The Odd Observations

(Editor's Note: After a delay of more than an hour at Minneapolis, I finally got home at about 2:00am this morning. I did get into bed and sleep a bit, but after a little more than an hour, I was tossing and turning and awake. It'll take a bit of time to re-set the internal clock to Mountian Time. In the meanwhile, this is a post that I tried to get on using airport wi-fi, but had no luck. Look for some more posts over the next few days that have more pictures and mission details. Now that I have good 'ol U.S.A. internet speed, I can post at will.)

India has some stark contrasts in it's customs. The same country that is famous for it's hip-gyrating Bollywood dance numbers with their very suggestive choreography, frowns upon husbands and wives showing any sign of affection, such as hugging or kissing, in public. Men and boys, however, will stroll down the sidewalk with their arms around each other or holding each others hand. It's OK to show affection to your male friends, but don't kiss your wife. When I said my farewells to my team mates it was difficult to refrain from hugging them.

 

This is the artwork that is hanging in our hotel room. Jay and I are confused as to what an abstract piece of bacon has to do with the classic song from the movie Casa Blanca. There is the chance that we're simply missing that great American food.

David Sedaris writes that if you are trying to make small talk in a foreign country, it is interesting to ask them what their Christmas tradition is and what their rooster says. For what it's worth, among Christians their Christmas traditions are similar to ours, but with no tree. Their rooster says "Cock-o-rock-koo!"

This is the sign that is outside the style salon located at ground level in our hotel. The salon is a new addition and if you look at the sign you will see that they offer "facial bleaching." In India the middle and upper class all want fair skin. In America the middle and upper class go to tanning booths to get darker.

In the evenings I like to get a cup of chai and sit on the street-side table in front of the hotel. It sounds odd, but the rush and din and dirt of the traffic helps me to clear my head and think about the day and, more often than not, what I will write to you. One night a man, perhaps 40, approached me and in very good English said "Hello. I see you out here last evening but did not say "hello." I returned his smile and greeting and we struck up a conversation. We have to be somewhat careful about answers to questions when they ask why we're here, but I answer honestly, just not too honestly. I told him I was here to meet the people of Assam and travel the area. He was surprised that it was my second visit and said "Perhaps you can tell me, sir, why do Americans come here? In America everything is clean and orderly and in India there is so much poverty and dirt and mess." He went on to explain India's, and particularly Assam's condition, blaming it largely on the majority being illiterate.

It was a question that caught me a bit off guard. While it is true that I am here on a mission trip, I love being here. To me, being in India is almost the exact opposite of "suffering for Jesus' sake." If I were a wealthy man, I would visit India several times a year on holiday. In the end I told him that I find India's culture fascinating and it's people (at least on a personal level) very warm and inviting. The truth is that this answer is only part of the whole. The rest is something I have yet to figure out.

 

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