bethelehem. again.

Palestine is my land, and I won’t let you take it – and while you put the world to sleep, I try to wake it.
-Rashid, 11th grade




I find myself saying to Christians who seek a devotional pilgrimage to the Holy Land: Yes! Go! Walk where Jesus walked! For you will not only walk where he walked but you will see what he saw. You will see land taken through illegal laws and the tread of soldier’s boots. You will see the attempt to destroy community and family through the taking of farms and the destruction of village life. But you will also see nonviolent resistance: in demonstrations against the separation wall, in families of Palestinians and Jews who have lost children to the conflict coming together and refusing to be enemies, and in farmers who refuse to abandon their land, even as the walls go up, the restrictions on movement tighten, and the everyday harassment and violence against them intensifies. -excerpt from "Rededicating the Temple: A Hanukah Homily," Mondoweiss, posted on 11 Dec 09

update on settlements in west bank

more on the story i wrote about last night- jewish settlers in the west bank and those who support the settlement movement are currently protesting outside israeli prime minister benjamin netanyahu's house. netanyahu is caught in the awkward place of attempting to curb his own citizens' fierce determination to expand the settlements in the west bank and thus comply with international law, or not.

i'm fairly convinced that were this anywhere else in the world, or between any other people groups, the entire situation would have been squashed long ago and both sides would be in some way forced to comply with international law. just my two cents.


for further reading:  here's an article on what it's like to live as a palestinian in the occupied territories near jewish settlements (even if you just skim it, do it!), here's an article on a palestinian family expelled from their home in east jerusalem to make room for settlers, and here's one on the broader (though incredibly convoluted) issues of borders and settlements.

bethlehem: thoughts on the occupation at christmastime

it's crazy to think it's christmas already. i think feeling "in the christmas spirit" for most of the month of december is something fairly unique to little kids, but this year i'm not sure what to make of all of this. we sing carols like, 'o little town of bethlehem' and talk about the birth of Jesus in an inn there, but we don't stop for a second to think about what's going on in bethlehem today. we sing about quaint little bethlehem- fields full of sheep, dark streets on silent nights underneath starry skies- thousands of years ago.

el-walajah, suburb of bethlehem, suburb of jerusalem: palestinian houses continually demolished.

the occupied west bank (which contains bethlehem) and settlements: jewish zionist settlers ignore prime minister netanyahu's plea that the (illegal) settlers stop (illegally) settling in palestinian territory.

al-ma'asara, village/ suburb of bethlehem: palestinians and internationals stand in solidarity every week in protest of the occupation and the (illegal) jewish settlers in the neighboring village of efrat.

around the entire west bank (or, in judeo christian language, 'biblical judea and samaria): an 8 meter (~30 ft) high wall made of concrete imported from the US, topped with barbed wire stands between the occupied palestinian territories and israel. 75% of the wall was built on palestinian land as per the established 1967 palestinian-israeli borders. it literally cuts villages in half. it circles around aquifers and fertile land, designating them as part of israel. it is over 400 miles long. bethlehem is walled in.

true, the quaintness of biblical bethlehem sounds much better in a carol than housing demolitions or concrete walls, but i certainly don't think this should keep us from knowing and caring and loving and doing something about this.

no war, no wall

photo by anna westlund

oh, little town of bethlehem

Oh, little town of Bethlehem...




No ear may hear His coming,
    But in this world of sin,
Where meek souls will receive Him still,
    The dear Christ enters in.

promise i will post photos and more thoughts over these next few days.

things i'm still thinking about: israel's collective memory, eid al- adha, the "security fence" around bethlehem and the entire west bank, housing demolitions, friends across the world and humanizing the other.

love, love.

jerusalem = love.

ok. seriously, a lot going on. in favor of a coherent, attempt at eloquent here are my thoughts, reactions and feelings to the things we've been seeing and experiencing this past week.

jerusalem: i will never, ever grow tired of hearing the call to prayer echo across the skies. shabbat. ultra-orthodox, neo-orthodox, un-orthodox bow, pray and sing at the western wall while the call to prayer fills the sky above, from al-aqsa and across the city. jews in kippa, in shtreimel, in long coats with tassels and earlocks, underneath 'allahu akbar' from minaret to minaret. the yeshiva students in their stereotypical american clothes put their arms around each other's shoulders and dance and jump in circles, celebrating the shabbat shalom. pilgrims of all 3 faiths pressing down the streets, the settlers with their tambourines and intense sense of divine right, despite the riff between the secular and the sacred... incense and hymns in harmony and genuine, prayers for the peace of this city, this country from the heart. cats, cats, cats.

galilee: peaceful waters, tiny chapels, beautiful rolling hills. a reminder that our Lord, too, was human, walked these roads. sailed this sea. the mount of beattitudes: blessed are the peacemakers, even here, in this place. especially here, in this place.

golan heights: lush, fertile, scarred by anti-tank trenches and old army bunkers and not-so-distant memories of a war over territory. climbing a military mountain to see (almost) all the way to damascus, to lebanon, to majdal shams and the UN's control over these borders...

nazareth: sleepy, despite all the racket. church of the ascension: bells. gorgeous mosaics of mary surrounding her stone house, carols. more bells. big, white christmas-y lights above the streets to usher in the coming of eid.

there are a few things that i really love about this place. i mean, there are a lot of things i enjoy, but i love, love waking up to intermittent church bells and the call to prayer. i love the smell of shwarma (most of the time), of incense in old, old churches.

we've talked with combatants for peace, with abouna elias chacour, with andy david and ophir yarden, with jonathan kaplan and michael honigstein.
we've been to yad vashem, to the church of ascension in nazareth, to mount herzl. to the arab quarter, the jewish quarter, the christian quarter. we've been to tel aviv and to jaffa (love!). the western wall, the church of the holy sepulcher/ resurrection, the ruins of herod's temple.

i still can't believe this group of college kids gave up their lunch money to share this experience with me. i'm so, so thankful- for all that i'm being challenged with and exposed to, for being able to learn more of j's context, and for being able to share in this with each of them!

yad vashem. mt hertzl... not really sure what to say, just thought i should say something.

old city jerusalem

after a brief stint in frankfurt, germany with my dear, random friend bekah (apfelwein, bratwurst and saurkraut, altstadt frankfurt and yes, frankensteinplatz), i've finally arrived in jerusalem. it's good to be back- especially as i didn't expect being able to return so soon. i still can't believe these MESPers brought me here!

we're staying in the austrian hospice on the via dolorosa- it's funny to me that everyone around me is still speaking german though i switched countries. :)

all for now- mostly just wanted to let the 2 people who read this know that i've arrived safely and i'm so happy to be here!

israeli politics tomorrow. and lastly, no more long distance engagements.

leaves in 2 hours...

