Slumdog No More!

That Slumdog Millionaire received Best Picture at the recent Academy Awards has raised eyebrows both here and abroad. Knowing that I would be traveling back to India, I thought it to be a good opportunity to explore the phenomena that seems to have overtaken both L.A.'s Hollywood and Mumbai's Bollywood and their respective self-absorbed denizens. Hollywood seems intent on glamorizing the underdog while voices in India express some resentment that the movie industry is accentuating their poverty.

However, my recent trips to India have confirmed to me that the depictions of the Slumdog movie are very, very real. Beginning with my rough and tumble ride from the airport, each pause for traffic snarls or a stoplight would produce waif's at my window...pleading with unintelligible mumbling for money or food. The taxi and tuk-tuk drivers were content to let them harass their passengers with nary a signal to motion them away.

Just moments before a million dollar smile graced their faces when I passed a simple 100 Rupee note ($2.00 US) through the opening of my tuk-tuk.

On a Saturday afternoon, these boys were hanging out in what could have been a beautiful park...if only there were a little more pride in the upkeep. I asked them to smile for the camera but the smiles were difficult to muster. Life to them is very, very solemn as they struggle to live on US$2 per day.
After putting in a 5 mile run through the polluted and crowded streets of Delhi, I flagged down a tuk-tuk for a quick jaunt to the Market Place. The crowds were immense, the prices depressed and the quality of goods suspect. In addition to the numerous stalls that lined the alleyways were a legion of 6 to 9 year olds...each hawking their own measly gadgets. I was an easy target and dare not make eye contact lest I immediately grow an extra appendage.

However, there was one child that caught my attention...not because of his wares but because of him as a person. The eight year old boy was clean, well-dressed, spoke very good English and was cleverly engaging. Sumkhit was name and he was a vendor of beaded necklaces made by his own hands. I thought to buy one or two as a reward for him rather than a need for myself. But prior to giving him a few rupees, I allowed him to be my guide to the different kiosks around the Market. I offered to buy a few strands and he pleaded that I buy more. For if he could just make 500 rupees (US $10) he would be able to close up shop and head off to school. While I fully intended to be the benefactor of his daily quota, I playfully made him work for it. It was obvious to the other child vendors that Sumkhit had a big fish on the line. They tagged along with us as we made our way through the maddening crowds. But rather than try to compete with wares of their own, they spoke to me in support of their friend. "He's a good boy!" said one of the younger children in broken English. "You know, mister, he goes to school!" said another. At last the transaction was about to occur but not without a photo together with my new friend. Sumkhit was determined that the Slumdog label would not define who he is or what he was striving to become. I have no doubt that this entrepreneurial young lad will succeed at what he envisions.

My new friend Sumkhit at the conclusion of our business transaction

That was Saturday. On Sunday I was able to find my way to a local branch of the Mormon Church where I witnessed the most inspiring moments. It was the first Sunday and so members of the Branch were allowed to stand and bear their testimonies of the gospel of Jesus Christ. It was a reaffirmation that the gospel is truly being taken to all corners of the world. Testimony meeting was filled with impassioned words from youth and adult alike. There were no "rote" testimonies but rather emotional renderings of the heart. While English was broadly spoken, it was not uncommon for the person to break into Hindi to more fully convey their thoughts.

A young father and his daughter investigating the church on Sunday morning.

The North India mission was recently dedicated by Dallin H. Oakes. While the mission includes Pakistan, Bangladesh and Norther India--Elder Oakes indicated that all emphasis would be centered in Delhi. There are six branches and 700 members with over 100 converts in just the past 12 months. Most converts come from a Christian background but many Hindus are receiving the gospel as well.

Aarti Choundarg and her daughter Nandini were baptized the night before. 14 year old Nandini stood and bore her testimony of the happiness that had come into their lives as her mother wiped away tears with her Sari.

A young missionary from Star Valley, Wyoming indicated that there will be an explosion of growth once the Church opens up a Hindi speaking mission. "They are so focused on family and understand the gospel message. But with their lack of education in the English language, they are unable to communicate."

India is truly a study in contrasts. From the pitiful nature of the begging children with hands extending into my taxi and tuk-tuk to the maturity and gratitude for a promising life from young Nandini. To remove the dogma of "slumdog" requires not only a will to do so but also a way. For those 150 people in the meeting house on Sunday morning, the way was clear.

Far, Far Away

As the season of gratitude and adoration approaches, I have been spending time in the mid-east; very near where the chosen young woman gave birth to the Christ child. As I observed the people and places around me, I found that the last is not only near the small town of Bethlehem geographically but also in the many customs which prevailed at that time and seem to stand still in their perseverance in the culture today.

