A few more memorable tidbits...

So, now that I've gotten all of the main stories of our Indian adventures down, it's time for a few tidbits I want to make sure I don't forget. The majority of these are things I don't have captured in pictures or already in my stories, but are priceless bits that helped make the trip what it was. (There are many more memories than this, of course, but here are a few.)

• From the rising of the sun... At our initial welcome greeting with the Bangalore staff, after singing a song or two in one of the several other languages all of them know, one of the guys leading was trying to find a song in English that we knew, too. He suggested "From the Rising of the Sun," and Brad said "oh yeah, I know that one!" All the rest of us looked at him somewhat baffled, but went along anyway-- it turned out not to matter, because the song Brad and one or two others were thinking of had an entirely different tune. This one was peppy, involved hand motions, and got instantly stuck in our heads for the entire trip. We sang it at any opportunity, and I even made up several other songs to the same tune.
  
• Mango cornflakes. About the best breakfast invention since... I don't know what. In answer to the common questions I've gotten about these: yes, they are the same brand as normal Corn Flakes here. No, it does not have chunks of mango-- the flakes themselves are mango cornflakes. And no matter what some people might try to tell you, banana corn flakes are not better.
  
• 

  (Not the one I took outside)

  Cockroach-wrangling. For some reason, when there was a big brown cockroach in the other womens' room, they fetched me to get it out for them. This was a bit of a process, which ended with me banging a desk drawer against the front stoop outside, trying to dislodge the little bugger. One of the women who works on campus walked over wordlessly (well, I'm not sure she spoke English), took the drawer away from us, walked over to another spot (right behind the kitchen, now that I think of it. Hmmm....), gave it a good whack, and returned the drawer.
  
• Feeding Baskin Robbins to a pitiful stray pooch. We'd stopped at a coffee shop on the way back from somewhere, and right down the way was a Baskin Robbins-- like, the exact same ice cream you'd get at a Baskin Robbins here. So I was sitting outside the cafe talking with Brad and Karrie, when the sweetest, saddest, skinny little stray dog with saggy doggy-teats came creeping up. She was really nice, not begging agressively or anything, so finally we gave her the rest of my ice cream cone. There's one stray dog in India that at least got a taste of waffle cone and mint chocolate chip in her lifetime.
  



My new pal Pinky

• Eating tamarinds with Pinky. Interestingly enough, I've had several people in the last six months or so ask me what tamarind chutney was-- I told them I didn't really know what it was, but that it was the green stuff. Well, Pinky and I (she's 10) were pushing each other on the big swing down by the school on campus (oh yeah, that's also about when she included me in a reference to "you very fat people" that she could still push on a swing) and the tree it was hanging from was apparently a tamarind tree. She spotted some out of reach and got me to pick them. They've pretty sour, but good.
  
• Big bats. The bats. They are big. And sometimes like to fly in the courtyard/hallways inside the dorm building. Also, one almost ran into my head one day as I was sitting on a bench under a low tree. I ducked.
  
• What do your roosters say? Always a critical question when visiting a foreign country. On the day we were out & about in Bangalore, Raj's kids, Nica and Sammy, came along with us, and at one point while talking with the kids in the bus, I asked them this. Nica told me the answer (don't ask me to reproduce or spell it, I don't really remember what the noise was) and when I told them that our roosters say "cock-a-doodle-doo," Raj shook his head in disbelief, almost as if this was factually incorrect. (Next time you're somewhere else, don't forget to ask this question!)
  



First gecko sighting (dining room)

• Geckos, or whatever they are. Cute little lizards that hang out on the walls. Sadly, I didn't actually see too many of these, but it was always delightful when someone pointed one out on the wall of the dining hall, or I looked up while brushing my teeth and noticed one chilling on our bedroom wall.
  
• Angela asking the women at Tarika if they squat often during the day. She and Kaitlyn were actually talking about muscle aches and arthritis from repetitive motions, but not thinking of the fact that most of the women probably use squat toilets, this sent all of them into giggles.
  



