Saturday, May 31, 2014

The Good Missionary

Read a blog today that I thought had some really fascinating insights into the benefits and costs of short term missions teams. Got a couple minutes - here's the article written by Samuel Ikua Gachagua and originally posted here 

"I owe my life to missionaries. Growing up as an AIDS orphan in rural Kenya, missionaries—some long-term, some short-term—intervened at key junctions in my life.
Missionaries helped start the children's home that saved me from being destitute. Missionaries sent some of my most beloved friends, mentors, and supporters to my doorstep. And through the years I learned the difference between mission teams that helped and those that didn't. Perhaps my story will be a tool for your own discernment as you reach out to others.
For the first time, I saw what it was like to be the one offering help.
I lost my father at a young age and was soon abandoned by my mother as well. So at the age of 11, I lived with my 13-year-old brother and 5-year-old sister. We found ways to survive, selling plastic bags of water to earn money for food. But we regularly dropped out of school.
My life changed when a pair of pastors—one Kenyan, one American—started a children's home. When I was able to live there, I knew my life had changed forever. One day, after a few years of living there, I met two young American women who were traveling through the area. They had blonde hair that hung in their eyes, and they talked to me in a grown-up way I'd rarely been talked to before.
They lived at my orphanage for a year, starting a non-profit called Hope Runs, and ultimately bringing me to the United States. The book Hope Runs: An American Tourist, a Kenyan Boy, a Journey of Redemption tells the story of the strange, makeshift family we have formed.
At first, though, I was wary of them, and so were my friends. Living in an orphanage, I'd had many experiences with missionaries who came to help over the years. Some had done just that, ultimately changing my life and the lives of my peers. Some had only added to our hardship (more on that later). White people—mzungus, as we call them in Kenya—had not always been the best visitors. What would it be like to have this pair of girls around for so long? With time, though, I grew to know, trust, and love them.
Over time, I understood in a way that many of my friends did not, that mzungus couldn't drop their lives in the U.S. to live with my friends and me in our orphanage. I saw, eventually, that sometimes good things could happen in those few days when missionaries were there.
Years later, I would gain a much more comprehensive perspective. When I came to start high school in the U.S., I felt that my American peers saw me like the missionaries did—like a needy orphan. With time, though, I learned to walk and talk and think like my new high school friends around me. Most important, I learned what it meant to be able to extend resources to others.
Focus less on "helping," and more on cross-cultural exchange.
In my senior year of high school, I ran a campaign that made the local news, collecting thousands of pairs of running shoes for my peers in orphanages back home. The year after high school, I took this concept of service a step further and spent a year volunteering on a service project in Ecuador. For the first time, I saw what it was like to walk into a community and be the one offering the help.
Although these experiences have given me a more complete perspective on missionary work than I ever had growing up in my orphanage, many of the thoughts and feelings I had as a child about the strange white people that came to visit still ring true. Here are five things I have learned about being a good missionary from being on the other side, the side of the beneficiary, the one being helped.

1. Rethink the goals of your short-term mission trip.

In the orphanage, I saw many short-term missionaries come and go. Again and again I was amazed by how many of them were completely focused on "getting things done" during their time with us. Whether it was building a chicken coop, painting the dorm rooms, or fixing a borehole, many missions teams spent the few days they were with us doing, doing, doing. And most of the time, the doing was manual labor or unspecialized work.
I was thrilled they wanted to help us, but I always wondered about the particular activities they chose. In Kenya, for example, we have rampant unemployment, and there is literally an endless supply of Kenyans who would do such menial labor for very little money. If a missionary is going to spend so much money to fly and visit us, shouldn't they be doing work that only they can do?
Again and again, I found that the missionaries I most connected with were those who realized this fact. They saw that the thousands of dollars they had spent to come visit us could be best used in building relationships, both with the students in our orphanage and with the elders as well, not in painting, building, or manual labor that Kenyans could do.
It was in these relationships—when I learned about the wider world, got to practice my English, and built some key connections that would last a lifetime—that I saw the real benefit to having short-term missionaries come to the orphanage.
If there is one thing I could tell short-term missionaries, it would be this: focus less on "helping," and more on cross-cultural exchange, and becoming friends.

