Home to Aotearoa

I am spending a nice afternoon at Clarke Quay, among the restaurants,
boats, fish and people watching, you can't get much better than warm
tropical weather and a good ice-cream and you can get it all here.

The most fun I'm having is checking out the fish in the river, feeding
on all sorts of things. Their scales are shiny and reflective as the
graze close to the waters surface. Hundreds just huddling together and
seeing what sort of yummies they can find. Its quite a nice wee sight.

Singapore, although I've only been here 3 times after my stint here
being born and being a baby - it still feels so comfortable and homely
and like I would fit into the culture, people, climate, and life at
the snap of my fingers. Maybe its because its a city that is clean and
green, or because its so easy to get around, or maybe cos everyone
speaks English? I'm not sure of why the ease and comforts are there,
but they just are.

Its a great location and really is the gateway of Asia. Its affordable
and easy to travel to any country around the world really and the best
thing that Singapore did for itself is making it a central hub with a
giant and amazing airport. It doesn't matter if you have a 9 hour lay
over in Changi Airport, because it will really only feel like 2 once
you've gone and explored, or maybe even got a spa treatment, gone to
the botanical gardens or butterfly garden or eaten an array of amazing
food and surfed the internet for free. No painful waiting here like
there was in Entebbe or Mumbai where you literally see the seconds
pass as minutes or sometimes even hours.

So anyway, this trip to Singapore, although short - is still a
delight. I managed to catch up with a sweet friend who is Malaysian,
who I met in London, who just happened to be passing through the same
dates as me for a job interview. Funny how life works out to give you
friends all over the world. Its just grand.

As I'm getting hour by hour, closer to my departure time for New
Zealand, my heart gets more and more excited. I just can't wait to get
on that plane! I kind of am like 'ok, I'm done being on holiday, I
just want to go home now'. It feels like this past 3 years have just
been one giant holiday. Yes, I remember that I have worked, and been
on trips to Uganda, India and Vietnam to do work that is on my heart
to do...but it still feels so like I've been blessed with an amazing 3
years of holiday. I won't try too hard to remember the incredibly
tough times that I faced...but I will continue to bask in this holiday
glory.

Ahhhhhh.

Off to Kiwi land I go.

Vietnam

I like food. Yes, I admit it, I even love food. It brings me such pleasure to taste the infusions in my mouth, to try new things, have spices and flavours just rolling around in there. It’s so good. My Vietnamese experience has been somewhat of a taste sensation, such beautiful fresh and crispy flavours, as well as some fiery little red chillis to spice things up, it has been a delight every meal that is for sure. I find myself looking for the place that I will next have my meal, constantly thinking about my stomach, or more like what concoction my taste buds will experience. I don’t know how I have managed to fit 3 to 4 courses in at one sitting, but I have mastered the art it seems. I look forward to every course like I am 5 years old on Christmas Eve, anticipating the arrival of Santas’ glory the next morning. I have had so many delightful meals, in ‘Western’ style restaurants, Not for Profit run restaurants to train and teach street kids, side of the road joints, food carts being pulled by sweet old ladies, fish markets, and in a family home, and I can safely say that I have thoroughly enjoyed every one.

One morning while in Hoi An, I rose early to go to the markets, where they start their trade at an early 4am when the first of the fishing boats start rowing in their catch of the night. With fish still jumping out of the boat for one try at their last escape, they haul the fish up on the docks and crowds from restaurants start to barter for the cheapest price from the lowly fishermen. It is ridiculous the prices here, it’s not worth mentioning because it will get you all mad and jealous that in the western world we pay far too much, and we can barely get them straight off the boat like this. The freshest and most delicious array that you can possibly imagine are soon all over the markets, getting sliced and diced and sold to the locals.

One of my favourite meals I ate was a whole fish that was wrapped and baked in a banana leaf, with some herbs incrusted over it and fresh lime, it is a taste that can only be described as fishy heaven. I have no idea of what the herbs and the spices were, and when I asked they could only provide me with the Vietnamese names, but I figured I didn’t need to know since I could never cook it as good as they just did.

(Don’t worry - this is the part about food, I will get serious soon but for the time being, I hope that you’re not hungry!)

A dessert that I tried that I can still imagine tasting in the back of my mouth was a crème brulee, but infused with ginger and lemongrass. Oh. My. Goodness. Don’t even try to give me another crème brulee in my life if it doesn’t have this combination.

