Helping Perfectly, Imperfectly.

One thing I love about speaking to youth is to see how passionate they are, about their dreams and about life. One thing I love about watching Cliff speak to youth is seeing how impassioned he becomes, and how infectious his enthusiasm is, crossing cultural and geographical barriers, whether he is speaking at a triathlon group back in Canada, or a Singaporean school or church. Their passion and zest, in turn, re-inspire me.

Last Wednesday, Cliff and I had the privilege of being invited by Hwa Chong Institution to be one of their speakers for an International Understanding Conference organized by their school. Entitled “Poverty in Calamities”, we were asked to share about our experiences in humanitarian missions. Though we felt privileged to be invited by one of the top Junior Colleges in Singapore, we both felt a little out of place. After all, we were no experts on the subject matter. But, the other speaker, supposedly from Red Cross, was unable to make it at the last minute, and so we ended up being the only speakers to an audience of more than a hundred bright young leaders.

We ended up sharing about our lives. How we met, why we chose to do what we do… The students were insatiably curious about our lives- their teacher even gave us permission to show them our video. They roared with laughter, responded with emphatic “Awww”s and clapped raucously at some points. We had a great time. It sealed a very special memory in our journey as a couple together, to be able to bless others as a team. During the panel discussion, the students asked deep and provoking questions. After the session ended, throngs of them came to ask us about how to overcome some of their challenges when faced with doing community service. We thoroughly enjoyed their company and were so encouraged by their compassion and enthusiasm.

 

There was a lot more we could have shared, in terms of “practical advice”- what to pack, what to expect, how to plan etc. But really, is Compassion just about project planning? So we focused on the “heart” of giving, which for us, is Love.

Nonetheless, I thought this might be an apt opportunity to share an essay I wrote a while back, as a reflection piece to consolidate my journey in humanitarian missions thus far. It was Dr Tan Lai Yong, medical missionary to China for 12 years, who suggested I write an essay on the topic of “Dos, Don’ts and Doing Better”.

So here goes, my reflections about my journey in short-term missions thus far, since I was 18.

We are no experts, but I hope the little that I’ve learnt may help to shed some light to someone else.

 

Do’s, Don’ts and Doing Better in Short-term missions 

” My Journey to Helping Perfectly, Imperfectly”

 

Introduction

When I was 17, I went to Cambodia with a group of student leaders on a Youth Expedition Trip to paint a school near an orphanage. That was my first experience with a rural community. Witnessing the face of poverty for the first time, I took off alone (rather naïvely and with more youthful foolhardy spirit than altruistic intentions) to an orphanage in Nepal the next year. Staying for 6 weeks at an orphanage and experiencing life through the eyes of little ones, who, like me, dreamt to become doctors and teachers, changed my life. Grieved that their education and stability were threatened by their constant need to shift homes due to continually rising land costs, I painted and wrote a lyrical picture book about a little girl finding a lost kite, somehow foolishly hoping it would raise enough funds to build the children a permanent home. Unexpectedly, it did. This supernatural whirlwind of events caught me by surprise, and gave me some confidence to spur me to continually seek ways to help communities in need.

An orphanage seemed to me at the time, a substantial impact made. Almost as if in a desperate search of self and answers to the boiling questions which bubbled inside of me, I went on a quest to see the different faces of missions to understand the meaning of “help”.

Fifteen short-term trips later to various parts of the world, however, I find myself trying to fit the pieces together. What does help look like? What does it mean? Did giving help come with a risk, and was it at times, fruitless, wasteful, futile or harmful even? Did it have to look like dispensing medication or offering a service like a medical clinic, and did every trip have to culminate in some sort of fund-raising effort here back home before it was considered fruitful? Were short-term trips disruptive to the lives of long-term missionaries and humanitarian workers, and only serving as salves to our burning consciences, or just part of a new “volunteer-tourism” fad? Could I hide my ignorance to those piercing questions under a guise of claiming that I was on a learning journey?

I still do not have the answers.