Typical Gideon grin

• Little Gideon bringing me a cricket ball for breakfast. Ok, I know James (who, I should add, is also from Michigan) liked giving me a hard time about my supposed Michigan accent, but seriously. I specified that I was looking for a bowl to put cereal in, and demonstrated with my hands. So I did wonder when he ran out of the kitchen... fortunately I had better luck with the women actually working in the kitchen, who brought out a stack of bowls, rather than sporting equipment.
   
• 

  Just say no to cobweb fruits

  Whatever the nasty thing is that hangs off the end of the banana bunch. In Dharmapuri, the same guy at the clinic who got coconuts down for us then cut this long purplish thing off the end of a bunch of bananas, on one of their banana trees, and carved it up and got out the middle part. We each nibbled a bit off-- first Brad, who decided not to tell anyone else that it was really pretty gross, and just let the next person try it. Even though I was the last of the girls to taste it, and they'd all told me about it, I had to try for myself, and someone's description was really remarkably accurate: it tastes like cobwebs. The guy (whose name I don't know, sorry guy!) told us it was good for the stomach, so at least he was not just feeding us cobweb-tasting things gratuitously.
   
• No monkeys in North America.

  

  monkey heading onto campus!

  There are a lot of monkeys around, especially in some areas (we had on or two on campus while we were around), but it was always fun to see them crossing the road or hanging out on buildings along the way. While driving back from someplace, James mentioned that the previous year, one of the staff had been shocked when she learned there were were no monkeys in the U.S.... at which point David turned around in the van and asked in amazement, "you don't have any monkeys there??"
  

• 

  A little TOO early for Rosy & Ruby

  Morning greetings from two preggo pooches. It wasn't long before I got into a routine of getting up by 6am, being ready by the time (or before) the rest of my room was waking up, and heading up to the 2nd floor porch with my Bible, my journal, and my iPod. It was about the only time of day you could actually get a little time to yourself. When we returned to campus, there were more people about so that porch was often locked, and I instead took to dragging a chair up onto the roof of the dining hall. Rosy and Ruby would either be already up there, or quickly find me and just explode in joy that there was someone up at that hour to greet them. I'd have to finally push their fat bellies aside, they'd be so busy leaning into me in happiness that they'd nearly knock me over.
  
• Half-naked babies. While riding on the train back from Dharmapuri, there was a half-naked baby being held by a man across the aisle. This was not the first half-naked baby we'd seen. Kaitlyn wondered to me how they keep him from peeing, and while I tried to come up with something, I really had no idea. At which point the baby peed all over the man.
  
• Brad getting propositioned by a transvestite on the train. Yeah, there's not a lot more explanation needed on that one.
  
• Monkey on the Ford sign. Oh, to have gotten a picture of the big monkey sitting atop the sign for the Ford (dealership? factory?) that we often passed in Bangalore...!
  
• And speaking of roosters... whatever language it was speaking in, the one from next door liked to wake us all up veeeery early in the morning. I actually got quite fond of him... though I'm pretty sure everyone else was wondering if Mutu could put rooster on the menu.

Prayers for India

Now that you've been able to read a bit about my travels in India, below, what next?

There are many, many stories of people, programs, and communities in need that I haven't shared here-- because there would be so many it would be overwhelming, and also because some of them involve details that are too sensitive to just put on the web.

However, I have set up a way for you to hear one story, one prayer request each week-- one thing I saw first hand in India is the power of prayer. If you'd like to join in praying for one person, family, ministry, community, or social issue in India each week, please visit the Yahoo group I set up to send those out. You'll get one email each week with a prayer request. You can click the link below, or the purple button on the left side of this page.

Prayers for India

Friday, July 30th - Debrief, Modi, and Cricket

(Note: Read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

Friday-- our last day in India. I was definitely not ready to leave! That morning we met with the leadership staff once again, this time to debrief on our time in India-- both sides sharing what our time here has been like for us.

We then departed to head to Modi Road, where the Muslim slum in Bangalore is. This is David and Taru's ministry, and we'd originally thought we wouldn't be able to visit this year, but after arriving on campus we found out that was on our itinerary. Muslims are marginalized in India, which is of course a mostly Hindu society, and the conditions we saw there were among the most crowded and poorest living conditions we saw while in India. Last year the Pathways team did a medical camp in Modi-- the first and only one that's ever been done in that slum. David and Taru shared that even something as simple as a few hours of medical outreach has really opened up their freedom to work in the slum.

