Wanderings and Wonderings

Saturday in Kalimpong is market day, when the Heart Bazaar is filled with vendors: fruit, vegetable, spice, hardware, housewares, clothing, shoes... anything. As the sun rises it fills to the brim with people. The crowds flow like water through the windy streets occupying any empty place available.

Usually on Saturday mornings I hide under the covers for as long as possible and then creep out to leisurely drink coffee in my pajamas. Once I am ready to meet the world, the town and bazaar are too busy and too full to be an attraction to a western girl who sticks out like a sore thumb above the sea of dark brown heads. 

I have always disliked looking out of place. Quite vividly I remember, from the missions trips I took to New York City when I was in high school, hating to feel like people could just look at me and see that I was not a city girl. Not that I want to be a city girl, I just didn't like the feeling that I didn't belong. Though I still try to adapt to the culture and fit in here, I have resigned myself to always be an outsider. Saturdays are suppose to be restful and I don't often find being stared at and sized up by an endless number of brown-eyes (no mater how beautiful they are) very restful. 

But this Saturday was different.

Maybe it was the fact that I hadn't gotten out of the house much last week, or the fact that I am getting nostalgic as I mentally prepare to leave Kalimpong in just a month, but either way this Saturday I was drawn out from underneath my covers and down the hill to town, all before 10am.

I didn't have much of an agenda or shopping list. I just was hoping for some time to wander, think, and take photos. (I really wish that I could take photos with my eyes. Again I hate standing out as "that tourist” taking pictures of things locals would NEVER think about taking pictures of. Plus sometimes there is just not enough time to get the camera out... then that perfect moment, that exquisite image is gone.) As I meandered along the street I saw a precious sister. I have only met her once, but the love and light of our Savior emanates from every part of her. Seeing her face and bowing slightly in greeting as we passed, sparked my prayers for Kalimpong. 

I walked on and talked to the Lord about his heart for these people, his heart for this city. Then my eyes came to the other side of the road, the less crowded side, where two sons walked gently quietly with arms linked with their father in-between them. The father was quite hung over from a late night of alcohol. I imagine how the wife and sons had fretted and worried until he was found. Now they had to walk him home and get him sobered up, attempting to save as much face as possible. This scene sparked even more prayer... “Father thy Kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

I looked up and saw it, a cross. 

Atop a dirty little shack that sells fried snacks, noodles, and chips was clearly a cross, not put there intentionally but left there somehow from old electrical poles and shrouded with tattered Buddhist prayer flags, electrical wires, and dead vines. This image shouted to me, “The Kingdom is coming! I AM is already at work here. Watch and see.”

It also spoke to me of how tradition in the church and Buddhism have constricted the free movement of what the Lord wants to do here. Like the old raiments of a beggar, neglected, stinking, full of holes, and good for nothing, the remnants of stale tradition in the church and the spiritual strong holds of Buddhism need to be torn down from this place before a fresh spirit of revival will be free to flow. 

 

But even still I know Christ is here and he is moving. 

The Real India: Walking Slowly

I came across this unfinished blog post from when I lived in India. I think it was written almost exactly a year ago. Even though they seem from another life, these images from India still haunt me and call me to come back to the hills. 

[March 2013, Kalimpong, West Bengal, India]

 

As as person from the West I tend to organize my time aiming at efficiency and productivity. I am definitely not the most productive or efficient person by a long shot, but this question is always in the back of my mind "how can I get the most out of my time and energy?"

Here in the hills of India (and probably in the hills of Nepal also) the parting phrase is "walk slowly," "bistanu janu hos." It is used as the equivalent of my family's (and maybe your family's), "drive safely." Most people in the US, beginning at sixteen years old, drive and have their own car, or at least have easy access to one. No one walks anywhere if they don't have to, even just to visit the neighbors in the next street and definitely not to go grocery shopping.

In the hills most people, especially women, walk. If you are male, then maybe you have a bike (Indian for 'motorcycle'). If you are female maybe you have a husband, brother, or son, who has a bike or a "taxi" (maruti mini van, or tata nano). But most people just walk up and down, down and up.  

Walking is the way of life.

When you go for vegetables or groceries you might get a coolie to carry them back up for you. Depending on how far you are from town, a dollar or two will get your veggies home safely without you having to haul them. But only those who buy a lot of veggies at once or those who can afford the luxury will utilize coolies.

You will never see a woman coolie. These men and boys carry everything with a rope and a basket on their back.The rope goes underneath what they carry, the load goes on their back, and the free loop of the rope (usually it has some fabric and a cusion) goes across their forehead. These men don't earn much and have to work so hard. They usually sport old but clean and tidy clothes and wear worn plastic slip-on shoes on their broad feet. Many of them are clearly and proudly Nepali, which you can tell from the round brimless fabric cap they wear.

