Be it ever so humble...

Be it ever so humble…

…There’s no place like home.

Culinarily speaking, Columbus, Ohio can’t compete with Chiang Mai. It lacks the topographical Himalayan splendor of Darjeeling. In terms of art, public transportation and urban infrastructure, it’s no Bangkok. And compared with Delhi’s teeming tens of millions, my hometown seems downright provincial.

But boy am I glad to be back home in my tiny house with my little family, cooking in my own kitchen, driving my own car and sleeping in my own bed. And after a 17 hour flight from Delhi to JFK and an 8 hour layover before departing from New York to Columbus, I’m ready to stay put — for a while.

Benjamin and I were basically “on” six-and-a-half days a week for more than a month, visiting all of our Indian and Thai homes, taking photos and videos of each of our projects, sharing meals with every single Asia’s Hope family. And when we weren’t with our staff and kids, we were on the streets, eating everything in sight, getting our feet dirty, and experiencing as many forms of transportation as we could manage: trains, planes, buses, boats, tuk-tuks, pedicabs and motorbikes.

For security and technological reasons, I didn’t post much from the second half of my trip while I was on the ground, but I’ll be sharing some stories, photos and videos online in the coming days, and even more if I see you in person.

And speaking of “in-person,” I hope to see as many of you as possible in October, when we’ll be commemorating the start of our ministry’s third decade, welcoming our international directors to Ohio for a month of celebrations, gatherings and events. 

If you’d like to chat before then, please reach me by email or phone. We have a ton of exciting program initiatives, funding opportunities and partnership openings — I’m eager to tell you, your church, your company and your friends what God is doing through Asia’s Hope!

For now, I’ll leave you with some pictures from the India portion of my trip. Your generosity to Asia’s Hope is making a huge difference in the life of orphaned and vulnerable kids on the other side of the world!

John McCollumComment
Life among the hill tribes of Northern Thailand is beautiful, but precarious. 

Life among the hill tribes of Northern Thailand is beautiful, but precarious. 

On an early morning walk through the tiny Skaw Karen town of Huay Prachao, roosters roused the late-to-rise; lanky brown dogs ambled with indolence, nosing the doorframes of rough-hewn wooden houses, more out of boredom than anything else, and the occasional cow grunted, incuriously noting my presence while jungle birds tutted and squawked somewhere offstage in the dense tropical foliage. 

Soon, the families in the village would rise, most of them from woven mats on bamboo floors. The men and women would start their long days caring for infants, weaving and repairing garments, cooking meals and harvesting rice on a nearby mountain side.

Daily living is nearly hand-to-mouth. If dad catches squirrels this morning, there will be squirrel soup tomorrow. The chickens are too precious to eat on a regular basis, but the eggs are plentiful and delicious as long as the hens have enough to eat. The few people lucky enough to own pigs are raising them for a special occasion, maybe a wedding or a welcome feast for an out of town guest. If it rains today, there will be plenty of water for bathing and washing clothes. If it’s dry, they’ll have to conserve, working carefully to ensure that not a drop is wasted.

There is just enough to get by. Most people don’t have their own motorbike, and only one family appears to own a car. There is a small brick elementary school built with foreign funds, but the closest high school is miles and miles away. In some ways, it’s an idyllic place to grow up, but most children here live each day on the brink of catastrophe, whether they know it or not.

If a parent dies, is incarcerated, faces a long term illness or is trafficked, economic disaster can befall a tribal family overnight. In these circumstances, an orphaned or abandoned child is vulnerable to the worst kinds of deprivation and exploitation imaginable. There is no formal safety net. In fact, hilltribe kids often lack birth certificates, thus rendering them ineligible for government services that the majority-ethnicity Thai citizens might receive.

