Books on Community Part 1

I just finished The Irresistable Revolution by Shane Claiborne. I guess a book doesn't have to be inciting to be worthwhile, but it helps. This book definitely doesn't hurt.

I'll give the bad news first, since I mostly enjoyed this book. Mr. Claiborne tells his perspective on faith, community, and following Christ through stories of his experiences. When he does this, it's effective. When he repeats himself, I loathe the apparent lack of an editor.

The false starts at the beginning serve as an example of this. There's a preface, an introduction, and come-on-and-start-telling-your-story-already. Once it gets started, it works well.

I won't touch on all the issues, but he makes some good points. Others seem overly idealistic, but can you really fault a follower of Christ for striving towards the ideal?

I like the fact that he actually went to Iraq instead of just protesting the war. He backed up what he believes with actions and risked his own life to do so. That's consistency.

Part of his reasons for going to Iraq were fuelled by his vision of community. He wanted to visit Christians and churches in Iraq. The point he made was how much we limit community to "people like us". This extends to what kind of job we have, how much we make and what we look like as well as nationality and skin color. Unfortunately, we often become respectors of persons.

As I read the book, I wondered what the "New Monastism" would look like. The community Mr. Claiborne is a part of is in the inner city of Philadelphia. The new monastics aren't cut off from the world, but smack dab in the middle of it. They don't just throw money at the poor, but they spend time with them. They build relationships. They try to actually make a difference.

I called the book inciting, but what I appreciated about the author was his lack of anger. Even when he laments the church's spending more on building projects than the poor, there's no rage. Because, as he says in the book, without love, you're just a protestor.

I'll leave the argument of whether these actions further the gospel to better minds than me. However, I take from this the challenge to speak the truth more boldly and act on what I know is right. If there's no basis in love, I might as well just shut up and sit on my hands.

The Media on Community

I've read several books lately, some I've yet to finish, touching on the topic of community. I'll have more reviews soon enough. In the meantime, I thought I'd list some movies and television shows portraying community. It's been a reoccurring theme for me lately, so I thought it worthy of a series. Here's part 1.

Movies and Shows About Community

1. About A Boy. I love the last line in this movie. The titled boy that this movie is about (one of them since there's two) mentions that family is bigger than a couple in love who makes babies. You need more people to help you than that. You need a community. Good point, weird kid.

2. Lars and the Real Girl. The fact that this movie is so far-fetched makes me sad. A town accepts a guy's inability to connect with real people and goes waaay beyond comfort levels to help him. This film could be shown in churches, but it probably won't. This also makes me sad.

3. Friends. "I'll be there for you." As worthy of an eye roll that is, it's true friendship summed up fairly well. They can be shallow and judgmental at times, but they suffer, giggle and live most of their lifetimes together. For ten seasons.

4.The Lord of the Rings series. It's fun explaining to people that one of the benefits of the extended versions of these movies is extra scenes of, among other things, hobbits eating. Extended scenes of people hanging out! Yay!

Yet, the fact of community is that no matter how unpleasant the oncoming conflict is, we aren't going it alone. And there will be quiet funny moments.

5. Rent. Another group of friends, only most of them happen to have HIV. There are still funny moments in this movie and there's some excellent singing. It's not depressing because they are living together, not dying together.

6. Horton Hears a Who. Not to give anything away, but there's a scene where the town of Who Ville is threatened because no one believes in them. They band together and scream "We are here!" Sometimes, in desperation, a community is a group of people raising their voices together.

7. As Good As It Gets. It's not just about the meanie becoming nice to get the girl. A lot of it is us as the audience seeing the villain of the movie as a person. When he shows kindness, even for bizarre reasons, we have hope. We sympathize, if only for a moment, with the unloveable.

Let me know if I missed any.

Living Evolution Lives

Since Intelligent Design is an issue nowadays (It has a movie and everything!) I decided to dig up a post from a different blog I did last year. Enjoy.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

Survival of the toothpicks

Little things strengthen my faith as a Christian. The invisibility of God and the contradictions of many Christians can be difficult to answer. The second became an issue for me within the last four years. Christians lie, steal and fornicate just like everyone else. More in some cases.
I had a boss who professed Christianity yet broke promises to everyone he knew but me. It was almost as if he couldn't tell the truth. It wasn't his friend, anyway.

