Maharastra - Part 2

If you read Maharastra - Part 1, you know that I had plenty of crazy stories from the first few days in rural India. But things got even cooler after that...

First of all, I met so many unique people that I have a hard time keeping them all straight in my head. I met ancient men and women who were there at the beginning of the Dinbandhu ministry. I met young Christian men who wanted nothing more than to sit at the feet of the Sardars and head out to plant churches of their own.

These sweet elderly villagers were among the first to
receive Christ in the area many years ago.

But there is one meeting that stands out in my memory as both unique and unforgettable. One evening, Sunil invited me to join a group of visiting Muslims for dinner. They were meeting with Sunil and Nitin (his brother) at the church to honor a high-ranking police officer who had, in the recent past, done great work in protecting lower-caste people.

I was blown away by how effortlessly they dialogued about the issues of caste, discrimination and injustice. They were fighting for the same cause, despite their differences of religion. It was powerful. And, upon seeing it for myself, it became a phenomenon no longer limited in my mind to the musings of guys with faux-hawks and soul patches!

Another experience that will stick with me for a long while was a night-time visit to a village that had mostly burned down (due to the fact that there is no water source within 3km). Nitin and the Dinbandhu guys were going to pass out relief supplies and share the gospel with the village, which had never heard it in any form...

To get there, we had to walk about a half of a mile through ankle deep mud in the dark! Wearing jeans and flip-flops, I wasn't exactly prepared for such a treacherous journey. Thankfully, the sheer gratitude of the villagers more than made up for any discomfort I felt. In fact, I had to suppress tears in the midst of the ceremony. This was the gospel (the "good news") being lived out.

The whole village gathered to hear what Nitin had to say.

Oh, but things were not to remain peachy forever. No. For a hideous and monstrous illness found only in the remotest regions of central India struck me down. The common cold. Wait, what? Of all things to get while visiting Maharastra, I get a cold?

Well I'll tell you one thing. It was some cold. I came down with a really bad fever that has come and gone for almost a week. To give you an idea of how high it was, we took my temperature at a point in which I was feeling pretty good. 101.9! Yikes. How bad was it when I wasn't feeling so great?

Well, as with most experiences of this trip, my "cold" became a valuable learning opportunity. The moment word got out that I was sick, everyone just poured into my room to pray for me, bring me chai, force feed me a bunch of really shady looking pills... In other words, a beautiful example of a community coming together to comfort a stranger in need. Wow.

I had one last adventure before returning to Delhi. The Indian railways. Instead of flying back, I decided to take a train alone. When I got onto the train, I was surprised to see that my seat was actually this tiny 6'x2' bunk crammed along one wall near the ceiling. It was, um... cozy. And quite a memorable experience. A 15 hour-long memorable experience. :)

Me laughing about how tiny my bunk was. At least I could almost stretch out all the way if I lay down!

Driving back into Delhi Thursday morning however, I had a bit of re-entry shock. It was early morning, so I was privy to a sight I had not seen before. Row after row of homeless men, women and children sleeping on the sidewalks and medians.

The sight was bitterly sobering. And it reminded me once again of the reason why I am here...