Rahab's House, Svay Pak, Cambodia - Fairview Presbyterian Church Mission Trip 2008

2008-11-14T15:29:00.000-08:00

Some more changes

2008-06-24T11:06:00.000-07:00

We received some updated photos and news. 3 weeks of Vacation Bible School are on now and the school itself will be opened by the end of July.

Old view from the back

New view from the back

Old Kitchen

New Kitchen & Medical Supplies

The Shack

2008-06-19T10:28:00.001-07:00

I am currently readiung this book. It is excellent. I do not want to give the story a way so you will have to read it for yourself. But I do want to quote a paragraph from page 59.

"With evening quickly approaching, an intense discussion began regarding the efficacy of immediate pursuit or holding off until daybreak. Regardless of their point of view, it seemed that everyone who spoke was deeply affected by the situation. Something in the heart of most human beings simply cannot abide pain inflicted on the innocent, especially children. Even broken men serving in the worst correctional facilities will often first take out their own rage on those who caused suffering to children. Even in such a world of relative morality, causing harm to a child is still considered ABSOLUTELY WRONG. Period!"

Well, I don't thing I could agree more. What say you? Keep up the great work everybody at ARC and Rahab's House. And I think my prayer today is for Gary and everyone at IJM. Bless you all.

How many sacraments are there?

2008-06-12T18:18:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #15

#1 - to transform communities so that injustice isn't acceptable any more
#2 - Sway Pak is a "cesspool." There is no other word that I can use right now. ... BUT the Kingdom of God is in-breaking in it.
#3 - But at the end of this very hard day 2 I am also full of HOPE.
#4 - help me to use these [God-given] opportunities
#5 - I had the holy privilege of painting that shower
#6 - Today I saw some of hevaen's angels
#7 - 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.
#8 - So what about Rahab's House? Could it be the yeast that is needed in Svay Pak?
#9 - I am not very fond of this place.
#10 - Is the work we are doing in Svay Pak so profound that the devil is trying everything to disrupt this work and frustrate us?
#11 - 2 worlds colliding - Two worlds where evil is manipulating and controlling, and the kingdom of God is freeing and life fulfilling.
#12 - What makes someone rob a child of their innocence for 'pleasure' in 'room 9?'
#13 - These stairs have led children up to a hell-hole of iniquity like nothing we can imagine in our darkest nightmares. But now I pray that these stairs will lead child after child after child up in to the new shining rooms where they will hear about Jesus.
#14 - Instead of asking "where is God?" I need to be asking "where are God's people?"

We arrived back from Cambodia on May 18th, 3 1/2 weeks ago. So much has happened since then. I am back to work, preaching, being interviewed, preparing stuff, meetings, lunches, conversation after conversation, and 1 game of golf. Life is back to "normal." Talk of Cambodia and our "trip" have, for all intense purposes, vanished. What did I expect, really?

But I am still trying to deal with those 2 weeks. I journaled everyday during it and my thoughts and the thoughts of the rest of the team still resound in my head. So many questions. So many emotions. So many challenges. How have I changed? Have I? How have the rest of us changed? Have we? Will this change my view of my future ministry? Has it?

When I get a chance to stop whatever I am doing my thoughts often go back to Rahab's House and I wonder what is happeneing right now in that place? I can still see some of the faces of the kids. I can still see the garbage heap. I can still see Sochea and Clay and the rest of the blessed people who are devoting their lives to God's work there. I yearn to know if the place is making a difference. I yearn to know what God's kingdom is looking like right now in that cesspool.

Things are not "resolved" for me but I know that is OK. I don't like loose ends. If I begin to watch a movie late at night then I'm in for a late night - I need to see the end. I would love to see the end to this story, to this place, to this part in the in-breaking kingdom. Wouldn't you?

But the more I think about it the more I realise that I saw something even greater. I have read our team's diary entries and I think most of us have asked if we really have made a difference? Physically we have - the photos prove it, but is that all? I have found a profound sense of peace that we witnessed the emergence of a "sacrament" in Svay Pak. As an "aspiring minister wanne be" as I have been called in the past by the "super-intendant" I believe that a sacrament, in simple terms, is an ourward visible sign of an inward invisible reality. The reality that I beleve and I know is occuring in Svay Pak, in particular through Rahab's House, is that God has moved in to Svay Pak and has setup His house, His business and He is working to do His will in that place. I saw God's removal van drive right in to the heart of evil and take up residence. I'm sure there is a song title in there ... "God is in the house!"

I will never forget Rahab's House. I will never forget Svay Pak. I will never forget those angels in ARC. (God bless you all!)

I have re-entered "normal" life. But it will never be normal again because I have seen God on the move and I want to see that happeneing everywhere I go. There are so many places that need God to move in and claim as His house.

I hope that God will use me, my family, my friends, my church family, and anyone else I meet to help Him move in to another house, wherever that may be.

God bless the continued sacramental work of Rahab's House.

All my love and prayers
Marty (a.k.a. Squirrel)

Second thoughts....(Kit)

2008-06-12T17:47:00.000-07:00

I was pleased with the work we did. We all worked so hard, and Rahab’s House looked so terrific when we were done. Sure, there is still work we could not accomplish in our time frame, but we got those walls down, we obliterated the Pink Room, we connected with the kids in a meaningful way…it was so satisfying, so wonderful…or was it? I’ve been trying to convince myself since I came home that we had done something significant in Svay Pak, but this little voice kept eating away at me, reminding me of my own word: ‘speck’. Weren’t we just a bright, eager, outraged little grain of sand on a mighty shore of degradation and human trafficking and sexual abuse? We, the little niggling voice said, were insignificant, we will be washed over, we will be forgotten . Who were we kidding?

I didn’t mind our work being ‘small’ – as I said early on in this blog, I am well used to ‘Speck Work’. I just didn’t want it to be futile. And that is what that voice was saying.

Then last week I went to the regular monthly Elders’ Meeting. We have started each meeting for the past few months by studying a chapter from a popular Christian book, and we settled in for another session this evening. But Grant, trying to recover from Cambodia, prepare for a week in Ottawa, be with his family, minister to a congregation, etc, etc, had actually forgotten to read his chapter. So, we decided that just for this meeting, we would put the book aside, and turn to Scripture. Completely on impulse, Grant said, “Let’s turn to…um…Luke 9, the feeding of the 5000”. God forgive me, I felt a flash of disappointment – what was there to discuss in this well-known story? And then Grant started to read, while my little world quietly turned upside down on me.
Of course! We WERE just grains of sand, just little threads. But in the same way that a kid with 2 dead fish and a bit of bread could actually participate in - be a living part of! - our Lord feeding 5000 people, and have twelve baskets of leftovers….we also, in our own tiny way, were making our little stitches in a heavenly tapestry. Suddenly the work we did in Svay Pak took on a wonderful, fresh significance for me. It mattered after all. It mattered to the One who counts the most.

A Secret Oasis - Tim

2008-06-01T00:10:00.000-07:00

Marty asked if I would put my little report about ARC from last Sunday (May 25th) on the BLOG. It essentially repeats my earlier blog about this encounter from in-country.

Imagine if you will a secret oasis behind enemy lines, a royal, shady compound behind high walls and security cameras. Secret because it contains the priceless living property of some very evil people who will stop at nothing to get it back. Even the neighbours think the place is just an orphanage. You walk past a swimming pool into a gazebo and sign a confidentiality agreement. The Cambodian male director, a great guy who by the end of your visit will humbly ask you to pray for him, leads you into two large adjacent 4 storey houses, almost like a hotel. An outbuilding serves as offices and staff quarters. You meet teachers and house mothers, see bright classrooms, computers, an infirmary visited by one of the country’s best doctors, breezy landings and spacious bedrooms with bunkbeds. Teenage girls sometimes appear or are furtive, sometimes in groups, sometimes alone. Some of them were rescued from Svay Pak in 2003, from the very brothel you are smashing up. You can’t believe your eyes that the little girls you’re seeing were on the market 5 years ago.

This is ARC, Agape Restoration Centre, or NewSong, same thing. 45 girls live here, rescued from rape factories and abandonment by parents. (you think, even the nazi SS loved their own children.) You know that there are 30,000 others still un-rescued somewhere in the country. You’re told it costs 10,000 American dollars to give each one the medical, psychological, educational, and spiritual aftercare required, and you get an inkling of the scope of damage done and the rocky road they’re on. In the mess hall you eat a wonderful Khmer lunch and Marty’s banners are handed out in a joyful and excited ceremony.

You sit quietly, watching, eyes front. An ARC teacher sits down and motions 3 of the girls to sit across the table from you. These are the ARC-angels. They speak with you in broken English about how they’re doing in school for what seems like a long time but isn’t, because you’re concentrating hard. Then, out of the blue, you’re hit with a sledgehammer. One of them asks, very softly, if you can be her daddy. Not her knight in shining armour to whisk her off to North America, just her ordinary, loving, kind, protective daddy. As you pick yourself up off the floor, dimly aware others on the team are standing with you, watching together this high drama, two things slowly dawn on you. First, the matchless, combat-grade courage it took for her to ask that question of you, who must look very like the hundreds of abusers she’s suffered from. Second, you’ve been granted the rarest, once-in-a-lifetime moment of privilege. You’ve seen, talked, and against all solemn instructions even enclosed their hands with yours. And because the girls once enslaved at Rahab’s House weekly go back to minister there, you’ve even been allowed to be partners with them in by far the best work you’ve ever done, with these godly young women, new creations, who have shared so deeply in the fellowship of Christ’s sufferings, and learnt about forgiveness and the power of God. And they don’t want you to leave.

You wonder who are you that you could be allowed anywhere near something so sacred. Then you remember the terrible, bottomline mercy and grace of first Corinthians 6 “you are not your own, you have been bought at a price.”

Preliminary Team Report

2008-05-29T17:39:00.001-07:00

On Sunday May 25, 2008 the Field Team reported back to the church about the mission trip to Rahab's House. Each member chose one aspect or area of the trip which they wished to speak about. An audio recording of this is available from our church website http://fairviewchurch.ca/index.cfm?i=4385&mid=18&showid=6107

Re-entry - Grant

2008-05-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

When the astronauts of the space program return to earth they call it re-entry. From Mercury to Gemini to Apollo to the Space Shuttle and International Space Station missions all astronauts go through re-entry. Re-entry from space involves all the necessary preparation and then the intentionality of “heading home.” The transition is from one world to another – from weightlessness to experiencing the full forces of gravity. As the space craft ploughs through the atmosphere and begins to slow down the astronauts experience increased G-forces – they experience extreme pressure. They are also cut off from communications because of the ionization occurring around the craft. Finally they land (or splashdown like in the old days) and they are back home – home to a world that is much as they left it but a world they see as very different from their experiences.

This has been my 5th re-entry from Cambodia and each one has been a different experience. As I reflected on my return home this time I was reminded of the astronaut re-entry process. The experience “away” is in many ways “other-worldly.” Cambodia is a very foreign culture to us. It is also a country that was dismantled to the point of the stone-age by the Khmer Rouge and in the last 30 years has clawed its way into the 21st century. Svay Pak is another world itself where children are a commodity to be bought and sold and used and abused at the sick whims of adults who see these children as objects to be used for their own obscene gratification.

I have returned to the world I left but I’ve been in another world. I’ve experienced the increased pressures in returning to the “regular world” while still holding this “other world” in my soul. Those increased pressures we often refer to as culture shock and reverse culture shock but it is more than just that because our experiences were not just of another culture but of a very real evil. The increased pressure – the increased G-force – has been difficult.

In re-entry astronauts also experience communication “blackout.” As much as they might want to communicate with Mission Control and as much as Mission Control wants to communicate with them, they cannot. Much of the Field Team has experienced “communication blackout.” Some times it is too difficult to express what we’ve experienced and some times we just haven’t processed it enough to be able to express it – some things we never will. It is also difficult for the Home Team who want to hear but who are also going through something of overload as they’ve carried on in the regular world and supported the Field Team and families throughout. But there others who only want to hear that we had a “nice” trip and close themselves off from the pain of what we would share.

I’ve been in another world and returned to the regular world. I am so thankful to be back with my family. My family has always been very high in my priorities. This time in Cambodia has only served to reinforce the importance of my family to me and my relationship with each of these people I love so much.

Of course return to the regular world also means dealing with all the regular world stuff – this is my place of struggle. After being immersed in a world where every move is done with intentionality and is therefore meaningful, returning to the regular world to find conflict over the insignificant, debate over trifling matters and valuable time spent on self-gratification…well let’s just say my patience is a little thin at the moment. I am not suggesting that only things like the child-sex-trade are important but this experience does have an impact on one’s priorities.

We are home but our lives are changed.

We are home but we cannot look at the regular world the ways we did just a few weeks ago.

Kelvin's post #11 "Re-entry"

2008-05-28T22:46:00.000-07:00

We have been back in Canada now for over a week and have settled back into what we consider to be "normal life". I have been thinking a lot about that in the past few days and now realize that what we have is really not normal. We live in a place where our landscape is green and full, our roads are paved, we don't need razor wire fences and pad locks around our homes and property, we have proper garbage pickup and disposal,we can drink fresh water straight from the tap, when we flush our toilets (with fresh water!) the waste actually goes away to be treated and doesn't just run a few feet away to drain into a swamp behind the house. These are just a few of the things that I have always taken for "normal" having grow up with it all. We are extremely blessd living in Canada and I will never take it for granted again.

The way that most of the adults interact with their kids is also a lot different, I never saw any of them playing or showing any kind of affection to the kids . I was told by one of the locals that as babies the kids are considered cute but once a child is able to walk and talk the parents lose interest in them (Barb's little sunshine girl and her mom were an exception). Is this because they do not know how to interact with their kids? When the parents were kids themselves it would have been around 30 years ago and alot of them have probably had to grow up on their own because their parents would have been taken away or killed. I do not know this to be the fact but given the countries history it is probably a fairly good assumption.

Another thought that ran through my head was that this may be a way for parents to disconnect themselves from their kid's knowing that some day soon they would be selling their little bodies to the highest bidder. If these parents have any kind of heart it must hurt knowing the torture the kid's are having to endure. It would kill me to know something like this was happening to my kid's.

The one big question I have is how did a little one lane dirt road town like Svay Pak end up being one of the worlds capitals for child sex? As was said on Sunday there is no sign on the side of the highway saying "Svay Pak, turn left 200 meters ahead".

There are things that go on in this world I will never understand and this is one of them. I just hope that this little project that our team has been a part of will grow into something that will push out the evil that lurks in the alleys of Svay Pak.
May God bless the people that will be working out of Rahabs house and may this place become a blessing to the comunity, especially to the kids.

Kelvin

Our Early (EARLY) Morning Reflections in Cambodia (Kit)

2008-05-26T17:42:00.000-07:00

As requested, here is the list of the Bible verses we read and were sustained by during our time in Cambodia. I deliberately chose familiar and much-loved verses/passages for these times. We followed with a time of prayer with a different team member 'closing' for us each day.

Isaiah 41:10
So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand

Micah 6:8
He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.

Psalm 46:10
Be still, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.

1 Corinthians 3:16
Don't you know that you yourselves are God's temple and that God's Spirit lives in you?

Psalm 25: 4-5
Show me your ways, O Lord, teach me your paths; guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior, and my hope is in you all day long.

1 Peter 5: 6-7
Humble yourselves, therefore, under God's mighty hand, that he may lift you up in due time. Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.

Proverbs 16:3
Commit to the Lord whatever you do, and your plans will succeed.

Romans 12: 1a ( from The Message)
So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering.

Hebrews 12:1-2 (after briefly talking about the wonderful catalogue of ‘the faithful’ in Chapter 11. The picture is of a race, not a sprint, but an ‘in-it-for-the-long-haul’ run. And I just HAD to slip my beloved Hebrews 11-12 in somewhere!

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God. Consider him who endured such opposition from sinful men, so that you will not grow weary and lose heart.

Psalm 28:7
The Lord is my strength and my shield; my heart trusts in him, and I am helped.

Joshua 2: 1-13
Then Joshua son of Nun secretly sent two spies from Shittim. "Go, look over the land," he said, "especially Jericho." So they went and entered the house of a prostitute named Rahab and stayed there. 2 The king of Jericho was told, "Look! Some of the Israelites have come here tonight to spy out the land." 3 So the king of Jericho sent this message to Rahab: "Bring out the men who came to you and entered your house, because they have come to spy out the whole land." 4 But the woman had taken the two men and hidden them. She said, "Yes, the men came to me, but I did not know where they had come from. 5 At dusk, when it was time to close the city gate, the men left. I don't know which way they went. Go after them quickly. You may catch up with them." 6 (But she had taken them up to the roof and hidden them under the stalks of flax she had laid out on the roof.) 7 So the men set out in pursuit of the spies on the road that leads to the fords of the Jordan, and as soon as the pursuers had gone out, the gate was shut.
8 Before the spies lay down for the night, she went up on the roof 9 and said to them, "I know that the LORD has given this land to you and that a great fear of you has fallen on us, so that all who live in this country are melting in fear because of you. 10 We have heard how the LORD dried up the water of the Red Sea for you when you came out of Egypt, and what you did to Sihon and Og, the two kings of the Amorites east of the Jordan, whom you completely destroyed. 11 When we heard of it, our hearts melted and everyone's courage failed because of you, for the LORD your God is God in heaven above and on the earth below. 12 Now then, please swear to me by the LORD that you will show kindness to my family, because I have shown kindness to you. Give me a sure sign 13 that you will spare the lives of my father and mother, my brothers and sisters, and all who belong to them, and that you will save us from death."

