Recieving More Than I Can Give

Picture courtesy saribari.com

This past week was hard for me in a lot of ways. I again am fighting off stomach troubles and spent Monday evening at home in bed or in the bathroom. I am continuing to lose weight by the bucketful. By Wednesday I felt better but I had a long train journey to the Sari Bari village unit, about three hours from where I live to the east of Kolkata. On the way home from the village the train began to fill up very full and I was crushed in a compartment with many other women. My slight claustrophobia (coupled with my low tolerance for prolonged social exposure) began to creep up on me, so by the time I got onto the train from the main station back to my home I was already emotionally frazzled. The train home was far worse than usual, with many many people shoving and yelling at me. When I fought my way off the train I felt I'd finally been released but as I walked back to my home along the railroad tracks and made it to the railroad crossing that is right by my house the crossing gate began to come down. This slow bouncing up and down of the gate is the signal for everyone nearby to dart under the closing gate as fast as they can an make for the other side, so while I was looking up trying to keep the gate from hitting me, so was a man on a bike who did indeed run into me. The shock and pain of the whole situation just sent me over the edge. After assuring that the man on the bike was ok, I ran for my nearby house and began to feel the walls of India close in on me. I felt like I couldn't escape the chaos and the dirt and the people even when sitting on the floor of my flat trying to stop hyperventilating. As I said, It was a hard week. However, I wanted to tell you about my challenges only so that I can now tell you why enduring all this is worth it (even if I didn't think so at the time).

Chris Hale, photo from christopherhalesitar.com

This week, besides the emotional and physical challenges, I met with a lot of blessing in the form of the Sari Bari Leadership Class. This Saturday I got to worship with the ladies of Sari Bari to the music of Chris Hale, leader of Hindi Christian music group Aradhna. His music is so uplifting, it's really great to hear worship being done in a tongue that reaches out to such a huge population that has so long resisted Christian ideas. Chris Hale and his work were a big part of what got me interested in coming to India in the first place, about four years ago. It was great to get to spend some time with him again.
After worshiping I had the opportunity to do some more theater exercises with the Sari Bari women. Last time we had just played some mirroring and "emotion statue" games. This time I went in-depth into an exercise meant to help the ladies think about improvements they have the power to make in their everyday lives- in this case in their family situations. I divided the women into five groups and asked a leader in each to create a still "picture" using the members of their group, depicting a typical Bengali family. I was trying to keep the idea simple: no movement or text, but wow! Did those ladies take my input and run with it. In about fifteen minutes I had five complete skits with props and text demonstrating life in a household typical to what the women lived in. These were very eye opening for me, not having had the opportunity to see into the women's private lives before. There were many similarities in the skits that showed a homogeneity of circumstances, either in India as a whole, or perhaps in the red light areas in specific. In every skit the mother was working, cooking, cleaning, ordering children or a maid around. Almost every skit depicted the father as asleep, drunk, or both. The father often smacked the rest of the family around a bit, and when the mother demanded he go to work he simply replied, I'm not going to work, and laid down to go to sleep! In the one skit where the father did go to work he disappeared early on and did not return as the rest of the family descended into squabbling. In every skit the children sat and studied, often breaking off studies to fight amongst themselves until the mother intervened. In one, the boy child laid down to sleep while the daughters continued to study with the tutor (training for later life as the sleeping father?). Every skit involved extended family,. the grandparents or in-laws of the husband and wife. In one the grandparents simply spent all their time praying for the wellbeing of the family, while the in-laws sat smoking bidis, fighting about what would be best for the family, and ordered the mother around. In another the bent-backed grandmother cleaned the house and when a child exclaimed "give granny something to eat!" the grandmother grumbled, "I'm just the house maid, no one gives me anything to eat!".
After seeing the scenes, I asked the ladies to select the most realistic of the five. After some reluctance they selected the scene in which the father worked, the boy slept while the girls studied, and the in-laws fought about what was right for the family's future. I then asked if anything could be improved in the picture. What would make this family more ideal? At first the ladies were stumped, but with some coaxing they began to imagine what an ideal family might look like. They decided that the father should go to work, but he should then come home and be involved in the raising of the children. They had the father actor come back and wake the sleeping boy and help the kids with their studies. When considering the mother, they decided that the two grandparents should finish their prayers and go to help with the housework, and the father in-law should go to work while the mother in-law helped the mother as well. With all this help, they decided the maid could be let go to save them money (the situation was not so ideal for the maid).

picture courtesy saribari.com

Through this exercise I learned a lot about how Bengalis think of family and how difficult it is for these women to break out of the "that's just the way it is" mentality, and begin to problem solve. But they HAVE done it! I also saw how very creative and full of enthusiasm for improving their family's lives the women were. I got a glimpse into the very adverse conditions they come from, but have also overcome. In not one skit did a woman go to work to support her family. Yet that is exactly what these women do on a day to day basis! They live in a society that does not prepare women for work outside the home, for anything that could support her family, but the Sari Bari ladies have decided to say "to hell with what society expects me to do!", and they go out in the world to make their reality a better one every day! Life has thrown every disadvantage at them: drunken, sluggardly husbands, the expectation of huge amounts of household work every day, the lack of training for useful vocations, and little respite or respect to come with age! Yet they still persevere! They are simply in a word, inspiring. I have said it before and I will say it again: I expected to come here to help others, to bring others faith and hope and freedom. Instead, I have received far more than I could ever give through the example of these women's trust in God, and hope despite all odds. No matter what I have gone through in the way of physical discomfort, receiving these gifts make it worthwhile... So next time I get sick, I need to re-read this blog! Haha...

