Saturday, May 10, 2008

Kelvin' post #7 "God has a sense of Humour"

Joining the team has been a very interesting experience for me. I know Paul very well and I knew who Grant was but I did not know him personally. When I came to the first meeting and was introduced to everyone my first thought was that this was going to be a interesting ride. Now lets break down what we have:
We have a minister and a minister want a be, handy if we could convince the walls to fall down on their own. we have a salesman who could talk someone into buy them and we have a Greek professor who well I not sure what you could teach a wall, maybe he could help the ministers. We have a work safe guy who could take our first two weeks here to set up a bullet proof safety plan that would be approved by WCB and we have sous-chef which will comes in very handy because we are going to be starving to death. We have systems communications technician to remove all the bugs and an electrician to shed some light on the whole project, and to keep this crew from hurting themselves we have two lovely nurses who are packin enough drugs that they could set up their own Pharmacy
My second thought was I hope God know what he is doing. None of these people have any kind of training in the physical work that He is calling us to do. What I do see is a great love for the Lord and the desire to put themselves out there to be his servants in whatever form that may be.
God does know what he is doing and he did pick 10 people most suited to do this work.
I have never met a more dedicated and hard working bunch of people in my life. The work is brutally hard and the heat is unbearable in that unventilated building. Our nurses sooth our bruises and cuts and scrapes as well as join in to help with the work.

There is more than a rugged side to this team than bash down walls, there is a tender side that when taking a break they sit down to play with the children, or offer them a treat, or simply a smile. There is nothing like seeing a big strong man covered with dirt and sweat, on his knee’s giving his undivided attention to a sweet little girl as if this is the only thing in this whole world that matters.
When going through the markets in Phnom Phen today the kids in Svay Pak were always on our minds, what can we get for the kids, what would they like. We got some stuff and can’t wait to go back and share it with them.
God has hand picked this team and I am honored to be included with such great people.

Kelvin

Tuktuktuktuktuktuktuk................(Kit)

A gift shop at the Killing Fields.Tickets to get in. Tour groups cackling with unrestrained howls of laughter. Human skulls piled into a dusty and poorly maintained memorial. Clothing of the victims still evident, still locked in the ground until the next big storm. Footprints on the clothes where visitors just trod over them. And butterflies everywhere. Butterflies!!

Forty-five minutes by tuktuk there (we hired three of them), and another forty five minutes back. A hot, dusty, loud trip. Impoverished people in ugly huts at the roadside - eating, sleeping, trying to make a living. Bottles (pop bottles, water bottles, etc.) filled with fuel for the thousands of mopeds on the roads. Drivers stop and buy a liter or less, fill 'er up, drive on. Next to the gas sellers are other businesses, including the welder who wears sunglasses instead of safety glasses. Sparks fly everyhwere - and those gas containers just a few feet away....

A quick lunch near the market, and then into a hot, dark steamy market. Movies, scarves, jewelry, vegetables. fruit, everything.....

Back to the hotel for the fortieth shower of the day, and then out for a wonderful meal. Marvellous Cambodian food with a lovely family. It was great being in a real Cambodian home, a home with parents, adorable healthy kids, conversation. Svay Pak was a million miles away.

By and large we are all feeling reasonably well. We're tired, though. Trying to cram everything into our days off before we hurl ourselves into another week of work was perhaps impractical, but I was part of those decisions, and if I could do today over again, I wouldn't change a thing.

Combine the fatigue with confusion and agony at the Killing Fields, excitement of finally getting in to a market, pleasure at being with the lovely family with whom we spent the evening.....our Cambodia experience is certainly multi layered .

We're half finished our time here. We've talked a lot about the fact that we did not so much 'come' to Cambodia, as we were 'brought'. We still look to God for guidance, for wisdom, for understanding as we try to serve him in an orphaned complex country, a country He dearly loves. Cambodia is calling my heart too.

A quiet day for me - Grant

Saturday was a quiet day for me. I woke not feeling well - yup some GI issues. So the rest of the team was off to one of the many Killing Fields in Cambodia and I took some meds and rested (slept) most of the morning. I went to the lobby of the hotel just afternoon to email Grace and before I was done the team arrived back. The plan was to head to the market in just a few minutes. I was feeling pretty good so I headed out with them.

We had lunch at a wonderful little cafĂ© called Jars of Clay and then it was off into the market. Now if you are thinking Safeway you couldn’t be further from the truth. You can get just about anything at Psat Toul tom pong but you have to smell it more than see it to grasp what the market is like. Let your “mind’s nose” follow me on a tour through the market. We’ll begin in the moto section where you can literally buy enough parts of motos to build one from scratch. The air here is heavy with the smell of grease and oil and solvents. As we move into the knick knack/antique section we fine sweet smell of incense. The clothing, jewelry, CD and DVD area have the smell of wet floor, human bodies and exhaust wafting in from outside. Then we move toward the produce section that has the rank smell of rotting vegetable matter. But we’re not done yet. Finally we get to the meat section. Keep in mind that it is now mid afternoon, the temperature is about 32 degrees OUTSIDE and the meat that has not yet been bought is sitting out on tables and counters to temp the passing customers. The smell is unique. Wouldn’t you like to bite into a nice piece of semi-ripe pork right now? The meat section of the market is best moved through at high speed while holding one’s breath – trust me on this.

Sotheary and Paul invited us over for dinner. Sotheary is a wonderful and gracious woman who is the Ratanak Foundation manager in Cambodia. It was a great Khmer meal and most pleasant evening.

It was a quiet day for me – a quiet day and a good day especially that I was feeling so much better at the end than at the beginning.

Grant

Our day off- Jeff

Today we started with a trip out to the killing fields in Choeung Ek. it was a very emotional thing to go to. when we got there we went in and the first thing we saw was the Memorial Charnel, which was this big display of human skulls from the people that were killed under the Pol Pot regime. it was really hard to see because there were just so many people killed.

i think the hardest part of the trip there was to see all of the clothes from the people killed still embedded in the ground. there was also many signs which described what went on where and how many people were in each grave.



on a brighter note, afterwards we went to one of the markets in Phnom Penh. we were looking around and found many things that you probably wouldnt see to buy in Canada. there were even movies such as "Horton hears a who" and "10 000 BC" for sale, and as far as my knowledge goes i dont think those movies are even in theatres yet (at least not before we left) . i did manage to pick up a copy of "iron man" (dont tell the FBI that though im sure they wouldnt approve) . there was also alot of nick knacks and what not.



this evening we went to Sotheary's house (Brian McConaghy's right hand person in Cambodia). the team had a wonderful time at her house. we met with her family Allen (her son), Anika her adorable little girl which in fact we were able to share some time with her after having her third birthday party today (cute =D) and here husband Paul. we got to have some traditional Khmer dishes and we had Mangosteen and mango on sticky rice for desert.



just another day in Cambodia.

...questions... and The Answer...(Kit)

Although most of my professional life has been working with adults, I do have a few various experiences of working with young women; living with about 400 other student nurses, working with Nurses Christian Fellowship, or as a Camp Nurse, leading girls groups, etc....and when we arrived at New Song, it seemed so familiar. A group of young girls looking safe, happy, interested, welcoming, healthy, in pleasant and safe surroundings. And then I remember their shared legacy - every one of these girls rescued from the talons of pimps and pedophile vultures. I (sort of) understand all this when I read about it, or hear about it, but when I sit down and talk to these girls, and we exchange names, and they ask about my own adult daughters, and they laugh shyly at my mangled attempt at their language........I am beyond comprehending what they have endured. And then I am reminded that these precious girls (and you know I do not often use words like 'precious' ) are just a small fraction - a speck, one lost lamb - in the whole foul continuum of human trafficking and child prostitution.

New Song is New Hope. New Song breathed peace, health, redemption. A future. And although I loved every moment of the visit, and it seemed to me to be a bit of heaven itself, a still small voice inside me warned me not to be too happy; Rahab's House, New Song and similar ventures are only the 'sparks' that Kel talks about when what we need is a roaring refining fire. We've met wonderful , young, educated, dynamic Christians here, ready to do the work, but so many projects are underfunded. There are no 'poster children' for childhood prostitution (nor should there be - why should this be their identity?) but we in the West need to hear their cries nonetheless.

There are expensive education programs, there are signs on buses and tourist brochures re protecting the children. Is education the answer? I believe in education. But even more I believe in the Way, the Truth and the Life.

