Monday, June 21, 2010
Friday, April 30, 2010
Part 3 - E Calcutta: First day volunteering
August 14, 2009
I can no longer remember exactly what I did on Friday morning, but it was pleasant. I think I tried to get more postcards written, maybe went shopping at a grocery store, which was total chaos to me, and I think that was also when I bought stamps for all my postcards, even the ones I hadn't written yet.
On my way to volunteer, I somehow messed up on the time I was supposed to be there. I was surrounded by confusion and subsequently taken in comfort by three women, other volunteers, who took me into a restaurant, and we proceeded to have a very serious religious debate.
One girl was a haughty agnostic, one was on the fence regarding religion, and one was Catholic with lots of knowledge but a very non-chalant, I'll-sound-like-I-don't-really-care-about-this-so-much-so-that-you-can-think-I'm-cool kind of attitude. I kept praying about what to say, and finally concluded that it was going nowhere and that the best course was to leave. I paid them for the soda I had ordered and drank, and left, saddened and badly shaken. I ran into one of my roommates but I couldn't tell her about it. I went back to the Baptist mission, and was about to go inside to pray, but stopped and went over to two ladies, one of whom I had met earlier and knew was a Christian. I told them about what happened, and they said that the place we had gone in to eat was very spiritually dark, they knew of someone else who had gotten into a bad religious debate in there. They prayed for me and encouraged me, and it was such a blessing. They were going over to the same place I was meant to volunteer (although they didn't know that) and I was surprised by how late it had gotten. By that time, I was late for volunteering.
I was just getting started helping one child, a little blind girl, when one of the sisters called me over and asked my name. She said that a bishop was looking for me, from Gospel For Asia, a Christian missions group I've been supporting. A few months ago I had submitted a request to visit one of their bridge of hope schools while in Calcutta, and they said they would contact me through Mother House. Well, because I had arrived so late, I had pretty much given up hope of being able to do anything with that. But they promised to pick me up the next morning at 6:30!
Then I was assigned to a different child and spent my whole time with her. My experience with the three women that argued with me opened my eyes to see that just because the children's home is run by Christians, doesn't mean it's free from darkness. So I spent a lot of my time singing praise and dancing with the child.
Rinku's legs don't work normally because she was crippled from polio as an infant. I don't know any more of her story. She also had some mouth deformities that made it difficult to feed her. When I first began working with her, her legs were in braces, and she was supported between a wall and a table to be able to stand. So the first while, we just danced by swinging arms around, me acting goofy, and her grinning from ear to ear.
After a while, one of the staff asked me to try and help Rinku walk around. She couldn't support herself, so it was a bit difficult. Eventually I figured out that if I held her with one arm under her armpits and across her chest, and the other arm supporting her hips, we could walk together reasonably well. We walked back and forth, me singing all kinds of praise songs. After a while, the staff nurses told me that if I was getting tired, I could stop, but I could tell that Rinku was really enjoying it, and it was good for her. Besides, in my experience at Bethesda Lutheran Home, I was paired with residents who were much more physically taxing, and Rinku weighed only half as much as those adults. Near the end we helped to feed them, and soon it was time to be done.
That evening, I went out to dinner with my three roommates and the three Christian ladies I had befriended. At first, we contemplated going to a really nice restaurant that was in a five-star hotel. The contrast was appalling. We went from the dirty, dark, hot and humid street into a bright, clean, shining air-conditioned lobby of the hotel. Two thoughts went through my mind: one, it felt like we walked into a refrigerator, and two, it felt like we walked from one movie set to a totally different movie set. It didn't seem natural for there to be that much difference between the street and the inside of a building.
In the end, we decided that the restaurants in the hotel were not to everyone's liking and two expensive. So we went to a different place we had seen along the way, which was still a nice restaurant, but much more reasonable. It had two different menus: one was Indian food, and the other was Chinese food. My friends were already getting tired of Indian food so they all ordered Chinese food. I ordered Indian food, and it was very good but surprisingly salty.
After we returned to BMS, we all took a picture together.
I can no longer remember exactly what I did on Friday morning, but it was pleasant. I think I tried to get more postcards written, maybe went shopping at a grocery store, which was total chaos to me, and I think that was also when I bought stamps for all my postcards, even the ones I hadn't written yet.
On my way to volunteer, I somehow messed up on the time I was supposed to be there. I was surrounded by confusion and subsequently taken in comfort by three women, other volunteers, who took me into a restaurant, and we proceeded to have a very serious religious debate.
One girl was a haughty agnostic, one was on the fence regarding religion, and one was Catholic with lots of knowledge but a very non-chalant, I'll-sound-like-I-don't-really-care-about-this-so-much-so-that-you-can-think-I'm-cool kind of attitude. I kept praying about what to say, and finally concluded that it was going nowhere and that the best course was to leave. I paid them for the soda I had ordered and drank, and left, saddened and badly shaken. I ran into one of my roommates but I couldn't tell her about it. I went back to the Baptist mission, and was about to go inside to pray, but stopped and went over to two ladies, one of whom I had met earlier and knew was a Christian. I told them about what happened, and they said that the place we had gone in to eat was very spiritually dark, they knew of someone else who had gotten into a bad religious debate in there. They prayed for me and encouraged me, and it was such a blessing. They were going over to the same place I was meant to volunteer (although they didn't know that) and I was surprised by how late it had gotten. By that time, I was late for volunteering.
I was just getting started helping one child, a little blind girl, when one of the sisters called me over and asked my name. She said that a bishop was looking for me, from Gospel For Asia, a Christian missions group I've been supporting. A few months ago I had submitted a request to visit one of their bridge of hope schools while in Calcutta, and they said they would contact me through Mother House. Well, because I had arrived so late, I had pretty much given up hope of being able to do anything with that. But they promised to pick me up the next morning at 6:30!
Then I was assigned to a different child and spent my whole time with her. My experience with the three women that argued with me opened my eyes to see that just because the children's home is run by Christians, doesn't mean it's free from darkness. So I spent a lot of my time singing praise and dancing with the child.
Rinku's legs don't work normally because she was crippled from polio as an infant. I don't know any more of her story. She also had some mouth deformities that made it difficult to feed her. When I first began working with her, her legs were in braces, and she was supported between a wall and a table to be able to stand. So the first while, we just danced by swinging arms around, me acting goofy, and her grinning from ear to ear.
