Finian's Rainbow

I don't know what made me think of him.

When I was sick and working from home the other day, I thought of SL. I knew him for about 7 of of the 8 years I worked at CARE. We travelled together in Kenya. Partied together in Ottawa. He might have visited me in Australia. We even slept in the same bed one night.

Over the years, we've kind of lost touch.

Where aid workers are concerned, SL is the elite. You'll find him wherever the world is going to hell in a handcart. His specialty is complex emergencies.

After the genocide in Rwanda, SL was among a group of CARE aid workers sent to find the refugees. Yes, find them. Hundreds of thousands of people were lost in the Rwandan forests for days after the killing began. They were too scared and scarred to come out. When they emerged, SL was there to meet them at the border of Burundi.

He's lived in the Somali refugee camps of Northern Kenya, dodged bullets in Liberia, and reconstructed tsunami-ravaged villages in Bandah Acheh.

He's seen things I don't even like to think about.

We lost touch over the years, but I'd heard he was living in London. Maybe that's what made me think of him. I was preparing the presentation I'm giving in London in a few weeks.

So I googled him...and I found him. Not only that, he immediately returned my message with one of his own.

He's still doing what he does, but he's also getting his PhD in war history at the same time. Another of life's tortured over-achievers.

He's invited me to his South London home when I get in on Sunday. We'll catch up, and I'll get a chance to meet his four month old son, Finian.

The news about Finian just blew me away.

SL doesn't come by happiness easily. I guess you wouldn't in his line of work. But babies are, by their nature, a sign of eternal optimism.

Maybe there's hope for SL yet. I guess I'll see.