All the new faces and names.

“Having been away for three years, I have to confess I’m slightly overwhelmed by all of the new faces and names…”

Before Covid, I usually traveled to Asia once or twice a year. And on each visit I’d meet the new children who had arrived since my previous trip. Because I stopped by frequently, it was relatively easy to keep track who was who; maybe one or two kids at each home. And at one time, I could have told you some of the biography of each child who had been recently admitted into our care.

Having been away for three years, I have to confess I’m slightly overwhelmed by all of the new faces and names! I mean, we’ve brought in 19 new children to Asia’s Hope Thailand this year alone. And when I visited Cambodia in March, it was the same deal: dozens of new kids since January — easily more than a hundred across our organization since my previous trip.

I’m doing a decent job of remembering faces (e.g. this little girl with the scar on her nose belongs at Home 4, the chubby little boy who can’t stop making silly faces is part of our Home 3 family, etc), but I’ve all but given up on retaining names. 

That doesn’t mean I won’t try. Before each home visit, I pull up the helpful ‘yearbook’ document our project manager Addison prepared for me, and I try to wrap my brains around names, faces and families. 

But even that is of limited assistance: the pictures I have for the new ones were all taken within the first couple days in our care. But within just a month or two, many of them have been completely transformed. It’s a wonder what a few weeks of good nutrition, proper healthcare and a stable home can do for a child! So I’m taking new new photos of each of our kids, and hoping that next time around I’ll have a better chance of remembering their names.

But as frustrating as my limited capacity to learn and remember can be, it’s really no big deal. These kids are known. They’re already beginning to bond with parents and caregivers who will be there for them day after day, year after year. Our homes are healing places, filled with loving families. And that’s what really matters.

John McCollumComment
Couldn't keep me away forever...

Doubly thwarted by Covid — by the pandemic in general and an infection in March — I’ve failed to visit this country for three years.

Benjamin, Tutu and a bunch of the kids show off one of the gigantic prawns we’d later eat for dinner.

And boy, does that seem like a long time. For almost two decades, I’ve traveled to Thailand at least once a year to spend time with the staff and kids of Asia’s Hope, so this extended, involuntary absence has been a royal pain.

So it’s really good to be back. Benjamin and I arrived in Bangkok, the capital city, earlier this week and spent a couple of days exploring and eating. Okay, mostly eating. For cooks and foodies alike, Bangkok is a wonderland, on many a chef’s bucket list. But tonight we experienced a taste of what we’re really here for — two weeks of intensive photography and video production, highlighting the stories and the smiles of kids and staff of Asia’s Hope Thailand in the northern Chiang Mai and Chiang Rai provinces.

And, of course, the food up here is great. Our staff prepared a meal for us that was equal to anything we ate on our two-day culinary extravaganza in Bangkok. Before dinner we laughed and played with kids from the four homes on our Doi Saket 1 campus, eventually having to shelter from a monsoonal downpour under the covered patio in front of our on-site church building. We then enjoyed the aforementioned feast, which starred gigantic prawns caught earlier that day by the Home 1A dad, John.

Tomorrow morning, we’re getting up early to walk off some of the calories with Tutu, our national director, and then we’ll sit down with her and map out the production calendar. And then the work begins! Sure, we’ll have lots of time for fun and games, but we really have a lot of shooting to do in preparation for some major storytelling projects we have in the works.

I’ll try to keep this blog updated, and we’ll be sure to post as often as we can on social media. Keep us in your prayers — we sure want to the kind of injuries and sickness that derailed our last attempt to visit these wonderful people in this beautiful country.

The time that is given us.

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” — Gandalf, The Fellowship Of The Ring

Well, this trip has served as a boot camp for patience and flexibility. Thanks to Covid, it took us forever to get here. We endured delays, cancellations and round after round of rescheduling. But we finally got here. And boy, is it good to be back.

Unfortunately, once we got here, Covid struck out at us again, and I tested positive. Although my case was minor, it took the Thai section of our planned itinerary and threw it in the toilet. So, we’re spending an extra two weeks in Cambodia.