After a while, one of the staff asked me to try and help Rinku walk around. She couldn't support herself, so it was a bit difficult. Eventually I figured out that if I held her with one arm under her armpits and across her chest, and the other arm supporting her hips, we could walk together reasonably well. We walked back and forth, me singing all kinds of praise songs. After a while, the staff nurses told me that if I was getting tired, I could stop, but I could tell that Rinku was really enjoying it, and it was good for her. Besides, in my experience at Bethesda Lutheran Home, I was paired with residents who were much more physically taxing, and Rinku weighed only half as much as those adults. Near the end we helped to feed them, and soon it was time to be done.
That evening, I went out to dinner with my three roommates and the three Christian ladies I had befriended. At first, we contemplated going to a really nice restaurant that was in a five-star hotel. The contrast was appalling. We went from the dirty, dark, hot and humid street into a bright, clean, shining air-conditioned lobby of the hotel. Two thoughts went through my mind: one, it felt like we walked into a refrigerator, and two, it felt like we walked from one movie set to a totally different movie set. It didn't seem natural for there to be that much difference between the street and the inside of a building.
In the end, we decided that the restaurants in the hotel were not to everyone's liking and two expensive. So we went to a different place we had seen along the way, which was still a nice restaurant, but much more reasonable. It had two different menus: one was Indian food, and the other was Chinese food. My friends were already getting tired of Indian food so they all ordered Chinese food. I ordered Indian food, and it was very good but surprisingly salty.
After we returned to BMS, we all took a picture together.
Part 3 -D Calcutta: Volunteer's day off
August 13, 2009
I woke up quite early and went to 6am mass at Mother House. It was all in English, but from all the honking outside it was a little difficult to hear. During the distribution, I went up to receive a blessing, and even though I crossed my arms over my chest as they had instructed us if we weren't Catholic, the priest still tried to give me Eucharist. I had to tell him I'm not Roman Catholic. It was very encouraging to me, I guess he recognized my spirit over and above my gesture to indicate that I only wanted a blessing.
After Mass I stayed for a little while longer to pray, and then went back to the baptist mission for breakfast.
Thursdays are always a day off for volunteers. So I decided to spend the day writing as many postcards as I could. I found some postcards at a shop, but the only cards that weren't some buddhist or hindu temple or shrine, were of Mother Teresa with a halo. So I got a bunch of those.
I also thought I wanted to try to use the internet. I was told there was an internet cafe across from the entrance to Mother House, so after breakfast I headed out in the rain to go and see. When I arrived, I found the place, but it was closed. The sisters at the door of Mother House saw me, and they said that the man who runs the place had probably gone out somewhere, so they invited me to wait in the entryway with them.
They regularly have two sisters serving as doorkeepers, to welcome visitors and show them where to go to see Mother Teresa's grave. I don't remember what all I did while I was waiting there because I never journaled about it and now it has been more than eight months since it happened. I think I read my bible a little, but mostly sat and prayed. It wasn't really the thing to do to chat with the sisters, but they did politely ask me a few questions. I watched how they greeted people, and how they gave a little medallion to every visitor that came. At first, I peeked outside regularly to see if the internet cafe was open, but after a while, I gave up trying.
At one point, the sisters became very busy with lots of visitors coming in, so when yet another visitor came in and they weren't able to help her right away, I greeted her. She had just arrived in Calcutta and wanted to see Mother Teresa's grave, so I showed her the way and explained where to take off her shoes and everything. Later on, the sisters were still busy and she almost left without ever talking to them, but I got one of the medallions for her, briefly confirming with one of the sisters who was busy. The lady was so moved and grateful, she was in tears.
A bishop came to visit, and so one of the sisters had to escort him in, and then someone else came looking for someone, so that sister had to go, and she asked me if I would stay and watch the door! So I sat alone for a while, greeting visitors and showing them in to Mother Teresa's tomb. I felt it to be a marvelous privilege. But it does seem that they will ask a volunteer to do that from time to time.
"I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." -Psalm 84:10b
Eventually, the sisters were not so busy anymore and returned to their post, and by then I was really enjoying sitting in the doorway. It was a rather wide space, hard to describe, like a big room that was open on one side into a courtyard, which was where visitors were to take their shoes off. In the end, one of the sisters said that the internet cafe was open again, but at that time it was so crowded that there were people waiting to use it, so I waited at Mother house for a little while longer. Finally I went and used the internet.
For the rest of the day, I sat on my bed in the Baptist mission, writing postcards. One of my roommates, the Indian lady, who has a beautiful Indian name, but for her privacy I will call her Pam, was also in the room. She was talking on her cell phone and I was not paying attention. But eventually she shared her anguished story with me, which I will also keep private. Needless to say, it opened the door for me to share the Gospel with her and to pray with her. So I was glad I was there.
I ate all of my meals in the cafeteria of the Baptist mission. It was Indian food, but not very spicy at all, almost as if they had intentionally made it more bland to accommodate the foreign visitors who eat there. It was very convenient, and gave me the opportunity to meet more of the Christian volunteers who were staying there. At one of the meals, I met and talked with three American women, but at that time I didn't memorize their names. Thursday was just a very good day of rest.
I woke up quite early and went to 6am mass at Mother House. It was all in English, but from all the honking outside it was a little difficult to hear. During the distribution, I went up to receive a blessing, and even though I crossed my arms over my chest as they had instructed us if we weren't Catholic, the priest still tried to give me Eucharist. I had to tell him I'm not Roman Catholic. It was very encouraging to me, I guess he recognized my spirit over and above my gesture to indicate that I only wanted a blessing.
After Mass I stayed for a little while longer to pray, and then went back to the baptist mission for breakfast.
Thursdays are always a day off for volunteers. So I decided to spend the day writing as many postcards as I could. I found some postcards at a shop, but the only cards that weren't some buddhist or hindu temple or shrine, were of Mother Teresa with a halo. So I got a bunch of those.
I also thought I wanted to try to use the internet. I was told there was an internet cafe across from the entrance to Mother House, so after breakfast I headed out in the rain to go and see. When I arrived, I found the place, but it was closed. The sisters at the door of Mother House saw me, and they said that the man who runs the place had probably gone out somewhere, so they invited me to wait in the entryway with them.
They regularly have two sisters serving as doorkeepers, to welcome visitors and show them where to go to see Mother Teresa's grave. I don't remember what all I did while I was waiting there because I never journaled about it and now it has been more than eight months since it happened. I think I read my bible a little, but mostly sat and prayed. It wasn't really the thing to do to chat with the sisters, but they did politely ask me a few questions. I watched how they greeted people, and how they gave a little medallion to every visitor that came. At first, I peeked outside regularly to see if the internet cafe was open, but after a while, I gave up trying.
