Monday, June 11, 2007

Kuala Lumpur

I left Penang while it was still dark and night had not quite given way to morning. Arriving in KL, I was picked up by two of Hama's cousins. I think perhaps this initial meeting was the one that was most difficult, as we could sort of read in each other's eyes the awareness of all that had transpired since our last meeting. We asked the polite questions inquiring about family and pets and jobs, and then we spoke of Hama. I think I almost felt relieved by this because we didn't give in to any fear of speaking about her loss, and we talked about her and the tragedy of her death within the comfort of friendship. Our first stop was to the morning market to buy fresh ingredients for dinner. It is quite a sight--chickens hanging, fresh fish staring at you, vegetables, and dozens of people bustling around.

Through the National Kidney Foundation of Malaysia, Wellspring began supporting dialysis treatments for Hama in February of 2006. Knowing that it was only a transplant that had the hope of extending her full life, her family began to make plans for surgery. Wellspring planned to help with the necessary medicines and a place to stay. In fact, a doctor friend of ours donated a significant amount of the medication required before surgery.

Two weeks before her planned departure to have a kidney transplant, Hama collapsed and never full woke. They told me her eyes were open, but after losing consciousness for five minutes, her brain never recovered, and so her eyes registered no recognition or reaction. On a respirator to breathe for her, they talked of how much it hurt when doctors and medical personnel so easily said she couldn't be helped, and that they needed the respirator and bed for others.

Hama's mother is a small, sweet-natured woman, but they admirably spoke of the extent of her strength that surprised them as she fought for her daughter. To her, it didn't matter if she spoke again, or if her brain allowed her to work, or even to function at all. Her love for her daughter was never based on that, and so simply to have her live and be loved even if Hama could never show it in return was enough. We talk of how a mother's love is so unique and how even with the many beauties found in different kinds of love, there is something different about your mother. You know she'll never let you go and her love is entirely born out of something inside her that needs to love you entirely for your own sake. If your brain no longer allows you the gift of recognizing that love, and so her sacrifice will never be recognized or appreciated, it doesn't matter to her. For her, the joy and purpose is simply in her need and desire to love you. And when the hospital would simply no longer allow the use of the bed and the machinery, her mother found a way to bring equipment home to keep her breathing, and she prepared to take care of her. But the night before she was to be brought home, Hama's body surrendered on its own and even the respirator couldn't extend the breath of life.

It is now nine months later, and there is a bit of new sadness in her mother's eyes, but it was not outshone by the same sweet smile. She surprised me by speaking some English so well, and she laughed and told me she had just been embarrassed that she would say it wrong and so never tried before. Together with Hama's two sisters and brother, cousins and cousins' children, uncles and aunts, we all gathered at home and really just had a wonderful time together. There was so much laughter and acceptance, I actually felt like I was with family. It almost surprised me because I have actually only known them for a short time, and our visits have been few, yet it just seemed natural. With two young girls keeping us entertained, we all surrendered to their easy laughter and just enjoyed life together over spaghetti, Chinese soup, and shrimp—a little something for everyone! Hama's older sister is working at her first job and is so excited. Her younger sister has just started school and plans to be a lawyer. The loss did not go unrecognized, but neither did the life that remained.


Over coffee late that night with a friend, I was reminded how the realities of life do not always line up with the fairytales. And yet, it seems it is almost what is born out of our loss and struggles that creates the bond between us. For the things we can fix, it is a gift and a call that we should answer. For the things we can't, this is what we have each other for, and the simple act of being there is binding.

As I sit typing, I have watched the sun come up this morning and realize its time to go. I'll board a plane in a few hours and be on my way home.

Penang

I boarded a plane for Penang, barely making my connection, and at that only because the plane actually waited to get me on board. I slumped into the seat to take a breath, and readied myself for the trip ahead. I was on my way to visit two women Wellspring has had the privilege of sponsoring. Each in challenging circumstances, they have become friends to me and spending time with them and hearing their stories affects me in a different way than the business aspects sometimes called upon for larger scale projects. When you get to know people, it's always personal, as it really should be. And knowing that part of me would be drawn out by getting to see them, I looked forward to landing.

