Trust

During the past week, trust has definitely been my chosen and purposely, internally reinforced theme for the sake of my own survival as yet again I have faced my annual visa renewal stresses.  What was it this year? 

Well, I get my visa and work permit through a Foundation.  This means that my papers are first sent to the Ministry of Social Development where they are inspected so that a letter of approval can be issued for me to get my visa to stay in Thailand.  Being aware that my visa expires next week, I have been waiting and waiting to get this letter so that I can then go to Immigration.  Why, I have been asking, was it taking so long for a one page, form letter to arrive? 

The official answer was that the Director of this Ministry has a mountain of such applications which require his attention as only he can sign any letter of approval.  For me, this is all part of the bureaucratic nightmare that is the Thai government.  You might need to get your visa and it might be about to expire but no one cares or rushes as you just have to stand back and allow the required government process take its time and be followed.  Nothing will take it off track or rush it.  There is absolutely nothing you can do when faced with the reality of Thai bureaucracy.  You feel stressed out and worry. Knowing that won't achieve anything, you try to cut out the stress but it remains.  All you can do is trust. 

And you know what?  In the end, trust did work.  Thai bureaucracy might be a nightmare but it is a nightmare for everyone - Thai and foreigner.  What worked for me as for all of us in this situation is the other side of the reality.  Namely, it was the good people who are my friends and work for me who helped me make it through to the other side and get all the paper work done (and there is a mountain of it) so that I could renew my visa just in time. 

I must remember the lesson of this week.  Trust does work because of faith in a good end and because of good people in your life who help you get there.  So 'trust and be' is the way to go.  The picture says it all - just be who you are and trust in the way ahead and that it will all work out okay.  What better choice is there?   

A Picture Tells a Thousand Words

Well, today, 20th June, is World Refugee Day and I did go to the celebrations at BRC. 

They say a picture tells a thousand words.  So my story today is the pictures I share.  They tell it all.  Just look at the faces - so happy and so proud. 

I followed my colleague's advice and I did use the day to connect with the good people who help these refugees.  I also followed my own hunch and came to support the ones I walk with in my ministry.  They teach me so much.  Thanks heaps!  I respect you so and pray for you everyday. 

20th June each year is World Refugee Day.  Each year it is a huge celebration at the Bangkok Refugee Centre (BRC), with a UNHCR speech, with a UNHCR budget for the party, with the refugees coming in droves to put on a show, see the show, enjoy the activities and have a feed - complete with ice-cream.  The refugees love it.  Maybe it is the free feed, maybe it is the free entertainment, maybe it is the socialising, maybe it is the chance to show off and tell the world "We are here!".  It is definitely a day they all look forward to and love.

Despite all this, it is a day each year when I face the same dilemma.  I ask - What are we celebrating? People's misery?  Every other day of the year I can't get a bottle of milk through UNHCR to feed a hungry child of an asylum seeker family as they are not within their funding categories but, on this day, UNHCR comes forward with the big budget to put on the big show for all to see - not just the refugees but also their partners and others.  Is this about a big show for UNHCR? 

So I wrestle with trying to make sense of what we are celebrating and its purpose.  I share with a couple of ones I trust and respect in this area of work and I come to make some sense of it all. 

It is about letting the refugees celebrate and enjoy themselves just for one day in the year, letting them show off and show outsiders a good side to who they are as they entertain and share their identity.  They feel some pride in doing this.  So let them be proud of who they are, whereevr they may come from. It is also about letting donors see the positive side and so invite them in a positive way to support these people who need every bit of support.

So I guess I keep my dilemma to myself for the sake of the greater good of the refugees.  I will go to BRC for the day and join in with everyone else.  Still my two big questions do remain.  Are we celebrating people's misery as they await a homeland?  How does UNHCR get money for this but not to help these people survive the rest of the year? 

My questions may seem strange to others but they are my questions and I have the right to question and make my little protest.  I will just have to find a good and constructive way not to seek the answers but to fly the questions because they are mine and they need to be heard.   

Jack Murray Place

Last Sunday, the local council named a park after dad, calling it Jack Murray Place.  If you read the sign that names the park, it reads as follows:
"John P Murray MBE was a respected and distinguished member of the Nundah community until his passing in 2012.  He was active in the Rotary Club of Nundah, the Salvation Army Red Shield Appeal, Nundah Scouts, Combined Service Clubs Committee and was a founding member of the Golden Years Centre (now Nundah Activities Centre).  He owned and operated California Drycleaners in Nundah for many years and was fondly known as 'California Jack'."

This says a mouthful about dad in his community.  His life was mum and the family, his Church, his community and the business, and they were all intertwined.   

Like I said about little Nicky in my last entry, we all come from somewhere.  This statement on dad speaks of where I come from and of what makes me who I am. 

When at school, I remember always wanting to be a priest.  Every year, I would put my hand up to talk with the priest who was the Vocations Director when he came to visit school.  At a time, that was replced by wanting to be an Air Force pilot but being a priest remained paramount.  On finishing Year 12, I naturally went to the seminary.  It was there I had my first, great questioning about my vocation and so I left to find my answers. 

In part, my questioning at that time arose because I saw dad and how he was so involved in the community, doing so much good.  At the age of 18, it made me think that you don't have to be a priest to do good.  I could just be a good person like dad and not have all the other stuff with being a priest.  So I had to go away and answer this question for myself.  Do I have to be a priest to do good?  Of course, I know that I don't but back then it was not so clear.  Looking back, dad was such a strong influence on what I wanted to do in life that it made me question how to do what I wanted to do and who to be to achieve it. 

Obviously for me, the answer over much time and struggle is that to be me and to do what I choose to do in life is to be a priest.  It is my way to serve, to live life and face its struggles.  Dad had his way.  I have mine.  The two are both about following the same story line but in our own unique ways.   Like Mark Twain, it took me time but I have come to appreciate my father's rightful place in my life and for that I am truly grateful. 

He's only a three year old boy.

Nicky is a little boy with a big smile and big, open eyes.  He draws you in immediately with his personal magnetism, proceeding to engage you in his young and enthralling conversation.  As you are around him, you have to keep reminding yourself that he is still only a three year old boy.  Where did such a boy come from? 

His parents are Sri Lankan, having fled their country due to personal safety threats.  This led them to Thailand to seek refugee status.  Since being here, they have had their little boy who has never been inside Sri Lanka. His parents are both intelligent and competent adults, taking up so capably the challenge not just to survive but to live.  They have created ways ahead in the midst of their own traumatic story, never having been defeated by all the hardships and disappointments that have come their way.  So many of us would never know half of what they have gone through in their time here. 

So that is where Nicky comes from.  It is no wonder he is who he is - a little boy full of life and just so bright and happy.  He is loved by all at the Bangkok Refugee Centre.  Just recently, he started what we would call kindergarten and he now appears in his school uniform.  He looks so cute. He may be three but he can confidently speak to you in English, Thai or Sinhalese. 

In the midst of a small but desperate and ravaged population that is my urban refugee community, and some community it is, there are many signs of hope.  Nicky is but one.  He may only be a three year old boy but he sure shines forth a heap of hope and that is what this community needs.  And isn't that what we all need?