At one point, the sisters became very busy with lots of visitors coming in, so when yet another visitor came in and they weren't able to help her right away, I greeted her. She had just arrived in Calcutta and wanted to see Mother Teresa's grave, so I showed her the way and explained where to take off her shoes and everything. Later on, the sisters were still busy and she almost left without ever talking to them, but I got one of the medallions for her, briefly confirming with one of the sisters who was busy. The lady was so moved and grateful, she was in tears.
A bishop came to visit, and so one of the sisters had to escort him in, and then someone else came looking for someone, so that sister had to go, and she asked me if I would stay and watch the door! So I sat alone for a while, greeting visitors and showing them in to Mother Teresa's tomb. I felt it to be a marvelous privilege. But it does seem that they will ask a volunteer to do that from time to time.
"I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked." -Psalm 84:10b
Eventually, the sisters were not so busy anymore and returned to their post, and by then I was really enjoying sitting in the doorway. It was a rather wide space, hard to describe, like a big room that was open on one side into a courtyard, which was where visitors were to take their shoes off. In the end, one of the sisters said that the internet cafe was open again, but at that time it was so crowded that there were people waiting to use it, so I waited at Mother house for a little while longer. Finally I went and used the internet.
For the rest of the day, I sat on my bed in the Baptist mission, writing postcards. One of my roommates, the Indian lady, who has a beautiful Indian name, but for her privacy I will call her Pam, was also in the room. She was talking on her cell phone and I was not paying attention. But eventually she shared her anguished story with me, which I will also keep private. Needless to say, it opened the door for me to share the Gospel with her and to pray with her. So I was glad I was there.
I ate all of my meals in the cafeteria of the Baptist mission. It was Indian food, but not very spicy at all, almost as if they had intentionally made it more bland to accommodate the foreign visitors who eat there. It was very convenient, and gave me the opportunity to meet more of the Christian volunteers who were staying there. At one of the meals, I met and talked with three American women, but at that time I didn't memorize their names. Thursday was just a very good day of rest.
Part 3 -C Calcutta: Orientation
August 12, 2009
Volunteer Orientation was held at Shishu Bhavan, in kind of an outer, covered courtyard area. Things hadn't started yet, but there were many volunteers there already. I began talking with some other Japanese people there, the two people I saw while getting on the plane, and others as well. After a bit of small-talk, the orientation began. By the time I realized that people were in groups based on the language they understood best, I was stuck in the Japanese group! I didn't remember everything perfectly, but I did okay. It was meant to be, because when they explained about daily Mass that's held at Motherhouse, the Japanese gal who was explaining didn't know why non-Catholics were not supposed to take Eucharist, but I was able to explain a little bit more.
They recommended that we not give money or things to the people or children begging, because it is often not genuine, or else the person begging is being exploited or trafficked by someone else. There are plenty of charities that are willing to help those who are truly destitute, so the people begging are usually doing it as a hobby, or else they are being forced to do so by someone else who is manipulating them or threatening them. So, I resolved that I wouldn't contribute to that.
I was assigned to work at Shishu Bhavan children's home, on the handicapped children's floor. I was very glad especially to be assigned someplace close, so that I wouldn't have to take a bus. But, since our orientation was on Wednesday, and there is no volunteering on Thursday, it wouldn't be until Friday that I would go back to volunteer.
After orientation, Michiko and I decided to go shopping at Camac street mall, where the lady at the mission house had recommended. We took a taxi there, and I bought one traditional ladies outfit, just a type of long shirt, and pants that are narrow but long at the ankles so that they bunch up. Eventually I will post a picture.
We had a harder time getting back, partly because we first wanted to find a place to change money, and the first place that was recommended to us was closed. After we found another place, we managed to stop a taxi, but he wouldn't take us back for some reason. So we ended up walking all the way back. We sort of knew the way, and I also had a map so that we could check landmarks as we went. Part of the way, we had no choice but to walk through a crowded, noisy night market. I could tell some of the time that Michiko wanted to look at some of the things they were selling, but she also said she had a headache so we charged through to try to get back as quickly as possible.
All day we had walked through a tangle of humanity, full of extremes. I had seen men bathing in the street using a fire hydrant, as well as businessmen in fancy suits. The noise of car horns honking and bells ringing had been an unending din that lasted into the night. All I could do was pray that God would bring them peace, and increase my peace, to help me sleep.
Volunteer Orientation was held at Shishu Bhavan, in kind of an outer, covered courtyard area. Things hadn't started yet, but there were many volunteers there already. I began talking with some other Japanese people there, the two people I saw while getting on the plane, and others as well. After a bit of small-talk, the orientation began. By the time I realized that people were in groups based on the language they understood best, I was stuck in the Japanese group! I didn't remember everything perfectly, but I did okay. It was meant to be, because when they explained about daily Mass that's held at Motherhouse, the Japanese gal who was explaining didn't know why non-Catholics were not supposed to take Eucharist, but I was able to explain a little bit more.
They recommended that we not give money or things to the people or children begging, because it is often not genuine, or else the person begging is being exploited or trafficked by someone else. There are plenty of charities that are willing to help those who are truly destitute, so the people begging are usually doing it as a hobby, or else they are being forced to do so by someone else who is manipulating them or threatening them. So, I resolved that I wouldn't contribute to that.
I was assigned to work at Shishu Bhavan children's home, on the handicapped children's floor. I was very glad especially to be assigned someplace close, so that I wouldn't have to take a bus. But, since our orientation was on Wednesday, and there is no volunteering on Thursday, it wouldn't be until Friday that I would go back to volunteer.
After orientation, Michiko and I decided to go shopping at Camac street mall, where the lady at the mission house had recommended. We took a taxi there, and I bought one traditional ladies outfit, just a type of long shirt, and pants that are narrow but long at the ankles so that they bunch up. Eventually I will post a picture.
We had a harder time getting back, partly because we first wanted to find a place to change money, and the first place that was recommended to us was closed. After we found another place, we managed to stop a taxi, but he wouldn't take us back for some reason. So we ended up walking all the way back. We sort of knew the way, and I also had a map so that we could check landmarks as we went. Part of the way, we had no choice but to walk through a crowded, noisy night market. I could tell some of the time that Michiko wanted to look at some of the things they were selling, but she also said she had a headache so we charged through to try to get back as quickly as possible.