Day Off - Richard

I like to think of myself as a pretty optimistic person, always looking for the good or redeeming quality in every situaton. This past week has put that outlook to the test. From the genocide and torture at Tuol Sleng, to the disgusting cesspool that was Rahabs House, when we arrived on Monday. From there came the joy of seeing the walls coming down and the light coming in, and interacting with the kids in the village - till I remembered what was happening at night. From the horrible pink colour on the walls to the humility and awe of the girls from ARC and the New Song. It has really been a week of ups and downs for me, where I have really struggled to maintain the glass half full outlook.
Today was another such day. After the high I felt after meeting the girls at ARC, we made the trip out to Choeung Ek by tuk-tuk. I felt like a tourist riding out to the site, taking pictures and joking with the other team members in the two other tuk-tuk. Then I started to see the poverty and then we got to the centre. Choeung Ek is the site of the killing fields where almost nine thousand bodies were discovered in mass graves after the fall of the Khmer Rouge.
I was brought back down again, appalled by the horror and humiliation and evil that humans can do to each other and that the world allows to happen.

I have to keep reminding myself that God brought this team together and to Cambodia for a reason. To bring a light of hope to the people and kids in Svay Pak and help further God's Kingdom in this lost village.
If I can keep the faith, and keep looking for Jesus in the eyes and faces of these people, keep reminding myself that God loves these people too, and asking God to give me eyes to see and ears to hear the opportunities that present themselves and the courage to act - then maybe I can regain my hopeful, optimistic outlook.
Keep us in your prayers

Pol Pot's legacy - by Paul


This morning our team decided to visit one of the killing field around Phnom Penh. This particular one is call Choeung Ek, and is where many of the Cambodians detained and tortured at Tuol Sleng were brought to be executed. After the Vietnames overthrew the Khmer Rouge, they discovered the mass graves, some with bodies not yet covered by dirt. Many of the bodies were exhumed in the investigation of the genocide, so the field is pitted with empty mass graves.

Walking the grounds you still find evidence of the killings. The yearly cycle of rain and hot weather bring bits of clothing, bones and teeth to the surface, driving home the reality of this place. I found a button, a profound reminder that someone once put on a shirt on April 17, 1975, not aware that hours later they would be ushered out of the city, and would wear that same shirt every day until they were massacred.

On the way back to the hotel, we stopped to take a picture of a phenomenally large lake. Our tuk-tuk driver explained that it was a man-made lake, dug by hand by thousands of Cambodians as the Khmer Rouge moved the nation backwards into stone age agriculture. Thousands of Cambodians died of exhaustion, disease and starvation completing this massive rice paddy. Unfortunately, most of the rice was exported to China in exchange for weapons, so the labourers never saw a return from their slave labour.

What a sad legacy Pol Pot left the world. How different Fairview's legacy will be when we leave Rahab's House.

When two worlds collide

Marty's Daily Diary #7

How can I deal with these two worlds that are colliding?

Yesterday, when we entered the ARC the first stop on our tour was the "counselling room." The room resembled the playfulness and innocence one would expect to see in a child's nursery. Yet it is the place where young girls are counselled about the abuse which has stolen their childhood away from them.

All week we have worked in Sway Pak which is quite literally a dump. I described it as a cesspool. It is poverty stricken, yet has had and still has large amounts of USD pouring in to it through the depravity of child sex prostitution.

This morning we went to Choeung Ek, the Killing Fields just outside Phnom Penh. It is a solemn place. The museum is one thing but as you walk around the mass graves you can still see clothes appearing out of the ground and human bones are still being found throughout the place. One mass grave reads "Mass grave of 166 with out heads." Then I reached the "Killing Tree," against which executioners beat children. As I stand there in shock, despair, disbelief, two boys appear with an English speaking girl and 'casually' mention to her that the bones at the side of the tree are kids' bones, probably arms and legs. And then they LAUGH. It seems to me that what they see at the side of the tree is NOT a reality for them. It is just a fact of their history which people remember. The Killing Fields is just a place of statistics. "Is that all it is?" Are we really affected by the evil that goes on in the world? I mean, do we simply know about it but it never gets in to our guts to cause us to become physically sick? I had had enough. I went to buy a green tea and be with my own thoughts and reflections.

As I sat, a man spoke to me. He is a taxi driver. A Cambodian. He mentioned how sorrowful the place we where was. "Yes," I agreed. Then after 2 mins of small talk he asked me if I knew about the place where I could go and shoot guns near to Choeung Ek and if I wanted too I could shoot something living. Has he ever walked around the Killing Fields and allowed it to reach his spirit?

Maybe I am being too harsh? Probably. Or maybe not. All around me there seem to be evidence that two worlds are colliding. A kingdom of pure and utter evil and a kingdom of holiness. What kingdom do I want to associate myself with? What kingdom is the everlasting kingdom? What kingdom is the Kingdom of God breaking in to the world?

Perhaps today is the day I will look back on for the rest of my ministry as the day I sincerely prayed that I would never again pray the Lord's prayer from my memory but rather from my gut. Our Father, in heaven, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Lord, use me as one of your servants in your in-breaking kingdom to defeat the kingdom of evil on this earth.

Amen.
Marty

Friday, May 9, 2008

God moves mountains - by Paul

During our visit to the Agape Restoration Centre (ARC) yesterday, I was struck by the immensity of the operation and the resources required to make it happen. Secure buildings, counselors, teachers, communications, and much more... all brought together because God heard the terrifying cries of the girls in Cambodia, and broke the hearts of his followers all over the world. God move a big mountains to make it happen.

It was hard to connect the images of girls playing in this place, the laughing, the cheerfull greetings, the smiling faces with the stories I read in "Terrify No More". The distance between these two images seems to be so great that only God could have breached the gap and make the transition happen. He moves mountains.

Clayton told me that for a while ARC had the renovation of Rahab's House on the list of projects that needed to be done, but it kept dropping below the line of "Need to do" projects into the "Would be nice to do, but don't have the funds to do it now" list. God moved a mountain when he broke our hearts in January to commit our resources to this project, and through his bountiful goodness raised sufficient funds and talent to take this project further than originally anticipated.

God loves moving mountains, and it was a real priviledge to see first hand the work of his hands in the lives of the girls.

Halfway through - Tim

In 1973 as a student at the Urbana missions conference, I listened to Dr Helen Roseveare, a missionary doctor in what is now Zaire, tell the story of her gang rape by armed rebels. She told her rapt audience: "One day, evil men came. They stole everything - my possessions, my security, and then they stole my purity. I was beaten, bloodied. I couldn't pray. I was was beyond praying. Then I heard Jesus say to me: 'I need you to surrender your body to this evil right now. It is not you they are raping, but me. Trust me.' And then I began to understand the inestimable privilige of being allowed to suffer with Him in my body as well as my mind and spirit. All the hurt, shame, violence, and utter rejection by these evil men was swallowed up in this - Privilige."

Yesterday as you know, we visited ARC. So although it can hardly be grasped and makes me want to rebel against it, it is now necessary for we outsiders to view these children as priviliged to have suffered with Christ in His body - and therefore every one of them is special in the eyes of Heaven, as Marty says, angels. Three of them sat down opposite the table from me when encouraged to by one of their Cambodian teachers, who wanted to get them to practice their English on me. One of them finally asks, very quietly, "Can you be my Daddy?" I believe I understand the human loss and utter rejection by another embodied by that question. I do not know if my heart skipped a beat, but my mind was racing so fast I didn't have time to break down. "I cannot be your Daddy, for that would be wrong to call myself that if I cannot be here all the time for you; but I can be your friend." And then I broke all the rules and reached across and gently shook these three angels' hands. And without any hesitation, they reached across and shook my white middle-aged male sinful hand. And in Christ, there is no male nor female. Then as we left, they pleaded with us, "Don't go". I had to leave this beautiful oasis of extreme joy, sorrow, and hope mixed, before it tore me apart.

Kelvin' post #6 "Are you busy"

Friday morning came early andthe team headed out quickly to get a few hours of work in at RH before preparing to go to Arc. Once back at the hotel and cleaned up we hopped into a couple of tuktuks and headed across town. I was starting to become totally overwhelmed by the magnitude of this whole project that I have gotten myself involved in. It all started when I received a phone call at work that asked " Are you busy"? Things at work are always busy but I had a few minutes to take a call from a friend. That Friend turned out to be Jesus speaking through my friend Paul calling me to follow him. I felt right away this is something that I had to do. After telling my family about it and praying about it I confirmed with the team that I was in. And so here I am sitting in a tuktuk heading to ARC, a place I knew nothing about a few months back, a place were the love of God is wrapped around these girls through the arms of the staff that work there. Once inside the gate we were given a tour and then got to meet the girls. We had lunch with them and had a chance to talk with them as best we could. We were there for a couple of hours but it seemed only minutes before we had to leave. The girls were absolutly wonderful and appear to be recovering well from a past which is unimaginable. When heading back in our tuktuks I could not help but think about my two teenage girls and being totally thankful that we live in Canada, a land of opportunities that unfortunatly most these girls will never have.
It is funny that earlier this year I was thinking about possibly going on a mission trip somewhere, didn't know where but somewhere. God must have heard that thought in my head and made it happen in a big way.

