Small Miracles

1. Driving home from work yesterday, I realized that every pothole along a long strip of treacherous road had been filled in. There are many more potholes in other places, and driving practices in this city still leave something to be desired, but from now on in, on this one strip of road, it will be smooth sailing.
   
2. Every time I walk into the room, baby Joshua now greets me a heart melting smile and a questioning “Jejee?!”.
   
3. After months of dry weather, these last few days have been filled with tropical rain. They say they are “the mango rains” because they help to ripen the green mangos on the tree.
   

The Story of Agnes and Joanne: A Lao-Canadian Tale

Some things in life come full circle. Gathered in the office of a run down school in the outskirts of Vientiane, I heard this story for the first time:

In the fall of 2006, Agnes and Joanne (ages 8 and 10) were preparing for their first ever trip Laos. Though their parents had both grown up in Laos, Canada was the only home the two girls had ever known. To prepare for the trip, they decided to do what anyone of this computer savvy generation would do. They searched the Internet. And it was here that they learned about a community, located right next to a dump, which had been surviving for three generations by digging through the garbage and selling whatever could be salvaged. After reading this, the girls couldn't sleep. They lay awake at night thinking about the people, the children just like them, who had to grow up in such a place.

And so Agnes and Joanne talked to their teachers at school and got permission to organize a clothing drive so that they would have something to bring with them and give to the community’s school when they visited Laos. But little did they know that they would collect more than a tonne of clothes, far more than they could fit in their suitcases, and also over $100 in cash donations. The girls visited the school and met with the teachers and students to drop off their donations in November of 2006, at which time, the schools officials asked if it would be possible for the girls to raise enough money to build a washroom facility for the school as well as a place for the children to shower when they came to school after working in the dump. Back home in Canada, the girl’s church community at the Lao Canadian Evangelical Mennonite Church (LCEMC) swung into action. They raised the $2000 necessary to build the washroom and shower facility by selling thousands of spring rolls and chocolates.

Here’s where I come into the story. Many of you were present at the corn roast and concert held on my farm this summer in order to raise funds for my year in Laos and also to support the project of the LCEMC at the dump community in Laos. I must admit, I knew little about the project when I decided to support it, and I had no idea at all that it came to be because of two little girls. Anyways, my fundraiser was a distant memory when I received a phone call last week from Agnes and Joanne’s father and other friends from the LCEMC. They were back in Laos to visit the community once more and to give a donation of some sports equipment, and this time I could go with them and see the school with my own eyes.

And so, sitting in the office of that very school last Friday, it came to be that I heard the story of two compassionate Lao-Canadian girls, Agnes and Joanne, for the first time.

Speaking Lao

Lately I've been getting a taste of what it must be like for the thousands of refugees and new immigrants who come to Canada each year and must learn a brand new language, our language. I've reached a place in my study of the Lao language where I can understand other people well and I even have quite a wide vocabulary myself. The problem comes when I open my mouth. I know I'm saying the right words (at least most of the time) but I also know that I'm saying many of them incorrectly. My accent looms thick and heavy over me and it can be embarrassing to talk sometimes, particularly if it involves long and detailed explanation.

I mentioned this to Happy at the primary school this afternoon, how frustrating it's been lately to know that I'm saying things wrong and yet have to go on speaking as best I can anyways. What must everyone else be thinking of me! "That's why the children and volunteers are shy about speaking to you in English," he told me. "They're afraid of making mistakes. And they're embarrassed by their accents. But if they don't practice they will never learn! And Jessie it was harder for me when I was an IVEPer in B.C., because I had to speak English, there was no other choice!".

I thought back to a comment an MCC colleague of mine made at a recent international NGO conference, "why is it that your language is known all over the world and no one knows mine?". Yes we are very lucky as native English speakers to be born into a language that others all over the world spend endless time and money to acquire.

So maybe I will never truly experience the language frustrations that new immigrants go through when they come to Canada, but here in Laos, I'm getting a little taste of humble pie.

