Redemptive Canadians

Right, I said that I was going to mention something about how my fellow Canadian delegates were quite crucial in helping me navigate through the journey I had at Lausanne, and how, even now, they continue to help process, narrate and heal through this experience.
I have mentioned earlier how actually spending some time ‘away’ with two brothers for lunch to discuss how upsetting the discourse was, how uneasy we were with the messaging coming from the stage, and how this was not the Jesus or the world that we knew, was really redemptive for me. Another aboriginal brother who helped whisk me away to the townships, to see how apartheid is still very alive and well, to see the brokenness in that country, and yet also, to see such great beauty and how God is still at work, despite our failings and inadequacies.
My fellow Canadian delegates have continued to pour into my life, even now. Tonight, I was at a talk given by another delegate, where he shared his distress, disgust and disorientation from having attended Lausanne, and how his pain at the brokenness of the church is still balanced by the hope and the joy of our Lord being present amongst His people. I’m not sure if the rest of the audience really “got” what he was talking about, but his words echoed many of my own from the last posting that I wrote. Others have asked me to come and speak in other venues in the upcoming weeks. In our national time away, to congregate together we realized that we, as a country, remained in unity in our shame in the discourse happening and the inequities and battles that continue to be fought within the church
It has been so comforting to know that I am not alone in my thinking. I believe that there is greater purpose in the selection of delegates who did attend. Several of the people that I know who were on the nominations list, but were not invited to attend, as lovely as they are, are still people who think in old, stale paradigms that no longer apply to our world today (that being said, I’d have to say most of the evangelicals I know still think in those ways). However, as I’ve discovered over the past few months, that those of us who were, by God’s grace, chosen to attend were kindred spirits in many ways - seeing but dimly that another way is possible, despite the strong-armed, unswerving, completely self-assured dinosaur that continues to stomp down old paths that no longer speak to our culture or our world. They give me hope that another future is possible for the Bride that we love and that we can choose different paths and that Jesus is still going to keep calling us to Himself and to take up our crosses and give up our Pharisaism daily. I can only dare to hope for myself that I am worthy of the calling to which I have been called, and that, as all of creation groans for God’s full redemption, that we hear this cry and strive to see His kingdom come and His will be done on earth.

South Africa VIII

Day four
I fully, unashamedly and completely confess that I do not like aspects of Piper’s theology. The man himself is very nice and kind (for the few brief moments I met him), and I’m sure he treats his family, dolphins, bunny rabbits and puppies well. However, his thought around many issues is really problematic. I mean, the regular criticisms of his being a hyper-Calvinist is one thing. But also, his fixed, monocultural, mono-worldview is concerning (particularly more so as he’s supposed to be a missions-minded pastor), with a very Puritanical, very dualistic point of view. In terms of approach and theology, he rides a very narrow horse that gets ridden over and over again. Not to mention his very rigid views on the role of women. This last point is particularly hurtful, as not only because of his near idolization by many people that I know, who take everything he says as near-gospel, or even, dare I say, word of God itself, but also because his views actually completely ignore and deny the reality that there are many equally orthodox views in seeing the world. However, in the country-that-shall-not-be-named, as well as in my own, there certainly is a significant segment of people who follow of a version of Piperanity. This is no fault of the man himself if people choose to idolize him; he’s a very modest, humble guy who I am quite sure would be aghast if people thought of him that way. However, I am quite sure he is also fully aware at how much weight his words carry when he uses them.
For this, I am quite upset (as were many other non-country-that-shall-not-be-named delegates) by his using his Lausanne pulpit to push his own particular brand of evangelicalism as the “right” one.
For some reason, only in the country-that-shall-not-be-named, and, by proximity, in our own, there seems to be a tension between proclamation of the gospel and demonstration of kingdom (‘seems to be’, for, in our Canadian delegation, there is no tension - I will write more about the redemptive purposes of my fellow Canadians in another post), requiring a prioritization, a categorization, and a distinction between the two. This is NOT so anywhere else in the world. Word and deed go together; indeed, they are inseparable, and cannot even be distinguished. The concept that they are separate entities is hard to understand for most of the rest of the church. Providing freedom for captives, healing the broken and proclamation of good news is all one and the same. There is no condition of having one first before the other will be provided. There is no stronger emphasis on proclamation at the expense of transformation. Only here, where we live.
So, when Piper uses his pulpit to proclaim that there is a distinction, that there needs to be higher priority on proclamation over transformation, that, unless one is explicitly laying out the four spiritual laws (which is SO modern and irrelevant to our times), then really, what are you doing with your life? The messaging I received was that: You are non-essential to the kingdom, for you are not doing anything of merit, for you are not standing on street corners with stupid signs saying, “You’re going to burn in hell if you don’t accept Jesus”. Psht; helping the poor? Transforming policy? Defending the weak? Living close to the land? Rejecting to live at your 'expected' standard of living? Governing your nation justly? Removing economic barriers and dismantling unjust structures? But you’re not telling people explicitly about Jesus? Pointless, all of it.
Other speakers this day also spoke about globalization and the gospel, which many attended, thinking it would actually be talking about globalization and how the church should respond. Many left, including myself, quite early on in the session when it became apparent that it was not. The speaker decided to define globalization, not in the regularly accepted notion of economic structures that cause great disparity and pain in the world, but as the increasing ‘worldliness’ that encroaches upon the church that we must fight and defend ourselves against. What??? Many of us left disgusted that the church had no response to the grinding poverty and economic structures that leave half of the world in desperate need and want without providing some succour, some answer, some solutions.
This was certainly a turning point for me here at the Congress; a militant, aggressive advancement of the narrow definition of ‘the gospel’, ignoring the realities and disparities of our world today, and denigrating the work and aspirations I have for transforming Kingdom left me wondering if I even wanted to be an evangelical anymore. It left me wondering whether I was even ‘acceptable’ enough in my theology to be an evangelical, and wondering whether I even belonged in this family anymore.
This was a dark teatime of the soul for me. This particular day made me want to go home, and probably I should go and become Roman Catholic or something, as I clearly didn’t belong in this club. The language of exclusion, of preference of some views over others, of a lack of justice and action was very isolating. The incomprehensibility of reviewing (for three whole days! Half the congress!) over and over again the base beliefs and theology that unite us (uh, hello, I think we can all agree on the uniqueness of Christ, the death and resurrection, the necessity of proclaiming the gospel and making disciples etc etc, and to flog it for half the Congress, when we are all quite sure where our orthodoxy lies was kind of a waste of time), and leaving little room to discuss and respond to pressing issues of our day left many wondering why we were gathering for a global basic theology lesson.
Many of us were grasping with: but how will we respond to the need for true racial reconciliation? To climate change? To global poverty? To HIV/AIDS? To new ways of expressing and understanding the Grand Narrative? To the challenge of orality? These were issues that were sidelined and marginalized.
Sigh. Thinking about it, even now, after some redemptive things that happened after this point, still makes me wonder whether I am an Evangelical. If I am, I am not a proud one. Some point out I actually never was and this should be reassuring to me, and that what should comfort me most is that I actually follow Jesus first. And that is comforting, that I think seriously about the red words in my Bible, even though I fail miserably at following them, and that I think about the OT, and focus much less than the regular Evangelical on Romans to Philemon. Thanks to solid brothers and sisters who helped to listen, who vented alongside with me, and for my fellow countrymen who made me realize I wasn’t actually totally a freak.

South Africa VII

This is just quoted verbatim from a brochure that I received re: efforts made in South Africa to deal with child abuse and exploitation here in this country. One good friend of mine and I routinely talk about the discourse in North America that emphasizes rights, but ignores or minimizes our responsibilities to our society. What's particularly excited about the wording in this is that it is from the South African Human Rights Commission. However, in their mandate to protect human rights, they do not neglect citizens' responsibilities to the nation.

Children, empower yourselves - know your rights, accept your responsibilities!
Chapter 2 of our Constitution contains the Bill of Rights which applies to everyone. Some of these rights which apply to children should be exercised responsibly by everyone including children themselves. These rights are:
- A right to family care, love and protection and the responsibility to show love, respect and caring to others, especially the elderly.
- A right to a clean environment and the responsibility to take care of their environment by cleaning the space they live in.
- A right to food and the responsibility not to be wasteful.
- A right to good quality education and the responsibility to learn and respect their teachers and peers.
- A right to quality medical care and the responsibility to take care of themselves and protect themselves from irresponsible exposure to diseases such as HIV/AIDS.
- A right to protection from exploitation and neglect and the responsibility to report abuse and exploitation.

