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It’s been a while. Sometimes life gets away from us and suddenly five months has gone by without a post.
I thought at this point I’d have exciting news to share! I thought I would get to write about a new venture for my husband and I, about a dream taking shape, about our movement into a new stage.
Instead, I get to write about disappointment.
My husband and I were pursuing the purchase of a coffeehouse. We were going to use it as a place to engage within the community, to have honest, hard conversations about violence and current issues. We were going to give back to local nonprofits and create a place to be creative, build community and just be.
We had found the perfect location, a cute little coffeehouse ten minutes from our house, with tons of charm and lots of potential. But, in the end, got out bid for the property.
I was heartbroken. Devastated really. This was a dream I could see, touch, taste, it was reality to me. It was so real and vivid – so to have it taken away so decisively was a blow.
I have to admit it still stings. We have looked into other coffee shops and other locations but nothing feels as right as that little place on the corner did. We have decided to wait on starting something realizing this might not be where we want to settle long-term.
It is what you do in moments of disappointment that reveal where your faith truly lies.
I trust that in the right time it will all come together, that the vision will come back as strong as it was before and that we will be able to find the investors and backers we need. I hope someday we can make this dream a reality, that we can engage and give back as we want to, that we can tie into the organizations we love in a unique way. But for now, we are scanning the horizon for the next chapter while loving where we are and making the most out of it.
from: http://www.thestoribook.com/2012/09/07/local-coffee/

How have you handled having a dream put on hold? 

Written the week after the Waldo Canyon Fire:


It has been an interesting two weeks. I have gone from elation, jubilation, and joy to sobbing on the floor, crying out to God, knowing in my heart He is in control but my head not knowing what to hold onto.

Now, with our home safe and the future a bit more secure I come to reflect.

Two weeks ago was perfect. 80 friends and family gathered with D and I as we joined our lives together. A afternoon storm gave way to an ideal evening, with amazing weather. The food was divine, the conversation rich. I got to touch base with dear friends I had not seen since before DC. My boss from college was close in those days, being one of the women to stand beside me, and her presence there - I can't even articulate what it meant. And in the middle of that - a new family. D's family was there. His father, sisters, and his children. Three kids I am still getting to know, who I already love, who have been there for me as I've waited for news on my parent's home.

Getting home from Santa Fe the routine of "settling in" was broken Saturday afternoon by a blume of smoke over my sister's home in Cascade and a text message verifying the fire was close. A call from my mom and then the dreaded wait that so many know and hate. Another call - come now - and off to my parent's house I raced.

The house in chaos, people trying to figure out what to take. Unsure where to begin, where anything is. I started to grab photos, computer towers, my grandmother's recipe box. How do you explain this situation to a child - 9, 6, 3 years old? Waiting for the return of my father from his place of work, things hastily packed in wisdom, items his employers now treasure to have. 60+ years of business reduced to rubble and the community mourns with him the loss of what once was a COS icon.

Then waiting. I hate waiting.

Back to work - life goes on (not really) while my family - all 13 of them - sit in a hotel room waiting on news of their homes. I feel inept, scared, unsure and guilty that I have a home, that I am hanging photos and creating a place of rest for D and me while my family sits and waits for the outcome of most of what they own. Yes, it's a house - it's walls and doors and carpet and a location. But it's a home - with pictures, kids' drawings, family meals, memories. It's a place I rested my head since I was twelve, that until a week before I called my home.

Then a wind storm. A 60 MPH wind, catching the fire just right on the hottest day CO has ever seen and carrying it over ridges and dumping it on our doorstep. We watched, anxiously, while the flame overtook the hillside, confirmation that my father's place of employment is destroyed. We are unable to place anything in the dark night. The flames seemed to reach for miles - more and more people evacuated. How do you tackle something like that? How would they stop all of the northwest side of COS from going down? We can't place anything but try to anyway. Midnight - the flames continue. We know morning will bring answers - but are we ready for what we will learn?

In the night I dream of a charred community where children return to play, grow, live and thrive. Waking early I go to the TV, but no answers come.

Then come the images, broken information, pleas for time and the repeated realizion that contol is gone. I feel violated by people's refual to respect other's homes, to turn an image into a front page horror, to fly overhead and try to answer people's questions with hasty maps of broken communities.

