What's it all about?

40 nights for the orphans of India. My 'Lent in a Tent' is about raising hugely needed funds for 'Shining Faces in India' orphanage in Salem, Tamil Nadhu, by sleeping ouside the Chaplaincy at King's Bruton for 40 nights. My target is at least £10,000 - which amazingly is only enough to feed the hundreds of children there for about two months.

I hope that many might be inspired to trade 40 pounds for my 40 nights. Actually, in the back of my mind I'm convinced that we could smash through the target and go much much further ... I wonder.

Thursday 28 February 2013

Collective anonymity ... night 23/40

'Namelessness' is how it's defined. Anonymity. 'The quality or state of being unknown or unacknowledged.' Anon.

It's a name that many have adopted for themselves as they've visited my electronic home to make a donation to the children. There'll be many reasons for the adoption, and many reasons for not, but in a very real way every flesh and blood character behind every name will share a new anonymity as the funds so generously given are fired to India in a few weeks time.

I've talked already about our own blindness to the plight of the countless invisible ones of the world, as if their need-scarred beauty in some way inoculates our vision ...


But from their end, the children at the orphanage have no way of seeing the faces and lives of the 120 who currently stand side by side on the team of 'Lent in a Tent' donors and from whom the £10,500 now raised has flowed.

To the children there's a collective anonymity about us. Every generous heart is an anonymous heart, unless more happens to create a broader crossing of lives. But there's treasure in the anonymity. I've heard them speak of it ... marvel at it ... and pray thanks for it.


The point is, for the children our gift arrives as nothing other than simple committed love - 'agape' love as the Bible calls it. No opportunity for reward; no chance of thanks; no favouring of the friend - just giving to those in need whoever they may be.

And so all you generous hearts are anonymous to the children who pray thanks for you. Anonymous by name ... but known as 'givers' ... to them you're synonymous with the gift you've given. It's somehow best that way; the 'anon' allowing them to 'move on'.

For them, their lives are enriched through this plan that has brought us all together for a time. We may be anonymous to them but their lives are bound together in new-family-love and joy in the dream come true of new friendship ...


'Dream come true' has relevance here in Somerset too. Our smashing of the ten thousand target is cause for unfettered gratitude, but also for redoubled efforts for the second half in the tent. Striking target does no mean striking tent!

We keep going, as I wrote last night, and who knows where this bunch of anonymous-to-the-orphans good hearts may take our total? If you'd like to ...

Wednesday 27 February 2013

A ledge not a plateau ... night 22/40

Today is a momentous day!

Soon after breakfast we shattered our target £10,000 ... then the donations just kept on climbing. There's a palpable feeling of people wanting to be a part of what will now certainly be a real change-making gift to the orphanage. All you donors are change-makers ... let's not under-estimate the power of generosity in unity.

The vital thing, though, is for the effort to continue. My 40 days will go on and in my mind the target was always more of a ledge than a plateau ... a place to pause; to look back at the route that took us here; to look out at the view from where we are; to breathe a very contented sigh of gratitude, then reach up for the next hand-hold and continue the climb.

There will be a plateau one day, a place where the climb will end as we stand on the summit of this endeavour, but only after the 40 nights are over ... it's climbing all the way until then.

It's like the buildings at the orphanage I mentioned in 'Straining Iron' on evening 12/40. They, like us, only ever seem to pause for breath before going about climbing higher - each floor more of a ledge than a plateau ...


Every year I go Jayaraj reminds me of the height of last year, before we head for the stairs and keep on climbing. From the top the buildings stretch out like the flight decks of vast carrier convoys deep in a sea of palms ... each deck surely long enough to land on. The teams land happily on them every year and the vast spaces become a regular haunt for the biggest screen showings of natural beauty they've ever seen.


On the way up glassless windows offer flashes of expected and unexpected colours along the way. Greens? Of course, it's India and we're in the country ... but the purple? It's like this nation does with colour like no other nation would dare ... even in its sky ...


And so we pause on our ledge. The achievement we've accomplished so far is quite fantastic. But it is only a ledge. We're not going down, so the only way is up. I'm looking forward to tonight's thoughts as I gaze up with Petzl at net. If that means nothing then scroll down to 'Return of the Petzl ... after 11/40' and have a quick read about the trio that can conquer anything!

Oh ... and I took a bit of time the other night to give you a different take on my view from the tent. This one looks back across the remaining stakes in the ground to the Chaplaincy where the best job in the world has its home. I've boosted the exposure to give you a better view ...


So, a momentous day, but a ledge not a plateau. We're quite a team, you followers and I! Fancy continuing the climb ... ?

 

Tuesday 26 February 2013

Hot honey and hand warmers ... night 21/40

'What a wonderful world' ... so sang Louis Armstrong captivated by the most simple of life's experiences; the trees of green, the skies of blue, the clouds of white ...dark sacred nights.

Well the simple joys of my wonderful world have been added to this evening by hot honey and hand warmers. I found them anonymously left at the entrance of my tent when I arrived, later than usual, after Senior Bible Study with a great bunch of 6th Formers. A few days ago it was a hot water bottle and a flask of Bovril.

What a wonderful world where, moved by care, friends give gifts to help each other through.

That Armstrong phrase, 'dark sacred nights', strikes such a resonant chord of memory for me. In India, alone in a room, the nights are a time for the deepest thoughts, like now in my tent. For the teams, the nights begin with a sight nothing short of sacred ...


They often go to the rooftop where this was taken and watch the sun go down, take a call from home, and just seek out a little quiet from the mad clamour of the masses. Looking round to the right they'd see the enormous blue roofed dining hall they've put so many hours into decorating and making special for the children.


I heard today that Jayaraj, ever thoughtful, arranged a massive whole orphanage lunch in the newly decorated wing the team have laboured on for the last two months. Hundreds upon hundreds piled in with them to enjoy their favourite treat cooked in vast cauldrons - Chicken Biryani. They deserved it ... the children loved it ... everyone will remember it. The wonderful, once again found in the little.

