"If you don't ride a train, you won't fully experience India"

It was about 10 o’clock on Friday night when the yellow school bus picked us up from our apartments.  We hopped on and before we knew it, we arrived at the train station.  Now it is vital for you to understand the differences between American Amtrak trains and Indian trains.  Although when I rode the train in America, I was alarmed by the little amount of security or anything of the sort, there was absolutely no security in India.  There was no ticket taking, and no ticket checking even, until we had left the station.  We boarded the train a little bit before the train actually left and our train car was, apparently, the high roller car.  We had AC and we had bunk beds.  Each train compartment was composed of six beds, of which three were bunked on each side.  Since it was a night trip, we automatically bunked and people started to go to sleep.  I was in a compartment with 3 other girls from the ISP program, and we had two random Indian men sleeping below us.  But, let me explain the train in more detail.  The beds reminded me of prison and it smelled like a cattle farm.  Just the smell made you want to vomit.  But, here comes the best part.  The bed I got was the middle bunk and my head was literally right next to the door handle.  So, because of my tall and large stature, I did not fully fit on the bed (surprise, surprise! Its not really like I assumed I would, I mean my legs don’t fit in plane seating), so I took on the fetal position and my head still was very close to the edge.  This resulted in numerous times where my hair was accidentally pulled along with the door handle.  It wouldn’t have been as big of a problem, except that every time the bathroom door opened, a rancid stench wafted into my face, waking me up even more than just the hair pulling.  The stench was accompanied by the unpleasant sounds of heaving and other bodily functions that one should not ever hear repetitively. 

Finally, we arrived at Chennai station at around 7:30 in the morning, and before we even left the station, I could tell that I would appreciate Coimbatore even more upon our return.  Chennai is almost double the size of Coimbatore (Chennai’s population is 8 million people…a little more than this Montana girl is used to).  There were many beggars and children roaming around the station and as we left, literal herds of people were crossing the streets.  It was a little bit of an out-of-body experience, as I felt more like I was living a movie instead of real life.  We boarded a bus and were driven to the guest rooms where we stayed at a CSI (Church of South India) location.  We were served breakfast, which included toast and eggs.  I’m going to be completely serious when I say that it was probably the best meal thus far.  After that, we hopped back on the bus and went to meet one of the most phenomenal women I’ve ever met.  She was in an abusive marriage for over ten years, but, by the grace of God, managed to get out (something very unheard of in this culture) and continued to start an organization dedicated to the empowerment of Dalit women (the untouchable caste).  We had our eyes opened as we learned about a lifestyle that we had not seen thus far.  We were given a welcome ceremony that included snacks, jewelry and beautiful flowers (the Tamil word for flower is “poo”…funny right?!).  The hospitality and love that we were given blew me away and I am still in awe.  After we left the beautiful women of “Foreward” and the slum where they lived, we went to St. Thomas Mount and St. Thomas Basilica.  I still cannot believe that I stood on the mountain where one of the twelve apostles was martyred.  It was mind-blowing, and the view from the top of the mountain was incredible, though it did make me miss Montana mountains and clear skies.  After seeing and experiencing so much, we ended the day walking along a beach, letting our feet catch the tide in the Bay of Bengal.  The following day, we visited Mahaballipuram, a UNESCO site of monolithic rock carvings.  Again, it was incredible.  By this point though, exhaustion had begun to set in and the intense heat of the day was a lot to handle.  So, we spent the afternoon shopping and bartering for great prices.  We were served dinner and then headed back to the train station. This time, our train smelled even worse.  But, we arrived back in Coimbatore early Monday morning, around 5:30 and then headed back to our apartments for a couple hours until our first class at 10:30. 

