Day Three

Eating in India is not good if you are on the Atkins diet. I have had more starches today than I can remember. Remembering what I had is fairly easy. For breakfast, lunch and dinner I had Indian flat bread along with a garbanzo bean gravy. To eat it, you tear a piece of flat bread (looks like a tortilla) and dip it in the gravy, pick up a garbanzo bean and eat it. The gravy is made with a spicy gravy and that was a different taste and texture for a breakfast meal. For Dinner, we went to a nice restaurant and had a traditional meal that consisted of different varieties of flat bread and two different tips of mild to spicy mixtures to dip the flat bread in. I do love the food here, Bud, Tony and my dad are not so fond of it J In the morning my dad, Jeffery and I took a taxi (mini cooper size) several miles to our next location to meet. Tony Bud Wilma and Matthew took a train to another location. Our taxi drive (as every taxi ride) was an adventure into another world. We arrived at our drop off point and walked a few narrow streets to a small alley. On our way, we passed by a stand selling fresh fish. Most of the fish were covered with flies and the lady at the stand wasn’t even trying to shoe them away, that is how many there were. It is sights like these that touch my heart and cause me to realize that this is a difficult country to live in. I have learned that the people of India are very smart people. Almost everyone speaks at minimum two languages and the majority seem to speak at least 3 but understand up to 6 or 7 languages. It is not uncommon for people to speak 4 languages fluently. They are also a very strong people, this is a hard place to live. As we walked to the church, it was above the pastor’s home (don’t get any ideas). We could hear the people singing and worshipping as we approached and the pastor came and greeted us and asked us to come and sit in his home for some morning tea which we did. After a short time, we climbed the ladder up to the worship area and found a room about 12 feet by 20 feet long. It was tiled up the walls about 4 feet and the floors were ceramic tile. The ladies sat on the left and men on the right. They were all sitting on the ground cross legged. I found out that these people were from southern India from the State of Tamil. They brought us to the front of the church and gave us some plastic chairs to sit on but quickly moved us to the middle of the room as they put up an EID banner up front. As I looked at the people worshipping, I could not sit in a chair for the next seven hours while they sat on the floor so my dad and I chose to sit on the floor. We sat there cross-legged and in various adjustments to that position all day long. Yes my butt was numb and my legs became numb and the muscles were being stretched in new ways. Before some team members taught, the pastor greeted us and through a translator we learned that we were the very first foreigners in his church and that he was humbled that we, coming from the US would choose to put ourselves on their level and sit on the floor with them. My heart would let me do nothing less. It was an honor to be with them, worship with them, learn with them and get our lives nourished spiritually together. As we left the upper room there, we needed to get on the road but the pastor asked us to join him down stairs for tea, so we did. Then, another pastor asked us if we would please come to his home and meet his wife. This was pastor Solomon who had interpreted for me all day. It said it was a short walk and so we went. This took us again into another part of India that blows my mind. As we walked to this pastor’s house, I saw two little boys squatting on the roadside defecating right out in public without a thought. People were passing by without a thought. As we walked deeper into the his neighborhood, everyone knew that we were foreigners and the inquisitive looks were constant, especially from the children. Pastor Solomon’s wife and three children greeted us. This would be the first Indian home that I would enter. Pastor Solomon told us that in the floods of several months ago, his home was filled with seven feet of water, he lost everything. As we entered the home, we had to lower our heads. The first room was 10 feet by 6 feet and seemed to be just a sitting room or storage room. We entered the second room (and only other room) which was their bedroom. There was a loft that you could climb to if you got on the bed. This bedroom was 10 feet by maybe 7 feet. In that room, we crammed 3 plastic chairs and sat and talked for a while. The walls were made of cement that had a light blue coat of paint where the finish coat of the cement was not rupturing off from having been under water. It was a humbling experience. The taxi ride home was simply a fast paced Disney ride with real danger at every turn. By the grace of God we have not been in an accident. I simply do not have the words to explain the feeling of driving on the roads of Bombay. This is certainly another world. We are not in Kansas Toto!