After winding through narrow streets and alleys, we came across the new little church building-- a single room made of concrete block. James and Angela shared that last year, it hadn't been there. Next to that was a one-room hut pieced together of corrugated plastic, metal and tarp-- maybe a little bit bigger than my living room. This was the pastor's house.

We split up and half of us went into each building, where half of the children from the child nutrition program were gathered, sitting cross-legged on the floor. We'd planned on singing a couple of songs, but when we arrived we were also encouraged to share a story, so Angela asked if they knew the story of Noah's Ark. Having time to wait while someone translates for you gives you a chance to realize that it is not the happiest story to tell small children. I had trouble keeping from laughing when, mid-way through our story, Angela got to the point of, "Everyone died." We then did our stand-by, "Father Abraham," and some of the kids even got into the motions with us. (Of course, there was also the little boy who would not stop crying the entire time we were there. It had already been a long day for the little ones, and they were waiting for their lunch, so that plus the shock of a group of white people trooping in was apparently just a little bit too much to deal with.)

Then, they got their food. The child nutrition program has 60 children, ages 4-6, enrolled. The children come to the church where they learn stories and songs, and they are given a lunch of a bread roll, a hard-boiled egg, and a cup of milk (and lots of love, of course-- Taru and David are awesome). For many of the children, that is the only meal they will eat that day. Right now, the program can only afford to operate 3 days a week, but they would like to double that to 6 days a week. They'd also like to build a more permanent, 2-story structure to have facilities for the church and children's programs.

Taru pointed out one little boy, and said that through his involvement with the program, they'd been speaking to his mother as well, and she and the child were going to be coming to the church service that Sunday for the first time. After eating, the kids dispersed, and we all gathered in the pastor's home and heard more about the program, the pastor's incredible story (ask me about the story of his son, sometime) and the goals they have for the ministry there.

I will add that our experience in Modi was different than I expected-- we'd heard a lot about how we (the women, that is) would need to have our heads covered, make sure not to make eye contact with the men, etc. Actually, we didn't really encounter many men, that I can think of-- and Taru was quick to dismiss our questions of whether we needed to cover our heads. When someone asked if it would be ok to take pictures in the slum, she reassured us that people there were very open to us being there. (On the other hand, though, they mentioned that it would probably not be a good idea to go to the area where the medical camp had been held, so those who'd been on that trip could see the area now, without planning ahead of time. Angela and James had previously told us that when they were leaving Modi last year, the staff had told them that whenever there were problems in the city-- unrest, crime, etc.-- the authorities always looked to Modi first.)

After returning to campus that afternoon, we finally got our chance to play an actual game of cricket with the staff. The other group from the U.S. had departed early that morning, so it was just us and whatever staff we could recruit (not that that was difficult, as the guys all seem to be plenty enthusiastic about cricket). It was sort of sand-lot cricket-- well, literally, because we were playing in the dirt yard in the front of campus near the school, and also because this set-up and not having a full number of players (whatever number that is!) required some alterations: you don't play any balls that are hit to the left of the tamarind tree; any balls hit over the school count as 6 runs; if you catch a ball but it hit a palm leaf on the way down, it's not an automatic out; etc... and it was already confusing enough, since we were just thrown into the game and figured it out as we went. (I still have no idea who was keeping score, or how. They could have totally made up the scores, I'd never know.)

It was tons of fun, though-- I even tried my hand at "bowling" (pitching) and got one person out, and when it was my team's turn to bat, I even got a few runs in. Plus... my team won both games. (No, I am not claiming credit for this fact. I think the Indians basically played a game of cricket, in spite of us!) Unfortunately I have no pictures of me playing cricket, but I think Brad got some of us all playing, so I'll try to get copies from him!

That evening was bittersweet, hanging out for the last time with many of our new friends on campus. We left late that evening for our 2:15am flight out of Bangalore, and we were on our way...

Thursday, July 29th - Prayer meeting & games

(Note: Read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

 Thursday morning we gathered with OM staff and another group that had arrived on campus while we were in Dharmapuri, from California, for a prayer meeting. It was a good time of worship and prayer-- for America, for our churches, for India, and for each other individually. It was also the first time we really interacted with the other group (we were sorta tired by the time we got home the previous night), so it was good to hear more about their travels in India, and what their church is committed to doing there.