1 Peter 3:14 (this was when Jeff was so ill and in hospital).
But even if you should suffer for what is right, you are blessed. Do not fear what [others] fear - do not be frightened. Take courage.

2 Peter 1:2-8
Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.
3His divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness. 4Through these he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.
5For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; 6and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; 7and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. 8For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.

Am I Missing Anything? by Barb

2008-05-26T15:17:00.000-07:00

Well, there are a couple of answers to that question:

1. Traffic – do I miss the crazy zany traffic of Phnom Phen? Well …. The streets here seem very empty and there is no challenge when you come to a cross street – green means go and red is stop; driving here is very orderly and there is no room for a challenge - folk don’t like you crossing the yellow line or white ones for that matter. Yes, I do miss not having the thrill of a lifetime going to and from work each day!
2. Blogging? ……. Not sure, but don’t laugh you guys – I’ve decided to buy a laptop! No Kidding! For those of you who don’t understand this – I was the worst blogger of the 10!
3. My Roommate, Kit? Yes. For not knowing each other prior to this trip, we did okey! I miss our glass of coke at the end of the day and our chats; hearing you say “okey, I’m turning my ears off now”; your caring and concern for all of the guys, your sense of humor and your ability to take a couple of verses and produce the most eloquent sermon!
4. The "Guys"? Far more than I ever thought! So different, so diverse, so very hard working, yet so compassionate about the work they were doing. Yes, I really do miss them all.
5. Rahab’s House – do I miss the scraping and scraping, the Polysporin, the kids playing, watching Richard playing soccer or being a merry-go-round; do I miss the hugs and infectious smile of Sunshine and her family – yes, more than anything.
6. Morning Prayer and Evening Chats – yes, that brought us all together and kept us focused as a team and as individuals
7. Rice and noodles, noodles and rice – no …… not really
8. Meeting Clay, Christa, Helen (from Aim, IJM, Chab DaC) and everyone from ARC; seeing Marie Ens and Rescue and meeting all those that benefit from her place of rescue – it was such a privilege to meet and see firsthand the difference they are making to so many lives in Cambodia. They are living Jesus every day, all day, 24/7.
9. Those amazing coffees every morning? – oh yeah – many thank yous Clay They were totally amazing!
10. Do I miss my little Sunshine family – yes, absolutely – every day and many times a day I think of them
11. Would I do it all over again? Yes, in a heartbeat.

And now, back at home …… what happens from here? To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. The 2 weeks in SP were life changing and are extremely difficult to translate into words – there is so much in my heart and thoughts that words by themselves can’t explain. The sites, sounds, feelings of Cambodia pop into my life here in Vancouver at any time of the day or night and give a kind of “home-sick” feeling. Only the Lord knows for sure what lies ahead and I leave it all in His hands, knowing that His ways are perfect and He is in control.

Thank you to everyone at Fairview and to my family and friends for all of your support.
Thank you to all of the folk in Cambodia – Clay, Christa, Helen, Marie and the Cambodian workers that we had the privilege of meeting – you all touched my life in ways you can't imagine.
Richest blessings to each of you.
Ah-Koon.

Arms in the air. Toph

2008-05-25T15:16:00.000-07:00

One of my most persistent memories is of the traffic in Phnom Penh, motos everywhere weaving in and out, each of them honking at every intersection, two to five people on each, helmets a rarity. In amongst them, every few days, there would be one with the passenger holding his arm in the air. Holding an IV bottle. Sometimes the bottle was wrapped in a black plastic bag, perhaps intending to offering protection from the sun, but in fact absorbing its heat, internalizing it. Welcome to outpatient care in Cambodia.

This is my image for the country: balanced precariously, dodging obstacles, sustained somehow despite reason, safety, and common sense. Business as usual, despite external circumstances, despite personal hardship.

Cambodia has endured so much in my lifetime—unprovoked American bombing, genocide, drug trafficking, sex trafficking, exploitative foreign investment… It’s a continual cycle, and the fact that the country persists at all is in many ways amazing. And behind it all is a culture that once created an empire that lasted five centuries, which built massive stone monuments with beautiful carvings that continue to stand, even though they were built without mortar, just stacked, liable to collapse at any moment. There’s another image of the country.

We’ve told lots of stories on this blog, but we haven’t told them all. Some are private, deep feelings that struggle to find words. Some are painful, with memories that clench our chests and make it hard to breathe until we choose to think about something else. Some are confidential, left unmentioned for issues of security. Some are sublimely ridiculous in their beauty, such as the SWAT-team efficiency of our stealth leapfrogging Presbyterians snapping photographs of pedophiles. Each of us have brought different perspectives to the stories we have told, and we have each been selective. In many of my posts, I have wanted to see hope in Svay Pak: but is this really saying something about the village, or does it just say something about me?

I know what stories I am omitting. I haven’t written about Room 8, and I’m not going to. It hurts, and it’ll be inadequate. So I always found something else to write about, and on the days I didn’t, well, I just didn’t post. But Room 8 stays with me, even though its walls have come down. I feel the hollowness inside me whenever I think of it, and I don’t feel better because it is gone. That story is just for me, I’m afraid.

Returning to life in Vancouver doesn’t involve forgetting, but it means we need to carve out a space for the thoughts we’ve had. “Did you have fun?” I am asked. “Was it a good trip?” Well, let’s see. I began to re-evaluate everything about my life and the world, and this process will likely continue. I’ve begun to realize more about human evil than I had ever allowed myself to think about before, and feel disgusted and ashamed, vicariously assuming responsibility for others. I hope to God that I emerge somehow a better person, truer to who I want to be. “Yes, fun. Very good, thanks.”

There are stories I am omitting.

The trip is over, but this isn’t an ending. Rahab’s house is beginning a new identity, and we will never know the details of what happens in the building. All we know is that we were able to make it a place that would better serve the rescued girls who offer community outreach there twice a week, better serve those who teach there, who offer medical help, who offer themselves, week after week, to improve Svay Pak. And we, who were there just briefly, who were balanced precariously, despite reason and common sense, are now holding our stories above our heads, wrapped in plastic, and letting them feed us, and give us life.

First Impressions of Svay Pak -- Toph

2008-05-25T15:14:00.000-07:00

(This was my part of the Team's report back to the congregation, read this morning)

When we first turned off the highway, we entered another world. The turn was unmarked—no one comes to Svay Pak who doesn’t already know where it is. We rumbled along a dirt road and first saw the white façade of Rahab’s House. The folding metal gate, the building’s entrance, had been drawn, and the front room, clean and painted, felt receptive, with Clayton, our Aim4Asia contact, awaiting us. Inside were wooden desks, and coloured visions of Bible stories on the wall. For the first twenty-five feet, it looked fine, safe, healthy, with a wooden staircase leading to an upper floor; not like what I imagined a brothel to be at all.

I was wrong. Access to the remaining eighty feet of the building’s depth was along a thin corridor: two people would squeeze by one another if they passed. And off the corridor were the rooms. First, on each side, came the grey-white rooms, larger spaces where deals could be struck for the sale of children. And then came the pink rooms: numbered one through five along the right, and six through nine on the left. I can describe their size (about six-and-a-half-feet square, just large enough for a stained, wooden bench-bed) and the colour (a dusty pink), but neither of these describes the rooms. They were filthy; light fixtures dangling, dust and dirt everywhere, greasy cobwebs sticking to moist walls. And the graffiti, beside little flower stickers—scratches for help, with confusing messages proclaiming “I love you” over and over: Was this a script for the girls enslaved there? Or the words they had continually heard? Or a genuine cry for honest affection, from family, friends, or from God? We had no idea. Doors hung askew, wood was rotten. Behind them the cold emptiness of the cement kitchen, two fetid mosquito-infested wash-basins, and a squat pot gave way to the exit, which had been cemented over, to prevent any escape.
The weight of the evil on the place was viscous. And all this was in the dark, seen only by flashlight. We were sneezing from the dust, we were crying from the asphyxiating burden hanging over the place, and we were stumbling in the dark, both literally and metaphorically. And we weren’t alone.

Eee eee, we heard coming from the cold concrete darkness, eee eee. A few of us suspected it was a bat, and our hearts clenched at the prospect of our work before us. Eee eee. What were we doing in this place, why had we been called here, now? And were we ready? Eee eee. And that’s when we had our first little miracle: the cry in the darkness was found to be a baby kitten, trapped and abandoned by its mother, living in that building, somehow, alone. But God had brought us there at a time where we could rescue it, and give it the hope of better life and care. We had a purpose amongst those filthy, evil walls. Within half an hour, our sledgehammers had begun their assault on the remains of the brothel.

Three Little Words

2008-05-24T09:31:00.000-07:00

It's been just short of a week since we arrived back in Vancouver. It's been a bit rough adjusting to the time change - not sleeping at night and making up for it at the office! It seems so long ago that we were melting in the sticky heat of Cambodia that it almost doesn't seem real. But then I wake up in the middle of the night (wondering where I am), and lie there trying to get back to sleep, the memories come flooding back. Or a picture pops up on my computer, and I remember.
I was asked by someone this week to sum up our experiences in three sentences. Being the non-stop talker that I am, I boiled it down to three words:

Amazing, Heartbreaking and Rewarding.

Amazing - I have not been anwhere like Cambodia before - a country of contrasts - the people of Svay Pak and Phnom Phen, of ARC and Rescue. The sights and smells, the garbage everywhere, the insane traffic, the food. The beauty of the countryside contrasted with the overcrowding of the city. The hot, sticky, humid air and the warm rain showers to the pounding torrential rain. The poverty and (for want of a better word) slums and the grandeur of the mansions, temples and government buildings. It is a beautiful, humbling place. We don't realize just how blessed we are in this country.

Heartbreaking - from the kids of Svay Pak, to the orphans of Rescue, to the girls at ARC, to the boy selling newspapers outside our hotel, to the girl carrying a huge plate of lotus seeds on the riverfront, to the boy dragging himself across the street begging because he can't walk. They are all children of God, but because of circumstances, they will not all have the same future. I got to know the kids of Svay Pak much better than the others. They are just ordinary kids who are looking to have fun, to be loved, to get attention- other than being yelled at or hit.

And yet they are in survival mode. They are 'sharks' - out for what they can get, because this is what they have been taught. This is all that they know. The only way they know how to behave. When a soccer ball that a boy has been given is taken away by an adult because they can make a profit by selling it, or they don't want kids playing in front of their home, or they just want it for their own child - what does that say to him?

Then there are the unspeakable things that happen to them at night. I don't want to believe that the kids I was playing with during the day were the same ones being abused at night - but I know that everyone is for sale in this place. Kids have no value here - except as a product to be sold. And when they no longer can fetch a good price, they are discarded with the rest of the garbage

You can see it in their eyes.
I really noticed it in the pictures. It was rare to capture their happy smiling faces. the eyes gave them away - sad, hard too old for their years. Their childhood has been stolen from them - just like the soccer ball.

Rewarding - Because the old, dark, horrible, evil building has gone!! the cubilcles, the ugly, cheap pink paint, the ceiling, even the nails are all gone. It has been replaced by a bright, open space, that can be used to redeem these kids and maybe give them a brighter future. Give some value and self esteem back to them.
I hope that our being there has left the door open to the kids and people of Svay Pak and that they will see it as a safe, welcoming place that they can go. With people like Clay and Ratna there, I am confident that this is the future of Rahab's House and the reason that God sent us there.

Rewarding because I have seen glimpes of the Kingdom in places like ARC and Place of Rescue and now Rahab's House, where the yeast is starting to spread and will keep spreading until evil has no place left to go. This has given me the proof that God is working to redeem his creation and there is hope for this world - and us.

I would like to thank everyone on the Field Team for making this such a memorable trip. and the Home Team for the support and prayers that made this trip a reality - and of course thanks be to God for giving us this opportunity and allowing me to be a part of it.

The Team in Action

2008-05-19T11:04:00.001-07:00

Do you want to know what the team did? The following video is the team in action, knocking down the walls during week one. Holy work!

First swings

2008-05-19T08:12:00.000-07:00

Monday 5th May 2008, at Rahab's House in Svay Pak.

How it all started.

Due to network limitations whilst we where in Phnom Penh I was not able to upload these videos. The following three videos are the first swings of the hammers.

1. Helen from Chab Da Coalition

2. Christa from IJM

3. Grant

Reflecting from Barb

2008-05-18T07:36:00.000-07:00

It is Sunday evening in Taipei Airport and we are waiting for a 7 hour layover to end before the flight home to Vancouver. Some of us are just so eager to be on that flight home. And then there is me - I wandered aimlessly for a couple of hours, not interested in shops or people watching, but a little sad that this chapter is ending and wondering how the next one will begin. This past week I've met 9 people that I really didn't know very much about before this trip, but know without a doublt that God brought us all together in a way no one could have imagined. Yes, there were difficult days but we knew that God was with us giving us the strength necessary for each moment of each day. And that was only possible because David and the home team were praying for us non-stop. I could feel that every day but it was even more evident on Tuesday when Jeff and Kelvin weren't well. I spent my day on the sixth floor going between 2 rooms. As the day progressed I knew that Kelvin was out of the woods, but not Jeff. He really started getting alot worse as the team was coming back from Rahab's House and I just wanted Grant to come through that door so that Jeff could get better care along with an IV. Jeff went through so much. His inner strength was much more than any 18 year old I've ever had as a patient!
And then all of a sudden Friday came ..... the guys had worked so hard to get us all to this point - the scraping was done, painting got finished, inside and out. Kit put her last coat of paint on the door and on the cross, the loovered windows were all washed - at least the dirt was off them even though they didn't shine like when Windex is used. The kids kept calling for Richard for one last soccer game or being swung around as though they were on a ride at the PNE, only this was much more fun.
Sunshine came with her mom and little sister for one last cleaning of the wound on her forehead; it was looking better; mom was doing a good job - you could really tell how much she loved and cared for her little girls. Fortunately one of the fellows from Agape was helping us and he was able totranslate for me while I explained what to do with a tube of polysporing that we gave her from our first aid kit. It was difficult saying good-bye, yet on the other hand I knew that she would feel safe coming back to Rahab's House for all the activities that will be happening there.
I left Rahab's House on Friday afternoon, confident that God's love, grace, and compassion was now there and it will continue to be there because of people like Clay, Helen, Christa and the others. And some of the girls that were rescued from that terrible place are now going back and that is happening because of a miracle - they have Jesus in their hearts and lives. Only Jesus can change that dark terrible place. One of the highlights of my time in Cambodia was Thursday when Toph took me on a "walk about" around this little village. There are no words to describe how my heart felt, seeing such poverty, such darkness and deprivation.So, here I am reflecting on 2 weeks (I'd be here all night if I filled in all the spaces), wondering what it all means for me and for each team member. I can only think of the vers "commit your paths to the Lord ...."
Before I close, I would like to thank Kit for all of her patience, wisdom and love, taking me on as a roommate! God truly had His hand in bringing us together. And I would also like to thank all of the guys for all of their hard work and commitment, for their compassion, and their love for the Lord, and for the times of prayer and sharing - I will cherish those times forever.
It is now 10:30 pm so will close.
Many many thank yous for all of your love, caring and prayers that have followed each of us on this incredible journey.
BlessingsBarb

Week 2 in pictures - by Paul

2008-05-18T06:57:00.000-07:00

We're all in Taipei at the moment. It is 10:00 p.m. Sunday night, so most of Fairview folks are just waking up and getting ready to worship together. It's strange to think that by the time we land in Vancouver at 7:25 p.m today, our Sunday will have already been 43 hours long.

I've uploaded a number of pictures, which will give some context to the blogs that have been written this past week. Enjoy them.

http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/Week2InCambodia

on our way- Jeff

2008-05-18T06:47:00.000-07:00

well today is the day. we come back home.
it really has been an interesting trip home. this morning i woke up and with all excitement started to pack up my things. i made my bed and found something i would rather have not seen. a BIG HUGE UGLY cockroach was in my bed. who knows it could have been there all night. this is when my thoughts were, "I need to get out of this country". don't get me wrong, Ive loved this experience and would do it again in a heartbeat, but this was just a little too much, and i would like to sleep in my own bed tonight.
we finished packing and went down for some breakfast. this was the first big plate of food that i have been able to eat since Tuesday and it was GOOD. i think I'm getting mostly better at this point in time. we finished up breakfast and did some last look arounds at our hotel rooms and headed off for the van to take us to the airport. we went through the city taking in the last few minutes of Cambodia that we would see.
when we got to the airport we found a Dairy Queen. so some of us had blizzards and then it was time to board. we got on the plane and arrived safely at the Taipei airport. this brings us to the now. we have to wait 7 hours for our last plane to arrive to take us home. we are all a little anxious to get on that plane. i think its the only time when we are dying to get on a plane that will take us 14 or so hours, but it will be worth it.

see you all soon
Jeff

Transcendant and Imminent - trying to pull it all together (by Grant)

2008-05-18T04:35:00.000-07:00

The first thing that I have to do while sitting here in the airport in Taipei is to aplogize for the use of big churchy words. I recently preached on the need for the church to use language the world can understand. I used the words Transcendant and Imminent in the title to this blog because those are the only words that would come to mind.

