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. :)

Sunday, July 25th - Church Services

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

On Sunday morning, the group split up. Half went to a Good Shepherd Church in the city, and the other 4 of us were to go to the services at the church on campus. After spending some time alone journalling, in prayer and preparing to share my testimony during the youth service, I had a brief but nonetheless impactful encounter with someone who was being really negative at the moment, so I wasn't feeling much in the mood for any such thing. But I'd said I would share, and I did still want to, whatever other negativity may be interfering with my day.

The youth service was not very big, some children and young adults (by which I'm including people, like my age). We lead a couple of songs, falteringly (and not nearly as well as the worship leader, whom we that evening found out had been in 3 Bollywood bands). But it was fun, and I even managed to get through my brief testimony, via a translator for those who didn't understand English. The whole service (which had started at 9am) was over by 9:50 or so, giving us a few minutes before the main service began. During this time we met a man from Denver who'd recently moved with his family to a gated community near Bangalore (with a lot of other expats; he works for Sysco). It was interesting how he was saying that, with that community, he could live in India without ever really doing India, if he wanted to-- I was just thinking, why would you ever want to do such a thing?

The main worship service contained a lot more singing (including "God is So Good" in something like a dozen languages! Including Portuguese) and then a long... long... long message from Alfie Franks (who is going to be the first bishop of the GSCC's-- Good Shepherd Community Churches). Let's just say it was going on 1pm when we got out. (There were some really good points in his message, though. Unbeknownst to us, however, the other church service was not nearly as long, and the other group had to wait like an hour and a half for us to meet them for lunch.)

We then were picked up and went to meet the rest of the team, plus a few of the OM staff and the family of the pastor of the city church, for lunch at a Chinese restaurant (which was really quite good, actually).


The evening saw us return to the same church in the city for a youth service. (We later found out that this is a special service, they only have these a few times a year.) Initially the rest of the group had decided they didn't want to go, but I'd protested that doing stuff was what we were in India for, and it seemed like no one ever wanted to do anything. Eventually it was decided that we would go after all, and I'm really glad we did end up going.

I hadn't been to that service in the morning, obviously, so I didn't know what to expect-- we went down into a basement room in this building. It was really hot and stuffy, and there were people just packed in. Now, just like I mentioned for the morning service, when they say "youth" it's not just like kids-- the people there were probably teens through 20s. The same music leader who'd been at the on-campus church that morning was leading the singing here, as well, along with a couple other musicians (including a guy on the keyboards who provided utterly hilarious sound effects for our later skit).

And dancing! The guys had no inhibitions whatsoever about breaking into a dance party, yelling back an enthusiastic "no!" when the leader asked, "does God say you can't dance? does the Bible say you shouldn't dance?" Karrie and Megan found room to squeeze in next to the girls (we'd filed in along the back wall or seats in the front when we came in, since the service was already underway) to try and get them dancing as well, though none ever joined in with quite as much energy as the two of them.

After all that wild singing and dancing, Angela shared her testimony, as we'd been asked to have at least one person share, and we'd also been asked... to do a skit. I dare say we didn't do too bad, for having as little time as we did to come up with an idea that afternoon-- we even got some laughs (and I mean, at appropriate times, which may even indicate laughing with us rather than at us). We based it on James 2:14-26, which we'd read for our team devotions earlier in the weekend. Of course, then we were shown up by their skit, which clearly had much more time to put preparation into it-- Sodom and Gomorrah, always a good time.

Afterwards, we enjoyed samosas and soda together outside the entrance to the building, before heading back to campus for the night. (I guess I should add that the next morning was when we were leaving campus at 5am for our train to Dharmapuri-- I did a really great job of getting my backpack packed with the things I was taking for the few days, and ready to head to bed on time... till I pretty much cut off the tip of my finger. There was profuse bleeding. Days-- nay, weeks-- of pain. Still not all the way healed up. But really, as soon as it happened-- while my roommates were busy stopping me from putting my hand under the tap while they fetched bottled water-- I thought of the most important thing: that I really didn't want it to mess up my mehndi. :)

Saturday, July 24th - City Tour/Rest Day

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order. Background: This day did not, in fact, involve much resting. But it did involve some relaxation. Read on.)