Asia’s Hope Thailand was built by and for hilltribe children. None of our staff or kids are ethnically Thai. Although our children receive a Thai education — essential for independent success if they choose to pursue a job outside of the village — we’re also careful to maintain these kids’ heritage, language, arts and culture. Every year on school breaks, we return with our kids to their home villages so they can see their relatives and continue the centuries-old traditions that make them uniquely Hmong, Po Karen, Lisu, Lahu, Skaw Karen, Mien, Palaung and Akha.

It was an honor to spend time in this village, and its people have left a lasting impression on me. I’ll long remember their warmth and hospitality, and will pray for their material and spiritual flourishing.




John McCollumComment
Table full of fatness

“…And that which was set on your table was full of fatness.” — Job 36:16

You’d be forgiven for thinking that all I ever do around here is eat. My social media accounts are full of pictures of the myriad delicious dishes I’ve consumed on my travels to Cambodia, Thailand and India.

Of course that’s not why I’m here, but I am an unapologetic gourmand and I reject at a deep, fundamental level any fusty, puritanical notion that food should be valued only for its caloric content. And when I read the scriptures, I see a God who loves to throw banquets, and who lavishes his children with feasts as a sign of his favor.

And when I consider how so many of the 800+ kids and 200+ staff of Asia’s Hope faced real hunger before coming into our family, I take extra pleasure in sharing their enjoyment of the delicious food on offer in these three countries. 

And there’s really no better place for culinary indulgence than Thailand. In fact, Chiang Mai, the city from which I’m currently writing, is widely considered to be one of the world’s best destinations for foodies. From home cooked meals, to quick lunches grabbed at roadside stalls to sit-down-restaurants in the city’s hip Nimman neighborhood, absolutely everything is gorgeous, fresh and delicious.

Here are a few pictures I’ve taken on this trip. Try not to be too jealous. If you come here sometime when I’m in town I’ll make sure you eat copiously and very, very well.

Bonus: some shots from the delicious markets where our staff buys their fresh ingredients...

John McCollumComment
All the new faces and names.

“Having been away for three years, I have to confess I’m slightly overwhelmed by all of the new faces and names…”

Before Covid, I usually traveled to Asia once or twice a year. And on each visit I’d meet the new children who had arrived since my previous trip. Because I stopped by frequently, it was relatively easy to keep track who was who; maybe one or two kids at each home. And at one time, I could have told you some of the biography of each child who had been recently admitted into our care.

Having been away for three years, I have to confess I’m slightly overwhelmed by all of the new faces and names! I mean, we’ve brought in 19 new children to Asia’s Hope Thailand this year alone. And when I visited Cambodia in March, it was the same deal: dozens of new kids since January — easily more than a hundred across our organization since my previous trip.

I’m doing a decent job of remembering faces (e.g. this little girl with the scar on her nose belongs at Home 4, the chubby little boy who can’t stop making silly faces is part of our Home 3 family, etc), but I’ve all but given up on retaining names. 

That doesn’t mean I won’t try. Before each home visit, I pull up the helpful ‘yearbook’ document our project manager Addison prepared for me, and I try to wrap my brains around names, faces and families. 

But even that is of limited assistance: the pictures I have for the new ones were all taken within the first couple days in our care. But within just a month or two, many of them have been completely transformed. It’s a wonder what a few weeks of good nutrition, proper healthcare and a stable home can do for a child! So I’m taking new new photos of each of our kids, and hoping that next time around I’ll have a better chance of remembering their names.

But as frustrating as my limited capacity to learn and remember can be, it’s really no big deal. These kids are known. They’re already beginning to bond with parents and caregivers who will be there for them day after day, year after year. Our homes are healing places, filled with loving families. And that’s what really matters.

John McCollumComment
Couldn't keep me away forever...

Doubly thwarted by Covid — by the pandemic in general and an infection in March — I’ve failed to visit this country for three years.

Benjamin, Tutu and a bunch of the kids show off one of the gigantic prawns we’d later eat for dinner.

And boy, does that seem like a long time. For almost two decades, I’ve traveled to Thailand at least once a year to spend time with the staff and kids of Asia’s Hope, so this extended, involuntary absence has been a royal pain.