South Africa VI

Day three
This was a great morning - a really strong challenge to the church that when we claim that God has reconciled the whole world to Himself through Jesus Christ, do we really mean it? Reminders that we all, irrespective of religious lineage, ethnic heritage, or impeccable bloodlines, were all brought near to the King, and we are called to a kingdom together in being peace-beings and peace-makers together. Ruth Padilla, the first woman ever invited to speak as a plenary expository speaker in the Lausanne movement, was incredibly inspiring, and I feel privileged in being able to get to know that family better over the course of the congress. Ruth is no slouch herself, being a leading theologian in Latin American thought. There were, of course and inevitably, men (mainly from the West, and mainly from ahem-the-country-that-shall-not-be-named) who refused to attend her plenary for the sole fact that she was a she.
Thought provoking challenges from a Palestinian Christian, standing alongside a Messianic Israeli, with them sharing about the very real obstacles to genuine reconciliation in their nation, and how the power of the gospel, demonstrated through them, can show that torn land that healing is possible.
Joseph, another dear friend, who spoke so eloquently about our responsibility to remember to free our brothers and sisters, not only from spiritual slavery, but from physical bondage of all sorts and demonstrating that the liberty of the gospel does, in fact, point to a new reality and a new kind of reconciled community.
Antoine, a figure who looms large in the reconciliation efforts in Rwanda, who himself suffered much loss during that country’s genocide in the 1990s, who wondered aloud how where some of the fastest-growing churches are, there the civil wars and the genocide have had some of their most terrifying horrors unleashed. He wondered as to the methods of the West in its visualization of discipleship and mission, if a country such as Rwanda which was 90% Christian, could yet massacre one million of its own people? He pointed to missionaries completely ignoring the social context in which they presented the gospel, building upon already pent-up ethnic hatred within the country to build their church, using converts to their advantage, conspiring with the government to keep their churches running, all adding up to the horrific episode in 1994 when the West turned its back away from a problem it helped create.
Rwanda, however, has come back from the brink, based on godly men and women from their own country, actively working towards reconciliation. Understanding that suffering is inevitable with the gospel. Understanding that woundedness is needed for healing to begin. Understanding that reconciliation, deep and pure and true, is what is needed to truly demonstrate that Christ died for all, not preferentially for some.
Brenda then also gave a prophetic indictment to us all about our huge credibility gap in the evangelical church. This gap is so huge, you can drive a truck right through it, and without credibility, we have no right to speak to truth.
Inspiring morning, and some of the conversations I had with some of these people over the course of the congress helped mitigate and flush out some of our fears of some of the alternative and other messaging that was simultaneously occurring.
The afternoon was a breakout session on the environmental crisis and the gospel. Easy as pie, you’d think; that’s right up my alley. Well, the first half of the afternoon was helpful, in that the panel was predominantly made up of people from the Global South, many of them from island nations who have already seen massive changes in their countries during the lifetimes due to climate change, and many whose nations are at risk of disappearing due to increasing sea levels. However, the second half was an even smaller breakout group. Besides myself, one Dutchman and our of our aboriginal leaders (who isn’t fully a “Westerner” like myself), the rest of the session was made up of people from the developing world. Not a single other person from the West showed up (ahem-country-that-shall-not-be-named), though there was a sea of Indians, South-East Asians, Africans and Latin Americans present. Ironically, it was an American who led the session. By general consensus, it was a shallow ecological theology presented with little benefit to any of us. This was made all the stranger in that the Cape Town Commitment fleshes out creation care quite well (though we did not know that at the time). It left many of us deflated and uninspired, and, frankly, feeling that the country-that-shall-not-be-named really didn’t care very much about the theological and justice issues surrounding climate change affecting the rest of the world. One Nigerian fellow I had dinner with shrugged his shoulders and told me, “Well, what do you expect? They are paying for it.” Many others were shocked at this amount of apathy in light of the country-that-shall-not-be-named in allowing the paradigm to be shaped and managed from their point of view alone.
Certainly, I could fully admit from my side of the border, that in general the Canadian church emulates a lot of what that other nation’s church trends are for the worse, in my opinion. (That being said, there were definitely some heartening things about the Canadian delegation that I’ll mention later).
So, Tuesday was a grand slam outta the park in the morning, but gradually dwindled to less than a base hit by the end of the day. It certainly left me wondering why on earth I was even at this Congress, if the issue for which I was sent was being treated in such a superficial and globally useless manner.

FFT

This was printed at one of the museums I have visited here in South Africa...

Dear Teacher:
I am a survivor of a concentration camp. My eyes saw what no person should witness: Gas chambers built by learned engineers, infants killed by trained nurses. Women and babies shot and burned by high school and college graduates. So, I am suspicious of education.
My request is:
Help your students become human. Your efforts must never produced learned monsters, skilled psychopaths, educated Eichmanns. Reading, writing and arithmetic are important only if they serve to make our children more human.

-Author unknown

South Africa V

This is going to be an interlude in my musings re: Lausanne, mainly because my current conference is taking up so much time, that I’m having little time to reflect on my last one!
Today they took us on a short tour of Port Elizabeth, which, honestly, is not a touristy town, and, except for FIFA this year, likely isn’t high on the ‘must go’ destinations in this country.
However, they did bring us to the Red Location museum, found in the middle of one of the townships around Port Elizabeth. In and of itself, it was a highly moving museum. Currently, a huge portion of the museum is dealing with Steve Biko and his life and death. It is quite an astounding piece of work, dealing with the history and life behind the Black Consciousness Movement. There were panels that dealt specifically with Biko’s last few days before his death, his autopsy, and the findings at his inquiries that left me incredibly ashamed and embarrassed at my profession. Physicians throughout history have participated in shameful and inhumane acts against other human beings, though they are supposedly some of the most educated and wise among us. (Great quote on this later).
What I found most striking, however, is how this museum is found in the middle of a township. People had to be displaced in order to make room for the construction of this museum. Around it, they are building archives to store artifacts and documents relating to the apartheid struggle. Yet, all around, this complex of buildings is surrounded by corrugated tin shacks with no running water and no electricity. I spent some time with one elderly gentleman who was displaced during this construction, who worries that he will die before the government will give him compensation. I am sure he cannot help but look at all of this construction and wonder ‘why?’. The irony is further heightened by the fact that there is a reconstructed shack within the museum that you can wander through, to get a ‘real feel’ as to what it is like to live in a township home, when, not even 100 ft away, there are hundreds of them outside.
To be sure, it is very easy to see the specks in other countries’ eyes and miss the logs in our own. However, I have been struck by how ‘apart’ this country still lives. Wherever I have been, I have either seen an overwhelming number of black people, or else an overwhelming number of white people. Nothing suggesting a nice mix/majority black. And this has also been segregated based on the economic status of the neighbourhood I happen to be walking in. I wonder, being called the “Rainbow Nation”, if this is more a reflection of the fact that we draw our rainbows with distinct colour bands, none melting in and melding with the others. Since I’ve arrived here, I have been astounded by the energy of the church here, but I have also felt that there is a profound desire for deep justice to occur. Deep, penetrating, profound justice and reconciliation. But I also feel like, in the context of the wounds that are still quite raw in the country, there is uncertainty where to start with the healing balm.
It has also emphasized to me, again, that despite all of our best intentions and our grandest dreams, we are unable, on our own, to fix the ills of this world. By no means does this excuse us from not struggling and not fighting for good, to say that this is a lost cause and this world is so fallen from sin that it is incapable of grace. But as long as selfishness, greed and pride persist, all the education and policy in the world cannot save us…

South Africa IV

So here are some notes I've jotted down to myself about some preliminary thoughts about the progression of the congress....

Day 1
Arriving in the plenary hall at Cape Town on the first day was close to overwhelming - a massive hall, with rows and rows of tables upon tables - like a sea of chairs by a shore of enormous Jumbotron screens. Just the sheer vastness took my breath away - to believe that this many people from all over the world were coming to celebrate Christ!
The opening ceremonies were beautiful. I loved how the dancers marched into the hall, not bearing the flags of all nations, but a variety of mono-coloured flags instead, demonstrating that the gospel is not an issue of nationalism, that no nation can take credit for the gospel, that we should not be divided based on citizenship or geographic location, but that we reflect the beauty and diversity of the globe. Wow!
Dancing, music, singing and a brief video of the history of Christianity swept across the stage and refreshed my memory at what a heritage we share, how God has constantly been moving amongst His people, even before Protestantism even existed, and how He continues to move today, despite history, despite humanity, despite various periods in time when we were convinced that the end times were nigh.

Day 2
The theme for the second day was truth and the notion of truth. This is where internal conflict started to rage. It was a very good challenge for me to be reminded of the exclusive truth claim that we make about the nature and person of Jesus Christ, and that we, loving this particular truth, should be eager and ready to speak of Him who loves us so. However, the subtle differences in the presentations of all the speakers that morning either left me with a bad taste in my mouth, a reasonable medium, or extreme guilt.
I suspect for those in the family who are most concerned about “truth” care most about the kernel, the core, the narrow centre of truth of the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. And yes, when they speak of absolute truth claims, then they are correct. However, wandering into the margins of the orb of truth, it gets a bit murkier. In what forms does ‘transformation by the gospel’ present itself? There are many who are ‘transformed by Jesus Christ’, but still are corrupt, still divorce, still consume much more than their share, and rationalize that they are covered by grace, and, in addition, do not consider deeply the effects of their everyday lives in the proclamation of the gospel. (Seriously - changing one CFL lightbulb in your home, thinking that that is creation care is spurious, at best). Others still emphasize the avoidance of only certain sins count (ahem, sexual sin in all its manifestations), and completely ignore others (inequity, injustice, etc) claiming either that these are covered by grace (aren’t all sins covered by grace?), or even moving towards the occasional detour into pseudo-prosperity gospel… I have always found that difficult; simply because I don’t watch porn and am not homosexual, yet perpetuate and participate in economic systems that insist on keeping the poor ‘in their place’ or allow systems for slavery to occur, or allow orphans and widows to fend for themselves, that I’m an “OK” Christian, or that God has blessed me so that I wouldn’t have to suffer too much hardship?
One speaker noted that the will to win others can lead to an arrogance of claiming every aspect of the whole truth as exclusively ours which leads to the danger of hatred and mistrust of the other, and, in many contexts, leads to violence. The reality is, beauty, goodness, care of the land and people are not exclusively the domain of Christianity, though we act like we own it all (though it is, in fact, Creator God who owns all beauty and goodness in all its forms). In our arrogance, we tend to diminish the beauty that already exists, considering it inferior if it does not directly proclaim Christ to everything around it. I suppose this is partially why many artist friends find it hard to find their place in the church.
Following this was our initial regional gathering, where we met with the rest of the Canadian delegation, which was fabulous, though there was still too many of us around to meet everyone. The evenings were designed to highlight different areas of the globe, and the first night was Asia. Personally (uh, not that I’m biased), I thought it was the most well done of the regions. We had a very moving time of prayer for our brothers and sisters in China who were not allowed to come to join us, and we in turn were blessed with a song sent from them that was played for us. Furthermore, a moving testimonial from a young North Korean girl, whose parents fled with her when she was a child, but who subsequently died for the gospel, left me weeping and shaking. I don’t think she left a dry eye in the house, but I am sure for those of us of Korean heritage, it was all the more moving. Her father, so convicted by the power of the gospel, returned twice on suicide missions to tell his countrymen about Jesus. The first time, he was imprisoned for several years and managed to escape. The second time - well, this young lady had not heard from her father in over two years, so presumes him tortured and dead. Gosh, just thinking about her family’s love for each other, for their country and for God makes me all teary all over again.
As you can see, there were many high and low lights, already in one day. Swinging from, “Oh, how God loves humanity! How great His love, His purposes and His plans!” to “What on earth is with the arrogance, the distrust that some in the church have for everything that is not exactly according to their narrow understanding of theology? How maddening!” That’s how it was, but the extremes became even more so over the course of the week…

