Filth-Man's 2006 in Review

Filth-Man's 2006 in Review

I realize the prententiousness of assuming people care, so I don't. This post was just something to do. It's amazing how much long the few days of "down time" can get.


Notes:

My travel schedule for South Africa is at
http://filth-man.blogspot.com/2006/12/travel-plans-following-is-my-itinerary.html. I also made it a "link" for quick acess.


After researching Universalism a bit, I added a comment about it on my hell post (9th one down): https://www2.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=32606743&postID=3199615627672636954

Jan:
I began my final term of studies at the U of A. The physical torture of training camp (mantra during the stair runs: "never again! never again!") contrasted nicely with the mental torture of the brain-sucking cesspool that was my classes. While my classmates learned such complex theorems as "Africa is a continent" I experienced the true meaning of boredom.

rsf.gsfc.nasa.gov (altered by Filth-man)

Feb:

I placed 3rd at the Canada West wrestling championships. Also, I began my APT (Advanced Practical Term, the final practicum before becoming a teacher). Life was good.

March:

I placed 5th at the CIS wrestling championships, as did our team. It was fun, though, unlike my APT. I would rather not put my experiences online for all the world- including potential employers- to see, but would be glad to complain in person to anyone who cares. I was depressed until I decided to translate my sadness into anger. It actually kinda worked.

April:

SWEET MOSES! My APT ended, and I became a teacher, on paper at least. Many thanks to the people at my school that helped me through a pretty difficult times. You guys may never read this, but you rock! I wrestled in the Canadian Sr. Championships and placed 3rd in Greco-Roman.

May:

I began work for an Irrigation company, which is is a fancy of way of saying "wielded a muddy shovel". TheEdmonton Oilers, our city's NHL team, tore up the opposition for 3 straight rounds to reach the Stanley Cup Finals. Whyte Ave was alive with celebration, riots and over-eager police trying to restore order.

aunderwood.com/galley

June:

One heart-breaking game. Two friggin' goals off lucky bounces. The Oilers lost the Stanley Cup in 7 games to Carolina (3-1), and the entire city went into mourning. (http://www.nhl.com/cupcrazy/2006/serieso/game7_recap.html) Losing sucks. Sucks suck sucks.

ctv.ca

July:

Barbarian Camp! Led by myself and the fearless Caleb, we waged battles, captured women, and destroyed a lifetime worth of manners and inhibition. And, uh, taught kids about God. Lucid Elusion's barbaric picture gallery can be found at http://www.flickr.com/photos/hibbert/sets/72157594402208864/. I also started dating the wonderful Kathryn.

Aug:

I got the greatest hair cut of all time.

Sept:

Back to school- NOT! I kept Irrigating. I also set a new time record in the "in a relationship" department. Thanks Kathryn.

Oct: See September. I competed in my job's annual Losey Cup, a Rock-Paper-Scissors championship . I got rocked (and papered, and scissored).

http://www.dorkboycomics.com/

Nov: Hmmm, let's see. What did I do in November... not much, really.. oh, right, I went to India. (See most of blog.)

Dec: I spent entirely too much time on the computer, including, but not limited to, this blog. I went to Winnipeg and am going to Winter Camp Tomorrow. Then Africa.

Happy New Year Everyone!!!

Travel Plans

The following is my itinerary for South Africa. All the usual disclaimers apply: my plans can and will change, some dates are approximate, my mother did not endorse the blog name, etc etc. Hope to see some of you at Winter Camp before I leave.

Note: If you would like to have "Filth-Man" emailed to you, so you don't have to do the arduous work of checking the web page, I now have a "subscribe" function. Just enter your email adress and follow the instructions. You will still have visit the blog if you want to leave a comment- please do. I like the feeling that someone is actually reading this stuff.

January:
I am leaving Edmonton, Canada on Jan 3 and arriving in South Africa on Jan 5.

I will spend 1 week(ish) in Cape Town, possibly at the YMCA. I plan to get a room so I can orient myself to the 9 hour time difference, sleep a lot and get to know Cape Town a little. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Town) I also plan to climb table mountain, and catch a fish bigger than I am.

Afterwards, I will spend January 12- 18 (ish) with some missionaries I worked for last time. I want to help them out with whatever they are currently doing.

