Saying Grace...
I say Grace a little longer this morning.
My bowl of cereal and cup of coffee sit before me on my dining table. The fan above me rotates steadily, attached firmly to the roof. My roommates come and go from their rooms; our walls are still standing, our belongings are all in their place. I notice lights being turned on and off, water taps opened then closed, fresh, clean water being poured into new glasses. So I say Grace a little longer this morning.
I spoke to my mother and an uncle last night. My family is concerned about my welfare, but they needn’t be. I let them know how I am, what has happened this week, what I have planned for the coming week. They let me know how everyone is, what they are up to, whether there is anything to report. My family is safe, healthy, and relatively happy. So I say Grace a little longer this morning.
I have spent the last 3 days in the south of Bangladesh, in the Patuakhali District, as part of Habitat for Humanity’s Needs Assessment Team. From seaplane, to boat, to van, to motorcycle, to travel on foot, we have gone from village to village, official to official, person to person in order to both guage the situation, as well as determine where we can begin our work, how we can accomplish it, and what needs to be done…
The team comprised of my CEO, the Asia Pacific Disaster Management Manager of Habitat, our local Disaster Manager, a member of our Financial Team, an advisor from another NGO, as well as photojournalist Mikel Flamm, whose work I am in complete awe of. We met with officials, NGOs, local leaders and villagers, in some of the worst affected areas of Bangladesh.
The situation is as dire as reported by the media; houses destroyed, livestock lost, whole crops wiped out by the winds and the water. Entire sections of road have disappeared, as have many of the ferries and boats upon which transport in this region is so dependent.
It has been a week since Cyclone Sidr, and yet in many of the areas we had visited, there had still not been any deliver of emergency food aid. In many seemingly desolate areas, a pause in our movement would result in masses of villagers rushing towards us, expecting food or medicine…
Extreme poverty. Political instability. Lack of resources. Minimal employment opportunities. Heavy, disastrous flooding in July. Flooding again in September. Now a Cyclone.
I say Grace a little longer this morning.
My bowl of cereal and cup of coffee sit before me on my dining table. The fan above me rotates steadily, attached firmly to the roof. My roommates come and go from their rooms; our walls are still standing, our belongings are all in their place. I notice lights being turned on and off, water taps opened then closed, fresh, clean water being poured into new glasses. So I say Grace a little longer this morning.
I spoke to my mother and an uncle last night. My family is concerned about my welfare, but they needn’t be. I let them know how I am, what has happened this week, what I have planned for the coming week. They let me know how everyone is, what they are up to, whether there is anything to report. My family is safe, healthy, and relatively happy. So I say Grace a little longer this morning.
I have spent the last 3 days in the south of Bangladesh, in the Patuakhali District, as part of Habitat for Humanity’s Needs Assessment Team. From seaplane, to boat, to van, to motorcycle, to travel on foot, we have gone from village to village, official to official, person to person in order to both guage the situation, as well as determine where we can begin our work, how we can accomplish it, and what needs to be done…
The team comprised of my CEO, the Asia Pacific Disaster Management Manager of Habitat, our local Disaster Manager, a member of our Financial Team, an advisor from another NGO, as well as photojournalist Mikel Flamm, whose work I am in complete awe of. We met with officials, NGOs, local leaders and villagers, in some of the worst affected areas of Bangladesh.
The situation is as dire as reported by the media; houses destroyed, livestock lost, whole crops wiped out by the winds and the water. Entire sections of road have disappeared, as have many of the ferries and boats upon which transport in this region is so dependent.
It has been a week since Cyclone Sidr, and yet in many of the areas we had visited, there had still not been any deliver of emergency food aid. In many seemingly desolate areas, a pause in our movement would result in masses of villagers rushing towards us, expecting food or medicine…
Extreme poverty. Political instability. Lack of resources. Minimal employment opportunities. Heavy, disastrous flooding in July. Flooding again in September. Now a Cyclone.
I say Grace a little longer this morning.
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