A newly constructed Mosque in Abu Dahbi...largest in the world.

Non-Muslims persona non-Grata.

The piety of the people still exists although not without a struggle in a world that is closing around them. To varying degrees, depending upon the country or the emirate in which one may be interning, men faithfully pray five times a day; alcohol, movies and dating are banned; the scriptures (Koran) are studied daily; marriages (up to three) are arranged; women are surrounded by security by fully covering their bodies and avoiding even the appearance of being in a position where a man might not control his carnal desires and thereby violate the woman; and crime is virtually non-existent. And yet they struggle with modern day temptations that did not exist prior to the world's thirst for oil and the wealth and power that it brought to them. They now have the wealth to exhibit their own form of decadence...perhaps not in drugs, alcohol or lewd immodesty but in all of the creature comforts of home, auto & whimsical travel...just because they can.

The women also are bombarded with the temptations of wealth. And yet, astonishingly, they continue to embrace their traditions. Although it can't be easy. The hotel health club posts articles to remind patrons that nudity is against the law...even in the locker rooms. And yet as I leave the club desk, there are women in full burqa's signing in to use the plush facilities.

Notice the shop promoting the seductive mid-drift gown next to the shop with the women's uniform for the faithful Muslim woman.

Killing some time while waiting for my midnight departure back to the States, I wandered through a modern shopping mall and marveled at the dichotomy. In a land where women stoically adhere to the dress code of black from pate to pinkie, there are high fashion shops that boast the latest fashions from France and New York. While many of the fashionable gowns extended to cover the feet in a flowing manner reminiscent of Guenevere, the amount of material necessary to complete the upper portion of the gown is vastly decreasing. It is no wonder that the stalwarts of Islam blame the West for the decadence that is tempting their women. After all, local fashion is only mimicking the ubiquitous satellite feeds from Hollywood made possible by 20th century technology.

An obedient Muslim woman exits a store with all of the modern day fashions..

less material--more flesh! Who is to blame?

The chasm between the wealthy and poor is on display in a much greater degree and in more confrontational venues that what I experience in my own homeland...even in the most impoverished of our inner cities. The wealth in these countries is flaunted in the cars they drive, the robes they wear, the edifices in which they live and the manner in which they so easily dismiss the servants who wait on their every need.

Wise men still seek Him today

And so, it requires very little stretch of thought to understand why the Christ child was born in humble circumstance. Had He been born into high privilege, how difficult it would have been for Him to convince his followers to sell all that they had and follow after Him. His example of giving service to those in need...brothers and sisters all, would surely have fallen on even more deaf ears.

Perhaps no better analogy could describe the Peace which Christ brought to those who would believe and be baptized by water than to equate it to the thirst that is known in the desert.

And so it is with wonder and awe to know that He who was born on a cold, clear night and upon a bed of straw would indeed fulfill the dreams, hopes and prophecies that had been held for so many years by those who will humble themselves to accept His message of peace, forgiveness and perseverance.

In a manger...

In light of the modern day battles which we all must face and fight, it is a blessing to feel the strength from family and friends as we join together in our quest to embrace and preserve that which He taught. It is our hope that all will take this Christmas season to reflect on the rich heritage that has been left to us and that we might endeavor to carry on the noble mission of our fathers in being anxiously engaged in a good cause...as He whose birth we celebrate asked us to do.

RETURN TO INDIA

My quick return trip to Bombay allowed for a more intimate cultural experience than my previous journey. After spending several consecutive 16 hours days in a board room tyring to work out a business relationship, our business partner insisted we take a break and go visit his home town of Cochin...a two hour flight to southern tip of India.

Sweta Mangal, CEO and Shaffi Mather, Chairman of the Board

My colleague and I arrived on a Saturday night and through a combination of airplanes, car taxi, and water taxi we arrived at an eco resort on a lake in what is called "Kerala Backwaters." We took lodging on a unique house boat that once served as a barge on this lake that is five times the size of Utah's Salt Lake. We were quickly ushered into an a/c dining room on board the boat and served traditional Indian Cuisine. Our individual bedrooms were very well appointed, each with their own bathroom and shower. We awoke the next morning to a rocking motion and discovered that we were on a sunrise tour of the Backwaters. There was a very high sense of eco-conservatism which speaks highly of the region. The resort consisted of individual bungalows amid a network of man made canals which supported indigenous wildlife.

