In the Internet cafe and it's just started pouring with rain. It's been raining quite a bit recently which means it's cooler, but my clothes get pretty dirty pretty quickly. I'm trying to hold out for the last few days and dreaming of the luxury of the washing machine back home. I'm also dreaming of eating fish and salad and fruit, of a hot bath and being clean for longer than the 30secs it takes me to walk from the shower to my room. Dreaming of going out for the day without the ritual of sun lotion and deet spray. Dreaming of wearing socks. I'm dreaming of laying in bed and going to sleep to the sound of "Sailing By".
Friday at Anandaloy was great. The girls brought some CD's for the lads to decorate with Bible verses etc. which they enjoyed. Played some Carrom. Finished by taking the devotions, on the torn curtain again since these lads hadn't done this with me and I like to make most use of the preparation! They seemed to appreciate it. Bapi, about 14 years old?, was a great translator. When I asked them if they knew about the temple curtain he essentially went through my entire lesson, through the duties of the high priest once a year down to the meaning of the torn curtain. They know their stuff. I'm hoping to consider Gideon a little with them this week. "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." - Memory Verse.
Covered that a little this morning with the group at New Market. A little more difficult this time since I didn't have an an adult translator, but the older kids helped out a lot. I went through the basic story of Gideon's call via pictures. A scared farmer turned into a mighty warrior by God. Finishing, as ever, with the memory verse and some colouring in. They were also practising some singing which they will be performing this afternoon at Rippon St on tele.
The project leader pointed out one of the homes of the kids. Opposite the small hut we hold the group in is a building that looks like a warehouse. It has an entrance in one end which reveals a long corridor that runs the length of the building, crowded with people and clothes and pots etc. At the door is a ladder that goes 6ft up to the second story where one of the kids live. Opposite that I happened to glance through the wall of the building and wave to another member of the group in her home. The project leader, whoose name I'm yet to remember successfully , promised to show me around the slum and visit some of the kids homes tomorrow.
Friday at Anandaloy was great. The girls brought some CD's for the lads to decorate with Bible verses etc. which they enjoyed. Played some Carrom. Finished by taking the devotions, on the torn curtain again since these lads hadn't done this with me and I like to make most use of the preparation! They seemed to appreciate it. Bapi, about 14 years old?, was a great translator. When I asked them if they knew about the temple curtain he essentially went through my entire lesson, through the duties of the high priest once a year down to the meaning of the torn curtain. They know their stuff. I'm hoping to consider Gideon a little with them this week. "I can do everything through him who gives me strength." - Memory Verse.
Covered that a little this morning with the group at New Market. A little more difficult this time since I didn't have an an adult translator, but the older kids helped out a lot. I went through the basic story of Gideon's call via pictures. A scared farmer turned into a mighty warrior by God. Finishing, as ever, with the memory verse and some colouring in. They were also practising some singing which they will be performing this afternoon at Rippon St on tele.
The project leader pointed out one of the homes of the kids. Opposite the small hut we hold the group in is a building that looks like a warehouse. It has an entrance in one end which reveals a long corridor that runs the length of the building, crowded with people and clothes and pots etc. At the door is a ladder that goes 6ft up to the second story where one of the kids live. Opposite that I happened to glance through the wall of the building and wave to another member of the group in her home. The project leader, whoose name I'm yet to remember successfully , promised to show me around the slum and visit some of the kids homes tomorrow.
Yesterday was a relaxing Sunday. Tony Sargent of ICC is visiting and preached. He's a long time supporter of EMC.
He also spoke at a memorial service this morning for Vijayan Pavamani at the school grounds where he's buried. Claire and Becky represented the team there. Sunday afternoon we walked around the Victoria Memorial again so Claire could see it and visited the Indian Museum which resembles a 1920's archeology research centre.
For our last Saturday, I and another visited the Kali Temple, which was quite an experience. The street leading to the temple are swarming with Brahmin's who will guide you around the temple for just Rs11, plus a charitable donation which they'd like to be at least Rs500 (I gave less, but sufficient to be allowed to leave), plus the Rs100 that they insist on having at the end for no apparent reason. We were ushered into a room off the street first to deposit sandals and collect flowers, then into to the temple area. It's small and, as everywhere else around it, very crowded with stalls selling flowers and food, many beggars and many devotees circling the central building to get a turn to look into Kali's black face. All very mysterious and frenetic. We were shown the small area and blood stained posts where a goat is sacrificed each morning, and a buffalo once a year. People praying, their heads on the posts, whilst we were there. More to be said. It's quite a contrast to the time I've spent with the projects and in the church here, worshipping the one true living God.
