Paul Ramsey's First Blog Entry

Paul on train with Haman

Background

Five years ago, Richard and I went to India and were so overwhelmed with the poverty, we said we had to do something, but what is one to do in the face of such overwhelming need?  Taking our cue from Mother Teresa who said (I’m paraphrasing) that if we cannot do great things, we can do small things with love, we decided to try to get people in our parish interested in India.  To this end two years ago, four of us from the parish went to India for three weeks to sight see; to work with low caste, illiterate or semi-illiterate families in two of the communities Richard and I had visited, Khajuraho, site of the Khama Sutra temples, and Varanasi, site of the 24/7 crematoriums on the Ganges; and to volunteer at one of Mother Teresa’s homes.  Out of that trip came a name, TIG (The India Group, https://sites.google.com/site/newyorknewdelhi/home), and a decision that we would work to find funds for two and only two areas:  Education and Healthcare.  Last years five of us went to India for three weeks again, generally following the itinerary of the previous year.  (We plan to take a group again in February; if you are interested in going, write to theindiagroupnyc@gmail.com.)  Others who have not traveled to India have become interested in the work.  Currently ten of us are very involved with the work and endeavoring to raise funds to keep it going.  We are currently supporting 11 children in school (7 girls and 4 boys) in three communities, Khajuraho, Varanasi, and Delhi.  On the healthcare front we have raised funds for two surgeries, for one boy who was in a coma from encephalitis, for numerous bouts of malaria and typhoid, and further health problems that we in the affluent West would never even think about. 

Cast of Characters:

Mille

Mille is a seven-year-old girl who is in the second grade.  She was born with a cleft palate.  Her father, Baba, is illiterate (I’m almost certain he’s dyslexic) but has an incredible facility to learn languages he hears.  He speaks Hindi, English, Spanish, French, Italian, and some Japanese--all of which he’slearned on the streets of his hometown, Khajuraho, from tourists who come to visit the Khama Sutra temples. 

He “runs the tourists,” which means if he takes you to a store and you buy, he gets a small percentage.  When Mille was born, Baba convinced an Israel tourist to pay for the surgery needed to close the hole in the roof of her mouth. 

Mille needs a second surgery and many of you reading have raised the money needed to take her to the Operation Smile hospital in a far Eastern province of India called Assam.  Operation Smile will perform the surgery for free, but for two years we’ve been raising funds to get the family to the hospital and pay for their room and board while there.  And why does the whole family have to go?  Well, like any mother, Ramakuiyan, approximately 27 years old and married to Baba (approximately 29) for 11 years, wants to be with her daughter when she has surgery.  

Mille's Family

It would be inappropriate for her to travel without her husband, Baba, and there is no one to leave the other two children with, Krishna and Haman.  (Krishna is 4 and started school this year.  Haman is eight months.)  I’m traveling with them because no one in the family can read, so it’s pretty much impossible for them to travel outside their village without the help of “a reader”  (I’m serving as that reader), and Assam in way outside their village, a 40-hour train ride!  (We’re traveling by rail because we can’t afford the round-trip plane fare for four, though we will take the plane back to Delhi from Assam.  For the record, I want to make it clear that I’m covering all my expenses, so none of your contributions are going to cover my costs.) Baba has been to Delhi before, so he knows how to get the family that far.  I will meet them in Delhi.

Sunday, June 9

I flew out today on Air India (14 hours and change in Economy) and the drama has already started.  Baba called last night to report that he can’t find the official papers we paid to have prepared for Mille and Krishna.  They have no birth certificates as they were born at home.  (TIG paid for prenatal care for Ramakuiyan when she was carrying Haman and for him to be delivered in a hospital in a neighboring town, about 45 minutes away, so he has a birth certificate.)  They live in one room, so I don’t know how anything could get lost.  Baba explained that there has been a lot of confusion and a lot of people in the house as Baba’s 18 year old sister met and married her husband last week in an arranged marriage that the family will be paying for the rest of their lives.  Each of the three male adult immediate family members put in 40,000 Rupees, about $750.  Richard and I gave the girl a gift of $200 that Baba got “credit” for. 