And now, as I write, the team are having their last night at the orphanage. Tomorrow, Wednesday ... already today for them ... they leave. Relationships made and captured on film on their first day now have to endure a parting ... this lad has stayed close to Sam the whole time their lives crossed.


And the team as a whole?

They've simply been everything this King's Bruton 'Gap Giving Back' programme is all about. They'll leave the orphanage tomorrow having given not an ounce less than their all. I remember talking to them about leaving with no regrets, but I never expected them to blossom to such service; to bear themselves with such maturity and to impose upon themselves such discipline ... discipline so at odds to the world their age would typically inhabit. We should applaud what they've done ...

 
They leave, and the tears will flow unhindered as they do so ... from their eyes and from many Indian eyes whose lives have been changed by being united. But we go on. Future teams will take up where they left off and serve as they and previous teams have served.
 
The tent goes on too. Only half way there in days, but fantastically over £7,200 raised against our target ten thousand. We're going to make it. Better than that, as I said at the very start of the blog, I expect we'll smash through and go much further!
 
Fancy smashing?  Then ...
 
 


Monday 25 February 2013

In dependence ... night 20/40

What must it be like to live in dependence? In the west we so value our independence that we can hardly imagine a life of continued dependance. I think this is something that Jayaraj understandably feels acutely. He'd love for the orphanage to be truly independent - to be freed from reliance upon western generosity and be able to fend and provide for itself.

That's why he's been working so hard to develop the educational facilities at the orphanage so that spaces can be offered on a commercial basis alongside the free places given to the orphans.

The offshoot of dependence, though, is a wonderful reliance on provision far beyond their own or anyone else's ability to offer ...


It really is the most moving experience imaginable to be engulfed in a wave of the children's prayer.

I mentioned it in the BBC Somerset interview on Sunday you can find below after night 18/40. The Tamil flows over us listeners. But as it does so it delivers the repeated humbling blows of our own names. We hear them as moments of familiarity among the mass of the unfamiliar. But the moments are enough for us to understand that those with so little are praying for us in our plenty. 

Having been to Morrisons this evening to buy provisions for our King's Lenten Addresses next week, I'm reminded of just how much we have access to.  Aisle after aisle of plenty! Maybe it's one of the reasons my own prayer life is so expressive of lack of reliance?

Can I offer yet another thank you to more and more of you who are joining in and adding your stake to the many already planted in support of this effort for the little ones.

If you're yet to do so and would like to now, then please ...



Sunday 24 February 2013

For the safety of Vanitha ... night 19/40

Well I'm just back late after a fantastic visit to preach at a school near Worcester. Abberley Hall is its name, and what a school it is. Quite a gem! They just do things with excellence. But more than that, today the Head also decided to put a stake in the ground on behalf of his school and at the end of the service took a collection for the orphanage. I've no idea what was received, but for now my heart is warmer for the kindness shown.

Because it's late I thought I'd simply introduce you to another gem - a character who has been like a precious jewel to our team in India as I type. This is Vanitha ...


She's at the orphanage to work because her husband is violent towards her. She looks after a group of young children, and her own two boys are housed in the boys' hostel. One of the things she's doing is playing 'Mum' to our team - looking out for them and cooking every meal for them.  When I last spoke to Sam, my son, he said just how attached they had all become to dear Vanitha.

Actually, he says it as 'Van-eater'. That's because they could never remember her name so I suggested, 'Think of a woman who eats vans'. From then on she was Van-eater!

The terrible truth of the matter, though, is that Vanitha is doing the cooking because the last beautiful lady, Vesenthi, is no longer at the orphanage. She's no longer in this world. Her husband, also violent, burnt her to death with kerosene, and killed himself in the process.

I met Vasenthi's newly orphaned son, and her mother, on my last visit. Can you begin to imagine the depth of urge to help?

This little venture, Lent in a Tent, is just one way we can make a difference to hundreds of unknown lives; but also to known lives ... lives we've touched and been touched by ... like Vasenthi and now Vanitha.

If you'd like to reach out and touch in a practical way, then please ...

BBC Radio Somerset and snow! ... after night 18/40

Just a quick moment to show you the early morning view of a snowy tent as the sun begins to lighten this morning's sky.


Pretty chilly one last night, but the sleeping bag is a complete winner. Here's a more general view of my temporary home in what I'd like to call the snowdrifts of Somerset, but really it's just a gentle dusting ... like the grey on my beard ...


Inside my canvas freezer I received a call this morning from no less than Trevor Fry on his 'Sunday Starts' programme for BBC Radio Somerset and Bristol. It was such fun and I wish it could have gone on for longer! I could get used to that kind of thing!

I have a feeling the show will appear on the 'Listen again' section of the BBC Radio Somerset website if you want to listen.

The site can be found at the link below, and the programme was 'Sunday Starts, with Trevor Fry'. The main interview was at 8.20am, and we also had a slot on the news at 8.00am. Click on the show and scan through to to 2hrs 21mins:

(NOT AVAILABLE NOW ... PROGRAMME TAKEN TO ARCHIVE)

As always, if you'd like to make a donation for the children then please use the link below:

 

Saturday 23 February 2013

Reverse entropy ... night 18/40

As I understand it 'entropy' has come to mean a number of things. The meaning I'm thinking about in today's post is to do with the tendency of matter in a closed system to move from a state of order to disorder. I abandon my car in the garden and over time it'll fall apart. I abandon a heap of metal and over time it just won't become a car! Shame.

But today I'm thinking of reverse entropy - the movement of matter from disorder to order. It only happens if something acts on it to change it - and what a change we can bring if we do the acting.

At the orphanage Jayaraj has built an enormous new dining hall which, when complete, will have shiny new steam cooking equipment in place of smoky and dangerous fires to cook on. Here's how it looked when I saw it last year ...


