Two contrastive images that appeared in the State of Jharkand in the Central India are cow dung and coal carriers.

Cow dung being dried.

On the one hand, we can often encounter the laborious movement of many people who drag bicycles with overloaded coal and hear overwhelming noise from huge TATA trucks overloaded with coal. The abundant natural and mineral resources in the State of Jharkand have brought about many industries in the state, but, paradoxically, this richness has resulted in the displacement and dispossession of land and culture of many indigenous people. The poverty was imposed by a denial of human rights of these people.

Coal-carrying trucks from the mines.

So, it is contradictory that the state of Jharkand, one of the richest states in terms of the natural and mineral resources, becomes one of the poorest in terms of the livelihood of people.

The fact that natural resources are concentrated in places where poor and indigenous people live gives a painful clue to imagine how these people and the natural environment are treated so far by the blindness of human greed, not only in India but also in our world.

Although these resources are entirely gifts of God for every being, the inordinate attachment of mining companies and governments to money and power, blinded their hearts to the plight of the people. These companies and governments disregarded those people whose identities are connected with land and destroyed their inherited and preserved lands, forests, water, and the air upon which people and all creatures are dependent. I suppose that the above two images from this reality seem to portray Two Standards (136) in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius: Lucifer's standard leading people to all vices through riches, honor, and pride and Jesus' standard to all virtues through poverty, contempt, and humility.

The awareness of this reality of Two Standards and the desire of being grounded in the perspectives of the

oppressed enabled 36 Jesuits and collaborators from Africa-Madagascar, Asia-Pacific and South-Asia conferences and Social Justice Secretariat to gather together for the international advocacy workshop. We learned about the experiences of advocating people in their struggle and reflected on our understanding of Governance of Natural and Mineral Resources (GNMR) and its impact on the vulnerable people and environment, our strengths and weaknesses in advocacy works, and our needs for the future.

Given the urgency and nature of interconnectedness of GNMR with environment, justice, and peace, we discerned concrete ways to enhance our way of advocacy work through collaborating and networking in intra-conference levels.

What struck me most during the workshop was the simple fact that the advocacy begins with feeling the pain of people in reality. So, the highlight for me was to witness the reality through the field trip led by Tony Herbert SJ from Hazaribagh Province, a missionary from Australia. Tony took us to places where mining affected the villages and lives of many indigenous communities. When we moved along the mining area, I became speechless, to my shock.

Pipal sacred tree, scooped out, standing alone

A tall Pipal tree believed to be sacred for Indians, was scooped out and remained alone disconnected with surroundings. The gradual death of this tree was clear to anyone's eye. The tree amidst reality seemed to represent very sadly the reality of the tribal peoples who are dispossessed of their ancestral lands by the ethnocide of indigenous communities and cultures.

Moreover, when we reached one barren place near one of the coalfields, Tony told us that only one month ago, there were houses in that place. What I saw there were uprooted and fallen trees, one left shoe and a schoolbag, smashed bricks, and a huge drilling machine. For some reason, I began to imagine people's laughter, cheerful sounds of children's playing, the smell of a mother's cooking, and a hungry stomach of a baby, etc.

However, all were gone! Where are they? Who took away all the life from here?

A poignant and deep sadness penetrated my heart and tears gathered my eyes. I sensed the screams of the people and the crying of the land, trees, water, and all creatures echoing from the ruins of the destroyed village. As if I were Mary Magdalene before the empty tomb (Jn 20:11), I felt like remaining there with a deep sense of powerlessness.

Then, we were brought to one village where the displaced tribal peoples from that area live and we were welcomed to one house. We listened to their difficulties and asked whether they find any positive things after having lived in this new place. With a sad smile, they said that they found nothing except electricity.

Uprooted and fallen tree in the coalfield

I cannot imagine how painful and vulnerable they are in coping with their unspoken sense of deprivation and loss of their culture and identity, unexpressed resentment, and probable anxiety. Although they find no positive things in their forced reality, what I felt humbling was their genuine hospitality out of the incredible richness of their humanity.

This richness of the impoverished people was manifested in their ongoing struggles of life. I cannot forget a group of tribal peoples from Netarhat who shared their stories of struggle with us. What happened was that the Indian Army came to exploit the land of more than 200,000 tribal peoples from 245 villages as a place for firing exercise at the expense of these people. As a result of this outrageous infringement of the rights of tribal people for almost 30 years, several people including girls were killed.

At last, out of long suffering, in 1993, people started to make a protest against the forced displacement as a united community. The huge crowd of 5,000 women and men sat together to resist the military forces who were armed with weapons and trucks. Although they were beaten and threatened, they were not crushed by fear. Women were often in the frontlines to fight back in a non-violent way against this army force. The army could not oppress the spirit of solidarity of these suffered but invincible people. Rather, these people radiated their sacred dignities through sharing the spirit of trust and courage in transforming the evil standards of the powerful.

When again in 2004 the army came back, the communities sat together on the road and prevented them from

entering the firing place. But their struggles have no end because bauxite mining companies were threatening the livelihood of these people and the affected people and creatures are groaning with continuous pain. It was very hard for me not to make a deep sigh. Nevertheless, I was greatly encouraged by the incredible Spirit in their hearts. While they were telling their stories their faces were glowing, revealing the vivid presence of Christ who sat together with them. I wish I could be baptized with their spirit of courage and trust through sitting there together!

Throughout the workshop, one question occurred to me from the depth of my heart: Do I really want to be with the poor? I was grateful that peoples in reality rekindled a flame in my heart. But then, how can I allow this flame to burn continuously? How can I let the spirit of the Paschal mystery speak to my core of being? What I can confess is that these small, displaced, wounded yet spirited people and creatures awakened me to a deeper realization of the utter preciousness and sacredness of the weak and the marginalized. In order to let this truth permeate my life, and hopefully, to become ‘a fire that kindles other fires', all I need to do would be to ruminate on a word of Fr. Adolfo Nicolas, the Superior General: ‘If the Society loses the umbilical cord with the small people, the Society will lose its identity.'

A slipper left behind in what was a village before, now a coalfield

As long as we choose to remain connected to ‘the ultimate source of the fire' that we have experienced through the small people, our shared sense of powerlessness would enable us to see a ray of light from the empty tombs of this world. To reflect this light together, we are invited to choose a fuel for the fire in our hearts which will shape our way of living and affect the small people and other beings. So, which one would we like to choose: the spirit and wisdom of appreciating the intrinsic value and origin of ‘cow dung' or the spirit and skills of treating ‘others'- people and nature - as means for the few?

Jinhyuk Park, SJ is a Korean Jesuit in formation. As part of his formation, he was sent to work in Cambodia from 2005 to 2007. He is now studying theology in Melbourne and will be finishing by November. During this time, Jinhyuk had the chance to attend the advocacy workshop on Governance of Natural and Mineral Resources in Ranchi, India last February 2010. He was ordained last 30 June 2010 and hopes to return to Cambodia after finishing his studies.