Me Apna Ap

One of the favorite topics around here is cooking. Back home, I am not much of a cook. I like to cook if I know other people will eat it but when its just me- I am not very motivated. Especially after 12 hour of hospital work. I was tired and hungry and wanted something fast. Lean Cuisine was my best friend.

Cooking is the same thing as breathing around here. So, when they ask me what I cook and I say 'nothing' its like saying I don't draw in air to breath. Its actually a joke with some of my national friends about the content of my diet. My friend last week finally shamed me enough to do some thing about it. She said "you have lived in our country, learned our language and wear our clothes but you don't cook our food".

Well...ya see...I'm a nurse...uh..Lean Cuisine..long shifts....drive thru....uh.... I had absolutely no excuse that would make sense to her.

So today, I pulled out my Indian Food cookbook on a mission! Three hours and a small kitchen fire later, I had made roti (the flat bread they eat here) and okra.

I quickly ran hot buttered roti down to my neighbor Auntie.

"Auntie Auntie menay apna ap roti banaee"!! ( Auntie I made roti all by myself)

"Shabash! Barea Baita" ( Good job! Wonderful child!) She then reviewed each step of the roti making process to make sure I had done it correctly.

I felt like a three year old who had just tried pull -ups training pants for the first time. I'm a big kid now.

The Slums

Today I went to visit the slum area of town with a fellow American family who lives here. The family was reading to their children this week about world hunger. Since we live smack in the middle of poverty, they decided it would be a good opportunity for their girls to give food to the poor. To put it in perspective, about a 1/3 of the nation lives on about 25 cents a day. 1/2 of the kids here are malnourished and 3/4 of the population does not have access to clean drinking water.

As with most things about life here, I had mixed feelings about going. We could fill their tummies for a few weeks but then what? When we arrived, we decided to split up into three different teams. I had a national friend and the family's oldest daughter with me. As we made our way deeper into the slums, the ground was littered with plastic bags and filth. Mothers with babies on their hips followed us around, pelting us with questions. I noticed alot of the kids had sores on their faces and swollen tummies. Flies were everywhere and of course I couldn't help but notice the smell. One image is forever etched in my mind of a little toddler, maybe around 15 months, standing all alone in a sea of trash with her brown eyes giving me a glazed over stare.

We were quickly invited into their homes. And the huts themselves were actually pretty tidy. The floors were swept and things were put away. We sat down and were able to chat with some women and children. I didn't really notice the stench after awhile. Instead, I looked into their faces and learned more about their lives. People are just people after all.

It turns out they didn't know Hindi. Thankfully, we made a little 12 year old friend who could speak Hindi. He translated for us as we went from house to house. At each home, we would distribute food rations in bags and talk to them a little while. One lady wanted to know if we needed our bags back. "no, of course not, you keep it, its for you" we told her.

The oldest daughter that was with me had a bag of her toys she wanted to give away. As we went to each hut, she would carefully select little toys for each of the kids. My heart was touched as she would say " you think they would like this pencil? or maybe this little animal'? Oh... to have the heartbeat of a child!

We ended our visit by singing some songs and telling them a story. They were easy to smile, and laugh. They said we were welcome to come back anytime.

I have alot of undeveloped thoughts about the day. The slums of South Asia have been sentimentalized in countless movies, journels and books over the years. Its easy to get this romantized view of it. Afterall, there is seemingly something altruistic about it. But the truth is- its just really sad, depressing and hopeless. Why would I be given so much when others have so little? Why do I complain when in reality, I have never gone even one day without food? What can I do for that toddler alone in the trash who is equally as precious in His sight? I just want to scream " HE LOVES YOU, HE LOVES YOU." I want them to not only have filled tummies but also eat from the Bread of Life so that they will never hunger again.

3rd Day of the New Moon

This time of year is the season of festivals. Yesterday there was a fun festival called "Theeze" or 3rd day of the new moon. Basically, its a ladies celebration of the monsoon season and new life. Women and children dress in bright colors (mainly green). And all day long they swing on swings! All over the city there were tires hanging from trees and all the parks were full. They have a little song they sang while swinging. Something about quickly quickly the rains are coming. They also decorate their hands with "mehenndi". As you can see in the picture below they get pretty creative with their designs.