I knew kind, gracious atheists and agnostics to counter the poisonous believers. They may have claimed survival of the fittest as a truth, but their lives didn't back that up.

The Creationists, however, were another story. Why did the group who was supposed to believe in Creationism follow Darwinism so well?

A random science fact helped my faith. Yes, science helped my faith. I could have become an atheist a hundred times by now, but the thing is, alligators and crocodiles are different.

Crocodiles don't have tongues. Their teeth should be filled with lunch remains, but they have their own little flying toothpicks. The Egyptian plover feeds on aformentioned foodstuffs in the crocs' mouths. Apparently the crocs are thankful for the service, as they don't touch the birds. It's the only thing they don't eat.

Survival of the fittest says "free snack". But it doesn't work that way.

I guess what keeps me going is those of us who defy nature (sin nature, survival of the fittest) and form actual relationships. It's all the greater blessing to see a Creationist who lives it. I'm thankful for the ones who actually get it.

India Trip Day 9

The trip to Bangkok was a bit delayed. We found ourselves in Bangkok airport, in a long line, on the wrong side of the airport, with forty minutes until takeoff.

We crawled through the line, got our tickets situated in a leisurely fashion, and finally bolted toward our gate.

After an epic marathon without shuttles or moving sidewalks we reached our security checkpoint. Naturally, the keys in my bag looked suspicious so they needed to search my
bag. We had minutes.

After a few of those exaggerated moments that feel like forever, we made it through.
We made it on the plane roughly five minutes before the doors closed. We had a nice five to ten minute wait before actual takeoff, of course.

The main source of in-flight entertainment was my magnetic headphones. They attracted rather than repelled each other. I can't believe I wasted an hour actually listening to them.

Our layover in Taipei was mercifully short. Soon we were on the last plane. When we landed and everyone scrambled for their carry-ons without waiting for the seatbelt light to go off we knew we were home.

We joined the fray and soon enough we made it back to Songtan. Scattered trees and flowers hinted at spring. We picked the right time to come back.

India Trip Day 8

We had our last breakfast of the week with Dr. Roy and his wife. This was a "simple" breakfast, meaning only a ton of French toast and eggs. As usual, they waited until we finished to start eating. It's a custom that took a while to get used to-naturally we got used to it just before it was time to go abck.

We thanked Dr. Roy and his wife profusely for their hospitality and left to meet Shajy, his driver and Shine. We weighed the compact car with our luggage and inched our way back to Mangalore airport.

At one point I saw a billboard with an attractive woman selling some flashy product, probably jewelry. At a bus stop nearby a woman in a birka stared in its direction.

We passed small cities and rural villages along with dogs and plenty of cows. Soon enough we were at the airport.

We thanked Shajy for being a good host, exchanged contact information, and parted ways.

After a brief flight we arrived at Bangalore airport to wait for our bags. Thankfully, it was much quicker this time.

Biju, a former student from Priority One, met us at the door. He called our names and recognized us immediately. We found out later the folks at P.O.I. had sent him pictures of us. That works.

Driving in Bangalore makes driving in Seoul look easy and tranquil.

Biju navigated through traffic on parts of the road I didn't even know existed. At one point he turned quickly and drove between a bus and an old lady. Several occasions like this occurred when I thought "Someone is toast." Still, there were no accidents. Great driving.

Biju laughed when we asked if he was afraid of driving. "Around here it's survival of the fittest."

Later, he said, "I drove (in Bangalore) for over ten years. I know the driver's pulse." I don't doubt that, but I hoped he knew the pedestrian's pulse as well.

Our first stop was a park established by the British ages ago. Big and small trees provided shade for young, old, and hot sweaty Americans.

The large trees branched out like a shadowy many-armed god. I'm not being silly; that's what they really looked like.

Seeing trees like that in a park felt like seeing animals in a zoo. You know you're still in the city. Still, they made a pleasant sight.

Our next stop was the Museum of technology. Push-button displays showed how inventions work. It was authentic, since most of the displays didn't work.

At one point Beka, Alexa and I were looking at a display. A group formed around us, wanting their picture to be taken with us. This, too, was a first and hopefully a last.

Next we went to a craft store and bought a few things. A man with a drum stalked me as we walked back to the van. He paused his sales pitch to ask where I was from. "New York," I blurted, brandishing the accent for attitude and emphasis. It didn't work, but neither did his sales technique.

