I'm Dreaming of a Skype Christmas

So yeah, Christmas not at home…it’s hard.  You know the first time you are in a new place and you wake up and then you think, “So this is what waking up here feels like?”  Well I have been in India for 3 months, but yesterday when I woke up I had the same sensation.  “So this is what it feels like to wake up anywhere but at home on Christmas morning.”  All in all, Christmas day happened with very little tears.  I can’t say the same about the Greater Christmas Season (that is, December), but there’s nothing strange about that. 

While my emotions demanded anything from a complete Christmas fast to finding the biggest live evergreen in India to chop down, I think that God has helped me to find a happy (and culturally appropriate) medium.  I like lists.  So now I will list Christmas things that I actually DID do:

1)     Oodles of Christmas music

2)      Apple Cider, Mulled Cranberry Sipper, Hot Chocolate, and Chocolate Chip Cookies

3)      Last chapter of A Christmas Carol (Let’s face it.  The whole thing is good, but I know the story.  I just want the part where Scrooge can’t stop laughing and turns into a Christmas boss.)

4)      Charlie Brown Christmas

5)      Miracle on 34^th Street with Hot Chocolate

6)      Christmas Eve dinner out at a fancy restaurant with Christmas music and waiters in Santa hats.

7)      Specially selected green and red Salwaar Kameez.

8)      Grandma’s Sour Cream Coffee Cake for breakfast

9)      Skype present opening with the parents
10)  Christmas present opening with a four year old (a truly unique experience)

11)  A huge homemade Christmas dinner (well, lunch)

Today, to continue the Christmas spirit, I received 18 Christmas cards in the mail.  Boom.  I guess that this year Christmas will really be stretched out because I have been told that more is on the way.  Who knows, Christmas may just last until I go home.  Then it will be like Christmas Day all over again. 

Thank you for all of your love and prayers and cards.  Good thing that the event of Jesus’ birth is independent of my living situation.  Jesus still came whether I live in India or America or Antarctica or under the sea.  He came.  

Stuff Indians Say

(And internal American gut-reactions)

 

“Come.”

(“Don’t tell me to come.  I’ll walk when I want to!”)

·         This is something that almost everyone says when leaving a house, crossing a street, or getting in any vehicle

“You know, the fat one.”

(“Yes, I know, but why do you have to say it out loud.”)

·         This is accompanied by what I would call ‘chicken wings’ made by extending the elbows.

·         Also, this goes along with a general openness about commenting on my weight.  Just this week I have been told that I have “become thin” and that I have “put on weight.”

“Where it is?”  “Why you are laughing?”

(“Where WHAT is?” “Well, tell me…”)

 

·         Included in this category are all questions with the verb and subject un-inverted.  This is probably because in Hindi, a question word is just added to the sentence without changing the word order.  Also, there is a general lack of the word ‘do.’

“It helps the digestion.”

(“But, how?”)

·         The reasoning behind eating almost anything is because it aids in digestion.

“Let’s make a move.”  Not to be confused with, “Make a motion.”

(“Moves like Jagger?”)

·         The first means “Let’s Go” and the second means, well, you know…#2

“Do you want to get fresh?”

(“Not with you I don’t!”)

·         This is commonly said to someone after they have arrived at your house following a journey of any length.  The American translation would be “Would you like to freshen up?”

“What to do. (?)”

(“Do with what?”)

·         This phrase means “But what could I do?”  or “I can’t do anything about it.”

·         Example: “That monkey charged me, so I threw my banana at it.  What to do. (?)”

“So are you going to marry and Indian man?”

(“Are YOU going to marry an Indian man?”)

·         This response was thought, but not said, in response to a nun asking me this question.  I have also had numerous friends and a dermatologist ask me this question. 

 

They Aren't Scary

I want to write about people.  Different people.  People that aren't like me and probably aren't like you either.  They weren't raised in a cul-de-sac.  They have probably never set foot inside a church building.  They don’t know what Sonic is.  But they are people.  I have something very simple to say about them: They aren't scary.

