Teach a Man to Fish

Teach a Man to Fish… By Charlene Luzuk, International Programme Coordinator, ADRA NZ Please imagine the scene; you have just embarked on your first trip to Asia, and your taxi from the Phnom Penh airport in Cambodia has dropped you off outside your hotel. It looks quite different to the brochures you saw when you picked it, but as you gaze around you cant see any better looking ones around. As you step out of the taxi, you feel the wave of heat roll over your body, and you stop and think, wow!! If this is what its like all the time, I think I’ll overheat and die! As your forehead starts to gather beads of sweat, you check in to your hotel. Your room is simple, but it has an air conditioner! Putting your bags under your bed and taking anything worth of value with you, you wander out of your hotel with your trusty Lonely Planet Guide book and head for the nearest markets, not even attempting to pronounce the name. The air is dusty, and as you are looking up at the sky, listening to the drone of countless motorbikes zooming by, close enough to touch, your foot knocks into something and you stumble. Looking down, you are shocked to see that you have walked into a crippled man on the pavement. He is looking at you with his head at a peculiar angle, and he holds out a dirty cup with a few small crumpled notes in it. You continue to look at his body, avoiding his gaze and you see that his legs are, well, how can you say, one is twisted up behind his lower back, and the other one is half formed and supporting his body, folded in front of him. The sight is rather disturbing, and after all of these thoughts and images pass through your mind in a split second, you say your sorry and walk away hurriedly. As you continue to walk, your conscience begins relentlessly nagging you saying ‘Do something! Stop and go back and help the man! Give him some money!’ but you feel so uncomfortable and don’t know what to do. Someone must look after him though, you try to reason with yourself, I have heard about beggars begging because its good money, and its actually their job and they work for someone, but what if he is for real? So you stop in your steps, retrace your footsteps and reaching into your bag as you approach him, pour all of your loose change into the mans outstretched cup. You see your packet of chips and you leave those next to him too. Feeling relieved, you walk away, noticing the man didn’t say thank you, but happy that your conscience was quiet. You think about your act of welfare, and how now, because of your actions, that man can eat for a day or two. You gave him hope and help. What a blessing. Now the spanner gets thrown into the works. This illustration (although quite a realistic one) is an example of welfare, but ADRA over the past 20 years has moved away from welfare to focus on development. How can this be? Let’s first distinguish between the two terms; Welfare: Aid in the form of money or necessities for those in need (Merriam- Webster) This sounds like ADRA doesn’t it? Indeed, but have a look at the definition of development: Development: a state in which things are improving; it meets the needs and aspirations of the current generation, without compromising the ability of the future generations to meet their own needs. (unisdr.org) Many people think that ADRA’s work involves a lot of going around giving out free things to the poor and needy. Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and a place for that like in emergency relief situations. But welfare, when looking at the bigger picture often does more damage than good. It promotes dependency and can only be short term in impact. Take a look at this amazing Chinese proverb- Give a man a fish, and he eats for a day; Teach a man to fish and he eats for a life time This is exactly what ADRA is about. By teaching a man to fish, instead of just giving a fish to him, he is educated, equipped and skilled to go out and feed himself. This way he is empowered to work and be responsible for his own future, and doesn’t have to stand in line every day, waiting for a fish to eat, he can go and feed his whole family because he has been a part of effective development. In Bangladesh and the Solomon Islands, ADRA NZ has projects which do exactly this. Women are trained to read and write so that they can then manage the family finances, and the loan which they receive to start a business to support their family, leaving them self-supporting, educated and empowered. This could never have been achieved by giving them food every day, because soon enough the funding would run out and they are left exactly as they were found. Throughout the Bible, there are countless texts referring to the poor and how we are to care for them and be welfare driven towards them. It is our duty to help our brothers and sisters when we see that they are in need, so please note that I am not discouraging notions of welfare in our lives, but merely explaining that the most effective way to help lift people out of poverty on the big scale of things is by looking to the long term solution, and the most practical. By concentrating on lifting up a community by development like educating the children and teaching the parents how to farm, the effects trickle down even to the poorest of the poor. So as you continue to support ADRA, know that your money goes to helping people help themselves, changing the world one life at a time.

