Christmas is here!

We have a new Ethiopian restaurant in town. It’s owners have a different religion and don’t recognize Christmas. They believe in an historical Jesus but not in the Christ which Christ-mas celebrates. So a passing thought that I had of hiring a table and inviting a few friends there after Christmas Day church service to celebrate together came to nothing.

Christmas is for children. I was reading the other day where someone said Christmas doesn’t mean much to the writer any more since the kids left and ‘it’ is really for kids. Really? Do you want to talk to your kids about virgin births? Do you want to discuss with them the concept of the Infinite God causing a young virgin to have a child, so that, He can become the perfect sacrifice for the sins of the whole world? Do you think they will be unable to understand the concept of the Incarnation?

And, at any rate, as a society, we’ve gone beyond believing those mythological concepts and it really is just a good excuse for a holiday. Besides if we allow carols and manger scenes, we might offend someone else of a different religion. Isn’t the aim of tolerance to make it so that I must not present my way as the truth. Since, all our opinions are of equal value and we must seek to avoid issues which cause contention?

Well, speaking for myself, I believe that the birth of Jesus, His Incarnation, is a keystone in history! When we acknowledge that history is a record of HIS-story. It is a time for kids and present giving – because God gave the first big present – His son to live among us. Here is something that even the youngest is able to learn – To say ‘Thankyou!” Also, there are things that stretch the wisest and most informed minds as we wrestle with the ‘reality’ of a world, of which, we can not see all. I love the carols, the Bible Readings, the celebration, the Joy. From my point of view ‘bring it on’ – I know that I need to hear the story again, kids need to hear the story frequently and the world definitely needs to hear the story. If we want to give up anything about Christmas, try replacing commercialization with the real story of that night and, in its place, centre on the baby. The real centre of Christmas who is being drowned out by the ‘hoo-haa’. The ‘hoo-haa’ which is meant to be an acceptable substitute for the real cause that there is in the season for us to celebrate.

May you have a MERRY CHRISTMAS AND GREAT NEW YEAR!

Dominic Cartier.

Guilt – real or unreal?

I get email and posts which seem to stress that I ought to feel guilty about all sorts of things. I ought to feel guilty because of my racism; I ought to feel guilty because Australia doesn’t do enough for displaced people; I ought to feel guilty for my part in climate change; I ought to feel guilty because of ?????? And so it goes on. And many of them indicate clearly how I can give my money to them and they will make it good!

Well, I’m sorry I refuse to wear it. Have I lived the perfect life? The answer is obvious and I don’t deny it – I have fallen far short of perfection. But it seems to me that trying to pile straw (guilt) on the camel’s back (mine) will break it. I must live straight in the present and into what future remains to me.

I cannot be blamed nor do I need to feel guilty for what my forebears, close or distant, have done in the past. I refuse to accept others’ rubbish dumped onto the front yard of my life. I cannot be blamed for wrong decisions made by others whose responsibility it was to deal with that/those situations. I cannot go back and undo one thing that I have messed up in the past. Sure I can deal with honesty and integrity with the end results of my actions but a word spoken cannot be unspoken; a deed done cannot be undid!

If there is no God (before whom I may well have responsibilities and guilt) I cannot see how I can feel guilty before a vague concept of evolution, or before a political ideal most (all) of which seem corrupt in themselves. If there is a God then I should see if He has anything to say about the responsibility/guilt/forgiveness/what-next issues. And if there is a real ‘God’ then I cannot redraw Him to suit my personal wants. If there is no God, then finding a standard by which to self-judge or condemn others is difficult. Do I do what seems right in my own eyes and then be faced with the dilemma – should I expect others to agree with what I’ve decided? – or does everyone have the right to judge right-wrong issues for themselves? Can I ‘pass the buck’ and blindly obey those who are ‘in power’ to make the rules? Can those rules then be changed, and if so are there any rules for making changes?

I’m one of the lucky ones. I believe in the God of the Bible and God therein makes amazing and gracious deals on our behalf. I can confess (but no pulling the wool over God’s eyes) and be forgiven and then be given the instructions of what to do. God does not forgive you to free you just to do what you want to do. There are instructions as to how to live. Not that it makes everything easy to either understand or do. Important are – stewardship for the earth on which we live; treating our fellow beings in the way we want to be treated ourselves; fair dealing in business; the need to steer clear of the many ways that people and businesses try to lead us into shonky deals.

And none of us can solve or even be involved in all the problem areas. Taxation needs to be equitable, without all the loopholes now available to be bought. To honestly paint the whole picture causing the various problems and not to just highlight (often the fashionable) one of many issues involved. We will have to be prepared to lower our personal expectations concerning wages, pensions, living standards if we want to raise the standards of the poor and of the developing world. I can’t tour around the world, talking about the main cause of climate change being man-made problems, in a private luxury jet, staying at top hotels, being paid a CEO wage and not expect to be quizzed on my life style. I think you can see where I’m heading, express an opinion if you desire.

Merry Christmas, Dominic Cartier

What’s cooking?

Some of you older ones will remember the coupons which allowed your family to buy food during and after World War II. I was still pretty young (5) when the war ended so I don’t remember all the details but if you had a slice of bread it often had fat (lard) from the cooking plus some salt and pepper; you could have butter or jam but not both on your bread; special desert was a jam tart which you were allowed to help your mother cook.