the timing of this trip has been a God-send. i'm not sure i could handle another stinking day without dear jonathan pinckney. :)

sitting on my floor... 12:58pm. leaving in a few hours for the airport. am i packed? no.  my dutch-canadian friend dena thinks it's genetic- those dutch roots protest loudly every time we try to pick up something and put it in a suitcase until the absolutely last second... if she's right, i can claim that it's not my fault that my hatred for packing drives me to hold off until i absolutely have to pack something. whatever it is, i've learned to stop fighting it. i think i'm less stressed than your average traveler because i don't start worrying about what's going in my suitcase until the last second possible. but anyway... i'm going to seriously stop using this blog as a platform to procrastinate. i know i've said that before, but this time i mean it.

has anyone else ever noticed that the only time the labels 'packing' and 'procrastinating' show up on this blog is when i don't want to be doing either of those things, but can't seem to help it? :)

i will be here tomorrow. and then i will be here on sunday (ok, maybe not exactly there, at the beach in tel aviv, but whatever.)

and lastly- thanks everyone for the emails, texts and phone calls as i'm off. i'm sorry i haven't had a chance to respond to very many of them. i'm hoping life will normalize a bit when i get back. love you all.

the lament.

i'm packing. that's right, more than 20 minutes before i have to go to bed/ walk out the door. believe it.

but also believe i'm going to quit and wait on the stuff in the dryer (what's a trip without a little last minute doing of laundry!?) and to both do and write out what i've been doing for yoga.

you can lead a horse to water...

i leave tomorrow.

no, i haven't packed yet. of course not. it's part of my identity. :)

engagement photos!

in the past 4 weeks...

i have eaten chicken curry, prawn curry, mutton curry, veg curry in india, mangoes, fuul, tamiyya, roz bi-leben, shwarma in egypt, falafels and nutella pancakes and thai food and pizza with wine and kosher bagels in israel.

i have been to the wailing wall, and seen the apartheid wall.

i have hugged kids and cried and laughed and sang, swam in the mediterranean and the bay of bengal. i have listened to conversations in arabic, telugu, hebrew, yiddish.

i have walked the old city, coptic cairo, hyderabad. i listened to hymns at the church of the holy sepulcher, sang songs at church in an orphanage, visited a museum of art from the coptic church. i have been to a church of expats in a suburb of cairo.

i have listened to the soundtrack to king countless times. i have listened to arabic pop, patty griffin, derek webb. this american life. j's lunch song. i've shared an i.pod and a zune for countless hours of travel. i've listened to car horns and calls to prayer and songs in telugu that warm my heart.

i have slept on trains, on planes, on couches, on mattresses on the floor, on buses and in taxis and graciously loaned beds. i have even slept on half a bed on a sleeper train.

all of this, this entire adventure, i shared with the one i'll share the rest of my life with. i'm so incredibly thankful for these past 4 weeks, and to say that i'm looking forward to the future is a gross understatement. God is so good.

goodbye, my heart.

khan al-khalili: scarab beetles, shisa and mosque toppers.

felucca ride on the nile.

is this my life? is it real? i still can't shake this feeling that soon i'll wake up and this whole thing will dissipate, that, like a dream, i'll only have fleeting memories of all of this by the end of the day.

it's truly amazing how much a year can do, how drastically some 365 days can change the course of one's life. i am so, so thankful for this gift- this past month, this promise of a future. i can scarcely believe that this is forever.

or, that this trip is over.

salaam for now.

i love my life.

garbage city. wow.

it makes me deeply convicted to consume less. it deeply re-enforces my beliefs on living simply, on globally conscious consumption, on stopping to THINK where my money, my waste, my excess goes... and who it hurts.

date night. dinner on the nile and sufi dancing at the khan. holy wow.

7 years ago i became weirdly intrigued by whirling dervishes. tonight, j took me to see them. i just sat next to him and grinned the whole time.

at one point i leaned over and said, 'did you know i've wanted to see this for 7 years?'

he smiled at me and said, 'when you talk, i listen.'

on safety and home

back in cairo.
salat and smog.
and this feeling of familiarity, of home.

did i feel safe in israel?

i suppose in all of the conventional ways, yes. i mean, stories of bombings in sbarro and other trendy young hang outs didn't really scare me. it's the kids with guns, the settlers, the explosions in the distance and the uncertainty as to whether they're fireworks or semi-automatic weapons that frighten me.

i never really feared for my own safety, but for the palestinian kids trying to walk to school every day, for the jewish kids who would grow up and join the idf and be socialized to fear, to hate, to defend at any cost that i feared for.

again, i understand why jesus stood here and grieved for this city.

home is relative.

i had every intention of uploading the photos both mata ji and grace took of j and i, but this internet connection isn't much faster than what we were working with in india. :) i promise, i WILL post them here when i get back.

j and i just got back from a few days in israel. i must say, i think i fell in love with jerusalem. it was everything i thought it might be and so much more than i could have imagined or really, could have fathomed. photos and reflections on our trip (and egypt and india) when i return.

for now, though, it's nice to be back in cairo. it's funny, i found myself while in israel saying things like, 'when we get back home.' cairo, in all its craziness and pollution and scary street crossings, does feel familiar. don't get me wrong- i know i'm in some great, very capable hands here and i don't pretend to have any idea how to actually do life here, but the (relative, of course) familiarity is nice.

israel.

jerusalem.

i'm kind of in love.

calls to prayer and church bells, cobblestones and carts and gummis, shoes and shwarma and saints. church hymns at the holy sepulcher. frankincense and falafels and delicious orthodox bagels in the jewish quarter. spices and head scarves and beads and passionfruit slushies. the via dolorosa, the mount of olives, dominis flevit. the dome of the rock. the fortified walls of the old city. delicious nutella pancakes in the cool cavern of the hebron hostel tea room. God speaks in the breezes rustling through the olive trees in the garten of gesthemane. He calls the nations back to Himself in this place, and those who can hear through the hype and unfathomable drama will hear, "Lo, I am with you always, even to the end of the ages."

this place is, in addition, pretty crazy. i'm kind of in hate, too. i struggle to sum up the rest of this in sentences that aren't peppered with expletives. kids, 18 years old, walk around with chips on their shoulders and huge guns slung across their backs, olive green uniforms optional. jewish settlers with their guns and their inflated sense of manifest destiny. ultra orthodox men in black, felt- hatted and ear-locked and four-tassled, bobbing as they recite from the torah at the wailing wall, not daring to ascend the temple mount. muslim women in higab, men in kippas (a fashion statement here), orthodox women in wigs, all somehow manage to live relatively peacefully alongside each other in this place that emanates history and sacredness and a tenuous peace. it's amazing.

it's equally horrifying to me to know what's going on here behind the beautiful cities, the history, the hills dotted with trees and new buildings. to know of the horrible atrocities committed here in the name of national security, of a homeland... i just have no words.

i understand why jesus, on the mount of olives, looked out over this place and wept for it.

egypt, schmeegypt.

tonight, israel schmisrael. :)

sorry i've been a lame blogger. i've actually gone back to an ol' paper and pen journal, and i'll post on our adventures when i get back.

farewell, my heart

leaving this place is so.hard.

it always is.

hair cropping!

as it turns out, de-lousing and cutting hair on the heads of about 150 children is quite the project.

