StudentBlog

Stories written by student volunteering along side the career missionaries in South Asia

Monsoon Summer: “Honk Horn Please!”

By Miriam Snodell

In some cultures, the lines on the road are significant. In those same cultures, the government posts speed limit signs. It is culturally offensive to overuse one’s horn.

In India, it is not uncommon to see a large truck barreling down the center line of a main road (with a heavy load riding uncovered and precarious in the back), sporting a “Honk Horn Please!” sign painted across the rear bumper.

And don’t worry, everybody will respect the sign. In fact, there is so much respect for the sign, that a road without honking is probably a road without traffic.

Rickshaws are an easy form of transportation in India

One of the frequent users of the road is an interesting little auto contraption called the rickshaw. I am confused as to why this ghetto motorized Indian three-wheeled vehicle is referred to as a two-wheeled Chinese human-powered carriage, but hey, who am I to judge?

An Indian rickshaw is a sort of cheap taxi, with room to comfortably fit three in the back (although, this is not to say that more cannot be forced in). The wonderful thing about this tiny taxi is that, although it is larger than the average two-wheeler, it is small enough to dart dangerously in-between implied lanes and shoot across several lanes of busy intersection traffic.

To call the average Indian’s style of driving “opportunistic,” would be erring on the side of politeness. And to say that smaller vehicles drive more safely because of their likelihood to lose in an accident — well, that would be false too.

Like eating live bugs, or bathing naked in a river with 200 of your closest native friends, being a passenger in a rickshaw is a cultural experience.

Miriam Snodell is a student at Union University, serving among South Asian peoples with her summer.

Monsoon Summer: Caught in the Rain

By Miriam Snodell

Nine girls unload out of a tiny taxi-van, clown-car style. They duck into the pouring rain, laughing at the memory of their Indian driver playing Justin Beiber. A fellow native passenger with the foresight to pull out his video phone has a golden upload ready for Indian YouTube.

Memories of the Biebs and “Baby” quickly get washed away in the torrential rainfall, as several city blocks separate the girls from their final destination.

I am one of these girls, and I am laughing just as hard as any of them as we hold hands and run across the street, water from puddles splashing up as high as our shirts. Our shoes squelch ominously underfoot, and I am keenly aware of the complete lack of traction on my worn out flip-flops.

Indians take time to peer curiously through car windows and stop dead on the sidewalk, clueless as to why a pack of dripping girls would be doing what they were doing. Apparently, it is worth the extra dampness to see such an unusual sight.

I have hopes that at least one of these Indian bystanders witnessed me running headlong into a sign, cartoon-style, because none of my friends did. I would like to blame the rain for obscuring my vision, but I’m pretty sure I have just been blessed with a complete lack of spatial awareness.

Less than five minutes later, we encounter a short flight of slippery, downward stairs. Heroically, I take the steps solo, not wanting to hold somebody’s hand and bring them down with me.

In case you were wondering, sitting at the bottom of a flight of stairs is just as humiliating as you think it is. But still, humorous.

Nine girls stand dripping in the lobby of a hotel, not quite so breathless from running that they cannot continue laughing. “Dry fabric” is an unknown concept, and “dignity” is a thought long abandoned. The rainy season has come. Welcome to monsoon summer.

Miriam Snodell is a student at Union University, serving among South Asian peoples with her summer.

Monsoon Summer: Faces of India

Photos by Miriam Snodell and Kate Taylor

By Kate Taylor

I watch a thousand colors flash by through my half-closed eyelids. Green, more vivid than emeralds. Orange as a fire’s flame. Deep crimson, like the petals of a rose in full bloom. The heat of midday and the humidity of monsoon season leave Miriam and me exhausted. We sit mesmerized, watching the hustle and bustle through the plate glass window.

India is a nation full of life and color. Colors drip from the roadside fruit stands, the arrays of spices and the rich fabrics like paint from the palette of a master artist. The people, with their henna-dyed hair or painted hands, bobble their head back and forth in a manner I am not sure I will ever master. They are young and old, rich and poor, the beautiful artwork of a Master Artist. These are the faces of a nation we have already come to love.

Kate Taylor is a student at Union University, serving among South Asian peoples with her summer.

