After a lovely night out to see Invictus at a house group (The story of Nelson Mandela's hope in south african rugby team to win but most importantly to bring reconciliation, forgiveness and the nation togther). I am seeing this thread of HOPE! I have being thinking about HOPE in God. What it really means in a practical sense and how it can encourage, influence and open doors for a more positive outcome . Especially, so in the last two weeks.
I dont know if it is just me or if its really happpening but it seems most places I go there is a theme of HOPE. And tonight once again confirmed this.
I walked into CUP (Children's Uplift Programme) on Monday, and Beth showed me around, I could here her talking but in my head I was having a conversation with myself, as I looked at the women, sew the sari blankets, the ladies look after ther children, the ladies in the night shelter looking after one another and in the office staff members working diligently to support the ladies who acces the center.
There in my head was the conversation: WHAT KEPT THESE LADIES COMING BACK DAY AFTER DAY? WHAT INSPIRED THERE REQUEST TO WORK AN EXTRA DAY? Increasing there 5 day week, to a 6 day week. Especially, when it is probrable the general consesus of London would vote in favour of working one less day.
I believe the answer to be HOPE! Hope that tommorow will be brighter, Hope that if they work together something positive will happen. Hope that there children too can be somebody because of the steps they are taking today.
They've now seen some evidence of there hope manifesting into a reality. Seeing CUP change offices, get more staff, facilitate an emergency night shlelter, orders from foreign people creeping in. All in aid of supporting them. The dream in there hearts takes up deeper roots, as small acorns grow. Here they experience acceptance for who they are, and see they have worth, value and necessary ideas. They know they are good at making something that people want to buy, and they no longer have to support them selves or there families by selling sex. Hope inspires them to soldier on, hope for there furture and disregard of the unnecessary evils of there past.
On the first day I visited the Children's Uplift Programme (CUP) , they had just recieved great news. Four of there children who were with out parents, passed the test and got into mainstream school. The place was buzzing with excitement and it's hope, defiance, and blessings of a loving God who opened this door for these children. And it is the same hope that would encourage CUP staff to put them selves at risk to see these children and there mothers supported.
My first day at CUP was interesting, Amongst other things, I witnessed a pimp harrasing and threathening behaviour towards CUP staff and her own children. She threathened to strangle her younger child, if the child she wanted to pimp out, who was now with CUP did not return with her. I thought this was extreme behaviour and no mother would do such a thing, but I was surprised to hear she had already tried strangling her own child but thanks to intervention was unsuccessfull.
This woman is desperate for money to feed her family and sees CUP as intervening in her access to bread and butter. This little girl sold in to prostitution is her Hope for everyday survival. The little girl in question is 9 years old, but looks more like 7 years old, she is a smart beautiful little girl who was trying to teach me Bangla that morning before the incident happened, but she has decided to hold on to hope. She decided not to return with her pimp because she hopes for a better furture. She is one of the children who got in to school. May school be the first step towards the future God has laid up for her, and the good plans he has for her comes to pass. Praise God she, was snatched from the dark world of prostitution and she no longer has to be groomed for this line of work.
I witnessed hope again, that afternoon in a childrens club in one of Dhaka's slums. Here I found a lovely lady from the western world who was determined to support children to get an education in the slum. I visited on the day of the boys club, This was the tiniest room, not much bigger than an average London bathroom, but unbelievably over 40 boys attended all squashed in with there legs folded sitting on the floor. This was there class room, and it was there first day back to school. She called the roll and I photographed each child.
I use the term child loosely as this class consisted of boys from age 5 up to age 14 all learning the same thing, and showing respect for each other. A common goal was shared, getting an education could mean something better than there current life is possible. They listened attentively and sang together. I looked at the older boys and wonder why at 14 they were happy to sit in a class with 5 year olds and learn the same thing, and displaying the same enthusiasm, and not being rude or any of the "normal" behaviour westerners expect from teenage boys. Again, there it came, These boys had HOPE planted in there heart. There was a time they were illiterate but now they have varied levels of literacy. These boys are roses who are begining to spring from concrete. And I am looking forward to working with them over the next few months.
Hope being the open door for inspiration, new ideas, possibilities, the silver lining in the grey cloud! Hold on to Hope. It abounds in the heart and reflects in actions. Hope In CHRIST!
Saturday, 15 January 2011
The Honeymoon!- Well Sort of- Welcome to Dhaka
I had imagined my first writing in Bangladesh to be filled with these interesting and emotional facts, but I mostly find my self amused by a culture I thought i could see from a distance but soon realised I did not have the foggiest idea as I tried and failed to analyse with my western mentality and ideology pre arrival.
We have being here 8 days now and it feels like a month has gone by, each day has being actioned pack and filled with so much. Slum school, church, CUP, orientation, Meetings, school, Bangla lessons, teaching english, nerts (ask Hannah she is totally obsessed and drawing me in slowly) , socials, socials, rickshaws, food, food, poverty, begging, cricket, and the list goes on and on...................................