And that’s really not the worst thing in the world. I love this country. And my time in mandatory coronavirus quarantine wiped out an entire week of visits with the kids and staff at our six Prek Eng homes. Now we can get some of that time back. But my Thai staff and kids are bitterly disappointed, and I’ve missed graduation parties, staff outings and even a wedding. 

I’ve already promised my Thai staff that we’ll be sure to visit Thailand in the summer, but certain moments are gone and can’t be recovered. So, in the words of Gandalf, “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

With the white wizard’s wise words in mind, Benjamin and I are going to do a lot of the same stuff we started out doing here in the ’Bodia: shoot lots and lots of video, take tons of photos, eat as much as we can and spend every evening at our Prek Eng campus, playing soccer, Simon Says, and whatever other games we or the kids come up with.

The extra time here reminds me of days past when we could really get to know kids by name and on a personal level. Tonight we’re headed to the Prek Eng 6 home, sponsored by Vineyard Columbus. We’ll play for a couple hours, enjoy dinner cooked by the home staff and then, who knows? We’ll probably dance. That seems to be the evening schedule these days. And it’s pretty great.

Far too late for optimally safe driving, we’ll trundle back to our hotel and collapse into our beds before doing it all again tomorrow. Only difference? Tomorrow’s a Saturday, so we’ll probably spend all day with the kids and head home a little earlier in the afternoon to give me time to prepare my sermon for Sunday morning.

It’s busy and it’s tiring. And as much as I can’t wait to get home to see my family, sleep in my own bed and take a real bath, I’m going to miss this — a lot. So we’re going to wring as much out of these last few days as we can, and then I’ll be back in the states. I hope to hit the ground running, fundraising-wise. We have a lot of big plans for the future of Asia’s Hope, but costs are rising here in Asia just like they are at home, and we can’t stretch a dollar quite as far as we could last year. So if you know anyone who should be supporting or partnering with Asia’s Hope, please introduce me. I’d love to invite more people into this joyful, surprising adventure.

john@asiashope.org 614.804.6233

John McCollumComment
A hitch in that plan.

We’ve been sprinting for about three weeks and we really haven’t let up. My plan was to just keep pushing on, finish out our time in Cambodia strong and hit Thailand with the same amount of gusto.

Only hitch in that plan? My body says, “No.”

A couple of days ago I started feeling a bit weak. Yesterday morning — Sunday — I tried to contact Savorn and let him know I wouldn’t be able to preach, but he didn’t get my message until I was already at the church.

So I did preach. Sort of. It was considerably lower-energy than I usually bring to the pulpit. Most notably, I did my sermon sitting down. And at a very, very low volume. Benjamin and I had planned to do staff and university student video interviews before enjoying a celebratory reunion lunch for kids returning to our campus from their colleges in the city, and some of our university graduates who already entered the workforce.

Instead, Benjamin did those interviews – and I took a nap. Later — I’m not sure how long it was — I got up from my brief and insufficient repose and feigned a degree of vigor, buoyed no doubt by my excitement to spend time with these kids whose happy childhood has been my last 20 years’ primary calling.

I got my favorite souvenirs of the trip, photos of these beautiful young adults whose lives God has woven into mine through some mysterious working of his will that has left me stunned with gratitude.

And then, after somehow making it back to my hotel in Phnom Penh, I basically crashed. Well, if I remember correctly, we did have dinner. And then I crashed. And I woke up this morning with a ‘freight train runnin’ through the middle of my head’ as Bruce Springsteen might have it. Unlike the Boss, my freight train wasn’t piloted by a romantic obsession, rather, by a horrible sinus infection or — I hardly dare speak it’s name — covid.

I’m thrice vaxxed, and the covid rate in Cambodia really isn’t that high. Oh, and we spend almost all of our time outside. So I’m struggling to see how it could be The Virus, but enough of the symptoms match that I’m going to have to consider it. 

I started azithromycin tonight, and if it’s a sinus infection, I expect to be feeling significantly better tomorrow. We have to test for covid on Wednesday anyway, so unless I get worse, I’ll probably wait until then to find out for sure. But unless I have a dramatic improvement, I may be stuck in my hotel room for the rest of my time in the ’Bodia.

