Nshima & Curry

How he became a Patel

The June issue of Khabar magazine has a touching first-person piece called "How I Became a Patel," in which Rick Beltz, a onetime alcoholic, describes how he transformed his life. The turning point, he writes, came a decade ago, when Vipul and Bharti Patel bought the motel in rural North Georgia where he worked as a handyman.

As a Native American who had lived all his life in Toccoa, Georgia, before meeting the Patels, I had very little experience with other cultures. Indeed, my only exposure to other cultures came from my interactions with Hispanics. Other than that, what I knew about worlds outside my North Georgia cocoon came from movies, where foreigners are often portrayed as evil, scheming, greedy characters. To me, people from India were turban-wearing dolts working at the local 7-Eleven. [Link]

That's the impression he had back then, as a non-turban-wearing dolt working at the local motel. The Patels, including Vipul's mother, Gulaben, helped bring him around, saving him from alcoholism, as well as ignorance.

The Patels ... would completely demolish my preconceived notions about Indians and foreigners; but that is the least they would do. Over the years, I would come clean with myself, quit alcohol, start believing in myself, in people, and in life—all because this one family gave me unconditional acceptance and love almost from the time I first met them. [Link]

If everyone did what Sid did

The Hispanic man had just lost his home to a foreclosure. He and his family needed a place to stay. He told the Indian-American motel owner that all he had was 50 bucks. What do you think the motel owner said? (a) "Okay, give me the money. You can stay for one night. One night only!" (b) "Sorry, if you can’t afford my rates, you can’t stay here." (c) "Keep the money. I trust you." (d) "Don’t you have Visa? What about MasterCard?"

If you answered ‘c,’ perhaps you know Siddiqi Hansoti, owner of the El Dorado Motel in Salinas, Calif. As reported on NPR, Hansoti didn’t turn Gus Hernandez away, but made him feel welcome.

"I liked Mr. Hernandez," Hansoti remembers. "I observed his family and [thought he was] a nice man, a soft-speaking guy."

Hernandez didn't want to owe Hansoti money and offered to leave the motel after his family had been there for three weeks. Hansoti said he needed a handyman, and Hernandez could take the job and continue to live in the motel.

Hernandez agreed. He now calls Hansoti both his employer and his friend.

Hernandez says, "When I had money, I had a lot of friends, but when I didn't, Sid was there." [Link]

The El Dorado isn't a classy motel. But its owner is all class.

'Nobody' cares about the elderly

My 2-year-old son, Rahul, is still in diapers, which means that at least once a day, there's some heavy-duty wiping to do. Even when his mother is home from work, he insists that his stay-at-home Dad does the honors. It's his way of rewarding me, I suppose. Since I feed him during the day, taking care of the input, he doesn't want me to miss out on the output.

My 4-year-old daughter, Divya, often shows up to watch the diaper-changing, like a raccoon drawn to a foul smell. She doesn't just watch, of course. She has to offer some commentary, usually in the form of one word: "YUCK!"

Yuck is right. It can be pretty yucky, but all parents have to do it, except the ones who have nannies to handle it for them. I feel sorry for those parents. They'll never have the pleasure of saying to their grown children, "Don't talk to me like that! I used to change your diapers, you know! I used to wipe your butt!"

Nursing assistants who care for the elderly and disabled often have to change diapers too -- and I'm sure it's not a pleasant task. But it's part of their job and they know they're helping people.

Ramesh Ferris continues his heroic journey

Ramesh Ferris, the polio survivor who's hand-cycling across Canada, reached Winnipeg last week and spent a few days here. My family and I were among a small group of people who welcomed him at The Forks, a downtown attraction, after he received a police escort through the city. Those are my two daughters -- 6-year-old Lekha and 4-year-old Divya -- in the picture with Ramesh.

It was a good educational experience for them -- and will continue to be one. Whenever they see the photo, they will ask me about Ramesh and I will tell them his story, how polio paralyzed his legs, but didn't keep him from making a difference in the world, from being a hero.

It was truly a pleasure to meet Ramesh, who is raising money to fight polio and help other survivors, many of whom are not as lucky as him (see my earlier post on Ramesh here). 

In his latest blog entry on the Cycle to Walk website, Ramesh writes about a greeting he received from a family he would have preferred not to meet:

The temperature reached +27 making today the hottest I’ve ever hand-cycled in my life. It’s nice to hear the CB radios are working and truckers are talking to each other about Cycle to Walk. Mid-morning, the team reached the longitudinal centre of Canada - what a great accomplishment that was. I was greeted by my first black fly this morning, and then later in the day I met the entire black fly family, Those blacks flies showed so much excitement at the teams arrival that they swarmed me for the remainder of the day as I hand-cycled. My excitement at meeting the first black fly of the journey has since dissipated. It’s amazing how quickly the scenery has changed from the flat prairies to trees, and rock cuts.