I am sure that the families of these men would never see as much food in their homes in a month as these men can carry on their backs, up and down these hills (well maybe if it were only potatoes and rice they carried).

I am still slowly learning so much about these people of the hills. I am really coming to love these people. Learning the language has helped but I need to get out and to speak more. There is still so much I feel I will never understand.

"Bistanu janu hos," "walk slowly." The pace of life here is so different. Time is relished... not measured and forced to obey. Here people seem to experiance time like sitting on a rock by the Teesta river, watching and feeling the water move past. The Western view of time would be more like the dam that was built a few years back which controls the water flow of the river and puts it to work as it moves past. I think I would rather spend my life soaking up the sun in good conversation sitting at the bank of the Teesta.

Rest is something that seems to be reserved for the rich... at least in the West. If you don't want to be perceived as lazy, you have to seem busy. "So what are you doing now?" is the question that drives common conversations. But this is not the life we were made for. 

"And then He rested." God rested. After he created everything we know and are discovering he rested. He didn't party. He didn't plan out the rest of the existence of eternity. He rested 

As beings made in His image we need rest. We are commanded rest. All the commandments, including rest maybe especially rest, are for our good. He commands us to rest not to stroke His ego, but because we are created to rest.

This is one of the things I miss about my life in India: having rest built in to the culture; being told to walking slowly. 

The Beginning of Something New

A few moths ago I didn't think it would have been possible. This month has been such a good reminder that nothing is impossible.

Last Saturday I rode down the mountain in the rain, sitting with my mother next to me in the taxi. I was dropping her at the airport after she spent four weeks with me here in India. It was a dreary day with threats of thunderstorms and landslides but by God's grace they ended up only being empty threats. This ride began Mom's 24+ hours of travel home, and began my last two and a half months in India.

When I came home in 2011 from two months in Delhi working at Asha House, Mom told me "next time I am coming too." I knew that she is a woman of her word, but I also knew that God often changes our plans, so I tried not to hope too much. When I heard in February that she wasn't going to be able to come, I was disappointed but not crushed. After just a few weeks (and a dark lonely time for me) things changed.

She originally thought she couldn't come because the family needed her too much at home. It is true that they do need her, but half of them are Boy Scouts and more than half of them are adults, so with their scouting skills and life experience combined they decided to make it work. Mom made the decision to come, got her passport, visa, plane ticket, and came in less than two months.

Some of Mom's time here was spent sight-seeing (it is nice to have had an excuse to go visit places I haven't seen yet and places I wanted to see again):

Sweet Ladies we met on the Train to Jaipur

Amber Fort- Jaipur

Mom's first monkey sighting- Jaipur

Juntar Muntar - Jaipur - ancient sundial -those Moghals were pretty brilliant

Fresh lime soda and Aloo Papadi Chat at the City Palace Cafe

This guy serenaded us over lunch - now that was an awesome mustache , but I am not sure what kind of instrument

Took a short trip to Tea Town- Darjeeling

Happy Valley Tea Estate

We got to see where they sort and process the tea. There was a green floral delicious smell that permeated the whole building.

View of Darjeeling from Happy Valley T.E.

Breakfast at Keventer's. Sausage and bacon, more meat than I have seen in months.

A stop at cozy Glenary's before we went home. Tea, quiche, tarts, and a rainy day.  

Darjeeling clock tower and a break in the clouds.

Cactus Nursery in Kalimpong - who knew there are so many species 

We dashed up to Delo Hill (the highest point in Kalimpong) on the ONLY clear day to try and catch a glimpse of  Kunchenjunga. We caught just a sliver before it hit behind the clouds again. Anyways it was a beautiful day. 

Walking Trail on Delo Hill 

Dr. Graham's Homes Church build in 1920. We wandered through Dr. Graham's Homes property on the way back from Delo. 

Dr. Graham's Homes - Boarding school founded in 1900 by Scottish missionaries for abandoned children   

Some of her time here was spent meeting my wonderful friends and encouraging them (she had seasoned homeschooling advice for me as well as the other homeschooling moms):

We spent six days at Asha House. Mom got out of the taxi when we first arrived knowing at least half of everyone's names from pictures. 

Mom with my Asha girlies- what a beautiful thing

 Making hats with friends on Jeewan Loy's Birthday

Silly Friends and Bhim Uncle

Surrounded by friends, love, and yummy treats.

Our friends from Germany treated us to barbecue chicken. They made their barbecue from a metal box and a grate... brilliant.  

