Day 14 - Delhi Belly (Body and Soul)

Things have slowed down significantly since coming back from Hisar.  I'm finally fully adjusted to the time change, and subsequently, I now have no problem sleeping in if I wanted to or if I could, which is both convenient and inconvenient at the same time; it feels nice to sleep in some but mornings are also the best time to pray, especially here. 

The heat has lessened in intensity, which is a plus; we've even had some rain in the past few days, and I was also able to witness a spectacular lightning storm from our rooftop in Delhi. Some of the bolts of lightning I saw were so brilliant and felt so close when they struck that I was instinctively forced to take a few steps back for fear of my life - seriously. It was beautiful and inspiring.  I realize now standing there on the rooftop in the middle of a lightning storm probably wasn't the wisest idea - oh well - but I don't get to see many lightning storms in California, so I thought I would take full advantage of the situation, whether that meant death or not. 

Two nights ago I started feeling a little ill, and by the morning after I had been properly introduced to Delhi Belly. And let me tell you, it's not very friendly. I'm sure you can deduce yourself what the symptoms of Delhi Belly entail. So I'll spare you the details. I am feeling better now, although I still feel the remnants of that terrible day, having had to only urgently frequent the bathroom a few times. Truthfully, I have my team to thank for nursing me back to health and for mothering me so well during that unpleasant time. Thanks team! 

For the past week my team and I have been scouting out places to see where Indians our age gather in large numbers. One place recommended for us to check out was the mall nearby, which, duh, makes perfect logical sense - just as much as some countries differ from one another, they can be just as much similar in other ways, and young people gravitating toward malls is no exception here. However, I'm not so much interested in sharing the interactions we had there with Indians - we met quite a few people, talked about religion and so forth, and even scored a a free CD from a local Indian alternative-rock band. But while we were indifferently perusing mall stores, about to leave, a question came to my mind:  What am I doing here? I'm not sure why I asked myself this, and, depending on the answer I gave myself, I wasn't sure at the time what would be required of me as a result of that answer. I knew the right answer, but I found no feeling behind it. And as much as I wanted to avoid the question, I couldn't. 

There are times when you can't but feel as though you are acting some part you've trained your whole life to be good at playing. You've become so good at all the nuances and details of that character that you even convince yourself of its truthfulness, that the mask you wear is really your own face. The frightening thing is, however, that when you suddenly come to your senses, things are brought into the light, and suddenly you're able to look at your true face for what seems like the first time.

So standing there in the mall, asking myself this question of what I was doing in India, I began to feel this very reality. And honestly part of me was ready to pack my bags and go home. Part of me wanted to admit that this was not the place I was meant to be, that some mistake had been made - because I was not feeling for these Indian people walking all around me in the mall like I should have been; I was not brokenhearted that so many of them were in bondage to the teachings and rituals of Hinduism. Actually, I wasn't sure what I felt for them at all. I think I might have been slightly annoyed by them.

So I searched deep inside of me for a glimpse of hope in my soul, for anything that would tell me there is some vestige of Christ left in me. It wasn't until later that I came to some kind of answer. After just leaving the mall, my team and I ran into a large group of Indian college students sitting on a flight of stairs just outside the mall. The students seemed to be entranced by our American presence, and so we took that as a good enough reason to say hello and ask a few questions. During our conversation with these people, something came over me; I felt as though someone had unlocked the key to my feelings, and as a result I was able to engage these people with my whole being, with my mind and my heart. I felt genuinely interested in their lives, not only cultural level, but more importantly, on a spiritual level. I wanted to share the gospel with them, and as a team, we did, though they didn't look remotely interested in believing what we had to say. 

I don't know if I can articulate the impression I felt, but through that transaction, I think I came to this answer: I am here to learn how to find joy in getting to know and conversing with people, and in so doing, learn to find joy in sharing the gospel with people. I just read recently from a Russian Orthodox monk that whatever the Holy Spirit touches, there is immense and incomprehensible joy and peace. In this strange land, even if I feel nothing that I ought to feel as a follower of Christ, I am here to experience the joy and peace of the Holy Spirit, so that hopefully I might be of some use for God's kingdom in this place.