Introducing...Thailand

Mosquito bites.  Walking barefoot.  Eating mango sticky rice.  Trying a new exotic fruit.  Drinking coconut water from the coconut.  Sweat.  Great friends.

...Thailand.  It doesn't get much better than this!

  I'm here with the Rawlings family, enjoying my two weeks of warm weather, swimming and sightseeing.  It's truly a vacation from the cold weather of northern India and all the hard work I exerted during that time.

  But you know what's so funny?  Although I'm really enjoying my time, I am intensely drawn to the remote villages with their small huts, dirt floors, dirty children and rummaging dogs.  This last Sabbath, as we were leaving the academy (the only Adventist academy with a high school in all of Thailand), Steve took us on a little tour of the village nearby the school.  As we bumped along the rough road, my eyes were glued to the car window.  Everything was so familiar that it felt like I was home... in this filthy wisp of a village.  And yet, I wanted to jump out of the car and throw myself wholeheartedly into living these villagers' life.  I never realized how strongly this lifestyle tugged on my heart.

  Sure the living conditions aren't the best.  Most people in these 3rd world countries don't have clean water.  They don't have sanitary ways of washing dishes or bathing.  They sleep on the ground.  They walk barefoot and get parasites.  They contract diseases that usually don't cause a problem in the U.S., and yet they'll die from them.  What on earth would be so appealing about this life to a young girl from the States?

  It's so simple.  It's so un-extravagant.  It's so unpretending.  And it pulls on my heartstrings.  If I lived in conditions like this, I would do all in my power to stay clean, safe, sanitary and sane.  But, when you love something, you're willing to sacrifice comfort and security.  I realize... I love these people.  Not the Thai specifically (although, they now have a special place in my heart), but every "underprivileged" group of people.  Why do I put underprivileged in quotes?  Because, really...are they underprivileged?  Some may think they are, but they possess some of the greatest qualities in life... contentment, hospitality, thankfulness, selflessness, happiness.  Who's to say they are underprivileged?

   Driving through that "underprivileged" village, I was reminded of my time in India just a week back. My heart got heavy as all the memories of my time there with the girls came flooding back.  I miss them.  I really do.  I've come to the conclusion that I love - and I mean love - working with young people, be they small orphans or blossoming young ladies.  Either way, they absolutely steal my heart away.

  Steve interrupted my thoughts when he mentioned that Pastor Phamor had 12 young ladies (I think it was 12) who he [Pastor Phamor] was sponsoring to attend the Adventist academy.  They are Karen girls from Burma, all high school age.  Pastor Phamor has worked hard to train these girls to be proper Adventists.  The problem is, the academy has a strong Buddhist influence because of all the young people attending there who aren't converted.  Phamor is nervous to have these young ladies swayed from their beliefs, so he keeps them in a small "house" off of the campus (it's a boarding academy).  Problem is, he hasn't found a "housemother" to care for the girls (what he's doing now, I'm not sure).  Steve has discussed this predicament with Pastor Phamor and has been on the lookout for a suitable lady.  He brought the issue up to me to see if I was interested.  And I am super interested... except that I have committed myself to finishing college.  If I was done with college, I would jump on the opportunity.  But I feel led by God to finish what I've started.  Plus, being trained in dental work will help me be of better service.

  But, oh! how I want to be done with college!  I want to get on with my life, be of better help to mankind, throw myself into service.  But I'm yanked back to reality every fall when I sign up for another year of school.  Bother.

  But, then I remind myself, I can still find my mission field while in college.  They could be a neighbor, a VBS kid, a single mother, a group of young people, a classmate.  Why wait to be a missionary till I'm done with school?  Why can't I start now?

  And I am.  This trip has helped me refocus on my mission.  It's helping my eye be single to what God has planned for me.  And I'm ready to go wherever and whenever He calls me.

Falling in Love With India

Unusual birds that I haven’t ever heard before are warbling their sweet morning melodies.  A man is making some sort of clanking noise.  A woman is arguing with one of the sale’s people at the town store.  An unusually white dog is running around making friends with everyone.  A huge truck rolls by, blaring its horn to announce its arrival.  The sun’s warm rays are slowly melting the frigid morning air, making the temperature bearable and lightening the cold landscape.  Some Indian music is playing its haunting tune in someone’s home.

Welcome to Mungpoo, India. 

   Tucked in the Himalaya Mountains of northern India, up a narrow winding road, you’ll find the town of Mungpoo.  It reminds me of a village you’d find in the Swiss Alps.  Large, towering trees provide more shade then anyone desires.  Poinsettias dot the landscape.  Majestic mountains surround this tiny village, nestling the town in their shadow.  It’s a serene scene, one that demands my awe and respect.

  The only thing that keeps me from running barefoot and shouting down the dirt path to the school is the bone chilling cold.  It’s really not that cold (only about 50°F)… it’s just that you can’t escape it.  It’s like camping without a fire. Plus, it’s humid here.  That means we’re fighting a wet cold, which makes everything feel ten times colder.  Gloves, a scarf and wool socks are going to be my best friends.

  Yet, through all this cold, I feel a strange warmth emanating from the smiling faces of the students here at the school and suddenly, I don’t notice the cold anymore.  The girls stare at me.  When I look at them and smile, they turn away and giggle among themselves.  They’re probably about my age.  Most of them can’t speak English, but the ones who do try to talk to me.  It’s hard to understand their broken English covered by their strong Nepali accent.  But they do communicate.

  I’m not as tired as I thought I’d be.  I was probably asleep within the first minute I was in bed.  Cuddled up to my Nalgene bottle, I slept like a log. When I awoke, I came to the realization that there’s nothing comfortable about my bed.  It’s a mattress, maybe 2 inches thick, on top of a wooden board.  But it sure felt like a cloud when I hit it the night before.  I’ve been told there’s nothing comfortable about India.

  And I think they’re right.  Taking a bath in less than 40° weather isn’t the most pleasant.  And when you're told to end your semi-hot bath with cold water... brrr.  But hey!  At least you feel on top of the world when you step out of the bathroom/shower room.  I find it easier to end with the cold if I let out a series of hoots and hollers when I pour the freezing water on my head.  Makes the girls talking outside the door giggle and talk wildly.  

  Also worth mentioning is riding in a small car, with six other people, trying to share a seat with four of them, sitting on the edge, being jolted around for 3 or so hours.  Yet, I threw the window open and sucked in the air.  Sure it smelt of burning trash, cow dung and car exhaust.  To me, it smelt like Guatemala and Bolivia.  I reveled in it!  Who cares if I'm cramped and squished?

  I've realized, that my attitude changes everything.  I could look at all these things, the bathroom, the traveling, the cold, the bed, and every other inconvenience, and be miserable.  Yet, as I try to find beauty in my surrounding, something in me changes.  I just make tea when I'm cold.  I holler when I take a bath and end with cold water.  I just cuddle close to my hot Nalgene when my bed seems uncomfortable.  I marvel at the skill my driver has in maneuvering the roads.  And I'm not cold anymore.  I'm not tired and cramped driving.  I'm not sleeplessly tossing and turning.  I'm not miserably forcing my way through another bath.  

  And I realize... I'm learning gratitude and contentment.  What an amazing quality to gain!  Rather than gripe and groan, I can learn to enjoy being here!  I can learn to love the people!  What freedom!