Today I consumed about 10 litres of fluids and felt physically great, which allowed me to comfortably hand-crank132 kms to Falcon Lake. This is the most I’ve ever hand-cycled at one time. I’m so thankful for the enroute team who worked very hard today ensuring that I was eating frequently and replenished my hydration pack often. [Link]

Let's see: he consumed 10 liters and did 132 km. That means his hand-cycle is giving him 13.2 km per liter. Not bad at all.

If you'd like to contribute to Ramesh's effort, you can do so here.

The heroic journey of Ramesh Ferris

Twenty years ago, in the summer of 1988, I drove across America with my friend and future brother-in-law Santosh. We traveled from Delaware to California in about four days, making as few stops as possible. I remember feeling like we had accomplished something, like we had passed some kind of endurance test. It takes a lot of effort, after all, to put your foot on the gas pedal.

Our cross-country trip was a breeze compared to the one Ramesh Ferris is taking. Ramesh, a polio survivor, is hand-cycling across Canada to raise money (and awareness) to fight the disease. He began his 7,200-km journey in Victoria, BC, on April 12 -- the 53rd anniversary of the release of Jonas Salk’s polio vaccine -- and expects to complete it in six months. Accompanied by a support team of about five people, he is trying to cover 400 km every 10 days on his 27-speed hand cycle. That's 40 km a day, using mainly his arms to power his cycle forward. I don't know about you, but after about 10 km, I'd be sticking my thumb out at passing motorists.

I'm not sure if Ramesh is the first polio survivor to hand-cycle across Canada, but he's definitely the first blogging polio survivor to do so.

Yup, it’s truly spring now – I can smell it in the air. It’s a package deal though, complete with all the mucky dirt on the shoulders of the road.  Because of a short rain today I was covered in dirt from my face, head, back, chest, legs and toes.  Add to that all of the chain grease that accumulates on my jersey every day as I cycle, and you can imagine that I was feeling pretty gross by the end of the day.

This morning we reached Obed Summit, which is the highest point on the Yellowhead Highway, 1163.9 m above sea level. I thought it was all downhill after that, but to my surprise, there was steep hill after steep hill for the next few hours. [Link]

Ramesh is going to love it when he gets to the prairies, the flat provinces of Saskatchewan and Manitoba. The only time he'll need to go uphill is when he's climbing out of a pothole.

As I reflect back on today I got extremely dirty cycling down the Yellowhead, but it’s important to remember that the dirt comes off. In our world we have a culture of crawlers: children, teenagers and adults that have had their legs paralyzed for life because they did not receive the polio vaccine that would have protected them for life. In the lives of these crawlers they are almost always dirty, because many of them depend on cut up pieces of tires for their knees, and sandals on their hands to drag them through the streets of where they live. Awareness is important, but it’s donations that will help polio victims around our world walk. It’s donations that will provide those drops of the polio vaccine to children around the world to protect them for life.

This is why I’m cycling to walk.  Please donate or sponsor today. [Link]

He's doing the hard part. With just a few clicks, we can do the easy part.

Veeramuthu Kalimuthu, the 5-foot-5, 150-pound hero

Heroes come in all shapes and sizes, all names and nationalities. Sometimes they're named Jeremy Hernandez, sometimes they're named Glen Pearson, and sometimes they're named Veeramuthu Kalimuthu.

Veeramuthu Kalimuthu -- or Kali – is a mechanic at Columbia University. His recent actions make him a hero in the truest sense of the word. And if not for someone else coming forward to tell his story, the public would never know what he did on March 14.

At around 5 p.m. that day he headed to the downtown No. 1 train at 116th Street in Morningside Heights to go home to Jamaica.

"I heard everybody was screaming, you know, and everybody was running in different direction," Kalimuthu said.

A man had fallen onto the tracks from the opposite platform, all the way on the other side of the station.

"People were getting their cell phones out trying to call the police, somebody's got to help him and then I looked over and I saw the gentlemen Kali jump down, hop over the rails," said witness Ed Dijoseph, who brought Kali's story to CBS 2 HD. [Link]

This is what heroes do. While other people are getting on their cell phones or searching for someone else to help, heroes jump into action, without thinking much about their own safety. "Someone's in trouble -- I gotta help," they say to themselves, showing the same enthusiasm many of us show at work: "Someone's brought donuts -- I gotta eat!"