Literally the minute I walked into our apartments, I knew that I was going to be sick.  We can just leave it at that – I didn’t keep much food down for a couple of days and was shaky and feverish.  No worries now though, I’m completely better now! But, this gross travel sickness was the start to “one of those days” where I just didn’t want to be in India so much.  I decided that even though I didn’t feel well, I needed to go to class.  So, we all got to class a little bit before 10:30 but our professor never showed up, so we just waited around.  She had forgotten and wanted to reschedule for a couple of hours in the afternoon.  See, this kind of stuff happens all of the time in the school system here, but its one of those things that would never, ever happen at home.  So, we were all very frustrated.  We waited around until lunch, but I was so nauseous that lunch wasn’t really an option.  After lunch, I was supposed to have literature but then that teacher never showed up.  We informed the principal that our professor wasn’t there and the principal proceeded to have a meeting with us where she gave us an assignment of 30 minute presentations that apparently our professor had forgotten to mention.  Oh, by the way, our prof never did come.  Scheduling conflicts are not a big deal here, but they drive me a little bit crazy. I remedied the day by going to bed at the ripe hour of 8 pm.

After Monday, things got much better.  I started feeling better and all of the scheduling stuff got itself straightened out.  Overall, it just improved drastically.  Wednesday was another internship day and another rewarding day.  I got to talk to the man in charge of all adoptions through the organization, Mr. Gandhi (yeah, great name right?).  Hopefully I’ll get to go to court and see an adoption go through the legal process with him.  He did tell me something that broke my heart, though, that mentally disabled children are not eligible for adoption in India – it is illegal. 

So, that is a quick recap (or…not so quick) of what I’ve been up to.  We have this weekend free (as in we are staying in Coimbatore and not traveling, but it is a packed weekend, as usual).  Also, the end of next week marks the one-month mark.  I’ve been in India for a month? What? Its hard to believe, especially because time seems so strange here.  In a way, it feels like I have been here forever, but at the same time I feel like I’ve been here for a couple days.  Some days are terribly difficult and some are simply the best.  There is one story I’ve been dying to tell though, so here it goes: I’m taking an Indian history class here and the professor is absolutely hysterical.  I wish I could videotape him because there is no way to describe him.  He’s about 4’9” and calls the class “friends.”  He is really difficult to understand from both his accent (he likes to slip into Sanskrit) and his teaching style goes in circles.  Anyways, the whole class was very lost so he offered to write in colors to make it easier to follow.  Of course we said that would be a great idea so he went out to buy multicolored markers for the board.  He filled about half of the whiteboard and then tried to erase.  It didn’t work, so he poured about half of his water bottle into the eraser and it still didn’t erase.  He turned to us and said, “oh my gosh! It has become permanent!”  It was only then that he realized that he had been writing in permanent marker instead of whiteboard marker.  He then proceeded to keep writing on the board, rather than stop and just destroy half of the whiteboard. 

I love you all and I miss you all! Feel free to send me snail mail, I love it and it makes my day (just ask my family!).  :)

stolen and broken.

...think again! The thing that I had stolen and broken was a good thing; something that needed to be stolen and needed to be broken - my heart.  Before I write about the events preceding this, I must inform you that it has been a long time since I have felt the kind of joy in my heart that I felt yesterday.  It has been a struggle trying to bridge the gap of the language barrier but yesterday I was reminded that smiles are universal and joy is contagious.