It really hit me that life was about to change, when boarding the plane from Dubai to Dhaka. People showed no regard for each other or for children. It seemed like a race of, the survival of the fittest. Marquel fell over as he pulled the hand luggage in the queue. I turn around to help him up, but had a brief few moments of fighting to get to him as the people behind him stepped over him, and over him, until I asserted myself to get to him, so I could pick him up, whilst I was picking him up, it soon became apparent this was an opportunity for as many people who were behind us in the queue to push forward and climb over us.
WOW! WOW! I tried to convince myself of this being a one off occurrence but my hopes were soon to be dashed when I boarded the plane, and on arrival in Dhaka. I have never seen such anarchy on a flight, especially on landing, cabin crew " waved,signalled and shouted for people to sit down, whilst the plane came into land, the fasten your seat belt sign was on, but people just ignored it and proceeded to open over head lockers and completely ignore the instructions of the cabin crew and later the captain. I was later to find out this anarchy was a regular occurrence on flights in to Dhaka. I could keep going about self centred attitudes towards each other within the airport but I shall swiftly move on.
After negotiating the traffic of airport road (please note NEGOTIATING is the key word here, it was a game of dodgems, just the way people drive here, the rule is keep going, and be the first infront of everybody else , come what may, but maybe give a little way to a vehicle bigger than yourself if you really must and you are sure they are about to run you off the road).
For the purpose of honouring my host country and visa regulations, I must refrain from placing names and being too specific about companies, etc. Hopefully, my writings will be transparent whilst abiding to the rules.
Dhaka- I have named it the city of Contrasts, with an unusual charm! :-)
I continually find things to chuckle about.For Example, after a week of observing I soon noticed a trend. Ear muffs are in! Serious fashion statement, especially the leopard print and plaid ones. I am yet to go outside and not continuously see people wearing them, BUT with T-shirts and sandals! WHY? I dont get it, if your ears are cold, surely your body is too right?
Then there are these spoilt cows, who have the vegetables cut up for them in huge bowls, the area they sleep swept to perfection, and get this, a fleece blanket over there bodies, along with a plastic coat over the fleece blanket to protect it from the rain, whilst its owner lives in a shack next to the smelly lake, with very little cover or any real clothing. I have concluded, in Dhaka, I would much rather be a poor cow, than a poor human! Here, Here!
What I am sure you all want to know really is how we are doing? Well, it is truly hard to sum this up in a concise statement. Everything is so different, the langalanguage food , the people, my clothes, church, mannerisms, etc etc. I am currently just taking it all in and trying not to mess up too much , I have already occasionally forgotten to take my shoes off at the door and twice passed something with my left hand and touched food with my left hand. These gestures are offencive. I find myself trying to constantly remember what I can and can't do.
Though the native people are not excluded from reminding themselves of what they can and cant do. Prime Example, On my first independant ride to my orientation meeting, my CNG (a motorbike taxi) travelled on the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic, to help us get out of traffic and hurry to my destination.I didn't get too anxious as I had noted driving here is chaotic and there isn't much discipline. That was until, I noticed he and few other dirvers did the same thing outside of the police training academy and out came the police with there sticks poking into the CNG's and threatening drivers. Thankfully my CNG was cramped inbetween others, so my driver didnot feel the brunt of the stick.
I am slowly adjusting to what seems like excessive noise levels. If it isnt the sound of constant traffic and beeping, its people talking loudly. And next door there are some construction works going on. Ear plugs are doing little to stem this constant noise.
Quel has started school and loves the princely treatment he recievereceivesA stark contrast to children we see as we go around Dhakaon a rickshaw. Families living at the side of the road, children begging, many dirty and without shoes. The streets are about to be cleaned up though, as there is a current goverment initiative starting in a few days to move all the beggars before the cricket world cup, that is to take place here. This will be another interuption in these peoples lives who live on the edge of society and are fighting for there everyday survival. They will be displaced in another area, away from the watchfull eye of the tourists, but not given any housing or support. A problem to be hidden and not addressed. I do understand this is a city of 12 million people and it is a 1/3 the size of london with mass infrastructure problems, but surely it would be better to address the problems rather than hid them away.
In this city I have also seen some of the Grandest houses, I have ever laid eyes on. Huge mansions, and top range vehicles to match. Oppulent restaurants and lots of beauty to be seen. This is truly the city of Contrasts!
Over the next week I will begin to become more independant, so far I have had some help to travel most places and to cross the road. And my orientation has tried to prepare me for some of this new life.
I will post some photos once I sort out my camera.
Blessings to you all!
