Sunday, June 22nd, 2003
Sermon by the Hon. Flora MacDonald
The longer I live, the more aware I become of how small our planet earth, really is. And how occurrences in one part of the globe can impact profoundly on the lives of people thousands of miles away. We’ve certainly seem much of that in recent weeks – those of us who thought that places like Ur of the Chaldees, Kadesh and Babylon were names associated only with the Old Testament, have come to a very different recognition of them in the past few months as fighting in their streets became part of our nightly fare on television.
But for all the scenes of conflict we’re shown, there are many positive events taking place that should have equal media coverage for those of us in the western world. Unfortunately that kind of message doesn’t easily lend itself to the 30-second sound bite or to the selling of newspapers. But those positive events are taking place in many developing countries.
These past fifteen years, which have been about the most interesting and rewarding years of my life, have given me ample opportunity to work with and learn from citizens of other countries – countries which are often thought to be far removed from Canada; though in reality, given today’s miracles of communication and transportation, they are not. These years have also given me a much deeper realization of how fortunate Canadians are, whether they have been born here or have chosen to make Canada their home. We live in a country in which rights and freedoms are all too often taken for granted, a country which provides a life-style and creature comforts that millions of people elsewhere in the world cannot even begin to imagine.
From my frequent travels I have witnessed, time and again, the incredible efforts many people in developing countries continue to make, day in and day out, in order to improve their lives and that of their children. And often they do so with a cheerfulness that is contagious. While carrying water, working in the fields, winnowing grain, or planting trees, the voices of the people ring out, singing in order to lighten their toil. When they’re not busy with these kinds of work, people – particularly the women – are immersing themselves in literacy classes, or health and hygiene courses.
And frequently I run across Canadian volunteers, young people and indeed, those not so young, who are contributing years of their lives to help with the training that is necessary to raise the standard of living in these countries.
Two such places I’ve visited recently (and a number of times in the past) are Tibet and Afghanistan, countries where life is never easy, given the existing political situations, and as well, given the rigorous climatic and geographic conditions that exist in these high-altitude regions. From experience, I can tell you that although their roads may be difficult to navigate, the scenery is breathtakingly beautiful.
One of the non-governmental organizations I chair, Future Generations – is an NGO committed to community development and environmental conservation in high altitude regions of the world. As it does in Tibet. (15 years ago only 2% of Tibet’s land acreage was under nature preservation, today 42% of its land mass is protected). (Describe the Four Great River Nature Preserve – gorges go from 3,000 ft. at river bed to 23,000 ft. – covering the same climatic differences as that from the Caribbean to the North Pole. Rivers sustain one-fifth of humanity). 1/7th of China’s timber resources are in that Nature Preserve and the 800,000 local Tibetans are being trained to take care of them.
Future Generations has been working with villagers throughout Tibet for the past 15 years, in programs designed to improve the health and hygiene standards of the people and to preserve Tibet’s rich bio-diversity. The community leaders in this effort are known as ‘Pendabas’ – a Tibetan word meaning, ‘The People who serve the villages’ and over the years Future Generations has been responsible for their training.
In one of the world’s most spectacular sites I met one of these Pendabas --a tiny Tibetan woman – who is attached to the Rongbuk Monastery. In addition to her religious duties as a Buddhist sister or nun based in the Monastery, Sister Nwawang carries out her responsibilities as a Pendaba serving the villagers in the isolated communities that surround the religious institution. Rongbuk Monastery, at the base of Qomolangma (which is better known to westerners as Mount Everest) is the highest permanent dwelling on Earth, situated at an altitude of 17,000 feet. Almost entirely destroyed during the Cultural Revolution, the Monastery has been lovingly restored by the devoted monks.
Sister Nwawang, who has had the benefit of four sessions of training in health and hygiene matters with Future Generations, is the sole dispenser of medical knowledge in the entire region. After her early morning devotions, she attends to the medical needs of the members of the Monastery. Then she begins her daily round of caring for the villagers.
She told us that her greatest need is for more medicines, but at the same time she doesn’t want to create a dependency on her and her medicines among the villagers, so she encourages them to contribute to the cost of the program by helping in some way with the upkeep and maintenance of the monastery. (Collecting firewood to ward off the worst cold of the long winter is one such way). In a non-cash economy, this kind of exchange welds the villages and the monastery into a more coordinated unit. In particular, Sister Nwawang works with the women to have them implement better hygiene practices and methods of treatment for children’s diseases. As a result, she was able to show us from her recorded data that the infant mortality rate in the region is declining significantly. It’s amazing what one person – a very tiny Buddhist nun – has been able to accomplish.