All day we had walked through a tangle of humanity, full of extremes. I had seen men bathing in the street using a fire hydrant, as well as businessmen in fancy suits. The noise of car horns honking and bells ringing had been an unending din that lasted into the night. All I could do was pray that God would bring them peace, and increase my peace, to help me sleep.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Part 3 - B, Calcutta: settling in and finding lunch
We found the Baptist Mission house after walking down the street for about 5 minutes. It really was quite close. We were greeted at the gates by an older Indian man. As we explained we were looking for a room and the sisters had recommended this place, he gave us directions to the office. The grounds were considerably large, and seemed spacious and clean in comparison to the crowded filth on the streets. I didn't count how many buildings there were. Near the gate was a small gatehouse, like a tiny office. The driveway split off in two directions on either side of a very large, somewhat old, house. To the left of the house seemed to be a parking area and grounds-keeping buildings, but I don't remember it distinctly. The house itself didn't face the street, but faced off to the right, so that the right side of the building was parallel to the street. It was two stories tall, but seemed larger. Immediately in front of the house was the driveway, continuing on towards two other, much taller buildings, each maybe four stories tall. On the other side of the driveway straight out from the entrance was an expansive lawn, with hedges and trees, and a wooden/iron bench on one side. Some of the bushes were flowering, I think, but I can't even remember what color they were. In the back corner towards the street was another small grounds-keeping building. The hedges and shrubs around the lawn were arranged in a large oval/circular shape, and beyond the hedges toward the corners and edges were several trees of various ages, that gave shade to the perimeter of the lawn but left the middle part sunny.
Outside the front of the house there were two signs on either side of the door. The one on the left said in big, block letters: A SPECIAL WELCOME TO B.M.S. GUEST HOUSE THE PEACE AND THE JOY OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU. The sign on the right side said: EXPECT GREAT THINGS FROM GOD ATTEMPT GREAT THINGS FOR GOD (DR. WILLIAM CAREY). The only reason I remember exactly what it said is because I have a photo that comes in at a later part of the story. I'm including it here because it made a great impression on me; I felt very welcome and glad to be there. The quote from Dr. Carey impressed me, but it didn't click right away that I had read a manga biography about him in Japanese not long before going to India. I now recall learning from that book that he had gone to the Bengali region of East India, even entering India through Calcutta, and he was one of the founders of the Baptist Mission Society, B.M.S., where we were going to stay.
We entered through the screen door and wiped our feet. I think there were small signs directing us to the office, which was through a simple dining room and to the right. The ceilings were very high, which explains why the building looked so large. The office was the only room in the building that was air-conditioned. I almost felt cold in comparison to the heat we had gotten accustomed to. We spoke to the lady in charge, a very pleasant Indian lady. She showed us the dormitory room, and as we were satisfied with it, we went back downstairs to take care of business. The whole process somehow took quite a bit of time. Before leaving the office, I asked her where she usually bought her clothes -- Indian women were so nicely dressed. She gave me the names of two shops and the area where I would find them, Camac Street. Then, May and I went upstairs to settle in.
The room was large, with high ceilings and ceiling fans on long stems. There were three ceiling fans in the room. The windows were taller than they were wide, with long curtains. There were six beds in the room. Two of them obviously already belonged to two other women, who weren't there when we arrived. May and I each chose a bed for ourselves and began to settle in. My bed was next to a large chest of drawers, and I put some of my things in there. To the other side was another bed parallel, and after that the window. There were two bathrooms adjacent to the room and accessible only from our room. One was on the other side of my dresser, the other was on the other side of the room nearer to May's bed. The one near my bed had a sink at the end of a narrow corridor, another room for the toilet, and a third area for the shower, which had a very ancient-looking water heater attached to it. These three rooms shared a ceiling with our room, and above the height of the door frames there were no walls. Although the room was hot, the ceiling fans made it feel quite comfortable. The other bathroom was smaller and more crude, only two rooms, one completely open to our room and obviously used for hanging laundry. The other room had a toilet and something that looked like it could be a shower. But generally, everyone in the room used the bathroom and shower that was near my bed.
After settling in and resting awhile, May and I decided we had better find something to eat for lunch. It was already well after 1pm. So we locked things up (the room locked with a padlock and key, which we brought into the room at night and then dead-bolted from the inside once everyone was in for the night), gave the key to the man at the gate as we had been instructed, and set out.
It was a bit hard to find anything good. We were still a bit wary of trying to cross the big main road, so we just stayed on the same side of that road as our guest house and Mother house. There really wasn't anything. We saw one small hole-in-the-wall shop -- literally, it had no doors or front wall -- but thought we'd keep looking a little while longer. We could always come back to it on our way back if we found nothing better.
It's hard to describe what was there, but that's only due to the fact that there were so many things, people, sights, sounds, smells, that my brain was on sensory overload and I ended up tuning a lot of it out. Plus, at any given point on the street, it was totally different than any other place on the street. In some places there were street vendors selling things I couldn't recognize. In some places there were people sleeping on the sidewalk. At some points children tried to beg from us. At one place a building was under construction and had made such a mess of the sidewalk that everyone going past had to walk far out into the street. Although we tried to stay on the sidewalk, at many places it was impossible to do so because of people sleeping, or standing talking, or bathing in the fire hydrant. At first I was rather wary of walking in the street, but I soon realized that if you're trying to get any distance down the street, you have to walk in the street sooner or later, and you can actually cover ground more quickly if you go in the street the whole time. This was a main drag in the city, AJC Bose road, and it was very wide. I noticed that there were no lanes for traffic, but if I had to estimate, there should have been room for three cars on either side. Yet because of all the pedestrians and rickshaws moving along the edge of the street, the cars generally kept to two lanes of traffic per side. I had long since tuned out the constant honking and bell ringing of the traffic.
We walked along the street for another ten minutes but found nothing. We tried going down a side street a little ways, and although it was less crowded, it was obvious we weren't going to find anything. So we eventually decided to go to the hole-in-the-wall we had seen. We went in and sat down at a counter along the wall. I don't really remember if there was a menu. We noticed that some men who came in after us were able to put their orders in before us, or maybe it was that we managed to order, and they they ordered, and then they got their food, and finally we got our food. But we didn't really know what we were supposed to do. Both of us were more used to the Japanese style of prompt service. But we were also on an adventure. I later learned that May had done a considerable amount of traveling, the most unusual country she had been to that I remember best is Mongolia.
Eventually we managed to place an order, and then eventually got our food. We ate with our hands; May offered me a wet tissue she had with her for the occasion. We got a thin curry soup with meat and a thin, flat bread with a salad. It was delicious, but spicy, we could eat the meat out of the soup using the bread, and I think we both ended up ordering more bread. The salad was cabbage with julienned cucumbers and onions. I ate some of it, but then noticed that May wasn't eating hers and only then remembered that it's not safe to eat raw vegetables in India, if you're not native!
