Today can only be described as intensely emotional. We were either laughing hysterically at an inside joke or crying together. We left for our first medical camp in the morning. We drove for about 1 1/2 hours to Sathyavedu to a small concrete school building. We set up camp on a long metal table with a tapestry draped across. We had an assembly line of unwrapping needles, filling them, holding children, making them cry, and giving them a tootsie roll. We started singing loud, happy songs in an attempt to make our room seem a little more inviting to those waiting outside. The yodeling failed, so we turned to church songs and show tunes. They still cried, probably thinking "what crazy people these Americans are. They sing while they stab us."
After the camp, we made our way to Kolladam to see the Good Shepherd Ministry's boys home. We ate in the church building. Henry's brother, Prasad fed us the most incredible Indian cuisine. Afterwards we rested and then handed out lollipops to the local school children. I taught them a "lollipop song" which they sang at various intervals for the remainder of our time there.
Soon the children were out of school and walking us through the surrounding village. This was truly one of the highlights of my day. Watching these villages rush by from the safety of a van, it is easy to feel detached. Walking with the children to their homes was an entirely different experience. They grabbed my hands and led me through dirt streets with sewage flowing to either side. Naked children peeped out of doorways without doors, and women cooked over open fires. To see the children's eyes light up as they said "Auntie, this is my home. Come." made my heart ache. The team and children all walked as one big parade down the village lane. The children were directing the adults to let us take their picture and stopping at intervals to pick flowers for us. "Auntie, look another flower!" I let the kids lead me off the path into an open field "Look! Watermelons! Want one, Auntie??" I kindly refused and they grabbed my hands and pulled me through the field to where the women were working. One of the smallest boys walking with us began ordering the women around so that I could get some pictures. Dee was right when she said she feels like she is in a national geographic TV show. The female workers carried bundles on their head as they picked melons and handed them up onto a large truck. Maybe if I wasn't so busy thinking I was a National Geographic photographer, I would have seen the strong and determined woman running towards me brandishing a large stick like a Viking broad sword. She brushed past me and swiped at one of the children in our group ranting in some Indian language. In her defense, our children were stealing watermelons and using them like beach balls. I began to walk them out of the field thinking the woman had spent her rage when Pat, Tara, and Diann screamed for me to come. The woman was on the war path again and what their angle afforded was a view of me walking leisurely towards them and a woman rushing at my back with a baseball bat of a stick. I still think she was all bark and no bite.
Another point of interest while in Kolladam was the thatched roof houses with a satellite dish perched on top. They may not be able to feed their family, but some have TVs that you can see glowing through the rough opening they call their doorway.
Leaving Kolladam was emotional. We had bonded with children we may never see again. The next ride was much shorter and brought us to a church in, and I mean, the middle of nowhere. So rural it took us a few attempts to figure out how to get the van over to it. We all sang a few songs from the front of the church. They love to hear us sing and I'm beginning to wonder if they are tone deaf. Singers we are not, but God deserves all the praise we can give Him. More flower garlands, then Bonnie spoke on being alive in Christ and even brought visuals- two palm branches. Lori got to hold the most beautiful little baby girl through the service, and after church we prayed for and talked with the people.
They are always so receptive to prayer and seemed very confused when I asked them to return the favor. I kneeled and bowed my head just as they had, and after a few nervous giggles, an old malnourished-looking woman placed her hand on my head and quietly muttered. I don't want them to over spiritualize America. It is their faith that I am humbled by--walking miles to church when most Americans mutter when they can't find a close parking space. These people come to church with empty bellies and leave with full souls. You can see how much it strengthens them to meet with us- foreign believers. I think they feel less alone when they see that God's power is moving all over the world.
The drive home was more lighthearted. Driving in India is...well... like a video game and I'm not sure who wins. Most roads are narrow, one-ways. Most drivers use their high beams at all times at night. They beep every time they intend to pass. Slower vehicles yield to faster ones and pedestrians draw the shorter straw, second only to dogs and goats. It began to rain and it seemed our driver was too confident in his eyesight to use the wipers. We asked Praveen if they worked. He said "no, sister. They only work in the rainy season and this isn't it." We told Praveen we would strap him to the roof with two towels and he could wave his arms. I think we nearly crashed a hundred times. Not to scare anyone back home ;)
Back at the house, the emotional part came in again. Before dinner Bonnie took Me, Tara, Sue, and Dee to the girls hostel to see how they slept. How they sleep is on a hard concrete floor with thin blankets strewn haphazardly across the floor and at least three girls to blanket. They have another blanket that they use as a pillow, so they need to choose...comfort or warmth. Along the wall are a bunch of little trunks and bags all lined up. EVERYTHING they own can be kept in one bag. They didn't notice us come in or flinch as we flashed our cameras at them. All God's little girls were sound asleep for the night. I pray they were dreaming of heaven where difficulty is washed away in the light of His face.
With Thankfulness for all he has blessed us with,
Team 11 in '11
Each one should use whatever gift he has received to serve others, faithfully administering God's grace in its various forms. I Peter 4:10