We have being here 8 days now and it feels like a month has gone by, each day has being actioned pack and filled with so much. Slum school, church, CUP, orientation, Meetings, school, Bangla lessons, teaching english, nerts (ask Hannah she is totally obsessed and drawing me in slowly) , socials, socials, rickshaws, food, food, poverty, begging, cricket, and the list goes on and on...................................
It really hit me that life was about to change, when boarding the plane from Dubai to Dhaka. People showed no regard for each other or for children. It seemed like a race of, the survival of the fittest. Marquel fell over as he pulled the hand luggage in the queue. I turn around to help him up, but had a brief few moments of fighting to get to him as the people behind him stepped over him, and over him, until I asserted myself to get to him, so I could pick him up, whilst I was picking him up, it soon became apparent this was an opportunity for as many people who were behind us in the queue to push forward and climb over us.
WOW! WOW! I tried to convince myself of this being a one off occurrence but my hopes were soon to be dashed when I boarded the plane, and on arrival in Dhaka. I have never seen such anarchy on a flight, especially on landing, cabin crew " waved,signalled and shouted for people to sit down, whilst the plane came into land, the fasten your seat belt sign was on, but people just ignored it and proceeded to open over head lockers and completely ignore the instructions of the cabin crew and later the captain. I was later to find out this anarchy was a regular occurrence on flights in to Dhaka. I could keep going about self centred attitudes towards each other within the airport but I shall swiftly move on.
After negotiating the traffic of airport road (please note NEGOTIATING is the key word here, it was a game of dodgems, just the way people drive here, the rule is keep going, and be the first infront of everybody else , come what may, but maybe give a little way to a vehicle bigger than yourself if you really must and you are sure they are about to run you off the road).
For the purpose of honouring my host country and visa regulations, I must refrain from placing names and being too specific about companies, etc. Hopefully, my writings will be transparent whilst abiding to the rules.
Dhaka- I have named it the city of Contrasts, with an unusual charm! :-)
I continually find things to chuckle about.For Example, after a week of observing I soon noticed a trend. Ear muffs are in! Serious fashion statement, especially the leopard print and plaid ones. I am yet to go outside and not continuously see people wearing them, BUT with T-shirts and sandals! WHY? I dont get it, if your ears are cold, surely your body is too right?
Then there are these spoilt cows, who have the vegetables cut up for them in huge bowls, the area they sleep swept to perfection, and get this, a fleece blanket over there bodies, along with a plastic coat over the fleece blanket to protect it from the rain, whilst its owner lives in a shack next to the smelly lake, with very little cover or any real clothing. I have concluded, in Dhaka, I would much rather be a poor cow, than a poor human! Here, Here!
What I am sure you all want to know really is how we are doing? Well, it is truly hard to sum this up in a concise statement. Everything is so different, the langalanguage food , the people, my clothes, church, mannerisms, etc etc. I am currently just taking it all in and trying not to mess up too much , I have already occasionally forgotten to take my shoes off at the door and twice passed something with my left hand and touched food with my left hand. These gestures are offencive. I find myself trying to constantly remember what I can and can't do.
Though the native people are not excluded from reminding themselves of what they can and cant do. Prime Example, On my first independant ride to my orientation meeting, my CNG (a motorbike taxi) travelled on the wrong side of the road into oncoming traffic, to help us get out of traffic and hurry to my destination.I didn't get too anxious as I had noted driving here is chaotic and there isn't much discipline. That was until, I noticed he and few other dirvers did the same thing outside of the police training academy and out came the police with there sticks poking into the CNG's and threatening drivers. Thankfully my CNG was cramped inbetween others, so my driver didnot feel the brunt of the stick.
I am slowly adjusting to what seems like excessive noise levels. If it isnt the sound of constant traffic and beeping, its people talking loudly. And next door there are some construction works going on. Ear plugs are doing little to stem this constant noise.
Quel has started school and loves the princely treatment he recievereceivesA stark contrast to children we see as we go around Dhakaon a rickshaw. Families living at the side of the road, children begging, many dirty and without shoes. The streets are about to be cleaned up though, as there is a current goverment initiative starting in a few days to move all the beggars before the cricket world cup, that is to take place here. This will be another interuption in these peoples lives who live on the edge of society and are fighting for there everyday survival. They will be displaced in another area, away from the watchfull eye of the tourists, but not given any housing or support. A problem to be hidden and not addressed. I do understand this is a city of 12 million people and it is a 1/3 the size of london with mass infrastructure problems, but surely it would be better to address the problems rather than hid them away.
In this city I have also seen some of the Grandest houses, I have ever laid eyes on. Huge mansions, and top range vehicles to match. Oppulent restaurants and lots of beauty to be seen. This is truly the city of Contrasts!
Over the next week I will begin to become more independant, so far I have had some help to travel most places and to cross the road. And my orientation has tried to prepare me for some of this new life.
I will post some photos once I sort out my camera.
Blessings to you all!
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