Little did I know that in the spring of 2000 when I enrolled in "Preventive Measures: the Politics of Disaster" at Harvard Extension School, my life would take a 180-degree turn. Taking this course and receiving the HELP 2000 scholarship inspired one of the biggest life changing events I have experienced. Through this course and my trip to attend HELP 2000 in Hawai'i, I learned how unique experiences in my life have molded me into the person I am today. I can now understand and appreciate my childhood experiences and also create a new appreciation for my American culture.

Growing up, I learned how to speak colloquial Nepalese while running barefoot with native children. I learned how to climb up coconut trees… to dance Indian dances with graceful arms and seductive eyes…to balance water jugs on my head. I saw a friend's sister die because of an illegal abortion. I witnessed the hanging of our neighborhood dog presumed to be rabid after it turned on a boy. I caught tuberculosis and pneumonia twice. I dined with lepers on mud floors. My childhood was magical and yet at the age of fourteen I had probably seen more diseases and atrocities than most retiring American doctors had seen in their western professional careers. My education was not from the classroom but from daily lessons integrating into and living in exotic countries. No book or lecture could have given me these lessons of life.

Ever since I was four, my "hometown" was somewhere other than the United States. My family lived in Edinburgh, Scotland for a year; two and half years on a small island called Dominica in the Caribbean, and four years in a remote village in Nepal. My parents had the "calling" to go overseas and became medical missionaries. We traveled to some of the toughest places to work and live.

I traveled to India, Ecuador, and the Czech Republic on my own for studies and work. I returned to the U.S. in 1998 determined to adjust to an American life and pursue my studies, and search for my "purpose" in life and career path. I decided to take advantage of the Harvard Extension school and the many other academic opportunities Cambridge has to offer. I had taken multiple courses at Harvard Extension, Lesley College and Cambridge Center for Adult Education. Each and every class I enrolled in was another adventure empowering me to discover my individualism and what professional path I should pursue. The childhood years left indelible experiences and memories that shaped my values and morals and I had already decided a career in public health was my calling. Then I came upon the perfect fit: Preventive Measures: the Politics of Disaster.

The first day of Drs. Doug and Joe Bond's Preventive Measures class was like all other academic classes— an introduction to the class covering the nuts and bolts of the syllabus. However, I was not expecting to hear about the biggest surprise: one person from the class would be awarded a scholarship to attend HELP (Health Emergencies in Large Populations/Health Ethics in Large Populations) 2000.

The HELP course is a three-week graduate level course* for public health professionals. Held in Hawai'i in the summer for the past five years and several times each year around the world, it was developed by the International Committee of the Red Cross. It is one tool the Center of Excellence uses to bring military and various civilian organizations together to discuss and problem solve various health and safety issues in emergency situations while dealing with refugees or internally displaced populations.

For the Preventive Measures class, four Center of Excellence staff members flew out from Honolulu to lecture at our class at Harvard. Dr. Fredrick Burkle, a surgeon and one of the founders of the Center; Dr. Tom Ditzler, a psychologist for Tripler Army Medical Center specializing in the mental health of international aid workers and refugees; Dr. Joel Selanikio, medical director of the Center's Public Health Unit, seconded from the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC); and Lieutenant Colonel Pat Hastings (Army Medical Corps), acting director of the Center of Excellence, attired in army uniform. She discussed the importance of the military in disaster management and humanitarian aid. Each of these lecturers talked about their distinct roles or representation in the disaster management and humanitarian aid arena. The lectures were captivating and each of our guests was available before and after class to answer our questions and provide email addresses if we desired to contact them in the future.

The other lectures were fascinating as well, the papers were extremely beneficial in piecing together enormous amounts of information, and the labor-intensive books were sometimes difficult to fathom due to the graphic descriptions of these humanitarian emergencies, such as the recent genocide in Rwanda.