It was early afternoon by the time I landed after settling in I took the bus into town so the three of us could meet up. Jumping into a small taxi together, we headed to Little India. We walked into a small restaurant, also named Little India. This is the type of restaurant known for its authentic food rather than its charm, and we so we didn't waste any time sitting down and ordering chapatis and curry. Catching up on life, we eased into stories that brought us all laughter, and we just as easily moved into stories that brought sadness as we listened to the challenges each of them faces. In this way, the conversation resembled real life, with its ebb and flow and how it often seamlessly seems to move from struggle into a new season of hope, a constant winding between the things that make you hang on to it and the things that tempt you to give in to it. We walked around the narrow streets for a while, past speakers blaring the latest in Indian pop music, and vibrantly colored fabrics for saris. As afternoon turned into evening, we headed back to my bus stop. I felt sad to leave them, and wished so much there was more I could do. But as they have done before, they ended up hugging me reassuringly and promising me they are really okay, and that they see Wellspring as a reminder that God is watching. I climbed up the bus steps and turned around to see both of them waving goodbye with big smiles on their faces, and it was so cute I captured a quick picture to remember them sending me off until next time.

Jakarta

Veronica and I landed in Jakarta close to midnight, and as we tiredly said goodnight, we also confirmed details for our speaking engagement the next morning. It was career day at a local school, and together Veronica and I gave a 30 minute presentation on humanitarian work. We spoke to two classes of 14 year old students, and I gained a new sympathy for teachers as dozens of pairs of eyes looked at me with an expression that seemed to reveal they weren't quite sure if this was going to be entertaining or not! We had a few good questions, and the one that was most entertaining was asked by a young girl who said, with an element of doubt, "So do you actually make any money doing this kind of thing?" It was quite a fun experience, and while I enjoyed explaining what I do and why, I also really enjoyed hearing what they dreamed of doing one day, and why it appealed to them. I heard everything from psychologists to film directors to business persons—all worthy efforts, and all with a unique niche.

The following day, the RZIM itinerant team started to trickle in from their various places around the world. We attended a few speaking engagements for our fearless leader, and then our meetings began. It was a profitable three days. Strategy and goals were discussed in an effort to ensure we were working as a team and a shared focus. It was our first meeting with new team members from the Middle East and Asia, and it was helpful for all to put faces with names. As the organization continues to expand we see the growing need for a unified vision and the desire to look together to the future with a healthy dose of realizing the responsibility upon us and anticipating the opportunities that lie ahead.

We ended the meeting at a traditional Balinese restaurant where we ate more than we needed to and laughed just as much. For those of you who know Michael Ramsden, it's like traveling with your own personal comedian. He kept everyone in good spirits and all of us wishing we could have just a fraction of the energy. Then on Friday morning, we all went our separate directions, home to different countries or continuing on to further engagements. I was on my way to Penang.

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Aceh-Part 2

Our time in Aceh was full, which is why I decided to spare you from reading it all in one post. As we approached the building that houses several Wellspring projects, I was excited at the prospect of all I'd find. We first walked into our computer lab. We currently have 150 students enrolled in our computer course, each working on a computer purchased by Wellspring. With a curriculum from a Jakarta based university, each student is part of a three month course under the direction of a certified trainer. Their final exam is sent to Jakarta for grading, and the certificate of completion is stamped with the university seal. Most of the students are female, and this course will greatly assist them in obtaining suitable jobs.

We next walked into our beauty training salon, the first of its kind in Aceh. Fifteen girls very attentively applied makeup to their models as part of their three hour day. In three months, they will have completed hair and beauty training, be employed in the salon for an internship, and then be qualified for an outside position.