Transcendence is that quality of God where we see Him as being above us, greater than us, far away from us. It speaks of God's power and Lordship as He oversees all things.

Imminence is that quality of God where He comes close to us - Jesus is God come close. The Holy Spirit is the imminence of God where He is with us and even a part of us.

I chose these two concepts because that's the way I am processing the last couple of weeks. We have been very involved in the small picture, the closeup, the imminence. In the midst of thinking about that I am also thinking about the big picture, the wide angle view, the transcendence.

God sees everything in both views all of the time. God sees and loves the individual child in Svay Pak and He sees and loves all those trapped in the child sex-trade around the world. We have difficulting doing both at the same time which is not unreasonable. When we look at the big picture we can end up throwing our hands up in the air because the problem is too big to tackle - the evil is too fierce to confront. But when we look at the closeup as we've done the last couple of weeks we see the individuals, we see the victims and the abusers and those who profit from the trade. In seeing only the closeup we can become so focused on what we see that we can forget the bigger issues.

The first time I was in Cambodia in 1995 I met a girl named Kim who was living in an orphanage in the north of the country. She was 14 and had escaped from the pimps who bought her from her parents. She couldn't go home because her parents had sold her - she couldn't trust them and honour plays a twisted roll in this. I was disturbed by the story by glad that this girl was safe and was being protected. That same trip I chose to leave for home from Phnom Penh rather than spend a few days in Bangkok with Brian and Louise McConaghy partly because I just wanted to get home to my family and partly because I didn't want to go to a place that was so well known as a destination place for those who sexually abuse children.

When I returned home there was word of Canada writing a new law to prosecute Canadians who committed crimes against children in other countries. With Kim in mind I wrote to the Minister of Justice and urged him to press forward with the legislation. I thought that for me that letter might be the end of my involvement in the issue of child sex-trafficking and abuse. I was wrong.

Through becoming more involved in Cambodia through Fairview's involvement in funding the original orphanage building at Sunshine House and later our adoption of Sokna I learned that Thailand had begun to crack down on the child sex-trade - much of it moved to Cambodia. I have had an obvious connection to Cambodia for the last 13 years and the child sex-trade has been like a thorn in my soul ever since meeting Kim in 1995.

Marty loaned me a book by Bill Hybels and told me it helped him understand me - it is about "holy discontent." Holy discontent is that thorn in the soul that just won't go away until you do something. The child sex-trade in general and that trade in Cambodia particularly is my holy discontent.

I have known God's grace in this trip as I've had the opportunity of addressing my holy discontent in an "imminent," hands-on sort of way. Will I ever do something like this again? I doubt I will ever have the opportunity to do a job like this again but still I can speakout, I can make people aware and I can support those who are on the frontlines in the battle against the sex-trade.

I need to look at this issue with God's eyes as much as possible and see the individual child and the whole of the problem - transcendent and imminent.

May our Lord bless us all as we deal with our own "holy discontents" and as we see the issues through God's own eyes.

Grant

Leaving ... but it is not over.

2008-05-18T04:31:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #14

Having spent 2 weeks in Svay Pak and seeing and experiencing evidence of the atrocities that have occured, and are still ocurring, there, and having visited the Killing Fields and Tuol Sleng, one could be forgioven for crying out with the Psalmist ...

Why, LORD, do you stand far off?

Why do you hide yourself in times of trouble?

Psalm 10:1

Is God here? Correction, there? (I am currently sitting at gate C8 in Tai Pei, Taiwan waiting for my flight back to Vancouver) As I reflect on the past 2 weeks and particularly the "colliding worlds" which are so evident throughout Phnom Penh and Svay Pak I could be forgiven, I hope, for answering 'yes.' I have a very limited knowledge of the history of Cambodia, but I have read some of the stuff surrounding the events of 1975. Did God leave Cambodia before then? After all, how could He let the Khmeer Rouge do what they did? How long has the abuse of children been going on in and around Svay Pak? Despite the incredible work of IJM in 2003, 5 years on brothels are still operating. Kids are still being violated in the most unimaginable ways. Surely, if God was present this stuff would not be tolerated one more night.

Then I hear one word resounding in my head, over and over and over again - 'grace.' It is so easy for me to judge the animals who live in Svay Pak and run these brothels, and of course it is even easier to judge the animals that pay to come in to these brothels, but if I am going to do that then am I not judging myself as well? I am drawing lines in the sand and that is a very dangerous thing to do. Am I to declare that I am better than these people and as such I don't really need a merciful loving Saviour? I would be a fool to even think this way and so if I am openly in acceptance of grace then I must believe in my heart, despite how hard it is for me to accept the fact, that God wants to offer grace and forgiveness to these people also. As such, that explains why God has not obliterated the village by clicking His fingers. But where is He?

If you have been reading our diaries over these past 2 weeks then I would urge you to read one other thing. Gary Haugen's book "Terrify No More." I think Gary has the answer to my query. He rightly suggests that I am asking the wrong question. Instead of asking "where is God?" I need to be asking "where are God's people?" Why are we asking God to act when He has given us the resources and means, and moreover the opportunities to get involved in God's in-breaking kingdom. As Gary says ...

"In such a fallen world of wickedness and pain, there is joy to be extracted by getting into the saddle with our Lord, gripping the reigns, and riding in to the battle. ... We were created for good works." (page 243)

"Not me," I hear you cry. "God is not asking me to ride in that saddle." "I don't have the skills to do it."

You are right. Kelvin, my new found buddy and the only construction person on our team, reminded me that it is not about us. He reminded me of just how "ordinary" we are. Ten ordinary people from Vancouver who God used to do His work. Perhaps God wants more and more ordinary people to realise just how ordinary they are. Are you ordinary?

I have no idea what the future beyond this trip holds for me and my wonderful wife in Vancouver. I have finished my training to be ordained in to The Presbyterian Church in Canada, and I pray that that will occur in the near future. But even more than that I pray that I will live every day as an ordinary person. I pray that I will see the world through God's eyes and act in the ways that God has prepared for me to act.

My time at Rahab's House is over but the work in Rahab's House will continue, every single day. And I know that there is a desperate need for Rahab's Houses all over this world. Perhaps we need to open our eyes and see them.

God Bless.
Marty

Counting the hours...(Kit)

2008-05-18T04:09:00.000-07:00

I am sitting in Taipei airport as we count down the hours of our seven hour layover - before we head home on our nearly eleven hour flight. I will be home at 7:30 Sunday night - but...it's already 7:00 Sunday night here.....

So we are done. It is hard to put into words what a complex experience this has been. We are all tired, and all looking forward to seeing you all again. I can guarantee you none of us will be asking for rice or noodles for a while, but having said that, I am more aware than ever of the fact that we have choices in these things, when so many people would be glad to have rice at all.

And now that we are so near to home, my words seem lame. I type some thoughts and feelings, delete them, start again. Maybe I will do what some of the others have done and just jot a few memories:

We had ten on the team, but when we arrived, we met Clayton, and we suddenly were a team of eleven. We thank God for this terrific young man who was so helpful to us. I was really impressed with his deep faith, his respect for the people of Cambodia, his sensitivity in difficult circumstances. And those Vietnamese coffees!! Clay, if you are out there, we talk about you every day, as if you were an old friend. Please keep in touch. I'm sure Marty will be writing to you.

And at home, there was Dave and the Home Team, keeping in touch, the glue that held this Home/Field Team together

"Eight strong men and two ancient nurses". And it clicked.

Yoda

My Little Sharks: wary, cautious kids who had never had a chance to learn what trust is. Did we make a blip? Will they remember that there are people who do not want to abuse them? I see their faces before me....It was so great that after the first few days they started to smile, then to laugh, then to play with us. Leaving them was hard. Their faces, some beautiful, some tough, some already beaten by life, flash before me as I walk through this glitzy airport selling stuff to the affluent.

I remember a couple of the older boys (ten years? eleven?) who followed Richard around. ("Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!"). It was great to watch them come to trust him, confused at first that there was no 'deal', then delighted that he liked them back, knew their names, kicked a soccer ball around with them, swung them on his strong arms. I was there when he said goodbye to these rough little guys. I think Richard was the best thing that has ever happened to them. The clean, healthy affection between them as they hugged good-bye was very moving.
I can still hear the kids at Place of Rescue singing, can still see them playing soccer with the guys on the team and the tuk tuk drivers, and hearing the shrieks of laughter and cheers.

The door that ate the paint

The garbage everywhere

The unrelenting red dust

The girls who returnd to Rahab's House....the delight on their faces made all the work worthwhile

The moped fuel in pop bottles being sold roadside

The shoe store....

The insane traffic

New Song..

Jeff's hospital

Riding in tuktuks, feeling the sun, wind, dust or rain on my face, and even better, riding on the back of a moto. Now that was fun!!

The yellow Cross

The market...if I stopped to seriously think about it I would probably turn and run. Tough survivors there too, like the young boys who shadowed me, made sure I did not get lost (How'd they know that I could get lost in Safeway parking lot, let alone this dank, dark twisted maze of a market?), fanned me, took me to booths to buy things, treated me like a cherished grandma (hoping for, and receiving my pathetic monetary thanks )....and who offered their bodies and sexual services to the guys on the team.

Our early morning devotional times, and our evening check ins.

The girl in the yellow dress.....

Seeing pink turn to yellow......that was so wonderful

"What did your last slave die of?" That's young Marty speakin'.

So many memories, and they are crashing in on me now, but I better go find the guys before they send out a search party.

Thanks to each of you for your prayers, your emails, your love.

Alll praise to Him.

K

Reflections on Friday (late) - Grant

2008-05-17T09:07:00.000-07:00

I stand in the bright yellow of Rahab’s House and I feel warm – not the sticky heat that is everywhere; I feel warm because I know this place has been transformed and God has used Fairview, even us, to do this great thing. I stand in the bright front room and feel warm but the smell of garbage is still wafting in from across the narrow dirt road; the screams of the kids who gather outside are getting to me (most if not all of us) a little more than they had been. The village representative who has been with us the whole time has already stolen from us and we watch him like a hawk because he’s eyeing everything.

I walk up the steep stairs for the last time. This used to be the “virgin room” – not any more. It is now a beautiful airy space that is bright with light and bright with hope. I pray with two others who had come up for the last time. It is a powerfully emotional prayer for me as we acknowledge what this space was and that it will never be that again rather it will be a place of hope – it shines with God’s hope.

I go down the stairs for the last time. I feel good.

I walk through what is now a wide open, brightly lit room and there is a sense of holiness about it. I don’t think I am over spiritualizing it to say that. So much of the work that went into making the room as it is was holy work – knocking down walls, chipping away at the bits of wall still attached to the floor, scraping off the pink paint and on and on the list goes. Holy means “set apart for a special purpose.” Rahab’s House has a sense of holiness to it now.

God has used us for His purpose and for His own joy. My joy at seeing this place in this condition must parallel God’s joy. God’s joy is likely bigger not because we have done such good work but because He sees the whole of the plan from beginning to end. God knows what will become of this place and the impact it will have on Svay Pak.

11 days earlier I cried tears of distress as I walked through the cubicles. Today tears of joy roll down my cheeks.

Our part of the work is accomplished. God had things going on in Rahab’s House long before we arrived and God will have things going on long after we’ve left. ARC is having a kitchen installed as well as a new tiled floor and movable dividing walls are being constructed. It would have been nice for us to see all of that work done but that would have just served the purposed of making us feel good. It is probably better that we don’t get to see everything this place will be because it reminds us that we are just a small part in a much bigger work that God is doing here.

I feel God’s satisfaction. I walk toward the open gate. I stand just inside for several minutes. The team decides to walk through the village to the highway to be picked up by the van there. I step out of the holiness of Rahab’s House into the evil and need of Svay Pak and walk to the road. God has a lot to do here and He’s got some very good people here in Cambodia to help him.

I reach the highway.

It is time to go home!

Grant

Last day - Tim

2008-05-17T08:51:00.000-07:00

Last day in Cambodia. Here's a random jumble of some of the things I will not forget:

on the third day at Rahab's House in the dark because the power had been cut - cleaning out the debris along the back wall of the 'kitchen' - weeping, not letting anyone see - for my own little troubles or for what had happened to kids in this miniTreblinka? - both?

treading on some poor doctor's shirt and bones at Cheung Ek killing field, exposed through the dirt in the middle of the path and still not yet put at respectful peace by his country

sitting across from the angels at ARC - and an offer I could not touch - it was Sacred

the little tiny girls of Svay Pak. Always the little girls. May the Lion protect you and heal you.

accelerated sweat

meeting rare individuals of the Kingdom, like Helen, Clayton, Marie Ens, Cheung Te, and Ratanak, the ones who are on the front line of this anti-trafficking business for the long haul, leaders God Himself has raised up

a senior army officer in a fancy SUV and wearing a contemptuous scowl, throwing his weight around by ramming a young woman's moto from behind when she had no place to move it out of the way anyway because she herself was boxed in

one beggar with horrendous injuries from a landmine (both arms, most of both legs), yet still able to perambulate

orange-clad monks who not only don't work but parasitize the rest of the population and encourage the worship of stone cows, the repetition of meaningless mantras, and much worse

a spiffy (Saudi-financed?) mosque and Islamic centre amongst the most putrid poverty of the Muslim quarter just before you arrive at Svay Pak

a free market economy on steroids and with no safety net, trying to do accelerated time travel down the 25 years they are behind other parts of Asia

portraits of a nattily dressed but weak king not held in true respect by his own people because of his fear of Cambodia's neighbors and desire to maintain his own privileged position

the much caressed elephant parked in front of his/her favourite bar and gloriously oblivious to traffic cops (sort of like everybody else)

the beauty, patience, and natural grace of the Cambodian people. This could be Eden.

other moments, from within the team, which are too private to disclose to the world

A deep thank you to Fairview and to the Lord Jesus for the privilige of being able to take these memories home.

rapping things up- Jeff

2008-05-17T06:59:00.000-07:00

Today was a final market and sight seeing day. Many of us went to the mall or the markets to get some last minute gifts for the people back at home. Martin, Kit, Grant and I went to the markets and then we went for a tour of Phnom phen. Our tuk-tuk driver took us around the city pointing out some things that we might like to see. We saw the royal palace, watt Phnom and he even showed us where he lives. We passed the hospital that Sokna was born in as well, so we took some pictures (only from the outside) and then we went back to the hotel.

After all of the shopping I began to realize that this experience, this part of my life is coming to an end. This rose a range of emotions. Since Tuesday I have wanted to just leave this place, all that we have been through I feel that I am physically and emotionally drained. Even getting royalty type treatment in the hospital I feel that being in the hospital for so long that it made me just want to be home in my own bed near things that aren’t so foreign and even just having some of the comforts of home. On the other hand I think about all the things that still need to be done in Svay Pak, and all of the people and friends that we have made and it makes me a little sad that we are going to leave. I probably wont see many or even all of them ever again.
So were coming back tomorrow and we’ll arrive Sunday evening Vancouver time. I’ll leave here with both feelings of happiness and some sadness but I think I’m really looking forward to getting home

Hope -- Toph

2008-05-17T03:55:00.005-07:00

So our time in Svay Pak is done. It is likely that I will never again visit this village, even though I would very much like to return to Cambodia. There are big issues I am still working through, however.

What did the trip achieve? The task of renovating Rahab’s House is done. The building is no longer a brothel, but a great, beautiful open space with bright yellow walls which will be a tremendous resource for the people who work there. Since the building was raided in 2003 and the girls working there liberated, the shell had remained. Though some of the girls have had the courage, tremendous courage, to return and to begin community outreach from this building, work was confined to the front room. This was a renovation that was needed, but which always fell just below the funding threshold for Aim4Asia. We were able to provide that service. All of Rahab’s House is now clean, functional, and able to be used by these women in their work: teaching, providing food, providing medical outreach, serving the community. In time, someone will live there full time, in the upstairs rooms. In a real sense our work was to provide a better platform for these people to do their ongoing work. On that level, I am confident that the trip was a success, and that we will see it as such in the future.

From the start, however, we have asked ourselves why it was necessary for us to do the work; wouldn’t hiring local workers be more cost effective? What did it mean in Svay Pak to have ten white faces there, day in day out, for something other than sex? I hope it meant something: we were seen to be giving; we were friendly; we were polite; we were asking for nothing from the village. Many of the kids, and some of the adults in the village, seemed genuinely touched by our presence. But…

The last day working was difficult. Some of the kids were especially rambunctious, even rude, and some new faces appeared, children we’d not seen before. Children were excited to have their pictures taken, but were wild, taking anything they could. Abouot two minutes before we left, one of the new children, a boy with a scratch on his chest that he bragged had been caused by a machete (this seems unlikely!), held out his hand and asked me for a dollar. So not everyone saw us as different, and though this was the only time it happened, it did sour things a bit.

