Pu'erh and Pizza

Yesterday we got up and walked a couple of blocks to the Feel Good Cafe, purveyors of Cambodia's best cup of coffee. It's also a darn fine place for eggs, pancakes and other Western breakfast staples, and after about a month of Asian breakfasts, we decided to indulge.

We ran into the team from Central Vineyard Church and invited them to join us on a visit to the Q. N China Brand Tea Shop, one of our favorite stops when in Phnom Penh. Kori, my wife, doesn't drink coffee, doesn't really care about clothing, doesn't need any more Asian souvenirs and doesn't wear much jewelry. So I'm always more than happy to drop a few bucks on some high quality teas that would cost four times as much in the States or Europe.

After a delightful hour of sipping and selecting jasmine, fresh oolong, dried oolong and ancient pu'erh teas, we drove to a nearby branch of The Pizza Company and met 20 of our university students who have graduated from Asia's Hope in Prek Eng. Oh, how I love those kids.

These are bright, hardworking students. They put in hours of study that would horrify most American co-eds and they're involved in ministry at their church and with the kids at Asia's Hope. They're relentlessly positive — I spent two hours with them and despite some good-natured teasing among the kids, there was never a hint of snark or cynicism. They love their country despite its imperfections, and they're all committed to working for its good as lawyers, teachers, doctors, economists and entrepreneurs.

They are the first fruits of our ministry here in Cambodia, and are the living proof that residential orphan care is not only not intrinsically harmful to kids, but with the right leadership, proper funding and a family-centered model, can be absolutely transformative. 

After lunch, we headed out of the city, over the bridge and through the rapidly developing side streets that were just a few years ago nothing but rice fields and banana farms. Arriving at our Prek Eng campus after spending the previous hours with our university students, I was struck with the encouraging yet daunting prospect providing for the dozens of kids who will be joining their ranks in the next few years.

Upon returning to the city late in the evening, I spent a couple hours reflecting with some of the members of the CV team. "How are you going to pay for all of those scholarships?" "What can we do to help?" 

Good questions.

Thanks to the generosity of our church partners, we have a certain portion of our university fees already committed. But we need a lot more. It currently costs about $1,500 on average to fund a full scholarship for one of our 82 university students in Cambodia and Thailand. That includes tuition, books, fees, technology and underwrites a portion of transportation costs. 

That's not bad when you compare it to the cost in a Western country. But when you look into the not-to-distant future and see that we'll have more than 200 college students in less than 5 years, you see the size of the bills we're facing. And if you factor in anticipated cost increases and the fact that we'll soon have dozens of graduates in India, where university is considerably more expensive, you'll understand why we need to raise significantly more funds for our scholarship fund.

I wasn't planning on making a fundraising pitch, but it's hard for me to think about our university kids without thinking about these needs. So if you want to see these kids reach their full potential as their country's next generation of leaders, will you consider making a generous one-time or monthly investment in our scholarship fund? I can assure you that your money will play a vital role in changing communities and even entire countries.

Goals

We arrived in Cambodia yesterday morning, having spent an uncomfortable and mostly sleepless night in the Bangkok airport. After checking into our hotel, we decided to walk to a restaurant nearby where we ran into the team from Central Vineyard Church. Kori, Xiu Dan and I were too tired to visit the Prek Eng homes that afternoon, so we arranged for Pak to go out with them for the evening. Kori, Xiu Dan and I joined Pastor Savorn's family for dinner at a Chinese restaurant in Phnom Penh.

After the team returned from an afternoon and evening of fun with the kids of Prek Eng 2, they brought Pak back to our hotel, and Kori and I went out with a few of them to a cool rooftop lounge down the street. We relaxed and caught up on their trip, and on our recent doings in India. Conscious of our waning energy and a big day ahead, we all got into bed at a decent hour and got caught up on most of the sleep we'd lost over the past few days.

Jeremy Slagle, Deb Woods and Stacy Keyerleber joined Kori and me at a rooftop lounge just down the street. A cool breeze and some great views of the city.

This morning we enjoyed a wonderful church service with the kids and staff of Asia's Hope in Prek Eng, and then the staff took us out for a very Cambodian lunch in a cabana beside a lake. We had fried fish, roasted chicken and Khmer hot and sour beef soup. I've been coming to Cambodia for about 15 years — this is something like my 27th trip — and it always feels like a family reunion. 

After church I returned Kori and Xiu Dan to the hotel and I drove out to meet Pak and a bunch of the older boys. We rented a football field for a couple of hours and they boys worked up a good sweat. Such great kids. It's been a privilege to watch them grow alongside my own sons from little boys into young adult men. It was also a bit overwhelming realizing that almost all of them will be going to university in the next couple of years, and that we have a lot of fundraising to do to make that happen.

After a dinner with just my family, we dragged ourselves back to the hotel, where Xiu Dan is now sleeping, Kori is reading and Pak is chuckling over some web video. I've used all my energy putting these thoughts onto paper and editing these photos. Tomorrow is packed as well. Good times, I tell you. It's nice to be home.