There was also a pastor there, Pastor James, who was visiting with several women from his ministry. He works to rescue temple prostitutes from Hindu temples-- it is estimated that there are still 3 million temple prostitutes throughout India. While some of the women (particularly the older ones) feel that it is an honor to have this role, most are women who were abducted-- taken to another city with the promise of work, then forced into this role.

After lunch we were scheduled for a couple more hours of Bible study, but we'd been wanting to play cricket with the staff since we arrive, and it kept getting put off. Since relationship-building was a big part of us coming there, James spoke to Raj about forgoing the Bible study time in favor of playing games with the staff. We started off with some games in the church-- the same word game we'd introduced in Dharmapuri, musical chairs (I think my favorite of the games), Biblical charades, "tiger/poacher/lady" (akin to rock/paper/scissors), and "steal the bacon," as introduced by Karrie. Then... the rain had let up, so time to learn some cricket! We got in some batting practice before it really did start to rain too hard (well, I was all for keeping going a little while longer), and it pretty much rained the rest of the evening.

For dinner that evening we had apparently a traditional meal with a bunch of different components, served on banana leaves (from campus, of course). There were some tasty tasty things in that meal!

Wednesday, July 28th - Last day at Dharmapuri

(Note: Read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

On Wednesday, there weren't as many patients at the clinic. The doctor is only there for 2 hours in the mornings (and leaves if there aren't any patients), but the clinic also used to be open only 2 days a week (before the full hospital opened last August), so people were used to coming on those days.

So most of us offered to help with whatever labor was needed around the hospital. Before any of us split up to work, though, and older woman came up to where we were all sitting around in the waiting room, speaking to us in Tamil. She lifted the edge of her sari skirt, and her leg had a deep open wound all up the ankle. (Props to the members of our group with weaker stomachs, who managed to avoid fleeing or passing out-- it was really pretty bad.) There was no one immediately at hand to translate for us, so we just gathered around the woman, laid our hands on her and prayed for us. Later someone translated for us that the woman had hurt her leg in an accident, and it had been very bad, but she said that after coming to the clinic, it was much better. It was also revealed that the woman was a Christian, and so appreciated and was touched by us praying for her. Later in the morning after her leg had been bandaged and she was preparing to leave, she hugged us all repeatedly and drew us close for the pictures we took with her. Who knows-- it may well be that no one else has gotten that close to her in a long time.

After praying with that woman in the morning, we all went outside to set about the grounds work the staff had identified for us to help with (soon after which some members of the team escaped the hard labor, volunteering to go meet with the one or two patients who were inside). Our first task was to lug buckets and bowls full of rocks and chunks of brick and cement from a pile near the driveway, and spread them in a low-lying area next to the hospital that tends to collect water when it rains, and that they were going to try and fill in some more. (Ironically, Brad had just cleared all of those rocks out of that lawn the previous afternoon-- due to the staff who told him that it needed to be done, apparently being confused as to what the plan for that area was. I'd joked to him that it had looked like some sort of penance, carrying rocks in a bucket, and he replied with a reference to some movie where a prisoner movies things back & forth. I will forever find that situation funny.)

After the rocks were done, we took to these bent shovel-hoe thingys and cleared the driveway immediately in front of the hospital of weeds & grass. (Unfortunately, I didn't think to take a "before" shot to compare our handiwork with.) Some bemoaned that it seemed like a losing battle, as the grasses might be filling back in soon-- but I pointed out that everything we were doing in India was technically a losing battle, in that sense: there would always be more AIDS patients, more people in poverty, more orphans, more women abused and oppressed, more people who need to know Christ-- but that doesn't mean we don't do anything about it! So we cleared the driveway, because it mattered.

While we were working, a number of the staff kept coming out onto the front entrance of the hospital to watch. They appeared to find it quite amusing, that were we all out there hacking up the driveway (in our salwars, of course). In a culture where we were always treated as honored guests, I suppose it was a little amusing for us to be lugging around buckets of rocks and getting dirty. I'm glad we could provide a little entertainment for the morning.