A number - 346. A list of streets, ours not among them. A sigh of relief. Prayer that my sister's family will one day soon receive the same news. Yet we cannot return home. But the edge in our voices is gone. For the first time since Tuesday night when my dad and I had to prepare my mom and sister that there might not be a home to go back to, there is a sense of peace and I breathe.

I breathe and realize it's far from over. And that while we were lucky others were not and we must stand by those who lost it all.

Now, 14 days later, I can look at my left finger and let my marriage sink in. I take inventory of relationships and priorities and decisions. Like growth out of the ashes I let go of what held me down and realize what is important.

A dear friend of mine lost her grandmother right before my wedding and I have not been able to be there for her like I want to. The loss of her grandmother - almost two years since Bev's death - brings up emotion within me. I find myself mourning the things Bev never got to see. She never met D or his three kids, she didn't get to see my wedding, will never see who I become. I struggle if she would be proud of me, if she would understand. And so inpart in grieving for her, wanting her here, wishing to see her face one more time, I start to be able to reach out to my friend and mourn with her - realizing and knowing the same thoughts and struggles are with her too. Death where is your sting or victory? Not here for those of us who know we will see our loved ones again!

But where to go? How to rebuild? To move back, settle in, water my mom's garden and press on. To unpack the final things at my home, to live life with three kids - my new family - and struggle to become better than I am now.

...

Thank you for being there to celebrate, the kind words, well wishes and curiousity (the pictures ARE coming) as I finally joined my life to another. Being there to comfort, with words of encouragement, questions on our status, offers for help. For standing with us Tuesday night and last night with sighs of relief and words of joy.

And I know you will be there still as life (good and bad) comes our way. And I can only hope that I can repay your kindness in your time of joy and need, celebration and pain.

Thank you.

In June I walked down the aisle and married my best friend.

I am not one of those girls who has had her wedding planned since she was six. I wanted a day that fit who I am, that was intimate and felt like both of us. And we managed that at the Garden of the Gods Trading Post, with 80 of our friends and family watching, catered by some of the most amazing chefs I've ever met and with my dear friend taking photos.

It was a relaxing day with no stress, lots of joy and nothing but an incredible future ahead of us.

We had hydrangeas in the bouquets. In the centerpieces we mixed them with fresh branches and candles.

The girls wore purple. My nieces were flower girls. I walked in to JJ Heller's Tonight and during the ceremony we played A Page is Turned by Bebo Norman.

The lyrics speak of redemption and a second change and becoming whole in God before you seek out someone else. It was a song that fit our journey, of how we met each other, of our relationship.

A wedding is the prelude to a marriage. You cannot get so focused on one day that you lose the ultimate goal - the joining of two lives. It is not a spectacle. It is not the most important day of your life. It is not a party to celebrate you... It's a commitment, made publicly, to be stretched and renewed for the rest of your lives.

Your wedding day should be the most intimate look in to your love life that friends and family get. I wanted my friends to see why I love D (and his kids!) and get a brief look at our relationship. I wanted our families to be center, it to be not just about us, but the dozens of people who have shaped our lives and been there. And, it was!

And when it was all said and done we danced down the aisle to Rhythm of Love - our song.

I have the love of an amazing man. I don't know what I would do without D. He came into my life when things were dark, was a good friend as I fought to recover and loves me unconditionally.

We've been married six months and it's been incredible. As time goes by some of the basic things I love about him include how:

- he wakes me in the morning by telling me how much he loves me,
- he'll call me for no other reason than our song is on the radio
- he can make me laugh no matter how sad or upset I am
- he loves me in the best of who I am, pushing me to be more
- he supports my dreams and encourages me to pursue them
- our vision for our future is connected
- we go on crazy adventures
- we have those amazing quite moments of just us

I am realizing more and more the power of 1 Corinthians 13:

Love is patient, love is kind, It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

That is my love.

Call for Panels: Third World Conference on Humanitarian Studies, Istanbul, 24-27 October 2013 [info]
- The theme of the conference is "Human Security: Humanitarian Perspectives and Responses."  Deadline for panel proposals is 1 June 2013.

Migration & Asylum Policies in Europe, Oxford, 6-7 June 2013 [info]
- Organized by the European Studies Centre.