We then walked upstairs to the counseling center, where four counselors we have hired and trained are currently seeing 60 regular clients. Talking over orange juice and wonderful Acehnese fried peanuts, we spent some time talking with these therapists and learning of their experiences and challenges. What we heard is particularly interesting. In America, one can openly comment about visiting a therapist, and in fact, if you don't have one, you're in the minority. But in Acehnese culture, therapy and counseling, discussing fears and talking about grief, are entirely new ideas. And so initially, the people were skeptical. They were not sure they wanted to open up, or even how to do so. Today however, the counselors say the people can't wait to come again and have grown so appreciative of what they can share in confidence. The counselors' greatest problem now is turning down numerous marriage proposals from people just so thrilled to find someone who will listen to them!

After eating lunch at the two-week old Pizza Hut, we continued onto our final project, which is underway in two locations. We visited both villages and our tailoring projects at each site, where a total of 45 women are learning to make clothing. This group is still early in their learning, and they proudly showed us clothes they had made for themselves as part of their training. Some even modeled them for us, and laughed wholeheartedly when they tried them on. They were a very lively group of women of all ages. Currently, there is one salesman for both locations, who zips around on his motorbike with bundles of colorful clothes to sell.

It is with both a little sadness and much satisfaction that we anticipate turning all of our Acehnese projects over to local leadership in September. The first time I came to Aceh, we spent quite a bit of time at a refugee camp near the water. Once a village of 1500, only 300 people remained. Just hours before we had arrived, insurgents had attacked the camp and stolen medicines and clothing. A large mosque was an identifying landmark; one whole side of it had been destroyed by the water, and it was somehow barely supported by broken pillars. I asked to visit this same location, as its memory has stayed so vividly in my mind.

The mosque is now fully repaired, and only the bent star on the very top of the dome reminds you of the powerful wave that once swept over it. There is no longer a refugee camp, and brilliant green vegetation is all around. But what surprised me most was the color of the water. Before, it had been almost black in color. And now, I suppose as sediment has settled, it has returned to what was its natural color—a gorgeous shade of electric green. With the pure white sand as a contrast, it is a picture so striking, you don't even want to blink. As I stood in the middle of the street in front of the mosque, two boys flew toward me on their bicycles. They were racing, and just laughing and riding with abandon with their hair blowing in the wind. And I thought it was a really beautiful picture. Sometimes when you are immersed in something, you fail to see the sign of healing and growth, as they tend to come in baby steps easily missed. But as an outsider with a periodic view, it was incredible to see the signs of restoration. We can never replace what was lost, and the lives will never be forgotten, but you see one foot moving forward and new life on the horizon.

Wednesday, June 6, 2007

Aceh, Part 1

On the day we were to leave for Aceh, I was scheduled to be picked up at 4:30 in morning. I even surprised myself to be waiting outside a whole 5 minutes early. This is one of the benefits of international travel; before my body adjusts to a new time zone, I'm early to everything for about two days. I had just arrived in Jakarta the day before—after over 30 hours of travel—so I was tired, but the anticipation of the trip and the flipped body clock had me ready to go. I met Veronica, the director of YCAB, at the airport and we boarded our flight to Banda Aceh, in what was our third trip to one of the locations most severely damaged by the tsunami.

We landed almost two hours later, and were met by Steven, the YCAB representative who left his home in Jakarta to move to Aceh and be our on-the-ground project manager. I asked him how he had been doing since I saw him last year, and he very honestly answered with a smile and shake of his head, "Today? Not so good!" Steven has been the crucial element to any success for these projects. While for us the sacrifice of being away from home and unfamiliar culture are temporary, he has willingly made it his home.

To provide a bit of history, last year YCAB established these projects in Aceh along with several approved NGO's joining together for a UN emergency relief plan. Wellspring underwrote the approved YCAB projects under this UN umbrella. As the UN only stays in regions for a set amount of time, they pulled out a few months ago, in keeping with their deadline. YCAB and Wellspring decided to stay longer, in an effort to provide ongoing support and enable us to slowly pass the baton to local managers. Our hope is that the projects we have started will now continue, but in the hands of those to whom they truly belong.