South Africa III

I started working on this one on a word document a few days ago, so it's totally out of date, and my thinking has been modified by what has occurred subsequently, as it continues to do as I've been reflecting some more. This was my thinking on the Friday night:
I think I should probably relate a day if that helps at all to try to start to frame the discourse that has been going on. Why the Friday? Frankly, the first bit of the Congress seems so long ago now it’s hard to remember details - the long days, the numbers of people, the amount of mind-blowing is hard to detail. It seems, in many ways, that I have been here a very long time and have changed profoundly in many ways just from these few days away.
Friday, we started with Bible study, exposition and discussion from Ephesians, done by a fairly conservative guy, but his exposition was actually quite good and impactful.
However, this was followed up with an aggressive, urgent demand to individually commit to a UPG. Irrespective of what one’s agency focuses on, based on little knowledge of the individual UPGs, and only given four minutes to fill out the commitment form, it felt very rushed and aggressive.
This was followed by a lunch debrief with some Canadian friends on the delegation because of other issues that have come up over the course of the Congress. Solid guys. It was really good in sitting with them and talking about our uncomfortableness and our dis-ease with the nature of the discourse going on here. It was encouraging to sit with men who agreed that there are discourses and frames here that aren’t ringing true, that verge on unrighteous and narrow in their scope. I couldn’t bring myself to attend another unsatisfying multiplex and deal with sessions that would just tear my hair out, so God rescued me from that by having me bump into one of our young aboriginal leaders who was on his way to meet with a Latin American leader that I had planned to have supper with anyways. So off we went to find her, where she was in a car with a South African activist, when they told us to hop into the car for an “alternative Congress”. We hop into the car, thinking we were just going to hang out in a café and discuss theology and kingdom. Instead, off we went to the townships, seeing how the church is there as well, how poverty and spirituality and weakness and beauty all collide uncomfortably in the metal shacks of black South Africa. It was just about what I needed at this point in the Congress.
Back to supper, where talking with a Latin American about her struggles to see how this Congress has been relevant to her national discourse and to mine. That was also helpful to see how we wanted to push the boundaries of the discourse beyond the narrow worldview of traditional conservative American evangelicalism. Afterwards, another friend related how he had gone to a session that was dealing with the global trends facing the church over the next decade, listing items such as pornography in the top ten. He had asked at the end of the presentation why issues such as global poverty and economic inequity were not counted amongst the top ten issues facing the church today, yet pornography managed to make the list, with which he was completely dismissed and didn’t even have his comment acknowledged as a point to be made.
Encouragingly, the evening session was a celebratory service, focusing on Africa; it’s hard for it not to be celebratory if the African continent is involved.

South Africa II

I think, for some, being here would be like dying and going to heaven. And in some ways, it does reflect that: many different tongues and nations are all here for the same purpose. It has been quite something to be in this place with people from over 200 nations. Every time you turn around, there is someone else from somewhere else, being someone incredibly exciting, and doing something incredibly exciting,
The other day, I was invited to the Asian-American party which was fun (though brief; most of us can barely get through the very long days!), though funny as how distinct we are as peoples one from the other. They thought I talked too softly - for those of you who know me, you have got to realize how funny that sounds...
It has been very challenging for me, certainly, in reconsidering where on the spectrum of evangelization vs. social justice I sit, and perhaps, where I should be sitting.
However, there has been a darker side to all of this. One of my friends here, I think has articulated it much better than I on his blog, but I can really only try to encapsulate it here. There has been much talk about how great the growth and vibrancy of the Global South has been, and how they, as the majority church now, have a right to be at the table. However, in form and content, though it tries to be inclusive, it is not. There is marginalization manifested in many ways at this congress, not just in terms of Global North/South relations, but across many other relationships that need desperate, deep, genuine reconciliation. To be fair, I think there are honest attempts in grace, but I think there are still so many different barriers and obstacles that the church still needs to overcome in order to demonstrate to the world that we are unified and that we love one another deeply.
This has been troubling my soul, over and over, for the past few days, and were it not for the fact that I verge on exhausted all the time, it would be lead me to question the nature of my faith.
However, a brief word of encouragement from a brother in Indonesia helps. A brother in Canada with a listening ear helps. A sister from Scotland helps. A brother from Sri Lanka helps. A brother in Haiti helps. A sister in Argentina helps. And this is where grace comes in. And where my soul, etched with the conviction that systemic and infrastructural evil needs to be abolished, finds solace.

South Africa I

So here I am in South Africa and the buzz here is amazing! To this point, I've mainly been acting as tourist, though the game starts in earnest today.
I've done the typical touristy things here - gone to the Cape of Good Hope, visited Robben Island and the top of Table Mountain, etc., as any good tourist is supposed to do. Have been cooking dinners for good friends, and having a good time catching up with people from all over the world. It was funny; I thought I'd be a tiny fish in a very large sea (and, in many ways, I certainly am), but it turns out that many familiar faces are here in Cape Town, and though many of them are incredibly busy arranging meetings with their colleagues from across the globe, it is still reassuring to see their faces.
Yesterday was an orientation session for the small group leaders. As a small microcosm of what will start today, it was amazing! 600 of the delegates gathered, committing ourselves to help care for our small groups, help lead discussion and return feedback to those who will be writing the consensus statements. Hearing us all, from hundreds of nations across the globe, singing hymns was rousing, and realizing that I am sitting amongst GIANTS in their home nations, astounds me! Every single delegate at the Congress is this amazing, gifted, talented, passionate leader of the global church, and I still cannot believe that I am allowed to stand amongst such people!
It is a bit funny though; it's been hard to find people "like me" so far, but, by God's grace, it will happen. In that, I mean people who are clearly in the secular domain of life, and have little to nothing to do with faith-based ministry on a day to day basis. I love all the people who I know who work so tirelessly and unselfishly to do the various aspects of ministry that they are involved in, be it research, data gathering, strategic thinking, vision-casting, preaching, teaching or writing, but I am hoping that I will be able to find the people, like myself, that make up the body of believers that aren't involved in those aspects of church building.
Listening to some of my friends discuss their work in ministry with each other is admittedly intimidating. It almost makes me wish I had a doctor, or a foodie, around to talk about issues that I would have a better grip on, compared to diaspora ministry, UPGs, census taking, truth paradigms, etc etc.
At any rate, this morning I will be celebrating the Lord's Day with friends at Archbishop Desmond Tutu's church (gasp! I hear some people say - why on earth would you attend an Anglican church service?). Well, because St George's was brave enough to stand against the atrocities of apartheid, and was one of the nerve centres for the Marches of Peace in the late 1980s that helped lead to the downfall of apartheid. That's why. Breaking bread with those who have such strong bonds with the dark days of the past and with the need for hope for the future will be a deep honour.
To be honest, I am not sure how much time I will have to post during the Congress - days run from 0730 hrs till 2300 hrs daily! I suspect I will be tired, but happy. Missing all of you desperately, but with a glad heart that I have much family here.

Pre-Cape Town

As per usual, I'll be posting from my voyage abroad. This one will probably be the first where I will predominantly spending time sitting in hotel and convention centre rooms for a whole month. So rather than "seeing" things (I can't believe I've been to the continent of Africa so many times and have not yet seen any elephants, and this trip will also be no exception to that rule), I'll probably be more likely reporting on what I've learned.
Two very large and important learning points, actually. The first will be the Congress, which most of the family would know well what that encompasses. And, I have to take back some of my snark from a few days ago - I still feel mostly that my local church still has no idea what the heck I'm going to (despite having had 14 months to start to figure it out), but at least they're glad I'm going to 'whatever the heck you're going to'. The second is a leadership development program that I'm in, started initially by the Rockfeller Foundation after UN Congress in Rio in 1992 to counter climate change. The Rockfellers aren't as involved in it as they used to be, but its goal is to train leaders in business, the academy, government, etc to develop skills necessary to coordinate and think about combatting climate change. The international component of the program is, providentially, in the same country as the Congress, within a week of each other. Very providential, as I didn't have to fly to two different countries just to go to conferences.
So that's it, for now. Not looking forward to a two day journey just to get all the way there, but am looking forward to a brief respite in the UK, and spending it with friends for a day before heading onwards.