CFP: Critical Migration Studies Stream, Critical Legal Conference, Belfast, 5-7 September 2013 [info]
- Abstract deadline is 15 June 2013.

Job Vacancy: Assistant to the International Summer School and Conferences Manager, Refugee Studies Centre, Oxford [info]
- Application deadline is 19 June 2013.

Eleventh Orientation Course on Forced Migration Studies, Kolkata, India, 8-14 December 2013 [info]
- Apply by 24 June 2013.

20 Years after the German Asylum Law Reform: Demise or Transformation of Refugee Protection?, Berlin, 28 June 2013 [info]
- No registration deadline indicated.

Related post:
- Events & Opportunities: May/June 2013

Tagged Events & Opportunities.  

The Disappearance of Sudan? Life in Khartoum for Citizens without Rights, Citizenship and Displacement in the Great Lakes Region, Working Paper, no. 9 (International Refugee Rights Initiative, May 2013) [text via ReliefWeb]

Humanitarianism and the "National Order of Things": Examining the Routinized Refugee Response in Eastern Cameroon, Honors Projects Paper, no. 17 (Macalester College, 2013) [text]

Maban Refugee Camps, South Sudan: Nutrition Survey Final Report (UNHCR et al., 2013) [text via ReliefWeb]

République du Tchad: Mission conjointe d'évaluation de la situation des réfugiés soudanais, retournés tchadiens et la population locale dans la zone de Tissi au Sud-est du Tchad (WFP & FAO, May 2013) [text via ReliefWeb]

Rejected from Refuge: Displaced Malians Face Eviction from Apartments They can no Longer Afford (IDMC Blog, May 2013) [text]

Tagged Publications.  

Amnesty International's flagship annual report was released today.  The 2013 edition includes a focus on "People on the Move," with the press release noting "that the rights of millions of people who have escaped conflict and persecution, or migrated to seek work and a better life for themselves and their families, have been abused. Governments around the world are accused of showing more interest in protecting their national borders than the rights of their citizens or the rights of those seeking refugee or opportunities within those borders."

The report begins with an introductory essay on "Human Rights Know NO Borders," and continues with surveys on the state of human rights in 159 countries and territories. A global update, regional overviews, and other language editions can be found on the report's web site.

Previous editions of the report can be accessed via my wiki.

Tagged Publications and Web Sites/Tools.

CFPs:

British Journal of Social Work [info]
- Special issue on "'A World on the Move': Migration, Mobilities and Social Work."  Abstract deadline is 7 June 2013.

Disability and the Global South: An International Journal [info]
- Special issue on "Disability, Asylum and Migration." Submission deadline is 1 September 2013.

Intervention [info]
- Special issue on psychosocial work and peacebuilding. Submission deadline is 1 July 2013.

Journal of Human Rights in the Commonwealth [info]
- New open access journal published by the School of Advanced Study, University of London.  Submission deadline is 31 July 2013.

Oxford Monitor of Forced Migration [info]
- Scroll to p. 101 for CFP.  Submission deadline is 14 August 2013.

New issues:

Field Exchange, no. 44 (Dec. 2012) [full-text]
- Mix of articles.

Forced Migration Review, no. 43 (May 2013) [info]
- Theme issue on "States of Fragility."  Full-text is coming soon.

Georgetown Immigration Law Journal, vol. 26, no. 2 (Winter 2012) [contents]
- Mix of articles including two on "women as a social group" and "refugee relief and resettlement during armed conflict."

Humanitarian Exchange, no. 57 (May 2013) [full-text]
- Theme is "South Sudan at a Crossroads."

Oxford Monitor of Forced Migration, vol. 3, no. 1 (May 2013) [full-text]
- Mix of articles that reflect on the concepts of "international solidarity" and "international cooperation" in refugee protection.

St. Antony's International Review, vol. 9, no. 1 (May 2013) [contents]
- Special issue on "The Gendered Refugee Experience."  See also launch event info. here.

Tagged Periodicals and Events & Opportunities. 

