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learningnewways · 6 months

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Visiting the shelter

Praise the Lord, child welfare gave me and Marian permission to visit their government shelter twice a week, starting this week! Amazing! This is such an answer to prayer as I would have been absolutely guttered if they had said no. The kids in the shelter need as much love and care as they can get!

At the moment I will be going twice a week and Marian will be visiting when she can, but most likely only every week or two. So today was my first visit back after nearly a year away. There is currently one trafficking victim in the shelter, a girl who looks late teens, however she speaks very little English so I have been unable to communicate with her. Luckily Marian will be coming with me on Monday and hopefully we can support her, as trafficking is the organisation's main focus. But in the meantime, today I spent time with the babies and the other children.

When I arrived, the children were doing school work with a teacher that comes in every day which was nice to see. This was a change to last year when some of the kids went to school off-site and others didn’t go at all. Straight away I recognised quite a few of the kids. Of course there were also some new faces, but even the ones who were still not walking last time, I could recognise them. Being that they are very small children, most of them unsurprisingly didn’t remember me! But there was one child, my faaaaavourite child, Lamin, and he seemed to remember me, which was so special. He took a few seconds to look at me, then when his eyes met mine he gave me the biggest grin and reached out for my hand, which is what I would always do when I visited him. So cute.

Lamin is so adorable and has so much personality, and in the year I’ve been away his personality has just grown! He is very cheeky, adventurous, loud, welcoming and a whole lot of fun. I love his cheeky smile the most. Seeing Lamin again was bittersweet, because of course I am happy to see him and know that he is safe and well, but I am also sad that he is still living in the shelter and has not been reunited with his family or placed in a permanent home. What makes it even sadder is that I wanted to adopt Lamin, but after chatting with social welfare in New Zealand, it became clear that it was impossible.

New Zealand has a lot of rules around who can adopt and where they can adopt from which is to ensure that children are protected from things like trafficking, but also to know they are truly orphaned when they are adopted into New Zealand. Currently there are only seven countries that New Zealanders can apply to adopt from, but the application criteria is very limiting and as a result currently only around 10 children get adopted from overseas each year. While the Gambian side of the adoption sounded straightforward, the New Zealand social welfare office shut down my plan immediately and said there was absolutely no way it could happen.

The main reason for it being so difficult for New Zealanders to adopt from overseas, is that they want to make sure that if possible, the child can be cared for by someone in their own country, so they can grow up in their own culture. While Lamin may technically be being brought up in his own country and culture, on his current life trajectory, I can guarantee it would be better if he was brought to the other side of the world to live with me.

It makes me really angry and upset that I can’t adopt Lamin or any other child from The Gambia, or basically any other country given New Zealand’s tough restrictions. It wasn’t always like this, but in recent years they have cracked down on their regulations. I understand the need for regulations, but I think it’s gone too far. There are children all around the world who are in desperate, dire conditions who need a loving family, and at the same time there are countless people wanting a child, willing to adopt, yet rules prevent it from happening. Children are literally dying while people back in New Zealand grieve over not being able to adopt. It’s actually disgusting.

I remember when I was on the phone with the social worker who told me, rather harshly, that it would be impossible for me to adopt Lamin. I was in a state of shock and she left me speechless, which is rare for me! I couldn’t believe it, that there was nothing I could do… How could that be possible, that there was nothing I could possibly do to bring this child back to New Zealand? Rich celebrities all around the world seem to do it, but not in New Zealand, or at least not these days. I don’t know if the people who make these rules have even been to a country like The Gambia and spent time with kids like Lamin and the millions of others like him around the world. Gaaaaah it makes me so mad!

Anyway, after seeing Lamin briefly, I spent some time with the babies too, helping the staff to change their nappies, feed them and give them lots of cuddles. In one room in the baby area, there were ten babies sleeping in seven cots, meaning some had to share. Once they are fed and have their diaper changed, sometimes the staff will play with them or hold them, but more often than not, they just put them back in their cots where they cry themselves to sleep. At one stage today, I was carrying two newborn babies, one on each shoulder, while the staff sat on their phones and did nothing. I know that they do work, but whenever I’m there, it certainly seems like I do much more work than they do. There are some staff that I can tell actually do care about the children, but for others it’s just a job.

About a month after I left The Gambia, my friend told me that she had visited the shelter on a Monday and discovered that no one had been in to see the children all weekend. No one. Not a single staff member showed up to feed them, change them, hold them… I don’t know how it is possible that no one could have noticed… But unfortunately, this had fatal consequences.

I don’t know what to do about it all. I cannot let children die in this place, but I don’t work there and I’m not a trained nurse or children’s worker, so I cannot tell them what to do. Even when I’m living here in The Gambia, I only want to visit the shelter once or twice a week, because I don’t want the staff getting so used to me being here that they rely on me. Even today, only two staff showed up. Two staff for 15 babies is not enough. Part of me wonders if I should start an orphanage of my own here, but then I remember that once again, I am not trained in that area at all! Also, I am only one person. It would take a whole team of people and plenty of funding to do that. Marian finds it hard enough trying to find good staff for Samaritana. Plus, life is hard here. It’s hot, I don’t speak the language. I don’t know the culture. Surely I would be better suited doing ministry back in New Zealand with people I can relate to?

But then I also think, if not me then who? Who is caring for these children? If I come back in another five years, what if these children are still there? Or even worse, what if there are more fatalities? I know it’s not my responsibility, but now that I know what goes on, how can I just go home and do nothing? Even if I was to fundraise and send them money, provide for their basic needs… No one is doing the most important thing which is loving these children. No one is cuddling them, holding them when they cry, pulling funny faces at them for a laugh. No one is praying for them, telling them about Jesus Christ and the hope we can have in Him.

Their situation is not just awful. It’s absolutely horrific. And I don’t know what to do about it.

The irony is that I’m not even a baby person! I’m not maternal, I don’t feel like I’m that great with kids. I love working with youth and young adults, but I’m not a natural when it comes to children. I’ve learnt how to work with them. But yet my heart is so broken for these children, many of whom I just met for the first time today. They are so small they can’t speak, walk or do anything for themselves. Who will stick up for them? Who will notice if they are hurt? They are some of the most vulnerable people in the world. I often wonder how many deaths go unrecorded and unnoticed in the shelter, because the children are orphaned or abandoned anyway… I know they don’t go unnoticed to God.

I don’t want to just complain about it or make other people feel sad by reading this. I want to make change, a real change. I just don’t know how.

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learningnewways · 7 months

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Week one

Week one has come and gone, and it has been better than I ever could have imagined.

Last year my first week was pretty rough. It thundered almost every night so loudly that it would shake the house, and even with headphones on and music pumping I could still hear it, which was very frightening. Of course, it is ridiculously hot here, so sleeping was already difficult without the added anxiety. At my accommodation, we would experience power outages that lasted days at a time. I also didn’t know anyone, I didn’t know how to get around, and overall it was just an awful first week. It did get better slowly, especially when I met Antonia at church, who had also just arrived and was finding it very hard.

This year, my first week was full of catching up with friends, making new connections and settling into my new accommodation. The heat is still extreme of course, but while the power goes off fairly regularly, it doesn’t stay off for anywhere near as long as my old accommodation, meaning I can sleep much better. The thunder is not as frequent and nowhere near as loud this time! Other than the thunder and extreme heat, the other main thing that had made my time so difficult early on in my stay last year was the isolation. I was staying alone on the compound and the only other person I knew was Marian. As the months went on, connection was still hard, especially when Marian went overseas for a month. There were no small groups at church to join and the only friends I made were other expats like the Swiss family and American family. I love being by myself and having alone time, but I also love having a strong community. When being alone is all you have, it gets very isolating.

Because of this, I had been praying for more connections over here this time. Perhaps a small group to join or some new friends. That’s the main reason I moved accommodation this time, as the place I live now also houses other volunteers from overseas. Well… God is good! And He has definitely provided for me! In the first seven days of being here, I attended four different evening Christian groups. FOUR!! As opposed to the zero I attended last year. I had a Sunday evening Bible study, a Wednesday night prayer service at church, a Thursday night fellowship meeting on my compound, and a Friday night youth and young adults church meeting. It was crazy! Is it a coincidence that these things were all happening the week I arrived? I think not. In fact, three out of these four meetings only began in the last week! Talk about timing! Praise God!

Another amazing thing about where I am living is the people I have met here already on the compound. There are many people living here that come and go, but there is a group of five of us who have connected and plan to hang out and meet for regular Christian fellowship. Amongst this group is a woman also called Kim! Cool name right? She happens to be my neighbour too, how funny! But you know what’s even funnier… Guess where she is from…? Yep, she is from little old New Zealand. Kim and Kimberly from New Zealand, in The Gambia?! What are the chances?! Again, God is definitely at work here and I think He has a sense of humour, given I have only ever met one other person from New Zealand in The Gambia.

Other than attending Christian groups in the evenings and trying to make connections here, I have also been visiting Marian at Samaritana and easing my way back into the work here. After my mild heat-stroke case on Monday, I tried to take it a lot slower for the rest of the week and look after myself. On Tuesday I focused on setting up my room. I shopped for cleaning supplies and basic groceries, cleaned out all the cupboards, unpacked my bags and familiarised myself with the local area. Since I am living in a different area, it will take time to figure out where my new go-to shops will be, so I spent a bit of time wandering around, checking what stores have and their prices.

On Wednesday after spending some time with Marian in the community library, we met with Danielle who had organised for us to have an afternoon prayer time. It was really nice to sit with these two women and spend time with God. It is something that Marian and I didn’t really do much of last year together, so having Danielle here to help lead that is really nice. We planned to meet for prayer regularly, particularly to support Marian in her challenging and demanding role.

On Thursday Marian and I visited the child welfare office to discuss our intentions of visiting the government shelter regularly. This is something that we did last year and even when Marian was away, I continued to visit once a week. The government shelter is where orphaned, abandoned and trafficked children live, and it was my favourite place to be last year. The stories of these children’s lives and how they live now are absolutely heartbreaking, yet I was able to learn so much about God and His love by spending time loving the most vulnerable.

Since I left The Gambia, there has been a change in manager at the shelter, so the new manager does not know us. We had a really good relationship with the previous manager who always warmly welcomed us in, however we now essentially have to start from scratch again with the new manager. When we went to the child welfare office, the person we were looking to talk to was not there, so we got their number off one of the staff and called them. They said we needed to write a letter explaining what we wanted to do, so that afternoon I spent time writing a letter asking for permission for us to visit, explaining all we had done in the past with the shelter.

I delivered the letter on Friday morning, but unfortunately, once again the person I wanted to speak with was not on site. I am really hoping and praying that they accept our request to visit the shelter as soon as possible, as it is the main reason I came back to The Gambia. While I enjoyed most of the work I did last year in The Gambia, once I got home it was the children in the shelter that I could not get out of my mind or heart. Knowing that they were still there while I was back home in New Zealand was devastating. The shelter is supposed to just be temporary, yet some of these kids have been living there their whole lives. So please pray that child welfare approves of our request so I can begin visiting the shelter and supporting the children there.

After my time at the child welfare office, we visited the office of an embassy for a country where many trafficking victims come from, to touch base with them. It is clear that Marian has been working hard to form connections with different organisations. After these meetings, I walked 30 minutes in the heat all the way to… IceLand, my favourite ice cream shop! Wahooooo! Luckily I managed to catch up with Q on the phone while I was walking, so it made the time pass a lot faster, but once I arrived I was a very sweaty mess! Sadly upon arrival, I discovered their ice cream was not ready yet, I had come too early in the day! Apparently people don’t tend to buy ice cream before midday? Uh… Well I do, obviously! Thankfully they had some out back that they could offer me, so I joyfully sat in their air conditioned shop and slowly ate my delicious ice cream. Yum!