The Body of Christ (ADRA)

The Body of Christ By Charlene Luzuk, I want to introduce to you, Mr. Lorn. He is a proud father of three children living with his family in a village in rural Cambodia. He will tell you of his past if you ask him, how he has always been poor, struggling to support his family to survive. He speaks of how he could not gather even enough rice for his family to eat at each meal. Schooling for his children was not an option because even the small fees are too much to support even one child. But in 1997, something changed his life. ADRA came into his village with the purpose of developing peoples livelihoods. They started up an agricultural project to promote the growing of vegetables in the village. Mr Lorn jumped at the opportunity to attend the training sessions and learnt many skills and knowledge to use to help his situation. He works very hard in garden development, and is producing enough for his family to move from one meal to two nutritious meals every day. With income from his produce, he saved money and has recently built a bigger house for his family, 5 x 7 metres, giving his old house to his sister and her family. With his children enrolled in the local school, his family’s future looks bright and promising, as they continue to sustain an income and receive education. He will tell you of how ADRA has inspired him to raise himself and his family out of poverty and unfortunate living conditions, to a new life of hope and empowerment. I could introduce you to thousands of people who have been touched by ADRA, not only touched but have had their lives transformed, empowered and inspired. As SDA church members, it is because of your support that these lives have come into contact with ADRA. Our motto here at ADRA is “Changing the world, one life at a time”, and that is exactly what we focus on. We focus on the destitute and marginalized those who are on the fringes of society who are not numerous enough to be helped by others. It is a mistake to think that because we may not be able to measure the results of education and empowerment, that there has been no effect and changes in lives. It is a mistake to think that because we do not require a commitment to Jesus before we serve them, that we are not furthering the work of God. Jesus met the needs of the people before he ministered to them. At ADRA we see ourselves as the ‘development arm’ of the church. In 1 Corinthians 12:12-27 Paul speaks of the body of Christ and the many parts of the body, how they must all work together, each in their different roles in order to successfully serve the Lord and follow the will of God. While the Literature Evangelists are out knocking door to door searching for hungry souls, and the pastors are preaching to their congregations leading members to commit to a closer relationship with God, and while each individual church member is shining the light to those who work around them, ADRA is strengthening the hands of the weak and needy, ADRA is the arm of the body of Christ reaching to those who are in despair and need, with no where to turn. Mahatma Ghandi once said; “There are people in the world so hungry, that God cannot appear to them except in the form of bread” So may it be that as ADRA helps people to feed themselves, as they eat the ‘bread’ of their harvests, may the name of ADRA be a constant reminder of how the Lord has touched their lives.

Darfur, Sudan (some content may affect readers)

Darfur is currently one of the most dangerous places on the planet. It is the site of the world’s largest humanitarian operation. Since the Darfur Peace Agreement in May 2006, attacks (beatings, rape, robbery, assassination) against peacekeepers and humanitarian workers has increased nine-fold. We hear a lot about Darfur in Sudan and the conflict that is going on, but rarely do we hear exactly what is going on, only the names of the places and the number of dead. I was shocked into thoughtful disturbing silence when I looked into the Darfur conflict as to what it is, and felt that the situation needs to be brought into light in the West, because the media so easily influences how much we hear about things which are so important. A quick background, Darfur is a region of Sudan which is mostly made up of Africans and Arabs. When the British granted Independence in 1956, they handed power to a minority of Arab elites, who in various groupings have been in power ever since. This caused the south to mutiny against