"Forced Displacements from Syria or How to Institutionalize Regimes of Suffering," ESIL Reflections, vol. 2, no. 6 (May 2013) [text]

The Past, Present and Future of Transnational Conflict in Jordan: A Study of Syrian Refugees in the Hashemite Kingdom, Masters Capstone Paper Project (Illinois State University, May 2013) [text]

Mission Report: An NGO Perspective on the Response to the Syria Crisis (ICVA & InterAction, May 2013) [text]

Multimedia Memo: Syria (UNHCR) [access]

People on the Move: 'For many displaced Syrians, going back home is out of the question' (Amnesty International, May 2013) [text]

Syria Refugees: Your Stories (Guardian Witness) [access]

[Map credit: "Syria: Numbers and Locations of Refugees and IDPs," U.S. Dept. of State, May 2013]

Tagged Publications and Web Sites/Tools.

[An aside: This is my 2500th published post!  It has taken me 7 1/2 years to get to this point, but maybe I'll get to 5000 posts in less time since my daily posting rate has increased over the years!  At the same time, it's not so much about the numbers, but rather relevance and utility.  My sincerest hope is that these posts have proven useful to you and the valuable work that you do to assist and protect forced migrants.]

Now here's the actual post...

Last month, I provided some suggestions for how to find the full-text of journal articles when you do not have subscription or database access to journal collections through your institution.  One suggestion was to try to locate an article of interest via Google Scholar.  However, if you don't find anything in Google Scholar, broaden the scope of your search to include all of the web.  The reason is that it can take a little time for references to end up in Scholar's index, so information about newly published journal articles may not be available immediately.

Here's an example:  Today, the PDES Facebook page included a link to an abstract of an article entitled "Early relationships and marriage in conflict and post-conflict settings: vulnerability of youth in Uganda."  Full-text access requires payment, so I searched in Scholar for it but only found a citation.  However, when I expanded my search to all of the web, I located the full-text on the Women's Refugee Commission web site.  (As it turns out, the principal author is a WRC staff member.)

Likewise, the texts of the two law review articles I referenced in today's "gender issues" post are not yet in Google Scholar, but they are available online nonetheless.

If you give the suggestions in this and the earlier post a try but still cannot track down a certain article, let me know - I might be able to point you in the right direction, although no guarantees!

[Image credit: Spider Firework, Wikipedia]

Tagged Publications. 

Written last week, before leaving for Canada to attend our son's wedding, SAM Ministries' annual banquet, etc.:

After a considerable degree of effort, the teachers at the school and I managed to get the kids to fill in letters to their sponsors. These letters aren't complicated or lengthy. Mostly, they're a drawn or colored picture. Maybe a circled or written word or words, depending on what grade they're in. Depending on their level of ability.

It can be very hard to connect this world with other worlds. This world is rather basic. We have bugs and dirt and low-end technology (when it works). Other worlds are super-hygienic, bug-free (a luxury where, as my daughter put it, is to ask oneself "how did that bug get inside??") and have high speed internet. I'd like to say that the term "high speed" in Moz is used in some capacity, but that's not characteristic of most of life here. That's not good or bad. It's just different. Where we live, it is buggy, dirty, and has slow-end technology. It's a part of the world that tugs at your heart. It's a tough place to live, but I love it.

Anyway, back to the letters. Lots of them were soiled by the hands of children who don't have running water in their school yet. I had thought to pack plastic basins, water, soap and towels, but forgot since my time was taken up with packing food to keep tummies filled, sight words for the next week, medicine for the school clinic, etc. Sending dirt-smudged letters is never our intention, but it seems an inevitable and normal part of life in Africa. The dirt is as hard to avoid as the oxygen we breathe.

Tomorrow is my last day here before I head for a different world with the luxury of running water, fast internet, and being shocked to see a bug or dirt anywhere but outdoors where they belong. But part of me is sad to leave the "real" world behind. There is so much humanity and value in a hand written note, though it's smudged with dirt and erased misspellings. Those are the elements that shout, "Real people with real needs live here!"

I would like to keep these letters before me as a constant reminder that the fast, developed world is good, but there is another world that calls my name. It's the world that is still struggling to develop; the one that suffers hunger, poverty, and death from treatable illnesses--things I don't want to experience, but others must. Lives I can impact as long as I don't shrink back.

This is why these dirty letters mean what they do to me. Each one represents a sweet face, a unique personality with its own quirks, mischief, and vulnerability. A loving heart, and a life full of potential, still "under development", that hopes for change. Most importantly, a life that can be changed.

