00.000-07:00

...or, more to the point, hope stays dry. I am done taking damaged building pictures. I can’t take another. I have seen enough darkness. I know it is there; I don’t need any more reminding. I need all my attention to be focussed on looking to the light. Hope is contagious. I caught it from the people in Camp Thor.

Things have changed in Port au Prince in the last month--some good, some not so good. I want to build on the good. When we arrived at Camp Thor a month ago, the mood was one of desperation, despair, and just a hint of hope. Not everyone believed that we would do anything other than look and leave--a pattern they had witnessed many times before. The mood that dominated was the never-ending tension in the camp. Sometimes it would flare up and then ebb a bit, but it was always there.

Today the predominant mood in Camp Thor is hope. People are smiling; kids are playing, making kites and laughing. Don’t get me wrong: there are huge problems still, but the mood has switched from tension to hope. There has not been a food delivery since ABW delivered food last month; the water money has dried up, so to speak; and employment is still scarce. But even in the face of all this, hope rises above all.

Why the change? Well, water makes a huge difference. Being able to wash your clothes, your hair, drink without fearing disease--these are huge factors--but the shelter project has added even more hope. Eleven men have steady work and will continue to have a job after this project ends. Families have a chance to be dry during the rain as soon as the roof is done. They move into the shelters during the night and move out during the day to complete the work. I noticed that my pictures taken in the camp this time have many smiling faces.

With such massive problems, why smile? Too many of us concentrate on what we don’t have instead of concentrating on what we do have. I admire the hope that floats through the camp. Some rubbed off on me, and I too have more hope. We all need to spend more time thinking about what we have and be thankful.

It's a Man's Prerogative to Change His Mind! (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-04-01T18:07:00.000-07:00

(Port-au-Prince, Haiti - April 1, 2010)
First off, the shelters are going up! After some interesting politics and some supply issues, the work started about a week ago. Eleven men from the camp are working with Paco's foreman to build in a very manual way: 1x2 lumber is not available, so 1x4 lumber is ripped in half with two hand saws, one from each end. I think it becomes a bit of a race with men switching off the saws as they tire.

My question to Paco was if we could speed things up by getting two more saws? He replied that if I was serious about getting things done quicker, I would figure out how to get a generator on site so he could use his power saw. Now, those who know me know that I am opposed to generators in general. I launched into my usual reply about how the generator would put 4 men out of work and so on. He assured me that, when this project is done, he has many more lined up and that he would hire all the men to work on those projects. "Besides," he added.....

"THE RAINS ARE COMING!!!!"

Point taken, Paco. I am off shopping for a generator today!

Mastering Mixed Memories

2010-03-27T05:27:00.000-07:00

"...'honour your father and mother' and 'love your neighbour as yourself." Matt 19:19

I have been looking, with increasing intensity, for a stand-mounted mixer ever since I took the gearbox out of one making gingerbread at Christmas. I may have been a bit obsessed with my quest for a mixer. I am far too cheap to spend $300 on a new mixer, so I have been cruising the second hand stores to see what is on offer. Most of what I have found has not been quite right--no beaters, no bowls, wobbly turntable, etc. I knew I had crossed the line from casual shopper to obsessive searcher when I caught myself "putting the word out."

So, I was thrilled last week when my dad called to tell me that they had found a mix master at the local thrift shop. It had a cord, beaters, bowls, everything! Dad and his wife kindly dropped it off and had a visit. The mixer was great, better in some ways than the one we had growing up. It even has a splash cover! I used it to make a batch of corn muffins, and it worked perfectly. Case closed--or it should have been.

I am madly trying to get ready to go back to Haiti on Monday. There are about a million things I have to take care of before I go, but in spite of all that, I've become aware that I still have some unresolved mixer issues. The logical side of me doesn't understand. I was given a perfectly good one already. And, as my daughter has pointed out, I really don't need a stand mixer at all; she does everything with a hand mixer, and so could I. I am going back to a country where a mixer would be the last thing on anyone's priority list--far below tarps, clothes, food, jobs--but yet it lingers in my mind even as I pack and plan.

Yesterday, I was at the bank getting US cash, and thought I would pop into the second hand store next door. I am always looking for suitcases, a 3/4 size (48") box spring (if anyone has one!), and aquarium stuff. On the way out, I passed the appliance section and, to my disbelief, there was a stand mixer. Not just any stand mixer--our stand mixer! A Mixmaster stand mixer complete with the two original bowls, beaters that are not bent, no wobble in the stand, dough hooks, and even the manual! And all for just $20!

Transfixed, I was drawn to the mixer and picked it up. Instantly I understood! This was not just a mixer; it was a memory trigger. That mixer was my mom's mixer with the same beaters I got to lick off, and the same bowl I got to clean out. Those were the beaters I had to straighten in our little shop when I ran the spatula through them.

I know now that, as I head back to Haiti and to families torn apart, I needed that Mixmaster to connecting with my lost family. My mother died of cancer when I was in my 20s. Many of my fond childhood memories include cooking with her. I am really glad I found her mixer but even happier that I figured out why it was so important to find it. Cheap as I am, I would have paid $300 for that old mixer. It is currently sitting on my piano with the family photos, I will find a home for it in a cupboard at some point, but am in no hurry.

P.S. I have about 10,000 songs that play randomly while I work at my computer. In the middle of writing this blog, the Tractors version of "Lord of the Dance" came on. This is the song that my mother wanted to be played at her memorial, and I remember her saying, "Don't let them drag it! It is a celebration! It is dance!" Well, it was played at her memorial, and the organist didn't drag it. But today, as I remembered her yet again, the Tractors took it to a whole other level! She would've like it I am sure! Coincidence?

...And They're Off! (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-03-01T14:39:00.000-08:00

The clouds broke this morning as we drove down to the camp to meet Paco, the contractor. I couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to have spent the night in the sheet tents that can be found in each camp. There is a saying here that Haitians would rather take a bullet than get wet. This is not a group of people you will find singing in the rain! Before we got to the camp, the sky was clouding over--motivation enough for all to work quickly!

As we walked from the truck to the camp the ground was muddier than any other day, and I could see were the ditches had been flowing fast, carrying debris down to the sea. Paco was waiting for us at the camp with the camp council, and we started the final meeting before breaking ground. It is very important that all the players are sing from the same song sheet--not an easy task when the parties involved speak English, French, Spanish and Creole. By the end of the meeting, the air was filled with a beautiful four-part harmony--music to my ears.

Paco took us to see a similar shelter that his crew had built in the yard where they are staying. We took a few from the camp to see as well. These are simple shelters, but so much better than a bed sheet! Paco impressed me with his design for the camp by describing the site drainage first and the housing second. It is all about the drainage, and he gets that! At one point, there was a very spirited exchanged between the women's representative and the men's representative in one or more languages, none of which were English. Ron informed me that the discussion was around why they were still talking, and not working! And...they're off! Tents have to come down to put a shelter up; the community will erect one set of houses a day so no one is outside for a night.

Two years ago, I was called to Africa to deal with some light/water issues. I had to leave the autodesk conference early to catch the plane. On my way out, my eye was drawn to a small wind-up flashlight that Autodraft was giving out. I immediately thought, "These would be very useful for many people I see when I travel." Getting to the outhouse in the dark while avoiding the elephants can be tough without light. I approach Claire, the owner of Autodraft, about getting a few to take. When I explained why I wanted them, she went to the back of her car and GAVE me about 150 lights! I brought the last of the lights with me to Haiti and left them with the matriarch of the camp to give to those most in need. It is amazing what the gift of light can do when there is only darkness around you! (Glance at the darkness, but look to the light!)

We leave tomorrow (I think I will be back soon), and although the skies are dark, there is a bit more light in the lives of one small group of Haitians because of those of you who have helped--helped with donations, helped with communication, helped with moral support, and helped with raising awareness back home! I cannot say thank you enough!

I Can See Clearly Now, the Rain is Gone (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-02-28T17:40:00.000-08:00

The rain last night could only be described as torrential, and the sinking feeling I had was not only from the mud under my sandals. We thought we had some time before the rainy season hit, but this seemed to say we were wrong and already too late. We have started to build a great relationship within the camp; not only have we showed up more than once, but we actually did something. Many people come and go, promises are made, but nothing comes of it. Cynicism is inevitable. Despair seeps in. Tensions rise. But in the last three days, A Better World has turned on the tap to 1000 gallons of clean water and will continue to supply water for six weeks, until the community can figure out how to buy their own or how to bring in town water. ABW and Indajoven brought the only health clinic the community has seen, and while the clinic was running, ABW made up 300 food hampers for the camp.

Yesterday afternoon, Pat and I were standing near the water tanks talking about fine tuning the system, and Thor was nearby talking with the community leaders. All of a sudden, Thor broke out in gales of laughter. The committee had been saying, "Just get us tarps. We can't afford to build these shelters you are proposing. We know how; we just can't afford it." When Thor quit laughing he explained to these men that they only had to build the shelter, that we would buy the materials. I cannot describe the range of emotions that rolled across their faces, but the final expression was undeniably relief! I am a father and a grandfather, and I know the worry they feel about the health and safety of their families. Their true level of deep concern did not become apparent until today.

Today the rubber hit the road! We met with Paco, the contractor, today about the shelters. I believe strongly in consulting local expertise and combining the best of both worlds. Pat and I have designed a solution for the camp buildings, then we redesigned them, then the rain hit and desperation to get more people under cover for the same money had us redesign them again. After all that, walking into this meeting, I truly believed we had the minimalist solution. Meanwhile, however, Paco had been meeting with the camp council and developed a much more detailed plan, including the number of people per family. Here is what they are asking for: 1.5 square meters per person (that is 16 square feet per person). Let me put that into perspective for you: in Alberta, if you want to rent out a single room, it cannot be less than 100 square feet! The request for space is half of what Pat and I considered to be the bare minimum. This means that the entire camp site will be able to shelter more people, IF we can come up with more funds. The upshot is that we have negotiated to get 44 families under cover. Work starts tomorrow! This is a great day for me, but an even better day for one small group of unfortunate Haitians. Thank you for everyone who has supported us so far. You cannot understand what a huge difference you have made. You just can't possibly understand! Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Port au Prince: City Under Siege (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-02-27T18:58:00.000-08:00

We are driving through the city right now trying to get to an artisan community, and, as we drive, Thor has been going over some of the statistics:

300,000 dead
50 Canadians still missing
400,000 moved out of PauP to the provinces
1,200,000 homeless left in the city

The problem with that third statistic, the large number of people leaving the city, is that the rural infrastructure is not in place to support that many people. When the international community invested in Haiti, they put most of the development into Port au Prince. The discussion in the car went something like this: when all the aid for Haiti was concentrated in Port au Prince, all the eggs were put into that one basket, and now the basket has been dropped, set on fire, driven over to extinguish the flames, had its ashes scooped up and dumped into a well that was then flooded with rain water and washed out to sea! That, as we see it, is the state of Port au Prince today! Now, we might be a bit punchy from a lack of sleep, but the assessment is not far off.

Back in the car now after visiting the metal artisans--pretty cool stuff! I will have some up for auction along with some paper mache art when I return. It was like music to hear the artisans pounding on the steel. It was the music of making a living, banging out a future for their families and their country. This work is very labor-intensive and truly skilled craftmanship. There is an undeniable, immediate, life-threatening need in Haiti right now, but there is a bigger, long-term problem, as well. Haiti needs to build an economy. These artisans are doing their part by creating a foreign market, making something that can be exported in exchange for foreign currency to build the economy.

We stopped at the Thor camp to see the water system. The people are thrilled to have clean water available! One person has been given the responsibility of metering the water out, and, as we speak, a shed is being constructed around the tanks to keep them safe. Pat and I surveyed the site for the best location to put up the first of 5 shelter buildings. I have some funding in place, but I need money! We have the contractor, the materials, the local labor, the blessing of the landlord; we are just short of cash. Here is the deal: we can put a family into interim housing for $4/square foot. I am a cheap Schotchman, so I can promise you, this is a cheap as it gets! They really need your help here! Please get involved!

I just want to add that I know many of you are worried about us, and I don't think that there is anything I can say to stop you from doing that, but the most dangerous part of this trip, like all trips, is the driving. We are quite safe, and I can certainly say that I am in my element. I am making a difference, using my talents to help others. I cannot stay at home, perhaps safer, knowing that these people are living like this when I can make a difference. I have the time off work, I have the talent to help make things happen, and I would like to think that someone like me would help our family if we were in the same boat.

Printing, Packing, and Pizza

2010-02-25T19:44:00.000-08:00

Today was an odd day...a little of everything. I spent most of the morning drawing up the shelter plans. There was a bit of a time crunch because the printer lady was going home. She was very efficient before she left, however, and produced two copies of the plans Pat and I have settled on. In farm structures class I tell the students that if all they want to do is keep the outside out and the inside in then the cheapest way to do that is a pole frame building. It turns out, that is just what I need to do down here: keep the outside out and the inside in. So, guess what? We will start construction of a pole frame building on Saturday. We just received word that it is raining in Port au Prince tonight. By morning there will be a quarter million Haitians in varying degrees of wetness! Now is not the time to pontificate; now is the time to act!

Eric and Pastor Ron packed up today to head into Port au Prince. You know that a guy has not ever been camping when he asks you how to roll up a sleeping mat! Eric received his fair share of ribbing while he tried to get the air out of the mat and get it stuffed into the carrying case. He prevailed in the end,though. Pat and I stayed behind to finish up some things and to go to the artisan group in Jacmel tomorrow.

The food here has been great albeit a bit unusual. I am thrilled that it is not spicy! Tonight had fried chicken and pizza with potatoes and gravy. Not the usual combination, but it all was very good!

Last night, I had the munchies. I went into the kitchen and a few of the guys were there talking. When the subject of snacks came up, it was mentioned that there was a bag of animal crackers on the counter. I went to retrieve the bag and discovered more animal crackers than I have ever seen in my life. In fact, the bag weighed 30 pounds! They tasted great! I ate too many.

On the way to the beach there was a very nice little restaurant (was being the operative word.) Just about all that is left of it is the door and, sad as it is, the sign on the door is very funny. Have a look and tell me what you think the sign was supposed to say?

On the road tomorrow. I am anxious to get the community starting to build their new homes! I don't know if we will have internet from here on in. We are not staying at the same place as last time. (I guess when you run from a house scantily clad they think twice about asking you back! Go figure!) So, I don't know when you'll hear from me again, but 'til then, appreciate just how dry you are tonight.

Smile :)

2010-02-25T08:08:00.000-08:00

I slept last night! The day looks brighter on a good night's sleep. Makes it a little easier to look to the light and forget the night. The previous night will be hard to forget, and it is important to remember that there are about 3 million people here who have had to repeat that night for six weeks now.

On a much lighter note, Ray from A Better World read my blog and sent Eric an email suggesting that we take adult diapers on the next trip. It seems he thought that Eric offered me a towel as I streaked passed him because the aftershock had literally scared the crap out of me! Eric explained that his offer was not because of any incontinence but because I had streaked past him. At this explanation, Ray laughed so hard that Eric was afraid Ray would need diapers. I want to set the record straight, however. I was not naked; I did have my underwear and glasses on! I am glad my experience could bring a smile to someone's face, at any rate. It didn't bring one to mine at the time, but, in the light of day, I have to smile, too.

Yesterday, Pat inspected a number of buildings for structural integrity and had to deliver some bad news to some families, but was able to offer suggestions to others on how to repair their houses. Some houses received a clean bill of health, and that is the kind of news that will put a smile on your face. There are some very clear trends emerging about why some structures failed and others didn't, but I won't bore you with the technical details here. Unfortunately one of the buildings that had to come down was the trade school here at the Haiti Arise campus.

We walked out to look at a potential site for a clinic and school, and what struck me was the irony of Haiti's gang culture. Pre-earthquake, Haiti worked long and hard to clean up the gang problem, to get rid of the colors. Now there is a new type of gang culture with the the makeshift tents acting as symbols of the organizations at work aound them: blue tarps mean Samaritan's Purse; white tarps mean Canadian armed forces; white helicopters mean the UN...You know helicopters always put a smile on my face.

We went to a local hospital because the team doctor had some questions. Pat and I were drawn to the building's damage and concluded that this hospital had probably had the roof removed by a hurricane sometime in the last few years, only to be damaged again by this! Our suspicions were later confirmed. We stopped at the local government school to find it in good shape but not functioning yet. Schools have children, and children always have smiles, even after an event like this! There is a lot to be learned from children.