God is Good!

Kelvin

Now that's righteous

Marty's Daily Diary #6

The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to [daughtership]. And by him we cry, “Abba, Father.” The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are [all] God’s children.
Romans 8:15-16
A few weeks before we set off for Cambodia the youth of our church created some banners that we would present to the projects we would be visiting during our time here. Renovating a brothel in Sway Pak into Rahab's House is why we are here. Over this past few days I have experienced so many emotions from working in this place. I have been angry at the animals who abused these kids. I have been overwhelmed with thoughts of what the past held for some of these girls. I have been bewildred as to who would actually come here to do this stuff to children. I have been dwelling in the past.
But meeting the girls on Thursday put everything into a new light. We knew that girls who had been rescued from brothels (including Rahab's House) where at ARC. We knew some of them were coming weekly to RH to minister to the kids in Sway Pak. I never dreamt I would ever meet them. I never dreamt I would see ARC. I never dreamt that I would sit and eat lunch with these angels. I never dreamt that I would meet Hanna and she would smile at me and call me "Marty." Today I saw that angel in heaven. ARC is beautiful. To sense the joy and love that fills this place today was surely what heaven is all about.
Over the past few years at College I have discovered that one of the best words used to describe God in the Bible is "righteous." God is all about "right-relationships." Righteousness is all about love, respect, wanting the best good for the other, agape.
These angels are expereincing God's righteousness and it makes them shine with the brightness of the sunshine yellow colour I am seeing a lot of at Rahab's House. We presented the pictured banner to ARC and explained that the banner is drawn from Romans 8:16. All the children of the world are loved by God. Each of them is an angel in His eyes. I have been blessed to meet those angels today. I have been blessed by them becasue they fill me with hope.
They have re-oriented me to the future. A future that includes the ministry and work in Rahab's House, as they reach out to the hell-hole of their pasts in order to give other kids a chance for a better future. They are reaching out with hope, becasue they know God's love and they know God loves the kids in Sway Pak. I am so looking forward to working at Rahab's House next week, for in some small way which God has brought me here, I can physically be involved in helping establish that future of hope for this village. "Jesus, all for Jesus. All I am and have and ever hope to be." Amen.
Marty

a day of emotions and dead animals- Jeff

today had a not so pleasant start to it. i woke up this morning not feeling 100%, we went for breakfast in the hotel restaurant and afterwords i had to go back to the room for a bit. when it was time to leave for Rahabs house i began to get a fever. taking all of this into consideration the team decided that i will stay at the hotel and take a sick day while they went and worked in Svay Pak. while taking a rest at the hotel i was able to watch some great "high quality" Cambodian TV. Such great shows consisted of Cambodian price is right, karaoke, and other "top quality" Cambodian game shows.

later on in the day we got to go to ARC and meet the girls that had been rescued. it was quite the experience. it started off just this wonderful awesome place where girls could be safe and unharmed. we got a tour and the whole place was just perfect.

after the tour we got to have lunch with the girls. this is when things became a little awkward. i noticed as i was eating my chicken soup on rice and mystery meat (I'm sure it was beef but yet again it also could have been pork i dont really remember) that all of these eyes were looking at me. not just the whole team, but me individually. i think that the girls were beginning to form crushes on me because i remember when in the hotel Grant (dad) was saying that Clayton (the one who works for ARC) was telling the team this morning that it might be more difficult for me because the girls after being rescued sometimes have the dream of a western man coming and marrying them and would want to them and taking them back to Canada with them. now with this in my mind i couldnt help but think what these girls had gone through and here they were asking Kit all of these questions about me (age, occupation ect =P) and i couldnt face them. all through lunch i couldnt even look them in the eye. Though there was this one girl (who i will not name due to security reasons) that we had met when she came to Rahabs house the day before. When seeing her i couldnt help but smile back.

All of these girls looked so happy and if just going to ARC without knowing about their pasts in the first place, you never would have known. they all were just so full of life and willingness to learn. many were just so out going, there was this other girl who as we left said. "see you next year". this had never crossed my mind that a young girl who had been through what she had been through could laugh and make jokes with mostly (no offence to the team) but middle age men who normally in Cambodia would have bought them. it was just so special that she could just make jokes with the team.

after the emotional time that we had at ARC we went to a "beer and BBQ" place for dinner. it was kind of an IKEA type meal. We "had to do it ourselves". it was kind of cool, we got the raw meat and were given a gas powered BBQ cone thingy and cooked it ourselves. we ate with some people from IJM, Naomi a "law fellow" as she called herself and her husband Josh. we also had the pleasure of eating with Sarah and Lisa who are also from IJM (i didnt catch their official titles). overall a good meal and good conversations. though as we left the restaurant we came across a sight we did not wish to see after eating all of that meat. there was a GREAT BIG rat pasted to the road. made us wonder if the meat we were eating was legit or if it was just pieces of our great friend "squishy the rat" (only joking)

this is Jeff signing off
God bless

A feast in the Kingdom of God - Grant

In our world of wonderful technology which allows us to tell you what we are seeing and experiencing and which allows us to photograph and video everything, there are times when the only record of an event are the memories of the individuals involved. Today is such a day.

We started a little earlier than usual because we had an 11:30 we could not miss. We spent two hours at Rahab’s House today. I was painting with Marty up in what was formerly known as the “virgin room” – the place where top dollar got time with a virgin which in the child sex-trade is terrifyingly young. It is a very different place. As Kit said, the horrible pink is gone and has been replaced with sunshine yellow – not a colour I would chose for my own home but just the right colour here. Yesterday I’d been working downstairs scraping walls for the day and at one point I went up to see how the team upstairs was doing. I reached the top of the very steep stairs and called out to Marty and Kit and Barb and asked how things were “in the party room.” No sooner were the words out of my mouth than I felt sick to my stomach. I intended to refer to the fact that they were up in the bright light of this room removed from the rest of us – like was a special place – but the reality of my own words quick connected to what this room had been. As quickly as I’d said it I said, “forgive me I didn’t mean…” I was forgiven.

This is a holy work we are doing. I’ve heard that and said it myself a number of times, “This is holy work.” When we say it we are referring to scraping off the pink paint and painting the washing area out side of the upper room and knocking down walls – it is all holy work. And today after two hours of work we were back to PP to get ready to see a big part of the reason this is holy work.

ARC (NewSong) is a wonderful place. It is very secure and we want to keep it that way so we won’t use any real names of staff or children or indicate in anyway where it might be found.

We are all so privileged to be invited in because they are very careful about who they even allow to know the location. We all feel this honour as we enter the grounds. We are given a guided tour by the man in charge – a man known lovingly by all the girls as “Dad.” He doesn’t treat them like broken flowers, he shows them great respect and love and treats them all like his own daughters. He protects them like his own daughters. We are shown through classrooms and a variety of other rooms used to help these girls heal and grow up like regular kids.

After the tour we are invited to share lunch with the girls. I feel like an honoured guest… What did it feel like? Was I an honoured guest in the presence of royalty? No that wasn’t it. Was I an honoured guest in the presence of a movie star or rock star? No that wasn’t it either. Even as I sit and write this I have a very strong sense that I was a guest of honour in the Kingdom of God – Yes that’s the closest thing to it. We were at a feast in the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom where tears will be wiped away, where there is healing and wholeness and love and God is right there. ARC is part of the Kingdom of God as is Rahab’s House as if Fairview. At those tables we were connected - we were one in the Kingdom of God.

We presented the banner for the girls there and it was happily received to great applause – Dad encourage the great applause. We presented them with the money the children at Fairview raised for school supplies at RH and we presented them with the pictures Brian Dennehy took of the presentation of the banners at Fairview the Sunday before we left.

Then we presented them with the matching banner – the one we will bring back to Fairview for the girls to write or draw or do what ever they wanted to. We left it with them to finish because our time was up and we had to leave. I was asked to pray for and over the girls before we left. I am not often caught off guard but I was at a loss for words but offered what the Lord placed on my heart. There were many sompaes (bow with hands held in the prayer posture at the mouth) as we said our good-byes. “God bless you,” was called back and forth and there was even a “We’ll see you next year” by one of the girls for good measure.