We had a power outage in Pizza Hut during our late lunch. The power stayed off during the first hour of our visit at Biju's home. No more than an hour later, it cut out again. It ran out again in Bangalore airport. That was three times in a few hours.

During one of the blackouts at Biju's house his wife and relatives took out some candles. Later Anna, their two-year-old, blew one out after singing some version of happy birthday. She tried to grab one, knocking it over. I snatched it, and we both got a little wax on our fingers. No biggee.

Around eight, Biju drove us back to the airport. We watched cows chewing grass on the side of the highway as Joel Olesteen told us to be patient. Biju told us the Cd's
were a gift from an American friend. With friends like these...

Soon enough we were mosquito food again. At midnight, we'd board a plane for Bangkok.

And from there, home.

India Trip Day 7

Shajy and Shine picked us up around mid-morning for a visit to the countryside. We counted cows and potholes as we drove along. I mentioned they reminded me of Philadelphia. The potholes, that is.

At one point Shajy pointed out a large house with a gate in front.
"That man is rich. He owns thirteen buses." He added the owner was a "bad man" and everyone's afraid of him. We took his word for it.

We passed the city and entered a beautiful open area. Shajy stopped the car and pointed out several monkeys crossing the road. They chased each other until a passing truck honked. Then they scrambled up the trees and ignored us as we took advantage of the photo op. After a few good pictures we pressed on.

The road soon gave way to a steep and narrow dirt path. We passed various plants on either side, grown for selling. The farmland stretched for miles.

We came to a level spot in the ground and parked. Down a slim path was a wiener dog, a small hut, and many more trees and plants. Cashew fruits were spread on a mat in front of the hut.

"Be careful", Shajy warned as he pointed to the dog and the step path. He held back the little black dog that was on a chain, warning us that he bites. "Because of the monkeys. They come to eat the plants."

We walked to the hut and Shine showed us an air rifle. For the monkeys.

Shajy showed us inside the hut. It's a good size, since the family sometimes stays there. The kitchen is simple but effective.

He pointed out a good-sized stable connected to the front of the house. The former owners had cows out there so first thing every morning they could see and worship them.

They warned him not to change it. He would get a curse. He said if God wants to curse him, He can. He now uses the stable to store fertilizer.

We left the house and hiked through the farm area. Trees and vines were thick, forming a green shady forest. Bananas, coconuts cashews, mangoes and jack fruits grew on some of them. Shajy would later load his car with a bag of cashews for selling.

A family works on his land and helps take care of it. He said he hired people he can trust.

At one point we stood in an area thick with banana stalks. Shajy explained they should be ready in a couple of months.

Just before we came to India it rained heavily. Shajy pointed out some stalks that broke as a result.

"If the Lord gives, that's good. If He takes away, that's okay, too." He tries to teach his kids the same.

We made our way back to the house to enjoy some coconut. A worker picked up a curved blade and quickly cut holes for pouring coconut water. According to some doctors, all you need is coconut water to stay strong.

More quick blade work and we had coconuts opned for eating, complete with spoons made from the same coconuts. Tom Hanks and the cast of Gilligan's Island would be proud.

The coconuts were soft and sweet. we had two each and called it a day.

Shajy informed us that the land doesn't make a lot of money. His family likes to come over when they need to relax. It's quite peaceful, so I could see their point.

On the way back Shajy carefully avoided hitting cows. Many people in this area worship cows, so it's best to avoid hitting them. I don't recall having that problem in the Catskills.

The ride back was peaceful and quiet excepting the usual honking to alert traffic and passersby of our presence. Shajy sang hymns in two languages, one of them being English. The honks matched the rhythm of the songs as we neared the campus. Soon, we were back yet again.

We had beef for lunch at Dr. Roy's house. I kept myself from blurting, "Can we eat that here?"

Our meals were delicious and huge, but different than I expected. Rice with raisins and thinly sliced carrots became a new favorite. Slightly sweet and light or crispy and flavorful rice cakes were tasty, too.

Shajy and Dr. Roy took us to the beach with their families in the evening. The ocean was surprisingly warm, but swimming wasn't an option in slacks. I followed the lead of most men and rolled them up for wading.