I’ll keep you posted. Benjamin is going to coordinate with our staff to keep on track with the video production, and I’m going to do what I can. Which is probably not much of anything. If I do test positive, our trip is pretty much off the rails. We won’t be able to go to Thailand, and I may not be able to return to America until I test negative again.

For now, I’m doing okay. Just a little frustrated. But if I get nothing else from this trip, at least I have these pictures and the sweet time we’ve had with our staff and kids thus far.

John McCollum Comment
First time. Also probably the last…

We departed Battambang and drove to Siem Reap in record time. The roads have vastly improved over the past three years. And when we got to Siem Reap, the place was unrecognizable. 

We departed Battambang and drove to Siem Reap in record time. The roads have vastly improved over the past three years. And when we got to Siem Reap, the place was unrecognizable. 

The city’s roads are almost completely new. There are pristine, tiled sidewalks everywhere. Almost all of the dirt-and-gravel roads are gone. But that’s not the only thing missing.

The place is a ghost town. 90% of the businesses and restaurants are boarded up, many of them gone for good. And the temples? I’d say that visitors — especially foreign ones — have diminished by at least 95%.

Angkor Wat, the main temple complex, is usually packed. I swear there were no more than 10 of us there on the afternoon we visited. And we were completely alone when we arrived at Ta Prohm, famous for the strangler figs that have overtaken the temple walls.

This is very, very good for visitors to the temples, but very bad for the people whose lives depend on the tourism trade. Selfishly, I’m grateful for the opportunity to photograph Angkor Wat, Ta Prohm and Angkor Thom without the crowds. But I hope for Cambodia’s sake that things return to pre-Covid levels of tourism, and quickly.

I’ve visited Siem Reap probably fifteen times over the past couple of decades, and this is the first time I’ve seen it like this. And it’s also probably the last.

John McCollumComment
They don’t need me…and that’s a good thing.

Believe it or not, I used to know the name and bio of every kid at Asia’s Hope. 

Back in 2005 when we had just two homes in Cambodia and one in Thailand, I could pretty reliably give you the child’s name, tell you where they lived, identify their siblings and give you a decent summary of how they came to live at Asia’s Hope.

Today we have 13 homes in Battambang alone — 34 homes across our three countries, more than 800 kids, not including the dozens of local children who attend our schools but live with their biological families. Plus, we’ve added more than 60 new kids since the beginning of this year!

So, yeah. Keeping track of names is hopeless, at least for me.

At times, I’m just the tiniest bit envious of our trip participants. When y’all visit, you come as representatives of sponsoring churches, businesses or families, and you usually spend their entire time at one home. So if you spend a couple of weeks in Battambang, you’re seeing the same kids every day and really get a chance to connect on a deep, personal level.

So even though my trip is 40 days long, I’m really limited to one afternoon or evening at each of our homes. It’s a lot, but I’m making an effort. I show up with a bag of tricks — a wastebasket full of plastic balls, some dry erase markers — and a couple of cameras. And though my time is short, I give it everything I have.

Even though I’m just flying through, I try to connect ever-so-briefly with each of the kids: find out, ask them their age and treat them like they’re the most important kids in the world for the duration of my brief visit.

The kids love me, but they don’t need me. And that’s a very good thing.

Don’t get me wrong. Even though they look forward to greeting visitors from abroad, the most important relationships — by far — are they ones they have with each other and their caretakers: the Asia’s Hope moms and dads and teachers and home staff. 

You and I get to play games and throw parties and sing songs, but we don’t have to get up at 2am when someone has a nightmare or wets the bed. You and I may work hard to make sure these kids have a safe, loving and supportive home, but we’re not responsible for fulfilling their greatest needs on a daily basis. Thankfully, though, the staff of Asia’s Hope has that covered.

So even though none of us will ever know these children the way we wish we could, God has given us an important role nonetheless: to stand behind our staff and kids and make sure that they have the resources they need to create secure and healthy family for kids who once were vulnerable and alone.

And until God’s kingdom comes in its fullness and grants us unlimited time together, this role will be more than enough for me. 

Thank you for everything you do for these precious kids and for the adults who care for them.