Shaffi came to retrieve us on Sunday afternoon to take dinner with his family. It became apparent that spending time in the homes of our hosts was very important. We were greeted at his parents luxurious (by Indian standards) home that evening with brothers, sisters, uncles and children all lined up in a row to greet us as we entered the home. Conversation over the dinner table immediately went to the American elections. While they recognized that Obama was not a friend to global trade, they expressed enthusiasm that the American Dream was alive and well. It was a reminder to me of how people look so favorably toward the U.S. (irrespective of liberal perspective) and the ability for the individual to rise to success on their own merits without constraint of political regimes. A perspective that I silently hoped would continue.

Reluctantly returning to Bombay we continued meetings until Shaffi and I were required to attend a meeting with the government in Delhi. I had heard so many negatives on the Capitol that I was curious to compare. However, I found the city to be more modern and with better traffic flows where you aren't fighting the road obstacles such as cattle, elephants, camels and donkeys that are so often found on the streets of Bombay. This British designed city sports several large parks. One does have to be careful of the ubiquitous monkeys who roam the city streets hoping for a handout from a passing taxi, tuk-tuk or bicyclist.

On the day of my flight back to the States, I grabbed my camera and against concierge advice began a five mile trek through the city surrounding my palatial Hyatt Regency hotel. Less than a hundred yards from the hotel the scene drastically changed. Amid the harried traffic accentuated with continuous use of the obnoxious honking of horns were what we would call slums lining both sides of the street. While it would have been so easy to take photographs to bring these shocking images to the eyes of my few readers, the thought of exposing the abject poverty and destitute conditions in which they live just didn't seem appropriate. The polluted water, people sifting through piles of garbage looking for even the smallest of usable treasures, or huts that made our backyard bunk house look extravagant are a reality to 1.3 billion people. But to capture those images would have exposed their shame that they must surely feel.

Instead, I opted to capture a photo of these three young girls resolutely weaving in and out of traffic on an errand that might net the $2 per day that 80% of India survives on. The young girl on the right has the most captivating smile and it would be easy to picture her as a future model in some fashion magazine...as it is, current conditions say that she will most likely never finish the 3rd grade. But within her smile, one can see an element of hope.

HOPE FOR THOUSANDS OF INDIA'S YOUTH

The hope for hundreds of thousands of Indian youth seemed to be captured in this image that appeared on the side of this highly modern building, which overlooks the meager huts that we would refer to as slums. I can't look at this image without internalizing the message. There are incredible gaps in the social structure of this country. And yet the people talk of opportunities that are on the horizon as they emerge into a more hopeful age.

I have great hope that our pursuit of a business venture in India will create these opportunities and make a real difference in their quality of life...perhaps gaining access to modern health care will be a welcomed dream.

Honoring A Forced March

I admire Kevin Henson. He has taken genealogy to a whole new level. He has made his heritage in the Mormon Battalion come alive by re-tracing (on foot) his great-grandfather's steps when in 1846 he set off with 500 of his fellow men to find their home in a land they had never seen. His is not an exact retracing as much of the trail is on private land or erased over the years...but the 2,000+ miles are real! Kevin is pictured here entering Santa Fe on October 9th where the city welcomed him with an appreciation for what the Mormon Battalion mean for the settling of the American West.


So it is with pride that I attempt to do my small part to honor my progenitor as well. Joseph Skeen, without question and in absolute faith of the outcome, left his wife and young children in the desolate but sacred area we now call Winter Quarters. Few know or appreciate the import of the words from Brigham Young when he stood before the worn and torn Battalion members one year later and said: "I say that these men now before me were saviors of this people and did save them from carnage and death. I bless you now and pray every good being to bless you."

My response to Brigham Young's prayer is to help people understand the sacrifice that was made by these brave men and women and in so doing inspire us to make the small sacrifices that are asked of us today. It is my hope that Battalion--The Musical to be performed in Huntsville next summer will accomplish some small portion of this task. If the audience walks away with a small understanding of the miracles associated with the adventure and a sense of the love that bound these men and women together as they took their journey apart...then mission accomplished. I invite you to mark the 26th or 27th of June for a night of music and drama in historic Huntsville for the outdoor production of the musical.


Colonel Thomas Kane, shown in this statue on the grounds of the Utah State Capitol, is evidence of how the Lord delivers his miracles. He was devoted to the survival and care of the Mormon people as he witnessed their expulsion from Illinois to a point of destruction as 30,000 refugees spread out across today's Iowa and Nebraska plains. In a letter to his father in Philadelphia, he said "It may be my life's work to look after this poor and mistreated people." Manipulating the formation of the Mormon Battalion from President Polk to negotiation of the peace process to avoid destruction at the hands of Johnston's army, it seemed that Thomas Kane was always there for the early Saints.