8-10 hours. lots of work. and lots and LOTS of lice.

and bob-haircuts on the fly. who knew it was possible to make this stuff up?

photos to follow, of course!

Engaged!

(Originally a mass e-mail sent by ya habibi)

Dear Loved Ones,

It's yet another hot and steamy day in Bapatla, this little town on the coast of southern India where Kandyce and I, along with my parents, her mom, and another friend of ours are staying. There's a crowd of smiling children hanging around outside the door waiting for me to emerge from the relative coolness of the dining room, where open doors and a ceiling fan keep atolerable breeze blowing through. At select moments you can just catch a hint of the sea - only five kilometers or so distant - in the smell of the air.The past few days have been a blur of activity, crazy, complex, but all centered around a single moment that both of us will remember for the rest of our lives.

On the evening of July 4th, I asked Kandyce to marry me.

For most of you, I imagine this won't be a surprise. While Kandyce and I had only been dating for a short period of time, the two of us have been close friends for several years, and, when that friendship blossomed into something deeper (Quite a story in itself!) both us knew that this was the direction we wanted to be going. I've known that Kandyce was the kind of woman that I wanted to marry for many years. Those of you who know her well will understand.

Over the past six-seven months Kandyce and I have been intentionally asking the hard questions, exploring the depth of our relationship and seeking God's will and guidance, as well as the guidance of the people in our lives who we trust and respect. And again and again this plan for our future has only been confirmed. The time hasn't been easy - as many of you know, inJanuary, shortly after we started officially dating, I moved to Cairo, Egypt to work for the Middle East Studies Program - a job which will keep me in the Middle East until this December - but the challenges of a long-distance relationship have been an incredible blessing to us, a chance to be intentional about growing and deepening our relationship in preparation for taking this next step.

We were both blessed deeply when Kandyce was able to visit me in Egypt for a week at the beginning of March - a wonderful chance for me to introduce her to Cairo, a place which is so close to my heart, and to be a part of MESP, my job and my community in Cairo which is such a wonderful blessing to me. We're both looking forward to returning to Egypt when we leave India in a couple of weeks.

So, in the weeks after Kandyce's visit to Egypt I decided to start acting on the intention that I'd had since we started dating, and wrote Kandyce's parents to request their permission to ask her to marry me this summer while we were together in India. Their blessing - along with the blessing of my own parents - was something that was extremely important to me. The lazy speed of the Egyptian mail service kept me in desperate suspense for several weeks, as my first semester working at MESP came to a close and the time for our departure to India began to get closer and closer. I started to consider just e-mailing them, to give my over-wrought nerves a break. But then in mid-May Kandyce's mother got in touch with me and let me know that they had received my letter, that I had their blessing, and that they were looking forward to welcoming me into their family.

The minute I had that, I bought the ring I had picked out weeks before. As per the information I'd known from Kandyce for some time (Long before we were even dating - but again, that's another story) it was a white gold solitaire, size six - simple and yet elegant.We both arrived in India on June 25th, and had a wonderful first week at the BIRDS farm in southern Andhra Pradesh, meeting kids who both of us sponsor (And all of you should as well. Check out their website to find out how) and spending time with Kandyce's mom and friends Jess Rodgers, Kevin Wellwood, and Grace Farson. Then it was a night train to Hyderabad to visit the OM base where Kandyce has a number of friends from her job at the Dalit Freedom Network and do some art projects with kids in impoverished villages. We also made a couple of late-night trips to the airport to pick up my parents - and, with my dad, an important little white gold size-six item in the money pouch around his neck.

We arrived in Bapatla on the morning of July 4th. This place is incredibly dear to both of our hearts. This is the place, in many ways, where Kandyce fell in love with India and, seeing the passion and joy with which she poured herself out on the kids here, this place is one of the places which made me fall deeply in love with her. Our hearts are both in Bapatla, and so, as I told the people here, this was the only place in all the world where I could kneel down and ask for her hand.

Since Kandyce's good friends Jess and Kevin were leaving on the morning of the 6th, I planned to propose on the evening of the 5th. Envisioning a quiet, intimate proposal on the roof of the orphanage followed by a small celebration with the kids, I asked Babu, the director of the orphanage, and Johnson, an evangelist and someone who works here, to help me arrangingthings with the kids. But in India they don't do things small. A small celebration with the kids quickly turned into a planned feast with songs, all of the pastors from the surrounding area, and hundreds of guests. And that evening Johnson whisked Kandyce and I away to the nearby city of Guntur to buy us (Against our loud protests) a new set of clothes - a formal shirt and pants for me and a gorgeous blue-green sari for Kandyce. Kandyce and I, both of whom had been looking forward to a much more intimate moment, were grateful, but taken aback (And, of course, my surprise was blown - Johnson tried to say: "Well, we're buying clothes...in case we have a function. Suppose we have a function - what sort of sari would you like?" A wonderful man, but not the subtlest.)

And so I decided to move things up. After returning to the orphanage that night - when everyone else had gone to bed Kandyce and I were sitting on the front porch talking. I asked her if she would come up to the roof and, as we whispered to each other about our love for this place and our gratitude for all the events that had taken place since we were here last a year ago,I knelt down and, heart racing, told her how much I loved her, how much she meant to me, and asked her to marry me.

And she said yes! Quickly followed by: "As long as you promise not to make me eat eggplant!" (A reference to Gabriel Garcia Marquez's "Love in the Time of Cholera" which we both read last fall).I hadn't informed anyone of my change of plans, and so everyone at the orphanage (Along with our friends and parents) were still expecting a proposal the next evening in the lead-up to the big celebration. Kandyce and I even briefly considered me taking the ring back and going through the proposal again the next night, to keep our moment the night before a secretjust between the two of us. But we decided it would be much more fun for her to keep the ring and see how long it would take everyone to notice that there'd been a change of plans.

Now, our parents and friends are perceptive people, but Kandyce did manage to sit all through two hours of church AND breakfast the next morning before ANYBODY noticed! In fact, we had to quite forcefully point out the fact that something was just a little bit different about Kandyce's hands before anyone said anything.

