Saturday, February 14, 2009

Feb 9th

On Monday, our plane departure was scheduled for 430a, but we are being acclimated to IST (Indian Standard Time). These sort of things allow stretch our need to be more flexible in the midst of our to-do lists and nicely ordered world.
Upon arrival to Nagpur we hit the ground running. Our dear friend Samuel and the gracious Ashok met us the at the airport and whisked us to a ministry center, where we enjoyed song, prayer, and short devotion. I must say the hospitality of the Indian people is first class. They are gracious and humble servants. They always put others first and top the whole experience with zest of amazing chai, delectable fruit, and even tasty biscuits (cookies).
We all agreed that Nagpur is not nearly as chaotic as Mumbai. It was refreshing to see some semblance of order and a glimpse of respect for traffic etiquette. Granted this moments were few and far in between, but the flashes of light through the throngs of vehicles were welcome relief.
Having left Mumbai early, introduced to fellow servants of Christ, as well as seeing a large portion of Nagpur it was nice to sit down for lunch. Our lunch took place at a little restaurant called “Planet Food.” (Not to be mistaken with Planet HollyWood, or its cousin, Planet BollyWood). Naan, Fanta, Dosa, Tomato soup, and something else I can't remember the name filled our palette. We also were introduced to one of Pastor Eric's favorite desserts, Barfee. It was interesting; kinda reminded me of Applets and Cotlets, but after one I had enough. Surprising enough some in our group were not brave enough to taste barfee, we will not name, names, but I am sure you can guess who.

If our journey for the day was not enough, we drove another hour or two and arrived at Ghandi's Ashram. As a curious onlooker of Ghandi's life, it was worth the opportunity to tour his former abode. I must say I was surprised that it had the feel of a western ghosttown and a museum. I mean no disrespect, but the place was lifeless. It was like the model of living he exuded and practiced never left the walls of this center of non-violent, non-cooperation. As a matter of fact, Pastor Samuel informed me that many Indians hold him in high regard, but believe that the religious and life principles he fought so dearly to bring into the culture of India, was by and large, unrealistic and unattainable. Upon hearing that assessment, it reconfirmed the reality that no matter the attempts of humanity to be righteous on their own accord it will be met with discontent, disappointment, and disillusionment.

And yet our day was not complete until we travelled another hour or so to arrive at a FM hostel in a town called Yoatmal. This town is where our driver Gope and our host Ashok live. Granted this was an eventful and meaningful day, we were spent and grateful for a bed and shower.
Of course the summary of each day would not be complete without a “brief” assessment of an intriguing moment.
Now I am trying to complain, show dis-respect, or be ungrateful for the services of our driver and new friend, Mr. Gope but you must hear what it is like to drive in the countryside of India. It is like nothing your could ever imagine, view through pictures or the cinema. In all honesty my words will be a finite attempt, yet I still desire t to paint a picture in your minds eye.
Apparently travel in India is very slow, they have very few flyovers (highways) and so those with the means take the train, bus, or plane to major destinations. Everyone else must embark on a death defying roadtrip to desired destination. And this is not any roadtrip, it can be two blocks down the street, or in our case 100km south of Nagpur. Friends, I have never seen my life flash before my eyes so many times in such a short period of time. I mentioned before the pecking order of travel in the city, but on the county road, another wrench is thrown into the mix, the sacred cow (now you know where that term came from). You must keep in mind that Hindu's worship the cow and believe the god Brahim, incarnated himself into the world where his spirit found its place in the stomach of a cow. Don't ask me why, that is just what they say (if this bried summary is not entirely accurate or needs further explanation, Pstr Eric is available to provide clarification)
Anyhow, the cow rules the road and everyone must give way. This makes for terrifying travel and funny ha-ha's. Terrifying b/c sometimes you are playing chicken with a motorcycle, a pedestrian, a rickshaw, a bus, and/ or a bicycle (remember the pecking order of the road found in previous posts). You think you are in the clear by mere centimeters, when all of a sudden a cow decides that its life is not worth living and attempts to commit suicide by throwing its hulking body, ten-foot wide horns and all into the convoluted mass of chaos we have dubbed, “driving.” Of course all modes of transportation mash on the brakes, close their eyes, hold on to dear life, and recite a prayer before they step into eternity. Surprisingly this terrifying experience turns out OK and you venture off into another death defying feat called, “driving the country roads of India.” I realize that I am being a tad mellow-dramatic, but many times you wonder if that car next you will move into your lane, the motor bike will move one inch to the right, and the pedestrian will take one more step. Thankfully we have been blessed with an experienced driver that has taken Bishops, Superintendents, Pstr Eric, and many others across the great land of India. We also have your prayers, so we are in good hands. And for those of that are really concerned pray some more, value the road system in America and just laugh. That is what have learned—laugh, pray, think of family, good things, etc—what else can you do when you drive within feet, sometimes inches, of meeting Jesus?

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