Jan 21: Begin to volunteer at the Cape Flats YMCA. http://www.saymca.org.za/programs/youthdevelopment/ywi/index.php?pageno=211 I will be living with a host family in the town of Strandfontien (http://www.mapsofworld.com/south-africa/cape-town-city-map.html, look near legend.) If you try to search for Strandfontein on the net you will get the other, more touristy one.

Feb- April:
My work hours and exact jobs will be determined when I get there, but I plan to teach life skills and possibly Christian stuff in schools and prisons around the Cape Flats area. (The Cape Flats are the so-called "ghetto" of Cape town, where poor, mostly coloured people live. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cape_Flats). I also hope to wrestle for a local club team, and try to qualify for the South African or African championships (I have no idea how feasable that is.)

At the end of April, my work ends and I become a tourist. My girlfriend Kathryn is coming to visit around April 23. After a week in Cape Town, we will travel the Garden Route by bus, stopping at various scenic locations. (http://www.gardenroute.org/capetown/index.htm) After a couple days on a beach south of Durban (in which I plan to catch enormous fish) we plan to take a bus to Johannesburg. From them we will be taking an organized safari to the Kruger park ( http://www.sanparks.org/parks/kruger/) from May 13-18.

May-June:
Kathryn goes home on May 2oth. I then have until June 8 to seek adventure. (I can change my date of departure if needed but it will cost me money). I plan to spend a lot of that time in the bush. My plans for this time are necessarily fluid, but some things I might consider:

1) Doing cool stuff with relatives. They are aweome. (For example: http://filth-man.blogspot.com/2006/12/to-catch-giraffe-from-archives.html)
2) Visiting the Kgalagadi Transfrontier Park (http://www.sanparks.org/parks/kgalagadi/).
3) Drive to, and look at Botswana. Possibly visit some missionaries. "Lonely Planet" practically dares you to bike through Botswana, so if I can find some feasable way to do it that would be awesome.
4) I dunno. Shark fishing, I guess.

June 8: Depart for Canada from Cape Town.

Merry Christmas people! NO UTENSILS FOREVER!!!

No Utensils!

If you still want to read about the problem of Hell, click here. http://filth-man.blogspot.com/2006/12/problem-of-hell-since-i-am-going-to-be.html.


Anyways, you are invited to join me on the front lines, in the glorious WAR ON UTENSILS! The next great battle will be fought in the hallowed halls of Winter Camp, where the resistance first began.


Our song (with apologies to the Arrogant Worms http://www.poemhunter.com/song/carrot-juice-is-murder/)

"Come now my brothers and sisters,

Come hear my desperate tale,

I speak of our friends the Utensils

Trapped in our drawers like in jail

Cutlery lives in oppresion

Used at on our tables each night

The use of Utensils is madness,

I say it just isn't right!

Salad-forks are only for murders,

Spoons are a fascist regime!

Don't think that they dont' have feelings

Just 'cause Utensils can't screa-eaaaaam!!!"

"I've heard the screams of the cutlery

Shoved into our mouths at meals

Made to serve food without mercy,

How do you think that feels?"

Save the World... NO UTENSILS!!!

The Problem of Hell

Since I am going to be working for a Christian organization in Africa (which may or may not involve evangelism) I want to understand my own faith before teaching it to others. This is my attempt to think through the "problem of hell", my biggest struggle with Christian beliefs. If you're not into theology, this post might not be for you. And yes, it's too long.

Disclaimers: Biblical Inerrancy is not the topic of this post. I am going to assume the Bible is the Word of God and thus tells the truth. However, is prone to drastic mistranlation by it's incredibly errant readers, including myself. If you expect a neat solution to the problem of hell, you're reading the wrong blog.

The Problem of Hell can be summed up as "how can a loving God punish human beings for ever?" Since the Bible seems to teaches both God's omnibenevolence (total goodness) and His sending people to hell, this creates a problem for people such as myself. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Problem_of_hell)

I freely accept that neither my understanding nor my morality is perfect. I disagree the Bible about a lot of things, and realize that I am probably wrong. For me, the problem I have with hell becomes worse a) the more torturous hell is and b) the more difficult it is to avoid hell. While I will focus on b), there is lots written on a).