Spectators, swimmers and people riding in boats all wore shirts and slacks (men), saris (women), and jeans (boys and girls). A few spectating women wore birkas. Only a few spectators wore shorts.

Beka, Shine, his older brother Sean, and I took turns flying a kite. Children rode past us on camels. In the sea jet skis and boats, filled with fully-dressed people, bounced on the waves and skipped along. We sat back and enjoyed the sea air for a while, then headed back to the city to pick up some gifts.

India Trip Day 6

The cold water stopped working in the morning. It returned after a few hours. Between two or three times every day the power would cut out. It would take a minute or two for the generators to kick in. When you miss a ceiling fan, that's a long minute or two.

I try to imagine it as part of my daily routine. It's kind of like living in the Catskills, only with generators.

The boys at V.B.S. asked if I eat with my hands. I try several methods, the most popular being like the Skill Crane game at the arcade. It gets food to my mouth, much of it anyway.

This was the final day of V.B.S, so most of the morning was spent practicing skits and songs for the afternoon program. Before that, we sang all the old favorites.

Before that, Ashish cornered me for another interview. We established some basic geography and my profession in Korea among other facts of my life. Meanwhile a crowd gathered around us as more boys listened. I was soon surrounded.

We observed that India has more trees and grass than Korea. I mentioned that because Ashish asked, "How are your surroundings in Korea?"

Good, except for the absence of grass and trees.

"I am a friend of trees," Ashish stated.

Me, too, I agreed.

Several kids asked if we were coming back next year. I hope so. "Remember me," they would say.

The young man who asked to see my camera asked that. I asked his name.

"Denver. There's a city in America with that name."

I agreed.

"Denver is in Colorado."

Denver, Colorado gets bonus points for geography.

After song time we sat and watched each class practice songs or skits. At one point Denver and some friends surrounded me for questioning. I should write an autobiography before I travel.

We asked Shajy what one song meant.
"It's in Hindi," he shrugged. "I don't know Hindi very well."

Soon after that Denver, Colorado tried teaching me some Hindi. The previous conversation with Shajy repeated in my head. Many people don't speak it.

Denver and friends asked me if I like the Mizo song we sing in V.B.S. I told them I did.

"It sounds like 'Summer of '69'," one boy observed.

That song is barely younger than me. I didn't expect a twelve-year-old to know it.

Denver and his song-savvy friend proceeded to argue whether the Mizo song is rock music. Denver argued it is since it's loud.

Denver, Colorado was obsessed with cameras. I asked him if he's going to be a photographer some day.

"No. Computer programmer." he shot back. More responses one wouldn't expect from a twelve-year-old.

We joined the chaos known as picture time around 2:00. As teachers directed kids to stand still, other kids asked us to sign autographs. That was a first, and hopefully a last.

The closing program flew by like clockwork. The highlight was a skit based on the book of life passage. If someone's name wasn't found in the book of life, girls in black came to take them away. The little kids screamed and giggled with glee as boys had to be carried off. They avoided being touched, so thankfully any controversy was avoided.

I was asked to share a testimony time for five minutes. I went over time a bit as I asked what the students learned that week. Shajy forgave me later.

After awards and thanks they sent the children back to their buses.

"See you next year," the children said to us. I hope they will.

Everyone who helped with V.B.S. met one last time. Dr. Isaac pointed out how international our group was. We represented Myanmar, the U.S., and various parts of India. Next year he wants us to return with a larger group to make it more international. If we can, we will.

Dr. Roy mentioned it was another special day-someone's birthday. When he said the name the man was more surprised than we were to learn it was his birthday. "I'll never forget this date," he told me later.

India Trip Day 5

When we met the V.B.S. teachers for prayer, Dr. Isaac, one of the seminary teachers, had something to say. He announced it was Beka's and my first wedding anniversary. What better way to spend it than surrounded by children, he mused. He proceeded to wish us two hundred godly children. I was thinking one or two eventually, but thanks.

Ashish asked where I was from in America. I answered with the standard response of "New York, not the city."

"Is that near New Jersey?" he asked.
Maybe three hours away.
"Is it near Texas?"
Not exactly.
We settled on it being closer to New Jersey.
I wanted to take a picture for the second class. One teacher tried to direct the children to stand together. The boys and the girls didn't take too well to that. I took pictures of the individual sides. It makes a better story anyway.