How different this country and this church would be today if not for the willingness of men to be led by a higher power. The musical production has a special number that I wrote specifically for Col. Kane titled "Is This My Task?" It is a bit of a soliloquy which reflects his internal struggle to understand his role in God's hand.

So next time you think of the near devastation by starvation and freezing weather that might have occurred at Winter Quarters...think of the sacrifice made by 500 men and their wives who had the faith to put their lives and those of their families in the hand of the Lord. There is so much more to their stories...I invite all to gain a new perspective on the challenges we are currently facing with the an appreciation for perseverance of those who have gone before.

PASSAGEWAY TO INDIA

THE map on my seat back screen showed that we were approaching Bombay by way of Afghanistan while beginning our descent of Karachi. I had been invited to speak at a conference on EMS in this country that is essentially without ambulances. With over a billion people, India seems to be constantly suffering from disaster of one type or another. Just prior to my arrival over 1200 people drowned due to storms and flooding in Biha Pradesh (state); the day I left Ahmadabad there was a terrorist bomb detonation with 2 deaths; the day I left India, there were over 2600 people crammed into a Hindu Temple on their Holy day when someone yelled "Bomb"--another 180 people were trampled to death.

But it's always about the children. Their faces express despair, courage, fear and hope...often in sequence. The children shown above were living on the street with their mother. A few minutes later I joined some other children who were playing cricket in a small enclosed area...anxious to see the American take a swing with the bat. I probably displayed the grace of Shrek but the children laughed and so it was worth the brief moment of American humility.

Bombay is conflicted with its new growth. The Hyatt was one of the nicest hotels in which I have stayed...and yet the streets were of dirt, cattle, camels and chaos. What I would call a Brahman type cow is ubiquitous throughout...and very sacred. To strike a cow with your motorized tuk-tuk or auto is to risk the wrath of being stoned by witnesses to the accident. Camels routinely pull cart loads of goods down the street and an occasional elephant will be called into service for the heavier loads. Traffic accepts these age old forms of transportation just as the buggies are tolerated in Pennsylvania.

While networking with the locals, I generally abandon protocol and will ask about their religion. The response almost always creates an opportunity to compare similarities with that of my faith. I met Mr. Basu on the 1st evening of the conference and our conversation led to temples. The more we discussed, the more intrigued he became. We conversed a number of times over the next few days and he was kind enough to bring his wife to the closing reception so that I could meet her. He asked for more information and I will be sending him the Proclamation On The Family along with a book I picked up at Deseret Book today titled: "Mormons and Masons." The dialogue led to my gaining a greater appreciation for some of the tenets of the Hindu beliefs. A few days later Brody Hatch informed me that his friend has just been called to the Bangalore Mission. Yesterday, it was announced that a temple will be built in Rome...how many years until we hear an announcement of a temple in Agra?

I was able to visit Ashram--a shrine that was once home to Mohandas Gandhi. Becoming just a little more familiar with his life's work led to a strengthening of my testimony of the divinity of Jesus Christ. Gandhi was truly a saint...he lived a life of sacrifice coupled with an amazing capacity to forgive. He, more than others brought liberty and dignity to his fellow countrymen without taking up the sword. Even with so many God-like traits, he often found himself in conflict with his beliefs. He never came to know God and so proclaimed that all "Gods" are acceptable. The man from Bethlehem never lost His focus nor doubted that He was the Son of God manifest as perfection. Gandhi, with all of his goodness, still could not attain the perfected life of Jesus to which we all aspire...but oh, how he tried.

The conference was very informative. I had been assigned to speak on how we finance ambulance service in this country (not very well) along with a session on creating teamwork among all of the various stakeholders in the EMS arena. We actually do pretty well with that in this country. In fact, today one of my colleagues announced that we were stepping down from the FEMA deployment for hurricane Ike and Gustav. Between the two storms, we deployed over 1,100 ambulance into the gulf coast region to move nursing home and hospital patients from and back to their respective facilities while responding to the sick and injured from the storms.
The conference was specific to highway accidents where thousands are killed each year in India. Only 2% of persons seriously injured in highway accidents are fortunate enough to have an ambulance show up with a 1st aid trained person on board. In the U.S., 98% of accident victims are transported by ambulance which in urban areas arrive within 8 minutes on 90% of all calls. Fire, police and ambulance personnel all perform highly scripted roles as anywhere from 2 to 4 highly trained paramedics are caring for the patient while enroute to a fully equipped hospital with ER teams standing by. The privileges of living in this country never end...nor to the opportunities to help others.