Actually this is just one wing. If you imagine looking left from where this is taken you'd see exactly the same view down the other wing. It's vast ... and it was in quite some disorder with lots still do be done.

Enter our King's team! Jayaraj made sure the floor was properly concreted and walls plastered, then the team set to work with paint and creativity. Order bloomed out of disorder ...


Knowing how fantastically alive the children are in their faith the team also chose to give them an image of Jesus on the far wall. I find that kind of young talent quite breathtaking and I leap inside to see it put into such special and meaningful service ...


So, as my eye scans over the change I feel a real sense of awe and gratitude seeing what this group of young people has done. It's taken hard and daily hours, and they're still at it decorating every surface. I'll try to show you the finished job when it's done. The thing is, they'll leave this week, as their two months draws to a close, with absolutely no regrets.

One of the artists, Elena, is already dreading the parting. "Five days left and I'm already in tears", she said yesterday. I know from experience ... her tears will flow more and more. The children are so special, to leave them hurts dreadfully.

Once again, thank you to all you givers who have helped move things from disorder to order. The fund now stands at £6,200, a tremendous witness to your generosity.

For those still planning to put their stake in the ground then please ...

 

Friday 22 February 2013

The Finnish line ... 17/40

Not the finishing line ... just the Finnish line. You'd have seen it if you scanned the BBC News home page today ... 'The babies who nap in sub-zero temperatures.' Finland giving the Finnish line on sleeping outside! If you're not a Fin, give thanks for your warm pram-time years.

"When the temperature drops below -15C we always cover the prams with blankets", says a Mum. What?! -15C and you only get a blanket!

I've been scouting for 'stay warm outside' advice among friends and websites. I've had army friends telling me to strip to boxers in my sleeping bag, and an editor of a well known schools magazine passing on trade craft from when she was tracking wolves in Norway! And I'm only on a lawn in Bruton ...

The Finnish advice was brilliant. One Mum said, "It's very important the children have wool closest to their body ..."

So I've been scouting out those woolen undies my dear grannies knitted for me when I was born. I'm not Finnish but I'm definitely slimmish so I should still fit!  As I search I'm remembering the wool in India. Not clothes, but square patches like part-made tea-cosies with lines to tie off under the chin. Imagine this little one ...


You met her before on night 5/40. Here's what she does. In the morning, and in the evening, when the vast sun sinks low on the horizon visible only through the broken shards of coconut leaves, she takes her square of wool and lays it on her shaven head. Then she knots the four ties under her chin with a careful bow and wanders from her one-room-for-everything into the safe openness of the orphanage without a single care for how she looks ... the point is she's warm.

She's never heard the Finnish line on wool for warmth, but she knows it anyway. Cultures cross through nature's provision. Wool warms wherever we are. It's nature's way of uniting lives in which we should rejoice and delight. I wrote about it on night 2/40 and often re-read that post. We cherish shared practice that brings our parallel lives closer.

News is we're about to burst through £6,000. That's not me, but all you gracious givers who have sunk your stake in the ground.

Thank you. On to the finishing line ...

 

Thursday 21 February 2013

An ideal face for radio! ... 16/40

Can you imagine it?

I'm all excited as I tell him, 'I'm being interviewed on BBC Radio Bristol & Somerset ... Sunday morning ... 8.15-8.20am.'

It's quiet for a moment, then he says, 'I always thought you had an ideal face for radio!' There's no doubting the thrust - with your face we're happy to hear you but not see you!

I did laugh in the vain hope that he didn't mean it ... then rubbed my ghastly beard and thought he was probably right. It's like a ginger kitten clinging to my face. Then I got thinking about night 16 and the little ones in India.

The joke was about being heard but not seen. For the orphans and children it's not a joke, and it's about being seen but not heard. They're everywhere in India, some 15-20 million orphans. You can't miss them. Their homes are the train carriages we ride and the streets we walk; the doorways we pass through and the rubbish tips we fill.  Seen but not heard.

The most blessed end up in the care of the few like Jayaraj ... founder and leader of the orphanage posted about earlier. Their voices now heard, these children blossom into their full selves - noticed, worthy, loved.


Why should their voices go unheard? We'd be outraged if it was us. Then again, are we so very different to the unhearing we've spoken of? We see so much so often ... in our papers, on the news. But don't we then fall short of really hearing their voice?  The needs of the 'Les Miserables' of the world seem so vast that our hearing is paralysed by the feeling that there's nothing we can do. So we go on seeing in their silence.

Well this venture and it's hand-in-hand blog is about going beyond just seeing to truly hearing the voice of those we seek to help. We hear them by hearing about them, their life stories, their day, their education, their nights. Then when we hear, and when we understand, so our will is moved to act.

So this night 16 I'll be thinking about learning to listen better ... let's try ...



Can you hear their shrieks and whoops of joy? If your hearing moves your will to act, then please ...

 

Wednesday 20 February 2013

A stake in the ground ... night 15/40

My little confession is that I'd been planning a different title for this post, something along the lines of 'What is a Headmaster for?' Why? Not because I really can't imagine what one of them might do all day - I shudder to think of the mass of things they have to deal with, and deal with well - but rather because I discovered the answer that really mattered last night!

And? Well a real Headmaster takes the time and effort to wrap up warm, head out into the freezing dark to offer his 'Lent in a Tent' Chaplain a tipple of outstanding Malt and a dose of invigorating camaraderie far too late into the night! There's your answer. I know because that's what mine did!

But instead of that post we have a stake ... a stake in the ground. Actually, thanks to the kindness of Mary, Jim, Seamus and a gang of 3rd Formers we have 40 of them.


I'm so grateful to the 'stake-makers', and now we can count down the final 26 nights all the way to the last number 1.

A post on stakes ... sounds like a fence on stilts but there's a little more to it than meets the eye.