Bablu left with his children, Baba right and Mille in a purple dress

The remainder he raised he said by pawning things, including his wife’s jewelry--jewelry that was undoubtedly purchased through other pawnings.  Baba paid for his two other sisters’ and a brother’s wedding as well as his own when he was making good money selling drugs to tourists.  He stopped this when Mille was born because he didn’t want to take the chance of going to jail and not see her grow up.  Since then he’s been basically destitute, living off the little he can make running the tourists.  Apparently, he gave the official papers to Ramakuiyan who misplaced them.  He’s going to bring Mille’s report card and Krishna’s school registration.  I do hope we aren’t going to have trouble traveling without official papers for the children.  We’ll see soon enough I guess.

Monday, June 10

The plane landed 15 minutes early and I was through customs with luggage within an hour.  Baba and Bablu met me at the airport where I checked into the 2 1/2 stars Jennifer Hotel (clean and hot water if you ask for it).  We bought a few things--a belt for Baba, shoes for Bablu, all for under $10--in the neighboring Kaol Bagh Market (the heat was rough, 100 degrees Fahrenheit) and proceeded to Bablu’s “home”--if that’s what you can call it--for dinner and to pick up Baba’s family which has spent the day with Bablu’s 

Let me introduce Bablu and his family.  Bablu’s hometown is Khajuraho, but he ran away in February because he had gambling debts he realized he could never pay.  When he tried to work the cabal he owed the money to would meet him before he got home, take his pay harass him and give him “bamboo massages.”  The whole tragedy--and tragedy it is--started when he had to raise money for his brother’s wedding.  He fled to a factory ghetto in Delhi with his wife, Chanda and their three children:  Sakshi (9), Jyoti (5), and Deepak (4).  He went to this harsh area of Delhi because he had relatives there and he thinks it will be hard for his creditors to find him.  They now live in a 7 by 7 concrete room fronted by an alley that has rubber-encased wires on the ground over which water runs (Are the wires electrical?  Is the water part sewage?  No one seems to know or much care.  It’s what the people are used to).  It was heartbreaking when I visited them today to see the children sleeping on the concrete; there is no room for beds.  They were very poor in Khajuraho, but this urban poverty is worse. 

Baba told me Ramakuiyan told him that she couldn’t live there for one day and this is something as the room they live in in Khajuraho would most charitably be described as a “hovel,” but it does have a bed.  The girls told me they liked their new school, but tell Bablu they would like to return to Khajuraho.  He can stay in Delhi with him gambling problems.  I told Baba that everyone seemed happy.  He said “on the outside, but not as much on the inside.” 

Tuesday, June 11

Train station with luggage carrier

Well we boarded the today for Guwahati, Assam.  We’re in the best section of the train, A2, which means that it’s air-conditioned (a bit too cold for me) with four benches/beds in a compartment--one above the other on each side of the compartment.  We’ve got two upper seats in one compartment that Ramakuiyan, Haman, and Baba are going to occupy.  I’ve got a lower bed with Mille and Krishna above me.  It looks like the 5th bench in another apartment won’t get much use, but I’ve garnered the blanket.  The kids are incredibly good, and I’ve had the opportunity to see Ramakuiyan and Baba interact.  He’s in his own world as always, wandering off to sneak a smoke or chew disgusting beetle juice, but they talk and it’s nice to see her outside the shadows of that dark room that is her home.  She talks and has much more personality than I had surmised.  I bought some art supplies for the children to play with and Mille is really enjoying them.  I asked Baba what she knows about this trip.  He said he had told her she was going to have surgery to have her mouth repaired, but I have the sense she has no idea what those words mean.  Bablu told me, before I saw Mille, that she had lost a lot of weight and Baba told me she complains of pains in her chest, so I’ve been worried about her general health and in particular about whether they would find any reason not to perform the surgery.  Now I’ve seen Mille, she doesn’t look so much thin as taller, but I don’t have a good eye for such physical changes.  I’m still hoping there’s nothing to interfere with the surgery.  It’s a long way to come for no surgery.