On my first visit to Aceh, which was six weeks after the tsunami, all I could see was sand, and I thought the terrain was desert-like. At this time, bodies were still being recovered, and a painful silence hung in the air, the sound of intense despair. On my return trip one year later, I was shocked by all the sprouting vegetation and signs of new life. And now, another year later, it was an island. Full of coconut trees and flowers and shrubs, it was beautiful and I would never have guessed it to be the same place. We drove through the country side, passing rice fields and semi-permanent housing provided by the government. There are also permanent brand new homes that are being built in the villages where some of our projects exist. Aren't they cute?

We stopped to peek into a primary school that is funded by UNICEF. These cute, tiny little children sat in desks bigger than they were, reading numbers from a chalk board. Their big brown eyes stared at us cautiously, but shy smiles quickly followed. We spent a few minutes talking with those operating the small school, and introduced ourselves. Wishing them every success, we continued on our way. As we pulled up to a small building, a big smile broke out on my face as I was met with a red sign outside that said "Wellspring International." It never ceases to affect me when I see this name, representing so many of you around the world, a mark of your presence somewhere far away.


Check back in with me tomorrow when I post the remainder of our time in Aceh.

Tuesday, May 29, 2007

Jakarta

I am, as the song goes, “on the road again…” I left Atlanta this afternoon, and am now sitting in the Los Angeles airport waiting for my next flight to take me Singapore, where I will then take the last leg of this outbound journey to Jakarta. I will be spending two weeks in Asia, first heading to Aceh to visit and check in on our ongoing tsunami project with Veronica Colondom, director of Yayasan Cinta Anak Bangsa (http://www.ycab.org/). YCAB is the Jakarta based NGO that Wellspring partnered with in northern Sumatra.

After our visit in Aceh, we will travel together back to Jakarta, where I will be attending the RZIM itinerant team meeting. This will not likely be a blog-friendly event with the same sense of adventure as previous entries, but a team of apologists meeting in Indonesia is actually still quite an adventure. These meetings are valuable for all involved, keeping us updated on the international office initiatives and the recent experiences and upcoming schedules of each itinerant member. Our annual meeting together allows us to keep up to date with an international team spread across the globe. It also helps us to retain our unified focus and brainstorm ways to maximize our efforts.

After these team meetings conclude, I will travel on to Penang, Malaysia, to visit two women that Wellspring supports monthly to provide basic living needs and education costs for their children. These women are both facing significant challenges with the kind of courage and determination that is not required of all of us. We became fast friends on my first visit to meet them almost exactly a year ago. One is a lovable girl with a little fire in her as she rides her motorcycle through town, and the other is the epitome of sweetness and grace. The purpose of this visit is to continue the ongoing relationship, spend some time with them, and reevaluate their monthly needs.

My final stop will be in Kuala Lumpur. Many of you might remember our heartbreak of last year, when we lost 22 year old Hama just weeks before she was to travel to receive a kidney transplant. Visiting them last summer with Jill Carattini from our office, and Bob Tigert, our videographer from Tigert Communications, we finalized arrangements for her travel--documenting costs, confirming the budget, and completing paperwork--and spent a night at her family’s home over a large dinner and much laughter and excitement. I will never forget Hama's mother, whose image is forever etched in my mind. We were limited in our communication due to the language barrier. But this quiet woman of small stature never stopped smiling at us, and every time we made eye contact, she would fold her hands and bow her head slightly to convey her gratitude. After spreading out our paperwork one last time, we left the small restaurant near our hotel on our final night, taking pictures together and smiling about the future before this bright, young girl. It never dawned on me that those pictures would be the memories we have of our time with her before she left the world as we know it, depriving it of a beautiful smile. (Please see the video at the top right of the blog for Hama's Story.)

Since that day in August, this will be my first time seeing her family again. I am truly looking forward to another evening together, this time with new sadness and hugs of a different meaning, but also with memories and the assurance that Hama was a gift, and that their story continues.