40 stakes in the ground; for me each one a personal stake in the ground ... a marker of intent to be a part of something important, something bigger, something to remember.

At the orphanage there are stakes in the ground everywhere. There are the stakes that literally hold up buildings until they're set to stand alone ...


But just like here, there are far more important stakes in the ground ... living and breathing stakes; stakes that represent decisions taken, sacrifices offered, life choices made and others denied. Each living stake marks a life chance given for a little girl here, a little boy there, a widow in need or a family in care.

The same is true for every single donor on the 'Lent in a Tent' donation page. Each one, arriving by a single click, has sunk a stake in the ground and declared their desire to take a stand and make a difference.

Your stake may say 5, 10, 20, 40, 100 or more ... but each one declares the same intent not to let this moment pass by, but instead to become part of something different. And the fantastic thing is that the difference is both ends. We change by giving, and the orphanage changes by receiving.

Thank you to all whose stake is now in the ground ... every bit as real as the ones by my tent. If you'd like to stake your intent to be a part of this special moment of change, then please ...

Tuesday 19 February 2013

Spared death ... evening 14/40

At five years old his mother died. At six, his father died. When he was seven, his eldest sister died and a year later his youngest brother died. At eight years old this boy was left with no one apart from his grandparents. His grandfather was a bad man. He took him to a witch doctor who told him that he was a curse on the family and must be killed in order to prevent any other deaths in the family. 

But he was sent away to an orphanage instead of being killed.  He was badly beaten and tried to run away back home only to be turned back time and time again. But he was spared death.

After my night 3/30 I promised to tell you some more about Jayaraj, founder and leader of the orphanage.  OK, the one spared death is him ...


I struggle to think of a man more worthy of our admiration. I sat with a rich Indian around a lunch table two years ago, a man who knew his success came much from his given place in life, his caste, his family. He leaned over to me to be able to speak softly against the noise of the others; 'If I'd done what Jayaraj has done as a wealthy man, a high caste, that would be a great thing. To do it as an orphan is quite amazing.'

For Jayaraj no vision is too grand, no target beyond reach and no problem without solution. If it was any different then the orphanage simply wouldn't be there.  As this post is being born 700 children call him 'Daddy' even today, and many more are yet to be welcomed in.

When I consider the hardships and fears of my life and compare them to his? Well I just end up vowing to complain and worry less.

When I consider the achievements of my life and compare them to his?  Well mine take their proper lowly place and I realise just how much more I could do to bring change where it really matters.

When I consider the priorities of my life compared to his? Well I'm forced to a radical re-evaluation of what really counts driven by his example of life so in tune with the Lord he serves.

I know that my friend, Indian brother and great example is following this blog at the orphanage. To you, Jayaraj, we join the hundreds of children you serve and simply say, 'Thank you'.

Here, funds have bloomed today thanks to so much kindness and generosity.  Thank you so much to all who have given so freely. We now stand at £4467.50 versus our target ten thousand.

To support and serve with Jayaraj, please...

Monday 18 February 2013

The Good Life ... evening 13/40

So his life is over. Richard Briers died today at the age of 79 after very sadly lamenting recently about destroying his own lungs by smoking so much.

I remember him as a young Tom in the 1970's sitcom, 'The Good Life', with Felicity Kendal. I'd join millions for each episode to watch them as they carved out a self-sufficient life in a London suburb.  There was always something deeply attractive about the simplicity of their life, it's muddy earthiness, and the unconstrained excitement about the simplest of produce from the garden.

Even though there's so much to weep over, there's no escaping that life at the orphanage has much of 'The Good Life' quality about it too. There's the indelible interweaving of people and seasons, crop and table, harvest and happiness which in our world has been 'supermarketed' out of our experience. There's a captivating beauty in the land that's cultivated and in the dam from where the fields gulp their water ...
Our teams love heading up to the dam and enjoying the peacefulness of the good life it offers, and they love climbing the steps, floor by concrete floor, to the top of one of the main buildings to watch sunsets that burn into memory, and silhouettes so different to those on our own horizons ...
There's a feel of 'The Good Life' in the absence of clutter too. I spoke to my son Sam at the orphanage again at the weekend and discovered he's now read five books since arriving there. Five! Before going he hadn't read one book cover-to-cover in his life! But that was because of clutter ... always something else to step between eye and page and distract. But not in India. Life is simple, and somehow for that reason life has a goodness to it also.

I'll remember that in the tent this evening. The goodness that is the traveling companion of 'less' and allows us to find joy in the simple pleasures of shelter, safety, clothing, food and warmth.

The fantastic news is that with the help of today's wonderfully generous donations our total including Gift Aid has burst through the next thousand pound way-post and now stands at £3167.50. We can hardly begin to imagine how much simple 'Good Life' that will buy so far away ...

If you'd like to take the moment to join in, then please ...


New regime ... after 12/40

Well school's back and the days will look rather different to the leisurely hours of half-term. Time for a new regime, I'm afraid, as I don't really think I'll have the time to write two posts a day.

So ... with a plea for understanding from keen regular readers, I'll be shifting to a daily post from now on, probably early evening. If I get extra time then I'll do my best to pop in a second one.

Thanks for your understanding, and thank you to all who continue to donate so generously and freely. We're approaching the £2,500 mark which is simply fantastic.

With hordes of uniformed pupils around me again I thought I'd leave you with some uniformed pupils the other end of this bridge of support we're building together ...

It's all for them, these 40 nights, all for them. Every little bit will go straight to the orphanage accounts - nothing taken out for anything else.

Here's a link if you'd like to join in ...

 

Sunday 17 February 2013

Straining iron ... evening 12/40

They're back! After a very lonely half-term in my crispy tent the school is finally back! It's strange ... usually I'm pretty ambivalent about the return, but tonight I'm just thrilled. I mentioned in an earlier post how difficult it had been to stay positive cocooned in a tent in an empty school. But no more ... in the morning my canvas will be swallowed up in the hustle and bustle of a normal school day.