Then we were back to the street and out tuktuks back to the hotel. I can’t speak for the other team members but I left with real thankfulness for the profound work of so many that has made this place a reality. And God has made us too – all of Fairview – to be a part of this amazing work.

There are no photos of our visit for security reasons we have only our memories which are permanently etched into our minds.

Grant

New Song - New Hope

We went to work at Rahabs House this morning- but only stayed for two hours as we were invited to meet the girls at New Song at 11:30. So we did what we could and then sped back to the hotel to get cleaned up and changed. With a mixture of excitment and trepidation we hopped into a couple of tuk-tuks (and Kit on the back of a moto!) and headed off to the secret place. After signing a confidentiality agreement, we were led into the building for a tour with the Director.

We didn't think that a group of middle-aged white guys would be welcome in this place. To our surprise, we were totally wrong!

With big smiles on their faces, and plenty of sompeahs, the girls welcomed us and even sat down to lunch with us! One of them even remembered my name!

After the humility and awe of yesterday - it was pure joy to see these girls THRIVING in this environment! They were just like normal teenagers, laughing, smiling and giggling.

For these girls, who have been through so much in their short lives, to be so happy and joyfull and have such hope for their futures - shows how powerful the love of Jesus is!

As Clay said yesterday when he is asked by other NGO's what the secret to ARC's success is, he said: "Jesus. You gotta put more Jesus into it"



After presenting the banner, we were able to sit and chat to the girls for a few minutes, but then it was time to go. We said our good byes, and after many God Bless You's and much more sompeahing and thank you's - we left with a spring in our step and joy in our hearts, knowing that these girls are recovering from their pasts, and we were invigorated by the knowledge that we are helping to give other children the same opportunity to be rescued by the love of God, through Rahab's House.

Thursday, May 8, 2008

What a pushover - take 2

This video is a couple days late due to networking difficulties...


Kelvin's post #5 "What are they thinking"

We have now completed day 4 and the construction is well underway. Every day when we arrive the kids are very quick to come around and give Hi Fives and show us which one of the picture's hanging on the walls are the ones they coloured, and just generally hang around and try to be helpful. Through out the day there will be a few teenage boys that will walk in and have a look around before leaving again. Some of the mothers of these kids will also come strolling in to have a look to see what is happening. We play with the kids and maybe give them a sucker or something and just try to show them that we are their friends, we are not here to hurt them. We smile at the adults and say hello to them as best we can but I can't help but wonder what they are thinking.
Who are these people? Where do they come from? Why do they come here and try to change things? Do they think this will make a difference? Are they crazy?
Maybe we are crazy. If you really think about size of the problem we are dealing with in Svay Pak and around the world, how can renovating this little building make a difference. There is a song we used to sing when I was in youth group and it goes something like this.

It only takes a spark to get a fire going,
And soon all those around will warm up in it's glowing.
That's how it is with God's love,
Once you've experienced it.
You'll want to sing, it fresh like spring.
You'll want to pass it on.

This song has been stuck in my mind for the last few day's and I pray that this little spark that we have started will become a bon fire for the Lord.

We have met a few of the girls today from ARC, and some of them were rescued from this horrible place; they did not know what we were doing there, only that we were there. When they arrived I was nervous, would they be scared of us? Would they see us as the westerners that they are trying to forget? As the girls walked in my nerves calmed instantly as they were smiling and seemed to instantly understand we were there to help them. As we were introduced my heart was crying, how could anyone steal the Innocent's from these children. I watched as one of the girls looked past us into the bright wide open space that was once a living hell. She put her hand over her mouth and stared, her eyes were moving all around the room, I couldn't help but wonder, "What was She Thinking"

Kelvin

Rahab's House is a School -- Toph

The children of the village of Svay Pak are more used to us now. This is both good and bad… the familiarity means that they try things they didn’t before. Any gesture might have another motivation. Several kids end the day with our empty drink containers, each earned one at a time, through grabbing gestures, pleading eyes, or whatever.

The tension of their poverty is confusing. They are all thin, barefoot, with terrible teeth behind their (often) broad smiles. And yet there is money in the village. We see an occasional expensive car. Yesterday a young boy, perhaps seven, had a wad of US and Cambodian bills carefully folded in his pocket. As he asked for a drink canister.

This was one of my wheelbarrow helpers on the first day, and we are by now a familiar sight to him. He introduces himself, but an hour later is using another name, which might be Paul. He becomes anyone I might want.

Today he wears only shorts. He has bright intelligent eyes, but the language barrier is apparent. We try counting together, and some other kids join in, but there is no real exchange, beyond the smiles. We trust these children have some sense about what we are doing here.

“Mynyemiz Paul. Mynyemiz?” he asks, pointing first at himself, then at me.

“My name is Toph.” I answer. He repeats: “Mynyemiz Taw”.

He will shout “Taw” at me several dozen times throughout the day, as indeed he shouts the names of many of the team.

Before I begin scraping, in the front room of the former brothel, Paul and a little girl (the same one Richard described yesterday blowing kisses) point at coloured images of Bible stories. “I did this one” they each seem to say, and, as I nod and smile, the girl seems to understand.

She is perhaps five, and, apparently, is Paul’s sister (“may” and “(k)om” are the words he seemed to use). She has long earrings on, and wears only shorts. She also has some scarring around her mouth, which interrupts the smoothness of her young face.

When she sees me show approval at her colouring skills (sure, the people were blue, and I like it when people colour outside of the lines), she starts laying claim to other ones, until she has taken possession of a dozen of them. I don’t know when she stopped pointing at her own work. She too will spend most of the day in the front room, close to her brother (“Taw…Taw...” I hear as I am on a ladder scraping). He is calling her a name I hear as “Gail”. At lunch, it is explained that the marks on her face might be genital warts, or an STD. This had not occurred to me.

Both these kids, and the others with them, are trapped. They smile, and are bright eyed, but are thinking things, and living things, which leave me speechless. So I scrape scrape scrape scrape scrape.

In the afternoon, some of the girls who work at Rahab’s House arrived. These include girls who had been rescued from the building when it was a brothel. The sort of courage that it takes to come back to a place like this is beyond reckoning.

The opportunity to meet them had not been a planned part of the trip. We had not expected they would want contact with any white men. They look nothing like the urchins I have tried to communicate with. They walk with grace, stand with poise. They are smiling, and respectful, and radiate joy. We all awkwardly introduce ourselves, over the course of a few minutes, before we quickly leave them to their work, in the building we are renovating, and which they, through their work, and God, though His, are transforming.

These girls, women, are in their early teens. When rescued, they might have been eight. And they have unmistakable joy.

As we are leaving, one of the girls makes a respectful gesture, and in perfect English says, “It is very nice to meet you.” I am taken aback for a moment, at the impeccable pronunciation, and at the sentiment. (This is the one Marty calls Hanna.) Then she points at my bald head and giggles. “I’ll remember you.”

There is an immense warmth at being teased in this way. She is comfortable here. This is their building, her building. And she has let us in.

The best of times, the worst of times (Kit)

(Yesterday as I was attempting to write this blog, it suddenly sent itself. Today I just want to give it a title, and write a bit at the end, so that I can get along with a new blog. So if it looks different...).
Some members of our team have already posted tonight, so I will not go over the events again except to say that having the young women arrive at RH- just ordinary lovely young women like yours or mine - was an extremely emotional experience for me. After spending rather a lot of time this week in the nauseating and hideous Pink Room - now a glorious sunshine yellow - and hearing some of the unspeakable atrocities these kids have experienced (to say nothing of the horrific medical conditions some have acquired from their abusers: AIDS, HIV, herpes, inflicted injury, etc.), it was very profound just to meet them in person, to see their eyes widen with delight at what has happened to this hellhole, to see them smile shyly as we all met each other. Although our visit was short, it will stay with me for a long time. When I climbed into the van, and we headed on our way, the tears flowed.

So maybe I will tell you some of the other aspects of our life here in Cambodia. Barb and I are with eight great guys, men of God who are really affected by this place.

We meet in Grant and Jeff's room every morning at 0620 for a short devotional time, followed by the buffet breakfast in the hotel. The coffee here is an acquired taste, let me tell you. I have switched to tea. Rice, a variety of nice looking egg dishes, something that looks meat-ish, etc. I have clear tea, fresh pineapple and a chunk of French bread every morning - a perfect breakfast for me.