In contrast, some kids showed real generosity. Paul, my wheelbarrow helper on the first day, had been given a hat by Richard as a memento, and then he offered it to me, almost immediately. Genuine generous reciprocity, even if it did miss the point of being given the hat. I encouraged Paul to keep the hat, so he could remember “Tom”.

But again, we only see the village during the day. We have no idea what goes on at night, and, the truth is, we are scared of it.

Today, Saturday, Richard and I went to visit an 11th-century temple two hours south of Phnom Penh (by Tuktuk!). It was beautiful – a wonderful reminder of the richness of the Khmer civilization that had flourished for centuries. As we drove along the roads, children waved. They waved from bicycles, from roadside storefronts, from the verandas of their shacks. But there was a politeness, a joy, a desire to try out an English “Hello”, and a look of surprise when we try responding in Khmer. Adults would also wave, as they sat in the shade in hammocks, with a child balanced on their bellies. This is what cultural contact should be like. It was truly happy, sincere, open, undemanding, fun. And it was completely unlike the encounters we have had for two weeks in Svay Pak.

Svay Pak in some ways looks like every other little Cambodian village. But it is also completely unlike every other little Cambodian village. This is a village where a gift of a soccer ball means one child runs home with his treasure, rather than it becoming a source of amusement for all the kids (I think four soccer balls were distributed, though none ever reappeared after it was initially put away. I had always thought a soccer ball like this could be a universal gift, for almost any age, anywhere in the world. Not in Svay Pak, where Yoda says (mimes) that the kids sell the balls for cigarettes.) So I ask myself, can Svay Pak change? Can the suspicion, and the hurt, and the brokenness, and the disfunction, and the corruption, and the perspectives of the West, and the disease, and the greed, and the exploitation, and the violence, and all that is wrong with this village change?

I have to believe it can. I have to believe that there is something redeemable in this village, though I admit my evidence is not strong. There have been two or three mothers with children who show affection. There are rare generous acts by the children. And, above all, there is the courage of the girls who had once been sex slaves in the brothels here, who have been rescued, and who choose to come back. Twice a week, to help the community from which they have been saved.

They see hope for this community. And because of them, so do I.

Go…Stop…Go…Stop - Grant

2008-05-17T03:37:00.000-07:00

The last few days have been days of whiplash for me – not the kind you get in your neck so you don’t have to worry. It has been a real emotional time of whiplash which has a physical and emotional impact. It was go, go, go through the first 9 days we were here and then Jeff got sick. There was the frantic effort to get him to the hospital and get him the care he needed. He began to improve immediately and I was so thankful – we were all so thankful. Though we had a team working hard in Svay Pak, my place was with my son in the hospital. So for about 50 hours the two of us were full stop. I could go out and breathe in some stifling air but I didn’t go out much because Jeff couldn’t and I wanted to be there for him in everyway I could.

When Jeff was released we rejoined the team for our reflection time – to cheers mind you – and then out for supper. And then it was full GO again. We had one more day to complete everything at Rahab’s House before we had to be done. It was a crazy day as I felt like I was moving in slow motion trying to keep up. (I will post again on my reflections of that last day.) And now it is Saturday and we have left Svay Pak behind – physically at least. Today is a day to decompress and finish shopping and do some touring of the city we’ve not been able to do.

Go…Stop…Go…Stop

It is time to go home!

Grant

Kelvin's post # 10 "Restless in Surrey"

2008-05-16T17:08:00.000-07:00

I was sitting in church one Sunday morning about six months ago going through the motions of a worship service but that was about it. I have been going to church all my life, I have sung all the songs, read the Bible, prayed, gone to bible classes, and much more. I have done all the things that you are supposed to do when you “Go to Church” but it all seemed to have become routine. I was getting restless, I could not explain it at the time but I had the sense that God wanted me to do more but I could not put my finger on it.

Now here I am in Cambodia, with an exhausted but satisfied team of dedicated Christians, most of whom I did not know three months ago. As a team we have been through a lot in the past two weeks, we have stared evil in the face in Svay Pak, Tuol Sleng, and the Killing Fields. We have seen the love of God poured out at Arc and the Rescue center. As said before by other members of the team, “Cambodia is a Country of Extremes” and God has shown us both sides of the coin.

A few months back when talking with pastor Tom at my Church I told him about going to Cambodia and I remember him telling me that I would come back a changed man. God has given me an experience so far out of my comfort zone that I don’t know if I will ever find it back!
Maybe He does not want me to find it back!

Tomorrow we get on a plane and leave this place; our part in the transformation of Rahabs House is complete. I thank God for calling me to be a part of this team and my prayer is that Rahabs House will always be a place out of the ordinary, a place that stands out in Svay Pak. A place where people can come to know Christ and a place where kids can come, feel safe and be kids.

This will be my last post and I would like to thank everyone for all their love and support over the past few weeks, we could not have done this without you.

Kelvin

still alive- Jeff

2008-05-16T07:30:00.000-07:00

Sorry for not blogging for a bit, the past couple of days have been quite the adventure. I’m sure as many of you know I was in the hospital for a couple of days. I was feeling fine until Monday night. It started with a bit of heartburn so I didn’t really pay attention to it. Paul gave me some Pepto-Bismol and I thought that was that. I was wrong.

When night hit all hell broke loose and I had probably the most terrible night of my life. I won’t share the wonderful details but I was really sick. Morning came and I was feeling same as I was in the night, so Barb stayed with me in the hotel while everyone else went to Svay Pak. When lunchtime hit I was feeling almost 100% better, until I ate something. There I was back where I was the night before. When everyone came back from Svay Pak I was getting worse and worse. The vomiting started to give me some harsh dehydration and that is when we decided that I needed to go to the hospital. We called up Clayton and asked him where we should go, he said there was a U.S run clinic but they were closed on account of it being a holiday. So we called him again and he told us he would go to the hospital and arrange things for us. While we were waiting for the arrangements to be made my dehydration started to get worse. I started to loose feeling in my hands and feet and they eventually became almost paralyzed. This is when I started to get scared. Though Clayton was on his was and he had gone to the hospital to make sure that I would get a bed and they were getting ready for my arrival.

We took a tuk-tuk to the hospital which was the fastest way to get there and they had a wheel-chair ready for me and within 10 minutes of being at the hospital, I had an I.V in me and was getting pumped full of fluids (wouldn’t get treatment like that in Vancouver). After being in the ER for a bit I was taken to my room. Clayton once again was a hero and told a bit of a fib to get me some special treatment. He said that we were working with the government at least something along those lines I don’t really remember (I was kind of sick). Anyways what Clayton said to the doctor must have been effective because when I got to my room it was nicer then any other room I have seen in Cambodia. I was nicer then any hospital room I have seen in Canada (though I haven’t spent a lot of time in hospitals in Canada). There was a flat screen TV on the wall, couch, table, sink, fridge, and I was the cleanest room I've ever seen in Cambodia.

When getting to the hospital I had no idea that I would have to be there so long. I thought I would be, go in the afternoon and get out at night. They told me when I got there that I would have to stay over night. My doctor was a Thai doctor who went by the name of Doctor Tom. On the second day he came back and told me that I would need 3 days of antibiotics to get rid of the ecoli infection that had caused this whole mess. So yesterday I was freed from the “Royal Rattanak hospital” and given some more take home antibiotics to help me finish off the treatment.

Today we went for our last day at Rahabs house. I wasn’t able to do a whole lot, but I was able to help do some painting. Part way through the day I was just feeling so tired that I had to return to the hotel early but at least I wasn’t feeling sick

Well thank you for your prayers and your support, I’m feeling much better now, not 100% but I'm getting there

Jeff

It's Just the Beginning

2008-05-16T03:56:00.000-07:00

Today was our last day at Rahab's House. We finished the work we came to do. The old, dark, evil, horrendeous building is gone and has been replaced with a big bright yellow, spacious building, where God's light is set to shine on the people of Svay Pak. Indeed it has already started.

It was very hard to leave those kids, not knowing what sort of future lay in store for them. However, I can take some comfort in the fact that we have made an impression on them and they can associate RH as a safe welcoming place, which will make it easier for Ratna, and the girls from ARC when they come to do the ministry and healthcare sessions.

Ratna came by today and we presented him with the banner. He is a friendly young man with a passion for God - and was already interacting with the kids before he left. The new Rahab's House is in good hands.

I am going to be sorry to leave this place tomorrow, a country of contrasts, a country that is still dealing with the devastation and horrors of a civil war. A country where the seeds of God's kingdom is breaking through in places like ARC and Place of Rescue and now Rahab's House. A country that 30 years ago was in the Stone Age and is now trying to deal with 21st century issues, while missing a whole generation of people my age that were wiped out. A country where evil still has a foothold, but is in God's hands.

I don't know how this experience will change me once I get home. I will be processing this for a while. I do know that God brought this team of ordinary but amazing people together for a reason. I knew from the moment that this trip was announced that I had to be here. Time will tell what the results will be.

It is finished - by Paul

2008-05-16T02:41:00.001-07:00

Today was our last day at Rahab's House... and we knew that by the 3:00 p.m. it would all have to be finished... the painting, the cleaning up, the rearranging of the little furniture that exists at the moment. What would we feel leaving a place where we toiled for ten days?

What a priveledge it has been to serve our Lord. He used ten ordinary people from Vancouver to transform an oppressive life-sucking building into a place of hope. In physical terms, here was our contribution:

Cubicle walls torn down and hauled out.

Pedophile pink paint scraped off the walls, in many places down to the concrete.

Wall footings chisseled out and filled in with concrete.

Walls filled in where cubicle walls were attached.

Ceiling and wall removed from upstairs rooms.

Kitchen removed and floor leveled.

Cistern emptied and cleaned out.

All walls painted either sunshine yellow or bright white.

Ceiling of front room painted bright white.

Rafters denailed and painted white.

Front of building scrapped and painted.

Louvres cleaned of years of dust and painted.

Upstairs door painted white with a yellow cross on both sides.

Louvre glass windows washed.

Front sliding door fixed, lubricated and painted.

Tile floors scraped, swept and mopped.

Staircase sanded and varnished.

There are probably a few things I missed, but all in all, we accomplished more than we expected. It is finished.

Well not quite. Ratana came by today. He is the young man who has been called by God to work in Svay Pak, just like the ten of us... except that he is going to be part of the next chapter of God's story. Ratana has been working with the girls who had been rescued from brothels in Svay Pak, including the building that is now Rahab's house. They have been coming out twice a week to share the love of God through teaching, medical outreach or food distribution. Until now they have only used the front room and the small space that was unoccupied by the brothel cublicles. They now have a huge area to work with, so their mission will be able to grow and evolve and spread out and shine brightly to light up all the dark and grungy recesses of this... come to think of it... NOT God forsaken village.

Leaving was hard. Our immediate work has come to a close. I will follow as best I can to what God will be doing in Svay Pak. I will wonder what became of the little children who came to play with us, but really wanted to abscond with our belongings. I will pray for the little girl who had an injury on her forehead, which Barb lovingly attended to everyday, and for her mother and sister... the only three people who seemed to love each other, and responded by bringing a small bag of fruit to Barb. Will they come to Rahab's house to learn of the love of God? I think they have already experienced some of it while we were here.

It is finished for us...

We left Svay Pak with lots of emotions still perculating inside of us. We didn't hop in the van today and drive out. Instead, we walked the road to the highway. We wanted to make sure that all the villagers saw a bunch of white middle aged guys and a couple of women walk out of there without having abused or raped any of their children or slaves, and that this would signal an end to their lifestyle and a new beginning for the village.

I'm finished here... and ready to come back home. Thank you all for sustaining us in prayer. Thank you Lord for calling us to serve you.

A Staircase to ...

2008-05-16T02:31:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #13

It is 4:30pm, Cambodia time, Friday afternoon, May 16, 2008. I have just had a shower having returned after our final day of work at Rahab's House. All the demolition, scraping, painting and cleaning is done. We are almost at the end of our mission trip and as such our blogging is coming to an end as well. So what do I want to talk about today?

That's easy - steps. The last thing I did at Rahab's House involved steps. An old steep mahogany staircase rises from the main floor to the two upper rooms. These steps, like everything in Rahab's House are a little worse for wear and they have taken a lot of abuse from all our team over the past two weeks. Everyday, up and down we have gone like yo-yos. The stairs are dirty with dust and grit, they have not seen paint in a very long time. Everything else in the place was being renewed but we didn't have a plan for the stairs. So we decided to give them a clean up. A clean up. The staircase is not the only thing in Svay Pak that needs a clean up.

As Barb began the much needed scraping and wire-brushing of the staircase and we bought the necessary varnish for the steps I began to look closer at the steps. Looking caused me to think. I was the one looking at the steps but what had they seen over the years? Last Monday when we arrived at Rahab's House and began to walk a round we all meandered in and out of the cubicles in the downstairs. Then we hiked up the steps to the upper area to find that pink shower area and that pink room. That room where young girls, correction, children were sold for the first time and depraved men had their sordid adventures, including the use of video tapes etc. The staircase in Rahab's House has seen everything and everybody. It has the dirt of everyone on its steps. As a result the steps look old, jaded, dull, in need of care and attention. The steps needed someone to love them.

Svay Pak needs someone to love them. That is a hard task to perform. In fact, God is the only one who could love this place, surely. The dirt needs removed, the scum scraped off and each step needs the tender loving care of being sanded down to its core. Only then can it be covered in a shiny new coat of grace.

And I believe He will do this. Just the way the staircase today has been transformed by one coat of varnish, God can and will redeem Svay Pak. Rahab's House is the seed that has been sown in this place and which will grow and grow and grow. These stairs have led children up to a hell-hole of iniquity like nothing we can imagine in our darkest nightmares. But now I pray that these stairs will lead child after child after child up in to the new shining rooms where they will hear about Jesus, they will worship Jesus and they will grow to love Jesus. These stairs have been redeemed, becasue Jesus decided to redeem them. I believe He is pouring out His mercy and grace on Svay Pak; a hell on earth and as such Svay Pak will become heaven on earth. I look forward to that.

I said my final goodbyes to Rahab's House today. I've been told about its past. I have witnessed some of the evidence of that past. But I have seen its present. I have watched as slowly but surely something beautiful has emerged and I believe its future looks bright. I don't know what that future holds. But I know someone who does.

Heavely Father, continue to burst forth into Svay Pak from this place. Continue to bless these people. Continue your work of varnishing these children of yours. Deal with the evil the way that you know best.

What a 2 weeks!

What a staircase!

Marty

P.S. - With regards "Marty and Me." In all seriousness it has been a joy and an honour to work alongside people of God over these past 2 weeks and in particular my new buddy Kelvin is one of the finest leaders I have ever known. You are a star in my eyes and in God's Bless you brother!

Toph's Guide to Survival in Cambodia

2008-05-15T08:35:00.000-07:00

1. Beer. There are three types of Cambodian beer, all lagers. Tiger is pronounced “tiger”, and is without taste. Anchor is pronounced “ann-chore”. Ankor, which comes in large bottles, is pronounced “anchor”. So if you want an Ankor—and you do (it’s our beer, our country)—ask for an Anchor.

2. Amok. The national dish seems to be some combination of river fish and mild curry, and is called fish amok. I have now had it in five different places, where I have been served (1) a fish pate served in a banana leaf, (2) a fish stew, with small chunks, (3) large steamed fish pieces in a brown sauce, (4) a grainy fish paste served on a bed of caramelized carrots in a lovely tin foil fan, and (5) a think stew with large chunks and full fresh “spinach” leaves (it’s not spinach, but the leaves are that size and colour), topped with yoghurt, served in a coconut. It is always served with rice. So the national dish is some kind of fish served with rice.

3. Economy. The economy runs on American dollars; everyone has them. The local currency, riel (4100r=1 USD), serves as change. Within days, your pocket is bulging with riel, and you find yourself buying newspapers, in hopes of handing over a fistful of bills.

4. Newspapers. The Cambodia Daily sells for 1200 riel, or 30 cents. Except there aren’t any cents, and the paper boy doesn’t have change for a dollar bill. The news combines local stories with international news, in English and Khmer, and has many job ads.

5. Tuktuks. They wait in clusters outside your hotel. You don’t want one, so you wave them off, and take three steps, when two more will ask if you want a ride. You wave them off and take two more steps, and are asked again, and wave them off. And so on down to the corner to buy your newspaper, whereupon a tuktuk pulls up, smiles and asks “tuktuk?”, as if he genuinely believes you haven’t been asked twenty times a minute, since your journey began. You hire him to drive you back to the hotel, just so you don’t have to feel guilty about not giving them work.

6. More on tuktuks. Tuktuks can be hired for $20 a day; they will be very pleased with this as it is more than they would otherwise make, and will take you wherever you want. They will wait for you, whatever you are doing. It turns out they may also offer to do manual labour. Apparently people haggle with tuktuk drivers; I find this hard to believe, the prices are so low…a buck to go here, two to go there. It’s clear I am overpaying, but it’s still less than bus fare. Word has got around about our group. When we ask a tuktuk driver how much to go somewhere, he just smiles and says “whatever you want to pay”.

7. Toiletries. When travelling, one is sometimes caught with insufficent toiletries. No problem; buy a doughnut. The local market is giving out free tubes of Pepsodent toothpaste with almost every purchase.