Here in India I have encountered more variety of people from more geographical origins and more religious beliefs than I ever have up to this point in my life combined.  I have watched them.  That may sound creepy and maybe it kind of is, but I just want to share a couple small pictures with you.

Sikhs

My next door neighbors for the past 3 months are Sikhs.  In the few times I have interacted with them this is what happened:

-The father brought chocolates for Jeremy and Angela.

-The family attended Jeremy’s birthday party and gave him one of the coolest toys.

-The youngest son and daughter came to Angela’s birthday party.  While there, the boy entertained the group of maybe 35 for half an hour with his magic tricks and antics. 

-The daughter always smiled at me and says hello when she rides past on her bike.

Muslims

On a train to a nearby city, I was able to sit behind a large Muslim family.  Yes the father was wearing a white tunic and skull cap.  Yes the mother and daughters were wearing burkas.  This was probably the cutest family I have ever seen.  The smallest boy was precious, with his big chocolate colored Indian eyes.  The family adored him as they passed him from lap to lap.  The father’s adoration was most obvious.  He would grab the small boy of maybe three and kiss him over and over and over again as he squealed out little giggles.  Then the father would point at me over his shoulder (as a white girl, I do stick out).  The little boy would grin at me and then dart behind a family member.  This game proceeded off and on for the next 5 hours.  Precious.

All I have to say is: They aren't scary.  They aren't out to get you.  There are people. They need Jesus.

Parmeshwar ne Chidiyo ko Banaya

This past week was a big week: Thanksgiving and Jeremy’s first birthday.

Thanksgiving Highlights

What a busy, crazy, and thrilling day.  Almost everything that happened on this day was noteworthy, but I will try to condense it all.  Our meeting at one of the top hospitals was extremely successful.  We will be renewing our contract and will be working together in the weeks to come on an advertising campaign.  Unlike the meeting the day before in which our business contact couldn’t stop yawning and rubbing his face, these business people were extremely accommodating and friendly. 

Next we got McDonald’s and ate it in the back of a rickshaw.  Extremely hilarious.  I can only imagine what ran through the Indians’ minds that saw us: Cokes sloshing and ketchup dripping in our business suits speeding through traffic. 

I also got Henna, or as they call it here, Mendhi.  I feel so cool.  It is like I have a tattoo, but with no pain and no real commitment.  Thanksgiving dinner was an incredible spread considering our resources and our only oven being a toaster oven.  I stuffed myself with sweet potatoes, mashed potatoes, green beans, roasted chicken, bread, corn on the cob, reconstituted cranberries, stuffing, pumpkin soufflé, apple crisp, and sparkling mango juice.  Best of all, I got to skype with my family. 

Jeremy’s Highlights

In India, the first birthday is a big deal.  I’m not talking cake and presents with a house full of guests.  I’m talking 200 guests in a rented hall with catered food and a meticulously detailed program. 

I got to see people that I have only met once or twice.  I also got to meet new people.  Because of my camera, I was dubbed the photographer.  So I spent most of the night snapping pictures with an intermission of bathroom runs with the little girls.  The night was a blast, but let me tell you…schmoozing takes it out of me.  I was totally pooped.

PS-This week I also read my first Hindi sentence that I understood.  It is the title of this post.  Translation: God created sparrows.

 

Who Knew?

Diwali

So this past week was Diwali, the Festival of Lights.  This is celebrated by firecrackers (lots of them), lanterns everywhere, Christmas lights, colored sand designs in front of doorways, and lots of sweets.  It celebrates the return of the beloved king turned Hindu deity, Ram, from exile.  It is also celebrated by work and school holidays.  Some of the brothers came up with the idea to have a 2 day seminar about being light to the world. 

Of course this meant planning full two day seminar with notice of a day and a half.  We had a nice turnout and it was a very encouraging time.  At the end of each day we had a candle lighting ceremony.  We learned/sang songs about being light and it was a very moving time: Faces aglow with candlelight and Indian voices booming in the small room. 