At seven we all pile into a van and head out to Svay Pak. We have a wonderful driver who weaves through the traffic with astonishing skill. The traffic is something else. As well as cars there are thousands of mopeds on the road. Some have a driver, some a driver and a passenger (women ride side saddle, more often than not with no helmets) or a driver and five passengers, or a driver and six live ducks, or a driver and a passenger holding an IV bottle up in the air (we have not been able to determine which individual is being treated, though we have seen a number of these now). I saw a driver this morning riding along through the crazy traffic with about 30 dozen eggs balanced on the front of his moped. Food, clothes, kids, furniture, machinery, whatever, it gets transported the same way. And it never seems to stop.

We leave the city and drive forever along the river, and eventually we turn off the highway - and here we are. Svay Pak . As we drive a couple of blocks into the village, I cannot say we are treated with a roaring welcome. Clearly we are damaging the livelihood of a number of people in this little community - the brothel owners for instance, and those who run strange dark little coffee shops, etc, where men with money wait ...The homes here are tin roofed shacks, often windowless, and none seem to be detached from the next. Garbage goes out on the street.

As we arrive at Rahab's House, however, the little urchins arrive, cheering, waving immdiately, playing games, and keeping a sharp eye on anything that might be of value.

Clay has had Vietnamese coffee awaiting us every day since Tuesday. Basically they put a tablespoon or so of sweetened condensed milk into a coffee cup, then pour in some very strong coffee (tastes like about 6 shots to me). Stir it ...or not....wow!
Then we work.


Until today lunch has been Vietnamese noodles with vegies, etc. I am getting used to this, in fact I prefer it to any other lunch. We also have a big box of ice cold Coke around and I have started drinking coke for the first time in about 25 years. Today was pizza! - it went over very well.

We leave Svay Pak in the early afternoon for a couple of reasons. One is that the heat is sometimes overwhelming (we have taken to buying sixty liters of water every couple of days). But the village heats up in another way by mid afternoon, when it settles into the business of the evening.
We climb into the van, and depending on the emotion of the day and our level of energy we laugh and talk and tease, or we just sit silently. Without exception we are all filthy - covered in dust, in paint scrapings (old and fresh), in sweat. Back into the incredible traffic, back into the city , and finally back to the hotel. If you hear about a water shortage in Phnom Penh, that's just the Fairview team showering. The lukewarm water feels so wonderful.

We meet at 5:30 in 'the suite' and have a check-in as to how the day has gone for us individually and as a team.
And then dinner - we have found a couple of nice restaurants in the area, and we are reminded again how many choices we have. We not only get to anticipate a meal, but we can decide what...and where.

And after dinner ...well, I don't think we are a very exciting crowd. When we have to get up at 0530 in the morning and we know the work that awaits, we are almost zombies.

Barb and I have had some real problems with our computer, and cannot use it in the room at all, so we sincerely apologise if you have yet to hear from us. We long to write to you, but we also want to get these posts out...and then the computer crashes...or there is tropical storm... or.. or...So thanks for understanding, and know, once again, this comes with our love and huge gratitude to the whole Fairview family and all those friends and family who are also supporting us.
Kit

Conflicted emotions - by Paul

Today was a day of conflicted emotions. I was pumped being back at Rahab’s house after a day’s absence, yet was physically weak from not having eaten much the day before. I was glad to be working again, but feeling worthless as I started the day on the simple task of sweeping out the ruts left by the walls in preparation for the concrete. All the loud sledgehammer and shovel noises of the first few days have disappeared, to be replaced by the sound made by paint scapers, paint rollers and trowels. No more loud cheers as walls get demolished… everyone is quietly finding work to do as the real renovation starts.

The children are still hanging around the front entrance of Rahab’s House… our very own fan club. Today I shared my name with the most outgoing boy, I would guess an eight year old. After a few tries I was able to pronounce his name, Tao, and he was able to pronounce mine, Paul. This may seem to be a trivial task, however the Khmer language has different sounds, so it takes a few attempts each way for us to get our names pronounced properly. Within a few minutes, all his friends were introducing themselves to me and asking for the names of the rest of the Field Team. Richard is the only name they couldn’t manage, so he elected to go by the name of Tom. These children get so much joy out of interacting with strangers, it makes you wonder why some people come here to abuse them.

Lunch came quickly. Clayton had ordered pizza to celebrate our progress. He also mentioned that the girls undergoing rehabilitation at the Agape Restoration Centre (ARC) were going to be dropping by today. They come by twice a week to do community outreach, and as you read in some of Tuesday’s Blogs, they elected not to come that day because of the constructions. We focused on filling in the wall ruts with concrete (a job I find very therapeutic) and cleaning up as much of the mess as possible. This would be the first they would see how this former house of despair and oppression had been changed. Gone was the pink from the walls, gone were the pictures depicting what sexy girls should look like, gone were walls that entrapped them with sexually depraved men… maybe this would be part of the healing process for them… removing the physical reminders of the terrifying times they spent here.

As I stood with the rest of the team when the girls stepped out of the van, a stream of conflicting emotions flowed through me… so fast that none of them really registered on my face.


  • Shock at how young they were and innocent they looked… much like the girls in my daughter Megan’s class.
  • Joy that they were no longer subject to the oppression of the past.
  • Sadness for the many girls, many lying sedated in huts around the village, still slaves to this awful trade.
  • Relief that they are getting the best help possible to heal their emotional and physical scars.
  • Grief for the burden they must be carrying and the guilt they feel for what is not of their doing or their fault.
  • Hope for their future, as they experience the immeasurable love of God, who heard their cries, cried with them and called us all to take action..

We will have the opportunity to meet these girls again tomorrow when we visit ARC, and many of the other who have been rescued by IJM since the first raids in 2003. This is why we have been called to do this work, not just the ten of us here in Cambodia, but all in Fairview Church, and all of our friends who have heard of this mission and are supporting it through donations and prayer. We are all making a difference in this world. Praise God.

Here is part of a song by Matt Redman, maybe this best expresses my gift to these girls.

Jesus, what can I give, what can I bring
To so faithful a friend, to so loving a King?
Savior, what can be said, what can be sung
As a praise of Your name
For the things You have done?
Oh my words could not tell, not even in part
Of the debt of love that is owed
By this thankful heart

I will offer up my life
In spirit and truth,
Pouring out the oil of love
As my worship to You
In surrender I must give my every part;
Lord, receive the sacrifice
Of a broken heart.

Heroes - Richard

Today was a day that put everything into perspective. No matter how big our problems seem to us - no matter how tired or sore my muscles are - no matter how much work we did or still have to do - no matter what the temperature is - no matter how dirty and grungy I am. Today was what it was all about.

We met some of the girls from New Song today - just briefly. Young girls who come back to the place where they were held prisoner, tortured and abused, to help minister to other children in the same village - possibly in the same situation.

What a humbling experience!

Words cannot describe my feelings or the myriad of emotions that were rushing through me when I stood before these normal-looking but courageous girls. They are the real heroes. All else pales in comparison.
We introduced ourselves and then left immediately so as not to stress them out too much.
As I left the building, I noticed one little girl, standing just outside the door - obviously too nervous to come in and meet us.

The silence on the bus as we pulled away spoke volumes

It is for such as these... (by Grant)

Can you imagine meeting some young teen girls who had been rescued from slavery in the child sex-trade and who are working through the emotional and physical and spiritual trauma and have the strength of character to go back to the village in which they were abused to help the children there?

I can do more than imagine that now because I met them. It almost doesn’t matter what we did today – we scraped walls, painted walls and patched walls and floors with mortar - because all that work pales in significance to that 5 or 6 minute meeting when we were leaving Rahab’s House and the girls and a couple of staff members arrived to do their twice weekly ministry to the kids of Svay Pak.

How do you feel reading this? I’m not sure how I feel. It is a wild mix of emotions. In meeting these girls my soul ached because of the abuse they endured but my soul also soared in the knowledge that they were rescued and are free and are healing. Utter distress mixed with profound joy.

I am also incredibly struck by the power of hope – these girls expressed such joy and hope. Such hope.

I will need some time to think and pray all of this through but I won’t have too much time because tomorrow we meet the rest of the girls at ARC (NewSong).

I thank you Lord for these girls; for your rescue of them and for their hope in you.

Grant

I met an angel today

Marty's Daily Diary #5

"Thank you God, Thank you."

As usual we all headed off to Rahab's House just after 7 and when we got there, grandpa was standing guard at the door and Clay had those scrummy coffees ready and waiting, and the kids appeared soon after. Having prayed we decided which jobs needed done and who was going to do what. I went upstairs with Barb and Kit to start some painting in the front room. Sunshine Yellow, but it looks sooo good. Bright, warm, welcoming, and most importantly it is completely away from the sordid pink that permeated the place.

