Randomness

Ok, here are a whole bunch of random things that have crossed my mind since I arrived in India 2 weeks ago:

Dance

I love Indian dance culture!  We’ve been dancing in the streets before our open air meetings and during our 24h worship sessions, and I absolutely love how people of all ages get involved.  I love how it’s not sexualized the way it is in the West.  Granted, there are certain types of dancing that are sexualized, but the general type of dance that the average kid and youth do is just pure fun.

Sharing

I like how people here really look out for others.  If they have a cookie, they’ll snap it in half to share with you.  If they have a bottle of pop, they’ll give you a sip.  The only thing is that sometimes I don’t like to share.  The other day, we ran out of drinking water at the pastor’s house where we were eating.  I was about to go out to buy a bottle, but one of the guys bought it for me.  I was glad to be served by a gallant gentleman, but at the same time, I secretly was a little unhappy that I’d have to share the 1L of water with 15 people since he’d be bringing the water back directly to where the DTS team was (yes, I’m a great team player!).  When he came back, I made myself drink half the bottle before passing it off.  Needless to say, they finished it off for me.  The next time I was thirsty, I snuck out, bought myself a bottle, and drank the whole liter before going back to join the team.  Yes, I am a little stingy.

The Girl from the Village

I was sitting in church, looking out the door when I saw this 10-year-old girl with special needs on the ground, her navy blue skirt dusty.  A slightly younger girl, maybe eight, pulled hard on her right hand while a five-year-old pulled at her left hand, as if trying to lift her up.  As I continued to observe, I saw a three-year-old tug hard at her feet.  The girl with the learning disability was grinning at the others.  When the younger girls failed to lift her up, one of them began using her fists to pound on the head of the girl with special needs. 

That’s when I leapt to my feet, ran out the door without pausing to put on my sandals and grabbed the hands of the younger girls.  I found out that all 3 of them were hitting her.  The girl with a learning disability couldn’t speak clearly, and even if she could, my Telugu is too limited, but I can imagine that those same girls were the ones that pushed her to the ground.  Infuriated, I reprimanded them sharply and told them repeatedly, “no hitting.”  The girls still had little smirks on their faces, so I asked a friend to come and translate for me. 

It always amazes me how cruel children can be sometimes.  Cruelty and bullying—especially to those who are weak and unable to stand up for themselves—is something I absolutely detest. 

Just in case you didn’t know…

Even if you drink 4L of water, you probably don’t have to go to the washroom when the temperature is 40C because you sweat it all out.  Seriously.

A buffalo here generally gives 15-20L of milk per day and they cost around $1300+

The best cleaner and the only one that is free is ants.  What other product will diligently run around and sniff out all the crumbs and dead insects to remove?  What other product will work day in and day out removing the undesirable items from your floor?

Sweat stings when it drips into your eyes.

Corrugated roofs make the room HOT.  Thatched roofs and concrete roofs are less hot.  It’s even better if you have a false ceiling instead of your ceiling being the roof.

When it’s 40+ degrees in the day time, your bed sheets will feel like they’ve been just taken out of the dryer even at midnight.

It sucks being a girl because then you get extra bad heat rash in places where you have to wear an extra layer of clothing.

When it’s 47C out, and you’re under the sun, wind blowing in your face is not that fun.  It feels like you’ve just opened the oven to take out the roast beef and the heat has come surging out to the point of singeing your eyelashes.

Your arms can sweat, your legs can sweat, your face and neck can REALLY sweat, and even your feet can sweat.  Oh, did I mention your bottom?

Chameleons have really cool hands.  It looks like they’re wearing mittens.  Their eyes look like skin covered volcanoes with a little black opening at the peak.

It is possible to dance in the pitch dark without anyone getting hurt. 

The sweetest sound on earth is when you hear water dripping into a bucket after 36h of no water coming from the taps.  4h of continuous water flow a day is surely not too much to ask, is it?

The most joyful shout people make is when the refrigerator starts humming, the fan starts whirling, and the lights turn out.  “Electricity’s here!”

The grossest thing is when you have an open cut on your foot, and it starts stinging like crazy.  You look down to discover that it is black.  You bend down to discover that there are a whole bunch of fruit flies (that’s what they look like) that have landed on your foot to drink deep of your pus.