Three solo trips to Nepal to visit the same orphanage; 1 solo trip to visit a rural mission hospital in an abandoned, oppressed, forgotten part of India; 1 medical crisis relief trip with a medical team to an earthquake-stricken part of China and another there to intern a missionary doctor; a 3-week attachment to a jungle hospital in Kalimantan; 2 trips with a local church to Indonesia and Myanmar to set up mobile clinics; 1 trip to Sri Lanka with a church team to train Sunday school teachers; a visit to a sprawling ministry in Africa reaching out to the poorest of the Mozambique; another trip to Cambodia to use funds raised from our wedding to start a social enterprise rescuing girls enslaved in prostitution; 2 trips to the slums of Philippines later…

… what had I learnt? What did I have to offer?

Along the way, I graduated and was given the cumbersome title of a “Dr”. This only complicated matters: “help” wore yet another fancy hat, on top of the many hats it already wore. Students and juniors who had heard of my involvement in developing countries and fundraising efforts started to approach me, as if I were an expert of some sort. Their questions only made me acutely aware of my inadequacy and profound ignorance. Besides, I had little to offer to their already half-made-up plans to countries that they had done research on, bought “Lonely Planet” books on and drafted programmes for. Questions came in confusing, bewildering forms: Do you think this door-to-door approach would work? Should we buy medicines there or bring them over? Should we set up clinic in the schools? But all revealed a desperate search to what “help” looked like.

One day just before leaving to the slums of Philippines, my director asked me, “Wai Jia, what do you want to do with your life? Sure, these trips give you a rich life experience. But at the end of the day, can you look back and say you have achieved something meaningfully in your life, or in the lives of others? What have you learnt and how can you use what you learn, now and in your further studies, to make a tangible impact?”

Those questions haunted me, still do now.

Fifteen trips later, I asked myself what I had learnt and what I had to offer. It didn’t seem like much. Through this journey, I discovered the myth of finding the holy grail to delivering “Perfect Help”. There is no such thing. We help imperfectly. Sometimes, it is even messy. But this should not deter us from helping, nonetheless.

From my limited life, perspective and experience, I did, however, learn a few things: mostly what not to do, some on what to do, and a little on what we could do better.

Don’ts:

1.      Don’t Wash and Rinse

We all have limited time. In our busy lives, annual leave is short and precious. Yet, a part of us longs to make some tangible contribution beyond monetary funding to needy communities beyond our shores. Somehow, buying an air ticket, getting our feet dirty in the soil and bringing back some pictures of us hugging smiling children and picking their hair lice seems more noble and altruistic.

After that, we return to our usual lives, bustling through our schedules.

Those memories remain in a box, cut off from the rest of our lives. It seems impossible to integrate our experience sleeping under the stars in a village with the high-demand stresses we face at work. Worse, some of us see such trips as respite or holidays from our daily grind. After such a trip, we “wash and rinse”, cleansing ourselves from the poverty, pain and suffering we have witnessed first-hand, giving ourselves a pat on the back for having even come thus far to go a day without shampooing our hair.

Questions we can ask ourselves upon our return really should be: What have I learnt? How has what I seen impacted me? And it shouldn’t stop there. With this knowledge, what is my responsibility, not only to that community, but to my friends and family? How has this changed my outlook on life? How can I impact the people around me to see beyond their lives of comfort and ease? And later on, the trickiest question: how can I help?

The fact is, missions, medical or otherwise, cannot and must not be confined to a week in a year, or photos with brown-skinned children pinned onto our office cubicles. We must continually challenge ourselves to see the stains on our hands.

Wash and Rinse, simply cannot be.

 

2.      Don’t Touch and Go

Then there are people like me, who have won undeserved “good honour” for a splattering of trips to various places, but really not having made any significant contribution long-term to any particular place. It does seem quite attractive, to own a collection of photos of you with children from different continents and sharing them on Facebook. But really, have we missed the big picture?

