Things I have learned

One of the joys of going on a missionary trip is learning new things. Here are some things that I have learned during my short stay in Madagascar:

Translating English hymns into French: I remember that I had the vision of going to Africa one day when I was in grade 9. So I decided to take IGCSE French, even though it was one of the dullest class in school. I never imagined that the Lord would use me to translate English hymns into French. With the help of a local sister, we have translated more than 15 songs.

Bargaining in Malagasy: Learning a new language is survival skills, I tell you. At first we bought groceries at the super market until we discovered the market. It's so much cheaper! I had to learn some Malagasy to bargain.

Teaching ESL to Elementary students: Being the shy person I am, I was terrified of teaching 15+ Malagasy students English every Wednesday and Saturday. But it's actually not that bad. I learned to use songs, games and questions to make my lessons interesting and interactive. At first, the students did not know any English at all, but they have learned some English to make conversation with the team members. Their progress is so encouraging.

How to cut a pineapple: In Fiji, I learned how to open a coconut. This time I learned to cut pineapples. Pineapples are cheap and sweet in Madagascar.

When trials sore, make yourself happy: Received a reminder? You know it's right but you're having a hard time accepting it? Buy yourself some pastry! I learned that the only person who can make you truly happy (apart from the Lord) is yourself. One of the biggest lessons I learned in this trip is to help yourself, make yourself happy so that you can make those around you happy.

Exercise: "Don't just try, DO!" This is one of the phrases that impacted me a lot during this mission trip. I've always wanted to exercise and lose weight. I would even spend time to plan my routine but I never do it at the end. But this time, I pushed myself to wake up at 6:30am to run up and down a hill for 30 minutes. Result: I lost 5 pounds. 5 more pounds to go!

Be yourself: After the recent revelation, I learned the importance of being humble and being yourself. Be happy! Laugh until your stomach hurts. Share your happy moment with everyone. Accept and love yourself because God loves you just the way you are.

Humility and Transformation

I could not sleep well last night.

Maybe it was the annoying buzz of the mosquito trapped in my sleeping bag, or my fingers itching from the bites. Or maybe it was the stream of thoughts that kept pulsating through my mind ever since dinner time.

I never met such a man like him in my life.

A deep and gentle soul rested underneath his fast-paced expressions and outgoing exterior. There was depth, richness and glory in his words and actions.

He was once shy, and looked down upon the brothers and sisters at Church. Yet it was his sincere faith and fervent love towards God that compelled him to serve the Lord in Hong Kong and Madagascar. He also faced great failures in his life, but it was his humility that lifted him up from the pit.

There was something in him that I cannot fully describe. Maybe it was his tempered gentle spirit that was so Christ-like that inspired me to believe in Him and myself again.

I am not trying to overly praise this brother. But I must say that his humility to admit past failures is quite admirable.

His life experiences made me deeply ponder upon the subject of faith.

Faith is a matter of conviction.

Again, I repeat: Faith is a matter of conviction. 

This year, I dared to ask questions that I never asked before in my life:

Do I really believe in what I believe in?

Or do I merely follow what others tell me in order to gain acceptance?

Yes, I started to question. And my spirit suffered as a result. I was like a chaff tossed unto the waves of uncertainties.

And there was another thing that contributed to my spiritual downfall without me realizing it:

I started to care how people looked at me. Specially people at church.

This concept made me do things for the wrong reasons.

I was afraid of skipping meetings because people might think that I was a bad Christian. I tried to be more involved in ministry and missionary trips to gain recognition.

And this brought me to a further point that scared me:

Pride.

Me, proud?

Yes.

Ouch.

[Yes, I cried all night when I fully realized the extent of my pride.]

And this is when humility started to kick in. It's painful when you first admit to it, but it's the first step for transformation.

I said to myself: I do not want to suffer anymore! What happened to those days when I loved to draw near to Him and go to church without any pressure? I missed those days so dearly. So I prayed to the Lord to renew me and take away my pride.

And He, like a jealous Lover, demolished all my idols and purified my inner temple.

He is the motivation of why I should draw near to Him. He is the motivation of why I should go to church and love my brothers and sisters. I said to my heart: Go to Him! Talk to Him! Cling to Him! My precious Friend who has never left my side.

I believe that the Holy Spirit has worked mightily in my heart during this trip. I can now say that Christ is the centre of my life. And it brings me such great joy when I know that my life is for Him. I no longer live for myself but for the Lord. Everything I do is for the Lord.

This conviction, this ounce of faith has brought me out of the pit of self-loath, self-pity, false humility and even self-rigtheousness. I no longer care what other people think of me, because my life is for the Lord.

All my doubts and worries were gone. GONE.

I started to feel alive again.

And I realized that there is a great joy when one does not think of oneself but of the Lord and those whom He dearly loves. This is the life that I was meant to live.

He has become my life. YES!

And this brings me to this point again:

Faith is a matter of conviction. Faith is a matter of personal choice.

And this is what I believe today: It is no longer I who live, but Christ lives in me.

I have never been happier in my life. I have never been so close to the Lord before.

And thus, my life has been transformed!

Portrait of a Young Boy in Antananarivo

He sat in one corner of the room. His eyes were closed, his arms against his chest shivering. He rested peacefully as the congregation lifted up their hands to sing songs of praise. Yet, his blood-shot eyes kept screaming some kind of silent pain. He was not well, yet he kept still. The quietness caused a silent discomfort in the room.

“Said, do you want to take some Panadol?”

His name sounded like the wind. Say it softly; you can feel a gentle breeze blowing through your lips. Say it loudly; and it sounds like a storm blowing through desert land.  