Ok, I lied.  The grossest thing on earth is to open your bedroom door to discover ants swarming around a dead baby lizard.  There are so many ants that they formed a circle around the lizard.  I didn’t want to deal with it, and everyone else was asleep by then, so I left it till morning.  By then, only the head and an arm was left.

All that being said, I'm still loving it here and I feel like I'm doing what I was made to do.

The Little Girl

“Can I sleep beside you tonight?”

This query from an eight-year-old girl startled me.  I opened my eyes and looked at her round face fringed by straight bangs.

“Well, why don’t you stay in yours?  Look, your bed is just beneath mine.  See how close we are?”

I closed my eyes and continued praying.  The little girl’s younger sister then came to tell me her sister was crying.  I climb down to ground level and put my arm around the silently sobbing girl.

“What’s wrong, dear?”

After a pause, she looks up at me.  “I miss my mom.  I miss my mom every day.”

She then put her head down and continued crying.  I laid my head on her shoulder and couldn’t help but grieve with her.  Later that night, she woke me up several times to ask if she could climb into my bed, and I finally conceded at dawn.  She then lay down beside me, snuggled against me, and promptly fell asleep.

I remember when she came to the children’s home with her 3 sisters.  I was volunteering at this children’s home in the winter of 2009 when they came.  Their mom had passed away from liver failure and other complications. 

This incident caused me to ponder about raising orphaned children.  How do we replace their parents’ love?  Is that even possible?  What does it mean to be a surrogate parent?  I do not claim to know the answer to any of the questions, but I do know one thing: love is the most important thing we can give a child, more than toys, fancy clothes, and delectable food.

My Trek to Work

Squinting, I peer through the sheet of rain to see if the light has changed.  The minute it turns green, I put my full weight on the pedals, hoping to quickly get out of the torrential downpour.  The rain bounces off the pavement, but flows in streams down the disposal yellow raincoat I had hastily thrown on and stopping only at boggy land—my jeans!  The plastic raincoat hugs my skin like saran wrap, sweat on the inside, rain on the outside.  When I go full speed, the rain pelts harder, and I can barely keep my eyes open in the liquid assault.  I breathe in air in short gasps like a swimmer surfacing for precious air and sputter to ensure I don't swallow any water.  I pass a few bikes and even a slow scooter.  Biking beside scooters and cars and dodging buses pulling into their stops has given me the right amount of adrenalin.  

 Finally, I arrive at my destination to wait for 908, the bus that will take me to Sanxia for my 90min par-time job.  The bus arrives.  I swipe my wallet (it contains a magnetized transit card) against the machine and stand beside an empty seat.  I carefully peel off my yellow plastic skin without dripping onto the seat and plop down for a long ride to Sanxia.  I become a human humidifier in my air-conditioned classroom.  My jeans dry by the time I finish class, but my raincoat is still dripping away.  Ironic, eh? 

Why did I take this job?  Why do I spend so much time travelling for such a short time of teaching?  Before I took the job, the verse from 1 Thess really spoke to me: "make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody. "  (11-12)  I told God that I'm willing to go anywhere to work, but He had to open doors for me. 

The next day, I got a follow-up call from the English academy I had an interview at earlier that week.  The wanted me to teach for 90min a day.  I quickly accepted, as I knew this was the job God wanted me to take despite the fact that it didn’t make sense to travel for around 2 hours to teach for 90min.  I know I can trust in Him even when things don't make sense the way a child trusts his/her parent even though medicine might taste funny.

Thus began my daily trek to Sanxia.  The fare for a roundtrip bus ride was $3 because I had to take 2 different buses, but to save $1/day, I decided to ride to the bus that took me straight to Sanxia.  If I save a dollar a day, I can afford to feed a child for a month in India or I could pay for fruit for 8 kids for a month.  And thus began my trek to Sanxia.  I like biking to 908 because I get exercise and I can save time not having to wait between buses.  The fun begins when it rains though.  For whatever reason, there are frequent afternoon showers in Taipei.  For whatever reason, more often than not, these showers begin when I’m in the middle of my bike ride or just half an hour before.

I’m gonna miss the feeling of accomplishment of getting to safety—the sanctuary of the bus—and having my jeans dry quickly because of a combination of body heat and AC in the classroom.

When Reality Hits...

 I was so excited about DTS in the past because of all the things it represented to me.  Although it's a fabulous experience and I'm growing in many areas, I have also experienced a great number of difficulties.  I've anticipated most of them, but enduring them is different than imagining them.  Although my heart is here and I love the people, many times it sounds like I only love Canada because I speak about it with so much nostalgia.  The grass is greener on the other side, eh?  