Thank you for keeping up with me along the journey. I will be in touch soon.

Naomi



Friday, May 18, 2007

Turkey

We landed in Istanbul just before dawn, and watched the sunrise on our decent into the city. We were met by Senem, an RZIM friend in Istanbul. Our afternoon was spent taking in a bit of the city. We had lunch at a café on the water and then enjoyed a short cruise through Marmara Sea, an inland sea that connects the Black Sea to the Aegean Sea. Floating down the Bosphorus Straight, on one side we could see the part of Istanbul that lies in Asia, and on our other side, the part that lies in Europe.

An interesting blend of both east and west, Istanbul was quite unique compared to the other cities we visited along the way. You still wake up to the prayer call at 5am every morning, but it is quite a cosmopolitan city. We wound our way through the tiny alley ways that make up an outdoor market, and even somehow managed to keep my mother from following through on her good intentions of breaking up a street fight that started right in front of us. I realized on this trip that she had even more courage and spunk than I knew! Thankfully, this time, she decided to let them work it out for themselves. We met up with Senem’s husband and three year old little boy in the evening, and then we all turned in reasonably early to get ready for our busy day of meetings.


Our first meeting was with an organization that was one of the first shelters in Istanbul for women who are victims of domestic violence. Answering about 300 phone calls and applications a month, this effort seeks either to refer women to the appropriate place for help, or in severe circumstances, provide shelter for them and their children while they get back on their feet. This was an initial step in the interview process, and they are preparing a detailed proposal for our review. The shelter has operated thus far largely on an international grant, but the funds have now been fully utilized and future funding is in question.

Our second meeting was with a representative from the Istanbul Protestant Church Foundation. Following the earthquake of 1999 that left more than 17,000 people dead, the Foundation built a school for children directly affected by the tragedy. In this initial brain-storming meeting, we discussed potential opportunities to partner, particularly in areas concerning education for youth, as the educational opportunity for young girls remains quite low in certain parts of Istanbul due to the cultural responsibilities and financial limitations of poverty.

Next we met with an organizational effort that reaches out to homeless children, providing food, showers, laundry facilities, etc., to about 35 children a day, and providing 24-hour care to an additional 35 children in a separate facility. Here, we spent time asking questions of a woman who works in the administrative part of the organization. But what moved us was the input of a young man, perhaps in his early twenties, who joined the conversation. He himself had grown up on the streets, and had been a child who visited the shelter for basic needs. Though he did not speak a word of English, we did not even have to wait for Senem’s translation to be able to understand the passion and depth of suffering he had faced. It is sometimes amazing to realize what can be communicated without any understanding of the actual words. He provided us with a face, a real look at the life of a child growing up in these circumstances, and now a man living with the effects of these conditions. He said education is not even enough to solve the crisis, and so we asked him what would be of help to these children. And while he, like all of us, couldn’t give a text book answer for a perfect solution, his answer was filled with the heartache of it all, and the certainty that there was no simple way out. What hurt my heart most was when he said that even if by chance these children get the opportunity for education, and even if by greater chance they can get a job, they often return to the streets because they are never totally accepted in the “real” world, and so their shame drives them back to the streets where no one looks down on them and where they can feel at home. Their days are filled with violence, he said, and he has lost many friends in street fights, but it’s easier to live a life of crime and violence, and essentially disrespect yourself, than it is to make yourself vulnerable to others and have them do the disrespecting for you. I wished right then, that we could just fix his world, just that one. He spoke of the need for counseling and therapy to help them recover from where they had been, and he spoke of efforts geared toward prevention to eliminate the damage for some in the first place. He gave us much to think about, and the intensity of the angst in his eyes will not be forgotten.

Finally, we ended the afternoon with a meeting with a group striving to open a shelter for teenage girls who have left homes or marriages for various reasons involving safety and care. The project is still very new in its undertaking, and we will keep in touch as they move forward and continue to gain a better understanding of their work.