After lunch, we headed back to Mother house to go to volunteer orientation at 3pm. On the way, May suggested we stop at one of the sidewalk carts and buy a cup of chai. It was an excellent idea, fascinating to watch how they make it, and very delicious. While we were drinking our chai, we started chatting with two Korean men who were also on their way to orientation, but they weren't sure where it was. We thought we knew, but in reality, we only knew where Mother house was. Orientation was at Shishu Bhavan, a children's home, down the street from Mother house, and actually quite close to where we had our chai, so we ended up walking to mother house and back again.
Outside the front of the house there were two signs on either side of the door. The one on the left said in big, block letters: A SPECIAL WELCOME TO B.M.S. GUEST HOUSE THE PEACE AND THE JOY OF THE LORD BE WITH YOU. The sign on the right side said: EXPECT GREAT THINGS FROM GOD ATTEMPT GREAT THINGS FOR GOD (DR. WILLIAM CAREY). The only reason I remember exactly what it said is because I have a photo that comes in at a later part of the story. I'm including it here because it made a great impression on me; I felt very welcome and glad to be there. The quote from Dr. Carey impressed me, but it didn't click right away that I had read a manga biography about him in Japanese not long before going to India. I now recall learning from that book that he had gone to the Bengali region of East India, even entering India through Calcutta, and he was one of the founders of the Baptist Mission Society, B.M.S., where we were going to stay.
We entered through the screen door and wiped our feet. I think there were small signs directing us to the office, which was through a simple dining room and to the right. The ceilings were very high, which explains why the building looked so large. The office was the only room in the building that was air-conditioned. I almost felt cold in comparison to the heat we had gotten accustomed to. We spoke to the lady in charge, a very pleasant Indian lady. She showed us the dormitory room, and as we were satisfied with it, we went back downstairs to take care of business. The whole process somehow took quite a bit of time. Before leaving the office, I asked her where she usually bought her clothes -- Indian women were so nicely dressed. She gave me the names of two shops and the area where I would find them, Camac Street. Then, May and I went upstairs to settle in.
The room was large, with high ceilings and ceiling fans on long stems. There were three ceiling fans in the room. The windows were taller than they were wide, with long curtains. There were six beds in the room. Two of them obviously already belonged to two other women, who weren't there when we arrived. May and I each chose a bed for ourselves and began to settle in. My bed was next to a large chest of drawers, and I put some of my things in there. To the other side was another bed parallel, and after that the window. There were two bathrooms adjacent to the room and accessible only from our room. One was on the other side of my dresser, the other was on the other side of the room nearer to May's bed. The one near my bed had a sink at the end of a narrow corridor, another room for the toilet, and a third area for the shower, which had a very ancient-looking water heater attached to it. These three rooms shared a ceiling with our room, and above the height of the door frames there were no walls. Although the room was hot, the ceiling fans made it feel quite comfortable. The other bathroom was smaller and more crude, only two rooms, one completely open to our room and obviously used for hanging laundry. The other room had a toilet and something that looked like it could be a shower. But generally, everyone in the room used the bathroom and shower that was near my bed.
After settling in and resting awhile, May and I decided we had better find something to eat for lunch. It was already well after 1pm. So we locked things up (the room locked with a padlock and key, which we brought into the room at night and then dead-bolted from the inside once everyone was in for the night), gave the key to the man at the gate as we had been instructed, and set out.
It was a bit hard to find anything good. We were still a bit wary of trying to cross the big main road, so we just stayed on the same side of that road as our guest house and Mother house. There really wasn't anything. We saw one small hole-in-the-wall shop -- literally, it had no doors or front wall -- but thought we'd keep looking a little while longer. We could always come back to it on our way back if we found nothing better.
It's hard to describe what was there, but that's only due to the fact that there were so many things, people, sights, sounds, smells, that my brain was on sensory overload and I ended up tuning a lot of it out. Plus, at any given point on the street, it was totally different than any other place on the street. In some places there were street vendors selling things I couldn't recognize. In some places there were people sleeping on the sidewalk. At some points children tried to beg from us. At one place a building was under construction and had made such a mess of the sidewalk that everyone going past had to walk far out into the street. Although we tried to stay on the sidewalk, at many places it was impossible to do so because of people sleeping, or standing talking, or bathing in the fire hydrant. At first I was rather wary of walking in the street, but I soon realized that if you're trying to get any distance down the street, you have to walk in the street sooner or later, and you can actually cover ground more quickly if you go in the street the whole time. This was a main drag in the city, AJC Bose road, and it was very wide. I noticed that there were no lanes for traffic, but if I had to estimate, there should have been room for three cars on either side. Yet because of all the pedestrians and rickshaws moving along the edge of the street, the cars generally kept to two lanes of traffic per side. I had long since tuned out the constant honking and bell ringing of the traffic.
We walked along the street for another ten minutes but found nothing. We tried going down a side street a little ways, and although it was less crowded, it was obvious we weren't going to find anything. So we eventually decided to go to the hole-in-the-wall we had seen. We went in and sat down at a counter along the wall. I don't really remember if there was a menu. We noticed that some men who came in after us were able to put their orders in before us, or maybe it was that we managed to order, and they they ordered, and then they got their food, and finally we got our food. But we didn't really know what we were supposed to do. Both of us were more used to the Japanese style of prompt service. But we were also on an adventure. I later learned that May had done a considerable amount of traveling, the most unusual country she had been to that I remember best is Mongolia.
Eventually we managed to place an order, and then eventually got our food. We ate with our hands; May offered me a wet tissue she had with her for the occasion. We got a thin curry soup with meat and a thin, flat bread with a salad. It was delicious, but spicy, we could eat the meat out of the soup using the bread, and I think we both ended up ordering more bread. The salad was cabbage with julienned cucumbers and onions. I ate some of it, but then noticed that May wasn't eating hers and only then remembered that it's not safe to eat raw vegetables in India, if you're not native!
After lunch, we headed back to Mother house to go to volunteer orientation at 3pm. On the way, May suggested we stop at one of the sidewalk carts and buy a cup of chai. It was an excellent idea, fascinating to watch how they make it, and very delicious. While we were drinking our chai, we started chatting with two Korean men who were also on their way to orientation, but they weren't sure where it was. We thought we knew, but in reality, we only knew where Mother house was. Orientation was at Shishu Bhavan, a children's home, down the street from Mother house, and actually quite close to where we had our chai, so we ended up walking to mother house and back again.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
Finding Motherhouse -- (Summer 2009) Calcutta part 3A
August 12 2009
(This is the continuation of my journey through Thailand and India from last August. My apologies for posting it so very long after the event. To start at the beginning, go to http://betsyfrick.blogspot.com/2009/08/adventure-2009-part-1-niigata-farewells.html .)