On Saturday I walked with Kim, my fellow Kiwi, down to a cafe where we sat and talked for over five hours! Wow! We enjoyed the air conditioning and some yummy fries and I learnt about how she came to be in The Gambia and what ministries her heart is for. I chatted a lot about the challenges and disheartening things I struggle with in the area of sex trafficking and orphaned children, and she also has a heart for this which was amazing. Hopefully I can connect her to Marian as I’m sure they would do amazing things together in this area. Of course, being that it was Saturday, the elections had just happened back home, so we chatted about that too, as well as the rugby. Classic New Zealanders…

Overall, I have found people to be really welcoming, supportive and looking out for me this time, which is so nice. More so than I remember happening last time, but perhaps it is because people know who I am this time or maybe I am more open as I feel more confident? Either way, it is really nice. I don’t like walking alone at night over here as I’m not sure it is safe for me, so every time there has been an evening meeting, someone has kindly offered to walk with me. Often these people are strangers that I don’t even know but have been passed their details by someone at church because they are going to the same event, and they have all been so nice about it. Walking together is good too as it means more time for connection. I’m feeling like people are valuing me being here, even if just for a short amount of time. Thank you Lord!

Another thing I was hoping to find this time was an acoustic guitar, as I love to play and sing. I had looked online but couldn’t seem to find an affordable one anywhere. Well… It turns out that one of the other volunteers on my compound has access to one and is happy for me to borrow it regularly! Whaaaaat?! How cool! I played for an hour or so on Friday afternoon and it felt so wonderful to have a guitar. So awesome! Again, thank you God!

As you can probably tell, I am feeling much more positive after my first week than I was last year, which I am immensely thankful to God for. I think having been here before really helps as I am familiar with my surroundings and can confidently find my way around, but to have everything else go so smoothly, to connect with so many wonderful people… That can only be God!

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learningnewways · 7 months

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First 48 hours

Well! What a great first few days I’ve had in The Gambia! Such a stark contrast to last time I came, that’s for sure.

My flight arrived safely amidst a heavy downpour, but I didn’t notice at first because thankfully I was asleep when we landed at 1:30am. It was bucketing down as we got off the plane, and after waiting for an hour for my suitcases, praise the Lord, they both arrived! Unfortunately they were absolutely soaked, despite the fact I had glad-wrapped and duct taped my bags to prevent them from being damaged or broken into. My taxi driver was waiting for me and it felt like his car turned into a boat as we drove down flooded streets to my accommodation. Thankfully, we arrived safely and I was able to get into my room. Praise God! I know it might seem like not much to ask to arrive safely, but in West Africa, anything can happen with planes, taxis and the weather, so it really was a miracle for myself and my bags to arrive safely and on time!

The first thing I did at 3am was not to sleep, but to open my suitcases. My church back home had generously donated some money to my trip, which I used to purchase a whole bunch of books, games, craft supplies and other things to donate to the children I work with over here. I was worried that all of this would be ruined and wanted to try to dry them out as soon as possible. Well, much to my surprise, most of the things inside my bag were dry! Thankfully, I had lined my soft case suitcase with a large rubbish bag at the bottom and a sheet on top, so while the suitcase and sheet were absolutely soaked through, most of the contents were not. Again, praise God for that!

I was placed in a temporary room for a few nights until my permanent room became available, and I really enjoyed it! It was on the corner of the building so had two windows on each wall, making for an amazing cross-breeze, much needed here in the extreme heat! I had a better night's sleep the first few nights here than I did in my previous three months in The Gambia. Good sleep makes for a positive attitude! I wish I could have stayed in that room permanently, but it was not to be… However my new room is like a small open plan studio apartment, which has its own kitchen but shared bathroom, so that is nice to have my own space. I was eager to get my room and space set up so I can start to set up some routines for myself and feel more at home. However my new room is much hotter so I have not been sleeping as well since the move...

My flight arrived in the early hours of Sunday morning, meaning I could go to church! My new accommodation is only a five minute walk away from my church, which I am thrilled about, as it means I can attend more things there and feel more part of the community. Upon arrival, I was warmly welcomed back by people who, much to my surprise, remembered me! I sat next to my American professor friend Layne, who also lives on the same compound as me. I would often sit next to him at church last year, and we had a few good chats and even a board games night, but I didn’t know him super well. However it was so nice to see a familiar face and even nicer that he is living on the same compound as me. I’m sure we’ll get to know each other a lot more this time.

When my American friends the Reeds walked in, their jaws dropped as they saw me. I quickly ran over to them where I received massive hugs! It was so lovely to know they were just as excited to see me as I was to see them. After church we had a quick catch up and discussed how we need to hang out soon so we can make more cookies and eat ice cream. Uhhhh yes please!! After church I also met a girl from the UK called Danielle, who has worked with Samaritana before, which is the organisation I volunteer with. I’d heard so much about her last time I was here, but unfortunately she happened to be away the whole time I was here. So it was really nice to finally meet her and organise to catch up in a few days.

During the church service they have an open testimony time where anyone can come and share something God is doing in their lives. Well, I figured I should get up and thank God for His provision in getting me safely to The Gambia, so I did! The pastor was so pleased to have me back and everyone seemed excited too. One thing I have been praying for is a small group or Bible study to join, as last year they didn’t have any running. Well... God has gone before me and provided, because the day I arrived they were literally starting brand new Bible study groups! What are the chances?! I found out who was going to be running the one closest to me, which once again, is only about five minutes from where I live! Amazing! Talk about good timing!

I was so busy reconnecting with people and being greeted that I was one of the last people at church! Wow! Layne walked with me back to our compound and generously gave me a few groceries and drinks, since I didn’t have any yet. What a blessing! I came back to my room feeling so grateful to God for the warm welcome back to church and for new oppourtunites here. That night I went to the Bible sudy group and the discussion topic was all about spending time with God and making it a priority, which was exactly what I needed to be encouraged in. It’s been hard trying to maintain routines with my quiet time with God over the past month since I’ve been travelling so much, so I am very ready to build good routines and get back into it.

On day two, I managed to get local money out of an ATM and get my local sim card sorted. Having those two things makes me feel much better! After getting that sorted, I visited my good friend Marian at Samaritana, the organisation I volunteered with last year, who is so excited to have me back working with her. Unfortunately my warm welcome was warm in more ways than one... I hit the ground running a bit too hard and I got a mild case of heat-stroke. The temperatures here sit around 28-32 and do not drop any lower in the evening. However because of the high humidity, it feels 10 degrees warmer than it is. I will need to take things slower! This week my focus is to reconnect with friends from last year, settle into my accommodation and set up some good routines. I also need to try and pace myself as I slowly adjust to the heat!

It’s so fascinating to me how different my first 48 hours has been to last time… Last time I was so scared, did lots of crying, was super anxious and was like, “What the heck have I just signed up for?!” I wanted so badly to go home, as I was out of my comfort zone, alone and afraid. I am so thankful that this time I am feeling much more at peace, more positive, more settled. Of course that is to be expected, given that I’ve been here before, but it is still good to reflect on and appreciate the difference. I know it’s only been two days and the hard times are still to come, but praise God for an amazing first few days!

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learningnewways · 7 months

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Here we go again...

Well, here I am once again, sitting at another airport about to board my flight to The Gambia.

It feels different this time. Last time I was very scared, I’d say even in the top three times I’ve been the most scared in my life, heading into the unknown for three months. I was leaving everything I knew. My friends and the new life I’d set up for myself in Nelson, my cute wee house, my adorable cat, my ministries and people I cared so much about, and of course closing my business that I thought would be my career for the foreseeable future. This time I’m still scared, but more about the flights themselves and arriving safely. This time I know where I’m going, I know what to expect, and I know a few people, which makes getting on the plane a lot easier. I also have hindsight and past experience. I know that God is good. That He provided for me and was with me last time as He will be again this time.

When I got back to New Zealand after being in The Gambia last time, I didn’t know where I belonged anymore. I thought I would enjoy being back, but I didn’t. Not only had I just been living in a third world country and returned to the extreme wealth of Nelson and was trying to reconcile that, but I also had a falling out with my church leadership over my relationship status, which was very hurtful. I returned to the same house, but to no church family, no ministry, friends I felt I didn’t fit in with anymore, and no business to work in. It was quite difficult to say the least!

When I left New Zealand this time, it wasn’t as sad or as hard to go, as it felt like I wasn’t leaving as much behind. While I had settled back into some routines and friendships, I also felt like I was in limbo. I had this feeling, like I had to go back to The Gambia, but I didn’t really want to go. But I didn’t really want to stay where I was either. Other than building my relationships with Q and his kids, I didn’t really feel like my daily life had much purpose anymore. I missed having a great job to go to and ministries that I cared deeply about. Of course I wanted to throw myself into a new job and new ministries, but I felt like God was telling me to wait. In the end, it turned out He wanted me to go back to The Gambia.

I’ve just had a great month travelling around Europe visiting friends and volunteering with my dad, most recently we had a few days in the incredibly stunning Iceland of all places! But I’m ready to get stuck into my work in The Gambia. I’m not looking forward to the extreme heat though… Going from 4 degrees in Iceland to 34 in The Gambia!

I’m not sure how I will feel when I arrive in The Gambia, sometimes you don’t feel how you think you will. Right now I feel ready to go and do the work, to reconnect with people and to make the most of my time there. I know it will still be a challenge, but I’m hoping it won’t be as much of a challenge as last time!

I hope that this time I can grow in my relationship with God even more and build some good routines around spending time with Him. I hope I can be open to what He may ask me to do and to find opportunities to share His love with those around me.

The Gambia is a hard place to be, but it’s not the worst. There is an English speaking church 5 minutes down the road from where I’ll be living, I have access to safe drinking water, internet and shops, there's a cute dog I can take for walks, I have my own private room, there is an incredible gelato shop 10 minutes away, and I already have a few friends. It could be much worse! I’m hoping I can take a more optimistic approach this time and look for more positives in my situation.

Of course, the work I’m doing is still difficult, and the people I work with make my heart break. That is the hardest part really, other than the isolation... God breaking my heart for what breaks His... Then leaving me to try to reconcile their life and hardship with how the rest of the world lives. And figuring out what I’m supposed to do about it.

As the famous prayer goes… "God, Give me grace to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference."

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learningnewways · 7 months

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FastLane Ukraine

On my way to The Gambia, amidst travelling to some beautiful places, I have joined my dad for some road trips across Europe. He has been staying in The Netherlands for the past few months, volunteering with an organisation called FastLane Ukraine. He picks up donated humanitarian aid in The Netherlands, drives it to Poland where another organisation drives it into Ukraine, then he picks up refugees and brings them back to The Netherlands. Below is the recount of a road trip I took with him last week...

On Monday morning we drive to Mariah’s house, a volunteer with the organisation Help4Ukraine, where we load the van with aid. The organisation is run by Leo, who was born in the Soviet Union and still has family living in both Russia and Ukraine. He tells me that most of the volunteers are Ukrainian or have strong connections to Ukraine.

Help4Ukraine have volunteers that stand outside local supermarkets handing out flyers that ask for specific donations, which are then sent either by us or other means of transport into people and places within Ukraine that need it. Leo tells me it can be hard to find transportation for aid from The Netherlands to Ukraine as the cost is so high.