There are truly a host of choices out there to choose from. Humanitarian organisations, religious groups and even small passionate groups of people without any title of being a registered non-government organisation offer a sprawling selection of trips to “see, impact and make a difference” to developing communities. After having enjoyed the first look-see trip, we arrange for the next, and the next, each one lasting from a few days to a few months. It becomes a familiar routine. Those of us more “seasoned” to help return from these possibly life-changing experiences to share at various platforms, raising funds and awareness. Out heart-strings have been tugged, we are compelled to make a difference, and we do make positive impacts, to some extent…

… except that our lives go on, back here, saving to buy the next car, planning to pursue the next degree and strategizing to apply for the next promotion.

There is no real compulsion or genuine commitment to see a community of people truly transformed. At this stage, the focus is on “me” and what I have done, what I have shared. Even though no one community of people have been significantly impacted, I am sufficiently assured of my conscience and goodwill extended to various groups at various points in my life at my own convenience.

“Touch and go” may form a part of our learning journey in seeking out our calling, and exploring various ministries before finding our place in long-term missions. But if we fail to see this, then we must recognize that our efforts may reflect a more hidden, selfish agenda to fulfil a more personal need to be needed instead.

We must challenge ourselves: After this, what next?

 

3.      Don’t Hit and Run

It is always quite exciting to plan a programme for the first time, be it setting up a mobile clinic, conducting a training programme or even simply bringing much-needed medical supplies to a community in a needy community.

Urban folk like us, however, are most guilty of “hit and run”, not realizing the reverberations of any intervention we bring into a single community. Without an established long-term ministry in the area helping the community in a sustainable and concerted manner, we run the risk of ploughing in efforts that are fragmented, unsustained and piecemeal at best, and at worst, harmful.

Mobile clinics are the closest example to me. They are also one of the most popular modes of help provided by developed countries, and most welcome by poorer communities. But are we aware of the consequences and limitations of a 3-day overcrowded clinic dispensing paracetamol and antacids to a community of people who may not plan to be ill those three days of the year? Many come to join the throng, making up headaches and symptoms of cold which they expect to suffer anyway later in the year. Most come with backache, joint pains, or depression, which could more suitably be managed by suitable exercises shared by a physiotherapist or counsellor, rather than a doctor flown in, who neither speaks the local language nor can cope with the looming crowd, and is over-worked and undeservedly worshipped by the missions team, which seem content to be under-utilized as merely taking the blood pressure or height and weight, which, by the way, does not get connected to the local tertiary or primary health services, if any, and possibly creating “competition” and jealousy.

Never mind about evidence-based medicine or best practice. We are just going to “show love”. But the people return to their villages and huts miles away: Someone develops a drug reaction and suffers with no means of going to a tertiary institution for treatment. Another has a back pain relieved by your pain killers but develops a gastric bleed with no means of reaching a physician nearby. Your team has left. Word spreads. The long-term missionaries are blamed for bringing in this team who have brought along a lot of “bad luck” with them. Years of good work are undone.

We hit and run. To us, continuity means going to a place three days a year, every year. But we leave the complications and consequences behind, while we carry on with our hectic lives in our cosy bubbles back home. Have we empowered the people, improved their quality of lives, and given them the means to fish for themselves?

Yet, the model of disparate mobile clinics have caught on like wildfire, razing some mission fields to ashes, without us even knowing. The long-term missionaries are the ones left to pick up the pieces.

===

 

Dos:

1.        Do  See Things Beyond What They Are

Now that I’ve scared you sufficiently enough, it is only right for me to paint a balanced picture. Missions, medical or otherwise, is not as futile as I have learnt it to be either. For one, I do know not every mission trip ends with a confetti fanfare of successful fundraising and publicity. But it does not mean we should throw in the towel and shut ourselves off from the world around us as well.

When we look at a community, it is easy to become overwhelmed. Governmental, political, economic, and social constraints can greatly limit or even hinder our best intentions. After seeing all the barriers, we can become discouraged. After all, after putting in so much effort in one aspect, what can be done if nothing is done on a governmental level to change the lives of the people? So what if I provide healthcare? The people still have no means of livelihood and are stuck in the slums. Poverty reveals its different vicious tentacles. We may have cut off one of them, but others lurk to jeopardize our efforts.