This last week in Gulbarga has been especially hard for me because of the living conditions.  There are 6 girls sleeping side by side on bamboo mats with no padding or mattress.  This results in 2 things: 1) people with previously pampered backs feel sore 2) people indiscriminately get into each other's spaces when they roll around at night.  Did you ever realize that a twin bed effectively ensures you get your own space?  Now I know.

Living here has given new dimensions to the phrase "running water."  When I heard "running water" in the past, I never thought to ask, "how much water do you get before it runs out?"; "how often does the water run from the tap?"; "what kind of water comes out of the tap?" and other questions like these.  I thought Jangareddigudem was ghetto with running water from 5-11am every morning.  The water comes here one every 2-8 days, depending on how dry the weather is.  We only have 1 water tank, so you have 15 people living off of that water until the water people decide to turn on the water again.  Luckily the assistant pastor lives nearby & he has a bore well, so we can always get water from his house and bring it back.

I've also learned to appreciate drinking water.  For around 12h we ran out of drinking water and for whatever reason, we couldn't get it. It may be because the family that sponsors our drinking water was only providing 1 plastic dispenser of water at a time, and we'd run out of it really fast.  

I've also learned to be grateful for fans and mosquito nets.  We have neither here, so I've been woken up by mosquitoes almost every night.  Solution?  Simple.  Just dose yourself with mosquito repellent 24/7 and put in earplugs from your oh-so-prepared roomie (if you're lucky, she'll share with you with a big grin on her face) to prevent the mosquitoes from humming near your ears and interrupting your sweet dreams.  In all seriousness though, I'm a little concerned about the long-term effects of mosquito repellent on my skin.  Luckily I'll have a mosquito net once I go to Jangareddigudem.

Did I mention how convenient bathtubs and shower stalls are?  In many Asian countries, you just shower in the bathroom & there's no way to keep the water from getting every where, so your whole bathroom floor gets wet when you shower.  I've dealt with this before, so it's not such a big deal.  Showering with cold water and buckets is no biggie either.  What's especially fun about this new experience is the work it entails at the end.  Because of the slant of the tiles--or maybe the misplacement of the drain, depending on how you see it--the water never wants to go down the drain.  Instead, it'll all flow to the opposite corner of the bathroom so you create a mini flood every time you shower.  The fun part is that after showering, you can spend 3 min sweeping water towards the drain using a bio-degradable broom made of twigs tied together with rope.  As you make gallant efforts the sweep the water, it'll gurgle over the drain and recede back to its favourite corner.  It's kinda like making your own tidal wave, ya know?

At first it was extremely challenging to adjust to these living conditions and the late, late meals (2pm lunches & 9:15pm dinners), but the fact that I can write about these experiences means that the healing process has commenced.  Right?

Yes, I do long for home sometimes AND home food, but I rest assured in knowing that I'll be in Taiwan in approximately a month so I can eat to my heart's content.  Besides, most importantly, I know that we can "rejoice in our sufferings because they produce perseverance, perseverance, character, character, hope, and hope does not disappoint."

Some thoughts about the 1st 3 months of my life in India

Here's an interesting conversation I had with a fellow YWAMer the other day.

"I miss hot water.  In Canada, we have hot water all the time."
"Where does your hot water come from?"
*scratch head* "That's a good question.  To be honest, I don't know.... out of the tap?"

Context: I had been taking cold water showers for 2 months and I had built up the habit of bracing myself before pouring the 1st pail of water on my head.  At that time I was washing super greasy dishes with cold water.

It's amazing how we don't know what we're missing out on until we lose it.  I was enjoying so many luxuries in Canada (AND in China) without me even being cognizant of it.

I didn't realize how clean and fresh the air is.  Very rarely will you see vehicles billowing black smoke and breathe in auto fumes while walking on the streets.  After all, there's Air Care.  Who woulda thought I'd appreciate AirCare after coming here?

I didn't realize how refreshing our breeze is in the summer time.  It's so dusty here that a breeze will often carry dust and debris, so I have to shield my eyes from the breeze at times.

I didn't realize how much variety we had in restaurants.  After all, Korean, Japanese, Italian, "Canadian," Chinese (all kinds!), and Vietnamese were just a short walk away from my home in Richmond or a bus ride away in Dalian.  Now I can only dream of eating authentic Chinese food. 