We load the van with banana boxes, each filled with a variety of humanitarian aid. Some boxes have food like pasta, couscous and other long-life items, some have sanitary products, whereas other boxes have baby food and nappies, and some even have pet food. There are so many boxes and it’s hard to know just how many people will be helped by our delivery, but it is an overwhelming amount of aid, all very well thought out and packaged.

Leo and Mariah are encouraged that we have come all the way from New Zealand to help. I know they really appreciate our help, as they expressed multiple times that transporting the aid is currently the hardest and most expensive part.

We also stop at the company Unilever to pick up a whole lot of donated products like soup, pasta sauce and salad dressing. It is incredible how much stock they have donated. I guess to a big company like Unilever it might not seem like much, but to us it is a huge amount that will go to a variety of people in need.

Once the van is fully loaded, our road trip begins! Day one involves driving around 900km which takes over 10 hours! Talk about a long day! One of the mirrors broke on our way to pick up the aid, so Tim tries to fix it with duct tape. Five stops later he gives up, meaning we only have one mirror to use, as we can’t see out of the rear-view mirror either.

It is my first time driving on the right hand side of the road, and having only recently learnt how to drive a manual, driving this big manual van full of gear in a new country, on the other side of the road sounded like a bit of a challenge at first! Surprisingly, the things I was worried might be an issue weren’t an issue at all, instead it was the steering wheel being on the left-hand side of the car that threw me off the most, as I didn’t know how to position myself in the lane. After an hour or so I had figured it out and was driving the local speed of 120km/h, something that I would never do back home!

After stopping for the night at the border of Germany and Poland, we drive another 700km or 7 hours to Chelm, where we deliver the aid to HelpUkraine at their warehouse which is only 25km from the Ukrainian border. We meet Victoria and other volunteers who help us unload the van, all of whom are from Ukraine. Most of our boxes are already labelled and packaged well, so they put them straight onto pellets ready to be sent into Ukraine. Our donated goods from Unilever are separated and will be packed into other boxes, rather than be delivered altogether. Unloading takes much longer than loading as they have to sort out where everything goes and check everything to save time in the long run by not double handling it.

Unfortunately as we unload the van, the team discovers that all the soup that has been donated is about to expire. They cannot take expired items through the border or customs will give them a big fine and confiscate it off them. After a bit of back-and-forth, we put the soup back into the van, aiming to deliver it to the shelter in Warsaw tomorrow. Once everything is unloaded, it’s hard to believe it all fit in the van as there are three pellet loads of food and aid! Wow!

From their warehouse, once everything is boxed and labelled, they typically pay a contracted trucking company to take a full truckload of aid into Ukraine. Sometimes they get vans such as ours with volunteers who take aid in, but mostly they get a truck every month or so as it is the most cost-efficient method. Some boxes are more general and some are addressed to certain families and people, so they get specifically what they need depending on their circumstances. Having all Ukrainian volunteers at their organisation means it is much easier on the logistics side of things too.

Victoria tells me that aid is slowing down as the war drags on, but help is still much needed, particularly for the upcoming winter months. Last winter, Victoria was still in Ukraine and said it was a very difficult time. There were often blackouts where they had no power. Even people who had back up generators said that they were not enough.

Sadly, we hear that in the city in Ukraine called Lviv where Tim delivered aid into a few weeks ago, a missile recently hit a humanitarian aid warehouse, which had about 300 tonnes of aid in it. Lviv is only 70km from the Poland border and is not a city often struck by missiles, however this week it was hit very heavily. It is devastating to hear of a humanitarian aid warehouse being hit, as it takes so much time and countless people playing their part to organise, collect, transport and deliver that much aid. We take roughly 2 tonnes in our van once a week, so 300 tonnes is like us driving to the border over 150 times, which would take nearly 3 years of weekly trips… There are also times when aid gets taken by rebel militia groups or others, and it does not end up where it is supposed to go, which is the sad reality of aid work.

We say goodbye to the team and head to our motel for the night, driving into Warsaw the next morning to pick up our refugees. Upon arrival we chat to Jack who runs the shelter and transit camp, explaining that we have some donated soup that is about to expire if he would like to have it. Well… Little did we know that in recent months their funding has been reduced significantly, meaning they are no longer receiving enough funds to feed the refugees that are coming through. Jack tells us that over 200 people are arriving each week and he has nothing to feed them. He explains that it has been his biggest problem for the last few months and he has been very stressed about it.

Well… It looks like God had orchestrated this one! As we unload the soup, it amounts to over 4 supermarket trolleys full of soup! And not your basic watered down soup-in-a-cup style, but healthy and nutritious, thick lentil soup. Jack is over the moon and cannot contain his gratitude and shock, calling it a “Godsend”. Absolutely!

We meet our group of 7 refugees which is made up of a mother and her two young adult sons, and four adult women on their own. Unfortunately only one of them speaks a little bit of English, so we have a bit of a hard time communicating or connecting with them. But charades, hand gestures and Google Translate seem to help! We drive again to the border of Germany and Poland, 500km or 6 hours, stopping for a KFC dinner which they all thoroughly enjoy.

The next morning we leave bright and early at 7:30am for our long day of travel. 800km or 8 hours. Now, I know a road trip across Europe sounds great, and I’m sure there are stunning road trips… But if I can be honest, our drive is quite boring! The sightseeing from Richmond to Motueka is 1000% more exciting than from Poland to The Netherlands! We are driving for hours and hours on long, straight, flat highways, with nothing much to see but some paddocks and the odd McDonalds or KFC. Not quite what I had imagined… Time seems to pass awfully slowly, particularly when you can’t communicate with your road trip buddies! But nevertheless, we are here to help, not for the scenery.

At around 5pm we finally reach the Red Cross shelter in Utrecht, The Netherlands. Here the refugees are processed and stay for a few days before going to a more permanent facility. We are not allowed to take any photos inside the shelter, but it is basically a giant warehouse where trade shows are held. Half of the space is used for sleeping and the other half is used for processing, eating and other activities. Everyone is fairly quiet as it is an open-plan space.

As we are about to leave, we find out that 3 out of 7 of the people we transported don’t have the correct documents. This has nothing to do with us as we are simply the delivery people, but it is still concerning. In Warsaw they get all their documents checked so we are only supposed to be taking people who are allowed to be in the Utrecht shelter, however something has been missed, meaning the mother and her two adult sons don’t have what they need. We are unsure what this means, but it is likely they will need to go back to Warsaw to sort out their documents before coming back.

We say goodbye and the women make heart shapes with their fingers and hug us. While we don’t speak the same language, it is clear they are grateful to us for what we have done. We use Google Translate to wish them well on their journey and off we go, back to our apartment for a well earned sleep.

Looking back over the trip, despite 90% of the journey being driving which can be rather boring, I can still see God’s hand over it all. From the fact that we arrived safely back in The Netherlands with no issues, to the volunteers we were able to encourage who are faithfully helping do their part at each step of the way, to the miracle of four supermarket trolleys of soup being delivered to the shelter in desperate need of food... While we only helped a small group of people with our trip back from Poland, our trip there with 2 tones of aid will help hundreds of people and families for weeks to come. Even just knowing that we are all the way from New Zealand and have come to volunteer and do what we can is encouraging for the Ukrainian volunteers. To know that someone cares and is willing to help. Perhaps flying halfway across the world to serve without reward is like our smaller, personal version of God feeding the 5,000 through us…?

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learningnewways · 8 months

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I'm Off On Another Big Adventure

Well, here I am once again in the San Francisco Airport. Although rather than having a flight cancelled on the tarmac and being stuck here for a few days on my way home to Nelson, I’m just passing through on my way to Amsterdam to begin my next adventure.

What is she doing this time?! That’s what most of you are probably wondering. The short answer is that I’m spending around a month in Europe, volunteering with an organisation who takes aid from Amsterdam to the border of Poland/Ukraine, then brings back refugees. My dad has been there for a few months, so I’ll be joining him for a few trips, while also doing a bit of travel by myself, meeting up with my friend Antonia in Germany and travelling together to Switzerland. After my time in The Netherlands, I will be heading back to The Gambia, where I will stay for the remainder of the year, all going to plan.

In The Gambia, I am going back to the same organisation where I was last year, although things will look quite different this time. Last time I was there, the local lady M who runs the organisation was overseas for a month, so I was left to hold down the fort. Not ideal when I’d only been there for a month when she left! Whereas this time she will be there the whole time, as well as the couple who started the organisation, who were only there for a few weeks last time. I’m looking forward to working alongside M, learning from her and encouraging her.

But what’s really underneath this adventure? Why am I really going back? Well, those are questions I have been struggling to answer in short sentences to curious people who ask... Basically ever since I got back to New Zealand, I’ve been struggling to find my place. I don’t fit in back home anymore and I don’t know if I want to. My heart feels too broken for the hurting and vulnerable in this world, just to sit back in my nice comfortable life back home and do nothing. Of course there are people back home who still need practical help and desperately need to meet Jesus. But it feels like there are already lots of cool organisations and ministries doing great things for the Kingdom in New Zealand, whereas there are not so many in places like The Gambia.

Recently I put on a screening of the new film Sound Of Freedom to fundraise for victims I will be working with in The Gambia. The film was incredible and was a great reminder of why I’m going away to do what I do, and definitely opened the eyes of many others as to what’s happening in our often cruel world. One of the lines the main character says when questioned about why he is sacrificing so much to rescue a girl he has never met is, “What would you do if it was your daughter?” I’m not a parent, but I definitely feel a sense of responsibility to my fellow humans, particularly women and children who are put in these horrific situations. If it was me, I’d want someone to fight for me, to see me, to love me, to rescue me.

Part of me knows that it’s not my responsibility to save the lost, that I’m not their saviour and I’m certainly not God. But another part of me knows that as a Christian, it actually is my responsibility to care for those in need. 1 John 3:16-18 says, “This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers and sisters. If anyone has material possessions and sees a brother or sister in need but has no pity on them, how can the love of God be in that person? Dear children, let us not love with words or speech but with actions and in truth.” Or as Brooke Fraser sings, “Now that I have seen, I am responsible, faith without deeds is dead.”

There are children in the government shelter I used to visit every week in The Gambia who will forever pull on my heart strings. I remember their little faces so nervous the first few times I visited, staying in the corner of their cots not wanting to come near me. But within a few visits, they would all smile and throw their hands in the air wanting me to touch them, to pick them up, to snuggle them and play with them. These kids have no family other than each other, and even then, they’re all in survival mode. These kids need people to love them and see them. They are some of the most vulnerable people in The Gambia who need protecting fiercely.

I have met girls who have been trafficked for sex, taken against their will or coerced into travelling to a new country under false pretences of work, just to be forced to have sex with or be raped by, a horrendous number of customers a day. How can I sit back and do nothing about it? Surely I ought to lay down my life, the comfortable life I’ve dreamed of and have been lucky enough to have, for the sake of my brothers and sisters?

Maybe that’s one of the biggest areas I have questions in and I wrestle with, going around and around in circles… I have my own desires of what I want for my life, a lot of which are not necessarily bad things. Yet when I read the Bible, I see more verses about dying to self than living for the desires of my own heart. That perhaps as we lay down what we want for ourselves and our lives, and as we align our hearts with God’s, that our desires become like His? So perhaps if your desire is to be a mother or father, to have a family, and His desire is to put the fatherless in families, then perhaps fostering or adoption might cross our minds as we draw closer to Him?