Nothing says festivity like a new baby calf. This little guy is only 3 days old.

Here I am at one of the parks. I love swinging so I wanted to join in too!

You Just Never Know

The day didn't start out that great. When my alarm woke me up, I put a pillow over my head in hopes I could wish the morning away. But I got up anyway and went to my tutor's house. On the way there, some boys on a bike decided it would be a good day to harass me. I tried to just concentrate on what was playing on my ipod. But their taunts and ridicule overshadowed the music. So, I screamed at them "you think you are SO cool don't you..well..you're..uh...NOT" (I never was that good at comebacks)

My lesson didn't go that great so I decided to partake in a little retail therapy as Heather calls it. Our favorite mall was having a big sale so I went to see if I could find something new and fun to wear. I did find a few things and made my way home. On the way home, a man on his bike slowed down beside me and asked the time. Why would he be asking ME?? Well..because he really had intentions of stealing my purse. Thankfully, my rickshaw driver caught on quickly and was able to drive me away safely.

I got home and felt pretty low. I fell into an afternoon slump. I was tired of being made fun of. I was tired of being taken advantage of. I just wanted to be done for the day.

But I forced myself to get back out there. I was reminded- My grace is sufficient for you. I walked outside and the weather was perfect. Kids were out playing in the street. "Father, bring the people to me that you want me to talk to this evening".

I have lived in my neighborhood a year. I have walked down our little dirt road MANY times. But this evening, you would think they had never seen me before. EVERYONE said 'hello'. 'Nameste'. 'Hi didi'. A lady who I had never met before immediately invited me into her house. I met her two sweet daughters. I had the chance to talk to them about issues of the heart and we parted as new friends. We promised to meet again soon. I met a few more ladies on the street. They told me about a holiday that was coming up. They wanted to include me in the celebration. Dark was approaching but another neighbor beckoned me into her home. A family member had died. I sat with her in her grief and told her about the One Who Is The Way.

So, I returned this evening with an uplifted spirit. You just never know how days around here will turn out. You just never know.

Pothole Lane

This is what our road is looking like these days. When we first moved in, we lovingly named our road Pothole Lane but this is pothole is pretty extreme don't ya think? Construction in addition to monsoon season makes for an interesting mix.

Significance Found

Yesterday, I was laughing with some fellow Americans about the "encouragement" technique of South Asians. Basically, they let you know their opinion about anything and everything. You're too fat. You're too thin. You don't eat the right food. You don't sweat enough (that's what someone said to me once...for real) When I had typhoid, I had to listen to endless conversations about all the stupid things that I MUST have done to contract it. I was told to put turmeric powder in my hair. I was told to stop sleeping on a pillow. One day, I just go fed up I said 'Look, I just got typhoid, ok?? Its a diseased world and I got a disease. It shouldn't be all that surprising.'

But I appreciate being able to laugh about it with my western friends. "Your nose was too big today? Oh really? Well, my nose was too big last Tuesday..." And the bottom line is, our South Asian friends are trying to be helpful. Its their way of feeling close to us. So, I just have to keep in mind- the heart of the matter. They even have the same 'encouragement' technique for each other. Our language helper is constantly criticized by her family and I see the hurt in her eyes. I told her she was made in His image and she is beautiful. But the hurt still lingered. And I find myself again giving thanks to our Lord. People may point, stare, and laugh.No matter what...no matter what is said to me or what happens, He is our only constant reality. And I don't have to wonder about where my significance is. Because its already been found.

They're Back

Every year, around this time, people in these parts celebrate a holiday called "Cowardth" (Or something like that). Worshipers of Shiva (one of the many gods here) go get holy water from the Ganga river. And then they have to walk it back to their hometown Shiva temple .Once they arrive, they give the water as an offering. The water is carried in these elaborate canisters that you can see in the picture. The journey takes several days and the roads are congested with these rowdy sojourners. Along various places in the road, they have these "pit stops" for people so they can rest, eat, watch some t.v. and then continue on their journey.

Anyway, its not particularly my favorite holiday. They are rude and noisy. Schools are closed, buses are shut down and roads are bypassed during this time. I have gotten several warning from local friends to be cautious these days because apparently the partying can get a little out of hand. Its a bit similar to Marti Gras. In a few days, the party will be over and the normal chaos will be restored.