On another note, I have discovered that I am not impervious to culture shock.  There, I said it.  Lately I have been feeling easily agitated and tense.  Also, I want to sleep all of the time. 

“I don’t experience culture shock.  I’m above the normal human experience.”

Well, out of curiosity, I just googled “culture shock” and clicked on the Wikipedia article.  Rather comical.  Talk about a mirror.  You should do this.  The timing isn’t quite the same for me; I think that mine has been accelerated.  Read the section on transition shock.  Ignore the last two points and the word “suicide.”  This description is rather accurate.

“What do you know…I’m a human.  I’m not just a rock wall that is completely resistant to influences of culture and location…Who knew?”

Coping mechanisms of choice: Two days alone, Work, Chips and Salsa and Queso, Quesadillas, Apple Cider, Christmas Music, Long walks

The "O" Word

The content of my previous blog entries has been relatively informative thus far.  Although slightly out of character, I feel the need to express to whoever a string of consciousness involving something called Feelings.

This past weekend I was able to visit a hospital in our part of the city.  The hospital also supports an orphanage for HIV orphans from the ages of 4-16.  A group of ladies and myself went to just learn about what they do and how the workers their serve.  All of the orphans are boys.  All of them are very cute, but it takes a while to get them to smile.  The youngest, Joseph, hardly talks.  He was abandoned in the jungle at 6 months old and was found by some fishermen or something.  Anyway, we just sat and folded paper airplanes which the boys promptly turned into objects of war.  More smiles, some giggles.  Little bit of eye contact.  At the time, I didn’t know that all of the boys were HIV positive.  After leaving I found out. 

We walked over to the hospital and talked about the treatment of the boys.  I had many questions about this because of my time in Zambia.  The government of India just gives Anti-Retroviral medication for free.  Free.  This allows the children to live into young adulthood.  The boys have emotional problems the older they get because they understand that something is different about them.  They won’t live as long.  They are sick even though they don’t feel any different. 

My thoughts.  Why is it that some kids are born in India and they get proper medication and others are born in Zambia where there isn’t?  Why is it that any kids are born with HIV?  This is so unfair.  What about all of those Zambian babies that I love that were buried simply because of their parents choices in a country with poor health care?  Maybe they have it better  What must it feel like the first time you realize that you will die young, that your life was determined to be cut short even before you took your first breath?  I hate it.  I hate it for the babies who don’t grow up in Zambia.  I hate it for the children that grow into adults who face their ever shortening life with no parents to love them.  I hate it for babies left in the jungle.  So many babies.  I hate it for all of them.  So much. 

I encourage you to think about what Jesus speaks into the life of the orphan.  Use a concordance and just look up the word “orphan.”  I am still learning.

Nepal News

So Nepal is an amazingly beautiful country.  If you ever get the chance to go there, you should.  The government is not paying to say this.  I speak of my own volition.  Noteworthy things about Nepal include but are not limited to:

Time

I thought that India Standard Time was janky with the 10 ½ hour time difference from Central Standard Time in the US.  Wait for it…Nepal is 15 MINUTES later than India.  Why even bother?

Language

Nepali is closely related to Hindi with some similar words and structure.  It also uses the same script.  This means that I can read street signs and billboards, but much like Hindi, I have no idea what they mean.

Mountain Math

3 Tallest Mountains in US:

-McKinley, Alaska, 20,320 ft.

-Saint Elias, Alaska, 18,009 ft.

-Foraker, Alaska, 17,400 ft.

3 Tallest Mountains in the Annapurna Himalayan Range:

-Annapurna I, 26,545 ft. (10^th Tallest in the World)

-Annapurna II, 26,040 ft.

-Annapurna III, 24,787 ft.

[Creative names, I know]

Greeting

Namaste is used more in Nepal than in India.  It is accompanied by the “praying hands” gesture in front of your face.