2. Don't try to get too close too fast.

I'm still a teenager, so I can't speak with the authority of a psychologist on this, but from what I have read about orphaned and vulnerable children who grow up in situations similar to mine, I know that there are problems with attachment that come when you're raised like I was.
Try to remember that the trip isn't over when you get back home.
Although I loved seeing missionaries get close quickly with many of the kids at the orphanage, I sometimes worried about the younger, more emotionally vulnerable children. There were many young girls and boys at my home who would latch on quickly to a missionary who was only there for a few days—holding her hand and not letting her out of their sight for 72 hours. And then they'd be devastated when she inevitably left.
I want short-term missionaries to show love and care, but it's important to be aware of this difficult reality and to proceed carefully, knowing that you—the missionary—are the adult in the situation. Kids are particularly vulnerable to short-term visitors, and they often don't understand the reality of your life back at home and why you really have to leave after a few days. It may not be fair to you that a kid is disappointed when you only stay a week (which is a long time off work for you!), but as I saw again and again, many of my peers just didn't understand the concept of traveling so far for such a short time. These visits can be good, but proceed with caution.

3. Learn what the partner needs.

One day I was coming back from running practice, and the bell in the dining hall rang, meaning that all 170 children at my orphanage were supposed to gather together into the central courtyard. When we did, we came face-to-face with 20 smiling mzungus.
After one of our elders introduced the group, she said that the mzungus had a presentation for us. A middle-aged American woman with a bottle of hand sanitizer strapped to her waist gave a 15-minute talk about how to brush your teeth. Then she passed out toothbrushes.
We couldn't stop laughing. Another white person who thinks we don't know how to brush our teeth!
As we filed into the dining hall afterwards, we couldn't stop laughing. "Another mzungu who thinks we don't know how to brush our teeth!" We added the new toothbrushes to our stockpile. We had dozens, of course, from all the other white people who had come through that year apparently concerned primarily about our teeth.
The lesson here is that understanding what a partner needs is essential if you're trying to offer valuable support. In this case, the group was at our orphanage for only a few hours, and they assumed that in that short time it made the most sense to focus on tooth brushing. They were wrong. Ask, ask, and ask again.

4. Don't forget the money.

People don't like to talk about money, but when it comes to orphanages that constantly struggle financially, we have to. Of the many problems related to short-term missions that I saw play out again and again, problems with money and a lack thereof topped the list. Here's a classic example:
After months of coordination between the orphanage and a U.S. church, a group of 10 comes from the U.S. and stays for four nights in some extra dormitory rooms. The orphanage van (the only vehicle) goes on an 8-hour round-trip journey to pick them up at the airport, and another 8-hour trip to drop them off at the end of their stay.
They bring with them a dozen bags of donated clothes and books. During their time at the orphanage, they are served special meals with things we kids don't get to eat—meat, fresh vegetables, milk, and sugary treats. During their stay, the three full-time staff at the orphanage are on-call the entire time, helping with the constant questions and issues that always come up when people travel to an unknown (and, to them, primitive) place. The orphanage takes the group on frequent rides to local shopping centers, tourist places, hospitals, and the like every day. When the group departs, they may leave a donation of $2,000.
From the church's perspective, they have fundraised incredibly hard and already spent more than $30,000 to bring a group of 10 to Kenya. For them it seems reasonable to make a donation of $2,000. The orphanage, in contrast, feels exhausted, used, and frustrated. That $2,000, even in Kenya, is not a lot of money to pay for all of the orphanage's expenses and staff time. Three years later, the orphanage hears from the group again, saying they had such a great time, they want to make another trip.
There are variations on this story. Sometimes the group leaves no money at all. Sometimes the orphanage never hears from the group again. Sometimes the group promises a large donation or offering upon returning home and showing their photos and videos to the congregation, but it never materializes. And sometimes, of course, a church becomes a long-term partner. But long-term partnerships are the exception.
Year after year, the cycle continues. The orphanage accepts short-term missionaries because it is always hoping for that long-term partner who can really help. In the interim, though, they are using up resources that should be going to the children on an endless stream of visitors.
If you're a church considering a short-term missions trip, please think about the implications of the time and resources the orphanage will spend on you.