 Okay, now let me get to the point.  Yesterday I began a service-based internship at an organization called Families For Children, or FFC.  It is a series of childrens' homes for orphaned children (as well as specializing in special needs orphans).  Because the director of FFC was gone yesterday, I got to spend my day loving children who need it.  The first children's' home that I visited was called Leo's House, a nursery for mentally handicapped infants.  My heart broke.  The children were so helpless and all I could think was something that has been on my heart since my senior year of high school:  there aren't many people out there who are looking for a special needs child.  This haunts my thoughts as my mind drowns in a whirlpool of realization that most of these kids will never have a family, because people want to adopt the cute kids, but not the ones who require even more money and time and attention, not the handicapped kids, not the ones with special needs.  But, to continue, I spent half of my day in a special needs classroom with 5-7 year olds with severe learning disabilities, which is where my heart began to be stolen.  The first child that impacted me was named Rakesh.  Half of his body was paralyzed, so we worked on high fives with his less mobile hand.  He had such a fun time and would just fall into a position of resting his head in my lap.  His happiness and joy was so contagious, and a child's joy was just what I needed to bring me back to a good place.  The rest of the day, I hung out with the other orphans during song time.  They loved singing songs and playing with a newcomer, which just reiterated my gladness and happy heart, making me so thankful that I was there, spending time with very beautiful children.  I recently stumbled upon the quote, "joy is the holy fire that keeps our purpose warm,"said by Helen Keller and I think it does a good job at describing the way that I have been feeling.

Now, let me backtrack to a week ago.  Wednesday of last week was actually my first week of service placement, at a different orphanage.  It went terribly; no one there spoke any English, the kids were in school so I never got to even see them, and, to make matters worse, there was nothing for me to do, so I was locked in a room to "rest."  There was a bed and a bathroom so I spend my time reading Colossians and then took a nap.  I was so downcast and upset and it was the first time on the trip that I really thought to myself, "why am I even here?"  So, in contrast, my new placement was even better, and just one more example (although these seem to come almost daily) that God makes all things work together for the good of those who love Him.

Let me go into the rest of the week, so I can clue you in on everything else that has been going on, which is a lot it would seem.  Last Sunday, after attending a contemporary worship service (where songs were led by students from our school), our whole group attended a service at the Gurudwara, a Sikh temple.  Sikhism is a widely-followed religion here in India, and if you are unsure of what it is, it is a faith rooted in the Punjab region and followers worship a god who is found in their holy book.  The book is treated as if it were a person; it sleeps in a bed in an air-conditioned room, and is fanned when it is out of its room.  Women of this faith are unrecognizable, but the men never cut their hair (not even facial hair), and they roll up their beard hair and, with the rest of their hair, they put it in a bun under a turban.  They stand out; what makes the men even more hardcore, though, is that they carry around a double-edged sward at all times.  The service was really interesting, and I am thankful that I was able to be a part of it, even though it is so far from what I believe to be truth.  The service consisted of chanting worship and prayer, and is followed by a free meal for anyone who is interested in joining.  The Sikhs were so hospitable and I think that people of all faiths, Christians included, could really learn from the love of neighbors that this people group show to their neighbors.  Reaching out to the community as a whole every single week, and putting almost all offering proceeds to the meals is really neat to see and be a part of.  Don't get me wrong, I am surely not becoming a Sikh, but I did respect the ways that they reach out to others and my heart yearned to see that as a similarity of more Christians.  My heart also ached for these people who strongly believe that what they believe is the truth, so, if you feel so inclined, send a prayer out for the Sikh people.

Monday and Tuesday were packed with classes, which are still an adjustment.  Our schedule literally changes every single day and our classes are different lengths each time we have them.  All of the sudden this week homework was piled on and out of nowhere, we were all scrambling to get things done.  For the first time since summer school, I was up late finishing a paper.  I guess that might be a good thing, but only in that it feels a little bit more like normal school.  Don't worry, though, I'm getting stuff done before the deadline, just like I love to do.  I had 4 papers due Monday and got them all turned in today (Thursday).  Score!

This weekend, we will be traveling via train, which, as I have heard, will be quite a unique experience.  I'm ridiculously nervous and equally excited.  So, just wait for stories upon my return.  This week has such a blessing, and God's faithfulness and love has been so evident.  I am so thankful for the opportunity to be here, even though at some times things frustrate me almost to the point of tears.  A couple of song lyrics have been on my mind all day: "Everyday I know that I am learning, so we open up the door, let the music take us further than before, we open up the door, maybe there's an angel standing on the porch." This has been speaking to me because I am learning so much about life and God everyday, especially through the daily struggles and the things I'm going through and wish I wasn't, but I have felt God's presence and seen Him at work, even in the short time I've been here.  Its amazing.