The three of us then crumpled into a taxi, mentally drained from the series of intense meetings, but all time well spent. Senem, who bore the greatest burden in providing complete translation on both sides of the conversation in each meeting, had red eyes that you could tell longed for her guests to leave so they could rest a bit! Yet she smiled and welcomed us for more time with her before our departure. So we hit the streets for some last minute gift shopping and a final dinner with Senem, her husband, and that little boy who won over my mother’s heart with the first flash of his dimples. Rising at 3:30am, the three of us headed to the airport, where Senem bid us goodbye and returned home for what I hope was a very long nap that she more than earned.

And now we are home. Glad to be near family and friends and return to the life that bears our imprint, but as always, is not quite the same as when we left.

Thursday, May 17, 2007

Lebanon

Arriving in Lebanon, we were greeted by friends very special to us, Sami and Joy Dagher. We stayed in their home, so as well as accomplishing work on behalf of Wellspring, we were able to spend some time talking and catching up with the Dagher’s and various friends in Beirut. On Saturday morning, we first went to eat breakfast with Denise, Hida, and Jad Dagher. After unexpectedly losing a husband and treasured father, Denise and her children have continued to honor his memory. They miss him tremendously, but live their lives with grace and perhaps a new found strength. RZIM has had the privilege of providing education costs for Hida and Jad. They smiled bashfully as their mother proudly showed us their most recent report cards. I exchanged a wink with Jad, as both he and I had similar experiences of trying to fill the impressive shoes of other siblings! They are wonderful kids, and were so warm and affectionate with us. I found myself instantly looking forward to the next time I would get to see them.


Leaving mom with Denise to catch up for a while, I left with Sami to visit Aida and her sweet 13 year-old daughter. I met them for the first time last year when Sami took me to visit their small home down a tiny side street in Beirut. Though still young, Aida is unable to walk due to a severe case of osteoporosis and she is confined to her single bed in the living room. In addition, she has lived with the effects of accidental multiple organ removal. She entered a hospital with appendicitis and ended up waking from extensive surgery that she didn’t need, her file having been inadvertently mixed up with another. Contributing to her monthly costs for medicines and providing some help maintaining the house, Wellspring has had the opportunity to get to know this family. While faced with physical and financial challenges beyond what most know, their faces light up with genuine smiles and always welcome me with hugs that comfort more than they know. I can only hope one day I am even a little like them.


After leaving our respective places, Margie and Joy met up with Sami and me to go to a friend’s house for lunch, and a feast unlike anything I have ever seen! One thing is for sure, after this trip we will be carrying the Middle East home with us quite literally; just from these few weeks of generous hospitality, our clothes are feeling a bit more snug! After a conversation filled with both laughter and deep discussion of situations around the globe, we headed back to Sami and Joy’s for a short time of relaxation and final meal of schwarma before heading to the airport at 1 am to catch our next flight. I was sad to leave them behind, as they have quickly become like family and their home a place in which I am at rest. But with promises of future visits, we said goodbye and left before dawn for our next destination…Istanbul.

Saturday, May 12, 2007

Syria


In keeping with our trip so far, Syria was incredibly full—both in schedule and in heart. But our first day in Damascus began with a gift from God. Having exhausted ourselves in Jordan, though the time was rich with old friends and new, we were happy to have a full day to rest. Our contact here had to leave unexpectedly for the day, and so we took the opportunity to sleep. We ventured out of our slumber only for a meeting that evening with the new RZIM representative for the Middle East and his wife, as well as a local pastor and his wife. Damascus is thought to be the oldest continuously inhabited city in the world. Walking though the winding streets of the old city, seeing the house where Ananias is thought to have healed Paul of his blindness, we found this trivia quite believable. Stepping back into modern Damascus with all its buildings and traffic is like stepping forward into time.