My Japanese friend and I spent a very pleasant, comfortable night in the boutique hotel. We each had a twin bed to sleep on, and took turns using the shower. She used it before going to sleep, as Japanese people often do, and I used it in the morning. Breakfast was provided for us in a little courtyard through the hallway outside our room: toast with jam, fruit, and coffee. After breakfast we prepared to leave to go find motherhouse. Although my friend was interested in exploring a little, I convinced her that we should find motherhouse first and get a recommendation for where to stay while we are volunteering. We signed the guestbook of the hotel because they brought it to us in our room and asked us to sign it. As I read some of the comments from other guests, I couldn't help but notice that the staff had made notes as to how much of a tip that guest had left. So, since my new friend had only asked for 1/4 of the room cost, I offered to leave the tip. After writing some comments and signing their guestbook, I put the tip in the book and returned it to the responsible staff person.
We set out to find Motherhouse, not really sure even which direction to start going. I had several printed out maps of the city and of the crucial places, but it was still difficult. We got directions to a subway station, and took the subway a few stops closer to where we were needing to go. Unlike Tokyo, there weren't any helpful tourist maps in the subway stations. I can't even remember how we figured out which station to go to, but by asking people and making educated guesses from my maps. Once we got out of the subway, we continued trying to ask people where to find Motherhouse, trying to figure out where we were on the maps. In the end, my friend, I'll call her May, managed to hire a cab for us and the driver took us the rest of the way. It was quite a distance yet to go, and although I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of arriving at Motherhouse in a taxi-cab like some rich tourist, in the end it was the best thing to do. Not only did it get us there faster, but it assured us that we got to the right place. All the streets were so busy, filled with cars and buses and rickshaws and bicycles and pedestrians. It was also starting to get hot.
We arrived at Motherhouse just after 10am. Upon arriving at the entryway we were greeted by two of the sisters, who welcomed us and showed us in. A little ways in we were showed where we should remove and store our shoes before entering, and then were told where to find Mother Teresa's tomb, and a museum about her life. We spent a few quiet moments in the room where her tomb is located. Then we went to look through the little museum. Although it was hot, and I was still carrying all my luggage, which, although small, was starting to feel heavy, I felt compelled to read everything I could. The space wasn't very big, and yet it was filled with rows and rows of tall, movable signboards that went in order, telling the story of her life, sometimes with pictures. They had some of her belongings in a case. After I had read all I could, I went out to the courtyard to sit down. May found me and sat with me. Although I knew we were asked to keep complete silence, we whispered briefly about what to do next. One of the sisters asked us where we were staying, and I said I didn't know but asked for a recommendation. She asked us to wait while she found one of the two sisters who are responsible for helping volunteers. We waited perhaps 10 or 15 minutes before someone came with a book listing places to stay, and that sister recommended the Baptist mission house, and gave us directions to find it just down the street. We thanked her and set out.
(This is the continuation of my journey through Thailand and India from last August. My apologies for posting it so very long after the event. To start at the beginning, go to http://betsyfrick.blogspot.com/2009/08/adventure-2009-part-1-niigata-farewells.html .)
My Japanese friend and I spent a very pleasant, comfortable night in the boutique hotel. We each had a twin bed to sleep on, and took turns using the shower. She used it before going to sleep, as Japanese people often do, and I used it in the morning. Breakfast was provided for us in a little courtyard through the hallway outside our room: toast with jam, fruit, and coffee. After breakfast we prepared to leave to go find motherhouse. Although my friend was interested in exploring a little, I convinced her that we should find motherhouse first and get a recommendation for where to stay while we are volunteering. We signed the guestbook of the hotel because they brought it to us in our room and asked us to sign it. As I read some of the comments from other guests, I couldn't help but notice that the staff had made notes as to how much of a tip that guest had left. So, since my new friend had only asked for 1/4 of the room cost, I offered to leave the tip. After writing some comments and signing their guestbook, I put the tip in the book and returned it to the responsible staff person.
We set out to find Motherhouse, not really sure even which direction to start going. I had several printed out maps of the city and of the crucial places, but it was still difficult. We got directions to a subway station, and took the subway a few stops closer to where we were needing to go. Unlike Tokyo, there weren't any helpful tourist maps in the subway stations. I can't even remember how we figured out which station to go to, but by asking people and making educated guesses from my maps. Once we got out of the subway, we continued trying to ask people where to find Motherhouse, trying to figure out where we were on the maps. In the end, my friend, I'll call her May, managed to hire a cab for us and the driver took us the rest of the way. It was quite a distance yet to go, and although I felt a little embarrassed at the thought of arriving at Motherhouse in a taxi-cab like some rich tourist, in the end it was the best thing to do. Not only did it get us there faster, but it assured us that we got to the right place. All the streets were so busy, filled with cars and buses and rickshaws and bicycles and pedestrians. It was also starting to get hot.
We arrived at Motherhouse just after 10am. Upon arriving at the entryway we were greeted by two of the sisters, who welcomed us and showed us in. A little ways in we were showed where we should remove and store our shoes before entering, and then were told where to find Mother Teresa's tomb, and a museum about her life. We spent a few quiet moments in the room where her tomb is located. Then we went to look through the little museum. Although it was hot, and I was still carrying all my luggage, which, although small, was starting to feel heavy, I felt compelled to read everything I could. The space wasn't very big, and yet it was filled with rows and rows of tall, movable signboards that went in order, telling the story of her life, sometimes with pictures. They had some of her belongings in a case. After I had read all I could, I went out to the courtyard to sit down. May found me and sat with me. Although I knew we were asked to keep complete silence, we whispered briefly about what to do next. One of the sisters asked us where we were staying, and I said I didn't know but asked for a recommendation. She asked us to wait while she found one of the two sisters who are responsible for helping volunteers. We waited perhaps 10 or 15 minutes before someone came with a book listing places to stay, and that sister recommended the Baptist mission house, and gave us directions to find it just down the street. We thanked her and set out.
Tuesday, December 22, 2009
Project Ezra - Luke 2
This Monday I was privileged to participate in Project Ezra again. Although the recommended reading was different this weekend, I still wanted to participate in some way, and I'm glad I did. This weekend, they got teams together to read the whole Gospel of John in the open air. I'm not quite there yet, but I still praise God that they are doing so many exciting things to increase involvement.