The paint is water based and when we started it looked as if we had a disaster on our hands. There appears to be a white chalk-like filler on the walls beneath the old paint and as soon as we applied any pressure to the walls with the paint roller huge chunks of stuff were coming off and leaving a right mess. But I was convinced that if we could get a coat of paint on the walls it would act as a sealer and prepare the walls for a second coat. I ploughed on and got one coat on in the front room and by the end of the day, it is drying nicely and looks ready for tomorrow.

Just outside the upper front room, at the head of the stairs is a concrete shower area. I have included a photo of what this looked like on Monday. This is where the girls where showered. This awful concrete thing stood directly outside the pink room where a virgin was taken and also pornography was shot. (I really can't believe I wrote that and that I was standing in it today) Well, this afternoon I had the holy privilege of painting that shower area. The pink is gone.

I was sweating buckets but I continued to paint as I thought about the disgusting and inhumane acts that had occured in and around that shower. I praised and worshipped God for allowing me to accomplish this task.

But then I met an angel. Clay told us that some of the girls from ARC where coming so we needed to clean up and prepare to leave. All of us where nervous. What would we say? What should we do? How would we react? Then they arrived and walked in to the place which is soooo different from the last time they saw it last week. They said hello and introduced themselves to us and we to them. They all could not have been much older than early teens and they glowed. One girl, Hanna, (this is not her real name but to protect her I have decided not to use her name here.) spoke some English and she shone with pleasure and innocent beauty. These girls were rescued from brothels, some definately from Rahab's House in 2003. Was Hanna one of the girls from RH? Did she endure the horror of upstairs? I am sick to my stomach with the thought that she had to stand in that shower, and perhaps endured that pink hell. I want to scream out to the men who forced her to do such evil acts. I want to swear and to be honest I have this week but I won'y on this diary. BUT then I see Hanna's eyes - what an angel! She is smiling. She is being cared for. She is safe. She is discovering true love, unconditional love. Praise God. Thank you God for allowing me the privilege to meet one of your angels. Thank you for rescuing her.

I am so looking forward to the remaining days of work in RH. All my pain, tiredness and thoughts are now in a whole new perspective. Hanna and the others are worth everything I am doing. They are all angels!

Marty

Wednesday, May 7, 2008

Rice or Banana - by Paul


For those of us with children, you know that the recommended diet to pull out of a gastro-intestinal warzone is called the BRAT diet… Bananas, Rice, Apple sauce, Toast.

So does Cambodia have very small bananas or very large grains of rice?

Thanks for the emails

I want to thank everyone who has been emailing the team while we are here. You can't imagine how much it means to us to have so many people expressing their concern and promising to continue to pray for us, for Svay Pak and for the little ones of Svay Pak. Tiredness and time make it really difficult to get back to everyone. So if you haven't heard directly back from us please still know how much your messages mean to us.

Grant

"Oh, that's nice" - reflections from Grant

8 of us crawled into the van this morning heading out to Svay Pak because both Paul and Kelvin were not well – certainly not well enough to deal with the heat and pain of Svay Pak. I was dubbed construction leader and when we arrived we got to work. Most of the heavy lifting was done on Tuesday but much of the kitchen still had to come out. We also wanted to get scraping the walls and prep them for paint – Toph expressed the experience of scraping far better than I can.

By the end of the day – which arrived early – the kitchen was out, many of the walls were scrapped, the stubs of the walls were chipped off of the floors and we are one more step forward in the transformation of Rahab’s House – from horror to hope. By 1 pm two of the 8 of us were down with heat exhaustion or just regular exhaustion. We called it a day and headed “home.”

No walls came down today – that work is done. There was no huge sign of progress because we are now in the finicky stage where the work doesn’t show as much. So I’m not going to talk so much about the job today rather I want to reflect on the village and its people as some of the others have done.

I’ve seen villages in Cambodia that “look” very much like Svay Pak. My experience in those villages is how the children come running out to look at and touch the white people. I’ve been in villages where soon after arriving I have a child sitting on each foot having to lift one of them with each step forward. I’ve been greeted by open bright faces and even though these children live in poverty there is a joy in just being a child. Not so in Svay Pak. The children, boys and girls are much more guarded. In fact, the first couple of days there weren’t that many children who stayed to watch and it was only on the second day that some of them began to open up to some of the team members. Yesterday (Tuesday) some of the pimps were out to check us out – 17 year old thugs who look as hard as stone and walk with an arrogant swagger.

Today more little girls seemed to be around. One of them was blowing kisses to some of the men on the team, including me. In another context it might be considered cute – but not here. There is nothing cute about Svay Pak. It is ugly in its poverty and it is even uglier in its trade in children. Clay told us that the prettier the girl and the more they are made up – blonde streaked hair, earrings etc – the more likely they are victims of the child sex-trade in Svay Pak. It was so hard to look at these little girls and think about what likely happened to them last night and what will likely happen to them tonight – even as I am writing this message.

Marty and Jeff and I walked around part of the village today. We’ve been here long enough that most people know we are at Rahab’s House; they’ve seen what we are doing and some of them have profited from the bricks we discarded. It is hard to gage what the people thought of us – white Westerners who were not there to abuse the children.

When we got back to the hotel we were again covered in grime and paint scrapings and dust. The team headed to the rooms for the much needed showers. I stayed in the lobby just a couple of minutes longer than the others. A young man at the counter of the hotel asked what we were building. How do I answer this? What is he in Cambodia for? I said, “We are demolishing a kiddy-brothel and turning it into a school in Svay Pak.” Pause. He responded, “Oh that’s nice.”

Scraping, sledging and sweating .....(Kit)

Hi

Wednesday evening in Phnom Penh. As you will have read from the others, we are all adjusting to this new country and new culture. Despite the fact that we are drinkng liter after liter of water (and green tea, Coke, Gatorade, and rehydration salts, etc.) on a regular and frequent basis, we have had a few outbreaks of dehydration and heat effects. And when it comes it arrives - zing! - without warning. All of us have blisters, bruises, bites, aches, queasiness (or worse) and aches and pains. Everyone seems to be recovering though. We are tired, and we are sometimes simply overhwelmed by this small wretched village, and its main form of revenue.

The kids show up the minute we do. Some of the boys are nine or ten and are known pimps. This is the life they know. They stay all day, love to play catch, love to do those weird macho hand shake things (I learned fast) and I love spending time with them. We have noticed, though, that they can get pretty aggressive when they choose to. They also have their eyes on our empty pop tims, water bttles, rubbish, etc.

Toph was right - that 'pink room' had to go. We have now got all the cheap, lurid, hideous pink off, and we can start painting this room soon. Some of the things that happened in this room are unspeakable, unimaginable. Getting that paint scraped off was a nightmare....and worth every scrape.

I am pretty tired today. Feeling a bit queasy earlier, but all things considered, I am in pretty good shape. The headaches have conveniently arrived in the middle of the night, and they wake me up. This is a good thing in many respects - it meansI can take the medication and go back to sleep and usually wake up feeing okay.

Dinner with Marie Ens tonight, and now back at the hotel.Marty and Richard and I are trying to send our posts to this blog but we are having difficulty getting through.....

This comes from me, with love
Kit

Day # 3 - Richard

Today did not start off very promising. Kelvin and Paul both stayed in the hotel today as they were not well.
How much would we be able to do with 2 people down - one of them the only guy with experience in what we are doing?

When we arrived Clayton was there waiting with coffee for us! What a GREAT guy!

We started ripping out the kitchen. It was much harder than we anticipated, and after 1/2 hour, my shirt and pants were soaking wet and the sweat was dripping down my face. It felt really like I was in a sauna where the temperature had been turned up to the max.

I felt good though good though to be doing the physical act of destroying everything about the 'old Rahab's House'. With each stike of the sledgehammer, I felt that I was striking a blow for those girls against their oppressors.

My first uncomfortable moment came today as I was wheeling more of the rubble out to the dump. A girl who could not have been more than 5 years old was sitting on her bike at the entrance, and as I went past, she blew me a kiss. In any other context, this would have been weird, that a stranger would do that. But in this situation, in this place, I was disgusted and embarrassed - and completely thrown off. How do I react to something like that. Anything that I could say to her would not have any lasting effect after I had gone - even if she could understand English.
I also wonder about all the young boys that are hanging around. What are they being groomed for? Are they pimps in training? Or is there a market for them in this place too?
I can only hope and pray that God has a plan for the New Rahab's House to rescue these children from a life of abuse and violence that is rampant in this place.