Monsoon Summer: Speaking Like a Native

By Miriam Snodell

My French is okay. My Chinese would keep me from starving. And, I can say “hello,” “thank you” and “not too spicy,” in Thai.

Apparently, I’m not a linguist.

However, my Thai has taught me something very important: Knowing how to say “hello” and “thank you” pleasantly fools me into thinking that I’m a native. The real locals know that I’m deluded, but they usually kindly play along.

I will be honest, I was a bit panicky for the first few hours of my India trip, realizing that I was almost completely without language in an entirely new and foreign country. All I had was “Namaste,” and I was too afraid to use it, for fear that it meant something less kosher than “hello.”

It didn’t take me long to sort that out, thankfully, and before long I was throwing “Dhanyavaad!” [dahn-yeh-vhaad] (“Thank you!”) out there like a pro. By the time I learned “Hello, my name is __________,” I felt in my heart that I was pretty much a Hindi prodigy. And what does every prodigy need, to spread the wealth of their brain matter? That’s right. A student.

My traveling companion, Kate, is a comparative beginner in the Hindi language (my five-day head start in the country has been a real asset for my verbal communication skills). I have begun to school her, using my complete mastery of the vocabulary and sentence structure. She, in turn, has shown me her own prodigious ways, by speaking English to taxi drivers in an Indian accent. I can’t even begin to think how proud her parents will be when they hear.

With these words being said, I have concluded in my mind that our India travel together will be both educational and entertaining. Two college students, three weeks, four cities, one country. We have no guarantee of washing machines anywhere, and that fact alone will make our journey an adventure.

Miriam Snodell is a student at Union University, serving among South Asian peoples during her summer.

One Week in Mumbai: “I realized how callous my heart had become…”

By Adriana Lee*

In spending just a week in Mumbai, the ripple effects are imprinted for a lifetime. Traveling over to India to serve in the slums was such an experience that I couldn’t even begin to conjure up the words in my mind.

The first thing someone may think when walking through the slums can easily be pity, agony, or can even become rage that the human life has to endure this. However, it’s not until walking into each house and surrounded by pitch darkness with nothing more than a small flame to see their faces, you begin to realize the greater need.

Being able to share the Good News of Christ to each person and realizing that this was the first time they had ever heard the name Jesus Christ, shifts the focus from seeing a poverty stricken community to an empty individual in need of a Savior. So willingly and eagerly did they listen as though they didn’t want to miss a single word coming from our lips.

Within my mind, I was realizing how callous my heart had become. As many came to lay down their false gods and came into a relationship with the one true God, several times I kept thinking, “This is not happening.”

I was reminded of the verse in Mark 9:24 where the Father states, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief.” So, often I say that I trust Him, but do I truly believe who God says He is?

From interacting with the people of Mumbai, I began to feel the pages of the Bible come alive. Picturing Jesus walking through similar scenarios as He shares, prays, and heals so many, it was truly a testament of the working power of God to be able to go and share His message, pray with people and heal in the name of Jesus.

The beautiful part was how much this lined up with Luke 10 and how the seventy-two returned with joy. Just as they did, we also know that the ultimate joy comes from being able to rejoice that our names are written in heaven and that we serve a God not limited by human hands.

—30—

*Name changed.

Adriana Lee is a student at Virginia Commonwealth University in Richmond, Virginia. She recently spent one week in Mumbai, India.

The challenge is in the contrasts

By Nathan Douthit

DELHI, India — I am not sure I could’ve imagined such a place of contrasts. South Asia has a western façade but an eastern heart; extravagant riches and the lowest depths of poverty; the most spiritual darkness I have ever seen but the place where I have seen the light of the Christ shine brightest. It is not only a place with so many helpless, hopeless, and hurting, but also the place where I’ve seen the help, hope and healing of the Gospel lived out in real, tangible ways unlike I have ever seen in the US. Being in South Asia changes you.

It’s one thing to hear the statistics of poverty, starvation, and preventable disease. It’s another thing to look into the eyes of children who were left by their family because they couldn’t afford to take care of them. It’s one thing to hear of demonic oppression, idol worship, animal (and sometimes human) sacrifice, and the persecuted church.  But to look into the eyes of the people who are afflicted by these things makes it real. How can I go back home the same?