The millionaire who shops at the thrift store

Can money bring you happiness? Only to a certain extent, I say. Only until your basic needs are met. If you have to walk three miles to work, buying a Honda Civic may make you happy, especially if the boss gives you a parking spot. But after you've driven the Civic for a year, don't think you'd be much happier if you bought an SUV. Sure, you might be happier for the first week or two, but after your friends are done complimenting you, your level of happiness won't be much different than before. It might even be lower, when you realize that to afford all the extra gas you're using, you have to eat Ramen noodles for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

It shouldn't surprise you, then, that some people give all their money away and live a somewhat ascetic lifestyle.

Travel company operator Hal Taussig buys his clothes from thrift shops, resoles his shoes and reads magazines for free at the public library.

The 83-year-old founder of Untours also gives away all of his company's profits to help the poor -- more than $5 million since 1999. He is content to live on Social Security.

Taussig takes a salary of $6,000 a year from his firm, but doesn't keep it. It goes to a foundation that channels his company's profits to worthy causes in the form of low-interest loans. (About seven years ago, the IRS forced him to take a paycheck, he said, because they thought he was trying to avoid paying taxes by working for free.)

If he has money left at the end of the month in his personal bank account, he donates it.

At a time of the year when many people are asked to give to the poor, Taussig provides a model for year-round giving.

''I could live a very rich life on very little money. My life is richer than most rich people's lives,'' he said. ''I can really do something for humanity.'' [Link]

Taussig could afford to have a limousine take him to work every day, but what does he do instead? He rides a bike. So if you happen to see an old man riding a bike, wearing resoled shoes and second-hand clothes, try not to look down on him -- no matter how high your SUV is.

Photo by greenfantasy

Farmer harvests kindness and love

I love stories like this, stories about people helping others in need, without expecting anything in return. It's always good to have friends and neighbors you can rely on and Ron Edwards obviously has some great ones.

The 47-year-old Manitoba farmer had planted more than 300 hectares of wheat, oats and canola in the spring. Then he was diagnosed with cancer and underwent chemotherapy and open lung surgery. He was in no shape to harvest his crops.

Fortunately, more than 20 people — some he barely knew — pitched in to help get the crop off, saving him thousands of dollars in hired help.

"A combine is worth a lot of money. Some of them run $100, $150 an hour. I know some guys worked a day, two days, three days even, and they didn't charge anything at all for their machines," he said.

At one point, he said, he looked out his window and saw six combines working in his fields. [Link]

That's what you get when you combine kindness and selflessness. The farming community is like that -- they're always helping each other, perhaps because they're not caught up in the rat race, not trying so hard to get ahead that they have no time for their friends and neighbors. When was the last time you heard one of them say, "I'm just a farmer, but someday I'd like to be the CFO -- Chief Farming Officer." 

"That was something to see. It was hard not to get emotional when you think of all the people that came out to help," said Edwards, who took out two advertisements in local papers to thank everyone who helped.

"Words can't express how I feel about everybody that helped. It's so amazing. I don't know what to say." [Link]

We're often amazed when we hear of people helping other people, not so amazed when we hear of people robbing other people. Perhaps that's because the newspapers are full of crime stories. Try doing a good deed and see how many reporters come to your door. One or two perhaps -- if your aunt works at the local paper. But commit a terrible crime and the media will swarm to your door like you're dating Jennifer Aniston.

Photo by hedgerowmobile

Remembering a daughter, educating a village

Their daughter, Elizabeth, died in a bicycle accident in 2002 while serving as a Peace Corps volunteer in Zambia. Linda and Gerry Bowers are keeping her memory alive by doing something that would make her very proud: educating underprivileged Zambian girls. The Oregon couple, who are receiving a commendation from the Peace Corps, created a memorial fund for Elizabeth that evolved into the Elizabeth Bowers Zambia Education Fund.

So far, 85 women in grades eight through 12, who call themselves Beth's girls, have received Zambia Education Fund scholarships, which pay for everything from school and exam fees to tutoring. When the fund started, only four girls from the village were going to school.

Then and now, the only school in the village is Lumwana West Basic School, which goes up to grade nine. Students who want to go to high school -- grades 10 through 12 -- must travel to the next town over, Mwinilunga. Scholarships help pay their boarding costs.