8. DVDs. The market sells a season of a tv show for five or six bucks, movies for two bucks. Movies that came out last week. Movies that will be coming out next June. Anthologies offer 28 Sandra Bullock movies, on a single disk. I don’t think she has made that many movies.

9. Clothing. When traveling, one is sometimes caught with insufficient amounts of clothing. No problem; buy paint. Canisters of white paint come with a t-shirt wrapped in a plastic bag, floating on the top. The paint has to drip off for a few hours before you can open the bag, and you have to remember to take off your paint gloves when you do. The t-shirt may preserve a slight smell of emulsifier.

My bud Marty - by Kelvin and Paul

2008-05-15T08:00:00.001-07:00

The story is inspired by the stories Kelvin used to make up for his two girls back home. When they were a lot younger he used to create “Ruff Stories” every night just before they went to bed. Ruff was a cute little brown dog whose name was Ruff because he would always say “ruff ruff”. Ruff always had run-ins with the milkman, which made for pretty good stories which the girls loved. Here we don’t have a little dog and we don’t have a milkman, we only have Marty and Me.

Story by Kelvin. Illustrations by Paul

Warning: The names in this story have not been changed to protect the innocent. We're sorry Heather, we couldn’t resist.

Marty, it takes a special person to motivate us to produce this work. Unfortunately, the copywrite laws will preclude you from profiting from this story. Sorry. Hope you enjoy it.

Marty and Me

There once was a man named Marty, He is a nice man, I like Marty.

Marty is married to a lady named Heather, Heather is a nice lady, I like Heather.

Marty likes to talk so he decided he should be a minister, that way everyone has to listen to him. I like the way Marty talks. I would listen to Marty.

One day Marty decided to go to Cambodia, I like Marty. He is fun to be with so I went too. I like to be with Marty.

Marty is going to have to work hard in Cambodia so he had to learn how. I think he has learned really good. Marty like to hit walls with a big hammer, it takes him lots of hits but the walls do fall down. I like the way Marty swings the big hammer.

Marty is good at painting. Sometimes there is more paint on Marty than the wall but that’s okay, I think it makes Marty look better. I like the way Marty paints.

After work Marty is all dirty, I don’t like being with Marty when he is all dirty and stinky.
When dinner comes Marty is all clean again, I like going to dinner with Marty.

Marty eats a lot of funny things, I don’t like bangers and mash, but Marty does, he can have them all.

Marty likes to be in pictures, especially my pictures. Marty usually has a funny look on his face in my pictures. Somehow I have lots of pictures of Marty but that’s okay, I like Marty and we have become best buds.

P.S. Marty, looking at spending more time with you and Heather once back in Canada.

Kelvin and Paul

Fun and Games - and then Reality Hits Hard!

2008-05-15T07:24:00.000-07:00

Today was our second to last day at Rahab's House. It was very quiet when we arrived. No kids, no Yoda to greet us, no Vietnamese coffee waiting for us, and the big iron gate was locked.
It was the day after the king's birthday celebration and the last day of a 3-day holiday - so everyone was probably sleeping in. I don't want to think about why the kids were sleeping in while there were a lot of adults up and about their business.
Toph says he doesn't want to think that everyone in this village is involved in the sex trade - however I am not so optimistic. There is no sign of any other kind of commerce in this place - except for one recycling home - so I can't see how they are not involved - even if it by complacency alone - they are still involved.
I have seen only two parents who seem to care about their kids. One is the mother of Barb's Little Miss Sunshine, and the other is a father who has shown up with his infant son in his arms. (this is very rare in Cambodia - that a father would take care of his children). The only other interaction that I have seen is grown ups yelling at or dragging away or smacking the kids.

We get started working. Kelvin and I are scraping the outside today. We are on the upstairs balcony - and Tim and the two Cambodians from ARC are scraping and painting the facade above with a dodgy extension ladder and a harness. It is amazing watching these guys work, they take risks that would not be allowed in Canada.
It is very hot work on that balcony which gives Kelvin and I plenty of water breaks.

Gradually the kids start to come around - and I spend my breaks playing with them instead of resting. My little buddy Ng is there and when I pull out my camera, he wants to have a go at taking some pictures. All the kids are fascinated at the images that they see in the camera, and he has fun taking pictues of the other kids - and me.
In all there must have been about 25 - 30 different kids there. We played a little soccer, some were trying to run me down with there bikes (but would swerve away at the last minute). Lots of hand clapping, counting, rough-housing, swinging off my arms. They all seemed to be enjoying themselves. I know in the back of my mind that they are 'sharks' and are always on the look-out for some advantage. But I would like to think that they are really having fun and thats they will remember this group of 10 people who played with them and did not ask for anything except for a smile and a laugh.

Unlike the white guy at the end of the day who showed up on his moto, sat and had a drink two doors down from RH - and then drove off on his moto into the heart of the village. He appeared to have no shame nor did he try to disquise what he was there for. Even with 9 other white people, who obviously did not belong there watching his every move, taking pictures. He was smiling and even said "Hello" as he drove past on his way into the village. My heart sunk at the realization of what was about to happen. I can only pray that it is not one of the beautiful smiling kids that I see each day here.
Although, I know that in this village, everyone is for sale.

Transformation, the hospital and thanks - Grant

2008-05-15T07:17:00.000-07:00

It has been a couple of days since I was last able to blog. Through much of Monday night Jeff was pretty sick. We got the antibiotics into him in the morning and Barb (one of our nurses) very graciously said she’d stay with him for the day allowing me not to worry about Jeff and continue to help with the work.

Tuesday was a good and busy day with getting a lot accomplished including a first coat of paint on the main walls. I did the last of the scraping and as good as that work was – to remove the pink paint – the scraping was getting a little old and I wasn’t sad to see the last of it. I worked on painting the back wall (kitchen) white and moved on to a couple of other walls that needed to be white. Rahab’s House was again transforming. The first transformation was the removal of the walls and with them the cubicles of the brothel. The second transformation was with the removal of the pink paint. The third transformation was painting the walls – white on the ends and yellow on the sides with white on the bottom sides of the rafters as well to add further light to the space.

Just after lunch I called Jeff to see how he was doing and he seemed to be improving. I rested easier and carried on with my work. By the time we got back to the hotel Jeff had taken a bad turn and was even sicker than he had been and he was very quickly dehydrating. Barb and Kit agreed that we needed to get him to a clinic. Clay had recommended a particular clinic that had American doctors. We called to arrange to get Jeff in. We were reminded that Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday were holidays in Cambodia to celebrate the king’s birthday. The only doctor on call was Khmer which made his ability to communicate in English a question mark. I called Clay not knowing what to do next.

Cambodia is mostly years – at points decades – behind the West as far as medical care goes so one must take care in where to go. It is also not a matter of just calling an ambulance – you are on your own. Clay gave me the name of another hospital and the phone number and told me he was on his way to the hotel to help. I called but got a recorded message that the number was not in service. Worry was really setting in now. Jeff’s dehydration was way passed anything I’d experienced myself. Clay called again and said that he’d just stopped into a hospital – The Royal Ratanak Hospital – and that he was on his way and would be at the hotel in 10 minutes. The Royal Ratanak Hospital – somehow that just seemed very appropriate. I was able to tell Jeff and Barb and Kit that Clay was on his way. When he arrived he called and told me that he’d arranged a tuktuk to get us to the hospital. I had been thinking about a taxi – like a real car – but the tuktuk would be able to move through the heavy Phnom Penh traffic much more nimbly. I had to help Jeff out of the room and down the elevator. When the hotel staff saw Jeff and me half carrying them they practically jumped over the desk in their concern.

Kit had Jeff on the other side. Paul was on the outside steps and immediately jumped up to take Kit’s place. We lifted Jeff into the tuktuk which had just become an ambulance. Clayton told the tuktuk drive, “I drive fast and go beep beep all the time. You follow me and drive fast.” We sped through the streets with our driver keeping pace with Clay’s moto. The rain started pouring. The driver made to put down the canvas but we told him just to drive. We arrived at the hospital which opened only a month ago and wants to be known as the best hospital in Cambodia. A security guard arrived with a wheelchair and a woman at the desk approached to guide us directly into an emergency room. Two nurses were immediately helping Jeff under the watchful care of Barb and Kit. I was called to go out and fill out the necessary forms which I did. Clay arrived after parking his moto. When I turned in the forms he told me to go ahead back into see Jeff and he would collect Jeff’s passport when it was ready.

In the time it had taken to fill out the forms the doctor had come and gone and an IV had been started by the head nurse. We were then whisked up to Jeff’s room. I’ve been in a lot of Cambodian hospitals to see the facilities and to visit with the people but I’d never seen a hospital like this in Cambodia – or even in Canada. The care has been superb. Even so I have to remind myself that only about 1 or 2% of Cambodians would be able to come to this hospital.

Jeff quickly improved with the IV fluids and antibiotics. He got a bad infection from something he’d eaten – and he ate with all of us so it was by God’s grace that we weren’t all like this. I stayed the night in his room. Barb was going to sleep down in the lobby to be close but I insisted she go back to the hotel with Marty and Kit who’d come to visit in the evening.

Jeff was much better on Wednesday and I half expected him to be released but the doctor wanted to keep him through the antibiotic treatment and until his systems were working properly. So I am sitting and writing this on Wednesday evening after Jeff and I had a very quiet day. I’ll be staying with them again tonight and we should be heading back to the hotel Thursday.

I want to publicly thank Barb and Kit for their amazing care. Barb who stayed with Jeff throughout the day and who first said Jeff needed medical care and who had to be told to go back to the hospital. And Kit who upon arriving back at the hotel was up to our room in a shot where she and Barb provided such loving care to Jeff and who both accompanied us to the hospital.

I also want to thank Clayton who truly is his brother’s keeper. Clayton has shown his quality as a disciple of Jesus in many ways went way beyond the call to make sure we got the care we needed. I will forever be in you debt Clay. We all love you and are so thankful that God has called you to work with ARC.

I’m off to another night on the couch – and I’m not even in trouble.

A very thankful Grant.

Cockroaches -- Toph

2008-05-15T04:01:00.000-07:00

I do not want to believe everyone in Svay Pak is involved in the sex trade.

This is what we were told before we arrived, and I thought it an exaggeration. It is what we’ve been told here, that any child has a price. But some people, surely, just live in the village.

When we drive in every morning, yes we get fierce stares from the teenagers playing at the outdoor pool table, but the hula-hooping granny doing her exercises in her single-chair beauty salon seems oblivious to us. When we say good morning in Khmer to the woman across the street from whom we buy Vietnamese coffees, she smiles and seems impressed that we make an effort at their language, even if the effort really is minimal.

Some, certainly. Most, possibly, especially if we include indirect participation, such as selling condoms. But all?

I don’t want that to be true.

The demographics of the children have begun to change. Yesterday (Wednesday), while I was painting the ceiling of the front room, balanced on a wooden table, seventeen children were watching. Fifteen were boys. We have been told two of them are twins. Other sibling relationships are also clear. What is the future of these guys? Are they all trapped by the poverty of Svay Pak? Might some of them leave and live in other dirt-road villages, villages without the sex trade?

This afternoon, I see my first white face in Svay Pak other than our team. He is about six feet tall (I am six feet tall), with a shaved head (I have a shaved head), heavy set (I am sixty pounds lighter than him, probably) and he is riding a motorcycle. He pulls up three doors down from Rahab’s House, and orders a drink. He sits, enjoying it on the patio, while we have our entourage around us. The white face is smiling at the scene, behind his sunglasses.

My brain screams.

What I am looking at and what he is looking at are not the same things. I see hope, and the possibility of happiness, even if it is transitory. He sees his next conquest (and yes, I am making assumptions here).

He is confident, comfortable. He has been here before. After his drink he drives across the vacant lot across from us, nodding hello to a team of eight white people covered in paint, and on into the backroads of Svay Pak. He feels absolutely no shame in being seen here.

The brothel we have destroyed was hideous. It was unsanitary, even leaving aside the years of accumulated dust and spider webs. And we have only seen it during the daytime. At night, Svay Pak becomes somewhere else. Somewhere I don’t want to be. Somewhere much less safe. So in the daytime, I see the light. In the afternoon and at night (and it seems the transition takes place between 2 and 3), the cockroaches come out. And they look very much like me.

I don’t want to believe everyone in Svay Pak is involved in the sex trade.

Almost done...(Kit and Barb)

2008-05-15T03:08:00.000-07:00

Well....it has been an interesting few days. We will let Jeff tell you of his experience, and knowing Jeff, he will probably play it down and make it humourous, but believe me, Jeff is one courageous guy. And the next time you or someone you love has to make an emergency trip to hospital via ambulance - with prepared paramedics and sirens and traffic moving over to give the ambulance priority, think of Jeff heading out to a hospital across this huge insane city in pouring pouring pouring rain in a tuktuk - essentially a horse and (covered) buggy, with a moped replacing the horse.

So this blog is from Barb and me. Barb and Toph have headed to the museum, and she has a ton of stuff to do tonight as she arranges our medication kit to donate to Rahab's House.

Little Miss Sunshine, the little girl with the facial injury who broke/warmed Barb's heart, has returned every day with her young mom (and siblings) to show Barb her injury. (We think she fell off a moped). We figure the mom is treating the injury with cayenne or something, but every day Barb cleans off all this stuff and treats it with Polysporin (we should have bought shares in the stuff). It's Barb they want to see - no one else will do.

Barb and I have both stayed pretty healthy, but we have both been extremely careful with what we eat. And I mean 'extremely' - we have happily subsisted on French bread and tea for breakfast, noodles with vegies for lunch, and rice with vegies for nearly every dinner. Barb has eaten some chicken. Basically we have not eaten meat, dairy or salad since we arrived. But for a couple of old girls, we have a lot of energy, so this diet is not killing us. I am being bitten to death by flying critters - I never see them, but I sure see the results of their visits on my arms and legs.

Today I painted walls (both roller and brush), spray-painted the metal grid security gate, hammered a few nails, swept stuff (one could sweep forever here), played a zillion games of the clapping game with my little sharks, but now I have them playing it with each other, and counting aloud in English as they do so. We do have a lot of fun. I am amazed at how much I can communicate with them when I know about three words of their language. Barb scraped and swept and painted, and performed an amzing feat with those stairs - got them looking decent again. Now Marty is staining the staircase (he will do the steps themselves after we have completely finished The Yellow Room tomorrow. What he has done looks gorgeous!

These guys are amazing. They work incredibly hard, but keep their good humour, and get up and do it again the next day. We had no idea how hard the work would be, but 'the guys' rose to the task. . And they are all such decent men of God: devout, caring, faithful. They speak of their families with love and respect. Barb and I are so proud to be a part of this team.

But the days are short. We get up at some unspeakable hour (0530 actually), work hard, and we are all exhausted shortly after dinner.

As I sit here , in the lobby, I think the rest of the guys are upstairs in their rooms blogging. It is yet another rainstorm. I remember them from Africa, and I quite like them. The rain is warm and it plummets down with huge raindrops. And suddeny - after everything in sight is completely drenched - it's over. Gone.

This is the first time I have had the opportunity to blog in the afternoon, the first time therefore, that I have hd the energy to actually write anything. Most nights my face is falling on the keyboard, and sometimes I have actually fallen asleep here as I type. (I hope the same thing does not happen to you as you read it). I would love to continue, but I am five minutes away from our evening 'check-in' and I need to get upstairs.
Thanks for your prayers and your emails. They have brought me peace and pleasure. They have really meant so much, please know that. I know Barb would say the same.

Have to go, but know this comes with love.
Kit and Barb

Room 9

2008-05-15T01:21:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #12

Yesterday was a transformational day at Rahab's House. The walls got there first coat of yellow and just like that the place became a whole new buidling. Well, almost.

This morning I walked in and the place looked fantastic - almost.

OK, so what am I getting at? Last Monday Rahab's House had 9 small cubicle rooms, 2 cistern rooms, a front room where 'deals' where made and a kitchen. 3 days later the majority of that had been removed, leaving only the two cistern rooms and "room 9."

Room 9 is still standing. It is going to be a 'museum' room. As such we haven't touched it. It is about 6 feet square with a wooden bed still in it and an old light fixture hanging on one wall. Remnants of posters and pictures are still attached to the disgusting pink paint and there are a few scribblings on the wall. One of which is the face of a little girl. Who is she I wonder?

Everything else around 'room 9' is newly painted. It doesn't resemble what it once was at all. But 'room 9' does! I stood gazing in to that room this morning and all I could think about was, how on earth anybody would want to have sex in that room, let alone pay for it?

One of the things that I have discovered whilst being here is that seeing these places and the village of Svay Pak on photographs is nothing compared to experiencing it for yourself. As such my friends and family back home will never really get a true reality of the horror of 'room 9.' So I want you to imagine a derelict house which has a small room that no-one has entered for a long time. The place smells and is dimly lit, if at all. The bed sheets on the bed in the room have not been washed for a considerable time and so you need to get that smell of fabric softener out of your noses and replace it with filthy dirty moldy clothes. Oh, and most importantly, the walls are painted pink! Now, in your wildest imagination, would you take your loved one in to that room for anything let alone to become one flesh?