the north, starting the North-South war which ended in 1972. Peace was signed under President Nimeiry which only lasted a few years as the government kept ignoring the peace treaty, and there was a shift towards forcing political Islam on people, the discovery of oil, extreme droughts and famines and to cut the history short, years which followed which saw the National Islamic Front overpower the democratically elected government, and the proclamation of Jihad (holy war) against the south. The regime was home for several Islamic fundamentalist organisations, which provided a home for Osama Bin Laden from 1991-1996, when the US forced him out. At present, the Janjaweed fighters (militia used by the government to fight wars for them so they can claim they have nothing to do with it) have been deployed out to attack and subdue “rebels” who have sprung up from poverty-stricken, marginalized Darfur in two main groups; the Sudan Liberation Army (SLA) and the Justice and Equality Movement (JEM). These groups have worked together and attacked government airbases, garrisons and other targets, running circles around the government. So any village ‘suspected’ to have links to the rebels have been attacked by the Janjaweed. This is where the horrific scenes of rape, torture, ruthless slaughter and other atrocities have been poured out on innocent people, in an already harsh unforgiving setting of deserts and famine. Sexual violence against women is occurring on a massive scale in Darfur, Amnesty International calling these mass rapes a weapon of war. “In Darfur, the Arab militia and military make a point of abusing women in front of their families or entire village. Raping a woman is such an effective weapon because it affects an entire community, for decades…Children who witness it are traumatized, men flee from their partners in shame, and women become ‘damaged goods’, sometimes literally if they can no longer have children because of the violence. Through raping wives and daughters…they target the ‘real enemy’; the men behind them. Having to have your enemies baby goes one step further and turns sexual violence into a tool for ethnic cleansing.” (New Internationalist, June 07) Victims hesitantly tell of rapes, one young girl raped by five men, the sixth cut her vagina with a knife. Another 18 year old girl, Hawa, tells her story: ‘one Friday night, gunshots awoke me, I saw other villagers running from the attackers; men with Kalashnikov rifles riding horses and camels. Jinaweed. I started running but two men caught me and another girl, they tied our hands together and raped us.’ Hawa fled to Camp Kalma in South Darfur. It was three months later but she was still being reminded of the rape every day, not only because she suffers pain in her stomach and can’t sit for long, but because the rapes are why she lives alone in her hut built of sticks and plastic bags. The uncle and aunt who raised her ignore her: a raped woman isn’t worth much in Darfur. She asks plaintively; ‘who will marry me now?’ I’m not telling this story as a shock method, but because this is what is happening right now, over and over and over again, and how can we keep ignoring it? It was not until the 1990’s that rape was taken seriously as a war crime. Male dominated international institutions, prosecutors and researchers preferred to concentrate on more ‘serious crimes’ like murder. But for the mass raping of women to come to an end, and for all these atrocities to come to an end, there has to be an end to freedom from punishment for rapists and those who incite them. Until the perpetrators can be sure that they will be held legally accountable, they will continue. The struggle to bring peace to Darfur is proving as ruthless and rugged as the conflict itself. But that doesn’t hide the fact that justice needs to be delivered to those who have the right to it. Since 2003: Over 400,000 Darfurian civilians have died- an estimated 150,000 from violent attacks, 250,000 from disease and starvation 2.8 million people have been displaced from their homes and villages 250,000 have fled abroad, mainly to Chad where they face further violence anyway 90% of the villages in Darfur’s targeted ethnic groups have been destroyed Jinaweed militia and government forces have been responsible for 97%of these killings 3.6million people are dependent on international humanitarian assistance A third of the people in need are beyond the reach of the 14,000 humanitarian workers.