Rakesh and I. 

Slowly Adjusting...

Apparently I'm not so great at blogging. Sorry y'all!

So much happens everyday it seems, although at the same time it feels as though not a lot has been happening.  I guess that means a routine is beginning to set in, which I suppose is a good thing, considering we have started classes.  But, its the little changes that will get ya every time.

The past week has been chalked full of adjustments to life and realizations that I will be living this way for quite a while.  The first noteworthy adjustment is the smog.  As we walk and drive through Coimbatore, I feel as though my lungs slowly become more and more black and full of soot.  Needless to say, I have taken crisp and fresh air for granted in the past, and let me tell you, that will not happen again.

Another change I have been working on becoming accustomed to is sleeping on the equivalent of a large brick.  The first few days, my back killed me but now its just my neck and hopefully that fades.  Our beds are little beds that if you jumped on them, you would surely break bones.  But, on that note, its a bed, in which case, I'm not complaining.  A bed in and of itself here is a blessing.

Next, I am still getting used to bathing out of a bucket and brushing my teeth with purified water out of a water bottle.  It takes a long time go get the shampoo out of my hair, but hey, the cold water feels good on a hot day (which every day is here).

Possibly the most difficult adjustment, as you may have guessed (providing you know me even a little bit) is the food.  Yes, I am a picky eater.  No, it is not easy to be a picky eater here without starving to death.  We eat most meals at the mess hall at school every day (usually for lunch and dinner) and it is the same thing every day.  I refuse to believe that all Indian food tastes like this cafeteria food, because if it does, I'm severely disappointed.  Its not that the food is bad; its just that eating it so frequently is a little bit of a shock to the system.  Everyday the meal is white rice and a yellow sloppy liquid made of lentils.  I keep the yellow to a minimum, so I basically eat a few handfuls (yes, don't forget I eat with my hands now) of white rice.  I'm growing accustomed, and luckily the small store across the road from school sells Oreos for ridiculously cheap (10 cents - 20 rupees - for a huge package).  So, don't worry, I won't starve!

I am still getting used to the fact that women are treated differently here and because of that, there is not a lot to do in the evenings.  The girls that we go to school with have a 4 pm curfew in the hostels.  Yes, 4 pm.  That makes me feel a little guilty for complaining about my 11 pm curfew all of junior year.  I guess it wasn't that bad, comparatively.  On a similar note, it is still strange to be stared at and pointed at every time we go anywhere.  It would be nice to be treated like a normal person, rather than someone automatically given special privileges.  We are trying to fit in through our dress; we wear salwars, which are these very huge parachute pants (and by very huge i mean gargantuan...as in one size fits all).  These are paired with very long dress-like tops (kurtas) and a scarf (dupata).  The scarf is essential, otherwise you are pretty much wearing lingerie, or so they think (you are actually still wearing pants and long sleeves which would be considered far from sleepwear at home).  Oh dear.  They are so hot and every day I just wish I could wear my Nike shorts and a plain old tee shirt.

As far as class goes, we are slowly getting accustomed to standing up when the teacher enters the room as well as being careful not to cross our legs when we sit.  It is highly inappropriate to cross your legs when you sit here, which makes sense when it is explained.  You see, India is a very dusty place; the ground is made up of red dust which gets everywhere easily.  Because everyone wears sandals, the feet get very dirty from that dust very quickly.  In turn, feet are seen as unclean and if they are shown or pointed at people (as systematically happens when you cross your legs), it is incredibly rude.

The small changes are the changes that really get ya.  Its been the little things that have been the hardest for me to get used to, but, slowly and surely its becoming normal.  I've been learning a great deal about living day-by-day, which is something that doesn't come naturally.  I like to have a plan every day and I do not like when things are up in the air.  But, this is India, and everything is always up in the air.  Its all a learning process, and that is part of the beauty.