So the people that have gone in to 'room 9' must be very weird people? They must be wired differently from me? They must be, and moreover look like, evil? Right? Well, in the past 2 weeks we have seen a few folks, both in Svay Pak and in our hotel lobby that, the chances are, they are not simply sightseeing. Today, one such person was sitting two doors up from Rahab's House, smiling, and then he rode of, down one of the little alleys in the village, on his motto. I wonder where he was going? And, all these guys look just like me. (Not literally, but you know what I mean.)

They don't look any different from me. I could be mistaken as one of these people. That's why, in preparation for this mission, our team discussed a lot about how to act in the eyes of the locals here to ensure that we can never be mistaken as being on the search for anything except some good food and a cold beer.

So what is different then? I need someone to help me here. I have read the stories of Hitler and WWII. I know a little, and have lived a little of the history of my own country, Northern Ireland. But I still don't understand the evil in these people. What makes someone do something deprived, inhumane, manipulative, immoral, wicked? What makes someone rob a child of their innocence for 'pleasure' in 'room 9?'

Whatever 'it' is - 'it' happens. Rahab's House and other places are evidence of that. But Rahab's House is more. Rahab's House is evidence that evil does not have the victory. 'Room 9' is surrounded by new life, the glow of God's grace and moreover love. 'Room 9' is nothing more than a museum. It is looking back, but Rahab's House is looking forward and by God's grace, the future of Svay Pak will not include 'room 9s' anymore.

May it be so Lord, may it be so.

Marty

Deja Vu

2008-05-14T16:14:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #11

When two worlds collide.

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

No – you are not having “déjà vu.” I posted a few days ago and started with this same question. For the past two nights after supper I have packed up a wee goodie bag of clothes etc to go and visit Jeff (and Grant) at the hospital. Jeff is doing really well and hopefully he will get a chance to post later today to bring everyone up to date on what he thinks about Cambodian food and healthcare. Anyways, back to what I wanted to say, and these two worlds.

Yesterday I painted, and painted, and painted and every now and again I would have to take a water break. Then I would stand and look out at the garbage heap. I can’t get that image out of my head. Svay Pak is, to put it bluntly, not somewhere you would ever desire to go. I completed my days work and jumped in the van to come back to the hotel and everyone on the team does a mini reflection on their day: mainly their interaction with the kids and the work. There are some highlights but mainly disappointment that once again there seems to be such a huge divide between our two worlds. I am sweaty, dirty and as my father often pointed out to me, I look as if I have more paint on me than the walls I’ve been painting all day long. So I need a shower. It is relatively hot. I use Fructus on my hair, I shave, and I just love shower gel. I am beginning to transform. The smell is being washed away. The grim is gone. I dry off and for my final touch I spray some deodorant, which Richard hates!

Now I am ready to go to the hospital to visit Jeff. I have moved from one world into the next. Svay Pak to the Royal Ratanak Hospital for affluent people. (That is literally how the place is advertised on the Web) I don’t want to steal Jeff’s thunder so I will leave him to describe the place etc but there he lies under his really comfy duvet and his PJs make him look like he’s about to jump out of bed and offer to take me on at judo. Can you picture Jeff yet?

Anyways, the contrast between my day in Svay Pak and my night visit to Jeff is unbelievable. In Svay Pak every kid is vulnerable to vultures with money. At the hospital Jeff lies in supreme comfort, in a room that is probably nicer than a lot of the places we really do live. What is going on in this city? (Don’t get me wrong here – I am not condemning Jeff for being in this hospital. In fact our team all believe that this hospital is an answer to a specific prayer request that we had.) However, I am left considering these two worlds. The two worlds that every single one of us sees and encounters every day.

Two worlds where poverty is suffering and rich is allfuent. Two worlds where evil is manipulating and controlling, and the kingdom of God is freeing and life fulfilling.

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

What about you?

Marty

Wednesday - and lots still to do (Kit)

2008-05-14T08:35:00.000-07:00

Yesterday Kelvin asked me if I would paint the door upstairs in what was formerly (!) the hideous Pink Room. I raced upstairs and painted the door. White. Nice, cheap, crummy white paint. The paint looked beautiful ...for about five minutes...and then the old colour started seeping through. It looked dreadful. SoI painted the entire door again. And again. And again. And again. When it had about half an inch of white paint on it (I exaggerate) it finally began to look reasonably presentable. But I painted it again today. And again. And again. I also did a little trim on it - we all love it (the idea re the trim that is, not my excessive painting). I think it was Kelvin's idea. We'll send you a picture of it soon.
I did some other painting. If you can imagine ME, who practically faints 12" off the ground, and falls and breaks bones (I think I am up to six now) on a fairly regular basis, at the top of a very steep staircase painting the walls and shelves around me - and loving every minute of it..... (Don't believe a word of this; I was painting with one hand and hanging on for dear life with the other).

I am completely wiped, but I am so glad to be here, and I am not discouraged. I am convinced that God knows exactly what he is doing here, and though I will not be around to see the next chapter I am positive that our work is not in vain. I do think that this work is but a speck in the Big Picture of child abuse, hunger and human trafficking... but I am at home with Speck Work. No one has ever asked me to be involved in moving mountains. And just knowing that the former brothel we obliterated is gone forever is extremely satisfying.

The Little Sharks were out in full force today, and there are a couple I am becoming fond of. We play this inane hand clapping game that I sort of made up on the spot (couldn't recall the way we played it , um, fifty years ago). , and we count in English as we do it. The kids are indefatigable. If they are not racing after Tim or Toph or Richard ( "Tom!" "Tom! " "Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!" "Tom!" for what seems like hours) they are fighting (screeching, slapping, kicking, yelling, shoving) over who gets to be next to slap their hands into mine. The little 'girl in the yellow dress' now approaches me, smiles, counts and plays with me....but her eyes still look disturbingly old. And those eys are usually fixed on our ice chest filled with Coke.

It occurred to me today, that I do not see many people my age, and I assume that this was the generation that was obliterated by the Khmer Rouge. In a country ravaged by war, genocide, and a huge lack of teachers, doctors, philosophers, etc (all slaughtered) this generation slows down to survive, so any untaught, untreated, uncared for. And the Little Sharks of Svay Pak wait in the wings, world weary, wary, waiting to be used, abused, or to get rich.... Maybe tonight.

Kit

Stains - by Paul

2008-05-14T07:46:00.000-07:00

When we walked into Rahab’s House today, we were a bit disappointed that some of the painting we did yesterday didn’t quite survive that afternoon’s rainfall. Rahab’s House needs a new roof. The old one was repaired, but there are still far too many places where the rain leaks through. The back room with the half cemented shut door was brilliantly white yesterday… and today some of the paint had washed off. A few more places on the side walls also had rivulets of water and washed off paint running down them. And my beautifully painted white rafters… had water stains showing though the first coat.

For all of you who have tried hiding a water stain with regular latex (water based) paint, you will know that it just does not work. No matter how many coats of paint you apply, the stain will somehow work its way into the next coat. Maybe after sixty-four coats, you may finally hide it, but then you have one thickly painted surface… which often is not the look you are going for.

So fruitlessly we applied a second coat of white paint to the undersides of all the rafters. I was wondering why I was wasting my time doing this, as no sooner had I run over the length of wood with my roller that it looked as if I hadn’t even applied any paint. Actually, that is not quite true, the unstained sections looked much whiter… which meant that the contrast between the brownish wood stain and the white paint was much more pronounced.

So I took a break from the work and went outside to interact with the children. We have all noticed that Svay Pak is a strange little village. In our visit to Marie Ens’ Place of Rescue, we noticed that when we turned off the main highway onto the dirt road, the inhabitants along the way were smiling and waiving to us in response to our smiles and waves.

For the past eight days, with only a couple of villagers, we have not been afforded one smile or wave by the adult population. I have come to the conclusion that this is because this village has a serious absence of love. We can see that in the hateful stares and unwelcoming looks. We can see that by the way the parents treat their children, screaming them and hitting them. We know this because the village has resolutely held on to its culture of enslaving children for paid rape despite hundreds of raids by the police since 2003.

We know that renovating an old brothel will not change this village. We could do a lot to pretty up the village, but the stains will still show through, because it is the wetness inside the wood that is the problem. Only God’s unconditional love will be able to break through the calloused hearts of the villagers and change them from the inside so they will truly love God and their neighbours… and repent from their evil ways.

I know that I won’t see that miracle while I am here, however I am confident that it will happen, and glad that I was able to be part of his story her in Svay Pak.

On the lighter side of life, on Toph’s suggestion, he and I took a tuktuk to find a restaurant more than one block from our hotel. It is the 55th birthday celebration of the King today, so our voyage took us by the Royal Palace to a restaurant on the waterfront. We had just taken our first sips of beer when the fireworks started. After a fine plate of Fish Amok, we took a brisk walk back to the hotel, meandering through tens of thousands of Cambodians, all out for the evening. I was thinking that this would have been a wonderfully romantic date if Karen were here with me. Maybe next time.

As I head off to bed, I think of Kelvin, who will soon complete his last Bronze Cross swim class and Megan who is preparing for her ballet recitals this weekend. Hope you both enjoy the experience. Karen, hope you are surviving this hectic week without me. I love you all.

Paint-Soccer-Paint-Soccer-Paint-Paint-Paint

2008-05-14T06:31:00.000-07:00

We left for Rahab's House this morning, two players down. The Wilson boys were AWOL.
There are only three days left to finish what we started, so we were a little anxious. As we disembarked the van, little Ng was there as usual. He gave me a big hug and helped us in with our bags.
The only job that was required of us today was to paint, paint, paint. Lots of painting to do.
After our opening prayer we started in to our jobs (which was to paint).
I gave a soccerball to NG while finishing my coffee and kicked a few with him, then started in on the painting.
Don't get me wrong - I love to paint - but I found myself drawn outside after about1/2 hr, to kick the ball around again. This something you don't see at all in Svay Pak, is kids playing games on the street. You do see them hanging out on the street, around the storefronts, some riding their bikes down the muddy path.
One reason may be the adults. The soccer ball yesterday disappeared into the home of the woman next door to RH. I am assuming she took the ball because she didn't want the kids playing in front of her house. She would not give the ball back - even to me. She just kept shouting "No! No! No!"
This is a very strange place. Most of the kids seem to be afraid of the adults.

Today, I'm not sure what happened to the ball. After about 7 or 8 of us were kicking the ball back and forth, I went back to do more painting. Next time I went out the ball had disappeared again and this time no one would say where it went. Not sure if one of the kids is hoarding the ball as his own, or if one of the adults took it again. But no one would say.

Again this is a very strange place.

So I went back to my painting.

Kelvins post #9 "Changes"

2008-05-14T06:30:00.000-07:00

The team worked well today despite being with out Jeff and Grant. I know for myself I kept thinking how much they must be longing to be working with the team. I was off yesterday with a milder case of what Jeff has and I felt rotten, I can't imagine how bad he felt. I was very excited to be feeling good this morning(14 hours of sleep really helps) and to be able to get back at it. We got lots done today and RH is looking fantastic. Before leaving this afternoon I asked Josh, a young man who is involved in the planning of RH, if this is turning out as expected. He turned to me and told me that this is more then he had ever imagined.
I also managed to talk with a local man who is involved with ARC who was helping us today. He had just been talking with an elderly gentleman who lives in Svay Pak and I asked him what the locals think about all this. He said the locals are jealous about what we are doing. When he elabourated he said that they see us coming in with lots of money and changing things, changes that may effect their buisness and they don't like it. They are happy that we are making a school that will be free and a place where free medical clinics will take place but they don't want the Christians. Christians and a child sex slave industry don't mix and they are worried for their money. I am glad that they are worried because it means that RH is already making an impact and it's not even finished yet.

Kelvin

Run the race

2008-05-13T16:59:00.001-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #10

I woke on Tuesday morning feeling really energised and ready to go to Svay Pak. As usual the team gathered made their way to Grant and Jeff’s room, for morning devotions, but discovered a note telling us to go to Kit and Barb’s room. I presumed Jeff was sick since he was feeling unwell the night before. So down to the 2nd floor we went to discover that Kelvin was not feeling to hot either. (Grant looked exhausted from being up all night looking after Jeff.) Both J&K remained in the hotel and Barb stayed to look after them. I felt fine but every time I go to the bathroom, every time I eat something, I am wondering “is it me next?” Am I the next one to drop with a GI problem? Is the work we are doing in Svay Pak so profound that the devil is trying everything to disrupt this work and frustrate us? If anybody else gets sick will we be able to finish what we have started? Come on Marty – where is your faith? God has brought us this far, so just keep plodding along in that race. Kit reminded us a few days ago of Hebrews 11. (For those of you at Fairview etc who know her, I know this will come as a shock that Kit has referred to Hebrews 11 on this trip) Our task in this project, indeed in life, is to keep our focus on Jesus and run the race. Just keep going. So, we did just that. Off to Svay Pak we went. A tonne of paint later, we returned back to the hotel. Rahab’s House is transforming. The yeast is working. Richard has already spoken of the little boy who came and stood with us in our prayer circle. The Vietnamese pastor who is working in Svay Pak and maybe will be based out of Rahab’s House looked so excited by the place yesterday when he dropped by. The building it self, even though we have a ways to go before Friday, already has so much life and warmth in it, rather than the decay and stench of death from last Monday. Yes Lord. No matter what, You have claimed this place for yourself.

Last night was our last night with Clay. I’ve spoken of the angels I have met on this trip. Well, guess what? Clay is another one. I really don’t know where to begin to describe this chap. Clay has such a love for Jesus, a wisdom and maturity of Cambodia, a compassion for justice and righteousness, a tenderness for children, that it will not come as a surprise that a few of us have joked with him (even though we are not really joking) that we have a few people we would like him to meet in Vancouver. He is a great man of God and has inspired me and the whole team over these past two weeks. I wish him every God’s blessing as he continues his work in Rahab’s House and beyond in Cambodia. God bless you Clay, and may you continue to be an incredible blessing to others.

Just Another Day in Svay Pak - NOT

2008-05-13T07:18:00.000-07:00

I have seen poverty stricken places before - but nothing like this place. Most people will show you some sort of kindness where it be a smile or a 'Hello' - but in Svay Pak there is nothing like that at all. When our big white van with 10 white people drive through, it hardly causes a ripple. They know we are there, but the suspicion and animosity and indifference is obvious. Some of the stares are downright hostile as we drive by on the little dirt track off the main road into the village.

And yet, with only 3 days to go, I am starting to feel that I am really going to miss this place when we do leave. I couldn't wait to get back to RH after our weekend break.

It's because of the kids. They are like everybody else in the village - out for what they can get. They are in survival mode - just trying to survive in a place that uses children for their own evil purposes. They are just a product to the adults that abuse, hit , scream, or ignore them.

One of the things that they are 'out' to get - is a little love. They aren't quite as jaded as the adults yet. So I see a bit of hope. So I show them kindness. I show them some patience. I give them some attention and play with them. They call me 'Tom' because they can't say Rick (it comes out Lick) - so since tom means 'big' in Khymer - it fits.

Today was a breakthrough of sorts. As we got out of the van this morning, a boy who has been coming every day was waiting for us. He jumped up into my arms and gave me a big hug. I was a little overwhelmed and embarassed, but touched. Ng followed us into the building and as we were getting our instructions for the day, he reached up and took hold of Tim's and my hands. But the most suprising thing was during our prayer before we start, Ng joined the prayer circle and stood qietly holding Kit's hand.

I really believe that RH is going to be the catalyst for change in Svay Pak - and the children are where it will start. I see hope in their eyes and a future for their lives.

We said good bye to Clayton tonight who was our representative from ARC. He is leaving tomorrow for the US to visit home and do a fund-raising tour. Clay is an amazing young man of God! He is so knowlegeable and obviously loves Cambodia. We are going to miss him - he was a big help and really mucked in with the rest of us to get the job done - as well as being a great guy to talk to. Hopefully we can get Clay up to Vancouver sometime soon.

Day 10 - Tim

2008-05-13T02:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday morning I had the exquisite satisfaction of smashing to splinters the beds of our former brothel. They are beds of duplicity, betrayal, unutterable defilement, violence, and spiritual oblivion. Beds of child sacrifice. Beds of Hell. I have never handled such filthy and disgusting objects in my life. I was sweating a light rain onto them as I worked - a higher rate of sweat than I've ever experienced. Yet I felt driven, at high energy, like a fanatic. I would have burned all these beds with gasoline in the middle of the street at high noon, and forced everyone in Svay Pak to watch (like the local Germans whom the allies forced to bury the Jewish dead at Dachau), had that been thought wise. So I smashed them instead. As a forester, I think I was unconsciously ashamed that trees had been used to make beds for this purpose.
And then I remembered another tree, 2000 years ago, outside Jerusalem, that had been used for an unimaginable Sacrifice. And things began, once more, to make a little sense.

Pray again tonight that the Lion would protect the little ones of Svay Pak from the predators hunting them.

Redeeming the Land - by Paul

2008-05-13T01:45:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting on the steps of our hotel today. Having spent the day inside Rahab's House, and getting tired of the four walls of our room and the hotel lobby, I decided to blog with a view. It was cloudy with an occasional small drop of rain until five minutes ago when he heavens opened with a clap of thunder and a deluge of rain. Right on time... 4:00 pm plus or minus 20 minutes.