But there is hope. We need to keep our vision of seeing a community transformed alive, and yet, also be realistic and open to how that looks like, and open ourselves to the various ways help can present itself as. We must continue to see the strengths of a community and catch a vision beyond where they are at, together with them, instead of forcing a scribed plan on them which they never wanted, and never asked for in the first place.

 

2.          Do  See Yourself as Who You Are

For most of us, we aren’t there.

While we try to save the world, we need to realize this can’t and mustn’t be done within our two-week break in between exams or work. We are who we are- for now, pilgrims and sojourners in a complex world. On-site, are missionaries who have given up their lives, careers and left their homes and families to sow into the lives of a community long-term. Instead of re-inventing the wheel, duplicating or reversing their efforts, we need to see ourselves for who we are, and learn to partner existing people familiar with the community, and humble ourselves to deliver help in ways they need, and not what we can or wish to offer.

There are times missionaries may advise you not to bring toys or give away ipads to your “chosen ones” in the orphanages. There are times they may not need you to advise them on the one-hundred-and-one ways they are doing things “wrongly” and how they can and should improve on their means and methods. We need to respect existing efforts, if we are truly genuine about offering help in ways people want them, and not in ways we think best from our high horses.

 

3.        Do  See Others For Who They Can Become

After every trip and sharing my experience, people inevitably write to me to ask how they can help- this usually comes in the form of funding.

I am learning, that while ministries and organisations do need money to run meaningful programmes and sponsor children and build infrastructure such as schools and shelters, I do become wary of patronizing methods, harsh critique of other organisations and hard-sell methods to promote one’s organisation.

We love and give, because of God. Not because a particular organisation has become the Messiah.

With this in mind, we must remember that generosity is important and funding is necessary, but we can exercise prudence and wisdom in terms of who we give to, and for what purposes. Empowering people and help, should look accountable and help the people help themselves. While putting children in schools and giving monthly allowances to families in need seem sound, do these means create jealousy, breed dependence and cripple communities? Do people then hop from NGO to NGO receiving benefits, and buy into a culture of choosing an NGO that manages to win them over with the most attractive church programme or package?

These are tough on-the-ground challenges only revealed to us while living in a community for an extended period of time. If we want to help to salve our consciences, help will take any form. But if we desire to challenge ourselves to help meaningfully, then we must know and understand who we are giving to. There is a danger of becoming paralysed by fear and critique- in such instances, my personal opinion (or in my husband’s words) would be: to err on the side of grace is better than to err on the side of judgement.

Nonetheless, in our efforts to impact communities, be they through regular short-term trips or long-term sowing, we need to continually seek to see the strengths of the communities and help them help themselves, be it through microenterprises or training village doctors, instead of parading ourselves as “foreign help” who reign a more sophisticated kingdom among their community.

In the light of eternity, however long we sow into a community, be it three or ten or twenty years, the help we deliver is still “short-term”. One day, we may return to our home country; one day, we will pass on and leave a legacy behind, either attached to our names and withered with our passing on or shining through a younger generation of local leaders transformed to help their own people. The long-term sustainable impact, then is reflected in how families and the community are empowered and live on for generations to come, after you have left.

 

Doing Better

 

Now what? Well, we can do better.

In this season of my life, I am reflecting upon the different modes of help and how not to stop at being content with sponsoring a child monthly, or agreeing to be one of the doctors in a 3-day medical mobile clinic. I am reflecting on what I have seen, heard and learnt, and realizing that while grey areas abound, we must not cease to desire to find deeper understanding to what help looks, sounds and feels like. Stopping short of this would only mean stepping closer to dispensing harm instead, since every community is its own fragile ecosystem in itself. We can do better to re-think how we help.