My view of the Father has become even higher, my relationship with Christ even more real and personal, and my reliance on the Holy Spirit more complete. I have a responsibility now to what I’ve seen. As Luke 12:48b says: “From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked.”

If you don’t want your world rocked, and your life changed, you had better stay away from South Asia. If you want to improve your relationship with God and see what it means to live out the Gospel, come, serve, and see Jesus on a whole new level.

—30—

Nathan Douthit is a student at Auburn University. He spent last summer in South Asia. For more on short-term opportunities, http://southasianpeoples.imb.org/special-interest/sa101/

Common Hearts: My first few days in India

By Heather Darnell

Locals shop for fruit in a popular market area.

BANGALORE, India — Men and women walk on the sides of the crowded roads in their saris, salwar kamise suits, kurtas, and dhotis (all words I have recently learned to describe Indian clothing). Motorbikes weave between the busses, cars, pedestrians and bicycles … I struggle to focus on one thing at a time. My husband and I are in India for two weeks, which now seems like a laughable amount of time to learn the pace of life and the rhythm of this city. This is my first time in Asia and I am convinced that everyone can tell by just looking at my sweaty, overwhelmed face.

While I feel decidedly out of my comfort zone, I can’t deny that there is something strangely familiar about India. It’s not that I recognize the Kannada words written on the store front signs, the foods on the menu, or even the cadence of those speaking my own language. But I do recognize the familiarity of people doing the same exact things I’m used to doing every day; things like going to work and to the grocery store, cleaning houses and taking care of children. We all try to find meaning in our lives by trusting in our rituals and creating our man-made gods instead of submitting to the one true God.

Now, I don’t worship a statue named Shiva or a cow standing in the middle of a busy road; I disguise the gods in my life by calling them socially acceptable (American) names. I prioritize things like “comfort,” “education,” and “middle class status.” I look to entertainment, social activity, good deeds and even church involvement to appease the nagging thoughts in my deluded mind that tell me that Jesus is not enough.

But Jesus is enough. Philippians 3:8-11 says: “Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God that depends on faith- that I may know him and the power of his resurrection, and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.”

I share a common bond with the Indian people, whose culture I do not yet understand. We all need the Gospel for our salvation. The sins of our hearts are the same. We may live in different parts of the world and speak different languages, but I need to relinquish my idols just as much as they do.

—30—

Heather Darnell, a student at southeastern seminary in North Carolina, recently spent two weeks in India learning about the culture and praying for South Asian peoples.

What’s My Response?

What’s My Response?

Before I came to South Asia, I wasn’t too concerned about beggars. In my Texas suburban life, I hardly encountered a beggar, and if I did, I awkwardly passed by, usually doing nothing to help. Every once in a while I would help at a soup kitchen or give my lunch to a homeless man just so I would not feel guilty, but I never let myself wrestle with living a life following Christ’s commands and truth about loving the poor. After being in South Asia for a few weeks, I realized my philosophy and actions were neither correct nor appropriate.

In South Asia, beggars are a common sight. Much of their plight comes from the remains of the caste system as well as Hindu beliefs. Even though the economy is slowly improving and offering more opportunities to the average citizen, many remain in a low caste due to the Hindu belief that it is bad karma to change your societal standing. It is a view that one must endure the life given to him or her. Because of this, many look down on beggars and refuse to help them.

When I arrived in one of the urban areas of South Asia, I was bombarded with the poverty and cultural differences. At every traffic light, beggar children reached into my auto and mumbled phrases I could not understand, attempting to gain a few rupees. I felt slightly compelled to do something but soon became overwhelmed and annoyed with the situation. I wondered how I could help the situation when there were so many beggars. Even if I gave to one, there were still millions of others who needed help. Since I didn’t know what to do, I just prayed. I prayed that God would help me know what to do and that He would in some way show the beggars that He loved them and had eternal life for them.

A couple of weeks later, I was now at my ministry site and spending some time grocery shopping. I walked by an old lady sitting on the steps into the store, weakly holding out her hands to those who passed by. The look in her eyes was dull and of one resigned to her position in life.