Bangkok: May, 2007

In the middle of Bangkok > I have been loving walking around such a big and interesting city, swimming in the hotel pool while enjoying the heat, eating fruit and drinking coconuts (this is while im not working from 8 to 5 every day.. hey, i am working here, well, being trained in monitoring and evaluation... : ) ) Bangkok. I would probably have named it sin-city, but i spose i wasnt around back then. Positioned high up on the 27th floor of the 5 star Imperial Queen's Park Hotel just off the busy Sukhumvit Road on Soi 22, a street crammed with open walled pool bars, restaurants from Japanese to Italian, from Indian to Thai, along side internet cafes and laundry shops, massage parlours competeing for customers who walk by by saying 'wel-come, wel-com, you like massage, i give good massage madam, sir you like massage'.... all of them smiling, well, no, some of them smiling, some of them sitting looking insanely bored of being out in the hot all day... i suppose they could go in and watch tv next to a fan, but they would go home with less money in their pocket. I have spoken to so many people here...mostly women in massage parlours or just in passing them sitting outside bars... a place where they work 12 hours a day and only get the equivalent of $4...plus 50c in tips if they had a good day.... or for the majority of them, their income relies on whether they get picked to go home with a stranger..... might happen once or twice every two weeks. One girl, a nice 30 year old who i could have sworn was my age said she had been working at the pool bar for only 5 months. she used to work as a receptionist at a golf course, but it was such a low paying job so she followed her friends advice and got a job as what i would call a company girl....not quite a prostitute, but pretty much. Sh says she has no choice. she has an 8 yr old son, and her 44 yr old husband died 3 years ago. people think that because she works in a place like that, and dresses skimpily, that she is a 'bad girl' but she says its not true. she just needs more money. Another one, Pim, at a Japanese bar used to work in a sewing factory, such bad conditions, got 10,000 Baht a month. now she gets 30,000 a month. She can get paid up to 3000 a night when she has to go home with one of the usually older Japanese men that frequent the bar. She is used to her life, but doesnt like it, but its good money. she dreams to save enough money to start a thai restaurant. i asked her abouth her first night on the job and her face fell and she said it was horrible as she put her hand over her heart and didnt want to talk about it. just in my street there are hundreds of these women. in massage parlours too, they do dodgey "special massages", but they get paid 1000 baht to do it..it is their own choice whether they do or not.... the more i hear what these ladies tell me about their lives the more i move away from my initial naive thought of, 'how can they live lives like that and do such things' to more of 'far out, i am understanding that poverty has driven them to do these things and live lives like this, being cheapened by the day. what would i do in their situation? there is such a demand for these services here in Bangkok, its so easy to get into, and i know that i have never been burdened by poverty, i dont have a kid and live on $4 a day and have to pay for taxis, new clothes and food, and rent..... of course they turn to that option, what is their choice? compromise themselves and survive easier, or stick to their low paying, over working jobs...hmmmmm.....it makes me angry at sin and its clutches....that pull people from other countries to this place for the ever increasing sex-tourism that runs rampant here' Every time i go walking i walk past old men from all backgrounds with a young/ beautiful thai lady on their arm... who tells them they are handsome and charming and gives them what they want in exchange for gifts and money...both parties may be 'happy' but i dont care. its not right. it shouldnt be that way. Hmmmm. im venting in my blog, sorry if it doesnt make sense, but its just what i feel when i walk around here. But amoung all that junk, there are smiling happy faces and genuinely lovely people. I suppose the moral of the story ..or should i say the 'immoral' of the story is that money talks. its as simple as that. Poverty afflicts. souls searching for something. people trying to fill that unexplainable void inside with entertainment, sex, money, materialism, even human company, but really they will not be filled unless they find God. God fills the void. Bangkok needs God bad. I hope I can show at least one person God in my life and the way i live. I hope you can too..