In our last class Dr. Hastings came to interview the top ten candidates nominated for the HELP scholarship. It was a brief five-minute interview. Not nearly enough time for all that I had prepared to say, but I stumbled across the words I had outlined so carefully in my head. Before I knew it, we shook hands and I was told to send in the next candidate. I was confident I had blown my chance. At the end of her lecture the scholarship award names were announced. Not just one person was selected, but five. My hard work had paid off.

Altogether thirty people selected to attend this course flew to Hawai'i from all over the world: Tanzania, Kosovo, Rwanda, East Timor, Thailand, and Nigeria to name a few of the countries represented. Most of the participants were doctors, nurses, nutritionists, epidemiologist, midwives and public health officers from the American military, various non-governmental organizations and the UN. There were five tables in the conference room; six people at each table composed of two to three military, two to three NGO representatives, and one each of my fellows from Harvard Extension School. Staring across the table at me were people I had read about in our academic books only a month ago. The numerous acronyms I had labored over to remember suddenly came alive.

One of the imperative aspects of disaster management and humanitarian assistance is clearly defining whom you represent and your exact role. This was also apropos for our small HELP community. Even though everyone remained in civilian clothing, discovering "who we are"…military, NGO, UN, student… became essential to how we interacted with each other. Initially, I felt intimidated by the titles and the expertise that these people brought to the table, but my tablemates were supportive and treated me as their equal. I felt empowered to fully participate in each of our group discussions.

The stories each of these HELP participants brought to the lecture room reminded me of my parents' work overseas. Yet my childhood memories were incomparable. A participant shared with me a time she picked up a peaceful baby only to discover it was dead. One woman told me a story about her jeep being hijacked, her CB radio taken away-the only source of communication to her headquarters-and then thrown in jail for a night. Her colleagues, through negotiations and bribes, rescued her. Another participant witnessed starving refugees slaughter each other with machetes while food trucks moved into the camps. These heath care workers not only witnessed life's brutality, but also risked their own security to benefit the lives of others.

The underlying ideology of the HELP course is to create an environment where military and civilian organizations can join and learn how to work together and apply these skills in the field of disaster management and humanitarian assistance. Unfortunately, these two entities often hold stereotypes of each other, which infringe upon the fortification of these merging groups. For example, one of the NGO representatives who traveled four days from a remote village in East Africa complained the three weeks were a waste of her time. She commented on how much the military "dominated" the class. And if she had known military were present, she never would have come. I was shocked at her vehement remark. Had we not gathered here for a shared and noble vision? Could we not put aside our personal biases for these three weeks?

The Center's staff are pioneers in dissolving the stereotypes that these entities have of each other: "NGO hippies" and the "rigid military." I was surprised that this NGO worker and at least one other NGO participant claimed not to know in advance about the presence of military. Certainly, the Center faced a formidable challenge in bringing these two groups together. It fights against the stereotype that these two groups often cling to, in part because for many years they worked independent of each other and many are adamant to remain separate. This woman's comments were a case in point. Learning how to communicate and keep information open and available to both parties is crucial for an effective and efficient mission in disaster management and humanitarian assistance.

The civilian organizations, especially NGOs, are in effect private businesses, and in order to survive they need disasters. Their eagerness to help at times exacerbates the initial situation. A specific case may help illustrate this issue at hand: when the economic and political disaster occurred in Haiti in the early 1990s, more than seven hundred non-governmental organizations ran to the rescue, yet in Kosovo there were barely seventy. Not only is the aid unevenly distributed globally, but also with seven hundred NGOs moving into a small island such as Haiti, the aid overextends and overlaps. This lack of communication and cooperation leads to unproductive and disorganized assistance in addition to a monetary loss. We move into a small community to build hospitals, deliver stoves, or build bridges. We then pat ourselves on the shoulder and return home. But many of the projects were futile. There was no electricity for the stoves, the bridge was not needed, and there were no doctors or administrators to maintain the hospital. Another example is the fate of many Kosovar children. Boxes of food supplies moved into the camp as children shivered to death. If only an individual had assessed and prioritized the needs, then many children's lives could have been saved.