I have been taking comfort in this verse this week, as I have been living one day at a time:  "Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matt 6:34).  Every time I read it, I can hear Steve Green singing it (flashback!), but even though Steve turned it somewhat into a cliche, it holds such value.  God has my back, and thats really all I need.  

It is currently 5:30 am on Sunday here in Coimbatore.  I guess jetlag must still be affecting me because I am wide awake! Since we have no internet and everyone else is asleep, I figured why not blog? Having to write things and then not post them for who knows how long is proving to be difficult but it will be good for me, just like having to eat food that I don’t love and sleep on beds that feel like rocks and use squatty potties and take bucket baths…its all part of the experience.  So far, I’m loving it, especially eating with my hands.  I’m bringing that back to America with me! Lets be real, who needs silverware anyways? Not this girl.  We have had such crazy busy days since we’ve been here that it feels like we’ve been here for weeks.  Its hard to believe I was actually home a week ago! 

Our days will start falling into a routine tomorrow, as we start school at 9.  It is a rule here that you may not be able to stay in class if you are not present when the teacher walks in.  You must also stand when the teacher walks in and remain standing until they tell you to sit.  So, we are planning on being plenty early to class.  It is also essential to ask permission before taking a drink of water, which will be a big adjustment.  But, it will be so nice to get into a routine over here.  For school, we also have to wear sarees or salwars, as it is mandatory.  To remedy our problem of not having appropriate dress, we went shopping yesterday.  It was easily the most difficult thing that we have done thus far.  It was insanity in the shops and the workers were pushing so many clothes on you.  We went to two different shops and it took a good six hours.  It was nuts and all of us Americans were so stressed and overwhelmed when we left.  To make the whole situation even better, we each have only about one wearable outfit.  Salwars are outfits comprised of huge drawstring genie pants with a dress-like top and a scarf.  Most of the salwar tops that we liked were sleeveless, so we were not allowed to purchase those because they are much too risqué and couldn’t be worn to school or church.  So, I ended up with one outfit that looks pretty much like bright green scrubs.  At least if sociology and psychology doesn’t work out, I can go into nursing without having to buy scrubs! Just kidding. 

Today, we will be attending All Saints church.  It is part of CSI, or Churches of South India.  CSI is comprised of all Christian churches in south India because India didn’t like the division that denominational differences were causing in peoples and churches.  In turn, they all joined under one blanket denomination.  I found this fascinating and really neat.  I think America could learn from that. 

Vanakkam.

…That means “hello” in Tamil.  It is about the only word that I know. 

Six plane rides and countless hours later, we finally made it to India.  Although we were exhausted from all of the traveling, which consisted of only small cat naps in airports, rather than any actual solid sleep, we landed at noon India time and hit the ground running.  A bus and a small crowd of people from Bishop Appasamy College of Arts and Sciences (BACAS as everyone calls it) were waiting for us after we retrieved our luggage.  Not only were students and professors kind enough to come to the airport, but they came bearing roses for each of us.  Needless to say, it was a very warm welcome, and one we greatly appreciated.  The BACAS bus drove us to our apartments, which are in a very swanky, posh area of town.  They are very nice apartments, by India’s standards.  We are split up into two apartments and the one that I am in houses six people.  It is a three-bedroom, three-bathroom (though its probably nothing like you are picturing).  We have a nice little kitchen, dining area, and balcony/porch thing.  I’m sure it will feel just like home in no time.  After we got slightly settled, we had a bag lunch made for us.  Still feeling queasy from the many takeoffs and landings, I only drank the apple juice, even though our lunches were an attempt at a taste of home, consisting of sandwiches and chips.  After lunch, we took a bus tour of Coimbatore.  Mid tour, we stopped for coffee at a local coffee joint.  I opted for chai (the Indian word for tea) rather than coffee.  Thank goodness it woke me up a little, because I was seriously lacking in the energy department, to the point of nodding off to sleep on a regular basis.  We also were given some Indian sweets, which were little white balls that leaked liquid when you bit into them.  To me, they tasted like a soggy paper towel, so I think “treats” like that will take an acquired taste and a little bit of getting used to.  We finished the tour and later had dinner at a restaurant nearby.  We were treated to “family dosa,” a five-foot long fried rice pancake roll, if that makes any sense at all.  If not, here’s a snapshot: 