Excerpts from a New York Times article called “Why do I Teach?” by Gary Gutting, a philosophy professor at Notre Dame:

Overall, college education seems a matter of mastering a complex body of knowledge for a very short time only to rather soon forget everything except a few disjointed elements. [...]

In general, people retain the knowledge that they repeatedly use in their professions. But what we studied once and haven’t taken up again and again is mostly lost. [...]

I’ve concluded that the goal of most college courses should not be knowledge but engaging in certain intellectual exercises. [...]

The goal of the course is simply that they have had close encounters with some great writing. What’s the value of such encounters? They make students vividly aware of new possibilities for intellectual and aesthetic fulfillment—pleasure, to give its proper name. [...]

The fruits of college teaching should be measured not by tests but by the popularity of museums, classical concerts, art film houses, book discussion groups, and publications like Scientific American, the New York Review of Books, The Economist, and The Atlantic, to cite just a few. These are the places where our students reap the benefits of their education.

 . . when I briefly consider whether I can go on.  When the stress and sadness of working on the edge of life just seems like too much, when the losses accumulate and threaten to overwhelm.  This week it was Tuesday afternoon.  I nearly missed a monthly meeting for the Bethany Kids department (Paediatric surgery and Neurosurgery), we were receiving one admission after the other, two babies who had become dangerously jaundiced and infected and dehydrated at home, another born prematurely with a spinal cord defect.  In between examining and evaluating and supervising the inerns' orders, I was shuttling between nurses and departments trying to sort our overflowing wards in such a way that the limited oxygen could reach everyone who was struggling to breathe.  I had a student sick with what looked like it could have been a serious, life-threatening illness (it wasn't, she's fine, but missionary kids are targets of spiritual attack and I carry that burden heavily).  I was on call so trying to catch up on critically ill patients for the evening, including a little girl who was deteriorating after brain surgery to remove a tumor and a baby who was being ventilated because of damage his lungs sustained at birth. Miscommunication with a surgical service had frustrated me. And never far from my mind and heart, thoughts about my own child who was stuck in a dorm room for two weeks with not much to do or look forward to after a friend canceled a planned visit.  And a foster-son who was going through a serious struggle, all over a scratchy hard-to-follow phone line.  Scott was already gone all week to WHM leadership meetings in Spain.  So all the responsibility of home was also on my shoulders, for food and homework and communication and dogs and laundry.  Oh, and of course, a minor bacterial infection just for good measure, leaving me nauseated and weary.
(Baby Bina, our tiniest preemie yet, 580 grams/25 weeks and still fighting strong at 2 weeks old.) 

On days like that I don't really look forward to the conference which starts tomorrow, the triennial all-fields meeting of World Harvest.  Sure the break from the relentless pace of work and need sounds appealing, and the location should be lovely.  But after two decades in this business, I'm supposed to be one of those senior sorts of people who will overflow grace and peace and love to others, who will fly in ready to minister.  Who will listen with wisdom and have just the right insight.  Who has this whole messy work/life/family/ministry balance in relative equilibrium, as an example and encouragement to others.

Instead of being someone who walked the short dirt path from home to hospital with tears dripping down and stomach in a knot, whose prayer disciplines have weakened, whose stretched heart keeps reaching a breaking point.

But then the Spirit reminded me:  ministry from weakness is a core value of our mission.  One of those little phrases that sounds pious and humble, but feels completely out of control in real life.  That it's OK to come to the conference worn out and wobbly, and to enter into conversations with nothing much to impart.

Because we're there to impart Jesus.  Only.  And that's enough.

Matchmaking, it seems to me, would be a noble profession.  Seeing need and opportunity and finding win-win mutually beneficial arrangements with the potential for long lives of blessing.