I guess a lot of the struggle with dying to our flesh and laying down our desires is that it comes back to trust. Do we trust that God truly has the best in store for us? That He knows what is beneficial for us in the long run, even if it hurts? Do we trust that His plan for our lives will be better than the one we’ve dreamed up? And let’s be real, His plan is unlikely to involve butterflies and rainbows, but rather grief and struggle. I want to believe that God has the best for me, but it’s hard to actually follow through on that sometimes. How can the best thing for me right now be to go back to The Gambia? To a place that was so difficult to live in? A place where I suffered? I don’t know… All I know is that I’m trying my best to be obedient to His leading and guiding, trusting He will use me in the ways He wants to, whether I like it or not.

So why am I really going back to The Gambia? Because I feel like that is where God wants me right now, and regardless of if that’s where I want to be or not, I’d rather follow Him than say no to His call. A quote by Jim Elliot I was given in a letter recently says, “He is no fool who gives what he cannot keep to gain that which he cannot lose.” I’m still getting my head around the quote, but I guess it can feel really difficult and heartbreaking to give up so much from my life back home, yet all of those things I cannot “keep” compared to God of eternity.

So as I journey again into the unknown, feel free to follow along and join the wrestle! If you’ve read my blogs before, you’ll know I dig deep.

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Beer Bar and KTV

On our final night with the team, they took us out to explore the night life, to places where they know underage girls are being sold for sex. Q and I had been out on our own a few nights and tried to keep our eyes peeled for anything dodgy.

We had seen a few bars and restaurants where there are girls dressed very skimpily, who hang around the men, hoping one will take interest. We saw one in particular where an older white man was eating with a local woman, who kept putting her foot on his crotch, and he would whisper things to her. Eventually they left the restaurant together. So we’d seen a little bit of that going on, but these were women who looked to be adults, not children or teenagers. Although we didn’t tend to stay out too late, so perhaps as the night went on, we may have seen more younger girls.

We also knew that most massage parlours double as places where you can buy sex, however every time we walked past one, they seemed so “normal” looking. My eyes would scan the employees and then I’d quickly check to see if there were any back rooms where other activities could be happening. It’s just so strange to think it happens right there. If you say the right words, you can get sex, but otherwise any normal tourist would think it’s just a massage parlour.

Our final night out with the team started at what they call a “beer bar”, which is basically a restaurant where they serve a lot of beer, and there are lots of girls. It was quite the sight to see when we arrived. There are many men outside, almost guarding the place, all wearing ear pieces that they used to chat between each other and staff. Then as you enter, right at the front door, you walk down a small alleyway entrance, and there on either side are lots girls just sitting there, around twenty of them, waiting to be chosen. They were young, most looked between 14-20, and they were all dressed to impress.

They smiled and giggled as Q and our local team’s guys walked in, but looked a bit confused when I followed behind! Typically women don’t come to these places, unless they’re already with a man or perhaps are tourists, which technically, we were, so it didn’t look too strange. It would’ve looked like we were just out to dinner and drinks with our local friends. Well, apart from the fact that neither Q or I drink alcohol, so that probably looked a bit weird! Most customers are men or groups of men, who come to drink and have sex. That’s what the table next to us were there for.

The table next to us had four men, and as the night went on, they chose different women to come sit with them. They can choose from the long line of girls waiting at the entrance, or they can choose the waitresses. They chose the waitresses. It’s their job to keep the drinks coming, and to please the customers at any price. The waitresses must drink with customers if they ask them to, and must join them at the table if called upon. It seemed like each man chose his own woman, who once chosen would flirt with the man, wrap her arms around him, drink with him, and touch his upper thighs. The men are also free to slap the women’s butts, grab the women, basically whatever they want to do. They also have little rooms off to the side from the main eating area, where men can take the girls.

It was fascinating watching this all happen so casually right next to us. Meanwhile at our table, our waitress was just kind of standing around awkwardly, once she realised we weren’t there for sex. It was crazy how often they would top up the drinks with more alcohol though. As soon as a glass had a little drunken from it, they would top it straight up. I guess the more alcohol consumed, the more sex is bought? Our team were doing a bit of scouting out, just watching everything and trying to get an idea of how many underage girls might be here.

Typically the team would go in and pretend to be customers, so they’d choose a few girls and drink with them, build a bit of a friendship, but not actually have sex. Instead they’d organise to meet up with a girl another day, and once they are alone, they can explain what they do and how they can help. It’s a bit too risky trying to explain it in the restaurant where the girls boss or pimp is, but if they act like a normal customer then people are less suspicious.

While we were there, our waitress asked one of our team if they’d like a girl. He said he’d like a young one, which they said they could call in. He told them maybe next time, that he was just out to dinner with friends today. It was literally that easy. All he had to do was say he wanted a young girl and they could call one for him... I guess it makes sense that the really young girls wouldn’t necessarily be out the front with all the rest, because they’re in a class of their own, for many different reasons.

Young girls are more likely to be kidnapped, trafficked, or forced against their will into the sex trade, compared to teenagers or young adults who may get into it themselves because of poverty or other issues. Younger girls are more sought after and liked by customers, which is really gross, but it is a reality. People will pay bigger bucks for girls that are fresher, younger, more scared, perhaps even virgins. Because of their special status, they are kept more hidden and are brought to the customers on request. Not all places are like that, some will have younger girls out in the public, but you can understand if they are there against their will, they need to be kept somewhere safe, not where they could just run away.

Any of the women and girls can be hired out, for as little as an hour, a night, to as long as a week, or even longer. Typically they will be hired for an hour or so, taken away by the customer to their car or a nearby hotel, do whatever they want, then they drop them back at the beer bar, ready for their next customer. Other times they might take them for a night, perhaps if they want more of the “girlfriend experience” with talking and kissing, rather than just sexual acts. The girls that get hired for a week will typically be the virgins. And just because someone hires them, it doesn’t mean that they’re the only one who will exploit them, they can take them anywhere, do anything. It’s quite scary.

Richer men even sometimes have their own girl or girls to be their personal sex slaves. They will pay for their room, food and clothes, in return for sex. Like what we would call a “sugar daddy” I guess. But as the months go by, the man will pay the girl less and less, as he finds other girls to hire. And these men typically have wives and children already. That’s a lot of life admin! I wonder if their wives know, and the sad reality is that they probably do know, but can’t do much about it. Their husbands are powerful people, they could be government officials or policemen...

After our time at the beer bar, we headed to a KTV, which is a karaoke club. While they have some family friendly KTVs, most are aimed at men, and are well known as places to find sex. Similar to the beer bars, as you enter a KTV, there are a long line of women waiting to be chosen. As we walked in, the girls literally said to our team, “pick me, choose me”. If they don’t get chosen, they don’t get paid. When I walked in they said to Q, “why did you bring your girlfriend?” as they are not used to seeing women here, and know that if I’m here, he won’t be buying any of them!

Although we walked past maybe forty to fifty girls just on the way to our karaoke room, the team told us that this particular KTV which is quite popular, has around 250-300 girls in it. It was an astonishing number... The building was huge, and we only walked a few metres in to our room. I asked our team where the other few hundred girls are, and they said they would be with other customers or already been “booked”. Once again, we passed mainly older looking girls out front, but you can book younger girls, as many as you want.

Once chosen, they join guests to sing karaoke, drink, and do whatever the guests want them do. The KTV girls are generally seen as better than the beer bar girls, as they need to be able to sing and entertain the men, rather than simply flirt and drink alcohol. While the karaoke itself was really fun, it was super eerie knowing that just outside our room was a whole line of girls, waiting to be chosen. It was an interesting experience, and I didn’t quite know what to do as I walked past the girls. I had to pretend I was there are a tourist, not someone who cares passionately about the issue of child exploitation and sex trafficking... And as a woman, walking past these women, knowing that our lives are so different, wondering what they think of me, wondering what they think I think of them... It was really odd.

It was also very scary to see just how easy it is for a local or foreign man to get access to a young girl, for the purpose of sex, with no consequence. Everyone in the beer bars and KTVs know that is what customers are there for. Everyone plays their part in allowing it to happen... I don’t get it. How can people value children and sex itself that little? I wonder about the girls lives, their families, friends, boyfriends, what they do in their spare time, where they live... What do their friends and family all think about it? Does no one see it as an issue? Like paying for sex with a child is normal?

It’s very confusing, and makes me continue to wonder how we stop the demand for people buying sex, particularly with children? Having sex with another adult who is consenting and choosing that as a job, is very different to a vulnerable child who is being exploited... Yes, we just continue to rescue girls and give them a better life, but also, how do we stop customers from existing? How do we change their ideas and values? How do we get people to value healthy, consensual sex between two adults, and stop wanting to have sex with vulnerable children?

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Church Visit

This week there was another public holiday... Two in one week?! Yep, it’s a bit crazy... It feels like we just start building momentum with joining the team and then there’s another day off or it’s the weekend... It’s frustrating but there’s not much we can do about it. Over the weekend, I tried to join in with as much as I could, so on Saturday I went to a university Bible study that one of the Destiny Rescue team volunteers for, and on Sunday we did a tour of the children’s ministry and community campus at ICF.

I felt honoured to join the Bible study, which is run by International Fellowship of Evangelical Christians (IFEC), which in New Zealand is called Tertiary Students Christian Fellowship (TSCF). This particular study was for a group of student leaders who lead their own small groups around campus. It was nice to be together, particularly with other young women, to worship and learn new ways of sharing the gospel. They asked me lots of questions and I was able to be an encouragement to them, which was awesome. I felt very welcomed and like I was part of the team. It’s really surprised me how open, friendly and welcoming the locals are here in Cambodia. I’ve found it so much easier to connect than in The Gambia, that’s for sure.

On Sunday morning we got up bright and early, and headed to ICF (International Christian Fellowship). They are the church we visited last Sunday, who started the Wake Park next door. We were joining their tour, which meant we got to see all parts of what they do on a Sunday morning, walk through all the facilities, join in some activities, and learn more about their work throughout the week. It was incredible! (A word you’ll see me use many times in this blog post...) The campus is absolutely stunning and it’s hard to believe they have accomplished so much in only ten years. It was a morning full of awe and inspiration.

The focus of the tour was on children’s ministry, which happens on Sunday mornings. We started our tour by jumping on their church trucks, which drive around nearby villages, picking kids up and bringing them to the church. I couldn’t believe it... They sent out around ten trucks, all in different directions, and most came back full of children. I was partnered with one of the church’s many social workers, and we stopped at about ten stops, picking up kids as young as toddlers through to intermediate age. As we approached the stop, kids would be waiting for us, some of them literally jumping up and down in anticipation! It brought tears to my eyes seeing the kids so excited for church. Others would sprint towards the truck as it tooted on arrival. Children chatted away and laughed on the trucks as we drove back to the church, where they were unloaded and signed in.

Around 350 children come to ICF on Sunday mornings, either making their own way to church or being picked up by the village trucks. That’s a lot of kids! Bigger than a lot of schools! The whole morning was so well organised and ran so smoothly, it was amazing, I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Once the kids arrived, they were given a light snack of bread, fruit and a drink, then they got to have an hour of free time. All around the campus they set up numerous activities from rock climbing to football, hair washing and first aid, to musical chairs and art. So many activities for the kids to choose from and wander between. There was such a good mix of practical things like hair washing and cutting, as well as fun games and crafts.

After their hour free time, the bell rings and the kids go into the main room where they have big moveable stadium seating. The kids do worship and listen to a sermon, maybe watch a live drama or video, and have a game up front. Once the talk is over, they go out into their small groups where they chat about what they learnt in the talk and pray together. Then they all get feed lunch, which is quite the operation! It was so well organised and all went surprisingly quickly and smoothly. Incredible! After lunch the kids go inside for a bit of a wrap up, before heading home on the trucks.