After dinner, which ended at around nine, we were all too tired to even speak so we took auto-rickshaw rides back to our apartments and were knocked out sleeping in probably 45 seconds.  This is an auto-rickshaw:

Yesterday, Thursday, was our first day of BACAS orientation.  The day began with a bucket bath.  Yes, we bathe out of buckets, and it is actually quite enjoyable.  Shout-out to my roommate Becky for letting me borrow a skirt because yours truly brought none and jeans are not okay.  Breakfast was a bowl of cornflakes, which I don’t normally like, but they hit the spot.  We embarked on our 20-minute walk so school and arrived early to use the internet (since we have no wifi or any connectivity at our apartment), but the server couldn’t handle us all so it crashed only seconds after I got to catch a glimpse of my wonderful family half-way across the globe.  Our disappointment was remedied by the amazing artwork made out of sand that had been done for us.  It was made completely of loose sand.  Here’s what it looked like: 

We had a welcoming ceremony where the principle and heads of departments welcomed us to our new school.  We were presented with tassels around our necks and given a yellow dot right by the throat, although we were unsure as to why.  The ceremony was great, and we felt so welcomed.  Because this is the very first ever India Studies Program trip, the people here are overjoyed to meet us, especially because they have been working on getting us here since 2005.  After the ceremony, we were given coffee and yes, I drank a cup of coffee out of politeness.  Oh boy.  Next, we went to register ourselves with the government, and then headed back to BACAS for lunch in the “mess.”  Something I forgot to mention earlier is that in India, people eat with their hands (but only the right hand – the left is unclean).  So, we ate with our hands a lunch of rice and other things that my taste buds found much to spicy so my lunch was limited to rice.  They did, however, make us mashed potatoes for no other reason than being American.  It was my favorite part of the meal.  Again, oh boy.  The food is going to take some major adjustments.  After lunch, we toured the school and our peer mentors gave the tour.  It was a very long tour and we met everyone, as well as being put on display in the front of every single classroom on campus.  The tour took longer than anticipated and we started other orientation stuff later, talks about safety, health, and important things to know culturally.  We were all feeling a bit jet-lagged and exhausted so we took a coffee and chai break in the middle.  As soon as we were done, we went back to Kandyce and John’s apartment (they are our program assistants) and we had a dinner brought to us by the BACAS staff.  It was chicken and little rice pancake things, but the chicken caught my tongue and throat on fire after one meager bite, so I just had a rice pancake.  We finished up the culture talks after dinner and were in bed by 9:30. 

It is now Wednesday morning at about 7 and we have another long day of orientation ahead of us.  We also have a scavenger hunt (which is a culturally inappropriate name, as there are a people group called scavengers here; no, we will not actually be hunting people) around Coimbatore.  We start classes on Monday and we will be taking trips to other parts of India every two weekends.  I am stoked to get into a routine here and have it start feeling like home. 

A couple of side notes and random thoughts:  For those of you who know me well, you can imagine my reaction when we found a cockroach in the cupboard today.  That kind of stuff is going to take getting used to.  Also, it is not culturally appropriate for girls to be with boys.  Classes are split down the middle and one side is girls and the other is boys and the same is true of the cafeteria.  So, since I won’t be making friends with boys, I guess I won’t come home married.  Sorry to disappoint.  Finally, we have extremely limited internet access so I am not sure how much or when I will be able to contact those of you from home.  But, know that you are missed, and I will be in touch as much as possible.