I had another enlightening experience with an African woman who I had met at the international dorm in which I was staying. About two years ago, I learned about female genital mutilation (FGM). I was shocked at such a practice and confused by this bizarre tradition. An estimated 135 million women and girls around the world have undergone FGM and roughly six thousand girls per day endure FGM. It is widely practiced in more than twenty-eight African countries. I was curious to hear this woman's opinion regarding FGM. She saw FGM to be no different than our western male circumcision, body piercing, or tattooing that teenagers experiment with today. I knew she was a devout Christian and had made the assumption that by being such a devout Christian, she was fortunate to have escaped this tradition. Through our discussion, I discovered that she, in fact, was circumcised. I was shocked. Here is a highly educated woman—a Ph.D. in microbiology and a Master's degree in public health from a Belgian university. There are many forms of FGM; these procedures can be from a small incision to a big operation where a woman has all her external sexual organs removed or sewn together. As a result, women can suffer from numerous health complications. Yet if not performed, a social stigma is attached. But this woman painted FGM as a safe procedure, done at a very young age, and performed for sanitary reasons. The advocators of FGM are the mothers. I did not dare ask my new friend, a mother as well, if the same had been done to her daughter.

As much as I wanted to "prove" her wrong, I could not. I walked away from our conversation trying to have a new appreciation of people's values and tradition. Too often Americans assume they know what is right for other countries and their people. She believed her tradition to be completely acceptable; it is also performed as a matter of survival from being ostracized from the community. Although my opinion was completely different from hers, the key to understanding is acceptance. This situation taught me how important it is to learn and respect other people's cultures before trying to impose changes. I know that it is impossible for either of us to fully comprehend each other's perspective, but we could see eye to eye on other issues.

The HELP course has given me a new appreciation for the U.S. I am glad that I can get up in the morning and run anywhere I wish and not worry about land mines. I can sleep at night with a phone by my bed ready to call 911 even if I think an intruder may be in my house. The HELP course introduced many questions that circled in my mind: what do you do if a thirteen year-old soldier is holding a pistol to your head? If you are driving in a war zone and your driver accidentally hits a man, do you stop to attend the victim or do you keep driving?

I woke up to some harsh realities health care workers face in disaster management and humanitarian assistance. The HELP course has given me a deeper appreciation for the precarious adventures that my parents embarked on fifteen years ago. These indelible experiences have given me insights I might not have had if I had grown up in the less transitory and adventurous circumstances.

The staff at the Center of Excellence and the HELP course participants and faculty have dedicated their lives towards "preventive measures" which aim to insure our global peace. Many of these people have put their lives on the line for the betterment of individual lives while securing the global community. They leave home with little or no notice for a couple days to several months, visiting extremely volatile areas. These people have saved hundreds, if not, thousands or millions of lives. Here in the states, it is so easy to avert our eyes and ignore the tragedies or atrocities men, women and children face daily around the globe, including in our own country. The struggle for "World Peace," once a cliché to my ears, is now a living reality.

Harvard Extension and the Center strive to empower people, whether it be to teach a refugee the importance of using soap to maintain cleanliness or teaching a class such as Preventive Measures: the Politics of Disaster. These two organizations have empowered many lives by rekindling countless dimly burning candles. In gratitude and appreciation for both of these amazing organizations, I hope I can now light other dimly burning candles. As Eleanor Roosevelt so wisely stated, "I would rather light candles than curse the darkness;" her glow has warmed the world. She made her step toward world peace, and I want to make mine.

*Editor's note: Since 1999, the HELP course has been divided into two segments. The first segment, 2 weeks in length, addresses 'health emergencies in large populations' and is known as HELP I. Immediately following HELP I, the second week-long segment, 'health, ethics, law and policy', enjoins those civilian, macro aspects that affect the health and well-being of large populations, and is known as HELP II. Collectively, they are referred to as the HELP course. HELP 2001 takes place 16 July through 3 August in Honolulu