When the aeroplane began to taxi on the runway deep in the night in Bangkok before lifting off from the ground and beginning the flight that was going to take me back to Rome, I was gripped by a feeling of concern – a mixture of regret about what was coming to an end, emotions because of the discoveries I had made and above all because of the fraternal meetings that I had had, and perturbation because of the provocations I had encountered observing how the Camillians care for the sick, the poor and in many cases the discarded people that they – literally – collect on the sides of the shining roads of Bangkok and its surrounding areas or of Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon).

My journey was not just any other trip, a touristic visit I mean. My journey in Thailand and Vietnam, which was carried out thanks to the warm welcome, the patience and the readiness to help of my Camillian religious brothers, I would define as a privileged walk in a world that is changing at a dizzy speed, a world in which prosperity (residences worthy of a prince and boutiques worthy of the best shopping streets of Paris, New York or London), consumerism (luxurious German saloons or Italian sports cars) and illusory attractions (hordes of tourists looking for strong adventures) do not, however, manage to conceal the pain and the suffering of man, of large parts of humanity.

I am talking about the marginalisation to which those who do not know how to follow, or cannot follow, the advance of progress are condemned: men and women struck down in their flesh by leprosy which brings with it a very heavy social stigma, as we are reminded by the gospel meetings of Jesus with these people; young men and women infected by HIV and reduced to shrivelled skin that covers fleshless bones; handicapped children or children with HIV who are rejected by their own families or who are the orphans of parents killed by the same disease; children undergoing cancer treatment who would otherwise, during their chemo-therapy, be obliged to be with their parents on some pavement, ‘perhaps’ awaiting the next round of treatment; and elderly people supported in the drama of their old age, loneliness or dementia.

But fortunately enough my journey was also one of hope. This is because Camillian religious, who are determined and courageous, make themselves the bearers of this specific gift of God, as do volunteers, the lay people who work with us, and young Camillian religious receiving formation, all of whom are able to ‘see and not pass by on the other side’ when it comes to this wounded humanity, and this in order to reaffirm not theoretically but realistically, every day, the inalienable dignity of that man, that women or that child!

Certainly, we know that everything that glistens is not gold; we also know that straw has the same colour as gold but does not have the same value! During this journey I had the grace to see some ‘slivers of gold’ which I keep with great affection in my memory in order to nourish a sense of gratitude towards the very many religious brothers of mine who have established the spiritual and charismatic bases for such a flowering, and in order to nourish esteem and gratitude for the role in the present of the new Camillian generations and hope in the future!

FEEE MEN  

(thai (ไทย), adjective that means ‘free’)

Small travelling companions,

In silence and without knowing each other

We held each other’s hands.

Behind you, you left

Your huts made of sun and songs;

I left behind me fears.

The baskets on the heads of your mothers,

The malaria in the eyes of your fathers,

Their bodies on the ground,

May they remain for a long time

In your eyes and your hearts.

The cold and the wind matter little,

If, still holding hands,

We reach the end of the pathway.

Fear will go away,

And in your large black eyes

A dream will still live:

To be free men.

Fr. Gianni Dalla Rizza

(A Camillian in Thailand)