Calling 911

Fortunately, it's not often that I end up calling 911. I am, however, incredibly grateful for the 24/7 hard work and dedication of the dispatchers, police, paramedics and firefighters who end up responding to calls.
I kind of feel sorry for them, however, when I do end up calling them, since it's usually things that are totally random. Like tonight. Driving home only the DVP, I happen to pass by a cyclist. On the shoulder of the highway. Without lights (or a helmet, for that matter, but basically, without lights, he was almost invisible). Not even close to a semi-intelligent idea.
So I call the dispatcher: "Um, excuse me, but I just drove by a cyclist on the DVP. I don't think he should be there. It's probably dangerous."

Feeling like a Galilean...

A week from now, I'll be on a plane heading out to South Africa via the UK. Joyously, it will be to meet with many of the brilliant minds of the church to discuss issues and confront challenges both within and without in the coming years. It's terribly exciting to think of the people I'll be rubbing shoulders with, the voices from all over the world and the renewed vision and zeal for the Kingdom that will arise from this family gathering.
People around me have been getting excited as well, and hurriedly asking me what else is left, how am I doing, what's going to happen. Churches have been asking me how I can help liaise with them on their attempts to connect with what will be happening in real time, while I am there, and they are here.
Sadly, however, the only place where I have barely heard a peep is my own home church. My elders keep telling me that prophets are not welcome in their own hometowns, so this shouldn't surprise me at all. And it doesn't. Yet, for the past year, it has astounded me at the profound ignorance and apathy that has gripped my local family about this congress, about the issues and about what the rest of the global family is thinking and doing. For a church that claims that it is missions-minded, it has obstinately chosen to navel-gaze, choosing not to participate in where we are going, what we are thinking and who we are becoming, staying in its time-warped and ethnocentric views of the world. Sigh.
Some of these other churches and people cannot believe that my church hardly cares that I'm going. They tell me how they wish they, or someone from their congregations, were going, and how they'd give eye-teeth to do so. I can believe it, sadly.
So it's slightly bitter-sweet, my getting on this plane. The family that greets me on the other side looks to greater things, and His greater glory. The family I leave behind will likely hardly notice I left, and likely will not care about the greetings and urgings that our relatives will urgently send back with me from Africa.

Farmer's almanac

I guess part of the problem of being a dreamer is crashing and burning when reality smacks you in the face.
Case in point: I'm even getting jaded by the quirky and peculiar people of my little rural town.
Now, I'm not sure if it's me, or if it's just that simply that society has gotten more petulant, but, for highlights:

One man came into my emergency department (I'm going to emphasize this was an emergency department in a hospital; not a walk-in clinic, not a family practice clinic) telling me he hadn't had a poo in about 16 hours, basically since the night before.
"Besides," said he, "you guys are here anyways, so I thought I'd check."
"Well sir," I replied, "technically, I am only here to care for emergencies."
"This IS an emergency!" quoth he.
Suffice it to say, I quickly dispatched him from the emergency room. I warned the nurses if he showed up again, I'd give him a bowel prep, and will forever banish the notion of his being constipated ever again.

Another brought her adult daughter with a long-standing seizure disorder, worried that she was "about" to have a seizure... over the past eight hours. Wanted to 'drop her off' so our nurses could watch her overnight, 'just in case'. Ridiculous, thought I; my RNs are not Registered Nannies. Speaking to the adult daughter, who felt unwell, but certainly not definitely pre-seizure, was annoyed that her "overprotective" mother brought her in without asking her opinion on the matter - she herself felt well enough to manage at home, and certainly didn't feel she needed to be in hospital - dispatch.

One woman brought in her teenage son, that, not only had he already seen his family doctor several days before, and already had Xrays done, AND had another appointment with the family doctor the very next day, had a sore arm. Which was just a sore arm - dispatch.

The one legitimate thing I did deal with, however, was a true anaphylactic reaction - hives, swelling, throat closing, losing air, the whole kit and kaboodle. And it was great, cause we saved him (Though, admittedly, if the patient had been actually carrying an Epipen around with him and had been using it, it likely wouldn't have been as dramatic).

Another great interaction that I had was completely unexpected. One woman, who had gone for her routine mammogram a month ago, had been called back for special views, some unusual masses were seen, and it was recommended that she go for biopsy of those masses. I stepped in at this part of the story, so I arranged for her biopsies to be done on a semi-urgent basis. The patient then wanted to come in to speak to me. "Oh no," I thought, "she's going to rant and rave about how slow and incompetent I and the system are, or she's going to freak out and blubber all over me about how she's going to die, or something to that effect along that spectrum. Great."
Turns out, she was the first EVER rational patient that I've seen in this scenario. She's leaving for a short vacation tomorrow, so isn't able to accommodate a biopsy to be done for another week and a half. She feels that she would like to go on vacation anyways, as she figures, it's already been a month in the making anyways, and besides, if it does turn out to be bad news, she would have rather have gone on vacation while she still could. RATIONAL! Loved it. Cringing all the way to the clinic door, and finding a rational patient inside was a complete revelation.
But the story turns yet again; she then informs me that her faith is stronger than illness, and she is willing and able to handle whatever God throws her way - bravo for her! I then also reminded her that illness and death are but temporary things, to which she agreed and was even more satisfied in her decision to go and enjoy her vacation with her family. Kudos to her; she single-handedly reminded me that, like pearls in mud, sometimes there are people out there that make sense in the world.

FFT

So, I realize that the weblink eventually may expire, so I thought I should re-print my article online for posterity's sake (I think they have the rights to the article for a certain amount of time, but as I'm not earning anything from posting, I think maybe this is OK?). The original link is at http://www.christianweek.org/stories.php?id=1012&cat=capetown2010 .

It is with surprise and delight that I find myself among the 50 delegates chosen to represent Canada at the upcoming Lausanne Congress for World Evangelization in Cape Town, South Africa this fall. Standing amongst this country's leaders in evangelical ministry and mission, I often wonder how I could have possibly ended up with such an illustrious group.

Certainly, my work is most definitely secular. My practice as a physician, my advocacy as a food security and agricultural rights activist and my studies in global public health broaden the base from which I approach global issues and mission. I don't work in full-time ministry; I don't work as a long-term medical missionary, and I don't have any official theological training.

However, the global purposes of God's Kingdom still run through my veins as my very lifeblood, as it should invigorate and energize the entire Body in its identity and purpose. Hence, my presence signifies those of us in the Church who are not the clergy, nor in "ministry," but those in the flock who devotedly and wholeheartedly follow the Shepherd.

God's global purposes are vast. He cares about the spiritually lost to come to and reconcile with Him, but He also cares about His Kingdom Come on Earth, as it is in Heaven. Issues of injustice, poverty, the environment, slavery and the many imbalances between the Global North and the Global South are also Kingdom concerns. The face of the global church is changing, and we in the West need to respond to these changes with humility and grace, understanding that it can no longer be an us/them mentality in global mission, but the flowering of partnerships and being companions on the journey together.

There is also much brokenness within the Church, and brokenness without in the world. The Church needs to consider not only how to reconcile the brokenness within itself, but also how to demonstrate with fierce love the uniqueness of Christ in a pluralistic, multi-religious world.

This is why this upcoming Lausanne Congress is so critical in our times. We live in interesting times, indeed, and our God continues to work His purposes out and invites all of us to join Him. We, as a global family, with our brothers and sisters all across the globe, will symbolically come together in South Africa to reinforce our core beliefs as evangelicals, to envision the evangelistic task that remains and to humbly commit ourselves to lives that are fitting for both the slaves of Christ and the heirs of Christ.

Each Lausanne Congress has been a watershed moment in how the Church understands its calling into the world and has transformed the way that the Bride has gone to fulfill her purposes in it. I anticipate nothing less from this upcoming Congress; God will do great and wondrous things through His people who are called by His Name.

I expect that I will wrestle alongside leaders from across the globe with how the whole church can and should bring truth and justice to the nations, how wide the mandate and vision of the whole gospel is and just how big and how loved the whole world is. I hope this vision, brought back to the Canadian church, will inspire it onwards to greater passion and greater purpose.

We should all be excited and privileged to live in such times, to have such hope, to hold on to such treasure and to be allowed to share it with others.

The Lausanne Canada committee invites all Canadians to participate in the global conversation that is happening, even now, and into the Congress. Together, by conversing and learning from one another, we can start to catch a glimpse into the mighty purposes of God in our world today.

Inspiring stress

'Tis true: going to graduate school is quite a different phenomenon than undergraduate. Seeing as this is the first time (because I'm not promising it'll be the last!) around the graduate merry-go-round, this is interesting coming at it with the other undergrad degrees under my belt. It is really superb to be talking to profs as human beings, and meeting for coffee and meals, which is totally unheard of at the undergraduate level (unless something really dicey is going on).
However, one thing that has been a bit humbling to experience is the awe that is assumed to be my due, which is crazy, 'cause I'm such a big clutzy loser. Yet, much is expected of me, and I have already been given much advice by faculty members who have told me to aim higher, aim closer, aim precisely as to what is expected of me.
How stressful! They do remind me, as I was already well aware, that my education and my background inherently make this degree qualitatively different than it does for every single other student in my school. This puts additional pressure that is starting to make me a bit antsy, and brings up bigger questions: What am I doing here? What is the purpose? What is The Purpose in being here, and how does it help Kingdom come about?

The First Day of School

Ahhhh, the newly sharpened pencils, brand new binders, a knapsack with Dora the Explorer cleverly going on an adventure on the front.... just kidding.
What it really looks like for me is lugging my laptop, water bottle and lunch bag downtown for my first day of school (again, for the umpteenth time)! It really was like the first day of high school, or something like that - it has been so long since I've had to have a 'first day of school', I'd forgotten what it was like. Certainly, in my program, 90% of us are women, so it's made early bonding way easier.
There is something inevitably exciting about starting a new school year, however. The possibilities seem endless, the opportunities abound, the thinking and knowledge and intellectual challenges required of me almost make me swoon with delight. Obviously, this time around, it's not going to be all beds of roses - there's slightly more at stake, I now have way more responsibilities and commitments than I ever did previously, and much is expected of me. Whoa. Well, one or two credits at a time, I keep saying to myself, plod along, keep cracking at it, and it'll be done wayyyy down the road.