Now don't get me wrong.  I love India.  It's not so much the piece of land, but the people here.  I've experienced so much love and care from the people I've met.  I love the vibrant culture, the bright colours, the hospitality, and the dancing.

Oh, the DANCING!  I had quite a crazy night last week at the Indian-style Christmas program.  After all the dance performances, skits, and the short message, we had a dance party!  It was SO much fun, with everyone dancing together, from age 5 to 60.  I don't like dancing too much in the Western context because it's often sexualized, but I enjoyed dancing in the Indian context immensely.  The girls dance with girls, and the boys with boys.  I also danced with little kids.  Often the women would join hands and dance in a circle, stepping towards the middle for the downbeat.  The funny thing is that 4 people commented to me that I'm good at dancing when I think that I really suck!  Maybe they're just impressed that a non-Indian can dance Indian style. 

Well, that's all for now.  Happy new year to all my beloved friends and family!

10 ways to tell if you are camping...

1. When you use buckets to shower
2.When you shiver from cold water showers
3. When you feel shocked by the feeling of warm water
4. When you use flashlights to find one's way in the dark
5. When you hear obnoxious teenagers early in the morning that are so loud that they sound like they're literally in your room
6. When you do you laundry by hand & dry it in the sun
7. When you clean up after dinner by candlelight
8. When you take a walk after the rain stops & your legs are splattered by mud
9. When your cell phone reception is poor
10. When you encounter animals when you walk around outside (ex. cows & wild dogs)

You may be camping, or.... you might be living in Bangalore, India.

(disclaimer: I am not intending to put down India in any way.  I love India & it is my home away from home.  I am enjoying my experience immensely and am taking the rain along with the sun).

Annie's Story

Through a mutual friend, I met a young woman in her mid-twenties that I will call Annie.  Two weeks ago, Annie and her 2-year-old son came to the YWAM base to pick up me and Catherine.  We took the bus to her home.  I was surprised to see that she lived at a spacious house, but when I stepped in the front door, I saw “Lighthouse” written on the wall.  I found out that Annie works at a YWAM slum school for children between the ages of 3 and 6.  YWAM rents that two-story house for around $200/month to hold the classes from Monday to Friday, 8:30-12pm. 

As Annie made chicken curry and chapatti (like naan), she narrated her story.  It broke my heart.  Annie completed her DTS and SBS (School of Biblical Studies) with YWAM at a young age, and at age 20, she went to Hong Kong to volunteer at a children’s home for orphaned infants.  After a year in Hong Kong, she came back to India.  Her parents arranged for her to get married.  Her parents are devout Christians, and they had chosen a pastor and evangelist for her.  She saw a photo of the proposed match and agreed to it—she knew what she said would not make much of a difference to her parents. 

She met her husband for the first time on the day of the wedding.  This still happens nowadays in India, but it’s more common to meet prior to the wedding and have the opportunity to get to know each other after getting engaged at a formal party.  She moved to her husband’s home and lived with her mother-in-law as well as sisters-in-law.  Annie was forced to do a lot of heavy labour and frequently bullied by her sisters-in-law.  Her husband would demand that she massage his legs until 3am every night, and if she was nodding off, he’d kick her. 

Just over a month after the wedding, Annie found out something catastrophic that changed her life forever.  Her husband had another family.  Apparently, he had been living with a woman for over 5 years, and he already had children with her.  He was forced into this marriage by his family.  His family only wanted the dowry Annie would bring.  He told her that his heart will never change.  If she continued living with his family, she’ll be there alone because he didn’t want to live with his mom.  He showed up with divorce papers one day, and she signed them and moved back to her parents’ home. 

Annie soon found out that she was pregnant.  Humiliated, her family tried to pressure her to get an abortion, but Annie adamantly refused.  Her father roughly woke her up one day when she was 5 months pregnant.  He dragged her to the hospital and demanded that she get an abortion.  Annie did not dare to weep aloud, as she knew this would be interpreted as disobedience, but she was crying in her heart.  The doctor said that if Annie got an abortion, her life would be in danger.  Her father stormed home with Annie.