In my mental olfactory organs I can already smell the scent of building. Hundreds of young boys and girls going about building the character they'll be when they finally leave King's. For a number of them that leaving will bring an arrival too ... an arrival at the orphanage that this blog is really all about.

There, like here, the building goes on and on. In a physical sense there's the permanent temporariness of the concrete ... finished but never quite so ...

Always an iron limb straining upwards from the top of a building as if reaching out for the next floor. I wonder if there ever really is a limit to the growth, or if the building can just keep on going up, and up, and up ...

And as for the children, they go on building too ... not externally but internally. Boys and girls I see year to year become ever more man or woman. 'Don't be surprised', you say, 'that's life'. Not so. Too many in India finish their lives still boy or girl; never reach man or woman. To do so is a great thing in itself for the children we're supporting. Even greater is to do so as an educated and a ready-for-work man or woman. That's what Jayaraj is doing - helping 'Les Miserables' to take their place in life, independent and full of dignity.

If you'd like to unite with Jayaraj and help, then please ...

 

Return of the Petzl ... after 11/40

Extremely chilly last night ... should have guessed when I saw the gritters out on the roads on the way back from Bath yesterday. My tent's as hard as a boiled sweet and iced up inside and out ...
And here's the boiled sweet in it's context ... over from the Chaplaincy and tucked up against some hedges to give some protection from the wind.
Still, looks like it's to be a beautiful clear day, and all the more bright after the exciting 'return of the Petzl'! No, not some miss-spelt figure-of-eight bakery product making it's way back to the tent, but my trusty head torch you can see in my hand in the picture at the top of the blog. With the mosquito net I posted about on 7/40 it's the third member of a very special little traveling trio ... me, Net and Petzl! Together we can go anywhere and conquer anything!

But Petzl went walkabout and I've been searching for him ever since. Then I forgot to charge my spare torch yesterday and after 5 seconds of dim glow at 10.30ish life went dark. I'd last seen Petzl when he was clinging to my head 3 nights ago, but as he was clinging I drifted off. The little chap obviously took his chance, sprung off my head and hid between pillow and tent! But his prank's over, he's back and we're all happy. I love my Petzl, however little and insignificant he may seem to you!

The children at the orphanage love their little things too. I told you they keep them in shared boxes round their room - and every little thing is precious to them. Giriga even kept a strand of my daughter's hair she found in a brush I'd taken over for her - it was something that formed a bridge between their lives.

So I'm aiming to be thankful for the little things today, and especially thankful for the little ones my Lent in a Tent is all about.

There's a chance for a little click below if you'd like to make a big difference ...




Saturday 16 February 2013

'Wonderfully bonkers!' ... evening 11/40

It's been enormous fun receiving all manner of teasing comments from readers of these posts about my little venture of 'Lent in a Tent'.  First there was Nicholas and his, 'Any old fool can make himself uncomfortable!'  Then came the title of this post, 'Wonderfully bonkers.' I like the way that one mixed the excitement with the madness. 'Complete nutter' was another fun read, and probably not that far from the truth.

But I have to say - as one not really known for being the maverick - it's worth being bonkers for a cause. Are these guys bonkers? ...
Fully clothed in the river. I'd be charged with 'bonkers'. But their cause? Simple fun! Who cares if we're soaked, and who cares if we're told off? It was worth it!

Our teams get up to it too. Released from years of exams and finally free to be everything they are, they dive into life like never before ...
That's Isaiah taking liberties in the rainy season at the back end of November. There's a lovely sense of abandon and confidence in the way they can be. Hair grown (not for Isaiah yet), bodies bared, henna tattoos applied and life lived to the full. That's the medicine for team-life at the orphanage. And it works not only for them, but for the children they're serving. Free at last to be fully themselves, our boys and girls can serve to tha max in a way they never would if watched over and 'fed'. On their own they're at liberty to be all they can be, following their own agenda not mine, and typically giving more as a result.

'Wonderfully bonkers'? ... bring it on!

How about being wonderfully bonkers yourself and clicking below for a donation you'd never thought of giving ...

 

Rice Paddy? ... after 10/40

Maybe it's because of supper last night, but I woke up with rice in my mind. We enjoy it from time to time at home ... don't you? We buy it from Morrisons in small plastic bags. At the orphanage they grow it in the fields they've bought over the years and store it in vast sacks ... not that its stored for long. Hungry mouths put an end to storage!

In my life I don't really have a sense of a 'staple' food - nothing's eaten that routinely to warrant the name. Variety is one of my luxuries. But rice really is their staple - eaten as grains, or ground to flour to make all manner of rice-based goodies for dipping in curry sauce.

Out in the paddy fields the ground's prepared with special tyreless tractors. Up and down they mash the mud into a soft and soaking mattress for the seed. Then it's hours of bent-backed work planting the little shoots that one day will be life for the little ones.

I used to think that a lush green field of paddy was ripe for the picking, but Jayaraj explained that actually he needs to wait until it turns golden brown, and then in they go. Fields ripen at different times so the rice keeps coming in, but there's never enough to meet all of the need. Great loads are still having to be bought from outside, and some years when the rains are less plentiful there's just less to harvest from the fields.

We walk through the paddies to get to the dam that I'll tell you about in another post. For a westerner it's so beautiful picking my way through the rice paddy. For the girls and boys it's just their world.

But I did chuckle as I thought about paddy this morning. Why? Because we have a 'Paddy' on our next team of 9 heading out to India in July. Two of his brothers have already been and he's the last to go, but I can imagine the comments around the table ...'Rice Paddy?' ... 'Lucky your surname isn't Field' ... 'Ooh, look at that paddy Paddy!'.  Poor chap's got it coming to him.