And then, that night, came the celebration. A huge tent was rapidly put up on the field outside the orphanage with some two to three hundred chairs and a raised stage inside. A band (Drummer and keyboardist) was reserved, and a massive sound system set up to carry the sound of the function to every corner of the town. A huge banner was erected behind the stage proclaiming the "Joyes (yes, 'J-O-Y-E-S') Engagement of Miss Kandyce Jean Kingsley to Mr.Jonathan Craig Pinckney." And, as a function like this would be inconceivable without a feast, some one hundred pounds of rice and gallons of curry were cooked to go with it.And then at six, just as the heavily-involved process of getting Kandyce "sari-ed" finished, we walked to the stage arm in arm to get engaged Indian style.

I won't go into all the details of the ceremony. Kandyce and I spent most of it whispering commentary to each other (Until one of the pastors called us out) and smiling at the rows and rows of beautiful children sitting below the stage and enthusiastically giving us two thumbs up whenever we glanced in their direction. There were introductions in alternating Telugu and English, a wide variety of songs, an engagement message from my Father enthusiastically translated by the effervescent Johnson, more blessings from more pastors than I can remember, and finally, at the climax, Kandyce and I rose to exchange garlands of flowers - an Indian tradition. We were both rather startled at that moment, because the Lutheran priest who was standing at the time held up the microphone and asked us first: "Do you have any objection to this person, and do you love them very much?" and then, after our affirmatives, continued with: "Do you accept this person as your life partner?" To which we both also assented. The verdict's still out on whether we might have accidentally gotten married - though my dad, also apastor, assures us that, as the priest never said "man and wife" we aren't actually married, just "very, VERY engaged...the MOST engaged couple I've ever seen."

The garlanding was followed by the unveiling of a three-tier cake proudly emblazoned with: "Happy Birthday Jonathan and Kandyce!" and topped by a massive mechanical candle which, when lit, opened into a huge pink lotus flower (Which also, by the way, was playing the tune of "Happy Birthday"). Kandyce and I fed each other pieces of cake (Steering clear of the fly whichhad met an unfortunate end on the lefthand corner), and I fed both my parents and Kandyce's mom. I also, very distinctly, heard Johnson at that moment call out: "Feed your wife!" which I count as a serious piece of evidence that he pulled a fast one on us and got us married without usknowing.

When the service was over there was a huge dinner, and then, when the several hundred guests had slowly made their way out of the orphanage, Kevin, Jess and I pulled out a package that they'd picked up in Hyderabad and, with the kids from the orphanage watching for the balconies, set off a fireworks show to conclude the nights festivities.

Babu - the director, gave the kids a school holiday - "Jon and Kandyce engagement day" - the next day. We're wondering if, in the future, the date will remain fixed (July 5th) or if instead, like Labor Day, it will be moved to the Monday closest to July 4th each year.

That's all for now. Look forward to pictures and even some video of the ceremony in the next few weeks as our travel plans allow. We'll be heading to Egypt in two weeks, and making a brief trip up to Jerusalem a few days after that. We love all of you, and are so excited to continue to share our lives with you as the two of us walk together in this wonderful path that God has laid out for us. Blessings and peace be with all of you, and keep us in your thoughts and prayers as we keep all of you.
With much love,
Jon and Kandyce

samudram

today may have very well been one of my favorite days in india, ever. maybe even one of the best days of my entire life (i've been having a string of those lately.)

all of the children at nidamarru, the second orphanage run by babu and hepsy, are here this weekend for the jon and kandyce party (yesterday, which was completely ridiculous). today, babu uncle canceled school for all of the children in honor of "jon and kandyce engagement day," rented two huge lorries, piled all of the children on/ in them and we all went to the beach.

we rumbled and honked our way past mango carts and frying jilabies, through streets crowded with staring brown faces, by shop selling shoes and sarees, and children waving, standing in the streets. it was all i could do to thank God over and over again for the incredible gift of this place, these kids, this beautifully precious, perfect moment in time.

it was funny at times, too. every now and then the truck would lurch forward or to a halt, dumping the wardens off their chairs and throwing all of the girls forward or backward on top of each other, each time in hysterical laughter, all clinging to one another. we sang, we clapped, we laughed, we danced.

the beach was, in short, awesome. 300 or so kids, crashing waves, the salt and the breeze and the deep grey sky threatening the first hard rain of the season... oh, my heart! (and my gut when bindu pointed to the crabs scurrying along the waterfront and said, 'sister! craps!' i laughed so hard!) the joy these kids shared with us, with me!

after about an hour's swim and a half hour's walk on the beach, we piled back into the lorries and sped homeward, face first into the oncoming storm. mary, in her pink salwaar, danced and sang and cried with joy the entire ride home, only speaking the words, "so happy, sister!" the trip slowly grew miserable, as it began to rain harder and the drivers drove faster and faster. the girls all huddled together under dupattas for warmth, the little one nearest to me shivering so badly that she couldn't even get any words out. one little girl sought refuge under a flap of sweet norah's salwaar. we rode the second half of the trip home this way- hugging and shaking and trying to stay warm, headlights from the cars shining through wet dupattas and casting shadows.

my favorite india moments are those where my white skin doesn't matter. these girls shared an incredible intimacy with me this evening- this whole beach trip, really- moments of sheer, deep joy and moments of need and apprehension. God, thank you for how you grow my heart and shape it to look more like ours every time you bring me back to this place!

i love my life. (you can read j's account of this trip here.)

engagement party blessing:

may you be a modern day mother teresa.

i hope and pray that this becomes true! i want to be worthy of this blessing. i want to not just let these words be something spoken over me years ago at a crazy indian engagement party, but words that take on an ever deeper and more real significance as i begin this new stage of life (minus the nun part, of course.)

i'm so thankful to have someone to share in this journey!

this is what love is...

i'm continually surprised and blessed by how much this place fills my heart, by how the love in the hearts of all who live here pushes out all of my darkness and small ideas of what this business of truly, sacrifically loving each other is all about.

four years ago i came here and experienced selfless, unconditional love. i continue to be absolutely blessed, astounded, floored by that same love today.

yesterday, johnson took j and i to guntur to buy us "wedding clothes." he spent a fortune.

all i could think about was how skinny skinny these kids are, about how they don't have meat or fruit. i know the gifts johnson, babu and hepsy bought for us yesterday are incredibly generous, given out of deep sacrifice. this is aside of God's love i struggle with, because i want to earn it, to feel like i deserve it. this i do not deserve- any of it: j, this generosity, this promise of an incredible future, this solid, deep, real man of God. i pray that the significance of this gift in its entirety is one i will continue to remember and bring before God with thanksgiving.

in the meantime, may india keep dishing up heaping doses of 'get over yourself.'

bapatla

I love this place. I am continually astounded by how much and how well these kids and people here love. I wish I could put to words their incredible generosity and sacrificial giving.

I love this tiny little dusty village and the children who live here. Four years ago I came here and I was changed. I am so, so thankful for how this place messed me up.