Annie is now working with YWAM, staffing the preschool and kindergarten for children from slums.  Annie and one of her co-workers live at the base and pay staff fees for their food and accommodation.   I really connected with Annie, and we had great fellowship.  Last Saturday, Catherine and I brought the children that live near the base to the Lighthouse, and we bathed the kids.  Afterwards, the kids got to play with the toys at the Lighthouse.  It was so wonderful to see them play with cars and stuffed animals.  The only other time I saw them play like children was ball at the park.  Please pray for Annie’s finances, as she needs $100/month for her staff fees, as well as her son’s education and living expenses.

The collision of reality and expectations

Hello from Bangalore, India!

I left Vancouver about a week ago and I still feel like everything is so surreal.  Praise the Lord, the trip here was smooth and uneventful.  Thanks to everyone who’s been praying for us.  I usually get air sick, but I didn’t get motion sickness at all this time, despite the lengthy journey of 22h in 4 different planes.

Catherine and I visited Jangareddigudem for 24h and then took a bus to Bangalore for our DTS (Disciple Training School).  While in Jangareddigudem, we attended the dedication of a church, visited the school construction site, and had a pastor’s meeting.  It was so wonderful to see a new church building completed, knowing that will be a place where many people will have the opportunity to meet God face to face.  We also visited the school site and were amazed at how much it had changed since our last visit in Jan.  It’s fabulous to see how the Lord in action, from the school site in Jan 2010 to now, in Oct 2011.

I have now been staying at Bangalore YWAM (Youth with a Mission) for just over a week.  We just finished our first week of class, and class was mind-opening and engaging.  I’ve met a few good friends here as well.  Some of my fears are coming true, however.  The roommate situation has been challenging, as I’m sharing a room and bathroom facilities with 3 individuals from a different cultural background.  They’re very sweet and are always sharing their food with me (brownie points!).  At the same time, they’re super energetic and hyper, and we have very different lifestyles.  When I go to bed at 11pm, they’re often still up and chatting and giggling.  I’ve usually been able to fall asleep, but I’ve been waken up in the middle of the night a few times.

Another thing I’m struggling with is the diet.  I was ecstatic about how cheap my tuition (including room and board) was for 5 months—a mere $950 USD.  Now I know why it’s so cheap.  The budget for our meals each day is a measly 66 cents!  The breakfast budget is 13 cents, and the lunch and dinner budget is 26.5 cents each.  Yes, things ARE cheaper in India, but not THAT much cheaper!  We basically eat a rice diet.  Our meal consists of a LOT of carbohydrates, some protein (in the form of lentils and sometimes chicken) and a tiny bit of vegetables in the form of the tomato and onion paste they use for the sauce of our curries.  I’ve been trying to supplement my diet by buying my own fruit.  Often times I spend $1 on fruit & I feel extravagant :P  Imagine that—$2/day for food!  This week, Catherine and I are going to try to cook some veggie dishes & keep them in the refrigerator to supplement our meals. 

Now I understand why it’s so cheap to sponsor a child in a developing country.  Yes, living expenses and food are cheaper in developing countries.  But it’s also so ridiculously cheap (usually $35-40/month) because the kids usually eat a rice diet.  They consume white rice to fill their bellies.

The internet has been frustrating me.  I have this 3G connection, but it’s SO absurdly slow.  Sometimes a page takes ages to load, and uploading pictures onto facebook is next to impossible.  One can spend a whole afternoon to upload 4 pictures.  I’m trying to figure out what times in the day will have faster connection speeds.

I’ve met some local kids that I’d like to reach out to.  They have had holiday from school this week because of a Hindu festival, and I’ve seen them roaming the streets barefoot a few times.  I was invited to visit their homes and have met their parents.  One family has a 10-year-old boy, 9-year old girl, and a 3-year-old boy.  The 2 older siblings take turns carrying their baby brother around.  For some reason, the baby brother doesn’t smile very much.  His long fingernails are caked with dirt, his hair is dirty, and his shirt torn.  When I asked his brother if I could hold him, the little one reached out his arms to me and instantly rested his head on my shoulders.  My heart melted.  I met their neighbours with a little boy and his 4-year-old sister.  This girl is bubbly and giggly.  Every time I leave her family, she starts wailing.  This family is from Andhra Pradesh, and it’s cool that I can communicate a little to them with my limited—very limited—Telugu (the provincial language of Andhra).

In general, I’m enjoying my time here, worshipping, intercessing, doing chores, and socializing.  There are 23 students in our class, so there are many different groups of people to hang out with.  We also have some characters in our class, so it makes things interesting.