Monday, January 31, 2011


8:50am Jan 17, 2011

India is so strange!  There will be a broken-down shack on the side of the road, but it will have a beautiful spire on top!  They take off their shoes when they go into a building because shoes are dirty, but they wipe their poo with their left hands!  The begging women wear some of the most beautiful fabrics I've ever seen, and the standard style for men is blast-from-the-past 70's clothes!

We're on the bus ride to the 1st village.  We have it SO NICE.  Our immediate response is complaint, but we have the nicest sleeping conditions in the city, we're riding in the nicest bus I've seen here, and we have a team of people cooking food for us.  We are NOT roughing it by Indian standards.  But it's definitely not a standard we're used to.

I just talked to family and a dear friend.  Maybe it's the contagious lightness of my own heart, but they all sounded so joyous!  We've hardly started the trip and I already can't wait to get home to tell everyone about this adventure!  This place is amazing.  The Native leader, Edgar, says that 80% of India's HUGE population lives in the villages.  THIS is where India's heart beats.  THIS is who we're going to love on and care for.  THIS is where Christ has sent us.

I love the random palm trees.  And the herds of Brahma bulls.  And the incredibly strong women.  And the vivid colors.  I love the warm culture.  Everyone waves and smiles at us.  I love the honking--it's a language all its own.  Speaking of--I want to learn "This is the day that the Lord has made" in Telugu.  Goal for the week. 

Cotton fields!  Home!  Brahma bulls carrying loads of sticks!  Not so much like home.  Incredible... If a few people were here with me, I think I could stay here forever.  Well... in these cushy conditions.  I don't know if I'm strong enough to live as rough a life as is here.  Dear God, bless each one of these people we see...



Wow.  This is going to be hard.  150-200 kids.  Mass chaos.  Helicopter moms, ps, are universal.  So after struggling against the language barrier and bathing in hand sanitizer, we're on the bus again.  Rather than stealing these children and taking them home, THEY'RE stealing ME.  In village #1 i life my heart with Marco, our little 9-year-old helper, and Anita, my Telugu teacher.  There were many many more, but I remembered those 2 names and they were the most enthusiastic.  The mass of children yelling goodbye by the bus was the clincher.  "Coooole!  Ah-mahn-dah!"  So.... sweeeeeet...

Dr. Katoo (spelling?) is awesome.  God-fearing man.  Spoke on the bus and refocused us--thank the Lord.  I hope the next village goes smoother for all parties.  God, work in us.

Beautiful moment with some older women.  They were asking something of me and I couldn't figure it out.  After several desperate tries, I realized how ridiculous I must look, and I started laughing.  They all laughed with me, which made us all laugh harder and harder.  It was such a sweet moment of shared humanity.  How appropriate that common ground can be found on the other side of the globe through laughter.

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