Recently I wrote to a Church leader who was about to retire from office as there was a serious issue I had to raise with him. At the end of the letter I suggested that all those who were given leadership roles should in retirement (before if possible), take time to reflect on the issues he/she dealt with and the decisions made, while in office. Such a reflection might include: were they right or wrong; as well as decisions that should have been made and weren't. He did not appreciate my suggestions.

It's time for me to do as I suggested to him: evaluate my life. This lonely Camino has provided time, space, and opportunity to do it and it has not been at all easy.

The loneliness has indeed been a gift!

The loneliness comes in many ways…. There is the most obvious: the loneliness of the journey. I have met only a few people along the way, and those I have are mostly local folk, who understandably speak French, a language I do not speak. What little I once spoke seems to have disappeared and I find myself inexplicably responding in the only other foreign language I speak, Japanese, much to the confusion of those with whom I am trying to engage.

Leaving my personal reflections aside for the moment, this journey has given me a deep insight into the reality of the life of a little girl named Wilai (a nick name that means "perfectly beautiful") and the thousands like her. Born to stateless parents in a country (Thailand) that will not confer citizenship, despite being born in a Thai hospital, Wilai is not recognised by the country of her parents' origin - Burma (Myanmar) either. She (like her parents) is stateless, which means she doesn't belong anywhere.

Oral history suggests that Wilai's mother was murdered and subsequently her father left Wilai and her brother at a temple in rural Thailand; and then hanged himself, leaving Wilai and her brother orphaned. The Abbott of the Temple allowed Wilai and her brother to remain at the Temple.

Wilai worked as a tour guide at a Buddhist Temple, where her father had left her (and brother), prior to committing suicide. Her brother, being male was welcomed as a monk, however Wilai, as a female was not legally allowed to stay at the Temple, so she lived "around" it.

First contact with Wilai- she was found to be dirty, infested with lice, barefoot and appeared to have never had a bath. Wilai spent her time guiding tourists through the underground caves, beneath the Temple. The caves are isolated, dark in places, and not safe. Wilai was constantly at risk, with nobody looking out for her safety. Wilai adapted to her environment, using her characteristic resilience; and learned how to pose for photos and garnish money from tourists, which was then used by the Temple.

Despite the large income that Wilai generated for the Temple, she was deprived of: anywhere to wash (other than a hand basin in the tourist's toilet area); toiletries; clean clothes; education; someone to care for her wellbeing and safety, and left for many hours of the day and night, vulnerable and alone in the carpark.

Wilai was not afforded privacy: she dressed and slept on the tiled floor of a glass doored office, fully exposed to the car park. There was a leaky fridge that had caused the material in her pillow to disintegrate and grow mould; a rubbish skip outside the window; animal faeces from the many cats and dogs roaming around; and the blanket was flea infested.

Talk about loneliness.

What hope, what future for this girl and those who are in a similar situation?

Wilai is now, (thanks to our intervention), temporarily in a state-run orphanage with a population of 500 girls. All of them, all 499 go to school off campus each day, but not Wilai. She has no ID- and therefore does not enjoy the right to freedom of movement. Imagine the isolation she experiences in the very community in which she lives - she is different and all those 499 know this. It's not even akin to a life in limbo- at least according to the old theology of this place, those living there are happy, because they know no other reality - not so for Wilai- she sees the reality of her situation every day she gets out bed!

Wilai still faces a dark future without substantial intervention.

Caritas Australia one of the large Overseas Aid Agencies of Australia is currently highlighting some of the major disaster areas of the world such as Bangladesh and the extreme suffering, cruelty and deprivation of peoples in Yemen, and the Rohingya in Burma. These issues and these peoples demand our compassion and generosity. However, we are challenged as to which cause is most worthy for us to give our time, support and money to; along with the aching knowledge that we are unable to help all those caught up in the modern tsunami of needs.

Sometimes a focus on a small, but compelling case, can help put us in direct relationship with someone in real need and at the same time open our understanding and the possibility of expanding our support and care to others.

For me Wilai is such a case.

During my time working with InterAid (a Maryknoll international Aid Agency), based in Hong Kong and as Director of the Marist Mission Centre (our own International Aid agency) one of the foci was working to support Congregations caring for people who were living with physical or mental disabilities, in such countries as Vietnam, Cambodia and Burma.

I well remember visiting such a home in central Mandalay, Myanmar. The sister who showed me around wore a habit, clean and pressed, but threadbare. She took me into a small, simple, earthen building, that had three or four beds. In one bed was a girl of about 13, with a severe case of cerebral palsy, her immediate reaction was to convulse with delight- a visitor! I forget how long we stayed, however I have never forgotten her or the care the sister gave. (Two years later I went to the same home, the same sister took me to visit the girl- once more her smile lit up the dark cabin- did she remember me? Probably not, however, I would like to think so.)

I think of her as I do of Wilai as I trudge along the way.

"Vulnerability" and "loneliness" are the words that keeps surfacing in my thoughts. Both young girls experience loneliness: one as she lies for long hours in her bed incapable of self-care, but assured of the care of the sisters; the other the loneliness of no one to care for her or to love her. One protected and safe in her bed, the other able to move about but at great risk to her safety and person. She is in fact a non-person in a place where her disappearance would go unnoticed and of no concern. There are many like Wilai who are ruthlessly, (for huge profit), dragged into the international web of sexual slavery. Who will speak and act for Wilai and her friends?

Returning to loneliness…. It is something I have experienced on this Camino way as never before; the companionship I experienced on the Spanish Camino not there. Today, I greeted no more than four fellow pilgrims and now I sit here in the house where I will stay tonight with no other guest in residence.

The spiritual silence has been a challenge and a blessing!

So, it makes me appreciate the human encounters and relationships we have, as a result of the identity we have acquired through our birth and nation.

Not so for Wilai.

My loneliness is passing. In 10 days I will be making my way to a Marist house near Lyon, for an extended retreat - to be welcomed by fellow Marists. Later to visit, (probably for the last time), Marists living in Europe and with whom I worked in Japan. Then back to Australia, where I still call home, but not expecting to be welcomed at the airport by Mr Dutton or Mr Turnbull.

And Wilai? Where will she be? What will be her future? That's why I am walking to St Jean Pied de Port.

With gratitude for your support

Jim

*If you would like to walk with me the rest of the way and support Wilai, please visit: www.walkforwilai.com.au and sponsor me and/or make a donation.