While kids church is on, across the road at the Wake Park is the adults service, which is in Khmer, the local language. There is a Khmer and English service that runs at night, which we went to last week, as well as a youth service on Saturday nights. The whole operation is mainly run by volunteers, over a hundred of them! These volunteers are mainly youth aged and local. They also have all the ICF staff there, including social workers, outreach team, campus staff, educators and maintenance staff, and there’s around a hundred of them too. There is a lot of staff and volunteers, but their community reach is staggering.

While there, we got to walk around the entire campus and learn more about what they do during the week, which was again, incredible! We talked to the head of their social team, who explained the life changing work they do. If families in nearby villages meet certain conditions, such as lack of income, education, basic needs, illness, vulnerability...etc, they can become part of ICF’s program. The team of around 50 social workers, all locals, have about 25 families each that they work with in this program, which makes up 1,250 families, or between 7,000-10,000 people in total. That’s crazy! These social workers spend every day visiting families in their homes, providing support for physical, mental and spiritual needs, hosting small groups, running after school programs... All at no cost for the families. It’s mind blowing.

During the week, the church puts on a free after school program that any child can attend, but they do have to find their own way to the campus. Around 120 kids come every day. The after school program has educators that specialise in Khmer, English, Maths, Music, Art and Bible Studies, and children get to choose two classes to attend each day, which run for around an hour. I believe the children also get fed, but I’m not 100% sure on that. The facilities were epic, so well thought through, planned and executed.

It fascinated and astounded me just how many kids came every Sunday and throughout the week, it absolutely astounded me! In a country that’s over 90% Buddhist, it’s interesting that families here are so open. They are well aware that their children are going to a Christian program and that the social workers helping them are Christians. There is no pressure for the families to themselves become Christians, although of course many do over time. In all the work I’ve seen with Destiny Rescue and ICF, the local people seem overwhelming fine with Christians sharing the Gospel with their Buddhist children. I’m not sure the same could be said for the Muslim dominated Gambia... I think the success is in the way ICF provides such holistic support and is in the community so frequently. They have become a trustworthy and safe place in the community for so many years.

With staff numbers of around 120 and a community reach of close to 10,000 people, I can’t express enough how incredible and inspiring the work of ICF is. And ICF Cambodia has only been around for ten years, with the social team starting seven years ago. Yes, they are bank rolled, with mainly European donors and partner churches funding the 1.5 million NZD per year it takes to keep it running... But our churches in New Zealand spend around half a million a year, hiring only roughly ten staff and reaching maybe 1,000 people? Sure, wages and living costs are much cheaper over here, but man, their local community sure is the focus! And although I’m seeing them now in all their glory, they didn’t start out that way. They were just a normal church plant with missionaries who saw a need and filled it.For things to function so smoothly on a large scale, their systems and processes must be top notch and scalable. You can’t reach that many people effectively without good organisation and communication! They have details on every child that comes to them, files on how many social visits they’ve had, food parcels received, medical checks done...etc. They build such strong and genuine relationships that if a kid is missing for even a few days, someone notices and can quickly check in on them. I’m super organised and admin strong, and it made me say “wow” many times over!

The church has around 20 non-local staff, so foreigners who mainly raise their own funds to be there voluntarily, like most missionaries. We had a lovely American girl Amber showing us around, who’d been there for about three years. We talked about the work of Destiny Rescue and how inspired we were by ICF. Amber is also passionate about human trafficking and hopes to move into that work more specifically over time, but since being with ICF she has realised that their work in the community IS preventing human trafficking. They are so well connected with families, that they catch children who are vulnerable and at risk before they are in danger. They also run seminars that help to educate and prevent exploitation, as well as their sponsorship and after school program which supports education... It really is wrap around support.

ICF Cambodia do so much, is actually a bit overwhelming and unfathomable. I’ve travelled around the world, seen many ministries across New Zealand, and I’ve never seen anything quite like it. Honestly! They cover almost everything you could think of, and if they don’t, they’re working on it! They are extreme visionaries and problem solvers, who get stuff done! I hope and pray they plant more churches with the same community focus in countries that really need it. The Gambia perhaps?

It’s hard not to think of ideas for The Gambia constantly... But also my brain isn’t sure how realistic many things are, particularly when there’s minimal Christians to help run things, zero funding, and a strong Muslim culture who at best kicks children out of families for converting to Christianity... Some ideas are transferable and others aren’t. I wonder what my place is in all of this... As I approach my final week in Cambodia, I can’t help but think about my future. Am I the link between Destiny Rescue and The Gambia? Or even ICF and The Gambia? Am I to support an already existing ministry, or to start my own? Am I even supposed to go back to The Gambia, or stay in New Zealand, bringing new energy and fresh ideas? I don’t know... But I know all my experiences, learnings, challenges and passions can’t be for nothing. Nothing is wasted in God’s Kingdom.

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Village Visits

Another day, another village visit! Destiny Rescue do a lot of preventative and follow up work, which means lots of visits to girls homes in their villages. Some of these are girls who they have rescued or helped to leave the sex work industry, some are rape cases, and some are prevention for girls who haven’t been exploited yet, but are vulnerable and at high risk. This could be because of family circumstances, poverty, lack of education or other reasons.

So how do the team find the girls they work with? If they have been trafficked or are underage and in sex work, often they will be found through undercover operations such as working with local police or going into bars and massage parlours pretending to be customers. Once they get the girls alone, they can explain who they are and offer to help get the girls out. A lot of the other work is done in villages or by girls passing the team information to their friends. The team have workers who go into villages and talk to girls and families, as well as village chiefs, building a better picture of who is must vulnerable, often interceding before the girl ends up in the sex trade.

We visited a teenage girl the team has been working with for awhile, this time at her workplace. She works in a sewing shop, sewing handmade items. The team explained that she only makes money if she sells something. Other days she won’t make any money because she won’t be selling anything. Typically people come to the shop, choose the material and style, then she makes it for them. It might take a day or two to make an item, which she would receive maybe $3-5NZD for. Because like many others living in poverty, her income is uncertain, the team sometimes provides money or brings groceries to help out. They follow up with girls very regularly at the beginning when they first meet, depending on their circumstances, but as time goes on and the girls make good progress, they can follow up less frequently. However it’s amazing to know they still visit girls and their families years later, so they can show they still care and can support if circumstances change.

A few days ago we visited another teenage girl at her home in the village, which was the first time the team had met the girl in person. The team had been working with her friend who told us about her. This girl lives on the same property as her uncle and nephews/nieces, who she helps look after. Her parents work far away so they are not around to take care of her physical needs, let alone her emotional needs. The girl was very depressed with very low self esteem and self worth. Her parents have left her, people at her school don’t like her, and she is struggling to survive. Luckily, the team were able to encourage and pray with her. They were able to practically help with financial aid, but also with emotional and spiritual support. This girl needs people in her life to show up and show her she is loved and cared for.

Being able to pray for her with the team was really special. Not all those the team helps become Christians, but many do. It is an amazing witness and opportunity to share the gospel, give practical help, and show them they are loved beyond measure. Many of the girls ask the team why? Why do they do this work? Why do they love them and support them, when they don’t even know them? Because Jesus first loved us. The team aren’t just telling the girls that God loves them, they show it every day in their work.

It reminds me of volunteering with Red Frogs, a Christian organisation that demonstrates God’s love for young adults and builds connections by giving out pancakes, water and red frog lollies at big events, in town at nighttime, in university halls...etc. I was helping out with Red Frogs after Bay Dreams in Nelson this year, which is a big music festival where lots of alcohol and drugs are consumed. We set up in town where everyone was heading to party the night away and we gave out free pancakes and water. It was amazing watching people’s responses, they couldn’t believe we were giving out food for free. Why would someone do that? Why would we volunteer our time at 2am in the rain to feed intoxicated people? Because Jesus loves them. And we got to tell them about a love that calls us to action, to love others. It was that simple.

When we do something for others from the genuine love in our hearts and genuinely expect nothing in return, people don’t know how to respond! People aren’t used to it! I think as Christians, the more we understand and know God’s love for us, the more we want to help others, without an agenda. What if we just loved people and didn’t expect them to come to our church services in return? Or to listen to our gospel message or take home a pamphlet? What if we just lived out the gospel? Showed others we genuinely love them and care, and wait for them to ask why?

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Miracle Worker

After our days of being tourists, we were very excited to be back with the team. To get back out there, to work, to learn...etc. ...And then we got a message saying that it was a public holiday today and so the team wouldn’t be working! ...What?! I couldn’t believe it... I spent most of the day feeling VERY frustrated and grumpy. I didn’t come here to be a tourist! I came here to learn about Destiny Rescue! I’m sure God’s just laughing at me, telling me to relax...

Annnnyway, the next day we went to the office and met the rest of the team, joining them for their weekly devotion. We shared praise reports and prayer requests, and Q lead the team in a worship song. It was great to gather together, to see the office and meet the team. The only person missing is the Country Director who is American and is currently back home in the States. The remainder of the team are local and it’s been great connecting with them.

We went with V back to the church family’s slum house we had visited the previous week that Q was going to help fix up with a building project. We’d been to visit the week before, met the family, prayed with them and talked about what work was needing to be done. We’d been to the hardware store and priced up the building materials and Q had drawn up a plan. While the team were away at their conference, we really wanted to get stuck into the project, but we needed a translator, so it wasn’t possible. We were frustrated it couldn’t happen that week, as it would’ve been the perfect project while the team were away. Q even had dreams about the building project he was that excited about it! I was keen for the locals to help with the practical building side of it with Q, because even though they said he was an answer to their prayers, I hate the idea of white people coming in and fixing everything. Also, involving locals means they’ll learn the skills and know what to do next time it needs fixing.

On our way to the house to do final measurements before purchasing building materials, V told us that the family had received a miracle. The local village Chief had donated some building supplies for their house. We were excited but didn’t think much of it... Then we arrived... We could not believe our eyes... The whole house had been torn down and a completely new, much larger home was being built. We stood in shock, jaws open, in awe. As we got closer to the house, we could see the family all there, some sharing a meal while others worked on the house. The grandmother of the family was beaming. Her adult sons were all working together on the building of the house, and it was an epic build!

Q, V and I just stared in awe for a long time, laughing in shock. We absolutely couldn’t believe it. Just a week ago we had visited this family, who had been praying for help with their house, which was a slum shack essentially. We came, saw the house, heard what they wanted us to fix, and made a plan. Well, God had other plans! His plans were far bigger and better than ours! Classic God. There’s no way we could have afforded to build them a completely new house, and to be honest, Q would have really struggled to build anything in this heat! But here in front of us, was a family, proudly rebuilding their own home, with materials donated to them. It was incredible. The family knew it was a miracle and thanked us so much for our prayers.

It was a very good lesson in God having much better plans than we have. That His plans often look totally different to ours. A complete rebuild of the house? Bigger and better? It hadn’t even crossed our minds. We were just here to fix and strengthen the floor! And to see all the family working together on their own home, knowing the pride and hope they must feel in doing so... It was amazing! The little girl in the family we had met saw me and came straight up to me, grabbing my arm. She got closer and closer, hugging me and clinging to my side. She barely looked at me last week when we visited! But I think she knew the connection between us praying, and her family receiving a brand new house. I hope she knows it wasn’t us at all, but her Heavenly Father who sees her, loves her, and knew what was best. It truely was a miracle! An answer to their prayers. It is also a great witness to others in their community, as this family prayed and believed for help with their house.