So it’s really good to be back. Benjamin and I arrived in Bangkok, the capital city, earlier this week and spent a couple of days exploring and eating. Okay, mostly eating. For cooks and foodies alike, Bangkok is a wonderland, on many a chef’s bucket list. But tonight we experienced a taste of what we’re really here for — two weeks of intensive photography and video production, highlighting the stories and the smiles of kids and staff of Asia’s Hope Thailand in the northern Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai provinces.

And, of course, the food up here is great. Our staff prepared a meal for us that was equal to anything we ate on our two-day culinary extravaganza in Bangkok. Before dinner we laughed and played with kids from the four homes on our Doi Saket 1 campus, eventually having to shelter from a monsoonal downpour under the covered patio in front of our on-site church building. We then enjoyed the aforementioned feast, which starred gigantic prawns caught earlier that day by the Home 1A dad, John.

Tomorrow morning, we’re getting up early to walk off some of the calories with Tutu, our national director, and then we’ll sit down with her and map out the production calendar. And then the work begins! Sure, we’ll have lots of time for fun and games, but we really have a lot of shooting to do in preparation for some major storytelling projects we have in the works.

I’ll try to keep this blog updated, and we’ll be sure to post as often as we can on social media. Keep us in your prayers — we sure want to the kind of injuries and sickness that derailed our last attempt to visit these wonderful people in this beautiful country.

John McCollum Comment
The time that is given us.

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” — Gandalf, The Fellowship Of The Ring

Well, this trip has served as a boot camp for patience and flexibility. Thanks to Covid, it took us forever to get here. We endured delays, cancellations and round after round of rescheduling. But we finally got here. And boy, is it good to be back.

Unfortunately, once we got here, Covid struck out at us again, and I tested positive. Although my case was minor, it took the Thai section of our planned itinerary and threw it in the toilet. So, we’re spending an extra two weeks in Cambodia.

And that’s really not the worst thing in the world. I love this country. And my time in mandatory coronavirus quarantine wiped out an entire week of visits with the kids and staff at our six Prek Eng homes. Now we can get some of that time back. But my Thai staff and kids are bitterly disappointed, and I’ve missed graduation parties, staff outings and even a wedding. 

I’ve already promised my Thai staff that we’ll be sure to visit Thailand in the summer, but certain moments are gone and can’t be recovered. So, in the words of Gandalf, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

With the white wizard’s wise words in mind, Benjamin and I are going to do a lot of the same stuff we started out doing here in the ’Bodia: shoot lots and lots of video, take tons of photos, eat as much as we can and spend every evening at our Prek Eng campus, playing soccer, Simon Says, and whatever other games we or the kids come up with.

The extra time here reminds me of days past when we could really get to know kids by name and on a personal level. Tonight we’re headed to the Prek Eng 6 home, sponsored by Vineyard Columbus. We’ll play for a couple hours, enjoy dinner cooked by the home staff and then, who knows? We’ll probably dance. That seems to be the evening schedule these days. And it’s pretty great.

Far too late for optimally safe driving, we’ll trundle back to our hotel and collapse into our beds before doing it all again tomorrow. Only difference? Tomorrow’s a Saturday, so we’ll probably spend all day with the kids and head home a little earlier in the afternoon to give me time to prepare my sermon for Sunday morning.

It’s busy and it’s tiring. And as much as I can’t wait to get home to see my family, sleep in my own bed and take a real bath, I’m going to miss this — a lot. So we’re going to wring as much out of these last few days as we can, and then I’ll be back in the states. I hope to hit the ground running, fundraising-wise. We have a lot of big plans for the future of Asia’s Hope, but costs are rising here in Asia just like they are at home, and we can’t stretch a dollar quite as far as we could last year. So if you know anyone who should be supporting or partnering with Asia’s Hope, please introduce me. I’d love to invite more people into this joyful, surprising adventure.

john@asiashope.org 614.804.6233

John McCollumComment
A hitch in that plan.