There was a comment made about my pictures, that there are none of me smiling. I guess that is because I have had little to smile about. Not that because I am depressed or feel hopeless, but just because there are more questions than answers (and maybe because there is not enough sleep!) I started drawing up plans for temporary housing in the camps today--an answer! Pat agrees we are on the right track with the design and approach--an answer! I am involved with supporting an artisan co-op to export their work--an answer! The piles of questions in my mind are being cleaned up. Even my body got a break today; it was so hot we had to retire to the sea, and that put a BIG SMILE ON MY FACE!

"Hey Gordon, Do You Want a Towel?" (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-02-23T19:27:00.000-08:00

I tried to get to sleep by 10:00 last night, I really did. But it was after midnight when Eric and I finished the ABW business, then we got into a philosophical discussion about what we were trying to get done here, so it was about 1:30 before I went to bed upstairs. Eric was still sleeping near the door. I spend an hour thinking about the day, then, just as I was drifting off another aftershock hit. My rational mind said "High frequency, low amplitude; no worries." My emotions, however, said "Get out now!" My feet didn't wait for my mind or my heart to weigh in on the issue; I was already halfway down the stairs! Eric was yelling "Gordon, get out!" when I shot past him at the front door. With his next breath he said "Hey Gordon, do you want a towel?" And, as a matter of fact, I did! (Remember, I told you that I do not heed my mother's advice to always wear PJs to bed!!) After the initial shock wore off, I thought I better get my clothes and such. I went back in and put on more than a towel. I had just sat paused by the table to get my computer when the next aftershock hit. Again, I raced out the door. This time, I did not need a towel.

Eric and I decided to sleep outside like everyone else. The logical part of me lost the debate last night, but you can't win 'em all. I slept on the driveway next to a short retaining wall, and Eric slept in a car. There was one more shock that rattled all the fences. The reality is that these aftershocks are nothing like the real quake physically, but the emotional toll is immense.

In the morning we said goodbye to our great hostess as she stood by her tent and took one last look at the great house that no one, even us, will sleep in. These people have been living with this situation for six weeks now, every night, and they don't get to leave the country in a week for the bedrock of the Canadian prairies. Everytime I come home from a trip, I reflect upon a mental list of reasons for why I love my home. Now I will add one more: no earthquakes!

We also said goodbye to Thor today at the airport and then jumped into the Haiti Arise vehicles to drive out to the campus. All the way along you see groups of Haitians working to clean up--some seem employed by NGOs while others seem to be self-organized groups.

The thing that did not change--that never seems to change--is camp after camp of makeshift tents. I just can't imagine what this will look like when the rains come. Wait...YES I CAN, and it is ugly.

It is more than a little embarrasing that the tent we have now moved into is so much better than anything else around here and is designed so it can't fall down in a quake.

Must go to a meeting now. Tomorrow, I will tell you about inspecting houses.

Shaken, and Stirred (by Gordon Gilchrist)

2010-02-22T20:51:00.000-08:00

It was after midnight before I turned in and some time after that before the adrenaline turned to deep sleep, but, tired as I was, at 4:36 this morning I went from a dead sleep to highly alert. As I leapt from my matress, the first thing to go through my mind was my mother's voice saying, “You should always wear PJs to bed,” but I don’t. The second thing to go through my mind was the knob on the dressser. Apparently, I had rolled over in the night, and, when I lunged out of bed, I lunged from the wrong side of the matteress into the nearest piece of furniture. What did not go through my mind was if the shaking was caused by a truck; in no time at I I was fully aware that no truck was causing the tremor that woke me. Aftershocks are an effective way to stir one from slumber!

We are all fine, and there was no new damage in the area around where we are staying--none that I can tell, at least. It would be tough to know if some of these buildings are more damaged today than yesterday. It is tough to get back to sleep after that type of an awakening, but I tried. Needless to say, the day started at 4:30 a.m.

There was no water this morning, and it is very hot today, so I bet I smell pretty ripe. I did get some texts out, but communication is tough and very sporadic. I got a connection at lunch long enough to let my family know we are fine and to get a broader message out via Facebook. Thanks to my editor for getting an update on the blog site as soon as she knew we were safe. That is a big help. But enough about me...

We have been working on getting water to Thor’s camp for a few days now. We met with the camp council this morning to work out the final details. We then left them to build a stone pad 1.5 meters high for the tanks while we went to the bank to get money. As it turns out, they can build faster than we can get cash. We have tanks in place tonight, and the water truck is ordered for tomorrow. This does not fix the problem; the water has to be paid for, but the residents will have to work that out. A Better World will supply the first six-weeks worth of water, but then they need to sustain themselves.

I now have three building proposals to talk over with myself: standard wood frame with a stressed skin (inspired by the Hawker Hurricane), a pole frame (inspired by a 1960s' hay shed), and a ridged steel frame hoop house on steroids (inspired by insanity, I suppose...the Gordon Gilchrist 2010 variety). Coming up with these options has been kind of a trip down memory lane for me. Who would have dreamed that what I learned in aviation school might keep earthquake survivors dry decades later?! I need to have a solid plan in place soon so we can get started ASAP; the rains are coming! I have promised myself (and Eric) that I will bring these semi-permanent shelters in for a $1000/family. Remember, that amount won't buy you much of a garden shed in Canada, but they would be happy to have one here.

I was shaken awake and stirred into action this morning and have not stopped since--not stopped thinking at any rate. Keep us in your prayers, your thoughts, and your cheque books. The Haitians have labour, building materials, and a huge need. All they lack is a little help ($$$) which we can provide. Thanks to all who have sent comments, emails, and words of support. Remember, for every person who comes down here to help, there should be 100 people behind them at home. Nothing happens without your support, THANK YOU!!!!

* EDITORIAL NOTE *

2010-02-22T08:44:00.000-08:00

According to the USGS, Haiti experienced an "aftershock" at 9:36 a.m. (local time). The magnitude of this occurance was a 4.7 at the epicenter, approximately 35 kilometers west of Port au Prince. We want to let you know that we have heard from Eric Rajah and Gordon Gilchrist who are currently in that area and THEY ARE OKAY. They report that all is business as usual today in spite of the tremor. Continue to pray for their safety (and that of everyone in the country), but rest assured that they are safe and secure at this time.

Over the Hill!

2010-02-21T20:31:00.000-08:00

Wow, what a day! We started in Port au Prince and then traveled over to mountains to Jacmel where the Canadians are stationed. We saw them guiding traffic around the fresh landslides. There is good reason to stop: your traffic control officer has a machine gun!

Jacmel is a beautiful town on the coast, a tourist destination with a few good looking hotels. We were there with Thor who is supporting an artisan project to get the talented people back to work. Everything takes longer here--including lunch!--so it was 2:00 before we started to Grand Goave. The road follows the mountain ridge for most of the way making for spectacular views but a bit of a scary trip with the road all cracked up. All in all, these are some of the best roads I have been on abroad; better than Saskatchewan!

We stopped briefly at the Haiti Arise camp and met Mark and the Samaritans Purse team (more on that later.) Driving home we passed many tent camps, but you should know that when I say "tent" I mean everything from sheets on sticks to air conditioned army tents. There is aid here, but it is not getting out like it should, partly because organizations are having to cycle their staff in and out. If you do not have a strong spokesperson, your camp is in trouble. So let me put another plug in to any UBC administrators out there: find a way to keep your guy on the ground in Haiti! KEEP MICHAEL (THOR) BURNHAM IN HAITI!! (Carole, this is your chance to help. Surely you have a contact?)

It is raining as we speak, and I am inside. Our host family has gone outside for the night as they will still not sleep in their house. Eric sleeps next to the door. I am not so worried for myself, but I know what is happening in the camps tonight, and it is not good! The rainy season is upon us very soon. Tomorrow I will draw up a few options for transitional housing. We can't put permanent housing on the tent sites but there is nowhere else until some rubble is cleared. These people can't live in tents. The cheap farmer in me is working on a solution for about $1,000.00/family. Materials are more expensive here than at home, but labor is cheaper.

I am falling asleep at the keyboard. Well, that is not true, but my mind is wandering back to cheap shelter, so I will quit for the night.

Glance Behind but Look Ahead

2010-02-20T19:51:00.000-08:00

Eric and I have not left Port au Prince yet. It is hard to walk away from the need. What I saw today reminds me of the news reels from the Second World War of a bombed out city. One building would be completely collapsed while the next one would look just fine. The amount of damage here is unbelievable. One estimate I heard states that 1000 trucks running 24 hours a day will need 2 years to clear downtown Port au Prince. I think that is optimistic. (It doesn't take into consideration that buildings that are completely collapsed are easier to deal with than buildings that have just partially fallen down.)

The 'structures' teacher in me sees examples of failure in shear, in compression, and in tension. The father in me smells the decaying bodies of school children and teachers still buried under tonnes of concrete as we drive by a large school. Burned in my mind is the image of a young man squatting alone on top of a pile of rubble, head in hands.

This place could grind you into a pit of depression if there wasn't so much needing to be done. The choice I made is to glance into the darkness but to focus on the light. I spent most of the day in two tent camps--small by Port au Prince standards. The first has about 700 families and is currently being run by a capable 23-year-old young lady from the Dominican. The camp is just below the Red cross building and beside a church mission, both of which are heavily fenced, beautiful, and not doing anything to assist those within the camp on their doorstep. The second camp is being helped by Thor, a professor from UBC who specialized in Haitian studies. This camp has even worse conditions than the first and, thankfully, is smaller with only 103 families.

As I stood on a nearby roof with a non-functioning water tank on one side and a pigeon coop on the other, I surveyed the smaller camp and my mind screamed, "look ahead, look ahead!" This is the situation where I function best: problems that demand to be solved with little money and time. And what I see before me here is definitely a big problem! This will require more than one step and much of the solution is simply not within the capabilities of A Better World or any other small NGO. It would be easy to become overwhelmed and depressed, but there is just no time for that. Instead, we will identify those things that we can do well and make the solutions happen as cheap and fast as we can. Time is working against us; the rainy season is fast approaching, and these tent camps will be a breeding ground for disease and misery.

The tent camps were needed, and a permanent solution is needed as well, but in the meantime (LIKE RIGHT NOW!!!) a semi-permanent solution needs to be put into place. New houses cannot be built where the tents are pitched because they sit upon the city's parks and playing fields--any clear space, actually, public or private. So what can be done? I spent the afternoon in hardware stores and building supply stores, and I am working on an answer. Stay tuned...

P.S. If you are an administrator at UBC, you can help by telling your very useful and capable professor, Michael Burnham, that you will see to it that his classes will be covered and that you are going to keep paying him while he is down here. If you are not a UBC administrator but you know one, you can help best by sending them this blog.

Out of the Darkness and Into the Light

2010-02-19T19:19:00.000-08:00

I have never experienced pitch black nor pure light. My life has been spent in the continuum between darkness and light. December 21st is a banner day in my house, because that is when the hope for more light begins. This has been a particularly dark fall. I quit writing this blog after Christmas partly because I wasn't sure if anyone was still reading it and partly because I didn't feel I had anything worth saying. It seems the days are getting longer now, however, and the light has returned to my life.

I believe we require a balance between darkness and light in our daily life. Too much of either is not healthy. Our lives can appear dark for many reasons: short days, no power, or tinted glasses to name a few. But I think sometimes the darkness is there simply because I forget to open my eyes and see. Often the light is there, has been there perhaps for many years, but I just don't open my eyes to see.

En route to Haiti as part of A Better World's assistance team for that devastated country, I arrived in the Dominican Republic and was asked what I thought of Santa Domingo last night. I had to reply that it was "dark." We had landed during the night and had no reference for what it would look like in the morning. But in spite of the darkness last night, morning came--as it always does.

Sometimes things look dark just because of what we compare it to. That's what the contrast slider is for! A little fiddling with the contrast control can fix this particular problem in a hurry. Being here in Haiti has quickly moved my contrast slider to the bright side for my life! Darkness and light are relative terms that cannot be expressed in isolation. Our lives are best viewed in relative terms, too. Recent events have reminded me of the importance of opening my eyes to see. The days are getting longer and relatively speaking, my future's so bright, I have to wear shades!

Keep the people of Haiti in your hearts, your prayers, or at least in the front of your mind.

P.S. Write a comment every now and then so I know you are out there.

Now THIS is India!

2009-11-21T09:56:00.000-08:00

I made it out! The ATR-72 (a new plane for my list) found it’s way through the clouds, and I left Aizawl for a three-legged trip to Hyderabad. At each stop, I was the only person carrying on, it seemed. One of the stops required the plane to be refueled which meant I had to get off, but I wasn’t allowed into the airport, so I just stood on the runways visiting with the pilot and ground crew. We were delayed because they didn’t have enough fuel at the airport. The fuel truck took fuel from one plane and put it into ours.

Thanks to Carol P. and her contacts, there was a car waiting when I landed, and we left Hyderabad at 11 p.m. for the 11-hour drive to Narsapur. The scenery was what I thought India would be like: flat and wet, dotted with water buffalo and beautiful colorful temples.

We stopped for breakfast on the road. I had a Coke.

I met up with Pat, and Sisay and Pastor Chand took us out to the orphanage. The greeting--complete with a banner and signs and flowers--overwhelmed Pat. We had a short program of welcome with speeches and some action songs from the children.

We toured the orphanage. The building is good, but it is very small for 40 kids. Every night they pull the mats onto the floor to sleep but must stack them up again in the morning to have a place on the floor to sit and eat . Each child has a small tin locker for their clothes.

We had a long and productive meeting with Pastor Chand in the afternoon. He has been looking after us very well: providing good food and making sure we have what we need. Thank you for that!

It's People That Make the Difference

2009-11-19T17:39:00.000-08:00

I have always said that you must have good people on the ground if a project is going to work, and I stand by that statement. I might be "project manager," but if I don't have a great person as the in-country project manager, the chance of success diminishes greatly. I am fortunate to have a whole team of great people working on the clinic project in Mizoram. Nokap is doing an outstanding job of managing the project funds and books as well as consulting on materials and problem solving with the rest of the people involved.

The contractor is keeping the materials flowing to the job site and lining up the labour force. He is ahead of schedule, and best of all, on budget. His crew is working every day, under the watchful eye of the foreman. The only time I saw the workers stop was when I asked them to pose for a photo.

Grace is doing a great job with the computer training center, too: making forms for me and gathering personal information about potential students while still doing a great job in the classroom. She is not alone. I watched her family support her in the work she does. Her brother is now helping with the teaching, freeing some time for her to work on our project. I met her mother and father who beam with pride about the job their daughter is doing.

People who are not involved with a project yet have also been very kind. The principal of the Pine Hill Academy and Rama who manages of the new Adventist hospital and teaches at the SDA school in town both took time off to meet me at the plane in Aizawl and accompany me back to Champai. They opened their homes to me, fed me, and looked after my needs. We hope to work with these people soon with projects to help those whom they represent. Knowing that we have good people on the ground makes supporting a project much easier.

I cynic might say that all those people have a vested interest in being good to me, because they are receiving something in return. Of course this is true, but I believe that the relationship is far more symbiotic than parasitic. I also believe that these people are working not to improve their own lot in life but to help the members of their community who it.

I have been stuck in Aizawl for three days now because the weather is preventing the planes from landing. Everyone with whom I have come into contact gone out of their way to help me! These are not people with whom I am doing a project; for the most part, they don't even know why I am here! The staff at David's Kitchen and the Clover hotel who nightly (and sometimes many times nightly) had to reboot the internet connection so I could work at 3:30 a.m.; the wonderful young lady at the front desk who helped me place calls, suggested other hotels when hers was full, found me a taxi driver for the week--all I needed to do was ask and someone was phoning a brother or cousin to ask something or offering to take me where I needed to go. When I couldn't fly out to meet the group from the Good Shepherd Lutheran church and I didn't have a phone number for the local pastor they were to meet, many calls and emails were placed on my behalf to assist me.

My taxi driver offered me his phone to call long distance to Hyderabad then spent the rest of the trip phoning all his contacts to find me a hotel room (which is becoming harder and harder to find every day the planes don't fly). Shop keepers, egg roll makers, bank tellers and managers, and the very patient ticket agent at the airport have all been very kind to me, never asking for anything and refusing my offers of compensation. I am not so naive as to think that everyone is nice and that no one will take advantage of me, but the level of support has been amazing.