I spent the entire afternoon preparing a sermon for the evening service. Shajy asked me around four if I'd be willing to share something. I had about two hours.

I told him I could come up with something.
"Be prepared in season and out of season", he replied.
I wanted to say I'm not a preacher, but I don't think that would translate as a good excuse.

I tried my best to write legibly, since Shajy would have to translate the message as I preached.

We decided I could play "Sanctuary" on the guitar for the special music. I'm not a musician either, but see the retort above. No excuse.

It was time for the service. We sang a few hymns, then it was the visitors' turn. I played "Sanctuary" and Beka, Alexa and I sang it through twice. I missed a chord here and there, but somehow we survived.

The V.B.S. teachers shared the popular Mizo song with less shouting. They didn't have the kids for volume. It still sounded great.

Shajy had my hand-scribbled notes during the hymns, roughly ten minutes to preaching.
Them's skills if you can work that quickly.

It was time to preach. I stood behind the pulpit, next to Shajy with our shared notes and dueling microphones. Somewhere between twenty and thirty people looked back at us. I didn't bother to count.

I thanked everyone who worked with us at V.B.S. for being a blessing and mentioned the blessing of being in India. Shajy translated.

I shared a little about our school and the fruits of the Spirit using Galatians 5:16-26. To add some time, I read through some other verses as well. Thank you, cross-references.

I don't enjoy preaching in the least. I prefer dialogue to monologue any day. This night, however, it didn't cross my mind. God said what He wanted to.

I ended with verse 26 and the warning not to be prideful or compare to others. Help each other toward Christ, the common goal. I hope it translated okay.


When it was over, Dr. Roy prayed and we dismissed. Shajy drove us to Dr. Roy's house for a nice late supper.

It did occur to me how unselfish Dr. Roy and Shajy are as pastors. Most pastors I know keep their pulpits locked up like Fort Knox. To encourage a visitor they just met to share something shows a lot of trust. I'm just glad I didn't try it on my own.

While we waited for our huge, delicious meal, Dr. Roy's wife had a surprise for Beka and me. Plum wedding cake. Not content with that, they ushered us up front and for the third time in our life together we fed each other wedding cake. It is the charm, as they say. With plums.

India Trip Day 4

Our V.B.S. experience that day was brief but fun. We sang songs for what seemed like an hour, some familiar and some invented by the seminary students who taught. Young people turned around to see if we were doing the motions. We did our best.

The teachers and children come from different states. One young woman's state has a lot of tribal fighting. "She comes from a rough place," Shajy stated.

Everyone communicated in English. It served as the common language.

Most of the songs were in English. We also sang a song in Hindi, Mizo, Kannada and Malayan. The song leader was born in Myanmar,and Mizo is his main language. That was the most popular song as it involved shouting.

Whether they understood the songs or not, the kids seemed to enjoy them. I'm sure the shouting factored in to that.

The boys and girls sat on opposite sides of the church building. The teachers did the same regardless of where they met. It took a while, but I adjusted.

After singing we followed the teachers of two different Intermediate classes. I sat in one with two seminary students and children ages 12 to 14. At first, I didn't know if I could visit the girl's side to talk. But I got over my cultural ignorance eventually.

Both the teachers were men, so I followed their examples. International crisis averted.

We did two 45 minute lessons. I started the first one and sort of took over the second. Not by choice, mind you.

One boy, Ashish, was equally interested in the lessons and this strange American in his class. He tried to figure out where I live in Korea. After no small effort on both our parts I admitted it's not as well-known as Seoul. He bobbled his agreement.

The bobbles in this group resembled a side-to-side movement. It threw me off at first. I repeated instructions a few times before I figured it out.

For the second class the boys drew a picture of godly people and the girls drew the ungodly people. The godly people were a happy-looking bunch, but most of the ungodly had horns. One looked innocent enough, but a bit grumpy. Under it a girl wrote, "He may kill someone." Okay, that's scary.

After classes we all returned to the church building. It was time for me to share a devotional with everyone.

After we sang a few songs, I heard my name and walked forward. I grabbed a cordless mike and asked the children what they learned. I added 2 cents here and there, but they did most of the talking.

The boys were eager to answer first, but the girls warmed up to it eventually. There were 200 kids, so I can't say everyone had a chance to talk. But I tried to get as close as we could.