Vietnam 04/07

Trung Khanh, Nthn Vietnam Current mood: tired Category: Travel and Places Out in the field 17-19th April- One night in the semi large city of Cao Bang, then to the Trung Khanh district where our ENSADE II project is being implemented. It's a reproductive health focused project and is going well and meeting its objectives so far.. ADRA staff there were good, met Thai, the project officer who was fun. One afternoon when we had a couple of hours free they drove us out to a massive cave and we walked through it. It was different from caves in Aust and NZ cos there were no barriers (as expected!) and you could walk anywhere and touch anything…which I did, haha. Spent two days attending commune activities and trainings... and as a part of the monitoring we went to a village health workers home for a bit of a chat, and I must admit, I was struggling to stay focused cos it was so dirty and muddy, mosquitoes and bugs, and the tea cups they gave us to drink tea from were teeny, and were so old and stained and who knows when they were washed…. (grin and bear it Charlene, they're lifestyles are different to yours)…its all a part of a days work for adra. I feel a constant wave of feelings as I travel through Vietnam, or any developing country….i see a bunch of chickens running across a street or into a house,and it makes me laugh cos they just look funny. 5 minutes later I see a man plucking a chicken alive and think about how much I hate human cruelty. Then I see some gorgeous kids and I'm smiling inside again, but only until 5 minutes later when I see an old lady struggling under a heavy load in the hot sun or in the rain and wish that her life of harsh realities could be swapped with mine cos she wouldn't waste her life like so many of us foreigners do on countless meaningless things. I see a man riding a motor bike, one hand steering, the other holding up a massive tv antenna as if he was driving around trying to find some coverage, and I crack up at the sight. 5 year old kids working out in a field all day, or stacking bricks when they should be playing with other kids, being 'normal' but have to help their families to survive day to day, hand to mouth. But what is normal? How can I put my stamp of normal anywhere near their situation? Normal for them is to have a pig pen in their house and listen to pigs squealing instead of a blaring tv. Normal is getting sick and living with it instead of going to the cupboard or handbag and grabbing pills and medicines to stop the pain. Numb the pain. Escape. That's the difference. We can choose to escape. They cant. But who am I to say they want to. Who am I to say 'us' and 'them'. Why do I separate myself so much from the situation? Because when I can escape from it, then it stops being my problem. When I go back to NZ, then I am allowed to forget about all the times my heart was stirred and cramped with the misfortunes of those I came into contact with. I do want to tell everyone about what life is really like, but who will listen? And if they do listen, they might think about it for a minute, have one pulse of sympathy resonate through their bodies, and then escape to their every day lives where they don't have to do anything about it. It reminds me of a quote: "I saw the horror of the Rwandan crisis on tv. It was so unspeakable in its scope and sadness that I knew as a human being that I had to take action. So I switched channels." Quoted in 'Symposium on Mission and social action' 1997 But what can you do? Give money? Is it really going to help? First of all, yes it does help. The more money we get, the more people we can reach, its as simple as that. But its an attitude thing. It's the way we live which determines how the rest of the world lives. There are so many things we can do to help others in our own sphere. Do a fly-and-build to build a classroom for an orphanage, help run a soup kitchen, if your attitude is right, and you are driven by a passion to help people, the way will be made clear on exactly how to do it. Ask God how you can serve Him by serving others. It's a blessing. What do you think?

Bangladesh-sick day and field day Category: Travel and Places 25/2/07 Biral/Dinjapur Bangladesh Compared to SE Asia, Bangladesh is such a hard, tough and male dominated society. I find it saddens me because of the lack of reaction you get from giving a simple smile- blank empty eyes. But just thinking about it now, this kind of environment makes love and kindness seem so amazing, so strong when it is revealed. When someone does smile, it is so much more to appreciate here. Today, out in the field visiting the ladies groups as a part of the HRDP project, they really touched me. Not their stand-offish fascination with white people, but their deep and expressive eyes and smiles which cover up lives we couldn't even imagine. Struggling to find somewhere enough food to give their families at least one meal a day; working hard to keep the house spotless in case God comes and their house isn't found messy; trying to save their kids from dying from simple curable health conditions like diahorrea and dehydration. This was before ADRA came to their villiage. They still struggle but their condition of living had improved so much and they are not living a hand-to-mouth lifestyle any more. They are able to save minute amounts of money, well, in our eyes, to prepare for a crisis in the future so they are not left bound to a high charging money lender. My memory of the day was when we were leaving the second group we visited, quite a poor one, and I was pulling faces and playing with the kids who were following a few feet behind me, and holding out my hand to see which one was daring enough to take it (It's a hand-holding culture, as a sign of friendship), a young girl around the age of 15 came through the group and boldly took my hand and led me on, back to the car through the walkways between the mud brick houses and cows and chickens. Its hard to describe the feeling of being accepted temporarily into a culture like that, kind of a peaceful joy brought to me by someone who knows the struggles and realities of life so much more then I do, she was young but I felt like the child being led by an adult. I felt I had so much to learn from this girl with broken English but not a broken smile. So many goats. So many ducks. So many cows. So much hard labour. Too many near misses. So much to take in. Adra office, WDO meeting, shawakamise shopping and tailoring, power going off all the time, saying goodbye to groups by having to touch everyone's hands. 