‘Streets’ was the name of a restaurant that I went to that was started and run by an American Buddhist, he has a heart and connection with Vietnam so has decided to start a Not for Profit organization here for abandoned kids who are living on the street. He has started a cooking school to give them a skill and has opened a restaurant so that these young teenagers and adults will learn the hospitality industry. They work there for a fair wage, as it is a not for profit so all the money after expenses literally go to these kids. It is such a fantastically run place, the kids are so welcoming, friendly and appreciative of what this opportunity has given to them. The owner (who for the life of me, can’t remember his name) comes to every table to welcome you, suggest an item off the menu and wants to know your story, why you came to Vietnam, how you’re enjoying it etc. It is the best hospitality I have ever received at a restaurant before and it was an absolute pleasure paying my bill at the end. The food was pretty spectacular as well.

Wandering the streets has been a delight as well, I have met so many funny people in the most random ways and the hospitality of the Vietnamese is so wonderful. I was going down a dead end alley way on my bicycle (it looked like it might be an exit), and one sweet woman called out to me ‘Wong Way!’, so I stopped and talked to her for a while. She invited me back the next day to cook and eat lunch with her, what could I say? So, I accepted her gracious invitation to welcome a complete stranger into her home and she said ‘ok, you meet my husband too’. I arrived the following morning at 10am like we arranged, and out comes a 59 year old Australian man from the house! So it turns out that this 29 year old Vietnamese woman is ‘married’ to this man. I say ‘married’ because they just pose as being married, since it is very against their traditional culture of not living together before you’re married. They get less hassle this way. So off to the markets we went to purchase a whole array of fruits, veges, herbs, fish and meat to cook, which in total cost less than US$5. I listened to her story while we cooked and obviously asked a lot of questions since the situation seemed so typical…an old, lonely western man wants a wife, man comes to Asian country to seek wife (younger and prettier of course!), man gets wife, wife gets visa. I know it’s a huge generalization of me and I automatically put them in that category (to which, sadly, they really do belong). We all ate lunch together in this awkward, ‘ewwww, you look like my granddad and your new wife is younger than your youngest kid’, state of conversation and sometimes it got the better of me and I just smiled and held my tongue. They were pleasant though. Thu, who is the woman, has a daughter who is 9 years old, she was once married to a Vietnamese man but he did the dirty on her and then ran off to America with a new woman. Since then, she has had to work for a little less than US$140 per month to care for her mother and daughter and so her daughter actually lives with her mother. It’s all very confusing. Steve, the Australian man, has 2 children back in oz who are in their thirties and have 2 children each. Steve and Thu plan to move to Australia soon, once Thu’s visa is approved, and they will leave the mother and daughter behind. Thu told me that this was her choice.

The whole situation just made my head want to explode. Hearing the stories and watching the documentaries of so many ‘mail order brides’ or the likes, and meeting the real deal for myself. It made me so sad that they were going to leave behind her mother and daughter…how would they survive? To me it sounded like sheer abandonment, but I guess you have to do what you have to do when you’re in a desperate situation. I don’t judge them for it, actually that’s not entirely true…I judge him a little for it, but then again, I guess it’s not really my job.

In a very oppressive country, in all aspects like governance, religion, gender inequality and steeped in generational traditions, it is very hard to have any peace or freedom in the choices that you make. My friends, Ross and Nicole Anderson, have been here for almost 2 years and have tried to participate in a church body that was for expats, but due to strict control, police will not tolerate Vietnamese and Westerners experiencing religion together. So the alternative to reaching the Vietnamese is underground or illegal churches. So, they started one! I found myself in an underground, secret church where they have to change their location every week so that police don’t get suspicious about having regular ‘mixed’ meetings. It was a fantastic experience, and actually in a country that has barely any freedom in religion when it comes to Christianity, these smaller, home sized groups work much better for this environment. It was a privilege being able to experience this part of the journey with them.

Through the work that they’re doing here with the ‘fellowship’ and other outreaches, I’ve also had the privilege of visiting an orphanage, or better described as a shelter until they can find these kids a home. A wonderful elderly couple, of a Vietnamese-American mix have a massive heart for abandoned children of Saigon, so what began as taking a baby or 2 into their home and nursing them, has become over 13 shelters and housing around 250 children. They are very basic and don’t leave much to be desired for, but they are a home for kids that otherwise don’t have one. This old couple house the babies in their own home – being older than normal retirement age, this couple take in new babies and are their parents, I can’t imagine being that old and doing the mum and dad thing! So they are real troopers for Jesus, in total obedience to Him. Anyway, once the children get old enough to manage in a shelter, they place them in one that they have started. I managed to get to one of these shelters and the kids were so happy, so full of life and so, so cute. It was great to interact, to be there and to hear their stories. Sad story, after sad story…but transformed – and continuing to be transformed into a powerful story of God’s love and grace. There were some really great things about the place, but some really sad things too. They are not raising many funds from people overseas, so what they have is all they’ve got, kind of a deal. There aren’t many resources to spread around the homes and food is expensive when you’re feeding 30 kids in each shelter. They have a teacher coming to the shelter to teach them, but very basic when you consider the vast needs. Many of these children do not have documentation, so in the governments eyes, they do not exist. They are not entitled to education, dental and health care or basic rights until they have proper documentation. As you can imagine – it’s a constant struggle and fight against the very corrupt and inflexible government.