The tuktuk drivers quickly dropped down the walls of their tuktuks and dashed inside. My friend Mr. Black is waving to us in this picture. Unfortunately, the rain had slowed to a shower in the time it took me to rush up to my room to get my camera. Such is the weather here in Cambodia just before the monsoon season starts.

After yesterday's day of pulling nails from the rafters, a team of us proceeded to dust down the wood and the wall in preparation for the big paint down. The upstairs room is looking so good and can't wait to slap on the paint on the main floor to see the next step in the transformation. By the end of the day, we had most of the rafters painted with the first coat of white pain, and all the previously hideous pink walls covered in white (our base coat to make the sunshine yellow much brighter). I stood in amazement, looking at what was an oppressive and dark interior with all the lights on just a week ago, and seeing a room that was open and inviting with only the ambient sunlight and half the fluorescent lights on.

Back in 1999 when our worshiping community started our first project in Cambodia as part of our 100th year anniversary, we called it "Redeeming the Land". For a long while I didn't fully understand the power and beauty of the work "Redeem" or "Redemption" - to take something that is evil and turn it into something that is good. Only when I saw first hand the destruction that the Khmer Rouge had brough on its own people, and the near total absence of social care from the government, did I understand how God can transform something that is evil into something that is good. It also gave me a greater appreciation of his grace, his unconditional and immeasurable love for all his people here on Earth. "If not by the grace of God go I" always springs to mind.

As I watch our team do the physical work of God in transforming the former hell-hole brothel into a place of hope, I can once again see redemption in action, first in this building, and I am confident in the lives of the inhabitants of Svay Pak. I leave the village much more positive every day. Praise God.

BEFORE

AFTER

Coloured Streamers -- Toph

2008-05-12T08:21:00.000-07:00

(apologies; another long post)

At the back of the former brothel, behind where the kitchen used to be are three little rooms. Two of them have cisterns and (some days) running water; the third is a little toilet area with a squat pot. Behind that is the back door, which was cemented over in its former incarnation, leaving no fire escape. We have considered breaking this barrier down, but the opening would then only face a brick wall. It does provide a slight breeze. Most of my scraping and cleaning today was in the cistern rooms.

Around 9:30 this morning, Kit and I were taking a break at the same time, and I suggested a walk. I haven’t really seen Svay Pak yet. We arrive along a dirt road, following about a 300m stretch, with a slight jog at the highway. The road continues past Rahab’s House the same distance again, ending with a Catholic Church on the left, well painted but with a large padlock. We have seen no indication that the building is used. All this we can see from our building. Directly across from us is an empty lot, used as a rubbish tip. In the mornings under baskets we can see roosters, and we wonder if they are fighting cocks.

Kit and I began by crossing the vacant lot. On the other side is a path – it would be wrong to call this a road, and we have to make way for a girl on a bicycle. As we follow a serpentine path, we lose orientation. The path winds back and forth; there is no easy way to retrace our steps. I remember being told this is where white men are led when they request something special in Svay Pak.

People sit in front of their houses, watching us. We smile, and sampeh (make a little prayerful bow with our hands folded in front of us), and I say hello, or good morning. I don’t speak Khmer, so what do I know? They are surprised – one woman in particular is clearly delighted. Has she ever heard someone white use her language? The expression on her face seems not. We are now well out of sight of the building where we work.
Even on these paths, buildings standing no further than a meter apart from each other in places, there are shop fronts. Most sell drinks, or foodstuffs. One seems to have mechanical parts, though there is nothing mechanical to be seen. Multicoloured streamers, about 4cm wide, hang from the roof of the shop fronts. It is a bright relief amidst the brown dirt which is everywhere. Then I see that they are condoms.

We have no right to be here. Fortunately we have a guide. The village hunchback, who does not speak, has adopted us, and assumes responsibility for monitoring entrances and exits. He is unforgettable – alternately comic and fierce, clearly a known presence in the village, but of no certain hierarchy. Unable to get a name for him, we have taken to calling him Yoda. He is guiding us trough the back streets of Svay Pak, where I would never be otherwise. He walks fast. As he starts sidestepping between two houses, it is clear we are no longer on even a path. I stop – some children are playing marbles, and they teach me how to shoot for distance with the middle finger, my hand like a scorpion. Since my hand lacks their flexibility, I shoot only a few inches, and they laugh at me.

I sampeh to them, and we continue the tour. The path is no winding alongside a manmade pond on one side (there is a safety fence, and houses right along the other side. One foot in front of the other we continue. The house on the right has a baby alone, swinging in a hammock. What is striking is that the house is really clean. It has been swept immaculately, and though the possessions are few they are tidy. This is not like the house with four teenage boys who glowered at us. Of the grandma with so many wrinkles radiating out from her nose that it looked like a sunburst. Or the young woman with her face painted white, and a hot pink cotton top, emerging from a room like a small warehouse.

Kit speaks to the young mother, and through gestures asks the age of her baby. Two months (or is she telling us that she has another child?). The mother is pretty, and modestly dressed, and maybe twenty. She seems to be trying to live in Svay Pak, rather than merely survive.

Yoda presses us on; he doesn’t want us speaking to anyone else. Eventually he shows us a direction, and that returns us to the far side of the vacant lot.

We cross, but keep walking. At the church some girls are skipping, and Kit takes one end of the rope, to help the children play. Skip rope, marbles – some children in Svay Pak have toys, but most do not. Across from the church is a yard, fenced with chicken wire. There is a gap at the gate. Within are over forty children, aged two to five. There is no adult or teenager within. A few play on the field at the back; others have slipped through the gate to watch the skipping. This almost looks lie a daycare. But it might also be a kennel.

There was no evidence of water in any of the houses. The cisterns at the back of the brothel seem suddenly cleaner than they were, and so we return, and I go back to work in those back rooms.

When I google “Svay Pak”, I am told it is the red light district of Phnom Penh. Except there are no lights, of any colour. The roads don’t have potholes, because they are not paved. I am also told all the brothels have been closed down by the government. Today, though, there is no doubt that the sex trade continues here. Our walk confirms the other signs we have seen. There is nothing attractive about this place. Yet still the kids play simple games with each other, and still the streamers wave in the breeze. Oh, right.

Scraping, a walk and reactions in Svay Pak - Grant

2008-05-12T07:34:00.000-07:00

We were back out to Rahab's House to start our second week of work. Gone are the sounds of sledge hammers hitting solid walls and the crash of those walls hitting the floor. The sounds in RH today were the sounds of scraping and scrubbing and painting (true that is fairly quiet but one of the painters is a little chatty), pulling nails out of the wooden ceiling and other bits and pieces of renewing this place.

i was back to scraping the walls. We had rid the place of the horred pink paint last week but our test painting on the second floor shows that the paint under the pink paint is not absorbing the new paint well meaning we need to try and get everything back down to the concrete plastering. So the arms and shoulders continue to take something of a beating but it continues to be holy work. The strange point of the day for me concerned room 9. ARC decided to keep one of the old brothel rooms as something of a museum. Barb was in there today scrubbing the floor - probably the most disgusting job any of us have had to do so far. My job was scraping - as you already know - the pink paint in room 9 only goes as high as the interior walls which means there's about 4 feet of wall above the pink. So there I was trying so hard to scrape all the grey paint above the pink and leave the pink intact. The greatest temptation I've faced this week was to just strip all that pink off - but I didn't.

In the afternoon 4 of us went for a walk through the village - Kelvin, Paul, Marty and me. We walked up toward the highway and looked around. We went up to the two lane highway and walked along until we came to the next road in. We walked down it to see if we could get a view of the back of RH. We could see where it was but we would have had to walk through someon'e private property to do so - not a good idea in Svay Pak. On the way back I looked over at a group of men who were sitting and chatting at a cafe. I briefly made eye contact with one of them who puckered his lips into a kiss. I wasn't sure if he was looking to make a sale of some sorts or if he was telling us to "kiss off." Either way it was a little unsettling. Back in SP proper we turned up a sidestreet - a narrow alley really - and carried on to the end. We looked down a couple of even narrower alleys and had no thought of going down those. As we turned to go back to RH a well dressed woman smiled at us and beckoned us to follower her down the alley - she obviously had something or us she thouht we wanted - my stomach turned.

I've been in many different Cambodian villages in my 5 visits to this country. Svay Pak is like no other. In almost all villages Westerners are looked at with some curiosity but when you given evidence of care and concern the people - particularly the children - are very open and friendly. Not so in SP. The people here are way past guarded. The looks of some are quite hostile while others are merely cold. There are a few children who come around and are happy to laugh and play but they are always looking to see what they might get from us. SP is a cold unloving village where children are for sale and you can feel it in the looks of the people.

We carry on with our work seeing in it the "mustard seed" and the "yeast" of the Kingdom of God. We don't know all that RH will be to this place but we know that God is doing somehting with it. So I will carrying scraping (one more day) in faith.

Blessings,

Grant

Mother's Day, Meanderings, Marie...and More (Kit)

2008-05-12T07:30:00.000-07:00

You have read comments from the others about the church service we attended en masse yesterday - started at 1015 and ended at 1230. 'Twas all very well that they had little machines that provided concurrent interpretation, but mine refused to work, despite my efforts of yanking out the aerial so as to pick up any signal beyond twenty feet, and waving it around searching for a signal, bopping others on the head, looking totally insane. However at one point in the service, I was called to leave my seat and approach the front along with a number of others. They had us all line up in front of the congregation. I looked over to our team in a state of anxiety. I had no clue what was about to happen next. I looked over to KVE who said "Mother" and then everything clicked into place. Mother's Day!! Jeff suddenly appeared on the scene with a gift in his hand - he was my 'son'! It was a pleasure to tell him that he has a wonderful mom of his own, who loves him very much (there was a gift for Grace too). When I later opened the gift I was just delighted - 2 bars of soap, which I may give way before I leave Cambodia, and a lovely krama which I will certainy keep.

A quick lunch and then a long, long trip via tuktuk to A Place of Rescue, run by Marie Ens. It was so wonderful to see this place: homes for dying AIDS patient, small homes (which hold bunks for 6-8) with live-in house mothers for each orphan , and homes for the 'grannies' who were completely destitute and living on the street, trying to eke out some food to survive...Their children are dead, killed in the genocide. They had nothing at all until being found and brought here. Grannies, families, kids, a football field, a volleyball court, chickens, rabbits, gardens, space, ... it is a wonderful place. These kids are so different from the ones in 'our' little village - yes, they are orphans, some are HIV positive, some have AIDs, but here they know they are loved. They were clean, respectful, and happy. And I had a ball - the girls raced up to me, grabbed my arms, and lined up for hugs. They put flowers in my hair, they cuddled and snuggled and laughed and smiled. Being far away from my own grown up daughters, I received a wonderful Mother's Day from these warm , energetic and happy little girls.

But morning comes early. Up to 'the suite' at 0615 hrs. In the van by sevenish, out to SP by eight, Vietnamese coffee waiting for us, 'Mr. Yoda' standing guard, flailing sign language and shrieking completely incomprehensible directions at us and at any kids who show up.

Hi-ho, hi-ho, it's off to work we...er... went. No sledgehammers today, but we worked and worked and worked. Clayton provides the coffee, arranges for lunch, goes off for supplies, and works very hard himself. We will really miss him - tomorrow is his last day with us before he heads off to the States for a bit.

Some very nice things indeed have happened to us this past weekend, but we were all very glad to get back to SP. We want to get this work done!! But it's tough. As I said in an earlier blog, we don't receive a roaring welcome when we arrive in 'town' and some people show open hostility to us. If this means that we are making even a slight dent - one heartbeat - in the ocean of human trafficking , I can live with their hostility. But the kids can be little sharks as well, tough little survivors without a lot of hope, without much of a future. And what will their kids be like, also with no teaching, no love, no peace, no hope?

Toph and a I headed out on a short walk this morning, a walk which quickly became an unanticipated guided tour, with Mr. Y, racing up to get in front of us, and leading us through the village. With his wretched physicanl handicaps, his inablility to speak, and possible cognitive defects as well, he (and possible only he) seemed to realize that we were just walking, that Toph was not looking for a young girl or boy, that I was not looking for children to buy (nand later use or sell). He gave us a wonderful tour of his small village. It is a sad, forgotten little community. I am sure here are lots like it, but Svay Pak has the reputation of being a child sex farm.

I would love to write more, but I keep falling asleep at the keyboard. It is 11:30 pm, and I have to get up at 0545, so I need to crash.

This comes with much love to you all.
K

Kelvin's post #8 "Information Overload"

2008-05-12T07:29:00.001-07:00

It has been a few days since I have posted and at the moment I am having a little trouble concentrating but I will give it my best. It is partly because of information overload and partly because I am sitting next to my new buddy Marty.
Anyways it has been a interesting few days and the emotional roller coaster has been exhausting. We have been out with friends at a beer and barbeque restaurant having lots of fun and then wake up the next morning to go to see the killing Field. From there we go straight to have a very nice lunch and then spend a few hours in the market. For dinner we go to have a very nice cambodian dinner with Sotheary, Brians right hand person with Ratanak. Sunday morning we head off to church which is a "Little" different from what I am used to but I really enjoyed it. They did a special dedication to all the mothers for mothers day and it was at this point that I realized how much I missed my family, Barb (bless her heart) must have seen it in my eyes and came over to give me a big hug, thanks again Barb I needed that. After church we again had a nice lunch in town before heading out to the rescue center about 25kms out of town. It was a very nice drive in our tuktuks, gave us a chance to see a bit more that the streets of Phnom Phen. The rescue center is an amazing place and trying to describe it would not do it justice. The only thing I can say is that it is one step closer to heaven than I have ever experienced before, Marie is an amazing person and God is using her to do great things.

Monday morning came early and before I knew it I was back at RH with a paint brush in my hand wondering how in the world I was going to be able to go home at the end of the week and resume "normal" life. The things I have heard, seen, smelled, and felt this past week, and I'm sure there is more to come, have been enough to last a life time.

Kelvin

Good day after a great weekend - Jeff

2008-05-12T07:09:00.000-07:00

Sorry I haven’t blogged in a bit, the last few days have been quite busy, so ill give you an update on what has been going on in the past 2 days

Yesterday we started off with church in the morning. Church in Cambodia is, I don’t want to say more powerful but maybe it was just the timing. There was a praise band that led the service; they almost had a mosh pit in front of the church. The Christians in that church were just so enthusiastic about being there and praising God that many of them would just dance when they heard that music playing and would sing their hearts outs. The service was all in Khmer, though there was a white guy preaching (he was fluent in Khmer) but they had headsets and a translator in the back of the church who would translate the service into English. This was really neat because they had a good mix of foreigners and native Cambodian people there. After the service though is when the real action happened =P Right after the service I was approached by two girls. One who was 15 (I don’t remember her name, sre…something) and the other was a 20 year old women named Candi. Now Candi who wasn’t unattractive, quite the opposite actually, anyways we started talking for a bit and all of a sudden she starts talking about marriage. Now I'm not quite sure but I think she was building to a proposal of some sort. Though I don’t think it would work out.
After church we went for lunch and then off to visit “Place of Rescue” the organization run by Marie Ens. When we got out there we were greeted by Marie’s two dogs Toby and Suzie. We got a tour of place of rescue. It has grown quite a bit since I was there last. There are 10 more residence buildings going up and a school as well. We walked along and I started to recognize many of the children. Many of which have grown about a foot since I saw them last. We were also able to see Lido, the boy whom our family sponsors at place of rescue. I remember last time we were there he was very tiny (even shorter then Sokna if my memory is correct) but now he’s grown up into quite a “strapping young man” as some would say. This weekend was probably the most fulfilling part of the trip for me. Being able to go to ARC and then Rescue. Those two places do such amazing things in a place full of horror and poverty.

Now today we started with breakfast and then we were back into the routine. When we got to Svay Pak we got right to it. It really is coming along; I’m surprised how well we have been doing. The kids started to come by after a while (I think most of them thought we weren’t coming back seeing as we haven’t been there for two days). Even the little bottle collector girl came by who of course I gave my empty bottle to and also gave her a couple pieces of candy. She was quite pleased, gave me a smile and ran off. We also had a couple of boys help us with the sweeping and cleaning which make my job a lot easier (I got to sit in front of the fan while the helped me out) which they found it like more of a game then work (I’m glad I could let them have some fun). We also brought out some toys for the kids to play with. They children had LOADS of fun when Tim gave them a soccer ball to play with. I also was able to hand out some Cambodian style hacky sacks which the kids thanked me and played with them for the rest of the day.
When we got back to the hotel I immediately crashed and had a good nap, until we met before dinner. Overall a great start to the week.

PS: I heard that many of you liked my post about “squishy” and I would like to tell you that I think I found his little brother today after coming back from dinner. There was a little rat (road kill of course) on the road by our hotel. I think I’m going to call him Gregory =D

God bless
Jeff

Top Banana

2008-05-12T07:02:00.001-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #9

We're back. 7am this morning we were leaving the hotel on our way back to Svay Pak to begin week 2. Things have not changed over the weekend. No smiles, more glares, more garbage, lots more garbage, did I say lots more garbage? One thing had changed. The walls, which last Monday stood in Rahab's House, made their way out to the street during last week and slowly but surely the piles have completely disappeared and are now scattered throughout the village, as they are being used as pavings in front of shack after shack after shack.