Hope is a Fact, Not A Feeling

Since coming to India, a common theme among our group has been that of hope. When we sit down to discuss our experiences and internal struggles with each other, I often hear the issue of hope brought up. "Where is hope in desolate places? When we see horrible poverty and deprivation how do we not give in to the overwhelming feeling that God is not here, that there is no hope? Why can't we feel God's hope sometimes?"
In high school I remember many students writing English class papers on books like Grapes of Wrath and The Jungle (sad books with bad endings and worse middles), touting the idea that hope is futile, that it simply gives false life and hurts people all the more when it lets them down. They said it would be better not to hope at all, at least then you would not be crushed when hope dies.
That philosophy (I suppose something akin to fatalism) could be easily applied to life in India. We are currently reading a book about the lives of sex workers in Kolkata and it strikes me how powerless women in this society are. When they are abandoned, women have little legal recourse to solicit financial support from their wayward husbands to feed or clothe or educate their children. When a woman is abandoned by her husband and kicked out by her in-laws she is left alone in a society that has taught her only dependency on others, on men, a society that will not pay her an equal wage or even offer her many of its jobs, simply based on her gender. In these cases many times the only way for her to feed her children is to enter the sex trade, or if she is lucky enough to find other work, she must toil at it day and night, neglecting the nurturing of her children for whom she works so hard. To many eyes there seems to be no hope in these situations.
However, in the face of these doubts, I found myself unable to relate to the sense of hopelessness many of my peers have combated. Not that I am not touched and angered by the plight of those around me here, but I simply have never looked at these situations and thought to myself "Where is God? Why isn't he here?" I asked myself why that was. There is every reason to reject hope and embrace despair in such an overpowering  society of poverty and oppression. I had to answer myself, "I don't see hope in those terms, as though when it is unseen it is not there. I see hope as a fact, not a feeling."
I will have to explain this rather outlandish statement further, with some unpacking of my personal flavor of belief. You see, in my eyes, even when my God is unknown and unwanted by the people on the streets of Kolkata, even when it seems he is abandoning his children who are hungry and sick and dying, in my heart of hearts I know that he has already died for them, that before they know his name he loved them enough to sacrifice himself so that they could have hope- seen or unseen. In my eyes, the fact of Jesus's love and of his death and resurrection means that no man woman or child can ever be without hope, whether they know it or not. Romans 5:1-6 supports my belief in this:
"Since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, ² through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we boast in the hope of the glory of God. ³ Not only so, but we also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; ⁴ perseverance, character; and character, hope. ⁵ And hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us.⁶ You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly." 
Hebrews 6:17-20 Also states God's undying and unshakable promise to redeem us, and validate our hope in Him:
^"17 Because God wanted to make the unchanging nature of his purpose very clear to the heirs of what was promised, he confirmed it with an oath. ¹⁸ God did this so that, by two unchangeable things in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled to take hold of the hope set before us may be greatly encouraged. ¹⁹ We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, ²⁰ where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek."

Victoria Memorial, a place of peace in the stormy city

Praise the Lord! To me these verses scream that even in the darkest places it is impossible to be without hope! Jesus has entered in before all men, and is saving them before they even know he is the one to do it! Hope in worldly things is indeed fickle and will let us down, just as all of those high school English papers said, but Jesus' unseen hope is a fact for all human beings, and it cannot fail. 
Last night one of our close Indian friends shared her troubles with us. We are so blessed that she feels comfortable enough with us to share her fears and trials when she says she has few people to listen, few fellow Indians who will understand her troubles. She is not a sex worker, but she finds herself trapped by many of the same issues of lack of value in her work as a woman, and the dearth of legal recourse she has to find support for her children. She works constantly, and has recently been faced with more challenges of emotional and physical health than she feels she can handle. But we still praise God that her faith is so strong. Her life is already a testament to God's triumph over evil and injustice. We were glad to rejoice with her in our certainty that God is caring for her, that his hope is with her in the darkest of times, and that he will bring her help and comfort when she calls. We cannot see these things in the present moment, but as Hebrews 11 states "faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see". Praise God! We are certain! We are assured in our hope, because Jesus' life, death, and resurrection means that our hope is a fact, not a feeling.

Demonstrations of Joy

Note: I'm sorry this post has taken so long to get out, I was very sick with a stomach parasite for about a week at the end of October and it has set me back quite a bit on work and blogging. I'm fully well now though, so be expecting a couple of rapid fire posts coming up!  