This week I felt a little thrill of matchmaking.  No, not for a marriage, though I do believe this is a love story.  Love that brings people out of their homes at dawn and into a chaotic ward full of children whose brains are being compressed by too much fluid, whose spinal cords are damaged and exposed, who often can't walk, need help to go to the bathroom, appear disproportionate and a bit unsettling.  Kijabe hospital has become a mecca for the neurologically disabled.  We had a surgeon here, Dr. Bransford, whose heart for special-needs children launched all kinds of surgical programs.  And we have one now, Dr. Albright, who with his nurse-practitioner wife has brought a lifetime of academic experience to bear in the epicenter of spina bifida and hydrocephalus.  If you build it, they will come, and the most challenging kids from all over Kenya find their way to Kijabe day by day.  Dr. Albright does more surgery here in a month than he did in the States in a year.  On my call this week I admitted three newborns with spina bifida, and heard three more were also seen.  That's one day, 6 new cases of a very complicated condition.


When I first came to Kijabe, I quickly realized how much I leaned on the excellent care of our two Clinical Officers (like PA's), Bob and Lillian.  And I noticed how busy the neurosurgical service was, and thought a CO would be a great benefit to them.  But nothing comes quickly at Kijabe, and this idea had to go through proper channels of approval.  When the 2012 CO intern class finished in November, we got the hospital to hire one for Paediatrics. Thanks to insight and advice from Dr. Erika, we chose Veronica because she had demonstrated a real heart for the babies.  It wasn't easy to pull this off.  Veronica could have made nearly double her salary elsewhere, and Kenyans experience significant family pressure to obtain a more secure and higher-paying job.  But she felt God drawing her to KH, so she signed on.  She received neonatal training in December, and then began a 4-month training and work period with us in the Nursery while our regular CO was on maternity leave, with the plan that at the end of that time we would release Veronica to work with the Neurosurgery team.

This week the Neurosurgery team confirmed that they want her to stay on long-term, and she confirmed she wants to do that.  Hooray.  I know this will bless the children.  I can be standing in nursery and watch staff go right by me to bring their issues to the CO, who is considered more approachable.  I have time after time seen Veronica find out more back story, minister to Moms spiritually, go the extra mile to ensure that needs are met.  A team needs skilled surgeons but also compassionate hands-on language-fluent primary care members.

That evening I was so happy, that Veronica might make the lives of the way-too-busy and dedicated Albrights a little better with her work, that they might teach her some specialized and excellent medicine, that mothers and babies would be cared for well, that nurses would have a better way to communicate with the surgical team.

A small joy of matchmaking that will, I hope, bear much fruit.

Blue Dragon's first rescue trip to find trafficked children was in 2006. A small team of us traveled to Ho Chi Minh City to meet kids who had been trafficked onto the streets from central Vietnam.

I was on that team, along with our lawyer Van, a volunteer named Eric, and a former street kid who is now a staff member at Blue Dragon - Vi.

We knew that dozens of kids from Hue province had been deceived into thinking they were going south for an education, and instead were being forced to sell flowers outside night clubs from 7pm to 3am every single night. Our objective was to get the kids home, and break up the trafficking ring.

We succeeded, and took a group of children home to their families in Hue. The trafficking ring gave up soon after.

One of the boys we met on that trip was named Can. He was from a very poor family in Hue province. Although they loved him very much, they had barely enough money to eat, let alone send their kids to school, and so they were very vulnerable to the trafficker's promises of a better life.When they learned what their Son was doing in the south, they just wanted him home.

Although we took Can back to his family at first, we later brought him north to Hanoi so that he could attend a good school. It was clear that Can was particularly bright and had a future in education. If he stayed at home, his prospects were limited, and his family just wanted what was best for him.

And so Can moved to Hanoi and lived in the Blue Dragon shelter. He worked hard - very hard - and soon was top of all his classes.

A few years later, Blue Dragon was presented with an amazing opportunity.

Chatsworth International School in Singapore offered us a 4 year scholarship for one of the kids. All expenses paid. Four years of an American High School diploma, in an international environment. Can was the immediate choice.

And so, in September 2009, Vi and I took Can to Singapore to begin his international education. Although his friends back in Vietnam always thought how lucky Can was, the truth is that 4 years of living away from home in a foreign country is difficult. It has never been easy for Can, but finally he has made it.

On Thursday, Can graduated from high school.

Can (on the left) and Vi: Can's first day at Chatsworth, 2009
Can's last day at Chatsworth - again with Vi! 

As he sat on the stage with his entire class, Can beamed through the graduation ceremony like nobody else. Vi and I attended, passing through Singapore on the way home from our fundraising trip to Australia, to watch as Can received his certificates.