I adopted a wee boy as my God son, as I was leaving the shelter, this particular boy ran up to me and put a simple pink beaded necklace around my neck that he had made during the arts and crafts session. He was so proud of it and wanted to give it to me. This touched me deeply and I asked if I could adopt this little boy into my life. At the moment, he has an ear infection that he has had for many weeks, it is so bad that green ooze is spilling from his ear. It doesn’t seem to bother him much, apart from the fact that it is causing him trouble to hear. Health care is very expensive here and it is sad to see children in such a state, but hopefully now that we are aware of it, we can help him.

There are opportunities for people to adopt a wee life into your family as well. Ross, Nicole and a team they’ve got around them are currently trying to set up an official NGO, but with the governments zero tolerance on Christian organizations, it is proving to be difficult, but hopefully soon they will see the vast need of the communities they’re reaching and have mercy on the aid organizations. For the moment, it is encouraging children through writing to them and praying for them. It is a wonderful opportunity for people to enlarge their lives with some Vietnamese children, and at the moment, it will bear no financial burden on you…which is a plus for me since next year I will be studying and my financial life will be more difficult. They’re excited about leaving it open and seeing what God does, and if you feel in particular seasons that you want to give, then that will truly bless them.

Marie, who is French-Vietnamese woman, is leading this particular part and it is called Hand of Love. If anyone wants to adopt a sweet little child into your lives, then please let me know so I can pass on your details to Marie. Her main request is that you just pray for the child and the work that will continue to be done here in Siagon.

I am excited about the prospect of being a part of something in the beginning stages, of seeing what God is capable of doing in such a hardened country, in these kids lives and how big this thing really gets. But what is more exciting to me, is because we paid a visit, one life is changed, one kid will get some medical help (Nicole is a doctor!) and one kid becomes a part of my world.

The famous saying that my pastor in London says is ‘We can’t do everything, but we can do something’ resonates deep within me when I think about this. I love the realness of that statement. It is true, we can’t do everything, our visions often want to do everything then we often do nothing because it’s all too hard. But we can do something, and I refuse to sit by, comfortable with my life and pretend that other things don’t exist. They simple do, and we are not called to live a comfortable live, but one of surrender to Christ. Really…what would He do?

Indias Magic

Somehow in the chaos and confusion that consumes you when you enter Mumbai, you fall in love with it. I don’t know how it happens, or why it happened to me, but it has.

From the first time I took a rickshaw, I fell in love with Mumbai. I’m not sure why it was that experience that gave me a depth and admiration for that city, because logically it would be a death defying and terrible experience for any westerner, but maybe just experiencing life as the locals do was the best thing for me. I was a little nervous, those crazy 3 wheeler things that buzz around the city, weaving in and out of traffic (not very carefully) can be dangerous, scary and you feel like you can come within an inch of your life on most occasions. I was proud of myself, I did it. I flagged it down, I told him where I wanted to go, I got there, gave him the right amount of money and I had no help. I felt it was a small miracle, and for the first time in the four days that I was there, it made me smile from a deep place that I hadn’t smiled from.

‘I can do this’ resonated from deep within.

That was the first sign.

The first weekend that I was there, it was Diwali (the Hindu New Year celebration, name the festival of lights), the streets were bright, ornamented with flowers, colours and lights. Every street corner was cracking with fireworks and the night sky was lit with beautiful sparks of colour and festivities. The people were buzzing in celebration and the atmosphere was wonderful, almost electric. People were happy and smiling and taking their time to admire lights and colours and beauty in what could be classified as a very ugly city. People took pride in the floral arrangements and decorations, they were adorned on cars and windows and buildings and doors, and such time and care was taken in preparing the lovely decorations. It was the India that we would imagine, or at least it is what I imagined. Bright, vibrant and very alive, and I was happy to meet it. Firecrackers and works began early morning on the Friday – I jumped alarmingly out of my bed when the first explosion woke me at 5am. Thinking it was a bomb that had exploded, I cautiously looked out of my window expecting to see some burning buildings, but to my surprise, I saw fireworks being sent into the early morning sky, then hearing the crackles and bangs made everything fall into place. For the 72 hours of the weekend, I don’t think there was one that was not filled with mini explosions, all through the night and day, hundreds of thousands, maybe even millions of firecrackers were lit. Most people liked to put them under a bridge or flyover to get a full echo effect and to see them light up the darkness, there seemed to be a sort of competition to see whose was the loudest, brightest and best.

