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
Sunday, August 15, 2010
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...
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 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.)
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!
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!
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!
Friday, August 13, 2010
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.
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 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. 
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.
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).
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).
Thursday, August 12, 2010
Monday, July 26th - Travel to Dharmapuri
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.
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.
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.
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. :)
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.
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. :)
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