Seek the welfare of that city

It's been a bit hectic, running from province to province in this country over the past few weeks. That being said, being most recently in Winnipeg had me reflecting with others on the raison d'être of the city.
It has seemed to be, at least among some segments of the people that I know in my own city and in other places in the country, those that are upwardly mobile in career aspirations and income, are gradually moving out to the suburban areas of the city. Others I know, who are much more diverse in their work, incomes, and forms of what "family" is defined as, are choosing to live, work and play in the urban areas of the city.
Yet another friend, who is intending to move back downtown to the city, after living in the suburbs for several years, has been strongly encouraged to stay in the suburbs, as it is "cheaper", "safer", "better property values"....
It begs several questions: Is the city simply a utilitarian vehicle, a place where you come to earn and spend money, but have no emotional investment in, have no civic engagement, cannot suffer with it, as you sleep and 'live your life' elsewhere? If so, then I have no issue with downtown workers living in suburban areas. However, if the city is something that you love, something whose welfare you seek, something whose people and issues and mess and diversity is something to embrace and cherish, then choosing to live elsewhere and ignore the needs and demands of the city, to me, is questionable.
It also asks: Is it really cheaper, safer, etc? Cheaper per square foot, perhaps, but cheaper in terms of transport, in terms of engagement with your neighbours, in terms of time spent going from place to place? From the census data, the only truly safe place to live in Toronto is in Rosedale/Bridle Path area, and everywhere else in the city has had crime in it. But (in terms of begging for more questions), is it the role of the Christian to choose not to live in those places, to flee to "safe", homogeneous areas, or, again, is it to suffer with and love the city?
It is understandable how buffoons like Rob Ford can pander to the electorate - by choosing to target the beautiful messiness of the city and to elevate and enshrine the entitlements of the suburbs, it speaks to those who, at bottom, do not consider themselves part of the lifeblood of the city.

I could do this for a living...

So this past week marks a few milestones for me: I've had my first article published, and my first paid gig as a speaker. That's pretty cool on several fronts.
Now, it wasn't some medical research paper published in a journal - that, I've done before. But it was a short article about missiology and changing norms in the evangelical world, so that was cool. They were even gracious enough to send me a few copies.
My second stint was at a conference/retreat this weekend, where I was asked to speak about the intersection between food and faith. That was also really cool. It was a basic international food justice issues 101, really, with a resounding reminder as to why the children of God must care about land, place and space. Not just caring about individual souls, but also for all of creation, as the "gospel... has been proclaimed to every creature under heaven."
I could seriously do this for a living. It is way more intrinsically interesting than clinical work.

Fishing the high seas or pillaging the oceans

I've been out of commission for a bit, for various reasons that I'm trying to shake off, though it's not working terribly well.
However, one thing that I have been doing is finally finishing various books sitting in my bookshelf that I have taken much time (years, in some cases) to actually complete.
One book that I'm working through is Taras Grescoe's BottomFeeder. This is all the more embarrassing in that I've actually met him, he's signed my copy of the book, and we've discussed fisheries. At any rate, I suppose some would say better late than never.
It's helped clarify some of my hesitation around the ethics of seafood, and reconfirmed my cessation of the eating of shrimp, salmon, cod, etc. Taras has, in fact, written a great book - what some call the Fast Food Nation (Eric Schlosser) of the sea. Incisively talking about the horrible effects of shrimp farms on the watersheds, mangrove forests and rice fields of India and Southeast Asia, let alone the lack of scruples in the processors in treating shrimp with Borax and other foul chemicals to keep them looking nice and pink and preventing them from rotting. The discussion around the Norwegians' treatment of the BC coastline for their salmon farms, and how they have destroyed their own coastlines, bringing them to come to BC to destroy ours. How Canada almost led the way to the razing of the oceans by our spectacular collapse of its cod industry 20 years ago. How the Chinese and the Japanese, if they don't start seriously thinking about their pillaging of the oceans, will eventually cause the destruction of their very cultures. It's quite chilling.
Ironically, I went to dinner with a friend recently, and they really wanted to eat sushi. The idea of this, though I previously loved eating sushi, and then, after that, became hesitant to go, now makes my stomach turn. I'm afraid I'm down to the vegetarian udon soups and vegetable maki at sushi restaurants in order to be responsible to my Creator and His creation...

I give you 50 cents, they give you 50 cents....

Now, one thing that is truly hysterical about Asians (myself included) is how far we will go to get a deal. Now, sometimes it veers into -this is not funny anymore, now you're just taking huge advantage over someone else- territory, but most of the time, it's just damn funny.
Point: one local theatre finished its new renovations and was offering "free" movies (though it was collecting donations for a charity of their choice) today. Well, guess what: it was packed with Asians. It was actually on the verge of ridiculous. Some of us met up in the line, and I got there a bit late due to bike troubles, but when I arrived there, no joke, 80% of the line up were Asian people. OK, one weekend before, they were hardly around for the G20 protests, but, oh man, you give them free stuff, and they'll be there on the double! Some had even arrived with their own portable chairs to sit in line, that's how hard core we're talking.
The first (yes, we saw a few - hey, it's free, what do you want us to do? We are what we are - shrug) movie we saw was "How to Train your Dragon" (which, btw, was incredibly cute, and now I want a dragon too), and we were literally swimming in a sea of Asians in the theatre. Which made us all laugh in our seats, seeing everybody else, just as we were, as we knew exactly why we were all there.
I am sad to report, however, a few other things of note. The donation box that was out in the lobby was not stuffed full as far as I could tell (which doesn't surprise me, considering the demographics of who showed up for the movies). Also, the second movie we saw was an environmental defence documentary, of which, contrastingly, we were the only Asians in the room. Both of those small, yet noticeable, things made me a bit sad about other tendencies that we tend to have as a large megabloc of people....

FFT

OK, this is actually a FFT that I wrote myself, but the protestors from the G20 summit have really riled me - this is the FB status that I posted yesterday, and that one friend pointed out was not unlike a 'reverse Beatitudes' - high praise indeed! :

[I am] now really angry at all the garbage happening in my city... praying that the police officers will be all able to safely return to their families when this is all over, BUT....
- for the police officers that are heavy-handed and overstepping their boundaries - shame on you.
- for the idiots who have come to my city and destroyed its downtown, burning cars (and exuding fossil fuels) and vandalizing buildings (requiring more resources to rebuild), you make me EMBARRASSED and ASHAMED to be part of the movement - shame on you.
-for the G20 leaders (who are having a likely delicious meal prepared by Ryan and his compatriots) who choose not to act justly in the interests of all peoples of the earth - shame on you.
- for all the poseurs and voyeurs who have just gone downtown to take photographs and videos but do NOTHING to protect our city - shame on you.
- for those who on the left who claim this will all be the police's, multinationals' and G20's fault - we all know this to be untrue - shame on you.
- for all the multinational corporations that continue to act in ways that provoke people to such anger in the first place - shame on you.
- for all the (predominantly) white college kids I'm seeing wandering around, pretending to represent the Global South and the desperately poor - how do you think you managed to fly all the way here and buy the items you needed to wreck my city?? - you do not actually stand for them- shame on you.
- for the media that is running around trying to get as much footage of burning cars and police action, reveling in the violence, but not sending us clear messages as to what the protests and the G20 are about - shame on you.
- for all of you jerky anti-social types that think that you can just cause chaos and ugliness just because you can - shame on you.
- for those of you who torched cars, only blocks away from where families I know LIVE with their CHILDREN - shame on you.
- for those of you who vandalized the CBC van - you (likely American) idiots - you just vandalized the public broadcaster, not a multinational news agency - you idiots - shame on you.
- for those of you who will say this is all Harper's fault - this is only partially true - and I will remind you that the creation of the G20 was a Liberal idea - the cancer is in ALL of us - shame on you.

Righteous anger

This weekend, the G20 meets in Toronto. Now, the origins of the G20, its mandate and purpose, and its methods are all very problematic. What they represent, indeed, is concerning for many people of the planet. They do choose to work outside of the United Nations, effectively weakening the UN and its mandate to represent the interests of all nations on the earth. I do think that their emphasis on economic growth (for themselves exclusively) and half-hearted attempts at dealing with urgent justice issues (like HIV/AIDS and maternal health) is focussed a bit wrongly.
I understand how there are many who are angry, though for a myriad of different reasons, at what the G20 represents: it represents disproportionate power and disproportionate wealth.
However, what has been going on for the past twenty-four hours makes my blood boil, and makes me embarrassed and ashamed that I would even label myself as part of the movement. I am sick of hearing stupid little college kids saying that they are standing in solidarity with the Global South, and that it's the multinationals who cause all the violence, so they are justified in breaking windows at Starbucks. Gimme a break. I am sick of the excuse that because it is 'their' fault, 'our' actions are justifiable.
I went to an anti-G20 rally yesterday, hoping to be inspired to seek a different, better world, but found that it was just railing against their perception of what reality is, but offering no real practical alternatives, and only offering that another world is inevitable, possible.
Bah. The cancer is in all of us. Watching people that had flown in from around the world, railing against the oil and gas companies made me realize the futility in that, if one is not willing to acknowledge the cancer is in you, too. Watching aboriginal leaders saying it is all the government's fault, but not taking some responsibility for their own communities. Watching labour leaders saying it is all the multinationals' fault, but not taking responsibility for their own actions that account for how well (or not) the company will run. Watching activists saying that everyone deserves to have a good job, but then refusing to acknowledge that business plays a role in people getting jobs.
Ultimately, of course, it is sin which is the cancer that lies in each of us. And ultimately, these policies, meetings, protests, etc, will lead to nothing until there is actual transformation of the human heart. Until we recognize that we are all in this together, and we cannot do it alone, not without God. Until we recognize that God has given us the right to have dignity, but also the responsibility to provide dignity to others.
Today shows the lack of dignity that everyone has shown to everyone else. And this breaks my heart; if the church had stepped in a few decades before and had used its voice to speak on behalf of the voiceless, we likely would not have gotten to this point. But the Body's silence also speaks volumes...