Wednesday, June 12

32 hours is a long train ride.  By Western standards the train would be judged “bad,” but by Indian middle class standards, it’s right on.  The bathroom, if not clean, is not terrible, and one of the compartments had a western toilet with soap and toilet paper when last I had an interest. 

On the train

The train is remarkably quiet.  We’re a noisier family with two younger children, Baba with a loud voice, and a computer that plays ghost movies that Baba and Mille so love. 

Yesterday we watched A Nightmare on Elm Street.  Food is included in the fare and it is fair--nothing special but not terrible by any means. 

Notes from the 2013 Trip

                                                                Sri Krishna Govind Hare Murare
 

Govinda and his family, 2013

I was reminded of this beautiful Sanskrit prayer from the very beginning of our trip, when we were first introduced to Baba and Govinda, our host families-slash-guides as we travelled our crazy route across the Northwestern Indian states of Rajasthan, Uttar Pradesh and Madhya Pradesh.  It’s a beautiful and haunting chant I couldn’t help but absorb in my many years on the yoga mat, listening to various kirtan artists singing this and other prayers in their mellifluous voices.

Govinda is a popular Indian name, one of the 108 names for Lord Krishna, referring to the impish young god’s occupation as a cowherd.  I like the meaning of Govinda as “One who pleases the cows and Nature.” It was a fitting name for the real Govinda, whose life we got best to know when we arrtived in Varanasi, where he lives with his wife, their three daughters, parents, several siblings and extended family.
 

Govinda and Baba were the two ‘patriarchs,’ (although they are kids, really) of two families supported by a small group of donors ("The India Group") at Xavier Parish in New York City. Each has three children and a host of extended family members for whom they are also responsible. Paul, one of the founders of the group, goes back and forth to India several times a year to check in on the families who live in Khajuraho, Varanasi, and now Delhi. Each year, he brings a small group of donors and friends. This year I joined them.

“TIG,” as it’s come to be known, started out with the goal of offering scholarships to the children of these families, and a few others, to attend English medium private schools. Paul and Michael, TIG’s treasurer and a lifelong educator, are in regular contact with school administrators and review assessments with the principals and a local woman we’ve hired to provide tutoring for some of the kids. 

Early on, TIG discovered that with its modest initial goal of funding education, comes significant responsibility. If anyone in the broader family unit is suffering (and there is so much suffering), it is hard to concentrate on the children’s schooling. And so healthcare, small business loans, and even funds for dowries and marriages have been added to the mix of items considered for support.

Govinda and Baba 2013

As the days wore on and we all got to know each other, I was taken by the devotional nature of both these guys – Baba, a Kali priest who gave us a mini dissertation on the Shiva Lingam one night at dinner, and Govinda, who led us in a rousing "Mahadeva" mantra one morning as we began our journey to Jaipur and who, on Tuesdays and Saturdays, fasted from meat in honor of lord Hanuman. [Of course, the utter infusion of Hinduism into every facet of Indian life and culture is something I expected, but it nonetheless did not cease to amaze and delight me. It is like Catholicism on steroids, the pantheon of gods like our saints, only much more fantastical and interconnected.]

Baba and Govinda were the perfect hosts throughout the trip, shepherding us in and out of vans and tuk tuks, keeping us from spending too much money on things and making sure we had plenty of chapatti and sweet lime soda during our meals. It was Govinda who went back several hours later with me into “Fab India” one day after I left my sunglasses in there during a shopping spree, Govinda who patiently worked the back of our little group, making sure we all stayed safe and sound. I am humbled when I think of how non-existent their carbon footprint, yet how generous their hearts and their hospitality.