As I walked by, I gently smiled at the woman, said a prayer for her and then went into the store, focused on getting my groceries. A few isles into the store, it happened – I was convicted. The Lord softened my heart and I realized that I had just ignored the answer to my prayer for the beggars a couple of weeks ago. I finally realized that the person who is supposed to act and love these people is me.

When I left the store, I intentionally walked right by the beggar woman, but instead of walking away, I stopped and handed her some of the groceries I had purchased. I didn’t speak her language so I could not tell her about Christ’s love for her, but I prayed that she saw Jesus’ love through me.

After that experience, I wish I could tell you that I know how to help every beggar, but I don’t. To be honest, I am still overwhelmed with knowing where to start to help this situation. But what I learned and am attempting to now live out is to be obedient and to listen to the Holy Spirit. I believe the Holy Spirit compelled me to help the woman I saw that day at the grocery store. My prayer now is that I am sensitive to His leading so that I know how to take action when He lays it on my heart to help a beggar or another person I pass by.

By Annie Rosner*, a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 spring semester

A Valuable Lesson Learned

A Valuable Lesson Learned

Walking down the streets of South Asia, taking in the bustling crowd, with people left and right of me wanting me to buy their products, I gazed up and saw a familiar symbol on a building. As I looked closer, a cross came into view and beneath it a beautiful cathedral. I hadn’t seen one up close here yet, so I made my way through the vendors to get to it.

As I approached, I wasn’t prepared for what was going on. Statues of Mary and other saints were set up throughout the complex. People had flowers and candles that they placed by the statues. They bowed down to the marble and prayed to it. In the courtyard of the cathedral, people were selling these flowers and other items to give as an offering to “God.”

What I wasn’t prepared for was blatant idol worship in a Christian church. If there hadn’t been a cross on top of the building and some Christian writings, I would have thought it was a Hindu temple. I imagine that they just bring their different backgrounds into Christianity. This is how they know to worship. The vendors inside the gates reminded me of when Jesus came into the temple courts and was so angry with all of the selling and cheating going on there, how he just came in and overturned the tables. What would he do if he saw people bowing down to a statue of his mother Mary and him? I imagine Him saying, “Those things were made by human hands. I came to earth for you to have a personal relationship with me, not with an idol.”

It got me thinking. Even though they outwardly worship idols, what is the difference between that and what I do? Every day I give into my own selfish wants and desires. I covet what other people have. I become overly consumed with things. I myself worship all sorts of idols, just in secret. How can I judge and condemn something that I do in myself?

It’s amazing what you can learn here. The Bible becomes real. The things that happened to the New Testament churches are occurring here. I can choose to learn from it, or I can pretend that it doesn’t apply to my own life. Although I wasn’t prepared for what I saw that day, I also wasn’t prepared for God to reveal that we all are guilty of this sin.

Written by Nicola Broden*, a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 spring semester

South Asia—what an amazing place!

South Asia—what an amazing place! Where to begin?

I am here teaching music to students at a Christian school. Besides teaching, I am taking lessons while I am here. I was given the choice to take singing, dance or instrumental. I thought since I would be singing all day at the school, I should do something different. So I chose to dance.

I have had the greatest privilege of getting to better understand the Hindu culture first hand through a classical dance called Bharatanatyam. This is nothing like American dancing. I used to dance in the States, so I thought, “Okay, this wont be so bad, right?” Wrong! It is extremely challenging. But what they do is remarkable.

This is a unique way of story telling. The Hindu culture has a lot of stories about all their gods, so they dance to it. In this particular form of dance, they have a live singer, a few typical Indian instruments, and a dancer in the middle. She will act out the story as it is being told to the audience. I had no idea what I was getting myself into when I started! But once I figured out what it really is that they do, I was so excited because I could tell a story about Jesus in a way that all these Hindus would love and understand!

What I do is tell my teacher a story from the Bible, then we find traditional music that will go along with the story. She plays it and teaches me a dance from the steps that I have previously learned. I am excited to learn my first story here soon. At the end of my term here, I will have a “show” and have lots of my dance teacher’s friends and students come watch me do this dance. All of them will get to hear a story about Jesus.

This has been a life-changing experience—and one amazing work out. I hope that other believers will join with me and dance to share the Gospel with these people!

*Written by a Hands-On student serving in South Asia for the 2009 fall semester.