Makes you get all racist against redneck white trash, don't it??

I think I have to relegate it to my going through another bout of nightmares, and being over-tired to reacting so emotionally today.
It's quite a common occurrence for health care staff to get verbally abused by patients - it's par for the course, and eventually you kind of get immune to all the complaints and yelling. Today was no different - we had a patient who had been waiting for 90 minutes in the emergency dept (I'm going to point out they'd only waited 90 minutes in an emergency department), and they had even gone home in between to get a bit of lunch (so technically they hadn't even waited for 90 minutes), who started getting verbally abusive, going through the regular rants of how incompetent and lazy we are, how they pay taxes and deserve better treatment than that, etc etc. Par for the course. No big deal - I quite pointedly stated that there are other patients, sicker patients, we'll get to you when we get to you.
Eventually, of course, they're chewing out the nurses, starting to become physically aggressive and starting to vandalize the emergency department. We give them another warning - but again, no big deal, still par for the course. Normal behaviour, nothing terribly unusual on a day to day basis.
They then pull out the big guns and start calling us very unladylike names (along the lines of dogs, crude anatomical structures, prostitutes, and the like), which then got me justifiably angry, so I called the OPP to escort them from my emergency department.
Which, of course, made them decide to leave before the cops arrived. But on the way out, they reminded me that I'm just a Chink, and that I should just go back to my country, 'cause people like me don't belong here. (See, that's making me cry again just typing it out). After they left, I couldn't finish my report to the OPP because I was crying too much, and one of the nurses had to give the report.
And that's the crazy thing: I can take verbal abuse, I can take crude language, and dish it out equally, but that (besides being incredibly inaccurate and ignorant, not being Chinese and being born here to boot) just cut me through. And I'm not sure why having my femininity challenged is something that can get me angry and react for justice, but challenging my racial identity makes me so upset. I think perhaps when you hear 'bitch' or 'whore' heard many times in different contexts (including in music and regularly on the street), it becomes relatively meaningless. However, words like 'nigger', 'jap', 'chink', 'paki' and the like bear so much weight and oppression on them, that they are heavy slaps in the face that draw your breath when you encounter them. And they are oppressive terms: terms developed by the white majority to perjure the coloured minorities, and they have been used that way ever since.
The plus side in all of this is that this patient is now banned from seeking care in this particular network, and I explicitedly asked the OPP if that patient came back, and I slugged them in the face, would that be a problem, and they didn't seem to think so, then that's helpful :).

Exfoliating epidermis

One thing you need to know about Koreans; they like to exfoliate. A lot. Scrub right down past several layers of dead epidermis to get down to the clean layers.
After returning from Haiti, I'd been feeling particularly dirty and knowing that I bore the dirt and grime of several cities and countries. I'd heard that Korean sauna/spas offered body scrubs in NYC, so I figured there must be some equivalent here, so I found out that yes, we do have one here in the city. So, off I went, sweated and rehydrated in the sauna, and then went to get my epidermis removed.
You know that scene in the Lion, Witch and the Wardrobe series where Edmund becomes a dragon, and in order to be returned to his original shape, Aslan has to scratch and tear at his dragon flesh to get to the soft boy flesh underneath? Yeah, that was it. It was pretty awesome. I know people usually tell me that I have good skin in the first place, but it is particularly amazing to me now, like I had lost all my dragon scales and returned to human flesh. I'm afraid they've gotten themselves a repeat customer....

Using the same vocabulary

I am so very chuffed; I get totally excited by our missions conference every year, to be sure, but this year is particularly so. I mean, the people who organize it always come through with some of the most incredible people in our world today, and it is a privilege to be in their presence to learn and engage with.
However, this is the first time in a long time, that I am hearing people speak the same language as I. No, not that nobody has ever spoken English to me before, but it is as if this vocabulary, this language, these semantics, these nuances and expressions are coming through piercingly sharp and clearly in focus. It is almost as if you manage quite well through life with 20/20 vision, and one day, your vision improves to 20/10, and the edges are more crisp, the vision is clearer than air, the colours even more vibrant. It is as if your visual comprehension of the world comes through in technicolour and beyond.
It is this way now. It is as if they are speaking what I say in my heart and my mind every day. Discussing with one of them strategies for the Kingdom, and speaking of what I understand, he stopped me and said, "You are speaking our language!", to which I laughingly replied, "But you are speaking mine!".
It is profound, to resonate with what one hears. I feel like a tuning fork, forced to quiver at the exact same frequency that is rumbling through the earth, the mighty rumblings of God and His righteousness and His justice upon the earth.

Haiti IX

Haitian Creole is a language unto itself; it is a mixture of French, Spanish and other conquerors' languages, created out of necessity by slaves from all sorts of different people groups out of Africa, desperate to find some means of communication amongst themselves that the 'blans' couldn't fully understannd. For, you see, the French were quite smart; they split up families and people groups, so, like the Tower of Babel, these new slaves wouldn't be able to communicate with one another and perhaps be able to plan and plot to overthrow the oppressor.
I am finding I can understand the general gist of conversations going on; I even found I could keep up with a sermon (in a service where I preached a mini-sermon of my own) in Creole. However, I'm only picking up about 60% of what's being said...

Haiti VIII

I know I've mentioned this before, but being able to authentically start crossing cultures, by being humble and choosing to learn, rather than informing cultures what to do and how to do them, stripping them of power and dignity, is an incredible gift. I myself am not great at it either; I hope and pray that I hold myself in a learner's position. I know that I am not good at listening humbly to my own culture; I feel like I am perpetually gouging out the log in my own culture's eye and prophetically (or, some would say, obnoxiously) speak perpetually about our own logs. I have been trying to understand the Haitian's point of view here and struggling between two cultures. Being the only person in the group who is, not able to speak to heart language of the Haitians, but able to converse in a language more easily spoken by them, leaves me in a vulnerable position on the team, as there is a sense I am on the "side" of the Haitians.
However, there are no sides here, though lines are being drawn. I know I tend to want to fall under the authority of national partners, rather than imposing my culture's point of view.
To me, my observed experiences thus far of agencies here shows the continued imperialism and arrogance that we in the West are constantly accused of (and in fact practice) when we are invited (or not) into other countries to serve them.

Haiti VII

Yesterday we went to a clinic in a village, and held it in the local church. It was stifling in there, as the building was enclosed and had a tin roof. You know there's something wrong with you when you step outside of a hot building and think, "Ah! What a refreshing day it is outside!", when it's actually 37C outside. It's gotta make you wonder just how hot it was inside the building in order to make 37C "refreshing".
However, that's not the point of the post. Our clinic was interrupted by screams and yelling outside (never a good sign). We found ourselves witness to a domestic assault, with the man beating the woman with a chair and a bicycle. We were advised to not get involved, and some of our translators and others relatively quickly dissipated the conflict. However, there were certain aspects about this that disturbed me (and not just the fact that I was prevented from participating in some greatly anticipated vigilante justice). One, many of the young men and boys were standing around and watching. And choosing not to participate. If men choose not to participate in administering justice, then they are continually and consistently choosing injustice. Secondly, one of our (male) team members patiently explained to me that there may have been reasons and justifications for his actions that we cannot know and that we cannot judge.
Hence, I suppose, that we can allow pedophilia, suppression of women, domestic violence and rape to continue, as we cannot know the hidden conflicts ad stresses that drive men to do such horrible things to women. Talking to one of the ex-Christians here, the lack of pursuit of a true, deep justice is one of the reasons why the Church is so very flawed, and 'logically' also, it's leader. That breaks my heart.

Haiti VI

You can tell that Haiti was at one point in its history, a beautiful country; there is much coastal land and mountains. But one can also see what (for a MYRIAD of reaons) poor judgement and wisdom have done here.
Much of the land, previously lush and fertile forests, is denuded of trees; 98% of the land is deforested, it has one of the highest rates of soil erosion, and this year's current crop is being threatened as the rainy season has yet to start (though that is a small mercy, in some ways, as many Haitians and NGOs are working to get their homes/tents to higher ground).
Now I have never been to another Carribean country before, so I suppose I cannot compare, but it seems to me that there is a tragic beauty here, a faded past that I hope one day can return.

Haiti V

I'm a bit conflicted here on a lot of different levels. I feel like I am violating many of my fundamental principles of how I understand justice, missions, global dynamics and politics, and equity. And I don't think it's in a good way, in a kind of "Oh, God's really stretched me to reconsider the boundaries of His love and His grace", rather, I feel that I am compromising, shrinking, oppressing and contributing more to the net suffering of the world rather than alleviating some of it.
I don't know yet, this early on, if that will change, and God will provide some great grace from this messiness that I am an accomplice of.
This will likely not make much sense to many of you, and I'd likely spend years trying to explain it, and I highly doubt even my travelling companion would bother to get it. We shall see if God's great grace comes shining through, or if He chooses to withhold redemption at this point.