While Baba and Govinda are street savvy and knowledgeable about their culture and religion, neither has gone much beyond the third or fourth grade. And whereas Govinda proudly reads signs in English aloud, Baba might have dyslexia or some other processing issue that prevents him from making much written progress. However, Baba speaks five languages, learned over the course of his many years of picking up odd jobs and "running the tourists" in his home town of Khajuraho. His English is quite good, his Spanish I even better, and we all watched in awe as he picked up a conversation in Korean with a tourist we happened upon at the Western Temples in Khajurajo.

Baba's home

But they are of the farming and boating castes, and, as such, have struggled throughout their short lives. Both live in cinderblock rooms with their extended families along narrow labyrinths with no plumbing, relying on a village pump, for which their wives and kids might have to wait several hours. Intermittent electricity comes from lines strung precariously across the brick walls and ceilings, and cow patties (gobar) and kerosene supply most of their fuel.  

So in addition to the children’s scholarships, which, at $350 or so a year are ridiculously cheap, and books, registration fees and uniforms, TIG will consider other kinds of support having to do largely with health and overall social welfare - doctors, medicine, transportation to and from facilities. It is never easy. None of the family members are 100% sure how old they are or when their birthdays are, and they lack all of the documentation and burdens of proof that we take for granted.

As it happened, during this trip we found out that the wife of one of Baba’s cousins had been in a great deal of abdominal pain for several weeks prior to our arrival. After looking at the doctor’s records she showed us indicating a cyst, we agreed that TIG would rent a car and take her to a clinic about 50 km outside of Khajuraho and pay for whatever treatment or medicines she might need.  I accompanied her, her husband and their four-year-old son to two hospitals (the first, a public hospital, turned out to be far too confusing and random) to get treated for what ultimately turned out to be a serious infection. Given a great deal of upheaval and uncertainty in her life right then, we were concerned that she understand the importance of finishing the complicated regimen of meds, which we knew under the best of circumstances is easier said than done.

Govinda, too, suffers chronic pain from an ongoing hernia, but it was on one of our first excursions that the reality of their limited medical options hit home. I had offered my iPod to him because he was clearly hankering for music in our little rental van, bursting into song or trying to turn the radio up to Paul’s eternal aggravation (“Govinda, turn the music down!”). I was no sooner listening to him shout out “Jai Ho!” along with the Hindi singer Sukwinder Singh, when he got a heartbreaking call from his father, which sent him into despair. As he explained when he hung up, his wife was in terrible pain with a toothache and, for reasons we couldn’t quite figure out, no one in the extended family could get her to a dentist or at least to a doctor for pain management. All I could think of was how helpless I would have felt had my husband been calling me in the throes of his worst Lyme episodes when I was out of town and completely unable to help. 

By the time we got to Varanasi, where Govinda lives, she had been to a dentist, but it was indicative of how everything we take for granted – health care, food, transportation, water – is an "operation," requires so much more laborious effort and logistics than one can even begin to fathom, 365 days a year, one year following the next.

Govinda the Boatman

   

He naatha narayan vasudeva

Varanasi is on the Ganges, and its main industry seems to be getting to the afterlife.  Hindus believe that if their ashes are thrown into the river they will go immediately to heaven, and the entirety of the city is geared around that sacred fact of its geography.  

Govinda’s family works very hard – and all kinds of hours – as street merchants near the ghats, selling malas, jewelry, river offerings and other sacramental objects for tourists and devotees. The night we had dinner at their home, his mother and sister arrived late in the evening from their work, carrying trays of marigolds strung in preparation for the next morning’s river ceremony.

Govinda himself is a hard worker, ferrying tourists and worshipers along the river, a physically demanding occupation that is also quite competitive. We saw him in action one night when he took us out at sunset to say goodnight to Mother Ganges. Floating along past the multi-leveled ghats on our way to the ceremony, he was the perfect boatman, pointing out the distinguishing characteristics of each of the series of steps leading down to the water, and expertly maneuvering his small craft among the hundreds of others anchored to watch the priests, musicians and dancers putting the river to bed.