5. Follow up, follow up, follow up.

What a missionary does once he or she goes home is often far more important than what happens at the site. Following up is everything.
When I talk about some of the great relationships I built with short-term missionaries over the years, I know that the only reason those relationships worked was because the missionary followed up. As an orphan, I didn't have money for a stamp to send a letter (and Internet access, both then and now, is unusual in many children's homes in Kenya). But if a person I met wrote me, we could develop a friendship. Some of my greatest mentors and friends to this day are people who first came for just a few short days to my orphanage. On the larger scale, follow up is the only way that the orphanage and the church can truly build a mutually beneficial long-term partnership.
Ultimately, try to remember that the trip isn't over when you get back home.
In the years since I left the orphanage and began to have experiences of my own helping others, I've learned a lot about what it means to extend help and how difficult it can be. Aside from my year spent on a service project in Ecuador, I've also now taken part in several short-term volunteer experiences with international missionaries visiting orphanages and nonprofits in Kenya. In all of these experiences, I've served as a bridge, the rare person who knows both sides, and who tries to provide advice on how each side can better understand the other. I'm glad that the missions field has changed to emphasize understanding on-the-ground partners, but there is still much more work to do.
I believe the core of the issue has to do with better communication between missions groups and partner sites, in hopes that we can bridge the vastly different cultural and financial expectations and assumptions that each group has.
By working closer, we can help one another."

Monday, April 21, 2014

Why we're living below the line...

Helen and I are going to be Living Below The Line. Live Below the Line is a global campaign and five day challenge that encourages people to live on the equivalent poverty line ($2.25NZ) for their food and drink for five days. We're going to be doing the American version of LBL this year on $1.50US for Tutapona from April 28-May 2.
 
I for one am not looking forward to it! Why would someone choose to do such a thing? The idea I guess is to get people to experience one of the challenges faced by the world’s poorest if only for a short while. We still live in nice houses and drive cars and carry on with all the usual comforts of life, except for food.
As well as creating understanding and empathy the campaign is designed to raise funds for important work. We would love it if YOU could help by sponsoring us to live below the line. All the money raised will go to our trauma rehabilitation programme with some of the world’s poorest people. We believe the programme gives people hope and a chance to move forward with their lives after coming through some pretty difficult stuff- in short it helps them get above the line.
Tutapona wants to raise $15,000!
My target is $500 and Helen's is $250.
Can you help us get there?
You can support me here and her here.
Thanks in advance for your generosity!

 

We made it onto the news!

The amazing work that Tutapona does here in Uganda finally got some serious air time today when it appeared on ABC in America. Got 2:17 seconds to hear about the trauma counselling we're doing here in Uganda? Check out our founders, Carl and Julie Gaede talking to the team at http://kstp.mn/7bk88 

Monday, April 7, 2014

Portraits of Reconciliation

Last month, the photographer Pieter Hugo went to southern Rwanda, two decades after nearly a million people were killed during the country’s genocide, and captured a series of unlikely, almost unthinkable tableaus. In one, a woman rests her hand on the shoulder of the man who killed her father and brothers. In another, a woman poses with a casually reclining man who looted her property and whose father helped murder her husband and children. In many of these photos, there is little evident warmth between the pairs, and yet there they are, together. In each, the perpetrator is a Hutu who was granted pardon by the Tutsi survivor of his crime.


Jean Pierre Karenzi
Perpetrator (left)Viviane NyiramanaSurvivor
KARENZI: “My conscience was not quiet, and when I would see her I was very ashamed. After being trained about unity and reconciliation, I went to her house and asked for forgiveness. Then I shook her hand. So far, we are on good terms.”
NYIRAMANA: “He killed my father and three brothers. He did these killings with other people, but he came alone to me and asked for pardon. He and a group of other offenders who had been in prison helped me build a house with a covered roof. I was afraid of him — now I have granted him pardon, things have become normal, and in my mind I feel clear.”