Can is now not only a Blue Dragon boy; he's also a Chatsworth boy. He has achieved what was unimaginable back in 2006, and has so very much to be proud of.

This weekend, Can will return to Vietnam with us, and spend some time with family and friends. But the next big adventure is yet to come: university.

This is one young man who is really going places.

Today there was an exciting announcement on Australian radio. Kathryn Freeman, a former volunteer at Blue Dragon in Vietnam, and now a Board Member of Blue Dragon in Australia, has won a notable award.

Kathryn entered a writing competition held by an organisation called The Footpath Library. She wrote about her relationship to one of the Blue Dragon boys, Dong, who was once a street kid but now works with us as a security guard.

Dong has had a massively difficult childhood, but at every step has made good decisions and, despite everything being against him, has made something of his life. In very large part he has succeeded because of people like Kathryn who have cared for him and made him believe in himself. He's an exceptional young man, and now is immortalised in Kathryn's short story, We held hands.


Dong and Kathryn at the Blue Dragon centre
I can't publish the story here (copyright!) but I have read it - and it deserved to win. In place it had me laughing; then I was crying; and finally I was doing both at the same time. It's a beautiful story. And it will be published in the August edition of Meanjin.

Congratulations, Kathryn, and accolades to you, Dong, for being such a star!

Nora Schenkel wrote a post mortem last week of her aborted development career 'I Came to Haiti to Do Good….'
I'm sorry we lost you Nora, and I hope that you change your mind. Though long hours hunched over a laptop fiddling with Excel might not always feel like it, working on the most important moral issue of our time, in whatever small way, is really a great privilege.

I sympathise with your guilt living a comfortable life amidst extreme poverty, and your frustration feeling that aid isn't making a positive difference. But your guilt is misplaced, and our frustration with ineffective aid should be a spur to do it better, not to just give up.

Your guilt is misplaced because almost all of us lucky enough to be born in wealthy countries have relatively comfortable lives. Even an average British salary puts you in the top one percent on the global rich list. The fact that in Britain we don't have to brush shoulders every day with extreme poverty does not make it cease to exist, and does not mean that morally we should feel any more or less than guilty than if we were living on the same salary in Haiti. That out of sight is out of mind is not moral reasoning.

Frustration with ineffective aid is exactly what is driving reform in the sector, towards more focus on measurement, results, transparency, and accountability. Yes there is still lots of improvement to be made, especially in difficult places to operate such as Haiti. But there can be no doubt that aid saves lives. And yes, in order for that to happen, some overheads are needed, including occasionally paying the salaries that it costs to hire skilled international staff, and for some of those air-conditioned offices and shiny white cars.

Extreme poverty is ugly. And it can seem uglier when it is contrasted so sharply with rich world largesse. But that contrast didn't cause the poverty, and running away from the problem doesn't make it better. It just means that you aren't forced to think about it every day.

Good luck Nora, I'm sure you'll do good.

From the independent review of DFID's use of consultants:
ICAI reviewed the DFID Central Procurement Group and a range of programmes with a combined contract value of £264 million. The case studies show that contractors are an effective option for delivering aid. DFID has selected contractors that have delivered positive results at competitive fee rates. DFID’s poor end-to-end programme management, however, has led to delays. In the case studies that we examined, this has had the greatest impact during the mobilisation phase and is exacerbated by a lack of ‘whole life’ individual responsibility for programmes. In addition, learning is not being captured from contractors or used to inform future programming.  The reform of DFID’s central procurement group has improved processes but is too slow and lacks prioritisation. As a result, decisions to use contractors are not guided by a strategic plan to deploy the right contractors, including major, niche and innovative new entrant organisations, to best effect. via TNL

In which Justin Sandefur takes Chris Blattman and Bill Gates to school.... he argues that African governments don't need GDP data or internationally comparable micro survey data, they need good quality administrative data.
This, rather than the need for more duplicative household surveys, is the big challenge facing African statistics. Right now governments face a trade-off between high quality survey data of limited relevance, and low quality administrative data that actually fits their needs. It doesn’t have to be this way. But to overcome the trade-offs donors are going to have to back off with their pet survey projects, and stats bureaus across Africa will need to exert some renewed independence, and stop serving as research consultancies for donors. Zing!