Next door to the temple is one of Mother Theresa's home for the destitute and dying, deliberately placed at the gate way to hell it seems.
He also spoke at a memorial service this morning for Vijayan Pavamani at the school grounds where he's buried. Claire and Becky represented the team there. Sunday afternoon we walked around the Victoria Memorial again so Claire could see it and visited the Indian Museum which resembles a 1920's archeology research centre.
For our last Saturday, I and another visited the Kali Temple, which was quite an experience. The street leading to the temple are swarming with Brahmin's who will guide you around the temple for just Rs11, plus a charitable donation which they'd like to be at least Rs500 (I gave less, but sufficient to be allowed to leave), plus the Rs100 that they insist on having at the end for no apparent reason. We were ushered into a room off the street first to deposit sandals and collect flowers, then into to the temple area. It's small and, as everywhere else around it, very crowded with stalls selling flowers and food, many beggars and many devotees circling the central building to get a turn to look into Kali's black face. All very mysterious and frenetic. We were shown the small area and blood stained posts where a goat is sacrificed each morning, and a buffalo once a year. People praying, their heads on the posts, whilst we were there. More to be said. It's quite a contrast to the time I've spent with the projects and in the church here, worshipping the one true living God.
Next door to the temple is one of Mother Theresa's home for the destitute and dying, deliberately placed at the gate way to hell it seems.
This afternoon I'll be in Anandaloy once more, where Tony Sargent is joining them I believe. He's had a lot of involvement with the home there. So I'm heading into the rain for a cup of tea before I get into the metro.
A cup of cold water in the name of Christ: Friday night a group of us took a lad to KFC. He sells chewing gum on the streets near the YWCA and we also know him from the Pavement Clubs. They wouldn't let him into the Chinese we were originally heading for. So he had a little KFC chicken and fries and an ice cream, his little stomach not coping with much. We played with a balloon and afterwards I lent him some hair wax so that he could do his hair like Beckham. The KFC guy who served us stood around and waited on us. Excellent service but possibly just because there was a street kid in the restaurant. Still, they served him and I think he enjoyed his evening.
Kolkata's filling up with Euro backpackers. I'm starting to resent this foreign invasion. Who are these mere tourists? A little arrogant, or confused maybe, for me to be thinking myself as separate from the travelling tourist, but I'm glad I'm here with Tearfund and EMC. Not sure how I'd react to be walking down the streets between the sleeping families and begging children just sightseeing, feeling even more useless than I do already. Think I've got used to the fact that poverty surrounds us, but it hurts when you see people made in the image of God left on the pavement as refuse, it hurts when you have to refuse help to a begging child in obedience to the received wisdom of what's best. In fact I think it's hurting more as time goes on. I'm so glad I'm here actually getting to know some of those living in the slums, those rescued from living on the station and addiction. I'm glad that the pictures I have are of Indians I know, and have the privilege of counting as family.
There's no better way to do a first trip to India.
How cool is this, I'm in Kolkata!
A cup of cold water in the name of Christ: Friday night a group of us took a lad to KFC. He sells chewing gum on the streets near the YWCA and we also know him from the Pavement Clubs. They wouldn't let him into the Chinese we were originally heading for. So he had a little KFC chicken and fries and an ice cream, his little stomach not coping with much. We played with a balloon and afterwards I lent him some hair wax so that he could do his hair like Beckham. The KFC guy who served us stood around and waited on us. Excellent service but possibly just because there was a street kid in the restaurant. Still, they served him and I think he enjoyed his evening.
Kolkata's filling up with Euro backpackers. I'm starting to resent this foreign invasion. Who are these mere tourists? A little arrogant, or confused maybe, for me to be thinking myself as separate from the travelling tourist, but I'm glad I'm here with Tearfund and EMC. Not sure how I'd react to be walking down the streets between the sleeping families and begging children just sightseeing, feeling even more useless than I do already. Think I've got used to the fact that poverty surrounds us, but it hurts when you see people made in the image of God left on the pavement as refuse, it hurts when you have to refuse help to a begging child in obedience to the received wisdom of what's best. In fact I think it's hurting more as time goes on. I'm so glad I'm here actually getting to know some of those living in the slums, those rescued from living on the station and addiction. I'm glad that the pictures I have are of Indians I know, and have the privilege of counting as family.
There's no better way to do a first trip to India.
How cool is this, I'm in Kolkata!
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