His hard work and seriousness, though, was offset by a sense of humor, and a love for having his picture taken. He never turned down an opportunity to pose for the camera, and he could laugh when Baba teased him about hearing ghosts all night in the room they shared. As Baba put it, it was he (Baba) who had watched the movie “13 Ghosts” on Paul’s iPad, yet it was Govinda who was up all night hearing knocking noises and scaring himself silly. Baba attributed it to Govinda’s being around death all the time out there on the Ganges, but I think it is just an awe of the supernatural, and a superstitious nature, like my Italian grandmother and great aunts. The other side of the coin, as it were, to his great devotion to the Monkey God, Hanuman-Ji.

Amber Fort - Jaipur 2013

Hanuman seemed to be ever present on this trip through the ubiquitous temples and shrines to him. One night in Jaipur, everyone else was tired from a long day, but Paul suggested a late night shopping excursion. I was game, so Govinda, Paul and I trooped off in search of “Jaipur bangles” and other souvenirs.  Jaipur was probably the most dangerous for pedestrians of any of the cities we were in – there are no traffic lights and one holds one’s breath crossing the street, dodging cars, bicycles, tuk tuks, rickshaws and the more-than-occasional stray dogs.

The streets were bustling and we walked around looking for the bangles, lingering in front of stalls and talking to the street merchants ("You are American? I love America!"). As we were getting ready to leave, we walked towards a busy intersection where, on the opposite side, there was an open storefront with some sort of ceremony taking place inside, loud music filling the air and a bit of a scene spilling out onto the street. On our side was a shrine to Hanuman, equally noisy and colorful and into and out of which walked all sorts of devotees, old and young. I watched a father bringing his children in and we followed behind them into the brightly lit space, brass and gold competing with neon, and incense offering up the prayers of the faithful as they rang the heavy bell hanging in front of the altar.

While Govinda and Paul later haggled with a tuk-tuk driver, I stood in the middle of the intersection absorbed in the cacophony. Outside of the Monkey Temple, two dozen or more old men sat cross legged, chanting along to the prayers coming out of the loud speakers, which were gloriously competing with the Hindi music blaring from across the street. It was, as they say, a moment in time, and I think it was just then that I knew that I was absolutely and forevermore attached to this crazy country.

It’s been several months since we got back. Of course, as one does after visiting any struggling country, I thought I would never again complain about anything after watching men walking the streets outside of Delhi, literally yoked to hundreds of pounds of flour, metal or recyclables, exhausted beasts of burden. And here I am, cursing the trains and complaining about the weather, a veritable Kali unleashed. But following Govinda’s example, I am trying to remember to take a moment before the beginning of a meal or at the start of my yoga practice   – to touch my bread to my forehead, as it were, and offer it in gratitude – Jai Ana Purna! – to that most sacred Spirit that nourishes us all on the circuitous journey home.

Baba's daughter, Mille - 2013

TIG Update -
Next on the healthcare agenda is the second half of cleft palate surgery for little Mille, Baba’s 7-year-old girl. A group of Israeli tourists paid for the first surgery when she was a baby, but she must have a second procedure. Since the wonderful Operation Smile will perform the surgery for free, TIG has agreed to pay for the trip to the hospital for the family and their lodgings while she recovers. Paul will accompany them and left on June 9 to join them in Delhi for a 36 hour train ride to get them all there and back. He is writing about the journey on this blog.

Posted by Patti Schaefer, 6/10/13

The India Group

Mission

Following the inspiration of St. Francis Xavier, who proselytized and is buried in India, we will build bridges of friendship with individuals and individual families who are so marginalized that they fall outside the social safety net.  We will provide direct support for these poorest of the poor in the areas of education and health care.