Some of her time was spent doctoring me and being substitute teacher (I was quite sick for more than a week with bronchitis or something like it):

Sorry didn't take any picture of me sick in bed. This one will have to do. 

Beef Thukpa- just what the doctor ordered

Mom read "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe" to the kids. Once I was better we has a "Mr. Tumnus" Tea Party including Queen Cakes.

What a pretty spread. Jeewan enjoyed the tea party, but didn't quite get the idea of using manners. Manju loved it and kept saying that this was "the best day ever."

Most of her time was spent encouraging me like only a mother can. Just a hug from the woman who knows you best can work wonders for a weary soul.

Our time together seemed like the beginning of a new era in our relationship. Mom who always knows what to do and always has a ready plan was now in new territory, a place where I had more experience and understanding than she did. Though she is a 'planner' Mom is also flexible, so this new dynamic did not set her at ill ease. Instead she thrived off of the adventure of this new country and fresh season in our relationship. Sometimes you just know when your life has hit a turning point. I think this past month was that for both Mom and me.

I am excited to see what new things the Lord has in store for us: for me as I spend another few months here, and then transition back to the states, and for Mom as she goes home and learns to integrate the things she learned here into her life at home. As I make my transition back to the states it is going to be invaluable to have someone back "home" who has gotten a glimpse of my life here.

The Real India: Life of Luxury

India is a huge country stretching from Pakistan all the way across to Myanmar and ranging from China and the Himalayan Mountains down to steamy Sri Lanka which almost brushes the equator. There are 28 states each with its own culture, language, history, and struggles. Even a native of India can only see their dynamic country through one pair of eyes and set of experiences. So the quest for the “true India” seems quite impossible and illusive. Once you begin to understand something about this culture, you discover something that throws a monkey wrench in your original hypothesis. This was really true during my trip to Delhi in February.

Flying into the Delhi airport felt like I was coming home, back to the familiar. When I am not in Delhi I crave when the plane I am on begins the decent into the Gangetic plain and I know that I will see my Asha family soon. This trip was different because my primary reason for coming to Delhi was something other than spending as much time as possible at Asha House. I did get to spend some beautiful moments at Asha House, but the focus of this trip was different. I was primarily there to be a support to a friend who was there to do some battle with the Indian bureaucracy. Because we needed to be in closer proximity to the government offices, we stayed with different people my friend knew in South Delhi and Gurgoan. This was not the part of Delhi I knew.

South Delhi is transversed by wide roads lined with lush greenery, and divided up in tidy sectors named with the letters of the English alphabet. In these cozy sectors you can find apartments and houses with gardens out front along quiet streets. The luxury cars (lot of imported Hondas) parked outside are meticulously being washed by the owner's hired driver. Just around the block is shopping area where you can get groceries, vegetables, photocopies, school books, and anything else you might need. Even though it is walking distance most people can afford Rs.10 to take a auto-rickshaw ride. If you are too lazy for even that you don't even have to leave your house. All you have to do is call up the store and they will deliver everything from rice and potatoes, to chicken, to potato chips and cold drinks (Indian English for soda). You also are able to order delivery of any kind of cuisine thinkable: Italian, Mediterranean, Chinese, McDonald’s, Domino’s, North Eastern Indian, South Indian, and the typical Northern Indian fare. In this neighborhood there are no beggars on the streets or dirty children playing in the dust. There is a gated play ground for the children of the neighborhood to play in with monkey bars, swings, and slides all painted cheerfully.

I don't know exactly when it started hitting me, the fact that the Delhi I knew was not the one I was experiencing, but if definitely hit me that I was in another world when I stepped into DFL Place Mall. This is actually one of three super luxurious malls that are built almost on top of each other. The only way you can tell that you are going into a different mall is because you have to go through a security check when you cross from one mall to the other. It is like having three malls larger and fancier than South Park right on top of each other. The other two are called Select Citywalk, and MGF Metropolitan Mall. Google it if you don't believe me. Honestly I had a hard time believing my own eyes. THREE luxury malls.... why in the world? May in Dubai but not in Delhi.