Well night 10 is done and so now is 25% of my Lent in a Tent. I'm trusting that with half-term ending the fund thermometer will get rising again. If you're one who plans to give it some warmth, then you're only one small click away ...


Friday 15 February 2013

Near miss! ... evening 10/40

What an astronomical day!

First a meteor just 20ft across shoots through the Russian skies leaving in its wake a trail of destruction from it's sonic boom and atmospheric disintegration. Then an asteroid skims earth even inside the orbit of our own communication satelites - not 20ft across but 150ft! Just 17,200 miles from hitting, travelling at 17,450mph. I looked for it at 8.00pm but the skies were too overcast to see. What if it didn't pass but hit instead ... ? Then? 

Well how about this? At midnight, Aug. 10th 1998, a similar asteroid blasted through the exact location in space where the Earth had been just 18 hours earlier.  If that 18 hours hadn’t been there it's likely that neither we, nor the children at the orphanage, would be here now.  If it had reached that same point at 6.00am the previous morning an area the size of France would have been devastated by 6.05am. Most of the world’s vegetation would have been in flames by 8.00am, and 30-40% of the human race would have been gone by late October.   
 
It reminds me of my 'Hidden worlds' post after night 2/40. Things pass us by which, if we'd connected, would have the hugest of impacts on us. But they pass by, and that impact just doesn't happen. But not all connections are destructive. Many are life-giving and even life-changing.
 
If we can make that kind of connection somehow ... cause that impact ... then we cause the effect ...
 
It's one reason I just love this image. Here's the 2011 team on their first day at the orphanage, and in the foreground two of the children in their school uniform. Two worlds colliding. Westerners in western clothes meet Indians in Indian dress. If we'd done nothing, those 5 would never have felt the impact of India in their lives. As it is? Not a life-passing orbit, but a life-changing impact!
 
We have so few years and so few days. Why blast through life on our own unaffected tragectory when we can impact and change things for ever?
 
An impact of a material kind is possibly a small click away.
 
 
 

Routine ... after 9/40.

Ironically I'm hugely out of routine as I write this post pondering over that very subject. It's gone midday and my 'morning' thought is only just being born ... and it's all down to a break in routine.

All you campers out there know how important a daily routine is for managing your time well under canvas . When our teams have headed to the High Atlas mountains of Morocco, or the Sinai Desert for an untented endurance fund-raising trek, there too it's the routine that is so much at the heart of each day's success.

And so it is at the orphanage .. good old fashioned order and routine ...

The children have a very clear daily regimen taking them right through from the early morning 'entertainment' music I spoke about in my 'Molten mistake' post after night 6, through washing, morning prayers, breakfast, lessons at school, lunch, play/rest, supper, study, evening prayers and finally sleep. They need it ... just like I do. Without it would be chaos.

News from the current team also shows the vital place of routine for them too. They've done so brilliantly well so far in large part because of routine. There's no older leader to tell them what to do, so it's all had to come from within and from a willingness to force a routine upon themselves that they could so easily have chosen to avoid.

Here's an example of what I mean. Teenagers seem genetically modified not to manage well in the morning - hence long lie-ins until lunch.  If they wanted they could do that at the orphanage too - no 'staff' would get them up.  But they haven't.  Instead they've set themselves a daily routine of being up before breakfast for an early morning hour of painting in the new dining hall.

The extra hours have meant they've been able to achieve what at first they never thought they'd manage ... it was a huge job. I'll try and show you some before/after pics in a future post.

I thank Jayaraj and his team for the order and routine of life he's gifted to those children and for the security and peace it's brought out of terribly troubled pasts.

Maybe today's the day to click here to make a donation?

Les Miserables ... night 9/40

'You're just wierd!'

That was my daughter, Beth's, gentle and thoughtful comment after I'd sobbed my way through most of 'Les Miserables' this evening. Translated into English, 'Les Miserables' can become 'The miserable ones', 'The wretched', 'The poor ones' or 'The victims'. I'm sure you can see that the journey isn't hard from there to the past lives of so many at the orphanage.

Their lives now, thanks to Jayaraj, are full of friendship and security, but their pasts are a different story. Doesn't that dream that was dreamed by Fantine, with all the bitter loss of life's hopes, speak at least something of the lost hopes of the boys and girls we're working to support?

Maybe it's right to introduce Girija to you now ...
It's a special moment because Girija is the girl I've already mentioned who we sponsor as a family. I met her on my first visit to the orphanage many years ago ... a little girl who sang a beautiful song to my camera, 'Kata narmum en pugalidame, karturdu turritedu ven.' That's a phonetic version of Tamil, and one that our Indian followers will be holding their sides at reading! It speaks of the Lord being her stronghold and refuge, and oh how she needed that.

One of life's true 'Les Miserables', Girija witnessed her older sister murdered and faced the violence of her father. Now she's grown up, educated, sharp as a button and bossy to boot! I couldn't be more grateful for what the orphanage has done. It's now Girija's home, her family, her education and her hope for the future.

She takes some serious exams this year, and if she does well enough, she'll be able to gain a place at the Nursing Training College, also on-site at the orphanage, and the possible door to financial security beyond.

It's like this that Jayaraj has been able to turn the lives of so many of India's 'Miserables' into new futures with real hope.

Please do consider supporting, and sincere thanks to those who already have ...

Thursday 14 February 2013

Colour colour everywhere ... after 8/40

What a night! A whipping from the wind washed down with rivers of rain. But I'm happy to report to Jayaraj, leader of the orphanage ... still no snakes! 

You may wonder why on earth he's worried about snakes, but if you'd been there when our last team of ten arrived for their 2 months of service among the children, you too would have seen the spitting cobra writhing around the arm of the man who'd caught it and brought it to us see! Lethal with one strike. He's wise to worry about snakes.