Barb's blog

It is hard to believe that we've been in Phnom Penh for 3 working days. Each day has been filled with a million different emotions running all at once. But what has stood out the most to me in all of this poverty,is that God is definitely here with us - caring for us, giving us the strength to meet each task. I'm not even sure where to begin and I"m supposed to keep it short!1. Monday - we drove down Highway 5 9not quite like our highways in Canad). It's more like being on an exciting ride at an amusement park and there is just so much to see that you don't know where to look next. We arrived at our destination and there was the building in reality that we had seen in photos. We had about 15 minutes to wander through the various corners and then we all gathered together with Christa, Helen and Clay. We all sat down and just before Clay spoke I was sure that David Horn was standing beside, so the point that I turned to say "hi David" but of course he wasn't there. And then I remembered our last conversaton at the airport = David was so excited thaat at the time we would be having our small service at Rahab's House, Fairview would be having their Sunday evening service and prayer time for us. I just really felt the Home Team there with us at that moment - The Lord had brought us all together for that very special time. The following morning an email came form David and he told us the time that they were all praying for us - the exact same time that I felt David's presence. How beautiful is that! Thank you Jesus and thank you David!2. Tuesday - The fellas made amazing progress on Monday, knocking down walls and halling away debrie. I've never seen such team work from 8 guys who have never worked together and certainly not in the situation that we were working in. Martin wanted to take a video of us all taking a turn at wacking the wall, to send to you all. When my turn came, I walked up to the spot to swing the sledge hammer. Written on the wall were the words "I love you". I just wacked away until that part of the wall tumbled down. It was a very humbling moment. I could hear God's voice telling us how much he loves us and couldn't help but parallel God's wonderful, unconditional love compared to the false conditional love these little ones had to endure.3. In between scraping walls and sweeping floors, I've had the wonderful privilege of helping the guys by bandaging blistered fingers and toes, and pouring water over heads that have become extremely hot (a new meaning for "hot head"). I would happily stand and do that all day as these guys have just been relentless in getting all this heavy work done.4. There have been many children hanging around watching every move we make and wanting our empty water bottles and pop cans, which we give them. But there has been one little girl that has totally entered my heart and thoughts - she has the saddest face and most hauntingly sorrowful eyes. The other kids laugh and play, but she just stands and watches and when you go near her, she moves away. We prayed for her last night that she would see us as friendly people and not a threat. This morning she smiled and actually returned a wave!There is so much in my heart that I can't express on a blog or piece of paper. But one thing is sure, God is now at Rahab's House. We feel his light and love shining through all that was so dark.
Many thankyous Fairview for this incredible opportunity.

Just another day of opportunity

Marty's Daily Diary #4

A day of sickness in the team, dehydration, heat exhaustion, copious amounts of sweat, an enormous amount of drunk water: basically another good day at the office. We have entered a phase in the work were everything seems to be "slowing down." Are we? Health wise, physically, mentally or perhaps emotionally? The work seems to be, becasue we are not making such dramatic changes to the place as we did on the first 2 days. But yesterday I felt that I wasn't being the ambassador that I could be at Rahab's House. Yes, I was working and accomplishing the physical stuff but what about the people? Well, this morning Grant prayed for us when we arrived at RH and he mentioned the word "opportunity." I have no idea what he actually prayed, I just heard that one word. It caused me to remember the movie "Evan Almighty." In it, God (Morgan Freeman) appears to Evan's wife and says (paraphrased) "if someone prays for courage, do you think God will just give you courage or will He provide you with OPPORTUNITIES to be courageous?" Well? What do you think Marty? Today was full of opportunities. The kids came on mass to the front of RH and they wanted to sing and shout and "yahoo!!!!!" I think, day by day, each of us is getting more and more opportunities to interact with the kids and with the people in Sway Pak. Now, the REAL work is starting. "God, help me to use these opportunities to show you love, and mercy, and grace, and faithfulness, and hope with all these folks, especially these little kids." That is my prayer tonight. Please pray for me and the team to use such God-given opportunities.

Marty

"Just a sip"-Jeff

today was a very interesting day for the team. some of us were not feeling up to going to work today so Paul and Kelvin had to stay back at the hotel and rest up while the rest of us went to work.

The day started off really well. i can see that our presents in Svay Pak is welcome at least by the children, as the van turned to corner just down the street from Rahabs house i saw one of the little boys that was hanging around yesterday and as he saw us he was quite exited and i heard him give a big "YAY!" as the bus went by. Many of the other children were quite happy to see us again. i think that we have been around a couple of days that people are becoming more comfortable with us being there and more children are coming by the say hello

i did see probably one of the most disturbing things I've seen so far on this trip. some of the children wanted to talk to me and we just sat outside and chatted (or as best we could with the language barrier) for a bit. one of the boys showed me a scar on his stomach, it was about 7 inches long and took up most of the space on his little tummy. I'm assuming it was his brother but one of the boys told me that someone went and cut the young boy who couldn't have been older then 6. it probably happened when he was around four or five because it was fully healed and it was just a scar but i couldn't imagine someone who could do such a thing to a little child.

But all the children have been through they still are very happy and energetic kids. we have a special Svay Pak handshake that the kids will do with us endlessly and they just have a great time doing it.

Today i think was the hottest day yet. we finished breaking down the walls and started scraping the paint off of the walls downstairs and filling in cracks with mortar. after lunch though things got REALLY hot. Martin myself and Grant (daddy =P) went for a walk in the town just down a couple of streets and came back, but by the end of the walk i was feeling really overheated. i took some time and sat in front of a fan and drank some water. i ended up feeling absolutely miserable and dizzy and started to feel numb in parts of my body. i ended up drinking 3 litres of water and i still wasn't able to sweat so we decided that we should head back to the hotel and call it an early day. I'm feeling much better now that I've gotten liquids and some dinner into me but i think the team is going to have to keep hydrated and make sure that we don't over do it like today. i also figured out that it only takes a sip to figure out how thirsty you are and i really need to keep on top of that.

All in all today was a low but we are still doing something great and its something to be proud of. i would like to that you all for your continuing support and prayers for the team. we'll try to keep healthy and strong and get ready to get back to it tomorrow

Day 4 - Tim

What have I seen, with my own eyes, so far, in Svay Pak? Snapshots:
  • One teenage boy with HIV-like nodules on his face.
  • Old Vietnamese women who must have seen much suffering dating back at the very least to the Vietnam War and probably long before that.
  • Stinking cesspools with raw human sewage in the vacant lot/garbage dump just across the dirt street (we filled in some of them with broken bricks from the walls of Rahab's House).
  • A clearcut out back (not that there's anything intrinsically wrong with clearcutting as a tool in terms of forest science as long as it's used properly (much the same as a scalpel); but here the poaching and international sale of valuable timber is a highly corrupt business, the money probably enabling additional crimes).
  • A daycare, of sorts, with many very young children playing in a wet, fetid yard.
  • A moribund, if not outright deceased, Roman Catholic church not 60 yards from Rahab's House.
  • A Toyota Landcruiser (a $90,000 vehicle in BC) parked in its owner's garage where it had no business being in.
  • Many young pretty girl teenagers. Many babies on hips (their own, or their mothers'?)
  • A western white middle aged pedophile.
  • Large cockroaches running for cover when we busted their concrete bunkers.
  • Pimps galore on mopeds.
  • Five, six and seven year-old girls pulling at my shirt as I empty the wheelbarrow. I kid you not.
  • Our beautiful 3-4 year old Baby Doll, to whom the entire team was immediately drawn, with the sad eyes and yellow dress, hanging around the door to Rahab's House all yesterday.
  • The hand of God beginning to move.

My arms are pink -- Toph

For the second day in a row, I have returned to the hotel with pink and white paint flecks coating my arms. More than coating. As I drive the scraper along the walls, sometimes the paint separates easily: a two-inch wide scar running along the wall for the length of my arm, showering me in tiny particles of pink and white dust, which covers my gloves, my forearms, my head, my shirt, my trousers, my shoes. Sometimes it won’t leave the wall, so I spray some water on it, let it sit, and work at it more slowly, pressing extra hard, gaining new territory for the underlying concrete, inch by inch. This victory over the recalcitrant paint doesn’t yield the celebratory shower of flecks to the same degree, but they still do fall.

And the dry pink and white dust stays on my arms, until I notice my sweat causing it to congeal. And there is so much sweat—my shirt and trousers haven’t been dry since 8:30 in the morning—and now the sweat is caking the paint flecks into a chalky mass on my arms. It gets under the gloves, and at lunch I find my hands finely dusted with the remnants of the brothel’s paint.