My day was spent upstairs in the "once upon a time" pink room of evil, which is now emerging (that is not a reference to any church movement in the States) into a room which I would be quite happy to live in - almost!

For some strange reason I became very aware today of the strangeness (1st understatement of the week) of this village. For the second Monday running a white van arrives in the morning with 10 white folk in it and they all pile into a house that has been derelict since a night in 2003 and nobody comes to see what they are doing. Literally nobody. Yes we get the same few kids and grandpa shows up to mumble something about empty bottles, (I believe Kit is getting very good at interpreting) but no groups form to peer in, in order to see what is going on. Instead, when a few of us go out for a short stroll we get leered at as if we are "bad" people. I thought we were the good guys? We all worked so hard today and then left and, as expected, no paparazi appeared to take our photos as we left. I am not very fond of this place. And that is my 2nd understatement.

OK - I'm maybe sounding a bit grouchy right now and it's nothing to do with Man U winning - again. I think I'm grouchy at my self that I am finding it really hard to like this place, these people and what is going on, probably every night there. (The way these folk are 'interacting' with us makes it very clear that they see us as a threat to ...) I don't love these people. But surely I should? I am a Christian after all and a "minister wanna be" according to our fearless construction leader: Kelvin. So what can I do about these feelings?

As all good Irishmen should do, I went out for dinner with the team and ate some potatoes. Great stuff. Now I am thinking more clearly, I think.

In our relfection time Kit was asking us what we thought of Svay Pak, and then she asked what we thought God thought of SP. I know God loves the people but the key thing is He doesn't love the evil that is so prevalent there. But in His grace, rather than judging them, God has poured out His mercy and grace and given the village Rahab's House. I am holding on to the belief that this is God's will and that through it God will redeem this place and more importantly the people that live there.

So tomorrow as I go to SP and walk donw the street I think I will be singing one of my favourite songs. I was reminded of it tonight during dinner when Grant pointed to the restaurant across the street. It was called "Top Banana" and as the sign shows it includes a wonderful phrase at the bottom. "You'll never walk alone."

God wants to walk with everyone. Even the folks of SP. No matter who, no matter where, God wants to walk with them but He wants to deal with the crud in their lives aswell. So the question is "are we willing to walk with Him?"

Marty

P.S. - With regards the superintendent: Mr Van Eyk took some liberty at the end of last week in his blog, describing his first impressions of the rest of the team, when he met us at the church. It is my turn to repay the compliment. Kelvin gave me the impression that he knew a lot about construction. Well, he DOES. And more. Kelvin has been a wonderful addition to this team. His humour, humility, insight and openness has been a joy. In a short time he has become an honourary member of Fairview. I think our team will miss not seeing him regularly after next Sunday. Well ... maybe a little bit!

You are My Sunshine

2008-05-12T07:02:00.000-07:00

Every day has been so full with new experiences and new things to see, take in and absorb. This past weekend was no exception. Both Saturday and Sunday were packed full and you've heard about so much of it from the rest of the team - going to ARC, the market, Church on Sunday and Rescue - I'm not going to say much more.
But I do want to tell you about this morning - we were all really wanting to get back to Rahab's House, to see the kids and start working again. I was cleaning the floor in the last "pink room" - the one being kept basically as is. But the foor - it was beyond any dirty floors I've ever cleaned. I was on my knees with a scraper, trying to take all the filth and whatever off the tiles, when Tim came along and said that "the little girl was back". (On Friday a mom came by RH to see what we were doing and I couldn't believe the the gash on one child's forehead and the muk that had been plastered on it. To make a long storey a little shorter, the mom let me "clean" it and then just put some polysporin on it). I walked towards the front of the bulding and could see her looking for me. As I came within about 10 feet of her, I opened my arms and she just came flying at me with this great huge grin and landed in my arms - just the same way Jessica and Colin do when I'm taking Joyce's place as Greeter. It was totally awesome - she had this great big beautiful smile. Her forehead looked 100% from what it was on Friday. I like to think it was the polysporin but know that it was God's healing hand. Nothing is clean where we are. Before she left, my little Sunshine came running back and gave me another wonderful hug. As I went back to my floor scraping that beautiful little Sunshine stayed in my heart reminding me of why were are here, working the way we are - it's for all these little girls.
The guys have worked so hard today, scraping and cleaning and scraping some more. Kelvin and Martin put a second coat of yellow paint on the upstairs room and did the trim in white. It is the most beautiful paint job I've ever seen - covering that terrible horrific pink.
It's getting late and I think Richard would like his computer back! Hopefully I will be able to send at least one more blog before the end of the week. But these others are so eloquent in this, I might not have to!
Lots of love and hugs from me!
Barb

PS About our Superintendent of the workforce - We've almost made a Presbyterian out of him.
And we're all very grateful that God directed him to be a part of this Team. Many thank yous, Kelvin for all that you are and do for each of us every day!

Day 9 - Tim

2008-05-12T06:17:00.000-07:00

It seems to me very difficult to avoid one's genetics, even as Christians, at least that's my own experience. We repeat so easily the sins of our fathers (and mothers - sorry, perhaps not the best day to point that out is it?). What about Cambodia's genetics? Can this country escape the relentless cycle in at least the last 2 centuries of invasion by either Thailand or Vietnam preceded or followed by vicious civil wars, even a world-unique intraethnic group Khmer-on-Khmer genocide? Can it escape its authoritarian, might-is-right culture of ingrained immaturity backed by a karmic Buddhism which reinforces the attitude "looking out for number one"? Who knows? It might not even be our business to ask the question. All we know in our weakness and ignorance is that we've been asked to do a job here, and we're trying to do it with all our might. Whether it makes any difference after we leave is, let's face it, entirely up to Him. It's up to Him to cause there to be joy and the conviction that death has already been conquered in the most achingly sad eyes I have ever seen in the old women at Rescue who lost all their children under Pol Pot - and that they will see their kids again. And it's up to Him to turn the unspeakable crime of the very existence of Svay Pak around. This is our common prayer. It's all we've got, and it's enough.

Mikhail Kalashnikov's sideline

2008-05-12T03:42:00.000-07:00

We're back at Rahab's House after what feels for most of the team as a very long time away. Friday morning's two hours of work went by fast, but because we had to be punctual for our visit to ARC, we didn't take the opportunity to celebrate our amazing progress and thank God for his grace as he sustained us through this first week. We also didn't get a chance to acknowledge that our mission was going to continue in another form during the weekend, as we shared time with others in ARC, church and at Marie's. So naturally, we were hungry to get dirty again in Svay Pak.

My job today was simple. Take out the nails that were used to hold up the false ceiling to the wooden framework on the ground floor. Painstakingly simple... grap a nail with side cutters and yank out... repeat.

I'm sure that Mikhail Kalashnikov, the inventor of the AK-47 assault rifle, had a side line in manufacturing nail guns. I must have pulled out a thousand nails today, and I still have a good hour's worth of yanking to do tomorrow. In some places there were a dozen nails in a space smaller than most of the pictures posted on this Blog site.

Although it was simple, it also gave me time to work in relative solitude, something I really needed after a full first week and weekend. It was nice to reflect on God's goodness and love, and seeing that flowing out to the children by various Field Team members (including Richard, our human Whirly-Bird).

In the afternoon, Grant, Kelvin, Marty and I took a walk around Svay Pak. This was our first real walkabout. We were soaking in all the sights and wondering how people could live their daily lives in such abject poverty, wondering which of the buildings along the main streets were brothels, and thinking about the sinful activities that would be performed on young girls after sundown tonight. We decided that our next walkabout would be a bit more intentional... we will be praying for the people of this village as we stroll the streets. Please pray that we will get an opportunity to do this. God is here and desires our prayers.

Falling behind in my posts - by Paul

2008-05-12T03:13:00.000-07:00

It was good to get a day off on Sunday to get to church and to see Marie Ens' Place of Rescue. Unfortunately, it alse meant that many of us didn't get an opportunity to post to the Blog.

So for a change of pace, I have uploaded a bunch of my photos to help you visualize the sights were are seeing.

Hope you enjoy the pictures. Please note that the last two may not be suitable for younger children.

Various pictures of week 1 in Cambodia

http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/ImagesOfPhnomPenh

Tuol Sleng Genocide Centre and the Choeung Ek killing field

http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/TuolSlengGenocideMuseum

http://picasaweb.google.com/rahabshouse.paul/ChoeungEkKillingFields

And Heffalumps Too! - Richard

2008-05-12T02:24:00.000-07:00

Sometimes the things we need most are the things we don't really want. I would have been quite happy to carry on working right through the weekend - but greater minds thought otherwise.
After the joy of ARC /New Song on Friday, the horrors of Choeng Ek, the normality of dinner in a Cambodian home, we were treated to another glimpse of God's Kingdom with a visit to Marie Ens and a Place of Rescue. This is an orphanage for children and families with AIDS, and orphaned grandmothers from PolPot's regime. One would think that this would be another downer - but not so AT ALL!
From the moment we turned off the main road, there was a noticable difference. People smiled and waved all along the way. It might have been the sight of 3 tuk-tuks in a convoy - but I think it was the edges of God's Kingdom spreading outward - the yeast in Marty's blog.
After greeting Marie, she took us on a tour of her little piece of heaven. And it truly is. The smiling, happy faces of ALL the residents reveal the peace and joy of the place. They are truly blessed to be in a place like that and they are equally grateful.
By the end of the afternoon, we all had a number of kids hanging off our arms as if they were begging us to stay with them in heaven.
One little boy ( about 2 1/2 yrs) grabbed my hand as soon as he saw me and asked to be picked up. He put his head on my shoulder and would not let me put him back down. He never said a word and it was only later that I found out his story. He had been at Rescue since he was 1 day old.
It was very hard to leave that wonderful place - so different from Svay Pak. But at the same time I was anxious to get back there. I missed those little urchins (as Kit calls them) and was eager to see them again and give them the toys we had bought at the market.
The work was drudgery - but we were all happy to do it after our break. We have seen the effect of what a little yeast can do and want to get kneading.

The second highlight of the day was almost back at the hotel, we pulled up behind an elephant plodding down the middle of the road. Of course we had to stop to get pictures.

Svay Pak's Yeast

2008-05-11T16:01:00.000-07:00

Marty's Daily Diary #8

“The kingdom of heaven is like yeast that a woman took and mixed into about eighteen pounds of flour until it worked all through the dough.”

Matthew 13:33

Last Monday as we drove in to Svay Pak for the first time I looked around and part of me thought that what we were about to do was a total waste of time and energy. What difference could this little place, called Rahab's House, make in this cesspool?

This weekend I have had the privilege of visiting two little heavens on earth and seeing angel after angel. The work of ARC and Rescue are making a difference. Why?

Becasue that's the way Jesus said the Kingdom of God would break in to this world. These two small projects are growing and growing and impacting and impacting. Praise Jesus!

So what about Rahab's House? Could it be the yeast that is needed in Svay Pak? Yes, oh yes! I have been inspired by ARC and Rescue. But also challeneged. In order for the yeast to be effective it needs to be worked into the flour: in order for me, us, the church, to be effective we need to be worked in to the fabric and make-up of society and not sit idle at the sidelines and watch the world go by.

I am so looking forward to the drive in to Svay Pak on Monday morning. Right now it is not something I would wish to eat - but perhaps with a little yeast, this place could be transformed in to another little heaven on earth in this land.

Our Father, who art in heaven,
hallowed be your name,
your Kingdom come ... on earth as it is in heaven.

Amen.
Marty

Team Canada loses 4-1 -- Toph

2008-05-11T08:32:00.000-07:00

The past few days have been tough, in part because we have not been at Svay Pak. Svay Pak is grotesque, but it is now familiar and there we have purpose. Away from there, I have been struggling with what to do, and how time gets spent.

Our time has been full, though. On Friday, we visited New Song, which houses girls rescued from prostitution, including those who had worked in Svay Pak. Saturday morning we visited a Killing Fields memorial, and see a monument to the skulls of the victims, stacked according to gender and approximate age; all levels of society had been wiped out at that time. Our lunches are at restaurants where the proceeds go to educational programs and rescued girls and their families; ethical dining comes with filter-press coffee. Saturday night, we as a team are invited into a Cambodian home, that of a worker for the Ratanak Foundation. All of these are rich experiences, one after another falling on us like the rain which begins to fall daily now at 4:10, give or take. Today, to cap it off, we were able to visit the Place of Rescue, which houses families with AIDS, orphans (some of whom are HIV positive), and even orphaned grandmas, whose families were killed under the Pol Pot regime.

It is a beautiful place in the countryside, with thatched houses and shared living, supporting orphans and widows, the ill and the destitute. Everyone of us is overwhelmed by the joy in the place.

While we are being shown the grounds, the tuktuk drivers (the same ones we hired for the day yesterday) have talked themselves into a volleyball game with the older boys. When the volleyball ends and soccer begins, I am invited to play, by a boy I have not seen before. He, like most, is barefoot. The soccer begins, and I get to play. They are all strong players, running around. They shout to each other “eye-mope”, “eye-mope”, which may be a corruption of “I’m open.” I try saying it and they laugh at me; so I say it again. I get only one or two good tackles (how hard do you check an AIDS orphan? I ask myself), and, thanks to my eager assistance, our team loses 4-1. One of the tuktuk drivers seems mildly disappointed with me. He is 29, though he looks a lot older, and so was born during Pol Pot's rule. The football was fun, but the whole time I was aware that this was one of thsoe things I would only ever be doing once in my life – soccer with Cambodian orphans – and that I was so privileged to be part of it.

The rest of the time there (perhaps an hour), my hand is monopolized by a girl, perhaps 4, who walks with me. When she is in pictures, she makes funny faces. She gets me to bounce her along as we walk to the chicken coop, as if she were in low gravity. She proves herself a mimic and a clown, and I am told that she was once living on the streets, without parents, before she was taken in as an orphan (first with someone with three other kids, and then, all four, with Place of Rescue). I have no idea what her future will bring her. I do know that she, like so many of the kids today, showed us the sort of place where joy and love can coexist amidst unimaginably dire circumstances. It is exactly the sort of place that Rahab’s House hopes to be.

This weekend has given us a renewed strength as we begin the second, longer, week of work in Svay Pak. The walls of the building are gone, and now are flooring for the fronts of many buildings along that dirt road. Concrete is poured, filling the holes in the floor, and the painting has begun. Now come small jobs, dirty jobs, more cleaning, more painting, and things we can only begin to imagine at this point.

I can’t wait.

Memories old and new - Grant

2008-05-11T08:21:00.000-07:00

This Sunday - Pentecost - Mothers' Day - we went to church with Clay Butler of ARC. The service was two and a quarter hours - and you thought services at Fairview were getting long the last little while. Don't worry I don't have any new ideas from todays service about going longer.

We are not able to go to Sunshine House this trip so we made a trip to Place of Rescue - Marie Ens' ministry about 45 minutes outside of Phnom Penh. I'll let the team speak for themselves but it is almost always a profound experience to be in a place with families with dying AIDS victims and about 140 orphans who are loved and cared for. You'll read from some of the others how important this visit was for them.

For me it was a place of memories. Rescue was the place that Grace and I visited when she first met Sokna and her mom Phalla. It was the place we stayed for our visit in 2003. It was the place Grace stayed for her very long visit from October of 2004 to February of 2005 as we were working to bring Sokna home to Canada.

Rescue is very different now because it has grown so much but everywhere I looked there were memories of passed experiences - good and bad.

We had a great time in our nightly reflection time together and we are pumped to get back to Svay Pak and Rahab's House. We have new energy and if not new purpose we have an even more finely tuned purpose.

Thanks for your prayers. It means so much to us that we have such support back home - and it is making a PROFOUND difference to us here.

Peace in Jesus,

Grant

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

2008-05-10T17:09:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-05-10T09:06:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-10T07:51:00.000-07:00

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 café 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

2008-05-10T07:25:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-05-10T07:22:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-10T03:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-10T03:16:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-10T02:54:00.000-07:00

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

God moves mountains - by Paul

2008-05-09T19:00:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-09T16:47:00.000-07:00

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"

2008-05-09T16:37:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-09T07:50:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-09T07:29:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-09T02:58:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-09T02:27:00.000-07:00

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.

What a pushover - take 2

2008-05-08T10:38:00.000-07:00

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

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

2008-05-08T07:14:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-08T07:13:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-05-08T06:40:00.000-07:00

(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

2008-05-08T06:35:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-08T02:32:00.001-07:00

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)

2008-05-08T02:09:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-08T02:00:00.000-07:00

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

Rice or Banana - by Paul

2008-05-07T16:18:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T15:56:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T07:34:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-05-07T07:25:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T06:54:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T06:46:00.001-07:00

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

2008-05-07T06:43:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T06:38:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T01:41:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T01:34:00.001-07:00

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"

2008-05-07T01:21:00.000-07:00

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

2008-05-07T01:03:00.000-07:00

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.

Kelvins post #3 "The walls are down!"

2008-05-06T07:03:00.000-07:00

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)

2008-05-06T06:56:00.000-07:00

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?

2008-05-06T06:16:00.000-07:00

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