Anyway ... colour! I wrote after night 5/40 about the living palette of colour that the children of the orphanage are. As I contemplated the inner greyness of my tent last night ... smiling of couse after that evening's post ... the colours if India came back. Everything just pours out colour.
Suffice it to say this is the girl's hostel building. The boys is a bit less striking! The great thing, though, is that loads of the colour around the site has been added by the teams of boys and girls on our programme. There's something new ever time I go - the Taj Mahal in large on the wall of the school, a map of the whole world, the States of India, the Golden Gate Bridge!

The children love it, of course. Plain walls are assaulted by an army of yellows, reds, blues and greens. Their territory overcome, vibrant colour takes up residence. And what a difference!

So, I plan to dress colourfully today, and I'm desperately hoping that the press photographer who visited me this morning has managed to capture some colour from my rather grey and sleepy features ...

Continued thanks to all who have donated. With pledges on account the children are currently guaranteed £1700 from our target ten thousand. Still convinced we can smash it!

 

Wednesday 13 February 2013

The power of a smile ... evening 8/40

'Smiling could help you to live longer'. So the Telegraph reports today; and not just any old smile. Fake smiles don't work. Only those with genuine smiles of happiness get the benefit!

Well it clearly isn't the business of stretching our faces that leads to more years, but there must be something in that positive outlook on life and deep-down joy and thankfulness for all we have that makes us more likely to be healthy and well all round.  So I'm trying to smile more even though I'm gazing out on an increasingly sodden blob of blue canvas.

At the orphanage there's every reason to smile.  There's no missing the deep-down contentment of the boys and girls even in the light of their heart-wrenching histories. They smile in groups ...
They smile on their own ...
One of the things I love about being there is seeing their sheer joy and smiles when the children meet each new team for the first time. Here's an international language if ever we want one. And everything about those smiles is cast-iron copper-bottomed guaranteed as genuine.

So this evening I'll remind myself of the importance of smiling - not to gain extra years, but genuinely to express the deep-down joy I know within.

Might you consider that trade I mentioned at the top ... your 40 for my 40? If that's just too much of a stretch, anything will bring a smile!


Too much air ... after 7/40

We die without it but we can have too much as well can't we? Air, I mean. Hyperventilation. Well I think I'm experiencing the tenting equivalent - hypertentilation. I've got too much air in my tent!

I knew it from the start when the pupils and staff here at King's were all berating me with cries of 'Luxury!', and 'That's a palace!'. I was fairly robust in arguing that a smallish flexi-framed family tent is a bit different to Versailles, but I didn't get far. They're a tough lot.

Anyway, the point is, smaller would be better! Less air, less draught, less to heat. Given that my body gives off about 250 Btu/hr, about the same as a 75 watt light bulb, I want to have to heat as little air as possible with it! Anyway, I'm stuck with it now - and quite happy even if wallowing in too much air.

The children in the orphanage face the same dilemma. Their rooms are big - they have to be because of how many live in them. More than that, each room functions not only as bedroom, but also dressing room, sitting room, play room, and any other room they need. Around the outside are their boxes - typically one box for two children. In them is everything they own. You can see them here down the right ...
I've seen the children at night, all asleep, when their Warden has given me a peak through the door. They've gathered their sleeping mats towards the centre of the room and lie next to each other as if to join-up their 75 watts in an imaginary smaller space.  They, like me, feel there's too much air at night.

The great news today is that donations have reached £1000, making £1220 with Gift Aid. If you're waiting to donate can I urge you to click the link now and go ahead? In doing so not only will you make a diffrence to the children, but you may just encourage others to act too.

A huge thank you for following, supporting and giving.

Tuesday 12 February 2013

Nets and all that ... evening 7/40

I mentioned in my last post about my son, Sam, and his one-armed 60 bites he's trying not to scratch as I type!  As the 7th night outside approaches I thought I'd stay on the theme.

I couldn't help noticing last night how much the inner mesh of my tent looks just like my trusty mosquito net I always have with me in India. Here he is ...
I can't tell you just what a right hand man this little net is - almost like my bodyguard! Others on the teams are far more hardy than the old Rev, I have to say, and go it alone into each night. Not me! Without it I feel like fresh meat in a room full of wolves. But with it? Suddenly I grow in confidence and march headlong, metaphorically speaking, into the darkness. 

On a far more serious note, though, I'm always conscious that a net is a luxury, although it shouldn't be.  At the moment the area in Tamil Nadhu where the orphanage is situated isn't a serious malarial zone. It has been before and might be again as the habitat of malaria-bearing mosquitoes changes. But where malaria is rampant these nets are a lifesaver, literally. The problem is, many who need them don't have them. Organisations like 'Nothing but Nets' are working hard to get more coverage, quite literally, by sending nets to affected areas.

There's a long way to go in the fight against this world number 4 cause of child deaths - 800,000 under 5s every year (World Vision stats). For now I'm just so grateful that this is one danger the precious children at our link orphanage don't have to deal with.

But it's not as though there aren't others. Can I go on urging donations as we approach and pass the first £1000 ...

Oh, and I ought to just thank those of you who have given such helpful 'how to keep warm in a tent' advice. I'll be heeding it tonight ... just popped out and frankly it's absolutely freezing!


Molten mistake ... after 6/40.

I thought it was a really clever idea. To keep out the noise of rooting animals and drumming rain I shove wax plugs into my ears. They need a good warming before being any use, but that's been tricky in the cold of the tent. So? Eureeka moment ... in a flash of inspiration I popped them under my hot water bottle for a turbo-warm!  Trouble is, I fell asleep, and do you know what happened? They completely disappeared ... sucked up into the mattress leaving nothing but a perfect waxy circle!

Night time noise is part of life at the orphanage too. All manner of insect life does its best to gang up on the senses with a cacophony of noise and a full frontal assault on the skin. I spoke to my son, Sam, at the weekend.  He's over in India as part of the current team. 'Dad', he said, 'I was eaten alive last night and I've counted more than 60 bites on one arm!'