Afghanistan is a country trying to recover from 23 tortuous years of conflict and four long years of drought. I first went to Afghanistan two years ago on behalf of CARE Canada at a time when the Taliban regime was still in power. Despite their despotic rule, CARE was carrying out monthly food distribution to 10,000 war widows and their 50,000 children. It wasn’t much according to our standards – a bag of wheat flour, a supply of lentils (beans), sugar and cooking oil. And even though the bombing and shelling have now stopped, the distribution of these food staples continues because many of the women have little else in the way of support – over two million men were killed during the years of fighting. When I visited one of these food distribution centres in April, a number of women told me how they have now set up their own kitchen gardens, with the help of CARE Canada, so that they can augment theirs and their children’s diets with home-grown vegetables. Some of them have become so good at growing vegetables that they are able to sell some of their produce in the local markets.
CARE has also been active in upgrading the training of hundreds of female school teachers whom the Taliban hadn’t allowed in the schools since 1996. Neither were girl students.
One school I visited was especially designated for girl students ages 9 - 14 years, who had never been in school before. These youngsters didn’t want to go into a class with 5 and 6 year olds, they felt out of place; so they were being given accelerated classes, permitting them to take Grades 1, 2 and 3 in a single year. And how they applied themselves to their work, knowing that the next year they could go into Grade 4 with students their own age.
Much of what we see on television from Afghanistan focuses on what takes place in the Kabul area, because that’s where the Government offices are located, that’s where the UN agencies and peace-keeping forces are based, and that’s where most of the non-governmental organizations are situated. But reporting from Kabul doesn’t give an accurate picture of what is happening in Afghanistan.
80% of the country’s population is rurally based, and it’s in this vast rural area that the need is greatest. I was able to travel into the countryside, into the villages of the central highlands where much of the infrastructure has been destroyed – roads, dwellings, schools. Electricity, running water and an adequate transportation system are non-existent.
A year ago January, the nations of the world met in Tokyo at the call of the Secretary-General of the U.N. to pledge their support for reconstruction and rehabilitation in Afghanistan. $l0 billion was asked for, $5 billion was promised, but less than $2 billion has so far been made available. So the shortages continue. And with the invasion of Iraq, the needs of Afghanistan and its people have pretty well disappeared from the global agenda – and one wonders if the pledges that were made in Tokyo will ever be honoured.
In their desperation the people of Afghanistan themselves are doing what they can to cope with the legacy of 23 years of war. When I was in this region a year ago, people in the villages told me that schools were at the top of their priority list. Education is a highly-prized commodity. In one village I visited at that time, a teacher with a single hand-held slate as his blackboard was trying to teach a class of boys and girls amidst the rubble of a bombed-out mosque.
I met that teacher again just a few weeks ago, but now he is one of several teachers who are holding classes throughout the day in the rebuilt mosque.
The people of the village, with some outside help, had taken matters into their own hands; they devoted time and energy to restoring the mosque – it is now not only a religious and cultural centre but is in continuous use as a school – for boys and girls during the days; in the evenings, it becomes a learning centre for men and women, most of whom were unable to attend school during the long years of conflict.
In another region of Afghanistan which was relatively untouched by the shelling and bombing of recent years, 350 mosque-based schools are now providing literacy courses to 7,000 women. One young woman I met is just finishing her high school education in a neighbouring town, but she returns each evening to her own community to teach women who never before had the opportunity to attend school.
The number of women who want to be enrolled in these classes is growing by leaps and bounds – the greatest difficulty we encounter is the shortage of qualified women teachers. Anyone with a high-school education is considered eligible to teach, but even the number in that category is very limited.
When I was in this district a year ago I had to get special permission, as a woman to enter the mosque for a meeting. Behavioural change is coming about much more quickly than I had anticipated.
One of the top needs in the central mountains of Afghanistan is for firewood, both for cooking and for heating during the long cold winter. Communities are mobilizing around the planting of trees – willows and poplars. In one valley which has received its first real dosage of rain in four years, almost 100,000 trees are being planted, with everyone taking part. And its successes like this – through mobilizing school classes and planting trees – that lead the villagers to consider what other challenges they can tackle.
My fondest memories of Afghanistan are of the resiliency and determination of the people themselves. Except for the warlords, the Afghan people are genuinely sick of war – they desperately search for peace and stability. And they will work to help it happen – even though they have little in the way of resources to contribute. But what they have, they share. I have found that out on numerous occasions as I travel to districts where there are no hotels, inns or restaurants.
I am invited to stay in their small mud-brick homes and share their meals. But on my last visit their acts of generosity almost overwhelmed me. I had always been dressing in my slacks and fleece jacket to keep me warm. They said they felt sorry for me and wanted me to have some women's clothing (presentation of beautiful hand made dress that was given by the women of Afghanistan). Although these people had very little in the way of material possessions, they were very willing to share with me whatever they had.
Experiences like this helped confirm that I am indeed my brother's, and sister's keeper.