Haiti IV

Faith is one of those funny things; it is so nebulous and unexplainable sometimes that it's overwhelming, sometimes so incredible and preposterous in light of what reality seems to demonstrate. I think faith is definitely a gift, but also sometimes a gullible naivete. I wonder why, when I look at the Bride, so gawdy, so fat and greedy and ugly, unmerciful and unjust, how I can continue to doggedly follow the carpenter from Nazareth? I am not sure most days.
This is not some pathetic cross-cultural shock of some sort, but in considering how to go forward, how to press on towards the goal, how to proclaim the Kingdom's coming, it begs the question: how does one follow the man of Galilee, the King and crucified One?

Haiti III

It is no easy task to bring acute relief in any form, medical or otherwise. People often wonder, both from donor and recipient nations, why aid often seems so slow in coming, that it seems that only the privileged few have access, etc.
One needs to realize, as I have, that the task is enormous. Even if there are supplies and donations available, how can one transport them into the country? Once it does, how can one ensure that corrupt officials do not deny entry, ask for 'tariffs' or bribes, or that you can actually collect your goods? After this, how does one transport the goods if one does not have a reliable source for a vehicle, diesel fuel, nor have the infrastructure for roads or airstrips? How then does one decide where the aid goes if you don't understand the culture or the societal structures that govern the group? How can you ensure that the most vulnerable get the aid, when it may just be the family members of the most powerful or influential? These are not easy questions, and oftentimes you are left sleeping with the enemy to at least have some aid to go somewhere to someone...

Haiti II

I think the cliche is true; you can't believe it till you see it. Now, I am no advocate for disaster tourism, but being driven through the heart of Port-au-Prince and seeing teetering precarious buildings, piles of rubble and the vast fields of the tent cities was unreal. Kind of like the unreal in seeing the vestiges of the 2004 tsunami, or the realities of starvation in northern Africa, or the lot of women in the Middle East, or the teeming masses in China. But you get what I mean.
There are a few other things that I also find astounding here; I have seen many multinational corporations here with their HQs being immaculate, strong buildings, next to tent cities - one has to ask themselves whether the corporations are more interested in cashing in on this poverty and the millions of dollars in aid sent here (for they are, on the most part, major vehicle makers from around the world, which is critical for the NGOs to do their work), rather than actually investing back in the people and the nation.
But I also see the resilience here: make-shift markets are happening, even in the shadow of very collapsible buildings. You can, unfortunately, see the starting of permanence in some of the tent cities (oh!!! But the blatant lack of security in those tents for the women and children in this country!). I don't think, however, that many schools have yet opened again...

Haiti I

I'm supposed to start this with a disclaimer: The opinions expressed on this blog are purely those of myself. In no way, shape or form does this necessarily align with the opinions of my traveling companion at all - he'd just like to make that clear. :)

En route, it became increasingly obvious that there were many other aid workers of various stripes heading down to Haiti. One thing I must mention, however: there were certainly a ton of the evangelical kind. Which, of course, in and of itself is not a bad thing, seeing as I'm one of those myself. What I could not abide, however, was how blatantly obvious that they were: T-shirts blaring "missionary", or "God is coming to Haiti", or "Christian mission" - all of them in gaggles wearing the same tribal colours to self-identify themselves.
These types of Christians creep me out. To me, it denotes utter lack of humility and wisdom; who says that one group or another has the monopoly on deciding who gets to bring God to town??? Would they even have the gall to wear such kind of gear if they were going to such places as China or Saudi Arabia?? I would hope and pray not. However, if bearing that bare minimum of knowledge of cross-cultural sensitivity, you'd persist with that kind of behaviour just because it's Haiti, that shows a breathtaking amount of cultural arrogance....

Gone earthquakin'

We'll be off within the next 30 hours or so to Haiti, so for those of you eagerly anticipating another round of real, legitimate PFTEs (haven't really had a set since China, I think) will have to wait for a little longer. As you can imagine, internet access may be a bit spotty; I have every intent of blogging about our adventures while we are there, but if WiFi access is tight, then it may just result in a huge deluge of postings when we return...

Why locality is so critical...

What I haven't really been able to comprehend in all of this discussion of the ash cloud over Europe is how business and industry have been slamming governments' decisions to close airspace. The closure of airspace, though inconvenient, was precautionary in order to prevent unnecessarily stupid deaths in airplane malfunction.
However, all we've heard from industry is how this was 'short-sighted' and unnecessary. Excuse me? What I cannot understand is why the media is allowing it to have press conferences expounding how European governments don't know what they are doing. We all know industry has an obvious agenda; the longer the planes are on the ground, the more money that they lose (oh, boo hoo). That is the only reason why they want the planes in the air - they want them for the money, irrespective of whether scientists don't think that airplanes are necessarily safe to fly and may actually endanger life - as long as the almighty dollar rules, planes will fly, lives be damned.
What I also cannot fathom is why the critical questions of globalization are not being brought to the forefront - there are good reasons why those of us who advocate for supporting local business, local farmers, local artisans and local industry do so. Not only because we support our neighbours and our communities, but also because the supply chain is short. I do not worry that I will not put food on the table, as I know I can easily reach the farmers who create my food. However, apparently fish supplies have been worrisome here in our city as they could not be imported, via Europe. Excuse me? We have plenty of fish here - what is wrong with it? Flowers have been rotting in Kenya, and thousands of Kenyans have lost jobs and hope, as flower factories there (don't even get me started with the labour abuses, environmental destruction and social chaos these factory farms have caused in Africa) have been unable to export to the European and North American markets. Excuse me? What is wrong with the flowers we grow (in season) here?
Ach. Human nature. Soon, we will forget of these small inconveniences, and few people, let alone businesses will critically analyze from just how far away all the things they think they 'need' come from...

FFT

The Seven Deadly Social (as opposed to 'carnal') Sins

Politics without Principle
Wealth without Work
Commerce without Morality
Pleasure without Conscience
Education without Character
Science without Humanity
Worship without Sacrifice

-Mahatma Ghandi

Black, white and the gray points in between

A friend of mine today was explaining to me that life was actually quite simple. Really?
He assures me that all decisions and situations in life come down to black and white paradigms, so life actually is quite easy to navigate. Really?
I suppose it is true: if you can see the world in a simplified black and white dichotomous paradigm, it would be easy to cruise through life. You're wrong, I'm right. This is bad, that is good. This stays, that goes. I'm in, you're out. Easy.
However, the overwhelming evidence demonstrates to me that life, decisions, circumstances, situations, etc are rarely as easy as a binary choice. There are always shades on the gray-scale that mitigate and modify choice. Being able to distill the liquor of life to two options is something that proves elusive to me.
Take something that I do for a living: teen pregnancy. Sure, getting pregnant out of wedlock, when you're certainly not mature or capable of taking care of a child is incredibly unfair to the coming child. On the other hand, terminating the pregnancy because that would be the more convenient option is also seen as a 'bad choice'. On the other hand (the third hand), the option of giving up one's child for adoption, though seen as a 'solution' by some can leave the mother with scars of guilt and regret for years to come. On the other, other hand (the fourth hand), leaving the child to be raised alone by a mother who is but a child herself is also not ideal. Lots of gray all over the place on that one. Sure, you can be black and white, condemn the girl (but noooo, never the boy) for getting pregnant and telling her she should have had the moral fortitude (or at least the organizational ability to get on reliable contraception) to resist, but that doesn't change the fact that life happens anyways.
Sometimes I think black and white thinkers make it so, as it simplifies things greatly, and one doesn't have to take into account individual factors. I would love to think in black and white; I could have knee-jerk or rote answers to everything, and never have to consider other issues that would be game-changers. I suppose that could have me labelled as wishy-washy, or indecisive, but I can't imagine anyone accusing me of that...

I am actually quite normal, thank you.

I find myself in a very ungrateful position, but it really must be said: I am getting quite weary of being told how amazing and/or incredible I am. Now, before you think that I'm that narcissistic that this is not enough for me, or something, there are a couple of components to this complaint.
One, there are a terribly large lot of women that I think are really quite amazing in their own rights. Women who do incredibly generous, skillful, talented things. I don't really think that I'm much better than many other women that I know of. I think, actually, that there are lots of other more fantastic things that other women I know are involved in and do - from freeing trafficked girls, to ministering to prostitutes, to organizing international conferences, to doing research, to speaking out against injustice in all its forms, to publicly role model for change, to changing policies, hearts and minds every day. That's amazing.
Second, I'm not sure that what I do is particularly amazing, per se, or if it's actually normal. We've been given finite amounts of time in this life, and we have been called to be ambassadors for Christ, so how does this excuse us to sit in our cubicles all day, go home to make supper and then sit around and watch TV? We have all been called to be and do so, so, so much more than this, such that, most of what I do, I feel, is not even maximizing the opportunity or the choice of what I am able to do in this world. We have all been given so very much, that wasting one's life on the trivial, the mundane, or the useless just seems, well, pathetic and wasteful.
Third, the other big issue is that I have only ever heard this from the mouths of other women. I have yet to hear that kind of validation regularly from men. I hear it quite a lot from women, over and over and over again. I am deeply appreciative, but I think women inherently recognize and validate worth when they see it, and attempt to dignify it by elevating it when it is needed. It would be nice to hear that kind of validation from the other side, as it's hard to know: Is it because I really don't deserve the accolades at all, or it's not recognizable and thus doesn't deserve validation, or it would just be too darn hard for men to actually dignify the women amongst them?

