Silent Night.

I've been listening the Christmas music for the last 2 months, but it's been on ipod arrest, since my teammates don't believe in pre-Thanksgiving Christmas enjoyment. But now it's playing loud and clear throughout our place.

Andy Williams, Harry Connick Jr., and yes....even some Mariah Carey folks.

Everything has a different ring here--it evokes a different reaction than it used to when back at home. It's almost more pure in some way, as if all the distractions of the Walmart aisles and t.v. holiday commercials numb up the beauty of Christmas a bit. It's not like I don't love holiday commercialism--i unfortunately do. But among the unrest of a place like this, I find myself wishing for a silent night more than ever.

North

 

Firsts

For the first time in my life, I know personally how it feels to be hated for something that you didn't choose, or to be misunderstood in such a significant way that any effort of love you make is rejected.

At a loss for words, yet that won't stop me...

It's a new thing for me--living in a place where staying in on Friday nights is GOOD for one's social reputation.

I'm so hot right now, I feel like showering in my clothes and going straight to bed.

I tried a new kind of toothpaste this week--Colgate Herbal White. I've been informed that it's in good supply at the dollar stores back at home, which makes perfect sense for why it's in huge supply here.

Do you ever just stop and tell yourself, "Stop talking." I do this hourly, ever since learning a language where the verb comes at the end, and everything else is a free-for-all (except for the fact that whatever YOU say is WRONG.)

I made cookies today for a neighbor, and she thought they were kebabs. Does this tell you anything about my cooking skills?

Good night...I mean Shaba Hehr..I mean Shaba night...aahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

"WUV...TWUE WUV" ~Princess Bride

Yes folks, I'm back on the bandwagon...or more specifically, the blogwagon.

And this week's topic is...that right! WUV. So sit back with your popcorn and soda, and enjoy.

There are a few select things in my life that I will always LOVE. I love Millstone Hazelnut Cream coffee with milk in the mornings. I autumn walks outdoors. I love the fact that, even at the age of 23, my Dad is still not hesitant to bear hug me and tell me I'm beautiful...by the way Dad, if you're reading this, I truly LOVE your corny jokes and the fact that I can always count on you to ride up on your horse whenever we have company.

There are simply things in my life that I don't have to work at to love.

But if I'm learning anyting (and believe me, there are days when this is certainly in question), it is that LOVE is two things: CHOICE and OBEDIENCE. Sorry Meg Ryan, my new insight is killer for your romantic comedy career. I mean, is it any wonder that in Galations 5:22, love is mentioned first?

Well, I certainly don't want to lecture (or heaven forbid--bore you), but it's just something my over-processed mind has been chewing on.

On another note, I had the opportunity to visit with patients last week at a local hospital. One of the patients I talked with was a young mother of a new baby girl. As she sat and told me about her life circumstances, which included an abusive husband and financial difficulties--I was moved. I was moved at the fact that our lives were so completely different that only the most DIVINE POWER could have appointed us to be in the same room on the same day. Yet ironically, there have been few people in my life that I've felt a connection with like I felt with this girl. I GOT her and she GOT me. It was (whew!)oh-so-goood.

As I was preparing to leave, she grabbed my hand and asked me to name her baby girl.

Mariam.

Now I WUV THAT.

Enjoying a rare delacacy here in South Asia.

Stef with some of the friends we made at a university.

Hamming it up with some friends.

"I'm every woman...It's all in me..."

Well guess what, Chaka Khan? You're WRONG.

I've been attempting to function on my own lately, and failing miserably to depend on the Lord for the strength needed to survive in a dry and arid place like South Asia. Unsurprisingly, as a result I've hit a brick wall of exhaustion and desperate need of renewal. How quickly one can end up here, when we get this crazy mindset that we can kick and paddle like crazy to stay afloat, or control who will accept truth and who won't. How we can even know where we're going to live tomorrow or how our digestive systems will choose to function. One thing is certainly more clear to me than ever before: I'm NOT every woman, and it will certainly NEVER be all in me. And you know what? That's OK.

I was chilling alone in our kitchen last night, eating icecream out of the box with a spoon and pondering the memories of yet another crazy day here in South Asia. Somewhere between my thoughts and the sweet taste in my mouth, my eyes fell on a verse that was posted on the fridge:

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for His compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself; the Lord is my portion; therefore I will wait for Him. the Lord is good to those whose hope is in Him, to the one who seeks Him; it is good to wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord." Lamentaions 3:22-26

Honestly, this was not the comfort I was expecting when I opened the freezer, but it was what I needed to hear. "Because of the Lord's great love, we are not consumed..."