Ironically, or not so ironically, in our morning devotion with the team, Q had lead us in the song Way Maker. The lyrics in the chorus are this: “Way maker, miracle worker, promise keeper, light in the darkness, my God, that is who You are.” Singing those lyrics, we had no idea about the miracle that had already happened and was happening with that family. He made a way, He did a miracle, literally lighting up their darkness. Only now writing this blog, did the connection come to my mind. Wow. That song will definitely hit different next time I sing it...

Recently I spent time at Eastercamp in Christchurch, a Christian youth camp where thousands of teenagers gather over Easter, camping, worshipping and learning. One speaker talked about God tearing down our houses, as a metaphor for our lives and how He creates a new life inside of us. He explained that people often think that means God wants to paint the walls a different colour or maybe knock down a wall or two. But actually, God wants to get right down to the foundations, tear them up, and build a completely new house. Because He is not building a home just for us, but a palace, a temple where He can live and dwell inside of us. He wants to knock down everything and build on new foundations, if we let him. I loved that analogy and I feel like in the slum house, I saw that analogy come to life.

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Down Time

Over the last few days, the Destiny Rescue team have been away in Thailand at a conference, meaning we had a few days to ourselves to explore the city.

Q and I are both high achieving personalities who like to be busy, so when we realised we had a few days without the team and therefore without any work, we were frustrated. We didn’t know when we booked our flights that they were heading away, so of course lines like, “I paid x amount of money to be here to serve and learn, not to be a tourist!” went around in my head. Sure, a holiday is nice, but that’s not why I came here at all. But alas... The team was gone and we had no option, so we tried to enjoy it and learn more about their city and culture.

We spent a lot of time wandering the streets, eating out, finding markets and food stalls, and just generally exploring. As a foreigner, everywhere you go, people are calling out to you, “Lady, you wanna buy something?” “You come see my shop, I give you nice price...” “You want TukTuk?” In the markets, it seems like every shop sells the same things, so it’s hard to know who to buy from. I went into a few stalls and had a look around, ending up buying things I didn’t need... There were two times I was buying things and the ladies selling clothes said they hadn’t had any customers yet, that I’d be their first sale of the day. Of course that makes you want to buy because you feel sorry for them! But it’s hard to know if it’s true or not. It could be genuinely true, or it could be a sale tactic to pull on the foreigners heart strings. The further into the market you go, the more believable it is. On the street front, I think they would get many customers, whereas deep inside the market maze, I wonder how many people actually buy things.

Generally the people here are super kind and friendly, which is nice. I always chat with the hotel staff who know me by name. Q says I’m their favourite and he’s probably not wrong! I can’t imagine many people would take the time to get to know the hotel staff. But then most guests only stay for around three nights and we’re here for three weeks! So much more time to build relationships. I’m sure they’re confused as to why we’re here for so long and what we are doing. I ask them about their lives and make little jokes with them which they love. Whenever I walk past they say, “Hello Kimberly,” but they don’t say hello to Q, which I think is funny. They say hello, they just don’t call him by name, and I doubt they know many other hotel guests names. You get out what you put in I guess!

One day we found a line of street food stalls and got chatting to the lady who runs one. She was so lovely! I asked her about her business, lifestyle and family. She works very hard, working long hours and barely having time for her children, but she works hard to provide for them. She makes more money doing her own business than being employed my someone else, which she likes, as well as the independence and flexibility. Another day we went to a local cooking class which was so much fun. I love doing cooking classes overseas as you get to meet more people, you’re supporting local business, learning about their culture and food, and of course, you get to eat delicious goods! It was a bit of a drive out of the city, so it was nice to see the countryside too.

On Sunday we went to ICF church, which is a campus or church plant from the ICF movement, which started in Switzerland. It’s funded from Swiss donors and you can deeeefinitely tell! Swiss money goes a lot further overseas, particularly in poor places like this. Their facilities are next level crazy impressive. The main structure has a massive steel roof at about 15 metres high, 30 metres wide by 60 metres long, it is crazy big. The building is half open on all sides and half closed off. The closed off part is where they have church and when you walk in you feel like you’re in an American church with lights, cameras, smoke machines...etc. Their evening adults service was in both Cambodian and English, with the pastor being from Switzerland. Then the other more open part of the building is used for eating meals after the service, and even has... Wait for it... Q’s favourite part... A rock climbing wall! It was epic! And that’s just the main building, then they have offices, classrooms, football fields, a ninja warrior course over a man made lake... The list goes on.

Right across the road from the church is the ICF Wake Park, which again is hard to explain. Honestly, just Google or YouTube it. It’s nuts! It is so impressive and crazy and would’ve cost so much money to set up. It has a restaurant and man made beach section, as well as the actual wake park. Jaw dropping, that’s for sure. ICF only planted the church ten years ago and they’ve accomplished so much. It is truely inspiring. Seeing all that ICF did gave me heaps of ideas for The Gambia, and made me realise you can do almost anything if you have heaps of funding. Then I remembered I have no funding... Haha. So back to the drawing board! We got chatting to a staff member after the service and she invited us to come back sometime for a tour of the property and to hear more about what they do, which we are pumped for!

During our downtime, in the evenings we visited the city’s Pub Street, where there are lots of restaurants, loud music, and of course, pubs! It’s where most foreigners go to party the night away, however there is a much sinister side to it. A lot of girls sell themselves or are forced to sell themselves to men in the pubs. It looks different for every pub and every girl, depending on their age and the situation of course. But we saw a lot of ��bar girls” as they call them, who wait in the pubs and flirt with the men before taking them out back or the men taking them away. From what we could see they were mainly women, but I know there are underage girls there as well, probably more hidden from view. They also have countless massage places, which also act as brothels essentially. They look just like massage parlours out front, but out back they offer more than just massages, and with younger girls too.

Overall it has been a great few days, but even still, my personality just wants to be out doing something worthwhile. I want to help the bar girls, not just walk past where they work. Of course being here for a few short weeks, I can’t “do” all that much to help, but I can shadow the team and learn a lot from them. It’s frustrating to come all this way and get straight into it, then be stalled for a few days. I just want to make the most of every opportunity, learn, information gather and support wherever I can. Not be a tourist. I wonder what God is trying to teach me... I mean, I’ve still learnt a lot from just chatting with locals, and definitely ICF got me excited. But I am looking forward to being back with the team tomorrow, for whatever they’re doing!

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Second Day

After a busy first day meeting the team, we had a much shorter day today, visiting a local church and a family from that church who live in a slum.

There are 11 people living in their tiny house, which is essentially a shack. The house would probably be around 15m2, all one open room with bedding, clothing and cooking equipment altogether. Children sleep on the floorboards or under the house on hammocks, as the house is built on poles since it floods in the rainy season. They share a toilet with many other families, so around 50-70 people. People “shower” with no privacy, it really is communal living. It was humbling to be invited into their home and to see how they live. It felt like I was in the movie Slumdog Millionare, but Cambodian version, sitting in their tiny shack with a tin roof and a communal toilet.

It’s interesting to be back in a third world country, walking through slums and meeting locals. It’s hard to see how they live, knowing there’s not going to be change anytime soon. Children sleeping altogether on mouldy floorboards next to rubbish and mud, very vulnerable to sickness and exploitation. It’s also hard to know what to do to help, to provide support that is actually helpful and going to change lives positively. Giving handouts is seldom a good thing and given that we’re here so short term, quality relational work is also a bit difficult. Luckily, Q used to be a builder, so he is proving to be very helpful over here. The team knew Q’s skill set, and knew this family’s home, or shack as we would call it, needs some work, so we’ve organised for him to help out.

While we were visiting with them, looking at what needed to be done and hearing about their family, they asked us to pray for them. I honestly didn’t know what to say, and just looked over at Q giving him the, “this ones all yours” look! The family are Christians too and when you see the way they live, their circumstances and how despite all of that, they are faithful to God, it makes you feel pretty stink about your own faith or lack there of. When they asked us to pray for them, you could tell they were so excited to have white people praying for them. Even though they spoke no English so couldn’t understand our prayers. It felt weird to be seen as somehow more spiritual or qualified to pray for them than others, as we are no better than them. Perhaps it was simply that people saw them as people worth caring about that made them happy? They said they had been praying for help with their house and that we were an answer to prayer. Wow. That was incredible.

The temperature over here is around 35-40 most days, so their little house was very hot, even with the fan on. Only around 20% of homes in the villages have aircon or refrigeration of any sort, and power itself is super expensive. In both homes we visited, they turned on the fan only once we arrived. Most houses we’ve seen have connection to power or solar panels for charging phones and operating fans. It’s so interesting that everyone has cellphones and dresses so nicely, yet live in such hard conditions. It was the same in The Gambia. You’d never know their living conditions based on their appearance. When they’re in the slums and villages it does look like it, but when they go out, they put on their best clothes and look just like everyone else. I was even surprised by S’s standard of living, because when we first met he had such a nice backpack and what looked to be a brand new shirt, it was so clean and tidy.

After our visit to the family, we went to a hardware store to source building materials so Q can fix their flooring, as it is rotting and uneven. Q is very happy to have a practical way of helping out here. Not sure how helpful I’ll be with the project... I guess I can measure things... I’m surprised by the lack of English spoken here too, with only around 20% of the population speaking English. In The Gambia, almost everyone knows English, especially the younger generation. But over here you have to pay more to go to an English speaking school. To find such a highly tourism reliant city where the next generation don’t speak great English is fascinating.

It was a short day but still an important one. I always really appreciate visiting locals and seeing how they live. It reminds me of the excess I have and how much further our money goes over here. I know that going into locals homes is rare, that most Westerners and tourists don’t get that opportunity to see the reality of life. We are looking forward to getting stuck into this project, although the heat will be a big challenge!

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learningnewways · 1 year

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First Day

I stepped off the plane in Cambodia to oven-like heat, excited for what the next few weeks would hold. After a day of settling in and wandering around the nearby streets, we got straight into it.

We met with V, a local who will be our point of contact during our time here. We went to a local cafe with him and another worker S, where we talked all about the organisation and the work they do. We heard crazy stories like being in a car chase, being followed around town by traffickers, as well as heartbreaking stories like parents raping and selling their own children. We discussed the common types of trafficking in Cambodia and how it is a very corrupt country. How when an internationally trafficked child is rescued in Cambodia, they are treated as someone who has illegally entered the country and put in jail while they wait to go back to their country. International traffickers are treated the same and when there are female pimps or traffickers, it’s possible that the trafficker and the trafficked child could be placed in the same holding jail... Crazy... It became clear early on that while we are here to learn lots from the team and serve in whatever way we can, we are also here to encourage them. The work they do is physically, emotionally and spiritually draining. They need all the support and prayer they can get.

After our long chats in the cafe, we drove out to a village to meet with a girl they are working with. The organisation works with children who are exploited sexually, but also works in villages and alongside families to prevent children from getting into the sex trade. This girl was one the team had done preventative work with, helping her family to find suitable work so she can return to school and receive an education. Our visit was to check in with her and her family, bring some groceries, see if they have any needs and do a healthcare checkup.

The people in the villages live very simply as they are quite poor. They build their houses on poles because it floods in the wet season. They typically have one main room where everyone sleeps, then below the house they have the kitchen and hang out area. The toilet is separate from the house in a little tin shed. While they are very poor, they always offer us something like water or food. It seems like most families have a motorbike to get around on, and you often see multiple people piled on one motorbike with no helmets. I saw a mother on the back of a motorbike with her newborn baby... Another time I saw 4 kids together, all just with shorts and t-shirt’s, no helmets, going very fast. Road rules aren’t really a thing over here either...