I should write a real post, but for now there is much to celebrate. Bust out your sarees, bapalta. Its time to party!

i win!

team pinckney 2010!

arrivals gate

sometimes i feel as though i'm living half-awake.

today, though, that feeling of sleep-walking through my day makes sense. j and i headed out from OM around 1.30 this morning to the airport to pick up beth amma and spent a good 4 hours there, between the drive and the wait. standing at the arrivals gate waiting; sitting with j, two white faces in a sea of brown, sharing samosas; watching people watch us, watching the clock tick and the flights arrive; it all felt so right... so surreal, and so deeply right. my j, in this place. us, together. sweet, competent, caring, capable, strong, passionate. love embodied. the one for me. the man i can't wait to spend my life with.

and little beth, teary eyed and smiling as she pulled her luggage toward us. i'm so thankful for the chance to share all of this with beth amma and coty naana!

thank you, Father, for this incredible gift!

muthyalapadu

I'm alive. I swear.
Just spent a week with some precious kids in very rural India: the people who truly feel the effects of globalisation and climate change.
As usual, our time at BIRDS was wonderful, fun and sobering. Love the kids, though it just about killed me when vijaya, my sponsored child, burst into tears as we were leaving the farm.
All is well. Currently on a train to Hyderabad using a crackberry. Will write more when on a real computer... Though it has been refreshing to not be tied to it as usual. :)

globalization and those who suffer

paul uncle wanted to announce to the kids last night that j and i are getting married. it feels a little bit as though my life is moving so fast in a direction i never anticipated that i can barely hold on for the ride!

coming to birds kind of messes me up. of course, it's a good kind of messed up, a 'forever ruined for the ordinary' messed. here i'm surrounded by the people who are directly affected by globalization. these are the ones who suffer from global climate change, from market subsidies, from late or entirely absent monsoon rains. these are the ones who can't compete in the organic food market because they can't afford to adjust their prices or grow produce without using pesticides.

i need this wake-up reminder that nothing is ever what it seems, and that my choices as a consumer on the other side of the world have very real consequences. sometimes i wonder how different things would be if we directly felt the consequences of our own actions, and if it all wasn't someone else's burden to bear.

i'm (98%) packed, showered and...

we're off!

to do:

laundry.

eat breakfast!

uh, pack. :)

my friends bake(ry)d me a cake last night, and then we stood around in the kitchen and prayed for our travels and our trip. i love my community here, and it always makes me a little sad to leave them behind for the summer. i love you, dear ones!

How to Avoid Packing, edition #2

playing in denver is a GREAT way to procrastinate! :)

grace and mata ji are here (and miss beffs is on her way to china as i type this- no more crazy misadventures to keep her from packing!) we're off to the farmer's market for some photos (posted here).

high fives for lots of excuses to Not Pack!

addition #4

... and while i (we!) will be bringing two of these, i promise not to make you wear one in the indian heat, miss beffs. :)

we're asked to dance by/ for the kids ALL the time, so this year mata ji and i figure we should be prepared. so everyone, get ready. there will be klompen dancing brought to the ends of the earth.

(btw, i'm so not kidding.)

and also, i'm glad i'm not the only one procrastinating with all that i am! :)

addition #3

ok, here's my plan- anything i add to the list after friday at noon i'll bring two of for sharing (fret not, miss beffs! :))

additions:
- small gifts for the kids we'll befriend (bangles, hair ribbons, etc... we'll come home).
- shoulder bag (i have a GREAT one now!)
- small med kit (bandaids, neosporin, tums, tylenol, etc). all of these things CAN be obtained in india, but bringing them along may save us from having to mime potentially difficult/ awkward things to a chemist/ druggist/ pharmacist.

addition #2

earplugs.

we will be taking 4 trains, spending about 24 hours of our time in india barreling down railroad tracks in bogeys full of chaicoffee samosa cooldrink vegetablecutlet waterbottlewallas, hawking their wares every time our train makes a stop at a station regardless of what ungodly hour of day or night it may be... as much as i like chai and samosas (chaiiiichaiiiichaiiiiyyyaaa!), i also anticipate wanting to sleep. :)

this little man above is named, of course, john. i say of course, because we met him last summer amidst a sea of jo(h)ns- higgins, pinckney, crawford- so what else could this little man be named? :)

addition to my packing list:

battery powered alarm clock.

i hate packing.

massive procrastination has begun. and i'm not even packing! i'm what my friend jennifer and i like to call "gathering", aka, making piles of everything i need/ don't need to eventually fit into a backpack.

my room is in disarray, i've got three loads of laundry in various states of done-ness, approximately a million things scattered across my bed/ floor/ trunk in different piles: maybe i'll need this, i'll definitely need this, good will this, forgot i had this does it belong to someone else. i make lists: to do to buy to borrow to pack. i make phone calls to people i love, write last minute letters and notes, talk to my mom approximately 15 times a day to get things in order. i haven't procrastinated this badly since, well, the last time i went to india, and before that (and those other india trips) it was college.

and, of course, i will (and DO!) anything to avoid packing, an idea which is really quite stupid in and of itself. i mean, i get lots of Other Stuff done: i drink countless cups of tea, bake various delicious things for myself, my roommates, my neighbors, i read, i cook, i blog, i organize my drawers in the bathroom and my shelves in the cupboards (how else can i find my tea?!), i work on my tan, i hyperlink everything, i catch up on the news... today i even weeded the garden (and later defended it against a hail storm.) and i find ways to justify spending my time on all of these things.

this weekend's justifications include:

- i don't leave for what, 10 days yet? i'll have plenty of time!... knowing, of course, deep in my heart that that's not true, that i'll wait until the last minute like always, i'll be packing the morning of my trip.

- eric and his brother scott are in town, and i only see eric when i fly through chicago. MUST make time for them, as they are dear to my heart.

- it's my last chance to work on my tan! (... )

- clearly, i need to spend lots of time emailing lots of people, as we have recently gained three more travelers- coty naana, jRo and kevin- for various parts of our trip (this one might actually be the only legitimate one on the list).

- the garden is (was!) full of weeds, and how fun would it be for little shmem to come home to a (mostly) weed-free garden?

- my book is SO good! and j wants to read it when i'm done, so i should make some progress.

- j and i are going to israel. i have never been to israel. i should make phone calls to find out what to pack. it's hard to pack if you don't know what to pack.