Godefroid MudaheranwaPerpetrator (left)Evasta MukanyandwiSurvivor
MUDAHERANWA: “I burned her house. I attacked her in order to kill her and her children, but God protected them, and they escaped. When I was released from jail, if I saw her, I would run and hide. Then AMI started to provide us with trainings. I decided to ask her for forgiveness. To have good relationships with the person to whom you did evil deeds — we thank God.”
MUKANYANDWI: “I used to hate him. When he came to my house and knelt down before me and asked for forgiveness, I was moved by his sincerity. Now, if I cry for help, he comes to rescue me. When I face any issue, I call him.”

Read more here:
 

Sunday, April 6, 2014

A day at the office

Last week I travelled north from Kampala to a small, remote settlement near the border between South Sudan and Uganda. It was my fourth visit and each time I go I’m impacted anew. Adjumani is a tiny community that has been inundated with South Sudanese refugees since war started in their home country on December 16th 2013. 
The vast majority of those crossing Uganda’s northern border (87%) are women and children. They have fled from horrific inter-tribal and political violence. The killing has not been restricted to soldiers shooting soldiers. Civilians are often targeted.In late January a ceasefire was signed between the two warring parties but this has not translated into peace on the ground. The fighting has continued and, in places, escalated in intensity. About 400 new South Sudanese asylum seekers are still arriving in Uganda daily.
Hearing these people speak of what they’ve been through has highlighted the gulf between the life experiences of those in the world’s poorest places from my own. When small challenges arise I’m easily unsettled and disturbed. These people have been through things that I simply cannot relate to. Below is an example of how war traumatises individuals and wrecks societies. Jacob* is a 22 year old man who showed very clear signs of psychological trauma. He agreed to tell me how the war affected him.

"I come from South Sudan. Last year I was studying in my first year of high school and helping my family to farm cattle. My mother, sisters and I were supported by my older brother as my father died just before I was born in 1991. In December of last year I was out working in the fields when the rebel soldiers attacked my home village. My mother and sisters ran with many others but lots of people were killed too. I arrived home from the fields and the village was deserted. I found my older brother and my uncle among the dead. My blind grandmother had also been shot in the head. I stayed there for 2 days with my dead relatives as I didn’t know where to go. The government soldiers and Ugandan troops pushed the rebels out of my area and another uncle was able to make it back to my village where he found me. We left together and walked for 3 ½ days to seek refuge. We passed through more fighting and in a small fishing village we were caught up in it.  As we were running out of the area someone in front of me was shot and they were so close that their blood hit me. After making it to Juba we caught a ride to the border with Uganda. I have been here in Uganda with my uncle since the 3rd of January. My mother and sisters are still in South Sudan. I’ve spoken to them once but we cannot reach each other while the fighting carries on. The hardest thing for me has been the loss of my brother. I think about what I saw in the village often. I’m also worried about the future, I am not going to school and I don’t know what will happen to me. I’ve even thought about taking my life." 
*Name changed
His story is a representation of just one situation created by this war. Today there are 52,000 others registered in Adjumani. Obviously not all have been through as much as Jacob but many have lost loved ones in the fighting (about 10,000 people are estimated to have been killed); all are aliens and have little control over their future. Some of the symptoms of this kind of psychological trauma are insomnia, nightmares, depression and increased suicidality.

For Jacob and others like him, Tutapona’s program is a lifeline. The trauma rehabilitation work and counselling we are doing will help him process the things he’s seen and to move forward with his life. Today, Jacob is in the program and I'm keeping up to date with his progress. The need is massive and urgent. We have two full time staff there (and other staff working with the victims of different conflicts) but would love to employ more.
A lot of people have asked us how they can help out with this work. Tutapona is registered for LiveBelow The Line this year. To understand one aspect of what it’s like to be a refugee I challenge you to try living on $1.50 for your food for 5 days. Get your friends and family to sponsor you. I can assure you your support will be well used and you'll probably drop a belt size into the bargain.
We’re registered in the States but people living anywhere can sign up with us here: 

 Live Below the Line so people like Jacob can rise above it.