The village was around 1.5hrs away from the city we are in, so it was a long drive there and back! But it is important that they continue checking in with families to make sure they are doing okay. A lot of families in the villages are so poor that they either send their children into the city to work in the sex trade to earn good money, the children go themselves because they see no other option, or they are lured in and scammed by trustworthy people for a “good job in the city”, not realising what that entails. V told us that virgins can be hired for a week for around $15,000 NZD. I’m yet to ask how much it can typically cost to have sex with a child, I still haven’t processed how little it costs in The Gambia...

On the way home we stopped off at S’s house, as he lives in a village about half an hour out of the city. When we were in the cafe talking earlier in the day, he was explaining how he is building another room in his house for his wife, as they now have a newborn baby, as well as another child. We said we would love to see it, but he was super embarrassed and almost didn’t want us to come and see it. It is very awkward as we are so wealthy compared to them, and they know it. They feel embarrassed and shy about where they live, yet they have saved for years to build. The house was basically a tin shed, to put it simply. A lot of houses here are like that, which is crazy because they get so hot. But life is expensive so they do what they can.

It was interesting to see that even someone like S with a decent job still lives like that. Around 75% of Cambodia’s 17 million people live in rural villages and I imagine the further away from the cites you get, the poorer the people would get. Although even in the cities, life is very tough, particularly as tourism has slowed down immensely since Covid. We drove past so many hotels and tourist attractions on our way to our hotel, that our driver said are now closed because there’s not enough tourists. Each of these places would’ve hired so many locals and it is sad to think of all the families affected by the closures. There’s no welfare system like there is in NZ.

It was a long day, but it was great to get straight into it. I didn’t come here to be a tourist! I’m hoping the next few weeks will be really useful for myself, Q and the local team here.

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Hello Again

Hello faithful blog readers! It’s been over 3 months since my last blog post, and you may wonder what I’m up to now... Well... I’m currently on a plane, on my way to Cambodia.

It may sound random and it kind of is, but also it’s not. When I got back from The Gambia, I knew I wanted to spent some time with a different organisation who also works with survivors of sex trafficking. An organisation that’s larger, been around for longer, and who is doing things well. An organisation like Destiny Rescue.

I’d known about Destiny Rescue for years but wasn’t sure how I could be involved, as they don’t typically send white people overseas short term, but rather only long term and only if needed to support what the locals are already doing. But a few months ago, I started a conversation with one of their directors, who is a friend of my boyfriend Q, and long story short, I managed organise a trip for him and I to visit a Destiny Rescue project for a few weeks, to check out the work they do.

Over the last few months being back in New Zealand, I’ve had many questions and thoughts around what my place is in this world, how God might be wanting to use me, and how I might feel about that! The first two months back were really hard. I had strong reverse culture shock and my heart was so broken for what I had seen in The Gambia and beyond. I think I explained in a previous post that it felt like I was living in The Hunger Games, that in the Western World, we are living in the Capitol in ridiculous luxury and selfishness, knowing full well that the rest of the world living in the Districts are suffering, yet we do nothing about it. I felt heartbroken that although I was back in the safety and beauty that is New Zealand, the people and children I’d met in The Gambia were still living in poverty and suffering big time.

I’ve struggled to know what I can do to help, like, actually help, not just what my white privileged brain thinks would help! I’ve read books, talked to friends, listened to podcasts... But I still haven’t worked it out yet. I feel like my work in The Gambia is not over yet, but I’m not quite sure what that means either. As the timeframe I’ve been back in NZ grows, my experiences in The Gambia seem so long ago and so far removed from my life here. While my heart still aches, it aches a lot less than it did. Maybe that’s part of settling back in, but I also know that when I got back, I had this feeling that I didn’t want to settle back in, that I didn’t want my old NZ life to be my sense of “normal”. That I didn’t want to ever forget the things I’d learnt and the way my eyes and heart had been opened to the devastating suffering around the world.

I recently heard someone suggest that if God places something on your heart that makes you say, “Why doesn’t someone do something about this?” then that probably means that YOU are that someone He’s asking to do something about it. I’ve definitely felt like I would rather stay in my comfortable life, but that others should be doing more, not realising it’s not others that God is asking to do something, it’s me! He has chosen me for a specific task. Wow. That’s humbling. Still not sure what or where that task is yet...

But I also realise that I really struggled in The Gambia. In the heat, in the thunderstorms, in the intense physical, emotional and spiritual loneliness... It’s easy to look back with rose coloured glasses and remember all the good times, all the ways I felt used by God, but forget my countless nights of fear, anxiety, loneliness and tears. I do know that most of the time when God asks us to do something, our first response is typically, “Who...? Me? No, surely not. I’m not the right one because.....” But it’s in our weakness that God is glorified, because we have to rely on Him, not ourselves. And so around and around my brain goes... Trying to balance how we are called to step out in faith, into the uncomfortable, but also realising we are human and have our limits.

Another person recently said that if you can’t find God, go to where the people He loves are. That God is right where you’d expect Him to be. With the lost, the lowly, the oppressed. Of course, He is with everyone and wants everyone to be in right relationship with Him, but Jesus did have a tendency to spend time with this specific group, more than the religious folk. So if I want to know Him more, to see Him at work, to love who He loves, it should be no surprise that He leads me straight into discomfort, challenge and heartache.

So, back to Cambodia. Why am I here? Well, I’m hoping to learn lots about Destiny Rescue, how they work and how I might be able to partner with them in the future, either in NZ or overseas. I’m hoping that God will continue to break my heart for what breaks His, leading me closer to what particular people or issue He has called me to. And I’m hoping that I’ll be willing to hear what He says.

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Month 1 Thoughts

Well, it has been over a month since I returned to New Zealand already... Yikes. Lots of thoughts, questions and confusions have entered my mind since then, and many tears have been cried. Since arriving back in New Zealand I’ve been to Nelson, Golden Bay, Christchurch and even Franz Josef. I’ve spent time visiting friends and family, staying in people’s homes living out of suitcases. I’ve become an Aunty, celebrated Christmas and New Years. I’ve reunited with friends and said goodbye to others also heading overseas. It’s been a crazy month!

As I arrived in Christchurch at the start of my second week back, I was bombarded with experiences and feelings I hadn’t had in awhile. The first thing that struck me was fashion. Now, I’m definitely not a fashion icon, nor is it something I think about often. I dress for comfort and affordability. But for the first time in over four months, I got comments from people about my clothes, positive and negative. After wearing the same three dresses on repeat for months, I suddenly had more options and was entering a very different climate. Some people would compliment my outfit choices, then others would call my style “cringey” and roll their eyes at me. Like I said, I’ve never been nor do I want to be, someone who cares about fashion, but suddenly I was worried about what other people thought of what I was wearing. It seemed odd to me that anyone would care what I wore, but the fact that I cared what they thought took me by surprise.

I guess it’s less about fashion and more about comparison. In The Gambia, I had everything I needed, while many people I was working with had very little. In comparison, I was well off and felt bad that I had so much privilege when they didn’t. Whereas back here, I’m just a normal person, and there are so many people “above” me, as in they are more fashionable, can buy food out often, live in nicer houses...etc. This whole comparison concept hadn’t entered my mind much for the past few months, then within days of being back in our consumeristic culture, it was hard to escape from. Even though I don’t want to compare myself with anyone else, it ends up happening anyway. Sometimes I come out on “top” and in other categories I’m further “down”. It probably didn’t help that I arrived at peak consumerism time: Christmas.

My first few days in Christchurch were spent with my sister and her partner, who live only a few minutes walk away from where I had lived a few years ago. It was interesting to be wandering around such familiar surroundings, yet being such a different person now and in a totally different life stage. My first time doing a grocery shop back in New Zealand ended up being at my old local supermarket. While at the supermarket, I was overwhelmed with the choice in items, with multiple brands offering the same thing. I’d forgotten what I usually buy or how I shop. And I was so shocked at the prices! I’d heard the cost of living had gone up since I’d been away, but I wasn’t prepared to see basics like eggs and cheese cost so much. People were rushing around, putting expensive items into their trolleys so easily, going about their days... In The Gambia, if you could afford to even shop at the supermarket, you were wealthy. It wasn’t expensive by our standards, but to locals it was so out of reach, instead surviving day to day on what little resources they had. At one point I felt so overwhelmed with everything going on around me and inside of my mind, that I nearly had to leave the store and go have a cry.

There have been lots of moments like that, where I feel overwhelmed and confused, stuck between two worlds. Life in New Zealand is paradise, with our beautiful houses and clothes, our delicious food and our stunning scenery. We live for the weekends and summer holidays, where we can go to the beach or a music festival with friends and family. We have hobbies and disposable income. Life is still hard and there are many hidden challenges that everyone faces, but for most of us, our day-to-day needs are taken care of. Yet I know that just a few plane rides away, all across the world, there are people suffering. People starving to death, people being forced into the sex trade, people fleeing their home countries... The list is honestly endless. But our life feels like a bubble, an unreal life, a dream life.

We are aware of suffering around the world, but yet we do nothing about it. We might sponsor a child or donate to charity if we have extra money, but our lives continue on as per usual. We don’t often have that real connection with those that are suffering. It’s not our sister having female genital mutilation, it’s not our brother being forced to become a child soldier, it’s not our parents dying of starvation, it’s not our friends swimming across the ocean trying to flee their country, it’s not us being tortured for our faith... So we do our little bit to help, we sacrifice the cost of a coffee a week to help put a child through school, and on we go with our lives. I’m not saying that’s not helpful, because it certainly does change lives, I’m not denying that. But is it enough? While we live in paradise, hundreds of millions of others live in pain and suffering beyond what we could imagine or handle, yet it’s in the too hard basket so we leave it for someone else.

I don’t want to leave it for someone else. I don’t want to block out the faces I’ve met, the stories I’ve heard. They exist, they are human just like us. If I was in their situations, I’d be praying that someone would sacrifice from their plenty and help me out.

I love worship. I love music. I love singing with a room of passionate people, eagerly seeking to know Jesus more intimately. But what I’m learning is that true worship is in our doing. True worship involves sacrifice. To sacrifice our wants, needs and desires, for the sake of His glory and His Kingdom. To help the lowly, to love the unloveable, the outcasts and the forgotten. To care for the orphans, the widows, the prisoners. I love worship. I love music. I love singing with a room of passionate people, eagerly seeking to know Jesus more intimately. But what I’m learning is that those times of “worship” are great for renewing my strength to actually go out and do something. Of course there will be seasons of sitting with Jesus, of being held by Him and simply being His child, in His presence. But generally when it comes to “worship”, God is more pleased when it actually involves sacrifice of some level on my end.

I think that so many of us want to be used by God, but we aren’t actually prepared to follow through with much of what He may ask us to do. Because it’s scary, unknown, dangerous and always involves sacrifice. I don’t know what God will ask me to do in the coming days, months and years. I hope that I will be willing to follow Him wherever it leads, but realistically I am not there yet. Over the past few years, I’ve done a lot of hard things. Much of the time this has been a case of feeling the fear and doing it anyway. I know that as I obey Him in the small things, He will ask more of me in the big things. I didn’t just wake up one day and hear God say, “Go to The Gambia,” and I just said, “Sure thing!” There were lots of small yes’s, and lots of small no’s along the way which led up to that call.

I’m not done with mission work, that’s for sure. As I started unpacking my suitcases and boxes into my room, I had this feeling like I didn’t want to unpack and settle back in. That I wasn’t ready for it. That my task wasn’t completed, that maybe it was just beginning. I don’t like how long it took me to say yes to God’s call to go to The Gambia. I wish I could’ve trusted Him enough to say yes easier. The more I settle into life back home, the harder it is to leave, obviously. The more money and things I have, ironically the harder it is to be generous and give. I don’t want to love the world and my desires more than God’s Kingdom and His desires.