Vision

Really believing in the words of the Saint of the Poor in India, Mother Teresa, who wrote, “Not all of us can do great things, but we can do small things with great love,” we hope to improve the lives of as many of the individuals and families we meet as our finances will permit.

“Moving Forward:  Living the Values” Responses   

TIG "officially" began almost exactly a year ago, in February 2012, though the idea for the group had been geminating for at least 4 years after 2 St. Francis Xavier (SFX) parishioners made a trip to India.  On that trip, people were literally coming out of the wall--or at least hovels--and begging for help.  Of course, being India, this type of “coming out” and “begging” were hardly unique.  But what were people who called themselves “Christian” to do in the face of such overwhelming need?  They decided to ‘adopt‘ a child and send her to a private Catholic school for $250 a year (tuition, uniform, books, the whole school deal).

In 2008, one of these parishioners lost a high-paying and -ranking job he thought he could never lose.  Devastated, he turned to a former spiritual director/counselor who knew nothing of his India experiences, but knew he liked to and had traveled a great deal.  The advisor noted that the letters of Mother Teresa had just been published and suggested that the newly unemployed read the letters, go to India, and see where Mother had lived and worked, and where the Spirit lead.  The parishioner did, and ended up volunteering at one of Mother’s homes for physically and mentally disabled boys and men.  One morning at the volunteer breakfast he met a group of medical students from Japan, and the conversation he had with one of the students made him think of the people and values of St. Francis Xavier parish as he understood them. 

When he returned home, he spoke with his original traveling companion and they determined to try to involve others in the parish in their India experience.  They advertised in the bulletin and last year one of the original India travelers and 3 other parishioners went to India.  During that trip, they began a process of prayerful discernment and discussion among themselves and with families they met. Through this process they determined what might be done in the face of such need.  The expertise of members of the group, education and health care, coincided exactly with two areas the families identified as areas of need.  Illiterate or semi-illiterate, the families wanted their children to get an education, and they often needed health care they couldn’t afford to pay for.  The travelers called themselves The India Group (TIG) and decided to raise funds for the education and health care of the families they were meeting in India.

The group created a website (https://sites.google.com/site/newyorknewdelhi/home) for getting information out about the work in India and as a means of raising funds.  The 7 students in last year’s St. Francis Xavier Confirmation class each adopted one of the 7 TIG scholarship students (now 8--6 girls and 2 boys) and raised funds to help with their schooling. See:

http://www.crowdrise.com/confirmationprojectxaviergo/fundraiser/confirmationcandidates/donate 

TIG hopes to continue raising money through this website for scholarships.  Because the scholarship students’ schools can be identified and money given directly to them, the fiscal accountability issues are relatively straightforward.  This is not the case on the health care front.  There is no one hospital or doctor the families go to, and there is no predicting what the health needs will be.  Therefore, TIG has tried to make a clear distinction between funds raised for education and those for health care.  The legitimate auditing needs of the parish and the legitimate, indeed pressing, medical needs of the poor are not synchronous.  TIG welcomes any and all parish oversight of its health care funds, but realizes that the education and health care funds need to be kept separate in light of the parish’s fiscal auditing requirements. 

The above, perhaps too lengthy, preamble is meant to address the questions raised in the “Moving Forward” document, at least by implication.

Parishioner-driven Parish

As explained above, TIG is decidedly “parishioner-driven” as it was conceived and created by 5 members of the parish.  Indeed, the values of the parish made those parishioners turn to the parish for help and, hopefully, a home base.  We want to continue, “to seek out those in the parish community” who wish to experience the plight of the poorest of the poor in India firsthand and/or want to understand and be a part of our efforts stateside.  Our approach to the families in India is  “to be a listening ear” in that we had them define their needs and then looked at what our areas of expertise are; thus, we came to the areas of education and health care.