My friend and I were at DFL Place to meet up with someone. We were staying at someone's house in South Delhi so this mall was a convenient meeting place. We got there a little early to wander around and get some ice cream. I found a frozen yogurt place (what is a luxury mall without frozen yogurt?) and was pursuing the menu overwhelmed by the Western amount of options, when a young girl pushed her way past me right to the counter, literally pushed me. Flouncing her hair and adjusting her designer bag she tried ordering the largest thing on the menu for her and her boyfriend. The guy behind the counter seemed embarrassed because of her actions and helped me first because I was technically next, but the girl tried thrusting her handful of Rupees toward him to try to get served first. In my head I was wondering if this was really happening and what I should do. I would expect this sort of thing from the Delhi that I knew before. In this country everyone pushes and shoves to get what they need. There are no tidy queues(lines) unless there are police to enforce them. Even with this there is usually some extra courtesy shown to foreigners. I am not saying that I deserve extra special treatment, but I didn't expect to be treated so very rudely especially by a female and one much younger than I am, and on top of that inside a mall that seemed the pinnacle of “civilized India.” This girl seemed to think the world revolved around her. I thought that was a western thing... maybe it came as a bonus with her designer purse. I got yogurt but my head was too much in a whirl of culture shock to really enjoy it.

The entire mall (really malls) experience was the most culture shock I have been through so far. At first I thought it was reverse culture shock (because these malls were so western), but I am not quite sure that was quite it. This was still India, but such a totally different India than I ever expected to experience. Since being in Delhi I have read a book called,“The Beautiful and The Damned: Life in the New India,” by Siddhartha Deb. In this book Deb examines the lives of businessmen, farmers, activists, and women in this country that is so rapidly changing. This man who lived for quite some time in NYC and seen western self-centeredness there, gives his own account of wandering around DFL Place Mall:

“ I was still wondering why I had been unable to enter the Paul Smith store. I didn't normally go to designer stores but when I had ventured into some of them in New York out of curiosity, I hadn't felt such unease. Somehow, I was more exposed and vulnerable in Delhi. This wasn't because it would be apparent to everyone in the shop that I couldn't afford to buy anything- because that would be pretty obvious in Manhattan too but it mattered to me in Delhi that people would know, as if the very objects would sneer at me for daring to enter their space. In the West, with its long excess of capitalism, it might be possible to scoff at luxury brands. They had been around so long that they had lost some of their meaning. But in India, luxury brands still possessed power” (Deb, 240)

Reading this hit on the head what I had been feeling. I felt out of place not because everything around me was reminiscent of the excess of the West but because because there was a strange pride and power that oozed from every shop, kiosk, escalator, display, and the people who strolled around wearing designer clothing and shopping bags emblazoned with luxury labels on their arms.

The India I knew was one of the orphan, the leper, the beggar, the persecuted pastor, the struggling family; the India of the people who appear as a faceless nameless mass to the people cavorting in DFL Place. I knew in theory that the India of leisure and luxury existed, but to see it with my own eyes, to smell the sickly perfume with my own nose, to feel the perfectly cold AC on my own skin, to taste its delicacies with my own tongue, was something quite unnerving.

Work Cited:

Deb, Siddhartha.“The Beautiful and The Damned: Life in the New India.” Viking by Penguin Books India. 2001  

The Real India: Intro

If you have been keeping track of me and my blog posts for the past 6 months, I am sure that you have been disappointed by the general lack of exposition on Kalimpong, India, and what I am observing about both.

In a tourist guide to India I read last year it said something like “the more you know about India the less you understand.” This has been very true of my experiences the past months. The more I see and learn, the more realize that I cannot fully know of understand this country or its many peoples.

I haven't written much about of my insights or observations on India and its culture on this blog yet because I feel ill-equipped and unqualified to do so. I am looking at things here through the dimly lit kaleidoscopic lens of being a foreigner in this place, I get glimpses of the dark and light of reality but they are all jumbled up and out of context in my perception. What furthers this handicap is my experiences are quite shallow. I feel that in this cozy house, 

tucked up on the mountain side, 

surrounded by a fences, 

buffered by school grounds and the principles house and gardens, 

which rarely looses power or has water problems, 

where I eat dahl and rice made by our cook for lunch,

but am treated to American dinners and baked goodies in the evenings, 

that I haven't earned a right or a place to comment on the culture and country that I am living in.

The garden in the front of our compound

Though I feel unqualified to comment at all, I am still going to attempt to share with you what I am learning about this strange wild beautiful country I am living in.

Check back for posts in a series I am calling “The Real India”  

Nepal

As well as taking a trip to Delhi last month, I also took a short trip to Nepal.

Kalimpong is in a tiny northern finger of India that is wedged between Bhutan, China (Tibet), and Nepal. Nepal is just 4 or 5 hours drive from our house in Kalimpong. From Delo Hill, the highest point in Kalimpong at 5556 ft above sea level, you can see China, Nepal, Sikkim (one of the hardest to reach Indian states), and Bhutan. Most of the population of the Darjeeling District (which includes both Kalimpong and Darjeeling) are ethnically Nepali. The Nepalis here have been fighting for a long time to have their own state within India, Gorkhaland, so they can get better representation in the government and to have more control over the Darjeeling area.

