The Final Shave

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!

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

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

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?

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

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

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.