Spirit of Collaboration

Certainly, one of the things that made the TIG members think that SFX might be home was the precedent set within the parish by the Honduras Group.  We know that there are some who worry that organizations like the Honduras Group and TIG will compete for limited funds, but we believe that such groups will complement each other and raise the awareness of the community about global needs, just as the Pilgrimage to India lead by Fr. Joe and the TIG trip to India complement each other.  They may speak to different needs, temperaments, and charisms within the community, but the awareness, prayerfulness, and charity each evokes are consonant with the values we are discussing:  “There are many gifts but the same Spirit.”  A coalition of international outreach groups within the parish could share experiences and expertise on how to successfully support the poorest of the poor in a “foreign” culture.  Certainly in a parishioner-driven parish, adult believers can decide which, how many, indeed if any, outreach ministries, be they domestic of international, they will engage.

Ignatian Spirituality

Because its work is centered in India, as was much of St. Francis Xavier’s, TIG feels a special closeness to “the Jesuit tradition.”  That we have seen a side of the world and poor that we had only previously read about makes the “Incarnational” of Ignation Spirituality very real and at times even overwhelming.  We are called to love and even eat with that Untouchable who is cleaning out the sewer with his hands. 

His child is one our Mission calls us to find funds to educate, and his hand is one we must shake when meeting with him and his family.  Our Faith calls us to see Christ behind the smell, “to find (or encounter) God in all things” and people.

Because we are working with such marginalized people, there is a great need for discernment.  “Through prayer and guided by God’s grace,” there are, at times, literally life and death decisions to be made:  If we pay the hospital bill of this boy who is in a coma with encephalitis, will we have funds to have the girl’s cleft palate repaired?  If we don’t, she will likely never marry or, perhaps worse, end up married into a family that resents her and the fact that they could not find an “unscarred” girl for their son.  There is also the challenge to discern which requests are legitimate, especially when we must often deal long-distance and through language and cultural barriers.  We pray that we are “discern[ing] God’s will and thus mak[ing] good individual and communal decisions always for the Greater Glory of God (AMDG)” and the people we have been sent to support.          

Catechesis & Evangelization

The mission of TIG is not the evangelization of those whom we seek to assist, though there is some wonder among those we support about why we are doing what we are doing.  Our explanation is that we are “spreading the Good News of Jesus Christ,” though we may not always use these exact words.  Those whom we work with are quite aware that we are a part of a “temple” in the United States.  As one of the fathers said, “You treat everyone alike,” which was his way of saying we work with him and his family “in a spirit of welcome and respect for the other.”  Of course, we feel we get as much as or more than we give.  Certainly through these families we feel we have come “to know the person of Christ” in their humanity and the way they bare extreme poverty with much joy.  Also, we hope that the existence of TIG and the Honduras Group will give the larger Xavier community a heightened awareness of the needs of the poor and marginalized beyond our borders. Perhaps this growing awareness will lead to something like parish International Nights during which we can discuss some of the pressing issues facing the poor outside our borders and discern how an affluent Christian community can best respond to them.

Faith That Does Justice

If TIG were to have a motto “Faith that does Justice” might well be it.  We are certainly “working on behalf of the materially poor and marginalized,” “who are victims of structural injustice” because they were born into a low caste, and we are “advocating for those who have little or no voice” in the schools they attend and in the hospitals they find themselves in. The pity is that we can do so little because we have so few funds.  We are educating only 8 children, but, remembering the quotation from Mother Teresa in our Vision Statement, we accept with reluctant humility that “not all of us can do great things”; and perhaps when you’re committed to working with individuals and families rather than for institutional change (a change that Mother did not actively seek and for which she was criticized), your impact is going to be “great” only in the lives and eyes of the relatively few you touch, but for them that impact can indeed be life-changing.  We certainly hope that the children we are helping to educate will be able to bring to their children financial, emotional, and spiritual resources their parents were not able to give to them.  We also hope that we can share our TIG experiences with our fellow Christian travelers here at Xavier in the hope that we can educate each other “about issues of social justice” not only in the domestic but also in the global arena.