Regretfully, I understand the colour. There is no doubt that the pink is meant to signal to Western pedophiles a girlish playfulness, an innocent femininity. It doesn’t. It is not a bright princess pink—it is not a clean colour at all. It is various hues of nauseating rosiness that I imagine can only symbolize Western expectations of what was once in these rooms. The colour begins eighteen inches off the floor: the hard wooden bed was not moved when the painting was done. And it reaches up about eight feet, but not to the ceiling; that would have been too much work.

Above and beneath the pink, is a dingy grey with brown streaks. Perhaps it was once white, but now it is stained with so many substances, and with time. This colour is harder to remove, less willing to yield to the metal scraper.

Nothing about these colours is wholesome. Nothing about them is innocent. We have knocked down the interior walls, but the colour remains on the perimeter walls, and upstairs, and so we scrape scrape scrape scrape scrape.

When I wash the paint flecks off back at the hotel, I notice that my arm has reacted to the paint, and I have small allergic splotches. I am grateful for this: my body rejects the colour as does my mind. I've spent today thinking about pink: this colour is there because of my culture, because Western white men used to come to this building for sex with children. Nobody on the team suggests that we simply paint over the walls; the unspoken understanding from everyone is that this colour must go.

And so my arms are pink.

Kelvin's post #4 "Disappointment"

Today was a very disappointing day for me because I could not go to work with the team. Paul and I did not have a very good night, he woke up not feeling well and I woke up with the worst case of dizzyness I have ever had. I have to admit that I have had mornings where I woke up feeling like this but that was in my teenage years which I am not too proud of. This was much worse and Kit and Barb both feel it is a case of dehydration and exhaustion. It is now afternoon and the team has returned after another successful day. I am feeling a lot better now, not 100% but better and look forward to getting back to work tomorrow, I hope Paul feels better as well.

kelvin

Not the day I was anticipating - by Paul

After yesterday wonderful progress, today was a disappointing day for me... not because of the work accomplished by the team today, but because I stayed at the hotel managing a whomping gastro-intestinal protest.

Kelvin was also fighting his own ailment - dizziness, so we agreed with our Kit, Barb and Grant that we would keep each other company. What a pair...

I think mine might be a combination of exhaustion, a bit of dehydredness (is this actually a word?) and maybe something I ate. I'm feeling much better now (lunch stayed at designated destination and is not jumping around), but still feel weak.

Maybe this was not the Blog entry you were looking for... however we all knew that this mission trip was going to come with some known inconveniences, which is why we all have been inoculated to the gills before heading out.

This will not be the last report of a team member having health issues, and although I'm very relieved to spend the day recovering in a cool hotel room, I look forward to gettting back to the job of transforming Rahab's House into a place of hope.

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

Kelvins post #3 "The walls are down!"

As we pulled up to Rahabs house this morning we piled out of the van with our tools and water in hand ready to hit the bricks again. Thinking about our progress yesterday I was figuring it would take all of today and most of tomorrow to finish demolishing the cubical walls. We felt good but 2 hours in our energy levels were dropping fast along with the hope to have the walls down in the next 2 days. The heat was taking it's toll, I could see it in the sweat staining our cloths and dripping from our faces, this was going to be one tough day! We took more water breaks, paced ourselves and one by one the walls fell down. God gave us the strength to work today and by the time we stopped at noon only 3 of the walls were still standing, it was incredible. After lunch we made short work of those 3 remaining walls. The next few days should be a little less physically demanding seeing as the heavy hammer work is over but there is still lots that needs to be done.

It is an honour to be working along side of the other 9 members of this field team. Despite the heat, the blisters, the bruises, the cuts and scrapes, the discovering of muscles we didn't know we had and the shear exhaustion, the team stayed focused and we got the walls down. Well done team!

Thank you home team and to all of you for your prayers and support, we could not have made it through the last few days without it.



Kelvin

If it's Tuesday, this must be Svay Pak (Kit)

Hi
My apologies for the 'radio silence' - we've had some computer problems.

I think that almost everyone who has posted a comment tonight will have mentioned the exhaustion. Yesterday we poured our strength, hearts, emotions and adrenaline into the work, and today every single one of us was feeling pretty depleted in terms of physical energy. We are , however, being careful, staying hydrated, taking breaks, etc. The guys on this team are amazing - and they are all so strong. You should see those sledgehammers flying!

At the end of our workday, we are a pretty grungy, sweat- soaked team - staggering to the van covered in grime, dust, spiderwebs, paint, mud and the unrelenting dust which gets in every nook and cranny, every skin pore.

On the whole we are staying pretty healthy. The weather, jet lag, humidity, heat, lack of air conditioning and food differences are not great for the migraine people on the team, and a couple of us have had a fairly challenging time with this. There have been some cuts and bruises, some dizziness, and suchlike....

The team members work really well together, and we are all so grateful for KVE, our excellent leader. Everyone seems to have an important role in making this team work - I love to see it all clicking together.

Well, it's late( just after nine in the evening, but under the circumstances , it's late here - we all meet in Grant and Jeff's room at 0620 ) and if I don't get out of this hotel lobby and back up to my room, my roommate will be wondereing where I am.

Marty has talked about the kids - one little girl in particular, who is very curious about us, very young (five?) very wary, very suspicious, has the lithe little body of a child - and the eyes of a twenty five year old. She breaks my heart. She has yet to smile at us but she watches us all day.

Okay, that's it for tonight. This comes with my love - we are SO conscious of your love and praers and support. Thanks so much.

K

What are we doing?

Marty's Daily Diary #3


Everyone is exhausted. We worked until 2:00pm today and to be honest we could have stopped earlier. Our energy levels were completely shot as we pounded wall after wall after wall, and wheeled out wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow. But what joy! Slowly over these past 2 days Rahab's House is being filled from back to front with light. The darkness has NOT overcome and light has broken through. AMEN!


But amidst the joy and the light is my confusion and sorrow. I encounter face after face of young girls and women as they wade through our rubble and every single one of them causes me to wonder about who they are and what happened to them last night. I am so confused becasue I don't know if I am looking at someone who has been victimised by that young pimp who is sitting smugly on his chair only 20 feet away or whether she herself is part of this awful place. Yet, each of them cause me simply to smile and pray that perhaps they will know that there is something different in these white folks they see hauling rubble. Perhaps they will see in me and the others a love and respect which they have never encountered before. Perhaps they will see Jesus standing smiling on them from the entrance to Rahab's House beckoning them in.


I am also acutely aware of my sorrow. I so want to play with the little kids. I want to give them something to fuel their smiles and childish behaviour. I want to spend some time encountering these people rather than being so caught up in the art of rubble dumping that I am falling way short of the opportunity God has placed before me to be His ambassador. Perhaps I am beating myself up and expecting too much from myself? I am so tired right now. My body aches. (Not my head thankfully today!) My hands are sore. (Yes I have soft hands) I have scratches and bruises from all the work but in some respect I think the real work is to act and speak in a way that these folks have never encountered before. (Apart from the wonderful people like Clay, Helen and Christa, who really are awesome folks!)


But at the end of this very hard day 2 I am also full of HOPE. The light has broken in and despite the fact that I was part of a team that hammered down walls etc, the real Light is breaking in to that place and I truly believe that Jesus is working and His will is being done, right now as I write, as you read, in and around Rahab's House.


All I can say then is "Come, Lord Jesus, COME!"


Marty

How much water can you drink - by Paul

We all knew that we put out a lot of energy yesterday, being the first day, being all excited to finally start the work we were called to Cambodia to do. By last night, we also knew that the day's work had taken a toll on us. I don't think we realized how much it took out of us.

I started the day wondering how I would be perceived by the other team. Thirty minutes later, having shoveled a ton of bricks into wheelbarrows, I felt like I used up my energy store for the day. I was hot, my shirt was already saturated with sweat, and my body was screaming for water.

We knew that our water consumption was going to be pretty impressive. On the way home yesterday we did a detour to Lucky's Market to pick up water... 60 1.5 litre bottles, figuring that it would last a couple of days. By the end of the day, I had finished off nearly 4 bottles, or just under 6 litres... of which most exited through my skin pores.

Despite the heat and the initial feeling that I wouldn't be pulling my weight today (a sentiment expressed everyone else on the team when were back in the hotel), it was amazing how much our team accomplished today. We may have actually completed more work today than yesterday, when we were fresh as daisies.

Which brings me to the end of my entry today. I know that we could not have accomplished this without all the prayers of our families and friends back home. Your prayers are being answered by a very gracious and loving God.

Make me wonder what miracles God will be performing tomorrow at Rahab's House. Time to go to bed so that he has a fresh body to work with :0)

Good night, Paul