Left to Right: Rasheeda, Me, and Aysha in the Mall's Juice Bar!

Monday October 22nd I was blessed with the opportunity to meet my Compassion International sponsored child, Rasheeda in Chennai, India. It was a whirlwind of a trip of course, what with it being my first time traveling on my own in India, and having to plan it all myself! But God was on my side and I made it across the continent to Chennai! Chennai is a super clean city compared to Kolkata. There was less trash in the streets, better pavement, it even smelled pretty good! (Though, being by the ocean, I'm sure all the pollution just gets blown off elsewhere, unlike Kolkata where it hovers and turns your boogers black.) Anyway, It was a pleasant surprise to find such a nice place awaiting me, and after a real shower and a night on a real bed (!!!!!) I was very excited to see what my day with Rasheeda would hold.
I was picked up by the compassion office's visit coordinator, Shauline, and we went promptly to get Rasheeda and the project workers with her from a nearby YMCA where they had stayed since arriving at 6:30am by bus. They had traveled all night to come see me. As we pulled into the parking lot of the YMCA I saw two girls in bright purple and orange salwar suits breaking into enormous smiles. The two are very alike, but after a moment I realized that the taller of the two, the one in purple, was in fact Rasheeda. The first thing that struck me about her was that she was so tall! I'm used to being taller than almost everyone in India, and most other Compassion countries, but Rasheeda is at least four inches taller than me! She gave me a huge hug as soon as I stepped out of the van and hung on tight, fighting off tears. She introduced me to her younger sister, Aysha, who she brought with her, and the project workers Maithily and Jessi who accompanied them.

Our whole group: Rasheeda, Me, Aysha, Jessi, and Maithily

It was the girls' (15 and 14 yrs old) first time in the big city of Chennai, so from there Shauline whisked us away to a shopping mall (I have never done this on a child visit, I guess it was because of the child's age and the fear of bad weather) where we were told to look around, buy things, whatever we wanted! We spent a lot of time in a department store looking at toys and stuffed animals. Rasheeda seemed very content just to be close to me, but Aysha was very excited and bold, grabbing my hand and dragging me from one place to another to look at things so that I had to grab Rasheeda and haul her along just to keep her involved! The best part was their reaction to the escalators in the western-style malls. They hadn't ever seen them before so the idea of jumping onto a moving stairway or ramp was both scary and immensely fun to them. It was something I never considered as a source of joy! At a juice bar at the mall Maithily explained to me that Rasheeda and Aysha's mother had left their father when the girls were very young, and now lived in another village with another husband and daughter. She said the girls' father had given up everything to keep them, and that he now works as a bicycle mechanic while his mother, the girls' grandmother keeps house and cares for them. This sort of mother-abandonment is not common in India, and I get the sense that it is seen as very morally wrong, and an absolute miracle if the children become anything but destitute afterwards. Yet, here are Rasheeda and Aysha, grinning, tall, healthy young women full of life! It reminds me that God is so good. Maithily told me that Rasheeda would like to become a school teacher when she grows up, and her best subject is language. I was very exicted to hear she has goals for her future and tried to encourage her that it was a great idea.
After an excellent lunch at a restaurant we headed to the church of Saint Thomas, located in Chennai near the ocean. I have no idea how St. Thomas the apostle of Christ made it all the way to India, but I plan to look it up cuz he's there alright! Or, well, his tomb is. It was the grandest church Rasheeda and Aysha had ever been to. Aysha had me taking pictures of all the icons because they were so pretty. I have seen many grander cathedrals in my life, but their awe and happiness at this one made it more special to me than the others.

Enjoying looking at the Indian Ocean!

Finally, there was one more first for the girls. We were going to see the Indian ocean! And at Merina Beach, no less, one of the largest, most popular beaches in Asia! They were both very excited, having seized on the idea from the moment Shauline mentioned it and insisting on seeing the ocean.When we pulled up the the quarter-mile wide expanse of sand I could feel their excitement. They almost dragged me out into traffic when crossing the road to get to the sand. Rasheeda spoke the most in English she had all day, just repeating "What a super place!" When we made it to where the strong surf was sucking away at the sand the girls couldn't stop giggling as the water hit their toes. They just stared out at the sea and laughed and played. When we tried to get pictures standing at the water's edge a particularly large wave came up behind us and soaked us to the knees! The girls just laughed all the harder. The hot, dirty water of the Indian Ocean was a wonder to them. Seeing their joy made me remember that awe in small things is often lost to those of us who live in a bustling, industrial world. But two young women from a rural Indian village showed me again what joy in simplicity is.
When she left Rasheeda cried a lot, sad to have to leave, but also just overcome by all that went on in the day I think. We hugged a lot, and I reminded her I loved her and would be writing to her and Aysha often. In the end she smiled and waved at me as the car drove them away, and I knew her overall feeling was one of happiness. Mine was too. I am truly blessed to have such opportunities, and I thank God for reminding me so well of his joy that lives in the most unexpected of places.