Marriage
Customarily arranged marriages are the way to go in Nepal, much like in India.  However, I was unprepared for an older brother who approached me after church services in Kathmandu.
"Are you married?"
"No, I'm not."
"Stay here and I will find you a Nepali man."
"Well, we have to go back to India..."
"Don't marry an Indian man.  They only want your money.  Nepali men aren't like that."
"Ok, well...[insert mumblings about how I'm happy and I have to work in Mumbai, so I can't stay]"

P.S.

You may think that I am high maintenance and whiny, but I would like to publicly state just how much I loathe leeches.  They are disgusting creatures and I hate them.

Transportation: A Review

                 Auto rickshaw

Used mostly for short distances.  Found in both the black/yellow and green/yellow variety.  Legally seats three adults.  Open air.  Fun level: 9

Bicycle rickshaw

Used only in some Indian cities.  Usually blue with grandma fabric awning.  Tight squeeze for two adults with bones.  Open air.  Seats slant forward.  Fun level: 8

                  Local Train

For travel within a city.  Cars include, but are not limited to: first class, second class, first class ladies, second class ladies, handicapped, and baggage cars.  Best time to travel: early morning or 2-3pm.  Rush hour is a beast.  “I won’t mind your armpit in my face, if you don’t mind my armpit in your face.”  Fast trains don’t travel at a higher speed, they only stop at major stations.  Slow trains stop at every station.  Fun level: 5-7, depending on crowd intensity

      Metro

Only found in one city.  Soon to come in others.  Rides above the city with beautiful view.  No food or drink allowed.  Super clean.  Super European.  Super smooth and fast.  Fun level: 8

 
            Sleeper Train

For travel between cities.  Bumpy.  Train food: average but definitely edible.  Seats turn into 2 or 3 tier bunk beds.  Deep sleep won’t be found here, but the time is still restful.  It is like being in a really long cradle with a hundred other babies being rocked back and forth. It is also a good place to meet new people.  Fun level: 7…8, if you use the Indian style toilet on the train

      Tonga

In Nepal, the equivalent of a horse drawn rickshaw.  Bumpy and prone to swerving.  Awning limits view to road if facing backward.  Seat slant.   If you fall asleep, you may fall out.   Fun Level: 5

      Bus

Both for local and long distance travel.  Varies from smooth to incredibly bouncy .  Passengers vary from humans to goats.  Air flow varies from AC to open air.  Beware dust and pollution.  Fun Level: 6

Walking

Not for the faint of heart.  Look left first before crossing.  Hand extended from hip means, “Hey, I’m walking here.”  Sometimes walking in the street is safer than walking on the sidewalk.  Open air.  Best way to meet people.  Fun Level: 8

            Elephant

Most recently discovered form of transport.  Forget the notion of comfort.  Beware branches.  Water to land vehicle.  Open air.  Best view of jungle.  Fun Level: 9

Guess Who's Going to Dinner

I want to tell you a story:

Our business associates came to visit us from another city.  They came overnight on a train and all four of them (three were children) shared a train bed.  In their compartment was a man who snored louder than any human should be able to snore.  While the children could sleep through the sound, the mother, Jill*, could literally feel his breath coming at her.  Jill recounted, “It would have been terrible except every snore was different.  Each time I wondered what sound was going to come out next.”

While this man may have been a nuisance during the sleeping hours, he was a huge blessing during the waking hours of the train ride.  He spent several hours playing Go Fish with the children and entertaining the baby. 

I hadn't met this man, but I had heard the stories and rumors of his extreme decibel range.  However, a week and a half after our friends arrived for their visit we decided to accept the invitation to have dinner at this man’s house.  After driving in circles around a certain area and asking at least a dozen times where his building was, we resigned ourselves to going by foot.  While we walked, we found someone who could lead us to the building.  He was so friendly and his family seemed genuinely excited to see us.  The first thing that hit me as I walked into their flat was the penetratingly sweet smell of incense burning to an image of a Hindu god. 