On a completely different note

I'm realizing there are a scant few people that I know are regular readers of this blog. However, I do note that there are quite a few regular perusers, but I have no idea who they are, and many of them are right within my area code!
Please do drop a line, and let me know if you're reading - it's awfully encouraging to know that someone's paying attention out there!

Bring Food Home

I haven't had much to write on, or at least anything that I'd be willing to post in public, for the last little while. However, I thought I'd muse on a very inspiring conference that happened two weeks ago now. Farmers, food activists, community advocates and others came together to talk about food in a new way. I think there was some real momentum there from everyone attending.
Since then, I've read in several newspapers of the rather depressing rightward-leanings that Canadians are heading to (which always happens whenever there's an economic recession - don't get me started on right-wing economical policies, 'cause that will just get me really upset), and the inevitable 'bubble' that's about to burst of the local foods/local economies movement.
However, it does point out to me the lack of broad-based appeal that's inherent in many social justice movements. One of the discussion groups I was participating in was the very real issue of racial diversity (or lack thereof).
Inevitably, the reality is that the majority of farmers in this country are white. There are many immigrants who wish to farm, but, due to their lack of capital, cannot invest in farmland (who can? Even young farmers I know can only dream of owning their own farm, mainly because of heartless, greedy developers and inane, thoughtless politicians) to pursue their dream of farming. Also, many ethnicities in the city participate in urban agriculture, though they would never label it as such, and to bring them to the table to broaden the scope of how food reaches us and our plates, would be awesome. There's also the reality that many of the people participating in social justice movements are those people who have already secured their wealth and their positions in society, or they are the children of those very same.
There's also the very real, and very scary, trend that second generational people move to the suburbs. They buy big homes. They buy big cars. They live the big life, far from soil, and land, and sky, and air. They live disconnected from the reality of good, strong earth, and live wired to concrete and fibre-optic lines.
As I always say, the biggest hurdle to overcome is this one. The reason why immigrants come here is so that their children will have big houses and big money and big comforts. "Besides, if I wanted to live in high-density housing, grow my own food and ride my bicycle everywhere, I would've stayed in my village in (fill in the blank country here)".
But this is the problem: those countries developed high-intensity networks to house, feed and transport people out of necessity. We are talking about doing that, not out of necessity, but to prepare for the inevitable reality that we will eventually have to. Until people of my socio-economic demographic start realizing that we are part of the problem, we won't participate in the solutions...

Going through open doors

This whole concept of God "opening doors" is not very clear to me. I think sometimes it's a fallacy, really - just because everything happens to be going your way doesn't necessarily mean that it's the right way to go. I mean, broad is the path that leads to deception and all.
I find myself talking with the same vocabulary of looking to see if 'barriers fall' or 'doors open' when looking for things that are 'meant to be' or 'in God's will'. However, I don't necessarily think it's as easy as that. If life was super easy, and all one had to do was go along the path of least resistance, then shouldn't life be way less complicated than it really is? It almost sounds zen or new age-y when you talk that way, about following the path of least resistance, but for some reason, we talk the same reasoning, but use different semantics. Strange.
That being said, I too, over the past few days had been looking for 'doors to open' in order to follow what I really wanted to do. Seven, in fact. And, each of them had given way, one by one, over the short span of 36 hours, allowing me to be free to go. Go where? I'll report on that later...

Food, glorious food...

This has been/will be a very busy Food season for me. Last week was the annual COG-Toronto conference, with me getting some fan-girl photos with Michael Schmidt and Percy Schmeiser, some of the most famous farmers we have in this country (hee hee, with me getting all giggly and groupie - one friend noted I'm the only person they know that wants my picture taken with farmers instead of rock stars, Bono excepted). A lot of emphasis on the evil of GMOs, of which I am slightly on the agnostic fence about, but a good conference overall. Followed by Seedy Sunday, which for me, always indicates the first sign of spring - looking forward to getting out and working the 'garden' again!
Last night, FoodShare kicked off its first ever, inaugural fundraiser, which was so lovely, and the energy was just awesome. I am so indebted to the generosity of the chefs in this city and our staff, who brought together an amazing assortment of delicacies and delights all under one roof! And then, to cap it all off, possibly one of the biggest Ontario food security conferences coming next week (yay! with more fan-girl photos to come!)!.
Certainly, it's been a lot of food, and a lot of fun... tomorrow is going to be rather tame, with me cooking dinner for a few good friends at their house, in comparison...

Seriously? I'm not that wise.

It's not often that I get complimented on things. Not that I particularly mind, or am looking for validation; it's just one of those things. However, I received one of the best compliments ever the other night. I had some folk from church over for supper, and one guy was stunned to find out that I work as a doctor.
"Really?" he said, "I had always thought you were a theologian, studying to be a pastor, or at least a theology student!"
That's awesome! He had said he had just assumed that because of the way I talked and discussed things at church. He was then surprised to hear I had never been to Bible college, never been to seminary, and never taken any theological courses at all, which impressed him all the more.
I'm flattered (not that he meant it at all to be a flatterer). It's not quite being told that I clearly bear the fruit of the Spirit, and it could be understood the wrong way, in that I am so puffed up with knowledge, that I have no practical application of my faith. However, I definitely take it on the positive note, as that is very humbling to think someone thought I was wise enough to be a theologian. The indirect compliment on my brain was greatly appreciated; currently, he's sitting as "one of my favorite people" on the imaginary list of "favorite people" that I keep... :P

FFT

This is really for my own interest, as it had been shared with me in a talk many years ago. I realize, as one develops more and more of a public voice, this becomes increasingly important. Even without forays into the public domain, these are still things to consider, especially as all of our private lives, whether we like it or not, become more exposed to the public domain... Perhaps philandering celebrities also should take these little tests into consideration as well...

To justify any action, one needs to consider:
1. Red-faced test: Would you be embarassed if others knew what you did?
2. Gold fish bowl test: Could you justify your actions if they became public knowledge?
3. Aristotle's test: Would you act the same in other similar cases?
4. Insomnia test: Can you sleep soundly at night with your decision?
5. Mother test: Would you act the same if it was your mom?

Shuddering with SDs

I'm going to muse on and off this weekend, since I'm stuck in the hospital for 48 hours, so I've certainly got time to kill...
I remember being quite good at math when I was a kid. I even participated in math contests in high school, I was that stereotypically nerdy.
But seriously, since I finished those mandatory first year math courses in undergrad, I have barely done anything involving a calculator for years - I don't even do my own taxes!
So, suffice it to say, when I was told I have to have a mandatory undergraduate statistics course done before the end of May this year, I had a small frisson up my spine; I hadn't done any sort of math for over a decade! You'd think a modern, intelligent woman like myself could handle a stupid little undergrad course, but I'd been moaning and groaning in anticipation of horrid, complicated formulas that would make me go cross-eyed and even more myopic. And it's true; I'm still moaning and groaning, though through only the first one-sixth of the course, it hasn't been as horribly awful as I was afraid of. Sure, it's work, but I have to keep reminding myself that if some 19 year old pre-med keener can do this course, then so can I.

Break dividing walls

While I was in the UK, I was considering the deep beauty and mystery of cross cultural missions. Not just in the example of people leaving to serve overseas, but just the deep reconciliation and understanding across gender, across colour, across ethnicity, across socio-economic class and culture.
There is something so heart-achingly beautiful in watching someone struggling to deliberately shed one's own skin and baggage in order to try to put on another one.
Perhaps it's because it isn't seen that often. Perhaps it's because it is far too hard. Perhaps it's because it is far easier, far more comfortable, to love those who are 'like'. Look like me. Talk like me. Eat like me. Dress like me. Walk like me. Socialize like me. Spend money like me. Understand the world like me. Hate the same things like me. Believe things like me.
We have been called to be bridge-builders, to be ambassadors for the ministry of reconciliation, to be those who stand in the gap, to be those who no longer see male nor female, slave nor free, Jew nor Gentile.
Yet we do see. And distinguish. And divide. So the question remains: how to bring that beauty, that mystery, of the power of reconciliation? How to be so humble that those dividers, those walls, are broken, to bring about true community, true Kingdom?

England II (but far and away)

Had a lovely time in the UK - wonderful people that I think are some of the awesomest people on earth, lots of good food and fun and hopefully I contributed something useful to boot!
However, I was going to write about my flight home, cause my flight there was vaguely sucky cause I couldn't sleep, and there weren't any good movies on, and our flight took two hours longer than it really should have in the air for various reasons.
At any rate, not only did our flight leave right on time, but the food on the flight was actually yummy! And, which was even more awesome, the chicken tikka actually had an ingredient list on the package, and it was all food - no preservatives, no hydrogenated palm oil - all food! I was so very pleased. And then, there were two awesome movies I'd been wanting to see - It Might Get Loud, a documentary on three skilled and talented electric guitarists (Jack White, Jimmy Page and The Edge - you can take a wild guess who I was looking out for!), as well as Paper Heart (which actually kind of wasn't as great as I was hoping it was going to be). Then, I got to help in a medical non-emergency (thank goodness; I don't know what I would've done with myself if there was a real emergency - maybe pretend I wasn't a doctor or something), which was, I guess, a relatively soft way of getting back to work. The only downside is I didn't receive anything for my pains - an upgrade, a few air miles, something? Oh well.
And then, to boot, our flight landed early! I couldn't believe it; one of the smoothest flights ever (barring being bumped to First Class on my flight to Shanghai - that has got to be my best flight ever, though I spent the vast majority of it sleeping perfectly horizontally, which is why it rocked so much)!
Yay on British Airways! Good service, great flight.
Yup, I spent an entire blog post talking about how great the flight was. But it really was actually an enjoyable flight, and considering I don't actually love the sitting-on-the-plane bit of travelling, that's actually a good thing.