(If you note a lot of spelling mistakes it is because my dog is insisting on putting her paws on my shoulder and licking my ear!)

Back to cooking. I remember when we got a coupon allowing us to get some rice – for instance. Basically we ate a very plain meat, potatoes and vegetable diet with very occasional desert. Somehow at Christmas they seemed to go overboard with lots of lonely old people from around the district and a plethora of delicious food.

Then as a medical student I went into National Service. We weren’t allowed to join the medical corps and I was a cook. So I can tell you that maggots float to the top when meat is boiled and scooped off and there is still good meat to serve the troops – while you (the cook) opened a tin of preserved fruit for yourself. It was good training as my wife doesn’t like cooking much.

So then I went to India where the food was so spicy I wondered why they didn’t just serve up the coals. I got used to it but I remember going to a wedding where the food was so spicy that hardly anyone ate much. I asked why for a wedding it was made so spicy and was told that it allowed them to invite lots of guests. I lost about 20 kilos in my 6 month stay in India.

On arriving in Ethiopia they use different spices. In India spices were hot in the mouth; in Ethiopia they were hot both ends – entering and leaving. Graciously the people who knew us toned it down for we foreigners. But it did give me a taste for more than what we had as kids.

Coming up to date, I want to give you a marinade sauce recipe. I sold some land to a neighbour who still owes me money (they are very faithful in their payments) but who kill their own pigs and cattle and sheep. They send us gifts sometimes. We are very thankful for it but it really isn’t quite as tender as you buy in the shop – but as a gift much cheaper!

So I’ll share with you my mixture to make it more tender and which still reminds me of some of my Indio-Ethiopian past. I know you’re supposed to measure everything exactly but I excuse myself by saying I do it to taste. So what you’re getting is approximate.

2 tablespoons of olive oil
2 teaspoons of lemon juice
1/2 teaspoon of English mustard powder.
about 3/4 cup of tomato paste
2 overflowing tablespoons of honey or brown sugar
2-3 dessert spoons of Worcestershire sauce
2-3 dessert spoons of ABC thich sweet soy sauce
3 teaspoons of hot spicy SRIRACHA hot spicy chili sauce
salt and pepper to taste.

I mix it all up and if the meat is suitable (eg chops) marinate in the fridge for some hours. Then cook the meat in it. If I think the meat is going to be very tough I use a slow cooker and boil up my mixture separately and use it as a gravy/sauce.

None of us have died; one likes me to limit the tomato paste a bit, but they keep coming back for it!

You might like it spicier, then add some ground chilli – which I tend to do if we have Ethiopian visitors.

Dominic Cartier

Under the Thumb.

It may be almost illegal these days to say that about a husband-wife relationship! Particularly if you are the male speaking! There I go, being provocative again. But I’m not talking about a person but about a load of work.

Some years ago I self published a book – a sort of autobiography come medical journey of mine. It sold out and is 10 years out of date at any rate. Then a few years ago I wrote a book, probably better called a booklet, for my students as they began their clinical surgical courses. It was relevant to their situation with lack of facilities and language difficulties. Their ability to read thick tomes was limited, so I tried to put the very relevant stuff in a compressed form. As I meet a new era of Western students sold on investigations, before physical examinations, I’m convinced that it may be of use to them also.

I’m pretty dumb, computer wise, but my eldest son, who lives on our farm and runs it and who runs me is a wizard. He wants to reproduce them and also shortly after them another pictorial cum anecdotal short book of our lives. So at the moment the thumb of pressure to get it done on time is hard on me! Publication date for the first two is set for November 27. Between now and then we have a granddaughter’s wedding to attend about 1,500Km away, and a sheep shed to get built, so the pressure is on, the thumb is pressing down.

My first book was called ‘Have Scalpel – Will Travel’, and the new edition will have the same name but with ‘Revised and Updated’ added. The other will be ‘Medical Diagnosis – a Surgical Approach.’ I’m slowly labouring through the third one – as yet unnamed.

The introduction to the first book was and will remain as follows: –

They cut off the tip of his ear.
Yes he was a thief and this was the custom.
He was naked and caught stealing clothes left out by the river to dry.
He could see no-one but they saw him!
He was tightly bound with his hands behind his back and taken to court.
Eventually he was brought to the hospital.
One arm was already gangrenous. It had to be amputated.
The other – the nerve supply had been cut off by the pressure of the binding and the arm was paralysed, probably forever.

How did he feed himself?
How? He had his food put on the cupboard by the bed – but there was no one to feed him.
He had to feed himself.
So he got up like a dog on his knees and elbows.
He ate like a dog.
My heart was touched and so each day I stayed back at lunch time and fed him myself.
What became of him? I don’t know.
But to God he is a person – to the others he was just a thief.

One night I sat in the common room of Addis Ababa HQ of SIM – the mission with which I was associated. I had just come up from Soddo on business and had left behind this one who deeply disturbed me. People were singing that beautiful old hymn ‘Peace, perfect peace when all around….’ Yet I was not totally at peace. Sitting in that common room I was not totally at peace. Was I doing all that could and should be done in these circumstances? Certainly the future my young thief saw ahead had no pension, no physiotherapy, and no social support.

Am I my brother’s keeper?

Maybe more later. Watch this space!

?Dominic Cartier