Shortly after I arrived back, I had to say goodbye to many of my closest friends in Nelson, as they headed off to Kenya on a month long missions trip, a trip that I was originally supposed to also be going on. I had such overwhelming emotions that day, seeing many of my favourite people all in one place, most of them I’d only seen once since arriving back. Then to be saying goodbye to them, just after I’d recently said hello, was pretty sad. More than missing them for a month though, was the knowledge of all the emotions and experiences they will have over there. Part of me was so excited for them and part of me was absolutely terrified for them! While my experiences were so different to what theirs will be, there are still elements that will overlap. There was also this anxiety of isolation again. Last time I’d left all my friends behind, but this time they were all leaving me, all at once! It was crazy.

I’m looking forward to hearing about their experiences and discussing life’s big questions with them. It is definitely hard having been through my experience in isolation, and although their journeys are different from mine, there will be overlap which I’m looking forward to debriefing!

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Week 1 Thoughts

While I may be a few weeks overdue with this blog post, these are my thoughts and musings from my first week being back in NZ.

When my flight from San Fransisco to Auckland landed in New Zealand and I walked off the plane, I nearly cried. After literally a week of travelling from The Gambia to NZ, with 2 cancelled flights and 2 overnight stop overs in NYC and San Fransisco, I was ready to get home. I always get anxious when flying, particularly on long-haul international flights, so I was feeling very relieved to land in NZ, especially after so many delays!

However when my flight from Auckland to Nelson was coming into land, instead of the anticipated tears of joy, there were tears of sadness. As I looked out at the stunning view of Nelson and Tasman, of the place I’ve called home for most of my life, something didn’t feel right inside of me. Instead of rushing off the plane like I thought I would, I ended up being one of the last people to get off the plane. Even thought I’d finished my mission and had surprisingly stuck out the whole last four difficult months, I also felt like I hadn’t quite finished my mission, or that I hadn’t achieved what I set out to do, but I couldn’t put my finger on why I felt that way. It was overwhelming and surprising. When I finally dragged myself off the plane and was slowly walking across the tarmac, I looked out at the hills that are so familiar to me and always feel like home, yet at my core it didn’t feel like home anymore. At the same time, The Gambia also didn’t feel like home, so where did I belong now? Despite not even walking into the airport yet, I already felt like an outsider, back in my hometown yet feeling like I don’t fit anymore, but not fitting in where I’d just been for the past three months either… It was not the feelings I had anticipated for my first few minutes of arriving in Nelson, that’s for sure, and it definitely started me off on a somber note.

It was just my dad waiting for me at the airport, and after a quick hug one of the first things he said to me was, “Well, now time for the depression to kick in!” He went on to talk about times when he’d lived overseas and would come back home and feel down for the first few months because he’d had this amazing experience overseas and changed, yet everything and everyone back home was just the same, and no one could relate to his experiences. I understood exactly what he meant, because I’ve also lived overseas before and had to deal with the transition that is coming back home. But this time felt different. I didn’t want to slip back into my “normal” life, and at the same time, I had a feeling that this wasn’t my home, but that The Gambia wasn’t either… Was this a case of, “we are in the world, but not of the world?” Or that, “this is our temporary home,” on the way to eternity with Christ? That it’s actually okay for nowhere to feel like home?

After a quick catch up with one of my best friends, I spent my first few days back in NZ in Golden Bay with my parents and boyfriend, which was really nice. Golden Bay has always been my happy place, so being able to just get away and spend quality time with them was much needed. The weather was nice and it felt like being in heaven, particularly after so many months in The Gambia. But towards the end of the weekend, I got a message from M saying there’d been rioting on the streets right outside our compound back in The Gambia. She sent through some videos she and her family had taken, and they made me cry. A local guy had been murdered and the suspect was being held at the police station down the road. The locals wanted justice and to take it into their own hands, and were protesting and rioting on the street as the police wouldn’t release him. The videos showed people throwing rocks at the police, police firing tear gas at the crowd, people running and screaming, fires in the middle of the road… It was terrifying! Literally right outside my house! Luckily no one was seriously hurt, although M and her family were sick for a few days because of the tear gas. But it really shook me. Here I was, in what feels like paradise, meanwhile back in The Gambia, where I was only a week prior, all this was going down… I was glad to have come home when I did, as being there with that happening would’ve freaked me out too much, but being so far away was also difficult.

One morning during my few short days in Nelson, I was back at my parents house, trying to sort through some suitcases of stuff I’d left at theirs while I was away and figure out what to pack for my trip to Christchurch. I was feeling overwhelmed looking at all my stuff and all the choices, after having only 5 options of clothes for the past 4 months. Even though I now had so many options of what to wear, I kept reverting back to the same few items I’d been wearing on repeat, overwhelmed by my new-found choice. At one stage I checked my phone and there was a message from Antonia. She had sent me some photos from my final day at the government shelter. I was looking through the photos of me and the kids, and there were two kids that I connected with in particular over my time there, and when I saw the photos of those kids, I started crying. And then I cried and cried and cried and cried. My crying turned into deep sobbing that I couldn’t stop.

Seeing the faces of these beautiful children in the government shelter, while I sat surrounded in an abundance of clothes in New Zealand, which is like heaven compared to their living hell, made me so overwhelmed and upset. I’m over here, safe and living the good life, while they remain there. My heart broke as I thought about the reality of that. Then I started thinking about all the other people I’d met and the injustices I’d seen and heard about, not just in The Gambia, but across the world. And so the tears kept coming. I may have mentioned on the blog before that one of my lifelong prayers has been, “Father, break my heart for what breaks Yours,” and in that moment I definitely felt a glimpse of what He feels. I’d felt it a lot in The Gambia too, after first meeting the trafficked girls, after visiting the babies and children in the government shelter… So many situations broke my heart. But now that I was facing the reality that I’m back here in paradise and they’re still there, it was unbearable. I was listening to Brandon Lake, so that probably didn’t help either! But I was just so overwhelmed by emotions and heartache, being so far away from The Gambia and knowing I need to do something about what I’ve seen and experienced, but what? There’s so many issues, so much injustice, where do you even begin?

I spoke to one of my best friends about a bit of what I was experiencing, about feeling like I don’t belong here anymore, pondering if I even what to belong here. I decided that I don’t. I don’t want to ever forget that the world is so much bigger than what we see here, that there are people who are suffering and need Jesus. I talked to her about my initial wrestlings and she had this great analogy for me about the seasons. She talked about how when we first enter winter or perhaps move to a country where it is very cold and snows, it’s hard to adjust. We miss the summer, we’re cold and miserable. Then over time, slowly but surely, we learn to embrace it. We learn what clothes to wear in the extreme cold, we learn how to shovel snow so we can drive, we make snow angels on the ground, we go sledding… Then just as we seem to be adjusting and possibly even thriving, the snow starts to melt or we move countries again. We aren’t ready to let go of the snow and winter yet, but it’s gone already. As the flowers start to blossom and the temperatures rise, we miss the winter and all it held. We had just learnt to thrive and now everything is changing again. Yet slowly and surely, we adjust and we find joy in the spring time. Then, every now and then, we see things that remind us of the winter. We see fluffs of white falling off trees that remind us of the snow, someone shovelling dirt in their garden which reminds us of the hard work of shovelling snow in winter… Winter is now a memory, not our reality, yet we still have all the learnings and emotions of it inside of us.

The image that it put in my head was so beautiful and exactly what I needed to hear in that moment. I’d just been in a really hard place for the last few months, where everything was new and it was a constant uphill battle. Yet towards the end I was beginning to enjoy parts of it, thrive even, and then suddenly I’m back home, confused and out of place. Yet I have all the learnings and emotions from my time in The Gambia. Will I go back to The Gambia? I’m not sure. Will I stay in Nelson forever? I’m not sure. What am I doing next year? I’m not sure! But there is beauty to be found in all of it. Speaking of beauty… New Zealand is so frickin beautiful… We are soooooo blessed to live here, with our amazing weather and absolutely stunning scenery. As I kayaked in Golden Bay and as I drove from Nelson to Christchurch, I felt like I was literally in heaven. I was thinking, if this is what earth is like, what is heaven going to look like?! Wow! Anyway, those are some initial thoughts from my first week back… I know that there will be a lot more processing and unpacking to be done…

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learningnewways · 1 year

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Leaving The Gambia

Wow, where did the time go? Actually, that’s kind of a joke as it felt veeeeery slow at times. This has definitely been the longest four months of my life!

This week I caught up with friends, packed my bags and said goodbye... On Monday I visited my American friends the Reed’s for some board games and chats, Tuesday I went to the government shelter with Antonia then out for ice-cream with the Kursawe’s, Wednesday I packed my bags and had a farewell dinner cooked my M, then Thursday I went to the Reed’s one last time for Thanksgiving dinner, before heading to the airport. And that was my week! The quickest rundown of all!

It’s hard to believe I actually made it to the end of my time in The Gambia... The first weekend I arrived was so awful, I cried so much... Yet by my final week I was feeling so comfortable that I was even sad to leave... I know right?! A lot can change in a few months! I’m glad to be leaving on a positive note though, as my past few months have certainly been an emotional roller-coaster! I thought seriously about leaving early multiple times, as my parents can attest to! But I’m proud of myself for sticking it out, even when it was really hard. If I had left in one of the times I was feeling more down, I think it would’ve tainted my overall experience. Whereas leaving now in a good place, it means I’m leaving with fonder memories and feeling at peace.

It’s hard to imagine being back home in New Zealand so soon... Seeing my friends and family... Seeing the beautiful Nelson scenery... It all feels like a world away right now, a whole different life. I know I’m going to have to deal with reverse culture shock and lots of processing, most of which I’ll have to do alone, given I’m the only one who lived my experience. How will I live in NZ after what I’ve seen and experienced overseas? Maybe it’s not possible to go back to how things were, maybe the way I live will need to change... I’ve seen so much, not just in The Gambia, but also in The Middle East, that it will be hard to live with the privilege and easy life that is NZ. Of course we have our own struggles and some people are living it super rough, but overall things are pretty great and we have social welfare which helps too.

On Thursday we were watching the Macy’s Thanksgiving Parade on TV and I honestly couldn’t believe what I was watching... It’s hard to explain since there’s nothing like it in NZ... But to me, the parade represents consumerism and over the top stuff to the maximum! And when you watch it from a place like The Gambia, it seems so ridiculous and weird... So much money is spent on these floats, surely that money could be used for something else? Then after the parade, everyone stuffs their face with dinner, then a few hours later it’s Black Friday, so everyone goes out and spends loads of money on things they don’t need... The idea is unfathomable from somewhere like The Gambia where people struggle to survive day by day...

I wish The Gambia wasn’t so far away from NZ so I could visit again easier... I wish there was more I could do from NZ to help... I wish that all the issues that exist in The Gambia, across Africa and the world didn’t exist... That there was no poverty and starvation, no sex abuse and trafficking, no drug and alcohol addiction, no malaria or aids, no violence and murder, no greed and corruption, no death in childbirth, no child brides, no female genital mutilation, no child soldiers... On and on the list goes... It’s paralyzing, the more I learn about the world, the harder it is to know what to stand for and fight for. No one can do it all, but we can all do something. So what am I going to do?

Most of all, I want people to know and love Jesus. I hope that in my time overseas I have helped at least one person grow closer to Him, whether they are overseas or back home. God works in mysterious ways, so I might never know the impact He’s had on people through me, but I am grateful and humbled that He continues to use me to bring glory to Himself.

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