We ate lunch with the hospital staff outside under the shady tree where we'd had Bible study the previous afternoon, and then hung out and played some word games (an interesting and entertaining undertaking, seeing as it was carried out in 2 languages). It was great to be able to laugh and hang out with the staff.

Finally we headed back to the train station, where it was even more of an adventure to get on the right train this time. As the train was about to come up to the station, Thangaraj declared that we actually needed to be on the other side of the tracks-- I glanced over to the right, where at the far end of the station there was a walk-over for pedestrians to cross the tracks-- way too far, no time. So quickly (with a couple of the staff fortunately helping with our bags, since in salwars and skirts this was a difficult enough process, never mind the approaching train), we had to jump down onto the tracks, cross over and scramble back up the other side. I later heard that Kaitlyn got her foot stuck on a rail, movie-style, and Brad had to help free her.

Then we had to run back and forth, not seeing the right car number, and people kept directing us back and forth (fortunately one of the staff was escorting us back on the train-- which we'd found almost unnecessarily considerate & helpful, since he was going to be just turning around & heading right back to Dharmapuri the same evening, but it turned out to be very helpful to have a Tamil-speaker at that particular moment). At one point while racing along, my backpack came open and those behind me had to help grab up the things that fell out as they ran behind-- but, finally we got of the train, and just in time for the other guys who'd been helping us with bags & finding the right car, to jump off as it started to inch away from the station.

And oh, have I mentioned Ignatius in all these tales of Dharmapuri? After the sleepy train ride there, when he wouldn't talk to anyone but his dad, once back on his own turf he took to me thoroughly, insisting on people re-arranging their seats so he could sit next to me at meals and hanging on me whenever he was around. Of course, despite me (and his parents, and his older brother) explaining to him over and over that I didn't understand Tamil, the only thing he ever said to me in English was "photo!" one time when he wanted to check out my camera. Such a cutie.

Anyway, getting back to campus-- even just starting with being greeted by Mark when the van pulled up the train station-- really felt like coming home.

Tuesday, July 27th - Dharmapuri, cont.

(Note: Read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

Tuesday was our full day in Dharmapuri and the Good Shepherd Hospital. After devotions with the staff in the morning, we divided into 2's or 3's and met with patients who came in. We tried to get a bit of their story (it often felt hard to get them to open up-- especially the men-- talking to them through a translator) and then prayed with them. We heard some stories of incredible hardship and rejection, but they were also stories of great resiliency, and were really inspiring.

I met one girl, Archana, who really touched me. There were no more patients coming in for Brad and I to speak and pray with, so I went outside where the others were gathered and speaking with another family. This cute, spunky little girl comes up and asks me "auntie, what is your name?" Before long we were fast friends, her taking me by the hand to sit next to me on the bench. Archana is 13, in the 4th standard, and her favorite subject is English. Her mother is HIV positive, as was her father, so Archana has to help out a lot when her mother feels sick, but still she is spirited and happy, and wants to be a singer when she grows up. (Later, when we were videotaping an interview with her and her mother, Archana sang a bit for us.)

We also did a couple of home visits that afternoon, to counselors and patients from the hospital. We had to walk quite a ways to the first counselor's rural home, because one of the feuding families in the area had dug a deep ditch across the road, so that cars wouldn't be able to drive on it.

That first woman we visited, at left, works at the hospital-- her husband passed away, and while she could take his government job and make more money, she is committed to being a counselor for the hospital and doing outreach. Her older son wants to be a doctor when he grows up, and is well on his way-- while we all crowded into the living area of the small home and stood around talking with his mother, he was not to be distracted from his homework-- someone had to persuade him to put his book away long enough to take a couple of pictures!

It was cool to be able to visit people in their homes, however humble-- people have the same values all over, like hospitality, pride in a clean and welcoming home, joy in work, love for and pride in their children, and a desire to be able to just live their life as everyone else does.

Of course we were followed by a crowd of kids wherever we went-- though this time, I could tell only part of it was because we were there. The kids also clearly loved Pastor Morgan, who was taking us around. One little girl performed one of their Sunday School songs for us (see the video on my facebook page).