The following day we went to see a clinic that was started by a church to help Iraqi refugees and low income families with health care. It is strategically located in a less affluent area, with the hope that those in need will come for the care that is being offered. Driving through the tiny streets, we passed soldiers, furniture for sale, and sheep that seemed completely oblivious to the sounds of blaring horns and shuffling people around them. The apartment buildings are clearly in need of some care, although every rooftop is absolutely full of the provisions for proper television. One man said to us, "Many have no food, but they have a satellite dish." This area of Damascus is called "Tabbale," and is very interesting, as all of the buildings were built illegally. Hundreds of wires cross each other in the street; any electrical engineer would declare it a danger zone. But the builders somehow made it work, and each person knows which wires are his own! The area was quickly inhabited, and the government was at a loss as to how to proceed. The people need housing, and there is no where else for them to go—so, here the community stands.


As we walked into the clinic we were greeted by the doctors; some are from Iraq, one is from Finland, and most are from Syria. On staff is a cardiologist, an internist, a gastroenterologist, a general practitioner, an OB/GYN, and a dentist. Some are paid minimally; some are only volunteering. They see a total of about 400 patients a month, charging a minimal amount per patient—for those seeing medical doctors, the cost is $1. The waiting room was filled with men, women, and children, the clinic buzzing with activity, as we sat drinking our tea and eating hot bread from the Iraqi bakery next door while the doctors shared their hopes and goals. There are 3 specific projects they would like help with: the first is purchasing a panoramic x-ray machine for dentistry, the second is a monthly donation for partial costs of the medicines they are distributing, and the third involves raising the funds for an onsite lab and technician.


After this hopeful meeting, we went to see the old city wall believed to be the place where the apostle Paul was lowered in a basket to escape capture from his enemies. "After many days had gone by, they conspired to kill him, but Saul learned of their plan. Day and night they kept close watch on the city gates in order to kill him. But his followers took him by night and lowered him in a basket through an opening in the wall" (Acts 9:22-25). It is a truly strange feeling to find yourself standing in a place of such significant history. We were immediately taken in at the thought of it, and the solid image of history before of us.


After lunch we walked through the market in the old town. Dodging people, cars, and bicycles on narrow cobblestone streets, one is kept from daydreaming as you wind your way through a town so alive. It is a beautiful city that engages so much inside of you as you try to take it all in. The people are warm and kind, and you somehow feel at home.

From Damascus we left for Lebanon, which became an adventure in and of itself. We spent over 16 hours in 3 airports in various capacities yesterday—on the tarmac for 2 hours, waiting out a sand storm for almost 6, nearly missing one flight and completely missing another, which then gave us another 6 hours of wandering in another airport. All this for a trip that would have been 2 hours by road.

More to come,


Naomi and Margie

Monday, May 7, 2007

Jordan

Hello again from the road! We have had a very productive few days, and our exhausted minds and bodies are vouching for it. Our final morning in the United Arab Emirates ended with some distinctive Middle Eastern hospitality—and a television interview, too. We had breakfast with an RZIM board member and his family, and shortly thereafter we began filming with the crew from Power Vision, a network that can be viewed throughout the Middle East and Asia.

From the UAE we then traveled to Jordan where we were met by our host, a woman who courageously came to faith many years ago, firing questions at a man named Ravi Zacharias along the way. Muna formerly worked in the palace as secretary to Queen Noor. In between meetings with various organizations, Muna has showed us more of Jordan than we thought possible in so few days.


It is always a privilege to see the good work of so many hands across the world and the few organizations we visited in Jordan were no exception. The Jordanian Evangelical Committee for Relief and Development is an organization that started in 1990 during the last Gulf War as a result of a felt need for combined relief efforts. They represent many evangelical churches and parachurch organizations within Jordan, with a united vision to meet relief and development needs within the region. Their projects have included providing food for refugees, meeting shelter needs of hundreds of individuals, and initiating more than 148 small businesses. They are currently working to provide assistance to meet the educational needs of Iraqi refuges in the already overcrowded and under-funded Jordanian school system. Five hundred dollars a year will support 1 Iraqi child in a local school, which is including the costs for books and uniforms. JECRAD are hoping to be able to support 100 children this year.


