It's the time of the year when

the countryside is transformed from this

by men like these

to the green and beautiful place we know as Bangladesh.

At my door today

I didn't know until today, but Chappo, like Bimol, had arrived yesterday afternoon. They both come from 'my' village and are neighbours, but they had not travelled together. They both wanted to see a doctor and came via the only person they know at LAMB - me.
Bimol stayed at my house and we spent the evening together talking about his family and my recent visit there with friends from Denmark. He shared about his concern for his children; their education and the engagement of his oldest daughter. We talked out and he went to bed while I was still preparing today's lessons at my laptop.
Chappo stayed on the veranda in front of the under-fives clinic. Because she is a woman she couldn't have stayed at my house anyway so perhaps it didn't matter that I hadn't seen her. We couldn't have talked much anyway; her village Bangla is a challenge, to say the least, for me to understand.
Chappo has come almost every month for several years now. She has a chronic illness that requires her to take medicine every day. A former missionary pays for her medicine and travel every month. (400-500 Taka; GB£ 4-5, US$ 6-7 or DKr 30-40) This has made a tremendous difference in her life. The first time she came, Chappo looked much older than her 50 or so years.
Bimol didn't stay for lunch as his back pain didn't require much other than pain killers and the compulsory worm medicine we seem to give all patients at LAMB - I don't think they are related. He wanted to get home as soon as possible.
Chappo came to the school to find me after she had seen a medical assistant. There was something not quite right with her heart sound and a senior doctor had been called upon to see her. Chappo understood as little or less about what the medical assistant had said as I did of her Bangla; she did understand enough to be afraid.
I was able to find a staff member in the out patient department who made sure Chappo got seen and reassured her as best he could.
The doctor took Chappo off of the medicine that so changed her life after her first visit to LAMB; perhaps the abnormality of the heart rhythm is a side effect of the medicine. Before she left on her four-hour return journey, Chappo came to the school and thanked me for the help I had given her over the years - her gratitude is hereby passed on to the former missionary who has paid for the treatment.
She didn't need my advice, she just needed someone to listen to her fear and encourage her hope in God. Then she left on her own.
Chappo is facing the realities of death - please pray for her. I know there are millions like her, but Chappo was the one who came to my door today.

Thank you Md Ahmed

After almost two years under a caretaker government led by Md Fakhrudin Ahmed Bangladesh today has a democratically elected parliament. The enormity of the achievement is hard to overstate. There is a world of difference between what would have been and the democratic elections that took place on 29 December 2008. Md Ahmed and his team of advisors have diligently worked to bring to justice the corrupt and to ensure free and fair elections for a country so proud of the freedom it gained in 1971.
I don't think any two year period in the history of Bangladesh has done more for democracy and freedom; many corrupt politicians have been brought to court; unjust systems have been changed; transparency in politics has been improved; new voters previously excluded because of cast or creed have been allowed to vote and today a democratically elected government was sworn in.
All of these changes have been accomplished by the diligent work and uncompromising effort of the Chief Advisor and his caretaker government since 11 January 2007. It has been possible only because Md Ahmed had the support of the armed forces and of the grate majority of people in Bangladesh.
There is reason for praise, there is reason for hope.
Thank God for Md Ahmed and pray for the newly elected Government.

Eid Mubarak

Eid greetings from Bangladesh. Tomorrow is the second most important - or perhaps it is just the second most celebrated - Muslim festival of the year; Qurbani Eid. The day is celebrated in commemoration of Abraham's willingness to sacrifice his son, and that God sent a ram in the son's place.

In the market just outside LAMB all are in a 'festive mood' the papers will say tomorrow. And it is true. It is evident in the bustle around LAMB that people are happy. Families are together again and that is good.

Tomorrow the celebration will including sacrificing a goat or a cow. For those who can't afford one there is no condemnation. You can share up to seven people to one animal, and for those who are really poor there is the share that comes from the tradition that the sacrifice is divided into three parts; one for the host, one for neighbours and friends and the last one for the poor.

This year Qurbani Eid falls in the week after final exams in schools all over the country. The school year here is from January to December. So many will be relieved that the exams are over and, like Abraham, that they passed the test. For the students there is the hope that they will reach the next level. Be 'promoted' from grade four to grade five and more tests. For Abraham that he will be promoted to the ranks of the righteous.

The man in the middle here is selling perfume; it is special perfume produced without alcohol. He explained to me that it is sold only on this night and that we need to smell better on Eid. As a true Bangladeshi, hospitable to the core, this was followed to an invitation for tomorrow.

I find myself praising God that the Test is complete, that we celebrate the Substitute who took our place. The righteous Abraham is worth remembering and it is worth modelling our lives after his obedience. But there is so much evil in me, in us, in the world that without someone to take our place there would just be another test after this one and promotion from grade five to six next year or worse still; failure.

Praise God this is one exam we don't have to pass.