- i am le tired.

right. so as you can all see, i've got a list of reasons not to pack that's just about as long as my list of things to pack.

speaking of, as it's become a sort of tradition to list off the things i'm packing for the blogging world to read, here it is, version 3.0:

to get:

snacks! (fruitleatherfruitsnacksoatmealgorp)

vitamins.

face wipes

purel

safety pins (that's a tricky word, that safety.)

lysol?

to do:

compile a phone number/ address list... should any reason to write or call home arise. :)

call the bank! call verizon!

figure out what to pack for israel (maybe also a legitimate reason from above.)

to borrow:

sleep sheets

to pack:

j's bag o' goodies (slaugherhouse five, another pearlsnap shirt, etc, etc, etc)

black pajama pants

diffin shirt (yes, i WILL wear a "free the dalit" shirt in india!)

salwaars

toiletries

1 pair shorts

1 tank top

2-3 shirts

1 long skirt?

rain coat

chaco flip flops (love.them.)

chacos

cipro! (thanks miss whitty!)

books!

scarves

linen pants (more pants? how many pairs of pants? i have long pants i wear long pants!)

headlamp

swimsuit

mIpod

sewing kit

CAMERA!

watch

sunglasses

pack towel

lappy?

date night/ hefla ('everybody meet kandyce!') things. (little did i know, it is ridiculously difficult to dress for these such occasions.)

i'm not sure why i hate packing so much, but i do. i loathe it. maybe it's because nothing ever fits the way i want it to (why do i ALWAYS end up with so much stuff?), or because i'll remember something and have to unpack everything to put said thing at the bottom, or maybe it's just because i know that i still have a week to have to be productive at the Rest of my Life, so packing seems a little premature and i don't want to get too excited just yet.

at any rate, i should at least finish my tea, pack up my laptop from the kitchen table and pretend to go and do something useful... we'll see how it turns out.

t-minus 11 days

real, post-of-content here. i am so ready to turn in envelope stuffing for navigating my way, jet-lagged and exhausted, through various airports in different parts of the world en route to hyderabad! although, with what the last few weeks leading up to this trip have had in store, i have to admit i'm curious to see what else might happen. :) (we added two travelers and one extended his stay to travel to bapatla with us!)

this weekend i have opted to stay home from a wedding in steamboat springs with my dear mellie furtado because i just have an overwhelming amount of Stuff to Get Done. thus, project "determine which crap i have, which was lost and what i can possibly borrow" will commence...

and, project "run every errand you can think of now because you'll come up with more later." speaking of, thank you lauren, i FINALLY got around to bringing in my camera to have it cleaned. it desperately needed it.

so, as the title suggests: we have 11 days before departing for hyderabad from denver, via london... i cannot wait to see those kids. after everyone else flies home from india, i'll go with j to cairo for a few days, and then israel for a few more. i can't say it enough: i LOVE the adventure my life has become! :)

if home is where the heart is...

... i can't decide where home is. i used to think my home, if it is truly where my heart is, is in india. now, i think it's lost somewhere between india and egypt and wherever j is. i'm back in the states, at the very least, and here i'll stay until, insha'allah, june. from there, i/ we'll head once again to india and i'll "stop by egypt on my way home."

i am still slightly jetlagged, a fact which hits me rather forcefully (forcibly? i'm tired.) at about 8pm. it will probably also be reflected here in my lack of eloquence (not that i'm usually eloquent, but i like to think that every once in a while i can write well. :))

it is an ever increasing struggle for me to be present in my day to day life here. i was talking with my bff from high school yesterday and he said something that i want to remember every time i get lost my daydreams of being elsewhere. i was talking to him about how i'm envious of j's life at MESP and m said, "k, there are a lot of people who would love to have your life." i want to be mindful of the fact that i'm working (read: getting paid!) for a cause i believe in, and that my job, the organization i work for actually pulls kids out of the gutters. on top of that, i get to travel to india, to the country that stole my heart and taught me how to live outside myself. i get to continue to build relationships with people i have met and grown to love there, and i get to do that face to face. i get to travel to little villages in middle india and fall in love with precious little boys in a village who prostrate themselves on the floor of a church for prayer. i was able to go to a graduation ceremony for 47 children who made history standing on that stage in their caps and gowns. this is an incredible gift, and just because i'm not gallivanting across the middle east or india every day of my life does not give me license to forget that.

i am going to try my best to remember this in the long months ahead between this trip and my next, and seek to give meaning to what i do here in the office through that knowledge. i could certainly use reminders when whiny kandyce rises to the surface- please consider this permission to do so.

having said all of that stuff about wanting to remember, i was struck today by how little i actually pray. what if i used my time here in the states to pray? what if i prayed for my kids in pipe village like i actually believed it would make a difference? what if i asked God to free them from bonded labor like i believed He could, and would? these little guys in the photograph posted above have been on my heart these past few days since my return. i want my faith to match theirs.

this will be my last post here for a while. until next time, thanks for reading, commenting and reflecting on my adventure(s) with me.

p.s.

and, mumkin, i should change the title of this blog to reflect travels in more of the world than just india? :)

sinai: desert and mountain and sea

as usual, please forgive my run-on sentances and bad grammar. while traveling, editing my writing is low on my list of priorities. :)

the sunrise from mount sinai was, in short, incredible. we spent about 5 hours trekking up a camel path in the dark, with headlamps and book lights and cell phones to keep us from tripping over our own feet and the rocks in the path. as we were hiking, every once in a while i'd turn off my headlamp and look up, look around at the incredible star-strewn sky nestled between HUGE sloping, rocky mountains and breathe a word of thanks.

we climbed and we climbed and we continually refused weathered looking bedouin men leading camels upward and we climbed and we climbed. tiny little mud huts dotted the hillside, offering a seat and small source of heat and light and lots of overpriced tea and western candybars. as we sat under the black, black sky and rested and waited for everyone to catch up, people from all over the world filtered in and out, speaking italian and korean and french and german, all pressing on toward the summit.

the path was incredibly rocky, and as we neared the top we began to climb a set if stairs which, had i seen them in the daylight, i would have been very wary of. (alissa, one of jon's MESP alum friends, says the monks who hung out in the nearby monestary had to build them as penance. what sins could warrent such punishment??) it was really quite cold. some of our egyptian friends who came along had never seen snow before, and there were a few patches on the western side of the mountain which they used for snowball fights and snowmen. :)

we made it to the top just as the sky began to lighten and found our seats on the eastern face. from the mountain, the desolate landscape stretched out as far as we could see- and all i could see was desert. literally, piles of rocks and sand and patches of snow. (why in the world would anyone want to take over the sinai? and how in the world could anyone wander in this desert for 40 years?) as the sun rose slowly in the sky it fell on the jagged profiles of the mountains and filled the valleys with orange light, and pilgrims at the top blew shofars and sang hymns and welcomed the morning. and what a morning it was!

after climbing the mountain, we drove through more desert and past more mountains to dahab, a little touristy town on the shores of the red sea. dahab is about 10 miles (?) from saudi arabia, and when the sun sets it reflects red off the cliffs. we ate breakfast/ lunch/ dinner in these little restaurants along the "boardwalk" with egyptian tents for walls and sat on big cushions on the floor, fending off cats and listening to the gentle waves lap against the shore. at night, the restaurants light firebowls and lamps and candles and the whole atmosphere is really cozy and lends itself well to more "i love egypt" moments.