My visit to Nepal was essentially for my visa. With the type of visa I have I need to leave the country every six months. Originally I would have had to stay out for two months before I could return to India, but just last year they changed this law. Coming to India I wasn't quite sure what I would do about this issue, but as He always does the Lord made a way.

Nepal Border

The German family who we are close to also needed to also go out for their visas. All we really needed to do was cross the border, fill out papers, and come back to fill out more papers, but the lady I am staying with knows a family who runs a school in a town just 45 minutes from the Nepal border. She arranged for us all to travel together and stay at the school for a few days. 

The Principle's Quarters Where We Stayed

At the border there are four forms for each person to fill out. That meant coming and going, I only had a total of eight forms to fill out, but the German family, with their four children, had forty-eight forms.  I really commend the families who choose to come live in places like India to serve the Lord. Just the paperwork alone is quite an ordeal. Living in Kalimpong and getting to watch different missionary families has given me a great picture of the ups and downs of living as family in a foreign country. 

When we crossed over in to Nepal all the kids started looking around for Mt. Everest. Can you find Everest?

Vehicles cannot cross the India/Nepal border, so when we got there we had to take everything out of our Indian vehicle and find another vehicle in Nepal to take us the rest of the way. When we arrived at the border we learned that there was a strike that day and no taxis would be running for another hour. So we made a huge pile of our bags, brought out snacks, and hung out on the side of the road for an hour (maybe it was only 45 mins, because Nepal is 15 mins behind Indian time). Jeewan Loy and his best friend Maxi played football with a soda bottle, and we befriended a goat who was trying to get to our snacks. Got to love missionary children. Who needs iPods and video games when you have a soda bottle and a goat?

Chilling at the Border 

Kick the Bottle

The children all enjoyed the huge school swimming pool. When we arrived, even before finding our rooms, the children inspected the swimming pool. They found that there was a kiddie pool as well as the large pool, and both of them had slides. Voluntarily the children all went to bed early because they couldn't wait to wake up and swim the next day. They spent and entire day swimming and everyone besides Manju and Jeewan Loy got sun burnt.

Swimming Pool

Mexi and Jeewan Loy- Best Buds

WATER SLIDES

Nina and Manju

School Assembly 

We stayed at the school for the four days with the principle of the school and his family. They were wonderful hosts. Their son, Vaskar, was just home from Austria. He went to bible school in Europe and is married to a girl from Austria. He was coming to find a place to live and get things set up for them to move in the fall. Vaskar and his wife are also going to be starting a Kindergarten school in a nearby village. We were able to visit the house that they have rented for the school and were able to pray over it. Vaskar also wants to get involved in helping churches both in Nepal and India. Through him we got to meet a pastor in this village and visit church building that the congregants recently built with their own hands and finances. It is exciting to see people who are really committed to spreading the gospel, and challenging believers to really live a biblical life devoted to following Christ. Over these four days we had some great conversations about cultures (eastern vs western), education, revival, the state of the church in Europe, India, and Nepal, and various other topics. It was such encouragement to me, and just at the right time.

Future Kindergarten 

The Pastor and Vaskar

The Church

At the end of our stay the girls found a adolescent pigeon who had somehow gotten out of its coup. The school had a few pigeon coups attached to the second and third levels of the buildings. This little guy couldn't fly yet and so he couldn't get back up there on his own. The girls were quite worried that the principle's cat, who was quite pregnant, would try and make this pigeon her dinner. Somehow I couldn't see a very pregnant cat as a highly threatening predator. But anyways the girls made a little nest for the bird, gave it water in a coconut shell, and watched it carefully guarding  from the cat. They were quite sad to leave it when we had to go.

 The area we were in Nepal was not so different from the part of India we had just come from. The culture was pretty much the same. The economy is struggling more and people are poorer. Though the similarities there was something different that I couldn't quite put my finger on. Maybe I will have to go back and spend more time there someday. We shall see what God has in store.

Overall the trip was a success.We had no issues with the visas (thank you so much for your prayers). The children had a great time. Us adults had some great conversations and encouragement (more to come about that). It was refreshing for all of us all to get out of our normal lives for a few days and get fresh perspectives. 

Here are some more pictures:

Typical House in this Busti (Village)

Hindu Holyman Texting on his Phone

Vaskar Bargaining- Lindy and I trying to look less-white so Vaskar can get a better deal 

Rickshaw Time

Sunset and the Road

On the Road

Most of the photos in this blog are courtesy of Harry Weiber