I would like to say a HUGE thank you to all the people who have gone out of their way to help me. It is truly the people that make the difference in this world, and to quote my mother, "You have to decide if you want to be part of the problem, or part of the solution." I'm so glad we can work together for solutions.

Gridlock on the Aizawl-Champai Highway

2009-11-15T08:44:00.000-08:00

Well, I am writing this blog from the side of the road as negotiations regarding the rights and wrongs of the two drivers involved in this road accident take place. Now, before I go any further you should know that everyone is just fine. One thing about never getting faster than 20 km/h is that, if you can keep the car on the road, you will survive.

You see, on my trip back to Aizawl, the sumo I was travelling in met a very large truck coming around a tight corner, and everyone came to an abrupt stop just 3 feet apart . After backing up to a pull out, the truck went around us and all was right with the world. Three corners later, we met another truck and we came to another abrupt stop, but the truck did not. The driver tried to go around us but missed. I mean, he missed going around us and therefore, hit us!

This brought the entire highway to a halt as the negotiations began about who was at fault and who should pay. Next came the phone calls to the police--like we were going to get cell phone reception and wait 6 hours for a policeman to drive out from Aizawl! I assumed (correctly) that this was mere posturing. One could not argue about who was over the center line as there is no center line. Heck, there is barely one lane! I thought about getting out my tape measure, then thought better of it and minded my own business for a change. Thirty minutes later some arrangement was reached and we carried on.
Another hour down the road and the drive came to a quick stop again--this time to look at the site of the bus crash yesterday. As I got out of the car and looked over the edge, my stomach made a rush for my throat. They explained to me that it was a school bus that crashed, but I could not see it in the bottom of the ravine. I can't believe that anyone could survive such a trip, but apparently only one child died. We drove around to the other side of the ravine, and I took this picture. I was never able to see the bottom of the plunge nor the bus wreckage. What a terrible tragedy for this community already in mourning!
I am finishing this blog from the comfort and safety of my room in Aizawl. Don't think I don't know how lucky I am to have made it here in one piece. Before I left I had a colleague warning me about snakes and bad water and such, which is all good advice, but by far the most dangerous thing I face is the road! At least no one was shooting at us as we drove along the road like in Guatemala, right Rob? Tomorrow will be tame by comparison. I only have to navigate the Indian banking system.

Let me say again how sorry I am that this community has had such a terrible week. My heart goes out to you all.

Not A Good Night

2009-11-13T06:05:00.000-08:00

"God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow, nor crying, neither shall there be any more pain." Revelation 21:4

When I walked up to the computer training center this morning, I saw many of the stores near the CCIT closed. When I entered the CCIT, the number of students was greatly reduced from the day before. Grace said that many of students were up all night so they would not be in class this morning. It turns out that the day before, not one but two busses on two different roads went over the edge of the cliff killing many and sending many more to the hospital. I can’t believe anyone survived going over the edge of these mountains, though I am very happy that some did.

By 9 am the road in front of the house of the family that lost a member the night before was lined with people . Grace informed me that the young people will come in the evening and sing for the next three nights. I am amazed at the response from this community during this terrible time. I have always believed that the true nature of a person, community, or leader often reveals itself during a time of crisis. It made me think of the number of times I didn’t go to a funeral because it conflicted with a class or a meeting. I have never closed my business for the day to sit on the front lawn of a family in grief. I don’t think I have even taken lasagna to someone in mourning.

My heart goes out the families and friends that suffered such a great loss yesterday. To quote a friend of mine: “We are different, and yet we are the same.” Loss is loss regardless of where we are in the world, but how we show our support for our neighbors differ. Maybe I will go and sing tonight. Or perhaps I will just hum along...

I Love It When A Plan Comes Together

2009-11-12T19:55:00.000-08:00

Sleep eludes me at the appropriate time but won’t leave me alone when it should. I woke up very early in the morning yesterday and lay there trying to will myself back to sleep. When that failed, I went out on my balcony and watched the sun rise over a mist-filled valley while eating fresh bananas--time to reflect on my current trip to India to review and evaluate progress on the projects A Better World is looking at in this region.

Yesterday, I visited the clinic construction site at Zowkathar. It is a 2-hour drive which seems like too much after the 7-hour drive of the day before. I am enjoying the road this time, though. I just pretend that I am in a road rally race, and the trip becomes an exciting adventure instead of a kidney jarring, butt numbing trip. I do marvel at the skill of the drivers on the road. They know exactly where the corners of their vehicles are.

Coming over the crest of the last hill going into Zowkathar, the clinic is very visible with its shiny new roof. I would take a picture, but the Sumo (like a Land Rover) is bucking so badly I know I will never get the shot. ( I cheated and had the driver stop on the way home for this picture.) The road into the clinic is closed while they construct a culvert over a stream; the goat trail we drove down was a challenge for the Sumo to, say the least, but we arrived in one piece.

The structural components of the building are all completed, the floor is poured, and even the roof is on. Interior walls are made of brick and then plastered over for a smooth finish. All the interior walls are started, and about 15 men were working on them when we arrived.

The workmanship is very good, and the materials are great, too! The process is very manual. Even sifting sand is done by hand. The foreman helped me measure the building and answered all my questions through a translator. His crew is working 7 days a week, but I guess there is not much else to do in Zowkathar. It reminds me of my jug hound days on Melville Island. Best of all, the contractor has no outstanding issues and the project is on budget! I love it when a plan comes together!

Once a Teacher, Always a Teacher

2009-10-02T21:27:00.000-07:00

Teach a man to fish and he eats for a lifetime. It's not quite that simple; you still need some gear and a well-stocked body of water, but, without the teaching part, you end up watching the fish jump while you try to get the hook out of your finger.

As most of you know I am spending more than my usual amount of time working with A Better World during this year away from Olds College. This summer my work with them took me to northeast India on the Burma border. I visited the Champai Institute of Technology--9 computers on the second floor of a building that doubles as a house and store. Computer skills are in high demand in that part of the world, but schools are not in a position to provide computer training and there are very few individuals with a computer. Businesses are finding that they need computers for the same reasons our businesses need them. Their government is trying to promote computer training; they have written curriculum and sponsored tuition for training centers. I viewed the government created curriculum and was impressed at the realistic examples it gave and practical skills it develops.

Grace Lalrinhlui, a refugee from Burma and now principal of the Champai Computer Institute of Technology (CCIT), is trying to get training to the low income people of her community. She currently trains a few orphans in her spare time, no questions asked, but she would like to do more. The CCIT offers a 6-month course in office software. The course runs one hour a day, 5 days a week. Grace acts as a mentor for the students as they work through the self directed learning.

The advantage to this format is that students can pick an hour a day that works with their schedule. Some come in the morning after they get their children off to school while others come in the middle of the afternoon between the lunch rush and the supper rush. It makes for a long day for Grace, but she is happy to do it because she recognizes the need. And as far as the facilities are concerned, I was very impressed. Everything was clean and organized, and there was even a suggestion box--the only suggestion box I saw in all of India. Without question, there is the capacity for much greater use of the facilities than is now happening.

I am working with Grace to find sponsors to pay tuition for students from the low income group. To these people, an office job would be out of the question simply because of a lack of education. On the job training is not common. I guess when you have a billion people to choose from, you can be fussy. But a small investment in someone can radically change their life and the lives of their family. Grace knows this because it was a helping hand from a local person that made it possible for her to run the CCIT. She is highly motivated to make the business work because she is uses the proceeds to put her four brothers and sisters through school.

Education provides opportunity. Often family members will pool their resources to send one member to school in the hope that they will all benefit from the training. When families simply do not have even the resources to do that, the whole family is destined to remain in poverty. In the case of a refugee population, the chances are even worst. So, you ask, what would it take to give someone six months of computer training, and a chance a better life? I had to have Grace tell me twice, then write it down because I was sure the number was lost in translation: $150.00 Canadian dollars!

The teacher in me started to claw his way out! Would she be willing to incorporate monthly reporting by each sponsored student into the assignments? Yes! Could they set up a Gmail account and IM with me as an assignment? Yes! Could we track them after leaving the training to assess the effectiveness? Yes! I have been in contact regularly with Grace since the trip. That is the great thing about working with a computer teacher--communication is easy!

I have put a proposal forward to ABW to sponsor 20 students from low income families this year. I am going back to India early this winter to check on a clinic being constructed in that area, and I would love to have the funds to meet 20 new students while I am there.

I had the good fortune to hear the Dalai Lama speak not once but twice this week. His message of changing the world through compassion and nonviolence rings true to me, as does his message about the importance of education. I believe this project could, in a small way, lead to a better world! I don't like to solicit funds through this blog, but, if you are interested in getting involved, please contact me, and I will give you more details (This would be a great project for an IT department to get involved with). Geeks, unite! Your time is at hand!

Zadou - the Wild, Wild West

2009-08-31T08:12:00.000-07:00

My first impression of Zadou two years ago is that I had been transported into the wild, wild west. I expected to see a gun slinger coming out of the tavern at any second. Zadou is still much like that, but it has grown, too. There are new buildings and cranes everywhere! We arrived late at night in a rain storm, so we were very glad when a passerby stopped to pick us up and deliver us to a hotel. The next morning I was greeted by the above view from my window.
Peng was great to travel with; I could not have made the trip without him! He found us breakfast and a cab for the day and even a cell phone charger. After a filling meal, we went out to the school run by the Rimpoche. Much was the same as when I left 2 years ago, the kids were still smiling, and the grass was still green. Some things have changed: there are more tents housing more foreigners than before, the buildings are all completed and wearing colorful paint, and the school building was decorated for the 5th aniversery celebration.

The well we completed two years ago is producing ample water, though I wish it was housed properly to prevent contamination. The green house is functioning, but the students need encouragement to eat green things which are not part of their diet normally. (What kid likes vegetables anyway?) There is now power to the complex, and this will relieve much of the difficulties for refrigeration and lighting. The basketball court is paved, not gravel, this year, and it appears to be very well used. Great to see!
The new hospital is about 90% done. It is very big! It was great to get a tour of it with the Rimpoche and everyone. From the road one would never know a building this big was being built! After the tour, we had a wonderful lunch at the Rimopche's house. Peng was very happy to meet him and to see all the great things he is doing for the people of the area. I was glad to see things moving forward and the town of Zadou moving from the wild, wild west into a more mainstream town.

Ringing True

2009-08-21T18:16:00.000-07:00

Know also that wisdom is sweet to your soul; if you find it, there is a future hope for you, and your hope will not be cut off. Prov. 24:14

My mothers words come rattling back to me at the oddest times. She would often say, “Every cloud has a silver lining,” and although I can’t say that this is always true in my experience, I figure that the least we can do is look for it. Rwanda was the blackest cloud I have ever experienced. I hate to keep mentioning the Rwanda trip in this blog, but, as you can guess by now, that trip was a very powerful experience for me. Although I won’t go in to the details now, I will just say that it took eight months of deep thinking, but I found the silver lining in that terribly black event.

Life is full of clouds in varying degrees of darkness. I just returned from the India/Burma border and the Tibetan high plateau, and God knows there are many clouds in the lives of the people living there. I am not suggesting that bad things happen to provide us with learning opportunities, but when bad things happen, the least we can do is try to learn something from them. Sometimes the best thing to come from a bad event is knowledge of what we can do to stop it from happening again.

So here is the jump (stay with me): I have never been one for jewelry. Many times jewelry is worn to improve our appearance, and, trust me, there is not a jeweller out there that could do much for me. Sometimes jewelry is worn as a sign of affluence; again, not something that interests me at all. Jewelry can also be worn as a sign, such as a wedding band or engagement ring. Not a bad idea, but there is another reason to wear jewelry, and that is as a reminder. I worked side by side for many years with an engineer who wore a small, discreet engineering ring made from the steel of a collapsed bridge. I learned that every engineer gets one as a reminder that no one is infallible. Although he taught for more than 30 years, he always wore that ring. I believe he wore it as a reminder.

In a little shop in Zadou, China there is a family who works forging silver into jewelry. In the middle of nowhere, this family make beautiful things to adorn the people of the valley. These people face clouds every day and keep on going. I promised myself that I would have them make me a simple silver ring as a reminder of what my mother said to me so long ago: "Every cloud has a silver lining." The older I get the more it rings true for me. In the face of adversity, I need to look at my ring, to look for the silver lining. I need to learn from the bad situation. I truly hope that the other members of the Rwanda trip who struggled so hard with what they saw can somehow find their silver lining.

Flashback to Guatemala

2009-08-18T10:04:00.000-07:00

The bus trip in

Guatemala

was the scariest of my life. It involved a con man, a very seedy end of town and, scariest of all, the repeated gunfire as we drove by some of the poorer areas of town. Those of you who know the story will be worried at the title of this blog, but you should know at the outset that if I can write and publish this story, I’M OK!

My current bus trip should have been about 20 hrs--24 hours on the outside--but as I type this, we are pushing past the 28 hour mark with no end in sight. We are in the process of climbing the steepest part of the trip and will pass though 16,500 feet (if we make it up!)

It seems that much of what could go wrong has, but we are still moving, so there is still hope. On the upside, we may not have to find a hotel tonight; we may still be on the bus! We have had a bad tire hump from the start, and I think that has slowed us on the parts of the road where we could have made time. The police have stopped us more than once, because of some bigwigs on the road or something. This made me nervous as we are not in the most stable part of China right now, and I’ve found that the presence of bigwigs tends to increase political instability. There has been no bombing or violence that I know of, but, as I reminded myself, there is always a first.

It happened as we were stopped by the police just outside of Yushu. I was quietly reading a spy novel (thanks to a donation from Ray) when a blast went off! I might be getting slower physically, but I am amazed at what my mind could process in a fraction of a second.

Sidebar: I wish you could see the slope and switchback we have just come up--truly like nothing I have ever seen since the last time I climbed this hill. Unfortunately, it is too dark for a picture. I bet Gareth knows the view of which I speak. Oh, I bet you want me to get back to the story...

I heard the blast and the shrapnel hitting the bus at the same time which meant, I reasoned, that the explosion was very close. A fraction of a second later, there was the sound of glass shattering, but not our glass. There was no smoke on my side of the bus, and my window was open wide enough to dive out of if need be. I noted clouds of smoke fifty feet away on the other side of the bus. My mind flashed back to Guatemala: If this was a roadside bomb, would there be gunfire to follow? If I was a gunner aiming to kill, I would not want to be on the bomb side of the bus; I would be on the other side, the side people would be fleeing to. MY SIDE! I opted not to jump out the window.

The smoke cleared and no gunfire ensued. I learned that very large wheeled loader on the edge of the road had ruptured a rear tire on the side facing us. There was no bomb, just a very large tire. The shrapnel was rocks, and the breaking of glass was the rear window of a cab just ahead of us. I think I need to read a different type of book, Ray, or maybe…

Not All Seats Are Created Equal

2009-08-16T20:28:00.000-07:00

I am, I think, on my sixth flight (on four different airlines) in three days, and I now feel qualified to assert that all airline seats are definitely not created equal! And I am not just talking about the dimensions of the seat, the construction of the headrest, or the entertainment system that may or may not be in the back of the seat ahead of you. There is so much more to consider when thinking of airplane comfort. There are the cabin layout/seat location/seat mate variables to include, too. Let's start with the physical seat itself. The seats on Kingfisher Air, even on the little prop plane on which we flew, were of supple leather and had ample lumbar support. There was no video entertainment, but the flight was only an hour and a half and the scenery was spectacular out the window, so who needs TV? Jet Airways also had great seats with ample support and a headrest that wrapped around and cradled your ears in soothing fashion. The in-seat entertainment worked flawlessly and contained many options from jazz radio to Hollywood movies. Air Canada, however, had seats too narrow for an anorexic headed to an intervention, the headrests forced your head to loll from side to side like a drunken sailor, the entertainment system wouldn’t run for more than twenty minutes, and the rows are so close together that my knees and chin are now void of hair from rubbing on each other.