Since 2004, about 25 women have continued on to high school with the help of the Education Fund. Three have graduated, including Prudence Masanyinga, who has gone on to study sociology at a government institute. [Link]

Getting an education is a prudent thing to do, as Prudence would say.

"The most rewarding part of this project is how the education of the girls in this village will eventually expand to improve families and society in Zambia," said Karen Chittick, secretary of the nonprofit's board of directors. "You're not just giving a girl an education. They will return to the village as role models for other girls." [Link]

They'll be models for the boys, too -- not the kind with great figures, but the kind who can figure things out.

Heroine of the Week: Anonymous real-estate agent

She's an anonymous real-estate agent in Alameda County, California, and she did something that I find incredible: she set up a job interview for the man who had just raped her. No, this isn't a story of instant forgiveness -- it's a story of courage and ingenuity.

When the 47-year-old woman's alleged assailant showed up at a coffee shop the day after the attack for his job interview, sheriff's deputies took him into custody.

Howard Moore, 24, of San Leandro, was arrested on suspicion of rape, sheriff's Sgt. J.D. Nelson said.

The woman, who works as a real-estate agent, was showing a home in Alameda County to a prospective buyer Aug. 16 when the prospective buyer attacked her, Nelson said. He declined to say where the incident happened because that could identify the victim.[Link]

The alleged rapist probably thought he was quite smart, getting a real-estate agent to show him a house and then raping her. But she turned out to be far smarter than him.

During the attack, the woman started to befriend him "in attempt to gain his trust," Nelson said.

She told him she wasn't going to call the police and would try to help him, Nelson said. She even went as far as to promise to arrange a job interview for a security or bodyguard position for the man the following day, Nelson said.[Link]

I don't know what's more amazing: her courage or his stupidity. Did he really think she was going to set him up for a security or bodyguard position -- after he had choked, raped and robbed her? That's like Michael Vick interviewing for a position with PETA.

Heroes of the Week: Glen Pearson and Jane Roy

In 2001, Glen Pearson and his wife, Jane Roy, adopted an orphaned Sudanese girl named Abuk. Four years later, the London, Ontario, couple discovered that Abuk had a twin sister and a brother. It was a no-brainer for them: They had to reunite the children. After years of effort, Abuk's siblings, 10-year-old Ater and 7-year-old Achen, finally arrived in Canada for a joyful reunion with her.

The three children tore through the house, led by the old pro at this, the small seven-year-old.

"Don't let the cats out. Take your shoes off! This is our room."

Then back outside. "My brother and sister are here!" she shouted to neighbours. [Link]

Look at the smiles on their faces. As a parent, I know how hard it is to get three children to smile in a photo, I know why their mother has to reach forward and do a little tickling.

To Pearson, the Liberal MP for London-North-Centre, the effort to get the children symbolizes the good that can happen in the world.

"It is a story of hope. There are hundreds of thousands of refugees being reunited in Sudan. They are going to communities that need water and help, but they are being reunited. War separated these children. Peace got them back." [Link]

It was more than peace that got them back. It was two people with big hearts. Thanks to them, Abuk will grow up with a brother and sister. She'll have someone to hug, someone to play with, someone to blame when the cats are out.

Jeremy Hernandez, Hero of the Week

Say you saved a busload of children after a bridge collapse and everyone deems you a hero. Even your ex-girlfriends are saying nice things about you. The White House calls and requests a photo op -- they want you to appear in a picture with the president. He'll shake your hand, hug you and praise you. He may even share his favorite Bible verse with you. What would you say?

Jeremy Hernandez said, "Nope." He said 'nope' to the president of America, the "leader of the free world," the most powerful man in the world. He said 'nope' to all the publicity and prestige that comes with meeting the president. He said 'nope' to a photo that he could have shown to his grandchildren, a photo that would have been the envy of at least 29 percent of Americans.

Hernandez said, "Nope," and for that, he's an even bigger hero in my book. If his actions don't warm your heart, the reaction to his heroism surely will.

Within a day, news outlets across the country were repeating the story of the school bus, along with a sad footnote — that Mr. Hernandez had recently been forced to drop out of an automotive repair program because he could not afford the $15,000 tuition.

That has changed. On Saturday, Mr. Hernandez learned that Dunwoody College of Technology had offered him a full scholarship toward a degree in applied science. He has also received offers of help from dozens of strangers across the country, said Molly Schwartz, communications director for Pillsbury United Communities, which employed him as a gym coordinator for one of its summer programs. [Link]

A full scholarship in applied science. Hernandez deserves that and more. You can bet he won't say "nope" to this opportunity.