For me it's not so much the bites but the buzzing! That's where the ear plugs come in. But they don't help much when 5.30am finally comes and the singing starts! Huge speakers pump watts into the cavernous space between the hostel buildings.

And so we all wake up to the characteristic beat and beauty of Tamil singing. 'What's the music for?', I asked Girija, the girl we've sponsored for years. She paused, then just said  ... 'Entertainment.'

At 5.30am?  What could I say?

Why not make a 'noise' of your own in the lives of these wonderful children and make a donation towards our target ten thousand?

Monday 11 February 2013

Snow! ... evening 6/40

I know it's gone but it was definitely snowing! And in my tent the drips are still dripping! I'm thinking of rubbing the inside with a towel but in the recesses of my memory I'm sure I can hear my Dad saying, 'Never touch the inside of a tent!' We always obeyed him but never quite knew why ...

Planning some grub before hitting night 6 outside. I feel like it's been ages but 6 sounds oh-so-small compared to the 34 left. Thing is, it's such small inconvenience really. On the grub side of things I have as much food as I want and facilities to cook with that are safe and clean. Compare your kitchen with this one at the orphanage...
Huge cauldrens of rice for hundreds of hungry mouths. The cooking is on open fires at the moment but there's new steam-cooking equipment just waiting to be installed. I hope to hear from the orphanage soon that it's in action. It means the fire can be outside, used to boil water which in turn is piped inside as steam for cooking with. Great system - safe, clean, and allows more variety of food to be prepared.

Even so, Jayaraj and his team always make sure the children are fed as well as possible. To go with the rice there are vegetables, beans, meat once a week, and regular eggs. I've witnessed sackloads of produce arrive late at night on a truck with Joel, one of the workers who himself grew up at the orphanage. He's a great guy, hard-working and utterly reliable, and making sure the food arrives safely is a vital job when so much is at stake.

So as I eat this evening I'll think of the children and the people like Karthi who cook for them. I'll remember Vanita who's cooking for our team of leavers, and I'll eat with heartfelt thankfulness for my daily bread which I don't ever really have to worry about receiving.

Enormous thanks to recent donors who have taken our total to £632.50. You know who you are - so so grateful! If you're planning one yourself, then why not take the moment now ...

A second leaving .... 5/40.

Night 5 done and the tent's damp inside. With so much rain there just isn't any time each day for it to dry and condensation to clear. The result?  Drips in the night!!  I'm sure some of you seasoned campers out there have a cure for the drips; maybe comment a solution at the end of the post?

Anyway, I've called this one 'a second leaving' because not only has the school left, but now my family has too!  They've headed off to Cornwal for a few days but my 40 days must go on. To be honest, even as a pretty self-motivating kind of guy I find it hard to keep chirpy without others around when the finishing tape is such a long way off. But then I remember the little ones who it's all for, like this one, and stop grumbling.

I hadn't met her before my visit in January - I think she was new to the orphanage. By now I expect her skin will have cleared up under the care of the super nurse at the orphanage clinic. She's a walking colour palette in her bright clothes and plastic jewellery, but that's fine, she blends in with the palette all around her ...

Colour colour everywhere! That's India.

Just checked how the donations are going and we're a shade under £600 including Gift Aid. That's about 6% of the £10,000 target after 12% of time in the tent. I'm not worried because things are just getting going, but anything you readers can do to spread the word and encourage a generous response would be brilliant - Facebook, Tweets, emails, or just good old fashioned real-word-of-real-mouth ...

Do keep visiting and I'll try and make sure there's always something worth reading ...

Sunday 10 February 2013

No snakes, no fire but rain! ... after 4/40

I'm hearing from India that Jayaraj and the team are following the blog ... greetings to you from England Jayaraj!  No snakes last night, no fire either, but oh yes to rain. It's funny how you don't need much rain on a tent to make it sound like you're living in a drum.

Rain here, though, just doesn't come down like rain over there. We've had lots, and poor people have suffered floods, but over there it comes in deluges the like of which we just don't see. Schools close because it's rained. It's just too dangerous to get around. When it's over you're left with the sky's exhausted breath ...

I remember on one visit it was the year of the terrible monsoon and floods in Mumbai. We had to route through there on our way back to Heathrow and I've never flown through anything like it in my life.  Descending into Mumbai Chatrapati Shivagi airport we were like a leaf in the wind. The landing lights came on and through the window by the screaming engines it looked like we were flying through solid water.

Thanks for reading. As we go on through these 40 nights I'll keep trying to bring you those moments of life-crossings I spoke about in my earlier 'Hidden Worlds' post.

As always, if you'd like to join the effort then please click HERE to make a donation
Rev



Saturday 9 February 2013

'Beauty' ... evening of 4/40

So I make 4/40 to be 10%.  I know I've only just begun but 10% sounds like rather quite a lot. More than that ... it has a ring of beauty to it, don't you think? 10%. Not sure why, but it just sounds so round.

'Beauty' is a fascinating thing. So subjective, and yet so universal. Is this beauty ... ? It's the main orphanage site.
It's hard to stand on top of a mountain of ever-rising concrete, see this view, and not be flooded inside by a feeling-wave of beauty.

But when it comes to India as a whole, it's either that wave of beauty, or a wave of revulsion. Jayaraj, man-mountain of faith, is under no illusion himself of the reality of his own country - the piles of rubbish, the daily battle with corruption; the cheapness of little lives and the bankruptcy of love.

But ugliness can conceal true beauty no more than cheap clothes can conceal the character of those forced to wear them. If we really look to see, we can't help but be captivated by the breathtaking beauty of the land and people that go by the name 'India'.

Please come and join me in this 40 night venture for the beauty of a nation and people like no other. My tent looks like one with no mates ... a lonely one that's missed the party. Still ... it's home for another night for the sake of the little ones.

Please just click HERE to make a donation and then dream of what your moment might bring.