We’ve been sprinting for about three weeks and we really haven’t let up. My plan was to just keep pushing on, finish out our time in Cambodia strong and hit Thailand with the same amount of gusto.

Only hitch in that plan? My body says, “No.”

A couple of days ago I started feeling a bit weak. Yesterday morning — Sunday — I tried to contact Savorn and let him know I wouldn’t be able to preach, but he didn’t get my message until I was already at the church.

So I did preach. Sort of. It was considerably lower-energy than I usually bring to the pulpit. Most notably, I did my sermon sitting down. And at a very, very low volume. Benjamin and I had planned to do staff and university student video interviews before enjoying a celebratory reunion lunch for kids returning to our campus from their colleges in the city, and some of our university graduates who already entered the workforce.

Instead, Benjamin did those interviews – and I took a nap. Later — I’m not sure how long it was — I got up from my brief and insufficient repose and feigned a degree of vigor, buoyed no doubt by my excitement to spend time with these kids whose happy childhood has been my last 20 years’ primary calling.

I got my favorite souvenirs of the trip, photos of these beautiful young adults whose lives God has woven into mine through some mysterious working of his will that has left me stunned with gratitude.

And then, after somehow making it back to my hotel in Phnom Penh, I basically crashed. Well, if I remember correctly, we did have dinner. And then I crashed. And I woke up this morning with a ‘freight train runnin’ through the middle of my head’ as Bruce Springsteen might have it. Unlike the Boss, my freight train wasn’t piloted by a romantic obsession, rather, by a horrible sinus infection or — I hardly dare speak it’s name — covid.

I’m thrice vaxxed, and the covid rate in Cambodia really isn’t that high. Oh, and we spend almost all of our time outside. So I’m struggling to see how it could be The Virus, but enough of the symptoms match that I’m going to have to consider it. 

I started azithromycin tonight, and if it’s a sinus infection, I expect to be feeling significantly better tomorrow. We have to test for covid on Wednesday anyway, so unless I get worse, I’ll probably wait until then to find out for sure. But unless I have a dramatic improvement, I may be stuck in my hotel room for the rest of my time in the ’Bodia.

I’ll keep you posted. Benjamin is going to coordinate with our staff to keep on track with the video production, and I’m going to do what I can. Which is probably not much of anything. If I do test positive, our trip is pretty much off the rails. We won’t be able to go to Thailand, and I may not be able to return to America until I test negative again.

For now, I’m doing okay. Just a little frustrated. But if I get nothing else from this trip, at least I have these pictures and the sweet time we’ve had with our staff and kids thus far.

John McCollum Comment
First time. Also probably the last…

We departed Battambang and drove to Siem Reap in record time. The roads have vastly improved over the past three years. And when we got to Siem Reap, the place was unrecognizable. 

We departed Battambang and drove to Siem Reap in record time. The roads have vastly improved over the past three years. And when we got to Siem Reap, the place was unrecognizable. 

The city’s roads are almost completely new. There are pristine, tiled sidewalks everywhere. Almost all of the dirt-and-gravel roads are gone. But that’s not the only thing missing.

The place is a ghost town. 90% of the businesses and restaurants are boarded up, many of them gone for good. And the temples? I’d say that visitors — especially foreign ones — have diminished by at least 95%.

Angkor Wat, the main temple complex, is usually packed. I swear there were no more than 10 of us there on the afternoon we visited. And we were completely alone when we arrived at Ta Prohm, famous for the strangler figs that have overtaken the temple walls.

This is very, very good for visitors to the temples, but very bad for the people whose lives depend on the tourism trade. Selfishly, I’m grateful for the opportunity to photograph Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm and Angkor Thom without the crowds. But I hope for Cambodia’s sake that things return to pre-Covid levels of tourism, and quickly.

I’ve visited Siem Reap probably fifteen times over the past couple of decades, and this is the first time I’ve seen it like this. And it’s also probably the last.

John McCollumComment