The cabin layout is also important. On the widebodies you can have a 2-4-2 or a 3-3-3, or in the tail you may have the 2-3-2 layout. I have always tried for aisle seat, and on day flights I still prefer it, but I don’t pee often (so I am not climbing over seatmates) and I don’t get up and roam around much (they frown on that now), so on night flights I try for a window. I like the 2-3-2 option best, and try for the 2 part--either aisle or window.

Location in the cabin is also important. Near the front and you are the last on-first off--great if you have a short connection. You also breathe the freshest, but hottest!, air. I find I am always hot on a plane, even when I only wear my Speedo, (this gets me through security quickly) so I prefer the back. The air is cooler, especially if you are next to the bathroom, because every time someone flushes it suchs a huge amount of air out. The other big advantage to the back of the cabin seat choice is the gossip that the flight attendants tell each other as they stand in the galley not helping people. It has been my experience that in the areas of both quality and quantity of gossip, Air Casnada wins hands down. Part of the reason may be that they have the most experienced flight attendents in the industry; I recently overheard two of them discussing what great guys Orville and Wilbur were.

The seat mate/s you end up with are always the wildcard when traveling. I have to say I have had them all. Screaming baby, puking student (all the way to Beijing once), the sleeper, the talker, and when you travel with Ray, the snorer. On this trip to China, I was pleasantly surprised to have no seatmates at all! Even better, in the row just ahead of me sat a young doctor going to an agricultural finance conference in Beijing. She was from Poland, raised in Germany, and working at the university in San Fransisco. She spent the perfect amount of time turned around discussing the state of agriculture and the rest of the time letting me sleep. It was delightful to hear a young, naive, enthusiastic person's perspective for a change. I would tell you her name, but it was polish, and I couldn’t say it, let alone spell it!
...
Now I am in a whole different type of seat: a seat on a sleeper bus, my home for the next 24 hours. The “seat” is too flat to sit up and too slanted to lay down. But that is a whole other story yet to come. Keep me in your prayers!

Now You See Me; Now You Don't

2009-08-14T08:24:00.000-07:00

Life is getting to be a bit of a blur, so I apologize if I mix up the order of things in this blog. I am sitting on a plane right now with no access to the internet, and I have cut back on my technology to my little laptop, so I can’t look at the blog off line. Ok, I will quit making excuses and start writing.

The last time I had an internet connection and any time to blog was Aizawl, city on the edge. I had no connection in Kolkutta, and by the time I hit London, I had internet but no brain. Hope the emails I sent out made sense. The 3 hours I spent conscious with my family last night, I did not want to spend on the computer, so no blog then, either....Ok, I promise I will start writing something useful-ish now. (Perhaps my editor will just cut all this preliminary rambling out).

Kolcutta. What can I say? We finished our work in the countryside a day early and hoped to get back home a day early. It was not to be, but at least we spent the day in Kolkutta, not Aizawl. One never knows if you will get out of Aizawl because of the mudslides on the way to the airport and the cloud at the airport. We had rain every afternoon, and if it socks in they don’t fly. At all. Period. Once I was over the disappointment of not getting home a day early, I was able to take in what Kolkutta has to offer: heat, humidity, garbage, and the crush of people all trying to make a living for their families. I don’t think there is much of a safety net, so it is be successful, or die.

We stayed in a small hotel (5 rooms) on the 4th floor of a shopping complex. You could get there by elevator--the smallest I have ever seen--or 4 flights of uneven stairs. I felt safer on the stairs. The up-side was that the rooms were clean and not bug infested like the rooms in Champhai. As a bonus, they had A/C of sorts! This is a good thing, because I think I would have evaporated without it. At one point during the taxi ride, I had to ask Dr. Ray if a person could die just sitting in the heat of the cab. He didn’t answer, but the smell indicated that perhaps a recent customer had.

We went shopping in the medical supply district. Getting there was a 1.5 hour negotiation followed by a 1 hour cab ride. I am not sure we would ever have made it had we not met an English speaking teacher who knew the area. He instructed the cab driver, then came most of the way with us. This was a great example of a symbiotic relationship. We got were we needed to go with pleasant conversation, and he got a free cab ride instead of having to take the bus.

Dr. Ray was like a kid in the candy store, and I was like my wife in a model airplane store. It was fun watching him barter. He may cheaper than I, but he could still use a few pointers. We found some great shops, including one that has an on-line store. On the streets outside, the human crush carries on. Venders selling food, coffee, or seeds. Beggars sitting on the sidewalk, and disabled people on the street trying to get something, anything, from passersby. It is quite a contrast to be in a store selling portable ultrasound machines and 4 feet further, on the street outside the door, see a woman sliding along the street on her bum, holding up her leg with her foot on backwards. That is Kulcutta in a nutshell, the definition of contrast.

Is that You Ray?

We had a little fun on the flight back to Canada. Dr. Ray wanted to learn how to do video editing. With nine hours to kill, and the Air Canada back-of -the-seat entertainment system not working -again – I thought, "Why not? School is in." We were not able to download his camera, but I had a few video clips of Corine playing soccer in Bolivia to work with. We were in the very last row, so the flight attendants were hanging around behind us. One asked what we were doing and I said that Ray was producing his first movie. Somehow they thought he was a real movie producer, and all of a sudden the service improved for us. Things got clarified later in the flight, but we had a good 5 hours of fun before. It does say something about societal values when you consider that the flight attendant was much more interested in meeting a first time movie producer than a doctor doing humanitarian work. Oh well, we weren’t in the backwaters of India to impress a flight attendant anyway.
Thanks to Dr. Ray for yet another amazing experience.

I was home for fewer hours than my London layover, but it was really good to see most of my family. It is amazing how much laundry you can get done between 6PM and 2:30 AM. I lightened my load a bit for the second half of this journey: fewer clothes, only one computer, you know, nothing but the essentials. (Yes, that is a joke!) It was very hard to say goodbye this morning, I feel very lonely sitting on this plane by myself, very lonely indeed.
I am looking forward to coming home and going to the coast with my son, his first trip to the ocean. This year off is not going as I had planned. New wrinkles, new challenges, new directions. As I look back over my life, though, I realize that it has never gone as I had planned. Perhaps it is a little too much like the road to Aizawl. I have always tended to steer away from the safe back roads like my birthplace, Saskatchewan, and tended to steer towards the road to Aizawl. It may never be dull for me, but it can be difficult to sit next to someone through the twists and turns, the ups and downs, the rough patches, the washed out bits and the reconstruction. I look forward to some of my kids buckling up beside me at some point this year. The road is best shared with others.

"Every valley shall be filled in, every
mountain and hill made low.
The crooked roads shall become straight,
the rough ways smooth." (Luke 3:5)

On the Road Again

2009-08-10T11:56:00.000-07:00

Friday, Aug.7, 2009 - We left Aizawl at 4 am today to beat an impending taxi strike that was called off anyway. I think Ray had Rama make the story up just so we could beat the traffic, and we did. Aizawl at 4 am is a very different place than it is during the day--almost eerie. It was still very beautiful, a sight like none I have ever seen! As the sun started to come up, you could see the mist in the valleys and clouds wrapped around the mountaintops.

We passed through many little villages on the way. The villages get an early start on the day, and there is always something interesting going on. Can you imagine Sears delivering your fridge like this? We stopped a few times for food or to talk with the drivers coming the other way. At one market where we stopped, there was produce for sale but the people were in the field already so they just carved the price in the melon and left a jar on the table. Rama has been very kind in being our guide and cultural interpreter. I don’t know what we would have done without him.

The road itself is in not bad shape, for the most part. Sometimes landslides mess it up pretty badly, but we made it through. The issue is that the route chosen for the road is definitely the long way around! It continually goes up and down and left and right, and often it seems to do all four things simultaneously! I mean, people pay money for a ride like this at Disneyworld! It is a bit like riding Space Mountain for 7 hours straight!

The scenery makes the ride! Lush green jungle on unbelievably steep slopes; incredible waterfalls cascading through the jungle, erupting into a clearing, then crashing back into the jungle disappearing from sight. I was truly impressed with the views. I can think of few places that have such low population density. This is truly rugged, uncharted country.

I can’t imagine building this road in the first place let alone maintaining it, but they do. We met a patching paving crew that was resurfacing the road. The gravel is made by breaking rocks with a hammer, and the tar is heated and mixed with the gravel at the side of the road in wood fired containers. Many new bridges are under construction, which is good, because some of the old ones are bloody scary!

We made it to Champi to a very warm welcome, and then went straight to bed! Tomorrow will be a busy day!

Saturday, Aug. 8, 2009 – As I suspected, it was a very busy day! I haven’t been eating or sleeping much the last couple of days. The up side for Ray is that he has gotten to eat most of my meals. I decided last night that, although I didn’t know if my malaise was jet lag, motion sickness, or bad water, today was going to be a very busy day and that I needed a good night's sleep. Contrary to my lifestyle at home, my motto on the road is, “A better life through pharmaceuticals,” so I drugged up with anything I thought might help and got a solid 8 hours of sleep and an appetite by morning. Ray, on the other hand, didn’t have a solid anything all night. The up side for me was I got to eat his breakfast, too! It all evens out in the end. (Ray drugged up right away and was fine by the end of the day)

After breakfast, we met with No Kap, the engineer, and the contractor. The engineer is a young man (funny how there are so many more young people these days?) with great English and a solid working knowledge of the project. We discussed the budget (sharpened the pencil more than once), the time lines, but mostly we discussed my expectations of their roles and responsibilities. We looked at the contractor’s credentials and some of his work, including the guest lodge we were staying at. We altered some construction techniques specified by the engineer to make the contractor’s job easier in such a remote place. But most importantly, we made the decisions together, in the same room, at the same time, with all concerned present! The cheap Scotchman in me was very proud! Look out, Will Smit; I just about qualify to be Dutch!

We drove to Zowkathar, and I got my first look at the site. This is a very beautiful valley with the river and the steep hill. Burma is on the other side, and the crossing is quite busy. We met the entire membership of the various committees and then proceeded down to the site for a sod turning ceremony.

It was very hot, but not too hot to have speeches and photos. I got a much better sense of the size of the lot and the lay of the land. The site will be very beautiful when the building is up and there are some trees planted for shade. Maybe we should plant fruit trees and pineapples on the site so there is always fresh juice to drink?

After the sod turning, we went up to the current clinic for tea and a meeting with the building committee. I tried to be very clear about our expectations and their role. It was great to have the engineer and the contractor at the meeting so everyone could hear the same message. The building committee would like to have had final say on all decision, but I pointed out that they could make all the decisions they wanted to pay for, but if I was responsible for the money, I would be making the final decision based on their input. This puts me in the role of “bad guy” (Ray says I am very good at it) but takes a huge amount of pressure off a few committee members that were being lobbied hard by various factions in the community.

My only personal goal on this trip was to enter Burma. Today, I set foot in Burma and made it back again! I asked the engineer to take a picture of me coming back from Burma (no sense taking a picture of me just before I was shot!), so here I am successfully re-entering India, one foot in Burma, one foot In India--the first step to coming home.

Sunday, Aug. 9, 2009

I have a guest blogger today. So without any further ado, here is Dr. Ray Comeau

Hi out there in blogland.

Gord has graciously invited me to blog on his site so here goes. The most notable and bizarre thing that has happened to me in the past 24 hours occurred last night at about 1:30 AM.

As you know we are in a very remote area of Northeast India on the India-Burma border. We are staying in flea-bag hotels and often get up close and personal with various members of the insect family. You can image my surprise last night when I flicked on the bathroom light to find the toilet virtually crawling with ants. They were stacked so thick on the porcelain that the rim of the toilet was black. The entire basin was alive with seething masses of the crawling insects.

The first thing that flashed into my mind was that freaky movie about the white guy in Africa that gets attacked and eaten by the army ants. Not wanting to suffer the same fate, I frantically grabbed a bucket of water that was left over from my bucket shower and began dousing the toilet and bathroom with wave after wave of cold water. Preoccupied by the task at hand, I failed to notice the ants that were crawling up my leg until one of them sank his teeth into my calf. Suddenly I realized that I was personally under attack. Frantically I began dousing my legs and the rest of my body as well.

By the time the fiasco was over, the entire bathroom and I were both soaked but ant free.

Content that I had cheated a painful death, I returned to my bed for another fitful sleep.

Thanks Ray. Perhaps the moral of this story is “Always Flush”

My day was not as exciting, but very busy again. Rama met me this morning to take me to 3 potential projects. We started at his school halfway up the hill. The school building is leaning downhill precariously. The wooden posts that hold the building up are rotting. This building is beyond repair. This 21-year-old building needs to be pulled down and replaced.

The funny part about the day was the transportation. Rama picked me up on his Honda 225cc bike! We gave the suspension a huge work out, not to mention the little 225cc engine. Rama dubbed us John Wayne and Jackie Chan. I am sure we were quite a picture climbing the very steep hills of Champhai!

We visited a computer training school and then drove down the long hill to the flats. Although we made the bike work very hard to get up the hill, Rama never even turned the bike on until we got to the rice patties.

The third project site we visited was Pine Hill Academy, the school that Rama attended as a child. There is no shortage of need here, I can tell you!. The dorms are leaking. The floors are crumbled in the classrooms. The foundations are failing. I was hosted to a wonderful lunch including some great chapatis! We made it back to the hotel with out incident. Back on the roller coaster highway tomorrow morning

Completely off topic, does anybody know about a singer named Lily Allen?

Aizawal - City on the Edge

2009-08-09T18:28:00.000-07:00

In preparation for this trip, I viewed the area on Google Earth. The airport is not near the city of Aizawl; it is about 1 hour away. Flights in and out are a bit sketchy as the airport is on top of a mountain surrounded by taller mountains, and the weather is variable at best. All the Google Earth preparations could not prepare me for the real experience. This is the most spectacular runway/airport location I have ever seen, and I am a plane junkie. This is the rainy season,so the jungle is lush and green, the mountains seem to defy gravity with their steep slopes, and the vegetation seems glued to the surface of the mountains. The pilot skillfully spiraled down into the airport and gently settled the aircraft onto the runway. Even at this high altitude, we hit the tarmac to a sweltering 31 degrees.

Rama met us, helped with the paperwork, and led us to our car. We started off for Aizawl on roads that are very narrow and twisted but in pretty good shape compared to Saskatchewan, for instance. It is important to have a good driver, and it seems that we do, thankfully. The traffic is like a ballet. I don't know who is doing the choreography, but all the dancers all seem to know their part. I thought I was getting pretty good at foreign traffic, but on my first time out of the car I got clipped by a mirror. It's a good thing that no one here drives faster than a brisk walk and that I am bigger than most cars on the road, but it was still a good reminder to me to watch my step.
As we rounded a bend, Ray pointed across the valley at Aizawl. My first impression was that it looked like someone poured Lego blocks on a rock pile, but, in fact, those blocks were houses stuck to the impossibly steep slopes. Roads are carved into the side of the mountain, then houses line the downhill side of the road. The houses are built on long concrete pilings that are anchored 30 or 40 feet below on the cliff's edge. I can honestly say I have never seem anything like it! The pictures just don't do it justice.
Other than the fact that everything is hanging on a cliff, Aizawl is like many other remote cities I have visited. I love the little shops lining the street, the markets, the vender's and the people. These people are very friendly but polite at the same time. The school children walk by in uniforms. The tiny taxis honk as they creep by loaded with an impossible number of passengers. Two young men run by carrying a 20 foot length of electrical conduit. Shop owners set buckets out to collect the water pouring off the roof as a cloud burst drenches the street. Smells of curry and open cooking fires fill the air.

I feel comfortable and safe, and I am really enjoying learning about yet another corner of our world. This is my first visit to the part of the world, but I bet it won't be my last! I might have to talk to Carole about extending my leave. I suspect you won't hear from me for a week or so now, so, until we connect again, enjoy what you have and love those close to you.

I Thought this Airport had A/C?