As I went to my seat, a young man smiled and said "Good speech." As long as I'm not doing the talking, I agree.

We met with the Vice Principal of Little Rock Indian School. It teaches elementary through high school. The workload is sufficient for students, but the homework is light. That would be nice.

I heard the best reason for having uniforms. Some students may be able to dress nicer than others due to gaps in class systems. Uniforms lessen the issue.

The teachers also wear uniforms at times. It's their goal to model simplicity. The vice principal chuckled as she noted students' comments to parents and in evaluations. "My teacher is simple." I can't recall the last time I considered that word a compliment.

Between classes one and two at V.B.S. the children had recess for a few minutes. One young man noticed my camera and asked, "Is it digital?" No, I replied. It's old-fashioned.

As he replied I realized my error. He said something to the effect of "It's still a nice camera."

I wonder when I started assigning so much value to things. It doesn't seem very simple.

Shajy drove us to his house for dinner. As we got closer to his house the windy narrow roads became more windy and narrow. Once we hit a thin, curved path of dirt we
were almost there. It was dark, so he flashed his lights generously. Thankfully, there wasn't any traffic so we didn't have to pull off the road.

We enjoyed dinner while we admired the art on the walls composed of scribblings. Shajy said that yes, this was his son's work. He couldn't discourage it because maybe Shine will become a famous artist someday. You don't want to hurt the potential.

Other than the artwork we didn't see many decorations. Our host especially pointed out the absence of crosses. Worshiping objects is a big deal in India; Shajy wanted to avoid that.

We asked about persecution. It's more on an individual basis or by extremist groups. The government is more worried about the extremists than anyone else.

We thanked Shajy and his wife, Betzy for dinner. Shajy drove us home, which gave us a chance to thank him a hundred more times or so. He and Shine saw us home, where we waved goodbye, said goodnight to each other and soon slept like logs.

India Trip Day 3

We went to Dr. Roy's house for a huge breakfast. He told us about other ministries Priority One has in other parts of the country. Some missionaries get sued by extremist groups, and some get martyred.

There's religious freedom where we were, but if someone claimed you used bribery to convert people you could end up in court. So Vacation Bible School is plainly labeled and parents pay to send their kids. There's no doubt they know what it is.

After breakfast Shajy, an assistant pastor, showed us around the campus. He pointed out some rubber trees they grow on the property. They plan to make rubber and sell it. Between that and teaching, they're trying to make the ministry self-sustaining. "I don't make much money," Shajy joked at one point. "I'm in ministry."

Dr. Roy made a similar joke when he mentioned bribery. What would he bribe people with?

I thought how we were asked to help teach V.B.S. the following day. I decided I'd try not to bribe anyone.

Westernization is happening here, so some traditions are changing. The divorce rate is rising. However, Dr. Roy didn't completely blame Westernization. Getting a job right out of college and supporting oneself is easy nowadays. So divorce is rising.

Arranged marriages are still prevalent. Due to this even seminary and college students are discouraged from mixing. Boys and girls don't talk together much.

Parents research potential spouses for their children, searching back several generations. They often weigh in jobs as well; many couples here work together. Having the same job isn't required, but it helps.

The American in me cringes a bit at the thought of that much parental involvement, but the parents here take great care with it. In a way, it's kind of sweet.

Beka counted how many rupees we had left that evening. One thousand, or just under fifty bucks. That's what most teachers make in a month. And according to Dr. Roy, teachers make a good salary. It still amazes me how little we actually need.

We met some of the seminary teachers at a restaurant for dinner. We listened as they ordered using three different languages. Everyone knew English, and many knew Hindi.
But people come from different states, and each state has its own local language. Ordering food can be confusing.

In the end we got everything we ordered. At least I think we did.

India Trip Day 2

We were breakfast. We were sitting in Bangalore airport, waiting for our final flight. We had arrived at 11-ish, and we got our bags at 1-ish. We had a few hours to catch shallow naps and be munched on by mosquitoes. Welcome to India.

When we arrived, a seemingly helpful group of airport staff took our bags to our waiting area. Upon arrival they demanded a tip. "$20." We gave them 10.

Maybe if I tipped all the mosquitoes they'd go away. Maybe not.