They are also working to provide toys for these children at home. Due to overcrowding, many of these refugees are unable to go to school. They have little to do, no toys at all, and nothing to encourage creativity and learning. This organization believes that even this slight attempt to improve conditions for these children is well worth the investment. The latest estimate is that there are nearly 1 million refugees in Jordan, which is 1/5 of the country's entire population.




In the midst of this alarming statistic, another organization at work in Jordan is called Loving Ministry. This small but passionate group of women is working to provide philanthropic outreach amongst needy families in Jordan and Syria. They are currently raising funds to cover the costs of food, tuition, and medical support for these families.


To this our first long day of meetings and sharing, we concluded appropriately with a leisurely, traditional Arabic meal. And then we crashed.


***


Sunday was quickly filled with more sights and stories. We began at the Christian and Missionary Alliance Church in Amman. The service was beautiful, filled with incredible Middle Eastern singing. After the service we meet with the pastor to discuss the church's current efforts. They have started a clinic for refugees, which is staffed with 3 volunteer doctors and 3 volunteer nurses. All care and medicines are free of charge. The church has also started a food coupon program for 300 Iraqi families. As refugees are not permitted to work in Jordan, there is no income for these families, and since there are no refugee camps, they must completely fend for themselves. The food coupon gives each family a 30 dollar gift certificate to a local supermarket, which must last them for two months.




After this meeting, we drove with Muna to Jerash to see a complete Roman city that has been excavated. Archaeologists began uncovering the ruins in the 1960's and discovered an entire city. The view was stunning. It was also incredibly hot—over 100 degrees—and the stones seemed to absorb the heat and reflect it back on you.





We left Jerash and drove to Muna's farm, which is an olive orchard in the mountains. It was lovely with a beautiful breeze. Her husband had prepared mensef for us, a traditional Jordanian dish that is eaten with your hands. All in all, it was quite a day.




***


The following day began early for Naomi with a meeting with the director of Global Hope Network-Jordan. The organization is headquartered in the US and is a humanitarian offshoot of Campus Crusade. They proposed to us a project that would distribute 50 sewing machines to widows in Iraq. The machines would provide them with a source of income, and their work would then provide shoes for children all over Middle East.



The day then progressed with an eventful meeting at the palace of Queen Rania. We met with her assistant, the Education Specialist in the Initiatives Department. This meeting went very well. Queen Rania tried to be there but was unfortunately delayed. We spent about an hour discussing several potential options for Wellspring to come alongside the ongoing efforts of the Jordanian Initiatives Department. At the conclusion of the meeting, all agreed to continue planning and to make arrangements for Naomi to meet with the Queen on her next visit to Jordan, where plans can be discussed in further detail.



As a fitting conclusion to a day of meetings, we spent the late afternoon taking in the Dead Sea and Mount Nebo, the place from which Moses saw the Promised Land. The experience was incredible; the views surreal.



From these incredible sights we departed for a big Arabic dinner with a local family, and a meeting with a woman who currently directing a prison ministry to 10 different prisons, 7000 prisoners in Jordan. This organization seeks to build relationships, provide basic needs, and to facilitate the freedom process for many. A great number of women have been brought in from other countries to provide household help to local families. Many are mistreated, and run away. But without papers, they are then arrested. Due to the language barrier, many cannot even defend themselves and court becomes only an obstacle to freedom. Prisons will let these women go home if they can be deported immediately, but often the girls don't have the money to do so. This organization provides the plane tickets home so that they can be released. This year alone, this ministry has helped 60 prisoners find freedom and a means to travel home.



As you can imagine, we are exhausted but full. We have met with so many important hands and minds extending themselves for their neighbors and for those who have become their neighbors in hardship and unrest.



Today we will be meeting with Prince Ra'ad, who is the head of Jordanian humanitarian issues for the King. We will be visiting a community center for Iraqi refugee children, and then we will be boarding another plane and heading to another country.