John McCollumComment
Unexpected goodbyes
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Goodbyes are always difficult. Moreso when they are unexpected or untimely.

We had planned to stay in India for another five days, but we were forced to leave when it became clear that it was unsafe for us to remain. In the end, it was resolved with a few interviews with the police and other officials, and we were able to reschedule our tickets. 

We lost a few days in India, a few hundred dollars in tickets and a few hours of sleep. This pathetic attempt to intimidate us by forces opposed to our work has already backfired. We leave this country even stronger, and with greater confidence that we are called and protected by God himself. 

To any of you who knew about the situation — or inferred that something was up — thank you for your prayers and your support.

Our next stop is Cambodia, where our early arrival will allow us to meet up with the team from my church, Central Vineyard. All said, a good outcome all around.

Dal, baby.

If you've spent much time at all with me, you know that I love to cook. A perfect day for me usually involves a long bath, a good cup of coffee, a trip to an ethnic market, hours in the kitchen and a meal with friends.

Four outta five ain't bad. After procuring a stopper for the bathtub at our hotel, I took my first actual bath since leaving America three weeks ago. And while good coffee is impossible in this town, I settled for some delicious Darjeeling tea. 

Yesterday was a market day in town, so Pak and I walked down the hill from the Silver Oaks hotel through the crowded streets of Kalimpong with Sunil and Amber, Asia's Hope India directors, into the Himalayan hill station version of my hometown's North Market. 

Spices for sale in the Kalimpong market.

My staff here has been working hard under often-stressful conditions over this last year, and I wanted to make them a meal as a tangible expression of my appreciation. I wanted to do something "American," and ruled out pizza pretty early in the game — none of our kitchens have ovens. Hamburgers seemed trite, and so I opted for tacos. 

Indians and Mexicans alike love chilies, limes and cilantro, so I figured I could find most of the ingredients. I must admit I was a bit overwhelmed by the options offered in the countless spice stalls, green grocer carts and butcher stands. But at the end of the day, I had burdened my companions with satchels of spices, bags of vegetables and newspaper parcels of meat.

Meat.

We returned to the kitchen of our Kalimpong 1 Children's Home and began prep in earnest after dinner. Shambolic mise en place aside, I was able to get a dry rub on half of the meat and a wet marinade on the other half thanks to the effort of various kids, moms, dads and aunties. We whipped up a couple gallons of pico de gallo, sautéed some mirepoix and chopped up a few bowls full of cilantro, chillies and shallots — just in case. I built a savory pork bone broth and soaked a couple kilos of red beans for what would become what I told them was "Mexican dal" (dal being India's iconic and ubiquitous lentil stew).

Applying the wet marinade.

This morning, I arrived at KP1 shortly after finishing breakfast with my family, fired up the two-burner propane stove and started cooking the meal with the assistance of Punam and Radha, wives of Sunil and Amber. As noon rolled around, a couple dozen staff members, a relative or few and a handful of kids who had finished school for the day assembled to taste my approximation of authentic Mexican grub. I didn't have time, energy or ingredients to make tortillas, so we made do with chapatis. 

After demonstrating how to fill, roll and eat a taco, we prayed and dug in. To be honest, this wasn't a culinary masterpiece. Each dish was only about 70% as good as I had hoped. In my own kitchen, I know where everything is and how it all works. And when something doesn't taste right, I can reach into my own pantry and find whatever it takes to bring it into line. Today, I had only what I bought at the market and a few ingredients I didn't really know how to use.

But it was honestly one of the most satisfying meals I've made all year. All present expressed sincere appreciation of my efforts and curiosity of my methods. And though I suspect some of them merely feigned enjoyment of the actual food, everyone understood that I was doing it to serve them, to thank them. 

The rest of my day wasn't nearly as exciting — meetings with lawyers and a few hours of research. But I'll go to bed happy, knowing that I've enjoyed something wholesome and meaningful. May God bless my family, here and at home. Good night.

John McCollumComment
"So many stories of where I've been..."

As our plane took off from Kolkata for the short flight to Siliguri, I put on my headphones, cranked the volume all the way up and played a song that, for whatever reason, is always the first one on my playlist for this portion of the trip: The Story by Brandi Carlisle. 

A chill ran across my shoulders as the guitar intro rolled.

"All of these lines across my face tell you the story of who I am. So many stories of where I've been and how got to where I am."

And as the second verse hit its stride, "I climbed across the mountain tops, swam all across the ocean blue..." waves of emotion swept over me. "I crossed all the lines and I broke all the rules, but baby I broke them all for you." I buried my head in my hands and bit my lip.

The second song on my playlist, "Set Me Free" — an old Vineyard worship tune — was one of only two songs (the other was "Break Every Chain" by Will Reagan) I could bear to listen to as I was enduring a particularly dark three-week period almost exactly a year ago.

"Fall on me, every so gently. Washing, washing my filthy stains. Shower me with your love. Breath on, breath on these dry bones. And break these chains and set me free."