Monday, July 26th - Travel to Dharmapuri

(Note: Read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

We got up very early to leave at 5am for the Bangalore train station. (As you can see, Rosy and Ruby were almost too tired to see us off.) There was actually very little traffic at that hour-- I remarked that it was the fewest people I'd seen in India. James noted that the frequent power outages prevent things from keeping going, 24 hours a day. I like that, a society that actually sleeps.

Getting on the correct train was a bit interesting-- I was glad we had Thangaraj (and his little son Ignatius) with us, and even so we had to move back and forth several times, and when the train did come we still had to trot over to the right car. (Note that it was so early in the morning that when we arrived back in Bangalore a few days later, the train station did not even look familiar to me. I was sure I had never been in that place before, till we got into the actual station itself. But, as always, at least there was chai!)

The train ride itself was glorious, though the more complaint-prone members of the team might disagree. It didn't seem long at all to me, because we soon were traveling through about one of the most beautiful places on Earth. I don't like to underestimate God, but I sort of didn't know there were places so beautiful. Red plowed fields, rows of banana trees, grazing goats, lush green crops, forests of palm trees-- all in front of the backdrop of mountains rising up so abruptly, silhouettes frames against the gray sky so starkly, that they hardly seemed real.

We got to the hospital mid-morning, and let me tell you, if you have to go to an AIDS clinic, it might as well be one in such a beautiful location. The actual hospital just opened last August-- the last time the Pathways group visited, it was still being finished, and all that was open yet was the small, definitely less hospital-like clinic building opposite (which is what's pictured at left). That's where the nutrition program is now located (they get balanced mixes of grains, nuts, etc. and grind and package them for patients who need daily nutrition supplements in their diet), as well as some tailoring classes. While the hospital and classes do also serve people without HIV, they are an invaluable service for people in the area who are HIV-positive. Often regular hospitals will refuse to treat, let alone operate on, HIV+ people, or will charge them prices that are prohibitive for most people, because they say they have additional costs in needing to replace supplies that they cannot use on other people after that patient. It is also hard for HIV+ people to find work, so the tailoring classes give women skills they can use to earn money from home. (FYI, the lower picture is the waiting room in the new hospital.)

As long as I'm giving background-- one of the reasons HIV/AIDS is a big problem in this area is because while it is in a pretty rural area, Dharmapuri (about 65,000 people, according to a quick Google search I just did) is located along the national highway. Truckers who go away for work, often up to a couple of months at a time, visit prostitutes or have affairs in the big cities they go through, and bring the disease back to their wives (and often their future children, if the family is not diagnosed or the woman does not have access/information to seek treatment that will help prevent mother-baby transmission). A lack of education about HIV and how it is spread, as well as (not surprisingly, given the former circumstance) great stigma on those who are infected, exacerbate the problem.

So anyway... back to our story. That morning that we arrived in Dharmapuri, we prayed with a few patients who had come in to see the doctor, and heard a little bit about their stories.

After lunch, we went out into a village-- crowded and small quarters, but cleaner than I'd pictured-- and did some health presentations (on such topics as how germs are spread, personal hygiene, nutrition, etc.) Unlike in Bangalore, most people here don't speak English, so everything was with translators.

In the evening again we went to another village-- where we were instantly mobbed by children, rock-star style (like, before we'd even climbed out of the ambulance). The kids mostly could speak English, and that first group all asked "what is your name?" and "what is your country?" I tried inquiring the latter question of a couple of them, but I don't think they quite got the joke, solemnly replying, "India."

One girl asked me "pray for this child," indicating a younger girl accompanying her. I crouched down and said we could all pray together, at which point the girl broke off into a rapid prayer in Tamil. Apparently it is not so important that we be the one doing the praying, but that we show up and join in.

We then did our health presentations again-- this time, it was mostly the children gathered, with the parents and older people sitting in doorways or leaning against a house across the street-- and then an enormously cheesy Indian AIDS awareness movie was shown.

Oh, and a final gem to leave you with today-- at right is an utterly adorable, sweet little girl (and her beautiful mother, or I assume her mother, anyway) with whom I engaged in an enchanting game of peekaboo. You don't need to speak the same language-- baby-flirt is universal. :)