 

In summary, I have learnt a few lessons:

1.    Pick the Right Partner

I am learning it is always advisable to partner an open, transparent and accountable ministry. Whether registered or not, one needs to be comfortable with its practices and discern wisely. It is easy to simply give money- it is a convenient “wash and rinse” method that we are familiar with. But to partner with a trustworthy ministry who truly understands and befriends the local community in their setting and has a long-term vision envisioned together with the local community, is not only more challenging, but pertinent for us to give help responsibly.

Mobile clinics, in the context of a ministry familiar with the needs of the local community and working hand-in-hand with local doctors and health services, may play a useful role in bringing communities together. In contrast, the same mobile clinics set up by ministries merely to establish a sense of presence and conjure hype in the area will leave a very different kind of impact behind.

So take the time to find out more about the particular ministry of interest, perhaps even spend some time with them on-site and learn about their long-term goals. You may soon find out, there are fewer ministries out there than you think who may share noteworthy and sustainable goals, and whom you want your time, expertise and money to be channelled to.

Take time, pick wisely.

 

2.    Equip and Empower

Secondly, between choosing to simply pump money to an organisation, or delivering a service, I would choose the latter. It is more helpful to go on-site to see, learn and have a feel of the needs on the ground, even it is but a glimpse, rather than depend on hear-say or what you see on a flash-animation on a website. Yet again, between delivering a service such as a mobile clinic or de-worming exercise, or training and equipping the people to empower them with skills and knowledge, I would opt for the latter.

This, of course, would be in conjunction with partnering the existing leaders in the community, and may involve simply increasing their awareness and linking them up with existing resources in their local context such as helping them get plugged into their own local health services. Most developing countries are inundated with services and foreign aid already- the key is helping them take up their own problems and solve them meaningfully using their own resources and people.

Equipping and empowering means being a stepping board for them to achieve higher goals on their own, and not us entering in as goal-setters and policemen to ensure they reach their key performance indices. This position, however, requires a great deal of patience and humility, especially in a cross-cultural setting where we deem ourselves to know more and hence, know best.

For those of us who are specialized in a certain field, be it healthcare, education, business or counselling, it may also be harder than usual to remove our tinted glasses to truly discover the needs of a community, instead of imposing what we are familiar with onto a people. It is interesting to note how doctors might feel public health programmes are the most effective means of outreach; how teachers or educators might feel schools and education would transform communities; and how entrepreneurs might constantly find means to create businesses to stop the vicious cycle of poverty. Do we more often look at others through our tinted glasses to impose our own framework of Perfect Help onto others, or seek to look at the world through their lenses and begin from there?

We must realize: our training and background or what we know may not become the solution to their poverty. It may be a means to an end, but it takes a collective, multi-disciplinary team effort, and a great deal of love, humility and prayer to truly touch, empower and transform a community.

In light of this, funding then becomes a mean, but not the key means to help.

We can do better by focusing on equipping and empowering, rather than merely funding and crippling.

 

3.    Fan a Flame

Lastly, I would say, not to let the flame die out. There are times I am disillusioned by the fragmented state of help delivered, and how I have contributed to this crippled organism called “Help”. I started off leaping and bounding with excitement in my journey to find Perfect Help, only to find myself disappointed and weary, when I could not find it. Instead, I suffered scrapes and bruises and found imitations of what I was looking for.

But I am learning, we each have a part to play to share our mistakes and experiences, and critically think through how we can be better stewards of our knowledge, skills, time and money. We have the power to fan the flame within us, and also around us. We have the power to share what we know to influence others to desire to “do better” and think of creative and innovative ways to help communities, instead of imposing our own personal goals and targets on others.

We can do better, by fanning a flame.

 

And most of all, we need to come away from all of this, and remember why we stepped in to get our hands and feet dirty in the first place. For He who knew us and called us, came to wash our feet, and desires us to do the same for others, too. 

 

 

.

 

“God will reply,

‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine,

you did for me…

Truly I tell you, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these,

 you did not do for me.’ “

 

 – Matthew 25:40, 45