The famous Indian head wobble is another endearing and beautiful thing here. It is hard to describe what it is, but if you imagine one of those silly little dash board dogs that their heads wobble from side to side when the car moves, that is kind of what it’s like. The Indians have this sweet way of communicating with each other using the head wobble, any sign of agreement, encouragement, understanding and instructions will be given and received using this head wobble from side to side gesture. It means so many things, I’m happy with you, ok, I understand, yes, please, thank you, goodbye, nice to see you and so it continues. They use it when they laugh, when they make jokes, when they’re talking, when they’re making plans, when they’re giving instructions, and I’ve even seen it when they’re talking to someone on the phone! It is sweet and so unique and special to Indian culture (in my experiences of the world so far). I have caught myself doing it also and it has made me just appreciate it that much more and has connected me to the people.

It seemed to be a well known thing that everything runs on ‘Indian time’ so when making plans, I learned very quickly to be there at least an hour after we arranged and I would still be early, on one occasion, I was on time and the group of people I was meeting were 3 hours later, to which they then asked me why I was so early! For me, it was all a part of the Indian experience, you had to embrace it or it would never work for you.

Unsystematic, unorganized and chaotic seem to be three words that I would easily describe my experience of India to be. I had the absolute delight (I seriously mean delight) of going to a police station with a friend to make a report of a stolen phone, and I was in awe of the unstructured chaos that was so evident in the tiny building. Waiting outside the small office, was a line of more than 20 people waiting to see an officer, while in the room were at least 7 police sitting around behind their empty desks literally doing nothing but checking their phones and talking to each other. As soon as they noticed that we were there, they ushered us into the room. Soon there was a gathering all around us of police and locals wanting to find out the story of why we were there. They couldn’t understand why we were reporting a phone loss, but we were stern with them that we needed a police report for insurance reasons. After a small discussion amongst themselves, they handed us a piece of blank A4 paper and told us to write it down ourselves and they would sign it. With no computers, log books or any sort of filing system, I saw one officer slide a piece of paperwork between the desk and the wall and watched it fall to the ground. I thought that was one great way to deal with paperwork. I so enjoyed the people watching in that experience.

I don’t think people have defined jobs, and several times I saw signs such as ‘caution, men at work’ and then next to it were 20 men drinking tea and having a chat. Or I have seen one man with a drill and 7 men looking over his shoulder and making sure he has the moral support to complete the job. There will always be a bunch of gardeners and then a supervisor literally standing over them watching their work, or behind a counter there would be 4 men working the one till and taking your order. You never know what person you needed to talk to in order to get anything done.

Not too far from my humble little room that I called home, was a new mall with a lovely coffee shop in it. Whenever I needed my western comforts after a long day on the Vision Rescue bus, or on a Saturday morning, I popped down to the mall and had a coffee. After only my second visit, the staff remembered me and my name and so every time I went in there, they would see me walking up, start waving, smiling and calling out ‘Hello Miss Corrina!’. It was so sweet and another reason why I have come to love this crazy city called Mumbai.

‘It is people, it is people, it is people.'

It was a quote that was used all the time by my Maori lecturer in college, and it is only now that I am really beginning to understand those very simple, but powerful words. In some ways it is the only way I can really define why I love to explore this beautiful world of ours, and it is the only way I can describe some of the best experiences in life I have ever had. I thought it was a silly and meaningless quote, but now I understand the power and truth in it. Something seemingly so small can impact a life so much – and how? Through people.

The Indian people are beautiful, welcoming, appreciative, humbled that you want to be there, excited, joyful and truly genuine. From being invited into homes of the people that we were reaching on the streets, invited to participate in a meal and seeing them giving completely out of their need and lack, to being invited to a humble, single room home of a teacher, I have been completely and utterly touched. This, so far has been the most extreme poverty that I have encountered, but the more extreme I seem to experience, the more generous and welcoming people I seem to come across. All the people I met and was invited into their space, were so enthused that I would come and be with them, they wanted to serve me and give to me as best as they could, and they counted it as an absolute honour to have me in their home.

So, it is with sadness and joy that I have departed the shores of India. Firmly planted in my heart and life, I know I will be back and be able to connect with such wonderful people again. I love that life has such an incredible way of unfolding layers upon layers of things you truly never expected to experience, and you India, were one of them. I hope through this journey of mine, that you have also had a piece of India enter into your hearts and lives…there’s so much more to it than these few words and experiences that I have shared, but too much for words to express. Simply put – you must experience the wonders for yourself.