We spent the night in the airport. Our flight to Mangalore got listed on the board around 8:00 a.m. Nearly an hour later, we were free. Free to fly on another, smaller plane.

We pushed our way out of the plane and entered Mangalore airport, a cute little thing. We weren't quite sure how we would identify our contact. We collected our luggage, headed for the exit and walked to the man holding the cardboard sign with "Miles" written on it. That works.

We shoved all our luggage into a reasonably compact car and sealed ourselves in for the ride. Babu, a teacher at the seminary welcomed us as the driver introduced us to Indian driving.

He would drive on the left side of the road and cross over to pass slow-moving rickshaws. The ability to do so without colliding with oncoming traffic impressed me. More impressive is the fact that even slowing down seemed a last resort. Good driving.

As we drove down narrow windy roads and my ears were still popping from the flight, Beka and Alexa asked Babu some good questions. We saw big and small buildings next to each other. Were they houses?

Babu said that yes, they are. The rich and poor share neighborhoods.

The miles and miles of area we covered between the airport and Priority One India is fairly rural. We saw palm trees, cattle and wonderful, sweet grass. Green is so my favorite color.

We stopped at a restaurant for lunch about halfway there. We chatted with Babu while we ate for several minutes before we noticed something unusual. We all used silverware.

"Don't you use your hands to eat?"
"Yes, we like to," Babu answered.

He put the fork and the knife aside, and we tried to follow suit. The waiter seemed especially amused with my attempts and offered me a spoon. I smiled sheepishly and tried using my hands anyway. Eventually I cleaned my plate.

We rinsed our hands in bowls filled with warm water. There were lemons in there, either to help clean or to avoid dishpan hands. I'm not sure which.

During the last leg of our journey we saw a tent village. We saw kids standing out front, and I caught a glimpse of some older people as well. My stomach sank.

We arrived at Priority One and met Dr. Roy. He led us to the Windham House, the place we stayed in for the week. At first we were surprised to see marble floors. Was this a ministry? We found out later that marble is much cheaper in India.

We took naps, enjoyed some delicious spicy fish, curry, and pita-style bread for supper, then slept some more.

India Trip Day 1

I had the "why I am I going somewhere- there's plenty to do here" crap rattling in my head for a solid two days prior to leaving. It's an indication that this trip was going to be great. It happens every time; I should be used to it by now.

The highlight of our flight to Hong Kong wasn't the movie. Michael Clayton couldn't compete with the tireless struggle between our flight attendant and the curtain. He got tangled, food cart and all. "Let me out!" he exclaimed. He eventually freed himself, claiming the victory. For a while.

Once in Hong Kong we had to leave the plane so they could clean it. We would board again an hour later. Helpful flight crew met us to hand us pieces of plastic with "Thai" written on them. Not satisfied, they slapped stickers on us that said the same. Properly labeled, we were ready to go.

The in-flight entertainment from Hong Kong to Bangkok was a little Indian girl. To any what-does-it-matter-where-she-was-from/we-are-the-world types who may exist, it matters because we're going to India. So there.

The poor child screamed her lungs out for takeoff and landing, but the rest of the time she smiled, waved at us and applauded a seatbelt. Fun stuff.

During the course of our four hour layover in Bangkok we treated ourselves to some BK. Somehow we ordered the KING size. Apparently, we said "Yes," to KING when the girl asked medium or KING. We interpreted it as "Medium OK?" I think we've been in Korea too long.

Sorry we wasted you, food. Please forgive us.

Thoughts on India

We just got back from India on Sunday evening. Monday morning I had that surreal experience of entering my classroom and thinking, "What is this? This isn't my classroom." Whenever I come back to a place after a long trip, it seems like everything has been moved and turned inside out. I know this wasn't the case, but that's how it feels.

I can say without overstatement or cliche that the trip was a life-changing experience. We were uniquely stretched in ways both good and bad. Most of the bad involved big cities and airports, but that's just life.

It's funny how God works. You think you have a good idea of who you are, and what you can or can't do. He waits until you're fairly secure, then He subtly knocks it down. Something new happens, and you get to face a new challenge. You grow. You learn you really didn't know yourself so well after all.

I'll do my best to share the details in a series of posts. Until then, enjoy life.

Just for giggles

We're off to India in less than 24 hours, but before that I thought I'd share a funny video from the Onion. Enjoy.



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