More Blessed

It has been almost three weeks since Ketsana hit central Vietnam and Enoch and I are still busy with disaster relief. During the days following our noodle delivery along the banks of flooded rivers, we hiked deep into the mountains to bring food to those who had lost everything. Last week, we delivered tin to 25 families whose roofs had either blown off or collapsed under powerful winds. Our organization is funding repairs on a vocational school in Danang whose focus is underprivileged and orphaned children; we hope that their classes will resume next week. Tomorrow we head out to investigate another area to see what the needs are and how we can help; we've been told that the entire village was wiped out by flooding. Three weeks after the storm, the needs are still great.

On our trips into the mountains, many broke down in tears describing their experience--how they hid under furniture as the roof and walls crumbled and how they despaired when their supply of rice was ruined by the rapidly falling--and then rising--water. One lady cried when we gave her a box of noodles, but the tears were from a joyful heart. We were the first to help her, she said; we gave her hope. She related how her husband had been away at his mother's funeral since before the storm, and she had no one to help her rebuild. Each night, she covered her bed and her children's bed with tarps, and they huddled under the plastic to keep dry. The typhoon may be over, but this is the rainy season in Vietnam.

One of the most touching experiences happend on our visit to an ethnic minority group in an isolated area. Though we were delivering noodles to typhoon victims, this ended up being a very different sort of trip. After huffing and puffing through the jungle up the side of a mountain for a good hour, we reached the top. Enoch and I were the only two westerners in our group--and for most of the village, we were the first white faces they had ever seen. Probably the most affected by our visit was a 116 year old woman. A family member gently lifted her from the hammock where she lay and carried her to the door so that she could meet her unusual guests. Enoch showed her the box of noodles, and she investigated each packet carefully. The elderly lady watched us, smiling, asking questions in her native language (which wasn't Vietnamese). When it was time for her to return to the hammock, she refused. First, the lady said, she wanted to touch the white girl...and she wanted the white girl to touch her. So I crouched closer and held out my arms as the lady gently rubbed and squeezed and felt each one, then ran her fingers through my hair. After a moment, she rolled up her own sleeves and motioned for me to do the same. When she was satisfied, the tiny woman smiled broadly, laughed gently, and nodded her head toward me in a Vietnamese gesture of thanks and respect. The encounter was precious.

Lessons learned years ago take on new meaning with the experiences of life. Truly, it is more blessed to give than to receive.

Typhoon Ketsana

Well, we have had an interesting week. On Monday, things got quite stormy around here. We lost our electricity and water and moved into the Brewer house about 1/2 mile inland. The situation escalated throughout the next 24 hours, and a powerful typhoon named Ketsana hit on Tuesday. The high winds and heavy rains destroyed homes and claimed lives. As of October 1st, 5,800 homes in Vietnam have collapsed as a result of Ketsana and another 163,000 have lost their roofs. 92 people have been confirmed dead and 19 are still missing. In other countries affected by the storm, hundreds more have lost their lives and hundreds of thousands are homeless.

In a nearby district, flooded roads have left many families stranded. Today, Enoch, Duc and I bought 100 boxes of noodles to distribute. We had some difficulty reaching the families--the first road we tried was flooded, and we had to turn back. Several miles into our second route, we came to a portion of road that had beeen swept away by the waters. Again, we turned back. On our third try, we made it to a river where we were able to rent a boat. Traveling down the flooding river, we tossed boxes up to stranded families. Others waded through knee-deep mud to reach us. Children and adults ran beside our boat as we traveled and crowded toward us in desperation when we stopped. The experience was overwhelming. This morning, I worried that we wouldn't be able to find 100 families in need. This afternoon, I despaired because our supply was not nearly enough.

Tomorrow we hope to try again