We leave this country in less than a week, so our few remaining days hold many goodbye's and individual's to trust to HIM.

 

Divine Appointments

It's funny how quickly people enter and exit your life sometimes.

The other day I was walking in a park, and met a sweet elderly widow. As we were talking, her eyes welled up with tears as she told me about the recent passing of her husband of 67 years. I made a friend for life that day, because after having chai at her house, she now kisses my cheek each time I see her and calls me "Sweetie Pie." It's so cute.

We were also introduced to her daughter, who invited us to our first Indian wedding celebration, where we danced the night away to 80's tunes and ate our first Indian meal since recovering from our first South Asia parasite (which in itself is the basic reason I've failed to blog in 3 weeks.)

Last night, we went with the daughter to a local cancer treatment center, and were able to visit with patients who were facing the last stages of their lives. I don't have the words right now to blog about this, but can only say that when looking into their eyes, I promised that I would never feel sorry for myself again, because I don't know suffering.

I feel that I'm often drained of energy here, specifically emotional energy, and find that I spend most of it taking in the poverty and suffering in the everyday scenes of life here.

Sharing Is Caring...

EXCEPT when your co-workers and you have contracted a 48 hour stomach virus and your sharing one toilet among the three of you.

My co-workers and I traveled a bit this past week. On the train ride home, I held my friend Che's hair back as she vomited 20 times on an Indian train--a fact that will most likely scar her for life. The other passengers on the train weren't too hesitant to hide their disgust. It was one of the rare times that I was thankful to not understand Hindi. I knew it was really bad when one mother shielded her young daughter's eyes as they passed by.

Two hours later, after we reached home, the virus struck my friend Stefanie. And, alas! Two hours later it was my turn. So for the last 48 hours, the three of us have been surviving on Sprite, sleep and Rogers & Hammerstein musicals.

I'm told that this is part of the experience of living in South Asia. Glad to know I'm fully immersed.

 

The Drums are Calling...

It's wedding season here.

This means two things: you go to sleep each night to the sound of drums, and you wake up each morning to the sound of drums. I'm basically living a non-stop homecoming football game here.

So this morning I was sitting on my couch peacefully listening to my worship music, when once again, the drums call outside my window. I made an executive decision at this point to gain cultural insight by observing. I walk out in the street in my jeans and flipflops...and bed hair...but none the less, with a big fat smile on my face.

Imagine this, if you will: Horses decked out to the max with gold bridles and braided tails. Female family members with the most elaborate saris, waving their henna-decorated hands in the air and stopping right outside our gate to dance like they were performing in a Bollywood film. And of course there was the band, each member carrying their instrument with pride, and playing as if it was their last day on earth. It was AMAZING! These people know how to marry in style.

So everyone is coming out of their homes to watch the scene take place, and I was perfectly content being one of these innocent bystanders, when one of the male members of the party grabs my hand and pulls me out into the parade. Before I know it, I'm surrounded by 10 beautiful women encouraging me to join them in Indian dance. I'm sure I had a look on my face, similar to the one I had upon my first experience in Indian traffic, but I recovered smoothly enough (thanks to those 4th grade dance lessons). Did I mention that I had an Indian man shoving a video camera in my face? That poor bride. She'll forever have my awkward dancing on her wedding footage.

But I'm told that it's an auspicious sign for foreigners to appear at a wedding ceremonies here. Go figure. ME, looking my very worst, is a blessing to others. Man, I love this place!

Check out my Slide Show!

Blogging...The greatest adventure of all.

So I find myself branching out in a number of exciting ways these days. Squatty potties, curry and paneer pizza, Bollywood films, and now blogging....

But lately I find myself going to bed, frustrated at being unable to share my crazy day-to-day experiences with the folks back home. I mean, how can I express the glee that comes when spotting elephants while eating at McDonald's? Or the pride that comes with being told that you "bargain like an Indian"? .....or...the fear in discovering that a small rat resides in your bathroom cabinet and strikes every time the electricity goes out.

So, I hope that this blogsite serves as a faithful bridge across the ocean, to carry the many laughs, frustrations and life lessons from me to you.

Thanks for tuning in ;)