They served us a wonderful dinner composed of all of the favorite dishes that my friend and her children had told him about on the train.  We met their sweet Pakistani neighbors for a bit.  But we spent most of the time just chatting with the man and laughing at the babies.  The man, Kasan*, told us about his career as an engineer.  But his secret passion is cooking….which showed in the excellent food.  Kasan also is a passionate educator and told us several stories about his students. 

We talked about Jesus some too.  He told us that his favorite thing that Jesus said is to be like little children.  Kasan had really pondered this and seemed to understand the depth of that statement.  Before we left, we offered a prayer and song for his family.  In return he pulled out this beautiful wooden flute.  Soon we were whisked away into his enchanting melodies.  I had forgotten just how much I love live music.  We hope to have Kasan and his family over for a meal soon. 

This is just one example of the kindness of strangers in India:  Met on a train.  Invited strangers into their home.  Made wonderful food and music.  Talked about Jesus.  Left as friends.

First Things First

If I were to sit here and type out all of the “first” experiences that I have had….well, you would get bored and skim to the end where I would have some kind of conclusion and witty thought.  So to spare you the details of my first shower in India, my first Chai in India, and so forth, I will simply record some of the most notable.

My First Solo Excursion

I decided that I needed to get a card for a friend and that I needed to venture out into the neighborhood on my own.  While this may seem so adventurous, you must understand that Tammy* sat me down and drew me a detailed map to the card shop first.  With my map in my bag and something slightly less active than butterflies in my stomach, I whisked myself out the door before I could get nervous.  The card shop is literally a 5-10 minute walk from the house, but along the way I could just look around.  I had no children to hold on to or other people to talk with as I went, so I could just look.  It is amazing how much more you see just by yourself.  It was a nice little moment with just God and me.  The shop owners were so kind and even asked if Tammy sent me.  I got two cards, one for good measure.  This is a little embarrassing in retrospect: but I was so proud of myself.  Proud in the way a baby is when it first stands up...

My First Hindi Rickshaw Directions

After a wonderful corporate retreat in a suburb of our city, my business associates and I were coming back to our neighborhood in the city.  You must understand that between all of my business associates, there are eight children.  So traveling in crowded trains and rickshaws is quite the adventure.  When we arrived in our area at the train station, we still needed to take a rickshaw back to the house.  We all scurried to shove our luggage and children into two rickshaws and hopped in before they had a chance to tell us no.  As soon as we started driving, however, I looked around the rickshaw.  Then I asked my business associate who was visiting from another city,

“Do YOU know how to get to the house?”

“Well, I should…but, no.”

“Uh, ok…I’ll do my best.”

Everyone who know how to get there all ended up in the other rickshaw.  At first I didn’t know if I could do it.  But then I started to recognize landmarks.  I had seen Tammy do this a dozen times.  So I just started spouting out directions in Hindi.  Magically (actually by the Lord’s provision), we made it straight home with no problems.  Nothing like necessity to figure out how to do something.

First Ganesh Festival

So I’m not a pro at explaining this, but I arrived in India on the first day of the Ganesh festival.  I think it spans the course of 11 days.  Every night there would be dancing and firecrackers in the streets around a large Ganesh statue.  It is a time of extreme idolatry.  On the 9^th and 11^th days everyone takes their Ganesh to a body of water to immerse it.  These are called immersion days and the traffic from them is terrible.  Just imagine maybe 8-10 million people all flocking to the water at one time.  So strange.  So sad.  To echo the words of a very wise 4-year-old , “I will never ever bow down to those statues.  Only bow to God!”

 

*The names of people referenced in this blog have been changed to protect the brothers and sisters in India.

Both Feet

That is what I have jumped into India with.  I was sweetly welcomed at my arrival by purple flowers, a taxi ride full of four-year old snuggles and giggles, and a basket of goodies.  Upon arrival I also found out that our trip to another city the next day would begin at 3:30 the next morning. 