The Art of Peacemaking

Progress with our volunteer peacemaker team is happening. Slowly. As we look into the coming year and begin to implement our visions, we are realizing more and more what a challenge it is to work as a team towards the goal of peace, but we’re also discovering just how necessary it is to work together. We all have valuable things to offer, but no one person has what it takes to carry out the team’s vision alone. Unlike many of the volunteers, I have had some formal training and job experience in the field of peacemaking, however, unlike all of the other volunteers, my knowledge of the Lao cultural context and language are extremely limited. I’m learning to bite my tongue and simply listen during those times when, as a foreigner to this country, I truly can’t add anything valuable to the discussion. And so we move forward in tiny steps through a process of constant dialogue.

Dialogue: an essential tool in such an unscientific domain as peace and conflict studies. Through our groups many trainings and interchange sessions, we are learning that even within the small community of conflict resolution scholars, for example, there is a broad array of methods, not all of which are complimentary. The techniques taught by a visiting professor from Canadian Mennonite University may be very different than those taught at a special training in the Philippines or, for that matter, from the traditional Lao conflict resolution methods. And much to the dismay of some of my Lao friends, there is no one right conflict resolution strategy for every situation. In the art of peacemaking, the mediums are endless.

Historic Temples in Downtown Vientiane

Sometimes it takes a visitor to make a person be a tourist in their own city. All you Torontonians out there, for example, when is the last time you have actually been inside the CN Tower? The same is true for me here in Vientiane. The arrival of Rita, a former MCCer who now lives in Thailand, was a much needed excuse to get out and explore some of the sites here in this city. Rita, by the way was wonderful company. One benefit to living in a place like Laos is that you meet fascinating people on a regular basis!

Anyhow, here are some pictures from that afternoon of visiting temples. I was wearing a traditional Lao skirt that day (as always) and for some reason that made me a tourist attraction in my own right. More than one family of Thai tourists asked to have their picture taken with me and later on a group of young monks started a conversation with me, under the assumption that anyone wearing a Lao skirt must speak Lao. After Rita took a picture of me talking to the monks, another tourist stopped and asked if I could arrange to have his picture taken with the monks as well!

Monks, you see are a source of fascination for tourists and all other newcomers to this country. With their closely shaved heads and brilliant robes they do seem pious and mysterious. But after spending some time here you learn that nearly every Buddhist man will be a monk at one point in his life or another. Poor families send their boys to live at monasteries and receive a free education and many young men will join the monk hood for several weeks or months prior to their wedding or after the death of a loved one. As you might expect, monks are abundant here. Still it was a rare opportunity for me to be able to have a real conversation with these young monks.

Being a tourist was fun for a change and with the arrival of my parents tomorrow for a two week visit, I look forward to many more opportunities to explore this city.

Five Years of Empowering Disabled Women

One of the best parts about my job here in Laos is that I never know quite what to expect in a day. On this particular Friday afternoon, I was sent to cover the proceedings of the 5th Anniversary Celebration for the Lao Disabled Women's Development Centre. The women who live and work at the center made absolutely radiant hosts. Beaming and dressed in their finest clothes (each one wearing the traditional styles of her village) they welcomed us and directed us to the field behind the center, backing onto the river. I had visited the LDWDC before, but this time the place had been transformed. Tents and a stage had been set up, along with tables overflowing with Lao delicacies and vendors selling handicrafts. The women had been preparing for this event for months, and it showed.

And then the festivities began. Able bodied and disabled people alike marked the occasion through carefully rehearsed Lao traditional Dances interlaced with congratulatory speeches. It was truly inspiring to see how the faces of my mentally and physically disabled friends came alive when the music was turned on and they were given a chance to be in the spotlight for once, rather than being pushed to the farthest edges of society, as per usual. The day ended with more dancing, but this time the impromptu kind. The girls sitting next to me in their wheel chairs persuaded me to put down my camera and we all danced together until exhaustion and laughter overcame us. I have never in my life danced so much as I do here in Laos and I wonder why is it that we have relegated dancing to night clubs and ballet classes back in Canada?

My boss here likes to tease me that I have the most enviable job in the organization, and on days like this, I have to agree.