28/2/07 No diary entry yesterday because I spent the entire night before vomiting and having diahorrea from food poisoning I got from eating two grapes and a little apple-like thing, all of which I shouldn't have eaten. Bythe morning, my bathroom visits had pretty much stopped, but the entire rest of the day was just as bad because I felt so sick and tired and exceedingly faint. I slept all morning and at 2pm tried to toughen up and go to see the drama show that the project ran out in the field. About 25 mins into the puppet show and music, I couldn't even sit up cos I was so weak and faint, not having eaten all day and still dehydrated. So I asked to lie down in the car for a bit but they took me home, via the doctor, I felt bad about making everyone leave. I told them I didn't need to go to the doctor, that I would just sleep it off and be better the next ay, but they took me anyway. The doctor was funny, he was like 'you have no problem, no bad condition, it is good for you to experience what my people have to struggle with every week'… it was funny. Went home and slept and each hour I would wake up all through the night to drink saline solution or try to eat something, like forcing down a spoonful of cold rice. Learnt a lot about what to do if I ever got in that way again…which I no doubt will. At the puppet drama there was a lovely 16 yr old boy who stayed by my side all the time, he could speak some English, which was good. I'm so glad I feel much better today, will put in a good productive effort. Can also try on my shawakamises that I bought and someone dropped off to me today. I bought an orange one and a black one. They are beautiful. The drama was very effective because it drew a large crowd and educated the people in a humorous way. Lots of songs and laughter about what foods are good and why you need to be healthy, but the one yesterday was about the importance of saving money for an unexpected time of crisis in the future so they don't end up getting financially indebted to a local money lender. The title was 'dowri' and the puppets wer sary looking! Haha. 1/3/07 Yesterday was great! I woke up feeling quite well and functional, but still totally non-appetitious! (I made up a word) Went to two more groups today, one of them a sewing class. Came back for lunch at the ADRA office, careful not to touch the fruit this time… After lunch we went upstairs to present the sewing course certificates to those who had completed it, shook their hands, took a photo, you know the scene. Irene, one of the WDO's (Women Development Officers) came up to me and gave me a beautiful black hair clip that she had for me, and I treasured it. The others then rushed up to me and painted a dot on my forehead like the Hindu women have, and fussed over me. Had a long photo session with each of the WDO's then we all moved downstairs where as soon as I walked in the door I noticed all of the WDO's in one room, beckoning me to come in secretly. As I came closer, one reached out and grabbed my hand, pulling me inside and they shut the door behind me. They were all so giggly and whispering excitedly, and as one of them latched the door, latched the men out, they all erupted into laughter and shouts and in their broken English they were saying to me 'Sing! Sing! Lets sing and dance!' so they started singing and gestured for me to dance, but I had no idea how to dance like them and so another two ladies started traditional dancing, which was so cool!!! I was copying them and they were all laughing at me, adding my own alterations and moves. By the way they were laughing, I'm guessing what they were doing was a bit secretive and sneaky but so fun. I was imagining Alan and they guys outside wondering what the heck was going on inside, LOL! After about 10 minutes of song and dance I said I had to go because we were pushed for time, and they all urged me to please come again in exactly a year, no, come to live!! Haha. I gave them all a NZ hug (pretty much teaching them how to hug unawkwardly, which they found funny…in Bangladesh the only affection they show is holding hands with everyone). It was an experience I will never forget, the hidden joy of Bangladeshi women, normally subdued by such a harsh culture. And I was able to be a part of it for a short time. As soon as the door opened they quietened right down and we all said a sad but happy goodbye. It really touched me. That afternoon we took a trip out to a small but amazing temple made out of bricks,each one individually carved to tell a story. Then when we got back, Alan and I went for a rickshaw ride into town and bought some food. Ok, so I admit I bought instant baby food porridge stuff because I was desperate for something that did not have curry or oil in it!!! Went back to my room, ate, watched an episode of 3rd Rock from the Sun until the power cut off, and went to bed. I was tired anyway.