While the conservative view of hell has people literally burning forever, modern theology tends to teach hell as seperation from God, bringing emotional pain, rather than physical torture. J.P. Morland argues "the punishment of hell is seperation from God, bringing shame, anguish, and regret... so it is punishment, but it's also the natural consequence of a lfie that has been lived in a certain direction." I don't feel qualified to comment on the nature of hell, but I do find it interesting that the Bible describes hell as both a "lake of fire" and as "darkness" which makes it hard to take both literally. However, as C.S. Lewis points out, "metaphorical" flames can be as bad as real ones. The Bible also seems to state that in the afterlife, we will be punished or rewarded in proportion to our deeds (see Matt 11:20-24 or Revelation 20:12-13). Thus, someone like Stalin might be expeccted to suffer more in hell than a run-of-the-mill atheist.

On to point b: does everyone really get a fair chance to avoid hell?

Conservative Christianity argues that God is justified in sending people to hell because people break God's perfect laws. However, because God is merciful, Jesus was punished instead through crucifiction. Thus God can accept people into heaven. This is pretty basic Christian theology, if that is not your strong point read here. (http://www.new-testament-christian.com/salvation.html), or go to the source and read the book of Romans and the Gospel of John in the Bible. The trick, of course is that we have to "accept Jesus" to be saved. Statistically, 1/6th of the world is Christian. I'm sure God uses different numbers, but these statistics do point out that a hell of a lot of people have not "accepted Jesus". Are they all screwed?

This seems unfair for the following reasons:

a) Some people have no chance to accept Jesus because they are too young, or mentally deficient, to choose Him.
b) Some people that do hear about Jesus in circumstances not conducive to faith. It is difficult to expect, say, a Muslim during the Crusades to feel affection for the Christian God.
c) Some people, after much thought, can not believe in Jesus for whatever reason. They are honest non-believers.

A conservative might argue that God is not obliged to save anyone, and that hell is actually a fair fate for people. (A Calvinist might argue that God has already pre-picked people for heaven or hell.) This is a Biblical belief, certainly- that is, you ignore all the verses about God's infinite love and mercy and justice. (Or if you have a radically different concept of justice than I have. Lots of people do. A Christian soldier fighting in Iraq or Afghanistan, for example, might find it totally just that a devout Muslim go to hell.)

So anyway, I don't want to believe the Conservative viewpoint (and I totally admit to being biased and emotional when it comes to the doctrine of hell). If I must believe in a God I think is unjust, this creates a big problem for me. Therefore, I look words of hope for the billions who die without being conventional Christians. And some of the loopholes I actually find convincing...

Universalism: this is the belief that everyone eventually ends up in heaven. Hell is either non-existent or non-permanent. A hell-less Christianity seems to me to be flat out anti-Biblical. I am intrigued by the idea of a temporary hell, meant to purify evil people until they are ready for heaven. However, I need to research more before commenting on this. So, for now, I will assume that the "hell is forever" verses in the Bible were correctly translated. The site http://www.savior-of-all.com/ for those interested in Universalism, argues they were not.

Age of Accountability: this belief suggests that people too young or handicapped to know Jesus properly will be saved by God's mercy anyway. Even hard-line convervatives often believe this. An AOA believer sites David's belief that he will see his child in heaven (2 Samuel 12: 23) , or Jesus' comments about little children, for example Mark 10:14-15 "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it."

Conscious Rejection: This suggests that people that go to hell consciously reject God. That is, they willfully and defiantly refuse God's grace, and, in effect, choose hell for themselves. C.S. Lewis' "The Great Divorce", as well as modern Catholic theology have variations of the CR belief. J.P. Moreland argues "If we fail over and over agin to live for the purpose for we were made.... the God will have absolutely no choice but to give us what we've asked for all along in our lives, which is seperation from him... that's hell."

Of course, there are a lot of people that don't reject Jesus out of spite- they just don't find Christianity convincing, or feel secure in their own religion, or never hear about Christ. A CR believer would thus argue either:
a) that, despite appearances, non-Christian DO willfully reject the faith. People who claim to be honestly unconvinced are liars who would rather sin than follow Jesus. (I'm sure some people fit this category, but find it hard to believe all non-Christians do.) As for people who never heard of Jesus, if they really are looking then He will reveal Himself through miraculous means. (http://www.brokenmasterpieces.com/archives/000347.html for example. ) I'm not sure what I think of the "miraculous revelation" idea. It's cool, but I doubt that it's widespread.