“SAAAIIIDDD!!!”

“Yes?”

“Time to get up and go to the market. Don’t be late.”

It was still dark. He rose from the icy bare floor. He had no bed but only a simple blanket -not enough to keep him warm at night. His arms and legs were stiff with the cold as he gathered the baskets of vegetables, and set off to go sell at the market before school.

“Someone took pity of him because both of his parents are mentally ill.” the director told me as we were pacing rapidly towards the hospital.

He lived with a distant relative in a squatter house in Manjagaray. There is a tradition in Madagascar that once a relative takes in a boy; he works as a servant for food and board.  

We arrived at the hospital, and were directed to Dr. Ratakoianana office. He was lying down on a bench, the IV in one arm, a brother’s hand in the other. He had a 40 degree fever, and was in deep pain. Yet a peaceful tranquility still emanated from his face.

“Many children in the school get sick but their parents rarely take care of them. Even when they are sick, they still come because there is nothing to eat at home,” the director explained to me as we sat on the waiting room.

We waited until the last drop of Paracetamol glided through the IV into his arm. He was discharged, but the doctor recommended him to be hospitalized. She suspected that a renal failure was causing the fever.

We went to the Patisserie next door to buy some pastry for him. We were trying to decide whether to send him home or hospitalize him as the doctor suggested.

“Said, do you want to go home and ask your relatives about this matter?”

He quickly shook his head.

“No, let’s go back to church.”

“Said, are you sure?”

“Yes,” he insisted.

Once we arrived at church, we covered him with blankets. He lied down in one of the benches in the basement. The children crowded curiously around him, offering much comfort and smiles. But soon after they were told to leave him alone so that he could rest.

I came downstairs with a plate of rice and beans. As I was putting down the plate, I saw him close his eyes and smile.

He was home. And he was well at last.

Community

Community. This is a concept that I have been pondering ever since I finished my practicum as a Career Preparation Instructor early this year. Before, I thought that community was a group of people living in the same geographic location. But it goes beyond that definition. Community has a much deeper meaning. A community is like an organism that feeds, nurtures and protects all its members. No man is an island. We belong to communities.

Today, we had a graduation ceremony at the Light and Love School in Antananarivo. All the students and their parents came together to dance, sing and celebrate their appreciation to the teachers and one another. I was touched by the people's sincerity, laughter and even tears. I felt that we were more than a community. We were a family.

After the graduation, the co-workers and the missionary team came together to give thanks for the Lord's blessings in the past school year. We raised our hands and sang "Psalm 103" and "Grace upon Grace" with all our hearts. I was touched by the Lord's grace towards His work in Madagascar. In spite of our limited resources (we do not have enough money to cover the expenses), and having only 3 co-workers, we managed to provide food and education for 120 students for the past 2 years. But most importantly, we were able to bring many students to Christ.

Value System

If you had $70,000 USD in your hands, what would you do with that money?

Buy a flashy car?

Make a down payment for a new house?

Or sponsor 2 schools in Madagascar and feed 100+ students for 1 year?

See, before I used to think that money well spent was money spent on my family or myself. However, my value system has changed after this trip. I cannot stand indifferent when I see so much need and poverty around me. These students have hardly anything to eat. Some of them beg for food in the streets. Many of our students don't even have beds at home. Many of them are neglected and abandoned by their families. 

Some people may criticize that charity creates dependance. But at least we can bring these students to dignity. Who knows if one of our students become a doctor? or an engineer? or a famous preacher? or the future president of Madagascar? We are saving lives and we are giving hope to their future.

Remember, it's more blessed to give than to receive!

Tamatave

Day five. We woke up at the crack of dawn to get ready for our 8-hour journey to Tamatave, a town in the East coast of Madagascar. The local brothers and sisters came to help us carry our luggage to the taxi, and see us off at the bus stop. Blessed souls. I was touched by their affection and their willingness to help our way around town.

There is something riveting about Malagasy culture. Even at the wee hours of the morning, hawkers surrounded us offering an array of items –watches, snacks, sunglasses and even “blessings.” We kept saying no. But I must say that their persistence was admirable.  

Side note: It's funny that the local Malagasy brothers and sisters know more Cantonese than our brothers.

We’ve been previously warned that the journey would be bumpy and that most brothers and sisters throw up during the ride. I tried not to eat breakfast, and drank little water because it would be inconvenient to go to the washroom.

Turns out that the car ride was smooth and pleasant. I enjoyed watching the beautiful scenery –rolling lush hills against clear blue skies. Wild banana plantations. Rivers flowing through untamed land. And there was 80s/90s music playing in the background. You can't go wrong with that. Like one of the brothers commented, the driver had a pretty good taste. I found it quite befitting that one of Michael Jackson's old songs "We are the World" was playing in the background since we were going to Tamatave for a humanitarian cause. Hehe. 

At noon we stopped by for lunch. The restaurant was scanty, a bit too rustic for my taste. But the food was okay. They had only two items on the menu: beef and fish. For those wondering what Malagasy food is like...it's basically like Chinese food. A big heap of rice on a plate (by big, I mean humongous), and some meat and veggies as side dishes. It was a pretty good deal...$1.5 for a meal. Not bad. 

However, I’ve experienced a major culture shock during my first "African toilet experience." When the restaurant owner kindly showed me the toilet...I couldn't help myself but to look bewildered and ask..."that's it?" No hole? No latrine? There was nothing but planks of wood and the stench of urine on the floor. I quickly composed myself and yielded for necessity's sake. I must say that it was quite an experience. 

We arrived to Tamatave around 3:30pm. The local people gathered around, ready to unload our luggage and take us into their tricycles.