John McCollumComment
Back to where it all began...

If Savorn hadn’t driven us, there’s no way I would have found the little house where, twenty years ago, we started our first Asia’s Hope home. 

 

Sengyou and Sokhean, Asia’s Hope’s first home parents, at the site of the original Battambang 1 children’s home.

The house as it stood 20 years ago.

 

If Savorn hadn’t driven us, there’s no way I would have found the little house where, twenty years ago, we started our first Asia’s Hope home. 

Battambang, Cambodia is five times as large as it was in 2002. And what was once the sleepy town at the center of a largely rural province is now a bustling city of nearly 250,000 people. 

I know this. I’ve watched the city grow. I’ve driven its streets countless times and marveled at its transformation. But I was shocked to find that this little house, which seemed to me to be well outside of the city proper, down a dirt road, through jungle foliage – is now in the middle of a busy urban neighborhood. The road is paved and lit, and there are neither ambling cattle nor sprawling rice paddies anywhere in sight.

The house itself, however, is just barely recognizable. It’s current owners have built onto it, and it’s crowded on both sides by new neighbors. But it’s definitely the same place. Someone has painted over the old, garish blue. But the shutters are still the same. The wood paneling on the exterior is the same. And if you look in one of the windows along the right hand side of the building, one of the Khmer alphabet charts our staff hung on the wall is still there – dirty and battered, but otherwise undisturbed.

Sengyou and Sokhean, our very first Asia’s Hope home parents, met us there after breakfast. The home’s current occupants were gracious enough to let us poke around the property. We took some photos and video and reflected on our beginnings and on just how far we’ve come.

Oh, the memories this place evokes. The games, songs, meals, storytimes. We’re going to do a sit-down interview with these guys tomorrow and try to get their thoughts on 20 years of ministry with Asia’s Hope. Sometime soon we’ll post that and some of the other videos we’re capturing on this trip.

But today, just walking around the home, there was less talking, more feeling. Sokhean doesn’t speak a lot of English, and my Khmer is way worse than it was, say, three years ago. But I asked her, “Good memories?” She smiled and said, “Yes. Good memories.”

John McCollumComment
Jat. Leg.

The clock on my phone says it’s 1:30pm. The clock in my body isn’t sure it’s buyin’ that.

After an extraordinarily long day or so of travel, we arrived in Phnom Penh last night at 10:30pm local time. Thanks to a bewildering array of pandemic-related entry restrictions, we got out of the airport at about 12:30am and didn’t get checked into our hotel until around 1:30am.

But thanks to the jetlag, both Benjamin and I were up bright and early at around 6am. By 8:30, we’d already walked almost four miles. We had a delightful breakfast of grilled pork and white rice at a streetside cafe and then returned to our hotel, grabbed the car and headed out to get Cambodian SIM cards and run a few other errands.

I quickly rediscovered my Cambodian driving skills, and made it to the phone shop, tailor (might as well get a few cheap shirts made while in the Penh) and lunch without getting ticketed or damaging any persons or properties..

We had lunch at a fantastic Chinese noodle restaurant and wandered around the Central Market, where Benjamin sampled his first ever dragonfruit.

We’re back at our hotel, supposedly napping. I can’t sleep, but I figure I’ll need whatever energy I can muster to make it to sundown. I’m going to try to stay up as late as I can tonight, get a decent night’s sleep before heading out for Battambang first thing in the morning.
I figure we should make it to Battambang in five or six hours. In the early 2000s, the drive took ten, maybe 12 hours. With massive improvements in road conditions, the drive is now closer to five. But traffic in and around Phnom Penh can be pretty hairy, so we’d like to get on the road pretty early.

It’s been a bit odd not visiting our homes in Prek Eng, but we’ve decided to stay in the city today. I don’t want to be driving back into town late in the evening, falling asleep at the wheel. So we’ll see those guys in about a week after we return from Battambang.

We’ll probably take some GoPro time lapses around Phnom Penh tonight and through the countryside tomorrow. But the real work will begin on Sunday. Speaking of, I suppose I’m probably going to be preaching, and I haven’t the vaguest idea of what I should say. 

More soon.

John McCollumComment