We didn't have anything particular planned for Saturday-- Jo stayed back to rest, and the rest of us loaded onto the bus for an informal tour of Bangalore. Raj's kids, Nica and Sammy, were going to join us for our adventures that day, and it was fun to have them along too. We agreed that most of us wanted to visit a Hindu temple, and while we were also interested in seeing the tech area of the city (Bangalore is the IT center of India), it turned out to be too far away to be convenient.

So our first stop was a temple. One of the guys later said that temples normally don't allow people to just come in to see, so it was somewhat unusual that this one did ok it. The priest (if that's what they're called, I don't recall their titles) even said it was ok to take a couple of snapshots, when someone asked about it. It was an interesting experience. There are so many different Hindu gods (like, really-- 330 million, give or take a few) and each has different specialties and different offerings to be bought or brought, different services or ceremonies that can be performed at the temple for a fee-- I cannot imagine how anyone would ever keep track. It is so comforting to know that we can have a personal relationship with the one God, and don't even have to keep track of which elaborate hoops we need to jump through to get things from him. He already gives us what we need.

After we left the temple, we went to a store where we could buy gifts and souvenirs. Raj initially said "15 minutes" and then we'd go to the next stop, but apparently the rest of the group was on "Indian time," because people shopped for much longer than that. After going through the entire store, I checked out with a couple small purchases and found myself the first one done. I waited outside with Reuben, Raj & Sammy for quite some time before the others came out, as well. From there we hit up a small grocery store so people could buy tea, spices, and any other snacks or items they wanted for the week & to take home with them. (I got me a good-sized package of coriander... and you all know-- or should-- how I feel about coriander!)

And from there... Hard Rock Bengaluru!* We were all excited for some American food-- not least of all me, who was eager for a solid meal (I'd begged James that morning, practically in tears, to make sure that wherever we ate out in the city, it'd be someplace where a solid vegetarian meal could be had-- who knew it'd actually be so hard to eat in India?), and Karrie, since it was her birthday and she got to have nachos (though she did claim they tasted a bit like curry). (On the way in, we even got to witness a few police officers trying to shake down the guys for money-- when Raj told them no, they apparently didn't want to press the issue in front of a bunch of Americans.) We also got to see Karrie's birthday celebrated, Indian-style. Definitely my favorite moment of the day.

*Bengaluru is the Indian name for Bangalore-- kind of like Mumbai vs. Bombay. But... I never did actually hear an Indian refer to it as Bengaluru, though it is on some of the signs and whatnot.

Friday, July 23rd - Baptism Celebration

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

On Friday we traveled out to the Good Shepherd Community Church in a rural village called Chellur. This community has a lot of gypsies, who from what I've heard/read, are not much accepted here, as anywhere else. It was a long drive, involving bumpy roads and a long ways between our breakfast stop and the next toilet (I was happy to hear that there was indeed a squat toilet at the church, since James had initially said something about squatting in a field), and the trip got started late due to an issue with one of the vehicles and needing to find another to use-- one of the staff said that every time they have a baptism, there is some kind of disturbance-- Satan does not want to see this happen (and, interestingly, many of us did later have camera issues, including me-- full memory cards, dead batteries-- including me having a battery die, and then the fresh one I put in quickly running out as well. Still, where two or three are gathered... we have plenty of pictures and stories to share this joyful day with people back home).


It was about the longest service I've ever been in, though-- we were once again among the honored guests seated at the front of church and draped in garlands, but only parts of the service were in (or translated into) English, so it was hard to follow more than the spirit of much of the service. In the end, though (well, service-wise, in the middle) 32 new believers were baptized in a tank set into the ground in the church courtyard-- young men and women, and those so old they climbed the stairs out of the tank with aid of a cane and many supporting hands-- including one old woman who was very fearful of the water. What a powerful thing baptism must be in a place where you might have gone your entire life without ever being underwater!

After the service wrapped up, we once again had some time to visit with the people there-- pretty much none of the church members spoke English, but just squeezing hands, hugging, and taking pictures together was enough for us all to convey (hopefully) how special the other's presence was.