we spent all day friday lounging around on the shores of the red sea, making small conversation with bedouin children and women in nikab (again, forgive my spelling) trying to sell bracelets and necklaces to scantily clad white tourists. (i'm not sure why speedos transcend culture, but i wish they didn't.)

saturday morning was our morning for snorkling- the weather was beautiful and the water cold. i stayed in just long enough to find nemo, but completely enjoyed my morning lazing around on the dock, talking with students and watching two little bedouin sisters take turns launching themselves off the dock into the water. the culture in dahab is funny- it's very tourist oriented, but very egyptian at the same time. white people snorkling and scuba diving in the blue hole in tiny two pieces next to muslim girls in long sleeve shirts and hijabs next to men in galabeyas and kaffeiyas (and, to my amusement, sometimes great big ol' aviator sunglasses) riding camels and horses down dusty roads between the sea and the mountains, jeeps packed full of people zig-zagging along the beach... lots of time for me to sit in my cognitive dissonance and think.

in sum, life is good. :) today we head to the pyramids and to find something for huckleberry and the woman at the post office, and j and i do our best to enjoy each other's company as much as we can to store up for the months ahead. while this week has certainly been a gift (and what a gift it is!) i'm sad to see it over.

probably won't have time to update again until i'm back in the states. stay tuned for photos (and edited grammar!) as always, thanks for reading.

a quiet morning at the villa (with an adventure on the horizon)

i posted a note on the first by dear jon higgins- be sure to read it!

i like doing life here. :)

right now, outside the window, the eesh men selling bread, the men with their donkey carts and their roasted sweet potatoes, the horse carts with green beans are wandering through the streets, all yelling out what it is that they're selling. the muezzin (or, as the case may be, the recording of a muezzin) call out the shahada at different intervals, each a few seconds or minutes off from one another, calling the faithful to join with the faithful across the world in bowing toward mecca, offering their prayers toward heaven...

there's an ahwa on every block, sometimes more than one. elderly egyptian men sit and sip tea from glasses, puff on their shishas and watch traffic and people walk by on the streets, kids play soccer in sandals and women hang their washing outside the windows of their flats to dry in the sun and the dusty air. men in galabeyas and kaffeiyas wander fairly aimlessly through the streets, families walk from the bread distribution center across from j's flat with arms full of eesh and ninjas sneak along the streets in the shadows...

life is more quiet here than in india. fewer horns, less traffic (yeah, that's right- i said it. there's less traffic here than in india- it's crazy though, because crossing the street here is MUCH scarier than india).

we had shwarma at niema's last night, with a can of fayrouz. everyone, be jealous. :) we've covered all the food bases so far save for falafel, or ta'miyya here in egypt- and i'm excited to attempt some of these things in our kitchen when i get back! (friends, get ready.)

this evening at 6pm we all hop on a bus and drive into the sinai. we'll arrive sometime in the wee hours of the morning, climb the mountain and wait for the sun. then, we'll go snorkling in the red sea and hang out on a beach. i love my life. :) thanks for reading!

ahlan min masr!

i'm here, in egypt, at long last. :) the past few days of my life have been as follows:

a wrap up to my india trip:
saturday morning: visit to pipe village/ NCL banda. jenni chelli came along, which was nice. i love my job, and i love being able to share my job with people i care about. it's also deeply, profoundly meaningful to be able to visit the same families in the same slums year after year, trip after trip. i wish i could put it to words, the feeling i get when i walk into a village and see familiar faces and can put names to them. (i'm sorry i can't post photos, but i will when i get home.) one little girl named mamta was so excited that i remembered her name that she walked around the village (pipe village) holding my hand and chatting away in a mix of telugu/ english for our whole visit. i am in love.

saturday afternoon/ evening: throw up. all the way to the base. in traffic from the sonia gandhi rally. the graduation ceremony was WONDERFUL. doug (el presidente) had asked us all to sit together as a staff, but as it turned out there were no seats to do that. which, much to my heart's content, meant i got to sit in the back with all the kids. :) i sat with rebecca, mamta, sangeeta and sangeeta's little sister deepa, all kids from the pipe village. we talked in telugu, a little in hindi, and in english, and true to indian style only paid attention when there was a song or dance on stage (shh, don't tell the bossman i just said that. it was all the kids, i swear! :)) when it came time for the students who were graduating to walk across the stage in their blue caps and gowns, i just sat with little 5 year old deepa on my lap with tears in my eyes, deep love and gratitude for sharing in this moment in my heart as i hugged this precious little one and told her i'd try to come back for her graduation from high school in 10 years. what an amazing experience to be a part of! ah!

and to watch kancha illaiah wipe tears from his eyes as he addresses the crowd, and bangaraju as he tells us he used to teach these kids, now graduating from high school the alphabet under a tree? priceless. i wouldn't trade those moments for the world.

saturday night: airport. all night. fly 3 hours to dubai.

on traveling:
sunday morning: spend 8-9 hours sleeping in the airport. find a starbucks and get a caramel macciato. pay "37" for that and a blueberry muffin- whatever "37" means. (edit a week later: it means 10$ USD. wish i had known that beforehand!)

sunday afternoon: 4 hour flight from dubai to cairo. arrive in cairo overwhelmed and unsure of the day or time. figure out how to get past "passport control" and find my luggage and my habibi. (p.s. it's cold here.)

on being here in egypt:
monday: spend a quiet day here, adjusting again to a time difference, a different culture and language and way of doing life. ate some tasty food, had my first glass of sahlab (sweet nectar from heaven!), lots of tea, and hummus (i got the hummus!) and eesh. (aaaiiiieeeesssshhhh!)

tuesday: play tourist! we visited 4 (count them: four) mosques yesterday. they are, and please forgive my poor spelling: mohammad ali mosque and the citadel, al rafa'i, sultan hassan and ibn tulun. i had an 'i love egypt' moment yesterday while climbing the minaret of ibun tulun right as mid-morning call to prayer echoed throughout the entire city. it was one of those existential moments where i step back, look at my life and my heart is filled with joy and disbelief that this really is mine, this gift is mine to enjoy and that i really am, wonder of wonders, here in cairo, climbing the minaret of a mosque from the 7th century. i have approximately 95 photos of the skyline from up in there, and some of them include THE PYRAMIDS! AH!!! it was nice to play tourist on a quiet tuesday morning, as it meant we only shared ibn tulun with an art class and maybe three or four other white people. (for the record, jRo, i think sultan hassan was my favorite.)