Since there are many Japanese people who have very little idea of what Christmas is all about, I chose to read Luke 2. Monday afternoon, the weather was cold but clear and sunny, and I headed out to read in Suido park. Just as I was about to leave, I realized that my very friendly neighbor lady was outside shoveling, and I prayed for boldness to be able to share with her, and prayed that God would save her. She is very easy to talk to, and usually starts the conversations, sometimes to my chagrin if I'm leaving in a hurry. But I do always try to be kind and talk with her a moment. So, as I left my apartment, it was no surprise that she started talking to me and asked where I was going. I explained that I was going to read aloud in Suido park, and somehow or other started reading Luke 2 to her. I only read about half of it, as it was quite cold and I read very slowly in Japanese. I'm also not sure if I was even reading loudly enough, as she kept leaning closer in to hear. Chatting briefly, she seemed happy to hear me read, and wanted to have me read to her again. If I understood her correctly, she's illiterate. I offered her one of my New Testaments, but she didn't accept it because she couldn't read. But she said she was really looking forward to me reading it to her again!
I walked to Suido park then, and it was very cold, but I was filled with praise. Recently my favorite Christmas carol praise songs are O Come All Ye Faithful and Joy to the World. I got to the park which was nearly knee-deep in snow, and so I didn't walk the perimeter, but went straight to my usual tree on a hill. I began to read, and presently, two little girls who were playing at a house across the street came running over. One of them is a student of mine, in second grade, and she also attended the Catholic kindergarten. I told them I was reading the Christmas story from the bible and asked if they wanted to hear it. They said yes and came and stood next to me. So I squatted down so they could see what I was reading, and continued. They listened, but were fidgety, playfully pushing each other. Halfway through I stopped and asked them if they had ever heard that story before. My student had, by virtue of attending the Catholic kindergarten, but the other girl hadn't. I offered them a Christmas present of a New Testament, which they joyfully accepted, thanked me, and ran off, clutching their new treasure and escaping to the warmth of the house. I finished reading the second half, and then went home, praising God and memorizing the new girl's name.
It is such a blessing to be able to have these opportunities, and I want to try and find time to go to the other parks during the week, now that I'm on winter vacation. I don't even mind having gotten a wet backside from squatting in the snow or letting my toes get frostbite. I realize I still have a ways to go in the area of boldness, but I'm excited by the ways God has been using me.
That night too, after orchestra practice, I invited the other horn players and anyone I could, to come to our Christmas Eve candle service. One clarinet player I invited said she couldn't come because she lives so far away. She mentioned the town Kashiwazaki, which is at least two hours away, but maybe doesn't take that long on the tollway. But it started a good conversation where I was able to share the meaning of Christmas and the Gospel with her, which she had never heard before. I want to be more bold, so that I don't miss any of the opportunities I have left! Even though I often come away from such times feeling like I didn't say enough, or didn't make much sense, it's encouraging to remember that it's not about my performance, but about God's grace.
To Him be the Glory!
Since there are many Japanese people who have very little idea of what Christmas is all about, I chose to read Luke 2. Monday afternoon, the weather was cold but clear and sunny, and I headed out to read in Suido park. Just as I was about to leave, I realized that my very friendly neighbor lady was outside shoveling, and I prayed for boldness to be able to share with her, and prayed that God would save her. She is very easy to talk to, and usually starts the conversations, sometimes to my chagrin if I'm leaving in a hurry. But I do always try to be kind and talk with her a moment. So, as I left my apartment, it was no surprise that she started talking to me and asked where I was going. I explained that I was going to read aloud in Suido park, and somehow or other started reading Luke 2 to her. I only read about half of it, as it was quite cold and I read very slowly in Japanese. I'm also not sure if I was even reading loudly enough, as she kept leaning closer in to hear. Chatting briefly, she seemed happy to hear me read, and wanted to have me read to her again. If I understood her correctly, she's illiterate. I offered her one of my New Testaments, but she didn't accept it because she couldn't read. But she said she was really looking forward to me reading it to her again!
I walked to Suido park then, and it was very cold, but I was filled with praise. Recently my favorite Christmas carol praise songs are O Come All Ye Faithful and Joy to the World. I got to the park which was nearly knee-deep in snow, and so I didn't walk the perimeter, but went straight to my usual tree on a hill. I began to read, and presently, two little girls who were playing at a house across the street came running over. One of them is a student of mine, in second grade, and she also attended the Catholic kindergarten. I told them I was reading the Christmas story from the bible and asked if they wanted to hear it. They said yes and came and stood next to me. So I squatted down so they could see what I was reading, and continued. They listened, but were fidgety, playfully pushing each other. Halfway through I stopped and asked them if they had ever heard that story before. My student had, by virtue of attending the Catholic kindergarten, but the other girl hadn't. I offered them a Christmas present of a New Testament, which they joyfully accepted, thanked me, and ran off, clutching their new treasure and escaping to the warmth of the house. I finished reading the second half, and then went home, praising God and memorizing the new girl's name.
It is such a blessing to be able to have these opportunities, and I want to try and find time to go to the other parks during the week, now that I'm on winter vacation. I don't even mind having gotten a wet backside from squatting in the snow or letting my toes get frostbite. I realize I still have a ways to go in the area of boldness, but I'm excited by the ways God has been using me.
That night too, after orchestra practice, I invited the other horn players and anyone I could, to come to our Christmas Eve candle service. One clarinet player I invited said she couldn't come because she lives so far away. She mentioned the town Kashiwazaki, which is at least two hours away, but maybe doesn't take that long on the tollway. But it started a good conversation where I was able to share the meaning of Christmas and the Gospel with her, which she had never heard before. I want to be more bold, so that I don't miss any of the opportunities I have left! Even though I often come away from such times feeling like I didn't say enough, or didn't make much sense, it's encouraging to remember that it's not about my performance, but about God's grace.
To Him be the Glory!
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Come, Lord Jesus, Come, Holy Spirit
"Jesus answered [Nicodemus], "I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and of the Spirit. Flesh gives birth to flesh, but the Spirit gives birth to spirit. You should not be surprised at my saying 'You must be born again.' The wind blows wherever it pleases. You hear its sound, but you cannot tell where it comes from or where it is going. So it is with everyone born of the Spirit." -John 3:5-8
It has taken me a long time to learn this lesson, and I still forget sometimes: I have no control over the salvation of anyone. I thank God that there is nothing that I can do to save someone, nor anything I can do or fail to do which would condemn someone. God desires, even requires my obedience, for my own sake as His child, but nothing depends on me. As Jesus said "The wind blows wherever it pleases." That was especially evident this week.