As the song rolled into the chorus, I came undone. And although I didn't cry as hard — or for as long — as I did last June, it felt as if something broke loose inside me. And if I hadn't been on an airplane where my histrionics were likely to cause distress in my other passengers and the flight crew, I probably would have crawled into a fetal position and sobbed. And those who know me well probably know that I'm not especially lachrymose. 

So why all of this emotion? Well, I can't really go into all of the details in this forum, but my return to India was not a foregone conclusion as of this time last year. And this year, we had some concerns about our visas that caused us to wonder if we would be entering the country or returning to Thailand to activate "Plan B." Or "Plan C," if you're really counting. Even now, as I lie securely in my bed in Kalimpong, this visit is freighted with all kinds of intense feelings.

We drove up to Kalimpong from Siliguri this morning and arrived by lunchtime. Despite heavy rains in the early morning, we didn't encounter any landslides or washed out roads. The trip was relatively uneventful; the only delay was caused by a very slow moving train blocking our path about a half hour outside of Siliguri.

After enjoying a room service lunch and a brief nap, we headed out to visit each of our five homes (a sixth one is on the way; the kids are living among the other homes while we iron out funding to rent a house of their own). I surprised myself at how many of the kids names I remembered — I'd guess at least half of them. Considering that we now have more than 800 kids across Asia's Hope, that's not too shabby. 

Although I time was short at each place, it was a pretty joyful reunion. We finished the evening with a dinner at Home 1. I got some tips that should improve my chapati making, and I promised to make lunch for the staff later in the week. I'm thinking tacos. 

By the time we got to the last two homes, it was already getting dark, so I didn't get many pictures. But as I told the kids, I'll be here for a while. 

Tomorrow is church. I look forward to worshipping with these dear families tomorrow. And I hope I hold it together; I'm not sure the kids would understand 'why is John Uncle a blubbering wreck.' Tonight I'm thankful to the staff of Asia's Hope India and to those who work so hard to support these amazing families: Lake Forest Church in North Carolina, Transform Construction, Narrow Road Church, Scarlet City Church, Sacred Space Church, Vista Church and Life Church in Ohio and Real Wood Floors in Missouri. You guys — along with the many people who contribute to Asia's Hope — are my heroes, and are a blessing to me and my family.

Jaimashi! (Jesus wins).

"Every nation, tribe, people and language"

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb…And they cried out in a loud voice: “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.” — Revelation 7:9–10

Inaugurated eschatology is the belief in Christian theology that the end times were inaugurated in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, and thus there are both "already" and "not yet" aspects to the Kingdom of God.

I'm no expert eschatologist, but I know that my family experienced some of the "already" this weekend in Doi Saket. I'm grateful that some of you were able to join us via Facebook Live. 

Among our staff and kids, we have seven distinct tribal groups represented at Asia's Hope Thailand: Lisu, Lahu, Hmong, Akha, Shan, Po Karen and Sgkaw Karen. And although they live together as brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers, they still recognize and celebrate their unique ethnic heritage. 

At church on Sunday, most of the kids wore clothes that represent their tribal identity. And as our truly multi-ethnic congregation lifted its voice in worship, we got to experience a little bit of God's kingdom now. May God bless all of our churches with more diversity and unity!

John McCollumComment
Pictures > words

I've been so busy over the last couple of days I haven't really had time to write. Well, I've started two or three posts and abandoned them quarter-finished, thwarted alternately by overwhelming fatigue and a manic inclination to cover all of my thoughts about the last 15 years of ministry. So tonight, I'm going to let the pictures speak for me and leave the writing for another day.

An evening at Doi Saket 1...

Morning at and around the Heavenly Rest Guest House in Doi Saket...

Strategy session and lunch with Asia's Hope Thailand leadership team…

Afternoon with Doi Saket 3 and Doi Saket 4...

John McCollumComment
Give us this day our daily bread. And rice. And venison. And khao soi...

I don't think I can keep up this pace for the next three months. 

I'm not talking about the pool parties, the soccer games, the singing or the cavorting in the blazing Thai sun. 

No, I'm talking about the eating. I've been on the ground for a total of three days, and I've eaten a greater variety of dishes than most people eat in a year: grilled pork, stewed pork, pork blood cakes, pork curry, pork liver, chicken, fish, venison, boar, beef, lamb and a palate-busting array of soups, curries, omelets and fry-ups, veggies you've never even heard of. And rice. Always rice.

I'm thankful that our leadership here has never fallen prey to a grumpy, sullen parody of the gospel wherein ashen saints trudge morosely through a desert of self-abnegation. Instead, they've embraced an exuberant version of the Kingdom, one full of singing, laughter and feasting — one where everyone is both host and guest. Each meal is a prophecy, a tantalizing glimpse of the world to come.

I'm grateful for the opportunity to share my meals with my wife and kids and with people who are real servants of God, true heroes of the faith. 

John McCollumComment