2009-08-05T19:04:00.000-07:00

I have now officially lost not only my luggage but also my sense of time and place. As I sit here (where?) in the airport, I am pretty sure it is morning, but I don’t have a clue what morning. The reason I think it is morning is because we had a bed to sleep in last night and a shower upon waking! Of course, following my shower, I had to get back into the clothes I put on when I left Canada, but it is not so bad. Turn your underwear inside out, hang your shirt under the fan all night and everything is just about like new. Before you start to feel too sorry for me, I have to admit that I do have a change of clothes, but if they can't get my bag to me, I don’t want to use my clean clothes up just yet. It is a bit like the good plywood in a stack in the barn: I don’t want to use the good stuff on this project because what if I need it later?
We spent many hours in the terminal of the Delhi airport yesterday. When we first went inside, I thought that there was air conditioning, but as the day worn on I concluded that there was not. I admit, I was distracted because I got an internet signal and spent most of the day writing and facebooking (looking at pictures of the hail that tore through our yard shortly after I left. That was my fault by the way, I said on the way to the airport how we had not had a good storm yet this year. )
By the time we went to the gate to board the plane, I was sure there was no A/C in the terminal. This airport has you get on a bus that drives you across the tarmac to the plane. As I walked out the door of the airport to board the bus, a wall of superheated air hit me like a truck. I was wrong! The terminal was most definitely air conditioned! Willing myself to breathe, I made it to the bus and onto the plane. As we landed in Kolkata in the dark, the pilot announced that the temperature was 37 degrees. I said to myself, “impossible,” but again I was wrong.

I spent another hour this morning trying to determine if I will ever see my bag again. I must say that everyone I have dealt with has been very professional and pleasant--a comment I cannot make about the service sector in every country in which I have been . As I think back on this experience so far, I think it is the people that stand out so far. Very polite, friendly and courteous, even if the job they have to do seems completely unnecessary!

2009-08-04T19:37:00.000-07:00

We left London on time with a fairly full aircraft. Ray managed to find three empty seats in the middle, though, and I think he slept the whole way. Jet Airways has a great new fleet! We are on a Boeing 777 with very comfortable seats. I even got some good sleep on this flight!
I awoke this morning to find some very rugged, very dry scenery below us. No roads, no houses, no trees, just rocky peaks. I quickly found the GPS and determined that we were very near Kabul, Afghanistan. Pardon me for saying so, but there doesn’t seem like much to fight for. And worse yet, it doesn't look like there is anywhere to hide!

The scenery didn't change much until we reached Delhi. There the airport was hot and old, but most significantly and worst of all, the airport did not have my bag! Five hours later, it still did not have my bag, but the paperwork was done! For some reason, I had put more in my carry-on bag this trip than I ever had before, so I am in pretty good shape. Mostly missing clothes, it seems, but I can wear one outfit for a week, I am sure, especially if everyone else smells bad!

The domestic terminal we are flying out of is very new and has wireless!!! So that is why I can make this post. Ray coerced a free meal out of them for the inconvenience of losing my bag, so we had a great sandwich and, later, an Indian pizza. I switched into teacher mode again and gave a quick lesson to Ray about Facebook and linking. He will surely be sick of me by the time we get home! I keep forgetting that just because I love something, it doesn't mean everyone does! Well I better get ready for the next flight. Another sixhours and I may get to see a bed if the hotel isn't full.

Odour-ifically yours,

Gordon

Men and Machines

2009-08-03T11:21:00.000-07:00

"Wisdom is better than weapons of war..."

Ecclesiastes 9:18

We had a 9 hour stop-over in London today--just long enough to take the tube into the city and have a great lunch with my sister. She took Ray and I to a very comfortable room, and we had very identifiable and delicious sandwiches for lunch. Identifiable is important, as this may be one of the last meals about which I can say that, at least for the next 5 weeks! After lunch, we walked through a bit of the city and then took the tube to the British war museum.

There were airplanes hanging from the ceiling as we walked through the door, so I was interested right away. The spitfire was front and center. If asked, I always say that this is my favorite WWII aircraft, but secrectly I like the Zero best. They only had a piece of the Zero at the museum.

The German Folkwolf was also hanging there as was a Mustang and many other weapons of human destruction. Ray knew very little about these aircraft, so I switched into teacher mode and was quite happy talking about these machines.

Near the end of the tour was a large exhibit about the holocaust. No machines in there; just row upon row of pictures of people, videos about the survivours, stories about those who did not servive (some six million in all), stats about who killed who and where, and maps...many maps that held no good memories for me. I could not make it through the exhibit. I had to leave. The story told there, unfortunatly, is not unique. Change the name and places, change the numbers and the maps, and that exhibit could be about too many other genocides of recent history. The thing that would not have to change would be the expressions on the faces of the men, women, and children in those pictures.
...
Well, we are back at the airport and about to board. Keep us in your thoughts.

Maps and Memories

2009-08-02T19:23:00.000-07:00

"Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear?

And don't you remember?" Mark 8:18

I love maps! I believe in maps! Maps give me comfort, but why? I am leaving for India today, so perhaps that is why when I woke up this morning and looked around my room I saw a common theme. I noticed, not for the first time, that my walls are covered with maps and memories. There are many more maps rolled up on my desk. Today, I started to wonder why some maps were rolled up and some were on the wall.

The map of Sri Lanka started it all for me. I found this map shortly after the tsunami, just before I travelled there for the first time. When I see the town of Pottuvil on the map, my minds sees the devastated beaches and the crushed homes, but I also see the smiling children and the adults rebuilding their lives. Other place names remind me of the trailer manufacturer, the elephants, the spicy road house, or the hydro dam we repaired the van fuel tank on. The map is a collection of triggers for my memory.

I have noticed, too, a strange mix of pieces on my walls (not that I know anything about feng shui or anything). There is a map of Rwanda next to my bed, and below it is a collection of butterflies from Bolivia. Rwanda showed me first hand the most evil that humans can be to each other. I still have nightmares about the genocide. I see babies smashed on the altar of a church, children thrown down the 30 ft deep latrines and stoned to death. I see rivers run red with the blood of thousands. It has been more than a year now, and the map is still there on my wall and the nightmares still come, but my Rwanda map is more than a map of bad memories. Rwanda is also about hope and rebirth. Rwanda taught me that we are all capable of unspeakable evil if we choose not to think for ourselves, if we allow other to think for us. Rwanda showed me that at the core of every human is humanity. We can choose between brutality or butterflies.

Not all memories need to be tied to a location. the little yellow star on my wall, colored as it was by a preschool child, could have been colored by my grandson, but it wasn't. It was colored by a Rwandan child, a child that hoped for exactly the same thing that the children of CERENID in Bolivia hope for. These are the same hopes and dreams that the Rhimpoche in Zadou is desperately trying to bring the children of the Tibetan high plateau. To quote a good friend of mine, "We are different, and yet we are all the same." My walls are not full yet, and I take that as a sign that I have much more to experience. I wonder what the map of India and Burma will have for me? I wonder what memories it will hold? I wonder when we will all learn to get along?

I will update this as often as I can but internet is sketchy at best, I hear.

Keep me in your prayers.

Eyes Wide Open

2009-05-15T19:20:00.000-07:00

Today started like many days: with a schedule of events that I knew we wouldn’t be able to follow. First up was a trip to the very large housewares market. This place makes West Edmonton mall look like a strip mall! We were in the market for about 2 hours and didn’t see half of it. A number of the group bought machetes while others were busy looking for DVDs.

We had hoped to visit the street kids, but it was looking like we would not have the chance. Apparently, there has been some recent aggression towards the street kids from the authorities, so there was some resistance to having a bunch of strangers meeting with them. During our time at the market, however, Maria Jose called to say that the board of Plataforma had agreed to let us go with the street workers to meet with some of the kids. This caused a quick but worthwhile schedule shift, so we ate lunch at a very American food court in the local Cineplex. What made it better was that I knew where to buy popcorn. I practiced my Spanish in order to make sure I got the largest size and with salt, not sugar. Brent came with me, and, as I approached the counter and made my order, the young lady giggled a bit. (I assumed it was because of Brent). Then she said, “Yes, sir. I speak English.” In the end, we got a huge box of movie theater grade salted popcorn to share with everyone. I made brownie points with Corinne if no one else.

After lunch, we met Maria Jose at the Plataforma office for a tour, then split into two groups to go into the streets. This experience was influential for all to say the least, but, for me, observing the reactions to the experience was more interesting than the experience itself. And this is where the travelogue ends; I am going to write about my observation of Brent’s reaction--partly because he said I could and partly because he was my student at the College, and I have watched him grow over the last two years.

When I was about Brent’s age, a friend of mine took me to the movie Apocalypse Now at the U of C. I was not used to war movies. They were not something my parents encouraged me to watch. I didn’t even like scary movies or horror shows. I was a bit worried about how I would react to the gore and violence, but I was not about to wuss-out in front of my friends. There certainly is no shortage of gore, violence and despair in the movie. It was quite an introduction to war movies for me! Although it was on a movie, I was seeing things that I had never seen before. By the time the water buffalo butchering scene rolled around, there was something odd going on in my head. I came to the realization that the horror was not in the gore and the violence presented on the screen in front of me. The true horror, I realized, was that people lived through all that. The true horror was not in those who died, but in those who did not die, in those who had to come back from the war and try to live with those who would never understand. Don’t get me wrong, all the lives lost during the war was a horrible thing, but this was the first time in my life that I had to consider the possibility that surviving may not be the best outcome, and that possibility flew in the face of all I had been taught and all that I believed. That experience forever changed my thought process, and it was only a movie! I believe that part of the reason the movie had such an impact on me is that I had little or no exposure to anything like that growing up. I had not been gradually desensitized to violence and gore, so what I saw did not fit the rules that my brain worked from. I had to choose either to disregard the experience or to change the rules I functioned from. Although I experienced sensory overload, I chose to rewire my thinking instead of shutting down or denying the event. This type of thing has happened to most of us at some point in our lives; some event causes us to reevaluate our beliefs or position.

For Brent this trip was full of new sights and experiences. One does not get to see parrots flying overhead when splashing about in the Bow river. Every time you looked at Brent, he had a grin on his face that you couldn’t knock of with a 2x4! I spent a lot of time observing his reactions and was very impressed with his ability to avoid snap judgments and to remain opened-minded (or at least quiet) about events until he had a chance to process them a bit. As the trip went on, he became more open with us about his observations, and I appreciated his perspective. I anticipated his reaction to the street kids, and I don’t think I was far off. Even though he had spent 6 days with the boys at CERENID and even though he had heard the stories of where they came from, nothing truly prepares you for the experience of standing in the drainage ditch they call home. The details of his experience are for him to tell, and perhaps he will comment on this blog and tell his side of the story, but his reaction to the event tells volumes about him as a person.

My role as a teacher is to create an environment for students to learn, not to dish out facts to memorize nor opinions to persuade. In the classroom, I set outcomes for students to work towards but do not prescribe a path they must follow. Some like to read. Some like to write. Most like to do. How they get there is not as important to me as getting there. I tried to create learning opportunities on this trip, but unlike in the classroom, I did not even set specific outcomes other than stimulating the mind. I would even be pleased if someone came back with the opinion that we should not be interfering with the people of Bolivia as long as that opinion was formed on solid thinking from a more educated perspective.

When Brent came back from the street, I could see a look in his eyes that I last saw in a mirror a year ago, a look I saw in the eyes of many of my travel companions in Rwanda. It was the look that said, “I just don’t know how to process what I just experienced.” The rules that Brent had built his life on were not able to explain the events he just witnessed. When we talked later that evening, I sensed that he had a willingness to rewrite his rules. It won’t happen overnight; it took me the better part of eight months to come to grips with Rwanda, and I am still not all the way there. But, I believe, that this event will reshape Brent forever. It was his willingness to see, not just look, that made this experience a life changing one. He travelled not only with his eyes open but with his eyes WIDE open. He seemed to know intuitively what I believe to be true: “An experience does not need to be a good experience to be a worthwhile experience.”

I don’t know what will become of this experience for Brent, but I am very proud of him (and others in our group) for allowing himself to let this trip change him.

Back to the Big City

2009-05-14T17:33:00.001-07:00

Well, we are off the big city today. The people of CERENID had a little going away ceremony. All the kids made little gifts for us, and CERENID gave each of us a T-shirt. All of the group experienced a sudden case of allergies or something, I think, because there was a lot of sniffling going on and there was not a dry eye in the house. There are some very big hearts in Bolivia. I am amazed at what they are willing to give, having so little.

I promised some of the crew that we would have lunch at the Burger King. It is surprising how you crave something not because it is good, but just because it is familiar. I took the opportunity to run across the park and see Jackie at he New Tribes Mission House. As it turned out, Marg and Jake were staying there, waiting for another family to come in. It is a small world! We checked back into the Suiza Hotel, and walked down town to the central plaza.

The rest of the day was spent down town shopping and looking. We had a great dinner at a place called Cafe 24--right off the square. There was talk of ice cream, but, after the meal, only Neil and Alicia had room for it. The group split up after dinner to go to the internet café or the art galleries or to go on a marathon hike led by Corinne and Lyle. Eventually everyone walked back home and retired to their respective rooms settling in for a good nights’ sleep.

Earth, Wind, and Fire

2009-05-14T17:31:00.000-07:00

Today was a work day after a long day of hiking yesterday. Some of the group went across the river to help harvest corn with Florencio. This involved tearing the ears from the stocks, shucking them, and then stomping the stocks to the ground. They made a dent in it, but there was still lots to do when the heat drove the group from the field. The white dots you see in the strip of harvested corn is piles of corn cobs.

I fixed the oblique camera trigger and made a second flight to get the pictures of the corn field and others. Brent did an excellent job of co-piloting, and the second flight was not as hairy as the first, but the wind was even stronger. I needed full throttle for just about the entire flight. Brent said that, for most of the flight, a bird followed us but did not attack. In addition to bird-spotting, Brent guided me in for a good landing, and we decided to quit while we were ahead.

In the afternoon, Jenna made cookies with Alfa house because Corinne, the scheduled cook, was feeling a little under the weather; it had to happen to someone at some point I guess. Corinne is a hard lady to keep down, however, and she painted doors all afternoon! Others in the group did electrical and plumbing in the renovated kitchen. Some of us built a new water valve for the kitchen. Crystal learned some new skills in plumbing, but became especially valuable when we needed someone to climb down into a muddy hole and bail out the water. She was a very good sport about it!

After a long day of work we gathered in the church to see a sample of the photos taken by our group. The kids love to see pictures of themselves! The people of LaHas came over as well, since there were many air photos of their community. After the slide show, we went outside for a great fireworks display sponsored by some of the contributions of Crystal’s officemates. The boys love fireworks, and it was a perfect end for our last night together.. It is too hot to sleep right now, so I am just swinging in the hammock for a bit. Till tomorrow.

Huh, It's Not a Dream

2009-05-14T16:39:00.000-07:00

First words out of Brent’s mouth this morning, "Huh, its not a dream". He is getting better at sleeping on the top bunk. Last night he never dropped his pillow or blanket, too bad there are only 2 sleeps left here at CERENID. Corinne is making popcorn for the hike today, we know what her comfort food is. Crystal dreamed that we met Brad Pit in Samaipata and then she and Michelle Obama became best friends as they raced speed boats down the Amazon river. I think the river reference was her allergies kicking in last night!

Juan did a front break cylinder this morning, he is a talented man! Lyle observed the process and commented that we are definitely not in Canada. It is a good thing that he did the brakes, because we drove to the fern forest today and the road was the scariest I have ever been on! It wound up one mountain, down another, then back up a third. Neil is not a fan of heights, and bailed out about three quarters of the way up the first mountain. We picked him up at the bottom on the way back.

The fern forest was a lot of walking if you were not a plant person, but for Wilma it was very cool! For the rest of us the scenery was very spectacular. They call it the cloud forest because the clouds continue to roll over the mountain peak. Brent took the GPS with him today so he could tell us that we started at about 1500 m and topped out at 2333m, I swear it felt like we walked more than that!

I am sitting in the central square in Samipatia right now writing this, by the time I will get to post it, I will be back in Santa Cruz, so I am sucking in the calmness of this place now while I can. I feel very much at peace when I am here, can’t explain why, but I do. We are off to a German smorgasbord and I have no doubt I will be far too full to write anything tonight so till tomorrow, peace be with you.

A Great Day!

2009-05-14T16:35:00.000-07:00

A day of trials and triumphs, ups and downs, great food and great fellowship. We drove to El Forte, well, most of the way to El Forte. The road into the fort gets progressively worst, so at some point, the lowest point, the bus had to stop. It is a 3.5km walk straight up, then another2 km around the summit. We had to pull some of the team up in the steep parts, but everyone made it to the top in the long run. The fort is very old and the complete history is still a mystery.