I haven't read for Project Ezra for several weeks, but last weekend I couldn't resist the urge to go and read in at least one park. I'm still not sure why I stopped before, on one hand, God wasn't sustaining me in it as he had been, and on the other hand I was getting a little self-righteous and needed to pull back and restore my focus on Him rather than on my activities. I suppose God just took the wind out of my sails. This week, the wind started blowing again.
It's the last week of the school year, and I wanted to do a special class for all of my kids. In addition to making Christmas cards with a nativity coloring picture that my friend gave me, I wanted to write a short explanation of the meaning of Christmas on the board. So I asked my boss, can we put "Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is Christ the Lord," up on the whiteboard? Even with the Japanese verse alongside it, she felt none of the kids would understand it. So instead of a bible verse, we put up: "Christmas Day: Today a special baby has been born. His name is Jesus. He has come to save us!" Then I wrote a simple Japanese translation as well.
It was very interesting to see where the wind would blow. It seemed like my fourth grade classes were the most responsive. One little girl said to me, (in Japanese) "Isn't Jesus the one who was nailed to the cross?" That opened the door for me to share the Gospel with her, that he died on that cross to take away the bad things we've done so that we don't have to be punished, if we trust in him. In more than one class, someone asked, "Is that a true story?" To which could testify my faith that it is, and one child then asked, "Were you there when it happened?" I said no, because it was over 2,000 years ago, but I wish I could have been there. Then another girl said she was probably there, assuming she had been reincarnated. But I said, no, each person only dies once. The conversations weren't very long, but they were exciting. I hadn't realized that there were still some kids that didn't understand why we have Christmas.
Online, I found a word search that involved reading Luke's account of the birth of Christ and finding certain highlighted words. I printed it, not even sure if I could use it, but my boss encouraged me to try it with my high school kids for reading practice. Although it was hard to read how they felt about it, they were determined to finish even though it meant going late.
Sometimes, it feels as if there is very little I can do. But the truth is, there is nothing I can do but be obedient to what the Holy Spirit is leading me into. I can't even desire to share my faith without God moving in me; how much less can I be responsible for making my students or friends eager to hear about it. But when the door opens, I still do have a choice: testify or remain silent. Yet from the love God has placed in my heart for these students, it's not much of a choice, because I really want to tell them. The opportunities come, the word is spoken, and the door closes, but I continue to trust that God is in control and will bring to that person all that he desires. Sometimes it is hard to trust, I want to finish the job and enjoy seeing them come to faith, be born again, and enjoy new life in Christ. But God is teaching me that it's not about what I want, but about His will and His glory.
Monday, November 09, 2009
Project Ezra: Praise songs and Ecclesiastes 3
God has blessed me so abundantly! This weekend for Project Ezra, my friend Megumi and I combined our passions for street ministry and spent four hours at the south entrance to Niigata station on Sunday night. She brought her guitar, and I brought my Japanese bible. There were several people sitting around the plaza, and lots of people going past as well. We mostly sang praise songs in Japanese, although a few songs had lyrics in both languages so we sang both in turn. I also sang Revelation Song a cappella. Every now and then, when we were tired from singing or couldn't decide the next song, I would read Ecclesiastes 3, the recommended Project Ezra reading for this week. Altogether, I read it three times. Also, I invited Megumi to read something, and she wanted to read Psalm 139, so she did. Is she the first Japanese Project Ezra member?
We were blessed with mild weather, it was cool but clear, we came prepared and bundled up, and towards the end moved around a bit more to keep warm. But it was probably around 50 degrees, which only feels cold if you're out in it for long enough.
Towards the end, a very drunk Japanese man came and started yelling at us. I had great difficulty understanding everything he was saying, and I wasn't really prepared for what to do. I read the chapter to him, to which he responded with anger and cuss words. At one point I tried asking him what happened to him, why did he get so drunk? I couldn't understand his answers, but Megumi explained that he's the president of a company that has a huge deficit that needed to be paid by the next day and he didn't know what to do. But he wasn't willing to listen to anything we had to say. In the end, a police detective spoke to him and got him to leave us alone, and after he left, Megumi and I prayed for him.
There were actually a lot of police around, conducting a murder investigation. I don't understand all the details, but it seems that the weekend before, the suspect hired a taxi from Niigata station, and then killed the taxi driver to steal his money, and the murderer is still at large. So the police were questioning everyone at the station to find out if they saw anything last weekend. Megumi had talked with them on Saturday night, too, and she told me that police in Japan aren't allowed to read the bible or any other religious book, but that they didn't mind her singing, and were very kind. They didn't seem to be around when I was reading for Project Ezra. Just before leaving, we also prayed for that whole situation: for the murderer to be found and captured, for the police in their work, and for the victim's family. We prayed for justice and comfort, but we also prayed for salvation, for God's grace to be worked out in their lives.
Please pray for us too. It is such a joy to glorify God in this way, but we need more of God's direction, wisdom, and boldness.
Glory be to God alone!
We were blessed with mild weather, it was cool but clear, we came prepared and bundled up, and towards the end moved around a bit more to keep warm. But it was probably around 50 degrees, which only feels cold if you're out in it for long enough.
Towards the end, a very drunk Japanese man came and started yelling at us. I had great difficulty understanding everything he was saying, and I wasn't really prepared for what to do. I read the chapter to him, to which he responded with anger and cuss words. At one point I tried asking him what happened to him, why did he get so drunk? I couldn't understand his answers, but Megumi explained that he's the president of a company that has a huge deficit that needed to be paid by the next day and he didn't know what to do. But he wasn't willing to listen to anything we had to say. In the end, a police detective spoke to him and got him to leave us alone, and after he left, Megumi and I prayed for him.
There were actually a lot of police around, conducting a murder investigation. I don't understand all the details, but it seems that the weekend before, the suspect hired a taxi from Niigata station, and then killed the taxi driver to steal his money, and the murderer is still at large. So the police were questioning everyone at the station to find out if they saw anything last weekend. Megumi had talked with them on Saturday night, too, and she told me that police in Japan aren't allowed to read the bible or any other religious book, but that they didn't mind her singing, and were very kind. They didn't seem to be around when I was reading for Project Ezra. Just before leaving, we also prayed for that whole situation: for the murderer to be found and captured, for the police in their work, and for the victim's family. We prayed for justice and comfort, but we also prayed for salvation, for God's grace to be worked out in their lives.
Please pray for us too. It is such a joy to glorify God in this way, but we need more of God's direction, wisdom, and boldness.
Glory be to God alone!
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