(There are tons more pictures I could share from this event-- and many of the other people in our group got more portraits of some of the people getting baptized that day, or participating in the celebration. You can see a few great shots at Brad's website, www.blivengood.com, under the "India" folder.)

Thursday, July 22nd - Tarika Women's Centre, Day 2

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

On Thursday we went back to the women's centre, eagerly and with much joy in our hearts. The women were going to be in their normal class sessions (three 1 1/2-hour "batches," as they called them), and we had the opportunity to participate with them and to also lead some parts of the classes.

We took turns enacting (and then having the students repeat back) some basic conversation scenarios that Megan wrote up beforehand, for the spoken English classes. Angela and Kaitlyn went around together to the different classes, Angela speaking a bit about arthritis and joint problems (how they are caused and how to help prevent/treat them), and Kaitlyn demonstrating some yoga poses and explaining the benefits of stretching exercises. (I got to witness their first presentation, to a spoken English class, and it went over great-- once the floodgates were open, almost all the women wanted to try the poses and have Kaitlyn help them with them. Me-- my salwar pants were a bit too tight to do them well!) Otherwise, people just went around to the different classes and observed or participated-- I know Jo tried her hand at embroidery, and Brad had a question-and-answer time with a computer class during a power outage.

As soon as the first session ended, Karrie and I were enlisted to apply mehndi designs to the women's hands before they left for the day. (We'd picked up henna during our shopping trip with Sheba & Tabitha the afternoon before.) I have to say that our first attempts were somewhat less than noteworthy (well, and so were my second, and third... Karrie gave up after one) but the girls were very gracious. As one of the staff members told us as we were starting off, "they love you, so they will love whatever you do." One woman toward the end of the day, Banu, even asked me to write my name ("in your language," she made sure to specify) on her wrist (she did remember my name then). Another teenage girl brought out a small memo pad and asked for my "autograph" to show her friends (she then got Karrie's and Megan's as well). It's a little strange to feel like such a celebrity, when all you did was show up. We ended up doing mehndi with each group of women as they finished their classes for the day (and of course some of them put their much greater skills to good use on our hands, as well).

It was really wonderful to be able to sit and talk with the women and girls, as girlfriends (by the end of the day we'd given up on chairs, and were all sprawled out all over the floor)-- turns out we're pretty much the same, despite our different languages or accents, different styles of dress (though, not so different that day), different countries and cultures. They still love their children, and have dreams for their future, and the younger girls were absolutely an inspiration. For instance, Kavya, at 17, is paying for her own tuition. She doesn't want to rely on anyone else or take their money. She wants to become a banker, and plans to get married only "after 10 years." We told the girls that American girls could definitely learn some things from them. They taught us a few phrases in Tamil, and after much giggling answered Karrie's inquiries as to how to use the toilet in a sari (just hike it up), and they all asked when we were coming back. We all wished we could say "tomorrow" or "next week," and truly I made friends I will not soon forget.

Another part of our second day at the women's centre was to start doing some video interviews. The plan is to edit together a video to show the church leadership, so they can see the amazing and life-altering work occurring over there. We interviewed 3 of the students-- Kattie and I did one of these interviews, and even though we'd already sat down with our interviewee beforehand and heard her story, we were both struggling to keep from tears during the interview itself. (Again, I won't share the details of her personal story here, but it is a powerful and heartbreaking tale of struggle and resiliency.)

After the interview, James (who had been videotaping the interview) left the room, and Karrie, the woman we interviewed, Josie (who translated) and I all prayed together. When we were getting ready to leave the room, Karrie apologized to Josie for crying, saying that she knew our tears didn't help the woman, who'd already been crying during the interview-- to which Josie replied something to the effect that it was ok, and that was what women did together (share and cry and support each other), and it showed her that we cared. And I thought of how true that was-- more than once during this trip already we ladies had been gathered around one bed or another, supporting and praying over whoever may have been struggling at that particular moment-- and I shared that with Josie, too. It is interesting and touching to see how much more we are all the same, than different.

It was very hard to say good-bye to the Tarika centre and all the women & men there at the end of the day, and they will all be much in my prayers.