One of the interesting things is that the fort is so high up, a got cell service, the first time in 5 days. I received a text from home containing very good news, and was able to send a couple of texts to let everyone know we were alive and well. After we toured the site, we took a break for cookies and coke, the lunch of champions, then started down the hill.

We drove into Samipatia, the Banff of Bolivia, for a late lunch, some internet, the market and phone calls home. I posted a bunch of blogs, not easy when the interface is in Spanish, and I had to get my USB stick to interface with an antique computer. My we are spoiled!. we met in the park in the center of town were Jenna received a present from a bird above while relaxing on a bench, be careful where you sit!

For dinner we visited Latinas, a restaurant I have visited before. It was an incredible meal and everyone laughed and had a great time! Brent tried something new, and loved it. Corinne got her chocolate brownie fix, and there was even great coffee. The meal must haved been good because the whole group was quiet as a church mouse when the food arrived, the first time all day and it didn't last long. Jaun navigated the bus home in the dark with great skill, and, as I type from the hamock, almost everyone is asleep. Off to the fern Forest tomorrow, bye till then.

Water, Water Everywhere

2009-05-14T16:34:00.001-07:00

This morning, Brent the Spider Killer lived up to his name more than once while some of the group were cleaning up around a storage bin. The story is that one spider was so big that it fought him for the wrench, but Brent won in the end. Crystal and I were sent to the kitchen to help chop veggies. I cried the whole time; I was chopping onions. After the chopping, we went and helped repair roads by hauling broken brick and concrete from the yard up to the road. Brent and Neil drove a 4x4 with no 4-wheel-drive, limited clutch and no gauges.

After an early lunch we put 52 people into an 18-passenger bus and a truck and went to a set of waterfalls. The drive to the falls was beautiful. At one point we came around a corner to find a mansion with stunning landscaping out on a ridge.

The falls were awesome! It was great for the kids and the cooks to have an outing, and we all loved it as well. It had rained a bit in the morning (maybe misting is a better description), but the sun came out when we arrived and stayed out until we were ready to leave. The bottom of the river is all sand, so there was lots of burying of people and making sand castles. The water coming over the falls contained a lot of sand as well, so, when you stood under it, you would get a shower and the added bonus of an exfoliation. The water would just about knock you to your knees; I am glad the falls weren’t any higher! We came home for the start of Sabbath. As we were waiting for supper Martin, the monkey, came to visit us. Please enjoy the pictures below.
See you soon!

Up, Up and Away

2009-05-14T07:26:00.000-07:00

It was a busy day today! I am not sure what everyone else did this morning, because I spent the morning rebuilding my airplane (thanks to the friendly customs officers who unpacked my case and then just threw everything back in without securing anything!) When I finally sifted through all the pieces, I did find a note telling me that they checked the contents of my bag for security reasons and that they are not responsible for any damage to my lock. My lock??? I didn’t even have a lock! Three kinds of glue, two kinds of tape, some donor wood and an able-bodied assistant to hold and tape, and by noon she was ready to fly, sort of. She wasn’t as straight as when she left Canada, but I thought she might hold together.

Meanwhile, the rest of the group was slashing through jungle to map, working with the gardener, fixing tractors and generators, sweeping rooms and much, much more. Lyle started to work on the ignition system only to discover that the problem was that they lost the key! The local mechanic had a work-around that seemed to meet Lyle’s exacting standards. Neil wired in a bunch of light fixtures without getting electrocuted or falling off the ladder! The mapping team of Brent, Wilma, Alicia and Florencio walked and slashed their way through 11 km of jungle including 150m of vertical rise.

We all split up at lunch and ate with the boys in their houses. It is great to see them in a family setting. They all introduced themselves and told us their names. I always get a chuckle out of introducing myself because they can’t say Gordon; it comes out more like “gordo” which means fat. Even the house mother had to chuckle. I can’t believe how much those little boys can eat! A great soup, a sort of salad (tomatoes, pickled beets, and onions. Very good!) and then a big plate of rice, beans and peas. Even I could not finish my plate, gordo as I am!

After lunch, I took the plane up for pictures. It was the hairiest flight I have ever had. Not only was the plane out of trim and the takeoff and landing site very small, but the wind had come up and killer thermals filled the steep valley. I had my hands full just keeping it in the air let alone taking pictures. The thermals and slope winds flipped the entire 8 foot airplane over more than once. I was very thankful for the very large ailerons! In the end, I managed to get the plane back on the ground in one piece thanks in part to Brent, my co-pilot. He did you proud Murray.

In the afternoon we worked again on various projects. Lyle wired batteries with Wally.

Corrine made 150 cookies with the newest house of boys. She had to improvise because she couldn’t find baking powder. She used something--we don’t know what--and they where great!

Just before dinner we presented the bikes and balls to the families. This was followed by some great soccer and volley ball. Some of the group joined in: Neil in goal and Brent playing forward. Jenna, Corinne and Wilma were playing volleyball. Neil commented on how well the kids would sleep tonight with all that exercise. He promptly fell asleep to the sound of kids still playing.

The highlight of the day for me was the finding and capturing of a wild cuy. We gave Pequeno Gordo (little Gordo) a bath and a temporary home in the bottom of a new garbage can. He hung out with us for the day eating veggies and drinking vitamin C-spiked water. Later in the evening, Pequeno Gordo jumped out of his new home and went back into the jungle full and happy. I hope we meet again.

Coffee, Biting Ants and Bikes

2009-05-14T07:24:00.000-07:00

After a slow start, we headed into the mountains, and it did cool down. We stopped part way to buy some bikes with the money Crystal collected from her coworkers. We found some great little bikes and a patch kit for the tires. While we were away from the bus Jenna, Brent and others put on an impromptu circus for people on the street near the bus with the hula hoops and balls they purchased at a store nearby. When I returned, I heard a taxi driver muttering, “loco, loco, loco!” We loaded the bikes on the roof and off we went.

Next stop was “Gingers Paradise,” an organic farm/B&B/Craft-, Coffee-, and Chocolate-shop. We played in the river for a bit While the owner finished lunch, then he collected us and took us on a tour. He certainly has a holistic approach to everything. We talked microhydro, coffee, permaculture, and the need for biting ants. We saw the dry toilet (important for many in the group), a tree that makes soap, and finished up in the gift shop/bedroom/living room.

Back on the bus one more time, we arrived at the driveway to CERENID just before dark. I wondered how the bus would get down the driveway since we had to hike down the last time I was here. The road was improved somewhat, however, and with the skills of our excellent driver, Juan, we made it all the way. We received a warm welcome, unloaded most of the bus, settled into our great little house and met all the boys. It was beautifully cool so a good sleep was had by most.

Till tomorrow, keep us in your thoughts

Wilma's Day!

2009-05-14T07:23:00.001-07:00

cotton
Today we went to CIAT, an experimental farm that had a little of everything: fruit, crops, chickens, beef and even worms. Wilma’s eyes lit up as soon as she met the fruit expert, and they were swapping phone numbers and email addresses in no time--all professional, I can assure you. We had so many questions that the guides had to limit the questions at each stop. Wilma smiled the whole day, especially when she was digging for worms. We almost mistook her for Brent!

Corinne has hijacked the Blog for a paragraph:
Brent wanted to play some special Bolivian bingo……He was hoping to win big…..Lyle nearly had our
fairer sex taking a wild plunge into the sewer do meidio de streeto. Wilma and super Bugman have annihilated nearly all the Bolivian insectos, and now the birds are in danger of starving…..Bolivian toilet paper turns blue when it is wet…If we are cheap in Canada, we are cheap here …..No one is talking about bowel movements, yet, even if they plug Bolivian toilets

Ok, back to me. Next, we went to the sugar cane research station. The group had the opportunity to drink raw sugar cane juice. The bug people got to see the biological pest control lab where very small wasps are raised to control a moth that bores into the cane. We drove back through the cane fields, and Neil kept running beside the bus getting his picture taken in front of taller and taller canes.

Lunch back in Montero was late but good. We said good-bye to Zenon, Marg and Jake and headed into Santa Cruz. Neil and Alicia were very excited at the thought of getting their luggage back after LAN airlines finally located them. We were glad they got to change their underwear! Maria Jose had strong words with the airline and had bags delivered to the hotel. Our excellent driver, Juan, got us to the Suiza Hotel, this included crossing 4 lanes of rush hour traffic inside of one block. The hotel was great, very colorful bed spreads, and even a little pool, sort of.

We finished the day with a great meal in a sidewalk café and more laughter and blogging. Off to CERENID tomorrow--into the mountains and cooler temperatures, I hope.

Hide Your Money

2009-05-14T07:21:00.000-07:00

Today we started with a great breakfast in our hotel. We were served eggs and toast with fruit and yogurt. A hearty breakfast was in order because we were heading out to Zenon’s farm to “work” for the day. The great thing about teachers is that they love to talk. We did do some work, helped with the sheep de-worming, but mostly we learn a ton about how Zenon farms, after all this is an educational trip. The animal people seemed to love the time with Zenon, and we needed all 5 translators at one pointer or another. I think Neil, Corinne, and Alicia felt right at home, but Brent, Jenna, and Wilma Seem to find interesting things there too.

I got to see my favorite Bolivian things, Zenon’s cuy. I do love the idea of moving to Bolivia and raising Cuy, brings a whole new meaning to being a pig farmer. Zenon has a golden aguti boar that I remember from the first time I visited Zenon’s farm. I was looking for him, as I looked through the pens and, sure enough, in the second-to-last pen, there he was…looking bigger and fatter than before--so we have that in common.

Crystal stuck with it for most of the tour, but when the conversation turned to importing semen she decided it was time to set up her computer and do some writing. Personally, I think she just wanted to be closer to the lunch table. Before lunch, she had most of an article roughed out which is certainly more than I accomplished that morning.

One of the things I like best about Bolivia--though I am having a hard time getting used to it--is the two hour lunch. Zenon and his family were very hospitable and the food was amazing. There was no shortage of conversation albeit diverse and not what you would normally hear with company around the dining room table.

After a great day at the farm, we went to a familiar looking restaurant for fried chicken and hamburgers. Some of the group was missing dessert so, on the way back to the hotel, we stop off at a gelato store. Corinne decided to buy a pastry-looking thin g for us all to try and proceeded to dig through her money belt on the sidewalk. After being chastised by Jenna and others for flashing her cash in public, she said, “fine” and literally climbed under the tables to extract her bills. This sent the entire group into gales of laughter and caused many cameras to appear from nowhere. Everybody won; we got great dessert, blackmail-worthy photos and photos. A great way to end the day.

Until next time, keep us in your thoughts.

Spider Killer - Bolivian Super Hero

2009-05-13T14:27:00.000-07:00

Sunday

Lyle and crew got up early today to do more work on the seeder. After another great breakfast, we all went to church--the first service ever for one of our team. It was good to see Jhonny’s family again, including the newest member, Moises, who was born about a month after Jhonny died. We sang many songs and listened to a Spanish sermon. After the service, the community fed us a great meal.

When we returned to Hoogland’s, we finished the seeder and flipped it right-side-up while others packed and cleaned. We took one last trip to the river, and Lyle got to fulfill a fantasy of his: to quad in the jungle. (Funny how our fanta1sies change as we age. Or maybe we just become more realistic with our expectations!)

A vehicle never goes to town empty, and our bus was no exception. We picked up many locals with their kids and produce, including Jhonny’s mom. Crystal had brought a number of copies of the Messenger magazine that contained the article she wrote about Jhonny. Erselia, Jhonny’s mom, wanted Marg to translate the article for her. It must be very odd to read about your dead son in a magazine from a country half a world away. I am not sure how I would take that if it was my child. Do you feel honoured that someone so far away remembers your child, too, or do you just feel sad all over again?

Brent gained a reputation as a spider killer will he was still working on the seeder. He could kill just about any spider with his trusty wrench if he swung at it enough times. He earned the name Spider Killer - Bolivian Superhero! He also gained the reputation for sleeping very soundly anywhere, anytime. So, this afternoon when he fell asleep on the bus with his shirt open, someone who shall remain nameless used a Sharpie to draw a big S on his chest with a stylized spider. This took many minutes to complete with gales of laughter rolling through the vehicle the entire time. Our Bolivian guests howled along with us. Erselia laughed so hard she said her jaw hurt. Eventually Brent awoke, but it still took a few minutes for him to catch on to what everyone was laughing about. He may never have noticed his insignia if he had not had to wipe the drool off his chest. So now he is simply known as Spider Killer - Bolivian Superhero.

Bye for now

The Seedier Side of Bolivia

2009-05-13T14:24:00.001-07:00

Today started with the sun, parrots, and Jake’s great porridge! After a great breakfast and a much-needed coffee (thanks Marg!), Lyle started the assembly of the seeder with one group and another group started in the gardens. Both groups started with the same activity: the gardeners by digging out weeds and the rest of us by digging out seeder parts. I don’t know when Jake planted the seeder parts, but they did not germinate!

Before lunch, Jake took us on a plant tour. Corrine kept eating the plants, including the leaves full of arsenic! Jake stopped her from eating the leaves containing cyanide. There is a new rule for her now: ask before you eat. On the theme of food, lunch was very Bolivian and very good. It was the highlight of Brent’s day he said, and I believe it because the only picture he took all day was of lunch. We had my favorite, yuca frita, fried bananas and fresh fish from the river.

After lunch, Wilma, Jenna and Corinne when into the jungle to harvest peanuts. I tagged along to see the process and try my hand at peanut picking. Now, that is one more thing I don’t want to do for the rest of my life. The ladies did very well and showed up later in the afternoon with their harvest in hand. The peanuts were spread on a tarp to dry, and it was time to go back to the river to cool down and wash up. The group followed Wilma into the river; she went with a stick in hand, and so there was no biting incidents this time. We all washed our hair and walked home through the jungle in the waning evening light.

Goodbye for now. Keep us in your thoughts.

The Seedier Side of Bolivia

2009-05-13T14:24:00.000-07:00

Never Put Your Feet Down

2009-05-13T14:21:00.000-07:00

The flight from Miami was, for the most part, uneventful. Crystal caught most of the travelers enjoying a relaxing airplane sleep. Lyle seemed to have the best plane sleeping technique. All the bags showed up in Santa Cruz, but someone opened my plane box and took the transmitter out. They did put it back, but did not strap it in, so it smashed around lose in the box and broke the plane to pieces. I am not happy, but I haven’t had time to make a good assessment of the damage.

Marg met us at the airport and off we went on our micro. All the luggage fit inside the bus, so there was no need to lash any of it to the

roof! Corinne embarrassed Jenna right off the bat with a packing story which I won’t repeat here; suffice it to say, “don’t burn any garbage or pack any bags without checking them first.” Jenna returned the favor by describing all the items her mother had packed that Jenna then had to remove for her dear mother before they left. The highlight of the list for me was the 8 mile long ball of binder twine, but I will let Corinne tell you why she thought it was necessary.

We left the Viru Viru airport in Santa Cruz at about 9 a.m. and continued to drive, stop, eat, drive, stop, buy (repeat often) for the next 7 hours. Our final stop for today was the Hoogland homestead where we got settled in. We then decided to go for a swim before dinner since we were all very was hot and tired. Walking

through the jungle to get to the river provided Wilma with the opportunity to take many fungus pictures. Once at the river, Marg and Corinne were first in followed by all except Lyle. I think the talk of the hook fish scared him, but eventually we had him wading in up to his knees. At one point I looked over at Brent who still had a grin on his face you couldn’t have knocked off with a 2x4! When I asked how he was feeling, he simply replied “I don’t have words for it.” After 30 minutes of great swimming,

Wilma thought that things were getting a bit dull, so she stepped on a stingray and took a nasty stab to the leg, and that was the end of that. Lyle felt vindicated, but he didn’t gloat too much. Marg is preparing a great supper as I write this, then I suspect we will all fall asleep. That is all for now, I will try to post again soon.

Flying the Friendly Skies

2009-05-13T14:19:00.000-07:00

The flight from Calgary to Dallas was one of the best flights I have ever had! I got an exit row to myself; it was nice and cool; Brent didn’t throw up on his very first flight; and we were mostly on time! I hoped that this would be an indicator of things to come. I was wrong. The flight to Miami loaded on time and then sat on the tarmac for 1.5 hours. It was hot and crowded, and you had to pay $3 for a cookie, but we all got to Miami eventually and even found our team member from Toronto. Brent has completed two flights like a pro. I think there is the potential for a world traveler in him.