this morning: i'm here at the MESP villa. it's a little funny to walk in and have 30+ students know my name, shake my hand with a knowing smile and say things like, "we're so glad to finally meet you" or "we've heard so much about you." :) it's awesome to know that everyone here is excited about this and about me and j, but as with christmas it's also a little intimidating to feel like everyone here has heard so much about me- i feel like i've got a lot to live up to! :)

on food: we had koshari for lunch. i admit, i was skeptical. it was tasty though! then ful with eesh for dinner with jon's expat friends (who also have heard a lot about me- i feel like i should start baking people cookies for having to sit through so many stories! :)) then, of course, as is the national pasttime here, we had shisha. or rather, everyone else had shisha and i sat with my sahlab and watched them smoke, as my sinuses are having a bit of a tough time adjusting to the air quality here. (i'm sure we'll have other chances to smoke shisha anyway. i'm not in a hurry!) i am stoked for falafels (afelafelafels).

on being white: it's a little less painfully obvious here compared to india, but traipsing around yesterday was a bit tough for me. why God has given me a heart for places where i will never, EVER fit in i'm not sure. i'm learning to reconcile myself to that, to standing out like a big ol' huge freakin' sore thumb, but i think this will be a lifelong struggle for me: to want so badly to belong and to never really be able to do it. i'm already a little sick of being welcomed to egypt- almost as much as i am sick of being yelled at in passing in india, "HIHOWAREYOUFINE" and "WELCOMETOINDIAYOUAREFROMAMREEKAYES?"

having said that, it was fun to visit all of these places i've seen in grama's photos. yesterday j and i posed for a photo in mohammad ali similar to this one of grama kingsley. i definitely had fun walking through streets where grama has been, imagining her with her big hair and fabulous sense of 1970s style in this country, so new to me and so dear to her. :) juice naana, thanks again for tracking down her photos and sending them my way!

on the pyramids: uh, freaking sweet. we haven't actually been yet, but seeing them on the horizon? seriously. is this my life? really? is this REALLY my life?

on being in a land where j's heart is so alive: it's awesome. it's wonderfully awesome to be here, and i just don't even have words for what it does to see him wear his heart on his sleeve with confidence and love and a depth of knowledge i can only hope to aspire to. it does my heart well, too, to be with someone who is so at home in another part of the world. i'm so, so thankful for the gift of this week here with him, and this gift as a whole- this relationship that is so deeply good, and brings my heart so much unbridled joy.

in the words of dear shmem, 'praise the Jesus.' :)

all for now. tomorrow we leave for sinai- not sure when i'll be able to update again, but the length of this one will probably suffice until then- whenever that is!

in the words of jon higgins

this was written by a dear friend who is currently in india, and will be there for 3 months between finishing his undergrad degree and starting med school. this is his third trip with OM/ DFN, and there are few people that i have met with a bigger heart for the dalits than jon. he recently wrote this, and i wanted to share it here as it is a much more poetic account of graduation than i was able to offer a few days ago.

'under the tree.' -3.1.09

"Barely twice in a long time have I seen grown men cry. One was a lament. The other was a celebration.

The first was two years back, right before I first came to India. An international who had spent a short term trip here relayed vivid stories of how the people had captured his thoughts and heart. His crying, however, was a lament. A lament that he was tied down in America. That the sacrifice was too great, and his heart not willing enough, to give it all up for the people who broke his heart—destitute, downtrodden, oppressed, the laughingstock of their nation and communities, if anyone bothered to even laugh at them at all. Yet he couldn’t give it all up. I resolved that day to never have to shed the same tears.

His tears were tears of sadness. My tears were for my nation, whose members are like him more than we care to admit. Who are infected with the sickness of entitlement, the insidiousness of comfortability, and the gall to call insincere concern, sincere. Every day, I wish I could honestly tell myself I am not the foremost example.

The second was tonight. A local social worker here (B will be his name) is a dear friend of mine; we have spent many nights on medical camps to the local areas and communities he works in. Never have I met a more bubbly and sincere personality, a man who is so obviously committed to reflecting a great love to the five or six (or more?) communities in which he has been working for years.

I asked him, “Are you excited for tonight?”

“Ah, yes, of course!”

“You know some of the students?”

“Oh, ya ya..K..S..I used to teach under the tree only.” He gestured toward the nearest, which happened to be a mango tree. He meant that he used to home-school them in their slum area, where they lived quite literally in broken industrial-size cement piping, and had spent many a day with them before they began coming to our school.

“And tonight they are graduating, ya?”

“Yes, under the tree I used to teach, and now … graduating.”

Three hours later, during the first ever graduation ceremony celebrating the 43 students from 3 of our 80 schools here in India, I stood next to B. These children, who would otherwise be following the traditional occupation of their parents (which for Dalits is always the menial job), were instead graduating 10th class. B was standing off to the side, and I was taking a break from shooting pictures. His eyes were red, and he put his arm around me casually in characteristically Indian style. I mumbled something to him, and he replied simply but honestly:

“I am so happy…”

Nothing profound or abstract. Just genuinely happy. His tears came out of celebration, out of dedication seen coming to fruition, out of years and years of frustration and pain and pushing through a chronically pained shoulder, out of the heartbreak of working with children whose parents fall into the 880 million in India living on less than 50 cents per day. B’s tears were not for himself, but for the children.

His tears were tears of joy. My tears are for his nation, whose members are so in need but who have men like B to give them a hope and a future. Who have the nerve to make a commitment, and whose hearts are sacrificial enough to see it through. Who have honored me with the invitation to again join in their work.

Barely twice in a long time have I seen grown men cry. One was a lament. The other was a celebration. I have cried both before, and hope and pray that those to come may be only of the latter kind.

coffee day walla!

yesterday we went to uddamarri school, about 45 minutes from the base. immediately i was struck by how well loved that school is. the children are wonderful, speak english flawlessly and are so confident. if i could come spend every day of my trip here at uddamarri, i would do it.

this morning i was able to meet with some more of our india staff and also see dear marcus and annamma- always a joy, although they chastised me for not coming by their offices earlier so they could arrange for me to come home for dinner with them. :) this afternoon, jennifer and i wandered through general bazaar (and picked out something for beth amma! :)) and now we're enjoying chocolate donuts and chocolate cake at a little westernized coffee shop. (i'm amazed at how westernized india is becoming- moreso every time i visit!)

i'll stay with jen tonight at paul uncle's apartment and then, tomorrow is a visit to pipe village and NCL banda, and then graduation. it's so good to be here, to see the faces behind the names, see familiar faces and spend time with the people that i love here. i can't believe the trip is almost over! tomorrow night around midnight i'll head to the airport and hop on an emirates flight to cairo. i can't wait for that, either (obviously!). i'm not quite sure what to expect, as india is my only point of reference for non-western countries, but i can't imagine anyone better to jump headfirst into egypt/ egyptian culture/ life in general with. :)

it's strange to be here for just a short time, but certainly makes me excited for what's to come this summer. pinckney family, get ready. it's going to be wonderfully awesome!