“Ok, I can’t sleep anyway. Besides, who needs sleep? Weaklings, that’s who…the next couple of days will be just like college.”

I would write more of my experiences on the train, in rickshaws, eating Masala Dosa, meeting new Indian brothers and sisters, but the day was very surreal.  Yes, everything was completely new and other-worldly seeming.  But also, jet lag is a monster.  That combined with extreme caffeine withdrawal really puts everything in a haze.  I do remember being very happy and excited though. 

Indian perception of Americans

Conversation with an Indian man sitting next to me on the train:

Man-Are you from this country?

Me-No, I’m from America.

Man- Are you with Barak Obama?

Me- Well he is our president.

Man- Oh yes, the First American.

Me-Uh, yes…sure.

Man- Is there only one occupation in America?

Me- No, we have many occupations.  Doctors, lawyers, engineers…

Man- Where do you get food?

Me- We grow it.  Or we import it….

*This man’s thoughts do not represent the opinions of the entire Indian population.

 

Needless to say it is very nice to be on the up and up after the jet lag.  Also, I have managed to avoid Delhi Belly…which, if you know me, is quite an accomplishment.

 

 

Tidbits from Travel

I’m here.  So strange and yet so natural.  Everything is new, but somehow it feels vaguely familiar.  Then again, I have only been here for a few hours so…we’ll see.

People I Met

·         A group of precious oldies, who acted like they had been friends for ages, were on their way to Ireland.

·         One teenage girl from Mexico, with a giant sequined sombrero, was traveling for a student exchange program in India.  She sat in my row with one empty spot in between.  She was traveling alone.

·         One girl my age who is taking some time off from school in New York to travel in India because her dad is Indian.  She was traveling alone.

[CONFIDENCE BOOSTER:  If a high schooler and a college student can go to India alone, I can certainly get through customs alone!]

 

“What’s going on in there?”

There was this older man on my flight that used the same restroom stall several times.  At least a couple of times he couldn’t figure out how to open the stall door.  This resulted in his banging like crazy on the door from the inside until someone broke it open for him to get out.  Poor guy.  It is no fun being locked inside a bathroom stall…been there.

 

Sleeping

So, it is kind of hard for me to sleep on planes.  I slept a little, but mostly just sat there or read….for 15 hours.  At one point I looked around the dimly lit cabin.  All of these Indian people were just cuddled up and sleeping.  Some had blankets pulled up to their chins.  Some snored.  Some laid flat down across a row of seats.  All so sweet.  I found myself at that moment with a deepening affection for them.  People look so sweet while they sleep.   

 

Quotes from internal voice

·         About certain dishes of Indian airplane food, in my mom-of-a-toddler mentality: “You have to eat this.  It will build character.  Get used to it and get over yourself...Good, now three more bites of that.”

·         “Be strong and courageous.  Everything is going to be fine.  The Lord provides.”

·         As we touched down: “Don’t freak out.  But, you’re in India.”

 

 

 

 

FAQs

Do you even like Indian food? / What will you eat?

Yes, I actually do.  And I will eat it…with a smile.  Even if I don’t like it, I will eat it with a smile because that is what polite people do.  And people who don’t want to starve.

On purpose?

No, this is all the result of thousands of irreversible typos during a grand internet surfing expedition. 

Oh, you are going for business? Are you working at a call center?

No.  Contrary to popular belief there is a myriad of commerce that takes place in India completely unrelated to the IT field.

Do you speak Indian?

No.  Actually nobody does.  Indian is not a language, it is a nationality.  If, however, by “Indian” you mean one of the 22 official languages of India, then the answer is still no.  But, I hope to learn some Hindi. 

Well, there they are.  My top four frequently asked questions with responses.  I hope you enjoy.  This should be a very interesting time of learning and growth, adventure and exploration.  So consider this your invitation to join me.  To come will be stories and tidbits about my time in India.  I can guarantee that there will be some stories of my little cultural bumblings, my little victories, and my little portion of the story of the kingdom of Christ.