Corinne has not stopped telling stories and laughing the whole trip. She has made both Jenna (her daughter) and Brent blush a couple of times. I just love vet stories! She engaged a Spanish-speaking seat mate on the last flight by butchering his language. He then very kindly tutored her for three solid hours. Nothing like a patient seat mate! Lyle, on the other hand, drew a minister as a seat mate and may have gotten saved by the time we touched down in Miami. The couple sitting next to Wilma quit bitching to her about the cold temperatures in Dallas when she informed them that it was snowing at her house two days before she left.
So now we sit in the Miami airport waiting to fly to Bolivia. We are very full, a little bit tired, punchy tired, and bored, writing a blog. At least the seats are comfortable and you can pick your seat mate in the lobby. I will have to wait to get to the jungle to get a reliable connection to post this—go figure! Bye for now.

And We Are Off!

2009-04-30T05:10:00.000-07:00

Well we are all through the gate without incident! Brent got hassled a bit at custom about being so red, but he handled it very well. Everyone got their bags through without extra charges, and the plane in a box is checked in as well. Lyle is sporting a pretty blue back pack with Hibiscus(flowers)on it, so we will not lose him in the crowd. Corinne is phoning home already, either she forgot something, or she misses Darcy. So far, so good! we will meet 1 more member of the team in Miami, then 2 more when we get to Santa Cruz. I will update this as often as I have a connection. Wish us well.

The Final Shave

2009-04-25T19:39:00.000-07:00

The final page has been turned on the Shave to Save saga. A good time was had by all (with the possible exception of Brent). Jack, just trying to be helpful, I'm sure, brought the hedge trimming shears, but Bob the Barber couldn’t hold them high enough long enough to get the job done, so the sheep shears had to come out.

As it turns out, Bob's barbering skills are dubious at best. He took the first few swipes at each head, but Wilma needed to finish the job. In the spirit of giving,Wilma even offered to let Bob take a few swipes at her, in the end offering up half her hair--the bottom half!--to the cause.

When the tally was done there was $1,025.34 on my head. Not too shabby, I thought. The amount that is; my head was plenty shabby! I was a little concerned when Lyle pulled out a brown envelope, but, although it made the competition closer, it was not enough to claim all my hair! I managed to get $1,378.00 on Brent’s head, so he lost it all, so to speak! That makes a total of $2,403.34 going to Bolivia for various projects! Thank you, Thank you, Thank you!

What I am most pleased with is Brent offering to do this for no monetary reward to him. He was not raising funds to subsidize his trip or to pay for new travel equipment. ALL the money goes somewhere else. $2,400.00 CAD C will go a very long way in Bolivia. So, thanks to all of you who gave, but especially thanks to Brent who gave of himself.

Sign Your Donor Card!

2009-04-17T13:08:00.001-07:00

I was involved in transplant surgery this past weekend, a surgery led by Dr. Joe. This is the second transplant surgery I have been involved with but the first time I’ve dealt with a scenario where there has been one donor and many recipients. I have mixed feelings now, after the procedure: sadness for the donor but happiness for all of those who benefitted.

Part of my role on the transplant team was to escort the donor to the procedure on that fateful Good Friday morning. (Well, it was a “good” Friday for some; not the donor!) It was eerie knowing that I was the last to have a conversation with the donor before Dr. Joe began. I found it odd that the donor willingly proceeded to the site of termination. I questioned the ethics of assisting in the act that would end a life even though I knew that the death would save many. I could intervene and save the donors life, but at what cost? Is terminal really terminal? What if a treatment was found and the effects of time could be reversed? Would the death of one on Good Friday really save the lives of others? If so, how many would benefit? Could such matters be reduced it a “score card” type of evaluation?

With the donor immobilized and then terminated, Dr. Joe began to remove the heart. I had the honour of helping by removing many other vital organs. Even some cosmetic donations were made. It took only a few hours to take the donor from fully functioning, albeit worn out, to a stripped-out shell. This was the saddest part for me. I hate to think that we are only a few boxes of good parts in an aging, decaying case.

But with death comes life! A younger recipient with a bad heart now has a new heart, (new to them at least) and the opportunity to live again after years of convalescing. To see her come to life again, reborn , and leave the surgery under her own power was very rewarding. But the death of one on Good Friday meant life for not just one but many by Sunday. A new heart for one, yes, but a new front end for another and a new brain for a third and boxes of hope for many more yet to be touched by Friday’s Sacrifice.

Thanks to Dr. Joe for giving life to our newest and best-looking shiny blue firefly, for fortifying the front end on my dear old friend and driving partner (515,000 km and still going), and for adding a new CPU to Heather’s pride and joy. My shelf of pretty-good parts is also growing, and has inspired me to begin planning a little cosmetic surgery on my old girl.

Sign your donor card, and you, too, can bring life where only death looks likely. Remember those who have made sacrifices for us, and always be nice to your mechanic!

Shave to Save Update

2009-04-09T21:38:00.000-07:00

Well the battle is on! At the end of the first week, I am ahead by a hair (which means I won't end up with any!), so I decided to use this space to strongly urge you to pledge money for BRENT's haircut. Let me cut to the chase: if I can't raise some funds for Brent, I am going to have to pack an extra suitcase just for sunscreen!

I have received a number of email inquires about the beard; no, it is not coming off! Rumour has it that a consortium is being formed to double whatever funds are raised by 'shave day' if I will take the beard off, too. To quote Ray R., "Talk is cheap. It takes money to buy whiskey." I suspect Gord A. and Trish are behind this anti-beard conspiracy. As for me, I am still looking for a corporate sponor to donate to Brent's haircut. I think that may be the only way I will get to keep any hair.

It has been a hair-raising week. I never thought that people's need to get even with me would result in saving lives in Bolivia, but, hey, whatever works! In all seriousness, though, my thanks go to all who have cut into their own funds to help those in need. Brent has been doing a wonderful job of drumming up support to cut me down to size. There are now a number of posters up on campus that I suspect have seen the less-flattering side of a PhotoShop program. The Student Association has also gotten behind this and is advertising on our behalf. Funds are being donated online, and I recieve a number of emails every day.

To better serve the students and to drum up a little more support on Shave day, the event will be held in the Time Square in residence on April 24th at noon--the last day of classes. Please plan on coming out to see the hair come off! If you are wondering what I am talking about or can't remember how to become involved, please see the origonal release below. Thanks for you support, and keep it coming!

Shave to Save

2009-04-03T12:30:00.000-07:00

Students and faculty from Olds College are "head"ing to Bolivia—

but some heads will be better prepared than others.

Two brave travelers are inviting you to help Bolivia by paying for their haircut!!

In an effort to raise funds for A Better World’s Rural Health Project (an initiative that covers medical costs for individuals and families who cannot afford medical care) and for Bolivian agriculture projects, a few members of the team are donating their bodies (well, just their hair) to science (okay, it’s cosmetology, but that is science, right?) Gordon Gilchrist, who is also ABW’s technical director, and Brent Nicol, student extraordinaire, have agreed to participate in this hair-raising scheme. They will have their hair cut—shorter and shorter as the funds raised pile higher and higher. So choose your favourite and give, give, give!!

Whoever “wins” 1st place (raises the most money) gets their head shaved clean!
Whoever comes in 2nd gets to keep a 1/2” of hair.

To donate:

Email ggilchrist@oldscollege.ca, indicating amount of donation and who you are sponsoring.
Or go to http://www.a-better-world.ca/ and click ‘donate online’ (Specify “Shave to Save” and either “Gord” or “Brent”)

(Charitable receipts available for donations of $25 or more. Include mailing address, please.)

How Does Your Garden Grow?

2009-02-10T14:36:00.000-08:00

A new member has been added to this May’s Bolivia trip. Wilma is going to join us and will bring her fruit tree and production garden experience with her. The goal for our group is to develop a three-year plan for food production for CERENID, a home for street boys, near Samaipata so her skills will valuable indeed. Also in the group we have Brent, an Olds College GIS student who will be in charge of mapping; Stacey, an Olds College Agricultural Production student, in charge of infrastructure; vets; a medical professional; a livestock specialist; an agricultural mechanic; and a writer extraordinaire! What a great team! Oh yes, and then there is me—the Jack of all trades.

Currently, the students are busily preparing their presentations with background information of Bolivia. We will have two presentations at noon on Friday March 13th.I am curious to see how their impressions of the country change as they go from impartial researching to actually travelling in and experiencing the country, because I’m very sure they will. For me, one of the best parts about traveling is that what I expect and what I end up experiencing is rarely the same thing. I suppose this also a good thing for the travel industry; if you could get the whole experience by merely researching a country, there would be far less incentive to spend all those wasted hours in airports!

The daily planner I use for these trips is a spreadsheet. That is because the plan changes often, and the idea of typing up a new one every time a change is made terrifies me! As I suspected would be the case, I am on version six of the schedule already—what with trying to coordinate in-country hosts and finally getting flights confirmed and such. I love spread sheets! I am moving, rearranging, and calculating like mad. It is the closest I get to being organized. (Thanks, Murray).

We have a great team assembled! Couple this with some great in-country contacts (you have to have great people on the ground) and I think we are looking at an unforgettable learning experience for everyone. It’s Bolivia or bust, baby. Just try to stop us now!

You Can't Get There from Here

2009-01-14T18:57:00.000-08:00

Well, I have put off buying airline tickets for the Bolivia trip for as long as I could. I guess you just can’t outwait global uncertainty and political unrest. At some point you just have to dive in. I feel for the travel agent because booking tickets is a bit like navigating a corn maze; there are many possible ways to reach the destination, but only one “best” way.
There is never a direct flight from where I am to where I want to be! It is not so much the flying I dislike but the waiting in airports between flights. It will be a real treat to travel with a group this time--much of my traveling is on my own—partly because I have a fear of falling asleep in an airport and missing my flight, or of getting on the wrong plane and winding up “going to Winnipeg.” The chance of these things happening when you are with a group is greatly reduced, and if these things do happen, at least you have company to commiserate with.

The standard route to Bolivia from Calgary is on American Airlines. You spend 22 hours hop scotching across American cities to end up in Miami, then La Paz, before finally ending up in Santa Cruz. Now, I will do almost anything to avoid the Miami airport due to some bad experiences with rats, faulty plug-ins, too-short or too-long turn around times, invariable the wrong gate listed, and significant running. I sometimes question if going to Bolivia is worth suffering through the Miami experience—but here I am about to go again, so I guess I have my answer.
I presented the trip’s daily itinerary to the group last week. It looked a bit skeletal. I am amazed at how much meat has been added to the bones in the week since then! I met with Jake and Marg Hoogland this week, and the event calendar filled rapidly—as I knew it would. Marg and Jake have been living and working in one of the homesteading areas in Bolivia for 3ish years now, and it will be a real eye-opener for our group to experience those surroundings for a couple of nights. I am sure it will be a highlight of the trip for many. I am also convinced that Jake will have no trouble filling all the time we can devote to the area.
Next week I hope to talk to Maria Jose from CERENID to flesh out the rest of the schedule. I have never worried about a trip plan that was too thin, I only hope it doesn’t get so fat that it needs two seats on the plane! One thing for sure, Olds College/A Better World Bolivia Ag Tour 2009 will not be boring!

Washing Over My Soul

2009-01-03T10:09:00.001-08:00

This is the time of year for joy and peace, but, for me, it is also a time of reflection. The world is full of moments of tragedy and triumph, both natural and man-made in origin. Each of these events resonates with us differently, and, I believe, each event shapes us to some degree. I cannot explain why the tsunami of December 26, 2004 impacted me so much at the time, and I could not imagine how it would change my life--land locked as I was in central Alberta--but it did! Because of the tsunami, I met Eric Rajah and A Better World, I realized that I needed to involve the very talented people I know in humanitarian endeavours, and, most importantly, I recognized the importance of creating opportunities for our students to see the real world! It was as though that wave had washed over my soul.

Lessons Learned

Ours was the second team from ADRA (the Adventist Development and Relief Agency) to reach Sri Lanka; a medical team had been in the area before us. Pictures can never fully capture the experience of being on-site, so, in spite of my reviewing many photos prior to the trip, I was not ready for what I saw upon arrival in Pottuvil. When we reached the coast, the extent of the devastation was readily apparent, and there had already been two months of cleanup. I ran on pure adrenaline for the first three days. My mood ran from complete despair through admiration to optimism. I learned a few valuable lessons on that trip:

Nothing good can happen if you do not have good local people on the ground.
Not everyone is good.
Follow the money.
Leave your preconceived solutions at the airport.
Listen.
Make a difference one person at a time.
The road to hell is paved with good intentions!

There is no question that I saw many examples of greed, corruption and profiteering, but I also saw many examples of giving, caring and personal sacrifice. The trick to helping is to always work with people exhibiting characteristics of the latter group.

One From the Latter Group

On one occasion, two of us were busily building doors to stop the monkeys from stealing the offerings at local shrine when a man brought us a melon. He spoke almost no English, and we couldn’t even identify the language that he was speaking, but I’m sure he was basically saying, “Take a break you crazy white guys. Don’t you know it is the hottest part of the day? We don’t need two dehydrated old men passing out on us; we have enough to deal with right now!” Sagara helped us for the rest of the day.
At the end of the day we learned that Sagara had aquired a simple machine and was attempting to make cinder blocks, one at a time, to support his family and to help rebuild his community. Sagara was a laborer who had lost everything but his family—a family that grew by one on the day of the tsunami as his wife gave birth amidst the chaos. Now, they were all living in a tent in his mother-in-law’s yard. My mind started whirring, plotting, and planning. After doing a quick needs-assessment, asking many questions of many local people, and, most importantly, listening carefully to their answers, our group discussed the idea of supporting Sagara so he could increase cinder block production.
Sagara had asked for nothing. He had given freely of himself. He was not aware of our plan when he arrived for a meeting at his neighbours house. We simply started asking questions of Sagara with the help of a translator, and, after four hours of talking, had a plan that would see him triple his production, employing 12 local labourers. As a bonus, Sagara would be now be producing “Super Blocks” because I passed on what I had learned from Sandy R. in Mech 269 when I was a student at Old College. (It still amazes me how misunderstood concrete is, but that is the topic for a duller blog.)

I went back to Sri Lanka some months later to see if what we had started had gone anywhere and to start more projects if the people we chose during our first trip proved to be the right people with whom to work. The change in the area was amazing. The results of international aid were evident everywhere--some positive and some negative. Buildings were going up all over, damage had been cleaned up, and many people were far better off than before the tsunami. Unfortunately, not everyone was so lucky.

Of Locals and Labour
The best example of aid damaging the local economy involved the rice farmers. Most of the rice crop had been harvested before the disaster struck, but huge amounts of rice flooded into the country from abroad. The media carried footage of people without enough to eat so well-intentioned but misguided foreign agencies did what seemed right—they sent food. But the effect of that food hitting the market was that the price of rice was cut in half while the price of labour doubled. Aid agencies paid more double the going rate for labor, so those who would normally work for a local rice farmer were intisted into taking jabs in construction, and the rice crop for the following year was reduced drastically. Some local farmers lost their farms. In time, the markets sorted themselves out, but in the short run many suffered not from the wave but from the good intentions of other countries. The moral of the story is: if something is needed, buy it locally if you can!

Did we back the right horses? Mostly, yes. We had wells drilled that were producing clean water for residents of newly constructed communities—a very important project and a huge success! Some of the political relationships we had to cultivate produced less bang for the buck, so we minimized our exposure on those fronts. But overall our involvement was a success.

Changing Lives
For me, the greatest success was Sagara. When I returned, he was producing blocks—and lots of them! He was filling orders of 80,000 blocks, 3 blocks at a time. Still, the success was not in those numbers but in Sagara himself. Upon my return, Sagara was still living in a tent and a grass shack. When I asked him why, as a mason and block maker, he had not built himself a house like all his neighbours had, he replied, “I will build my house, but right now my country needs me to make blocks.” He was providing employment for his countrymen, producing a much-needed local product with local technology, and supporting his community by donating bricks for school projects. His loan repayment funded six small agricultural projects which helped some very poor families to get back on their feet.

When I left, Sagara said to me, “Before the tsunami, I had a black heart, but, because of all the help after, I am now a good person. I don’t have a black heart any more.”

For Sagara and I, this wave washed away the silt that clouded our souls, letting both of us see more clearly what is truly important.

Three Men and a White Board

2008-12-23T18:58:00.001-08:00

What do you get when you put a doctor, an engineer and a cheap techie Scotchman in a room for three hours? Why, you get the floor plan for a clinic on the Burmese/Indian border, of course! Ray Comeau of Medical Mercy Canada is a Red

Deer doctor who has been leading a group of volunteers to India for the last five years to provide medical assistance to the locals. Pat Romerman is a Principal with Group2 Architecture Engineering who volunteers with A Better World. I am the cheap Scotchman.

At Olds College, I teach a course on farm building planning, and I use a great floor planning process I learned from an agricultural engineer, Sandy Roberts, 15 years ago. Basically there are four steps:

List the needs and wants for the building
Determine minimum sizes for each room or area
Organize the rooms for optimum internal and external traffic flow
Determine the overall size and shape of the building.

Last year Ray and I went through this process and developed the Cadillac of clinics. Ray took the plan to India to price it out and found that we couldn't afford it. He brought back a plan that was designed locally. The foundation looked like my lower intestine--no shortage of outside walls, and the roof lines looked like something from Architectural Digest but would make adding on to the building later difficult—so it was back to the drawing board, or in this case, the white board.

Ray and Pat started listing and sketching on the white board (Pat had to sketch on a white board because he only had a Macbook with him. It looked very stylish, but, of course, couldn't do any real work), and I opened AutoCAD to start drawing up their ideas with precise dimensions. When we had all the basic components of the building sized, we hooked up my laptop to a big screen to organize the rooms.

The great thing about a CAD program is the ease with which you can move and edit. On paper, you need to redraw each time you want to make a change, but, with CAD, you can move rooms around like puzzle pieces—and that is what we did. After the rooms were organized to optimize traffic flow, the overall size and shape of the building was decided upon. It is at this point that you often create some extra space and can fit in some of those "wants" from your original list. Things like storage closets and extra office space magically appear. And, for this building which, we suspect, will later have a phase 2 and a phase 3, we made sure our plan paved the way for those wings to save headaches in the years to come.

The advantage of collaboration becomes so apparent during sessions like these. I know the product of this design charrette will be much better than any of us could have formulated individually. (For starters, Pat would have to get a work computer! But I have to say Pat, your pictures look really good on that Macbook!) And this is just the first step in getting this clinic up and running. There are many more steps to follow, but remember: proper planning promotes productive projects!

I really enjoyed working with Ray and Pat—even if I had to skip my Christmas party to be there. Thanks guys!

If you would like more information on this project, go to http://www.a-better-world.ca/ and read the feature article on the Comeaus.

My Baby's Got a New Pair of Shoes

2008-12-22T20:29:00.000-08:00

Shoes have impacted my life on more than one occasion and for more than one reason. One of the early stories I remember my mother telling me about the Depression included shoes. She said that growing up on a farm during the Depression wasn’t too bad because each year they got a new pair of shoes, a new dress and always had enough food! Some kids came to school with lard sandwiches and shoes lined with paper to plug the holes in their soles, but not my moms family.Later in life, I saw shoe ownership become a limiting factor for children who wanted to attend school in many of the countries in which I have worked. This summer Pastor Ron Sydenham of the Lacombe SDA church travelled to Kenya and Rwanda. He too recognized the value of shoes and their link with education. Upon returning to Canada, he decided to raised enough money to provide new shoes for all the students attending a particular school in Kenya. The congregation donated enough money to buy 1000 pairs of shoes! Best of all, the shoes were purchased in Kenya from Kenyan businesses providing trickle down income for many local Kenyans. Injecting shoes into the local economy is like injecting cash. You can bet that the shoes will be worn by someone until they are worn right out.

Although there are some, few people in Canada have to worry about affording shoes. My daughter, however, has been unable to wear shoes for more than four years because of nerve damage in her ankle. Summers are not so bad; capris and open-backed shoes are right in style then, but when it is forty below, they are not so stylish. More importantly, driving around the prairies in such flimsy attire in the middle of winter is just plain dangerous!
After more than four years of trying pills, creams, and therapy, she still hasn’t been able to get into shoes. At one point, I suggested a brace, but the product from the physio lab just didn’t work. This past Monday night, my daughter and I took a stab at creating one ourselves. Years of molding airplanes has given me some knowledge of fiberglass, carbon fiber and molding agents. Two evenings, some plaster of Paris and various resins and fibers later, we had a prototype as a concept-prover.Here we have the lacing up of the first pair of real shoes to go on my daughter’s feet in over four years! She made it through half a day in the shield, but even more importantly, we have a new concept to try that will, I’m sure, lead to a more normal life and definitely to warmer feet!
So, here’s to a new start ‘cuz my baby’s got a new pair of shoes!

Shoes for my mother, shoes for my daughter, and shoes for our global brothers and sisters. Something as simple as shoes can be have a huge impact on our children here at home, and all children around the world! Next time you lace up your Nikes, remember to appreciate what you have, and think about what you can do to help others here or abroad. Get involved!

Bolivia or Bust

2008-10-01T15:22:00.000-07:00

I truly believe that one of the best educational experiences we can give anyone is an opportunity to travel to a developing country. I have been influenced from an early age by my father’s childhood experiences in Africa. I did not realize how much affect it had on me until I started to travel to developing countries after the Tsunami of 2004.

Damaged Homes - Sri Lanka 2004

In May of 2009, Olds College and A Better World (ABW) will take students and community members to Bolivia for two weeks. I will be leading this trip and in so doing will realize a dream five years in the making. After Katrina, Olds College and ABW partnered to send a group of students, staff and teachers to the USA to help rebuild homes. Each student returned with new insights into the world in which they live. I know by experience that a trip to Bolivia will have the same result but multiplied by 10! I know by experience that this will be a life-altering experience for some of the people in our group and still very impactful for the rest.

Mountains in Bolivia

I do have concerns and a little trepidation: all developing countries are unstable, all have unique health and cultural challenges, and all have safety issues (usually the traffic is the worst). I am encouraged by the fact that we have some very fine people in Bolivia to help. Marg and Jake Hoogland moved to Bolivia from Canada about three years ago; Zenon Flores is a local agriculture instructor with a passion for his field; and Maria Jose is the director of CERINID, a local home for street boys. And I hope that my experience in the country will prove beneficial as I lead the trip. I have been to Bolivia twice myself, and ABW has completed two very successful trips there in the last two years.

Jake and Marg Hoogland

This trip will focus on the state of agriculture in Bolivia, as well as helping to make CERINID more self sufficient in terms of food production. We will remain in the Santa Cruz area, but see developed farming areas, homesteading areas, mountains and jungle. We will be working on a local farm to help set up a dormitory that will be used to house students that will take agriculture apprenticeship training with Zenon Flores.

Zenon Flores and a Golden Aguoti Boar

So, here goes a new journey for me and a great opportunity for students and others in the community. Let’s hope this time I don’t need to use my GPS coordinates for the coffin store! Stay tuned for more details, and follow along on this blog in May to read about the adventure.

Gordon Gilchrist
Technical coordinator
A Better World

Instructor
Olds College
ggilchrist@oldscollege.ca

Blogs:
http://gordonatabw.blogspot.com/
http://gordatoldscollege.blogspot.com/

It is Not All Laughing Children and Happy Endings

2008-09-19T08:43:00.001-07:00

A Better World is supporting rural Bolivia with a health fund. Marg and Jake Hoogland live and work deep in the jungle--literally at the end of the road. There are very limited medical facilities within 3 or 4 hours' drive of the farm in their area. Many of the homesteaders have never been to Santa Cruz (the nearest big city), and they would not have the funds or contacts necessary to obtain medical help even if they were able to get to the city.

The Rural Health fund was established by ABW to be administered by Marg and Jake. Having a Canadian couple living in the community insures that the people who are truly in need of help can get it, and reduces the chances of waste and corruption. This fund is to help with testing and treatments of conditions past what the local clinics can deal with.

Earlier this year Marg contacted me about a little boy in their community that was not responding to local treatments, and slowly going down hill. His name was Jhonny, and he was 10 years olds. He was smart and a leader in his family, and at school. He was all boy, climbing trees, running fast, and coercing his sibling into trying to keep up. When Jhonny did not show up at a community function, Marg became concerned. She went to see Jhonny and he was in a very poor state. Not walking, dehydrated, and with bad headaches. The family had taken him to the local clinic again very recently, and he was giving Milk of Magnesia.

Jhonny's House

Marg contacted me and suggested that this would be the first case for the ABW rural health fund. I agreed, and the Hooglands dropped what they were doing and took Jhonny and his mother to the children’s hospital in Santa Cruz. This was the beginning of a 6 week stay for Jhonny, his mother (8 months pregnant), and Marg. You see, Jhonny had a brain tumor, a big brain tumor. It was determined that the tumor was operable if there was money to cover the bills… There was no question that this tumor would be fatal and probable soon. Marg and I had the conversation about draining the entire health fund on one little boy, instead of helping 25 people in the community. These are judgment calls that have to happen in a country like Bolivia, and that is the sad part. My cousin’s youngest son had a brain tumor, operable, and at no point did anyone say “should we sped the money, or just let him die”.

Marg and Jhonny in the Childrens Hospital

This was a no brainer for me! Spend the money and give the kid a chance! Jhonny ended up having 6 surgeries in 6 weeks, and contracted chicken pocks to boot! The total hospital bill was around $5,000.00.

I flew to Bolivia in August to start arrangements for a group trip in May 09. On my first day in Bolivia Marg and Jake took me to see Jhonny in the hospital. They were hiring someone to be with Jhonny at night as Marg and Jake were coming with me. Jhonny had his bandages off for the first time and was looking thin, but responsive. He was squeezing a tube of toothpaste, and his eyes would flutter open. He responded to touch on his feet, and the doctors were very hopeful about his condition.

Jhonny's mom Erselia and Marg

We left the hospital to get some food and talk about the busy week to come. Marg received a call to return to the hospital. Turns out the Jhonnys heart stopped, and he died. Six operations and chicken pock were just too much for his little body. Death in a tropical country leads to its own set of problems. We returned to the hospital to have the body released. This meant paying the bill in full, and getting the forms to transport Jhonnys body. A coffin would be about 600 B ($95.00 Can) and Jhonnys mother said she just couldn’t afford that, so we would just wrap him in a blanket and put him in the back of the truck…. Not if I can help it, I thought. It turns out there are all night coffin stores near the hospital, so off Jake and I went.

After a long terrifying drive in the middle of the night, we lay Jhonny in his coffin on the alter of the local church for a day of service before the burial. Jake and I went to his house to get a little sleep before to burial. 51 hours had past since I had seen a bed, and that one had been in Canada. 51 hours that remolded who I am, and clarified why I try. Jhonnys mother was very upset that we spent all this money, and Jhonny died anyway. She felt badly and was concerned that we wasted all that money. She was devastated by Jhonnys passing, but was worried we would think we wasted the money. Wasted the money??? That somehow she had let the donors down, because Jhonny died???

Carrying Jhonny to the graveyard

I have replayed this over and over in my mind since returning to Canada. This was an operable, benign tumor in the head of a 10 year old boy. How could we not give this boy a chance? If this was your son, would you say, “sorry, too much money” and let him die? No, of course not. This family did not have the money (about 2 years wages for them) and I am not a big believer in throwing cash at problems, but this is the perfect example of where money is all that was needed to give Jhonny a chance because we had Marg and Jake on the ground willing to help.

We do not win them all, but that should not deter us from trying. You cannot win if you don’t try. I know we like to read stories about happily ever after, but there is much to be learned from the journey as well. We tried, and I would try again given the same circumstance. The rural Bolivia fund is now empty, and I would like to double it for next year. Please consider supporting this activity, we are very lucky to have Marg and Jake on the ground to administer this fund. I don’t think you could get better bang for your buck anywhere else.

For more information on Jhonny or the Hooglands see
http://www.hooglandsinbolivia.blogspot.com/

To donate, follow the link below, and please specify Rural Bolivia,Thanks!

http://www.a-better-world.ca/

Gordon Gilchrist
Technical coordinator
A Better World

Instructor
Olds College
ggilchrist@oldscollege.ca

Blogs:
http://gordonatabw.blogspot.com/
http://gordatoldscollege.blogspot.com/

A Better World Helps in Rural Bolivia

2008-09-06T08:39:00.000-07:00

Last May, I travelled to Bolivia with A Better World to help out at a couple of orphanages. While I was there, I fell in love. I really didn’t mean to, but the country stole my heart and wouldn't let me go. Though I have been in the backwaters of every continent except Antartica, Bolivia grabbed my attention like no other place I've ever been. It is a beautiful country with the promise of a bright future. There is potential in Bolivia: land, water, and sunshine. Throw in a little knowledge, some hard work, and a bit of political stability, and you have the ingredients for success.

Bolivia is homesteading land like Canada did at the turn of the century. People are moving from the mountains to farm in the jungle. These new rural communities have great need, and great promise.

A Better World is supporting these rural communities with three initiatives. Supporting rural health assessments and treatment, promoting practical hands-on agricultural training, and helping to develop agricultural infrasturcture. Already, this years' health fund has been exhausted, and we are looking at increasing the funding for it next year. Two agricultural infrastructure projects are just being completed, and, by April 2009, we would like to have the first phase of the agricultural school complete.

My job with A Better World is to solve problems. The problem I pondered as we were working at those orphanages last May was "why are these kids here?" Supporting orphanages, though a necessary work, is really treating the symptom without addressing the underlying disease. In this case, the problem is poverty. Address that, and the need for orphanages is decreased. By providing care for immediate needs but also formulating a plan that will empower citizen--both through agriculture and education--A Better World is helping Bolivians today and into the future.

Gordon Gilchrist
Technical coordinator
A Better World

Instructor
Olds College
ggilchrist@oldscollege.ca

Blogs:
http://gordonatabw.blogspot.com/
http://gordatoldscollege.blogspot.com/

On the Road for A Better World

Random Thoughts from India - April 24 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

St. Lukes - April 23 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

South India Spa & Weight Loss Program - April 23 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

It All Computes - April 18 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Trigger

Clinic to the Stars - April 17 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Unplugged, But Not By Choice - April 17 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Aizawl Again - April 16 (by Gordon Gilchrist)

It's an Icelandic/Germanic/Indian Birthday

No Rest for the Wicked (by Gordon Gilchrist)

It Takes Time to Process (by Karen Fyles)

Hope Floats (by Gordon Gilchrist)

It's a Man's Prerogative to Change His Mind! (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Mastering Mixed Memories

...And They're Off! (by Gordon Gilchrist)

I Can See Clearly Now, the Rain is Gone (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Port au Prince: City Under Siege (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Printing, Packing, and Pizza

Smile :)

"Hey Gordon, Do You Want a Towel?" (by Gordon Gilchrist)

Shaken, and Stirred (by Gordon Gilchrist)

*** EDITORIAL NOTE ***

Over the Hill!

Glance Behind but Look Ahead

Out of the Darkness and Into the Light

Now THIS is India!

It's People That Make the Difference

Gridlock on the Aizawl-Champai Highway

Not A Good Night

I Love It When A Plan Comes Together

Once a Teacher, Always a Teacher

Zadou - the Wild, Wild West

Ringing True

Flashback to Guatemala

Not All Seats Are Created Equal

Now You See Me; Now You Don't

On the Road Again

Aizawal - City on the Edge

I Thought this Airport had A/C?

Men and Machines

Maps and Memories

Eyes Wide Open

Back to the Big City

Earth, Wind, and Fire

Huh, It's Not a Dream

A Great Day!

Water, Water Everywhere

Up, Up and Away

Coffee, Biting Ants and Bikes

Wilma's Day!

Hide Your Money

Spider Killer - Bolivian Super Hero

The Seedier Side of Bolivia

The Seedier Side of Bolivia

Never Put Your Feet Down

Flying the Friendly Skies

And We Are Off!

The Final Shave

Sign Your Donor Card!

Shave to Save Update

Shave to Save

How Does Your Garden Grow?

You Can't Get There from Here

Washing Over My Soul

Three Men and a White Board

My Baby's Got a New Pair of Shoes

Bolivia or Bust

It is Not All Laughing Children and Happy Endings

A Better World Helps in Rural Bolivia

* EDITORIAL NOTE *