b) The earth is a battlefield for souls between the forces of good and evil. Sometimes the devil wins through deception. Matt 13:19 says "The seed sown on the path is the one who hears the word of the kingdom without understanding it, and the evil one comes and steals away what was sown in his heart." However, the lack of understanding that allows the evil one to steal the seed is suggested earlier in the chapter to come from the willful hardening of one's heart. Perhaps God allows the devil to decieve those who "want" to be decieved? I find it hard to believe a God willing to die for a human salvation would let billions go to Hell as collateral damage, unless they precipitated it by their own free will.

c) perhaps people are judged "based on the light that is shown them." It is pretty clear Biblically that people can be condemmned withou hearing about Jesus (Romans 10), but can they be saved? According to the "light shown them" belief, people who don't hear about Jesus are judged based on their response to God shown through the natural world and their conscience (and- in my personal heretical view- perhaps their own religion). Thus they are saved or condemned based their response to what they have. The book of Romans 2 suggests such a theology, epsecially veses 7-8 and 14-16.

Romans 14-16: "For when Gentiles who do not have the Law do instinctively the things of the Law, these, not having the Law, are a law to themselves, in that they show the work of the Law written in their hearts, their conscience bearing witness and their thoughts alternately accusing or else defending them, on the day when, according to my gospel, God will judge the secrets of men through Christ Jesus."

Romans 7-8: "to those who by perseverance in doing good seek for glory and honor and immortality, eternal life; but to those who are selfishly ambitious and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness, wrath and indignation."

To me, these verses strongly suggests a judgement the possiblility of salvation, based on a response to one's own conscience. "Seeking for glory" isn't exactly a convential Christianity, but it is the honest desire to please God.

What response, exactly, is acceptable for a God who saves people through "faith in Christ"? A common answer (and perhaps the only possible one) is "we do not know and can only trust in God's mercy and fairness... We do know that the tribesman will have a better chance if he is told about Christ, so let's do that and leave the rest to God."

The Bible is rarely as clear-cut as systematic theology. I personally love the "light shown them" idea, and there is a bunch of verses that can be used to support it. Below are some.

A) The Jesus of the 1st 3 gospels, who talks a lot about hell, seems to point to avoiding evil deeds and doing good deeds as a basis for salvation or condemnation, instead of intellectual belief. (Matt 5:29, 5:30, Mark 9:43-47, Matt 31: 41-43 among many). His parable of the "sheep and the goats" (Matt 21: 35-46) suggests the way we treat our neighbor is what we are judged on. The parable of the ungrateful servant (Matt 18: 21-35) suggests God's forgiveness depends on our own. Also, Jesus tells several people that they will be judged much more harshly, having seen Him and His miracles face to face, then others whose sin will not be counted against them because of their lack of knowledge. (Matt 11: 20-24). These Gospels suggest, to me, that people who do not know a lot about Christ can still show love to their neighbor, obey their conscience, and forgive others and thus please God. (Yes, I realize this poses another problem, since I believe that I AM assured of heaven through my belief.)

B) The Bible says that God loves everyone and wants them in heaven.If God wants everyone to go to heaven, why would he create people with no chance to do so? A sampling of verses, some of which seem downright Universalist:

1 Tim 2:4 [God] will have all men to be saved, and to come to knowledge of the truth

1 Tim 4:9-11 This is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance- and for this we labor and strive- that we put our hope in the Living God, who is the Savior of all men, but especially those who believe.

2 Peter 3:9 The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient towards you, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

C) Hebrews 11, the ultimate "by Faith" chapter, mentions a bunch of people who have never heard of Christ, because they were born before Him. Nor were they especially moral. Yet the Bible suggests they went to heaven. Abrhaham came from a pagan culture. Joshua was a brutal warlord (though a God-sanctioned one.) Rahab was a Caananite prostitue. Samson was an egotistical psychopath whose big act of faith was a cry for vengenace, which allowed him to kill thousands. Yet all these, not one of them Christians, are commended for their faith. Jesus is called the "author and perfector" of our faith, right after a bunch of people are listed for their faith... but they didn't know Jesus! Interesting. Could it be that God looks at our hearts, not our knowledge?

Moreland argues "[people] don't consciously reject heaven and choose to go to hell instead. But they do choose not to care about the kinds of values present in heaven every day." C.S. Lewis thinks "There are two kinds of people: those who say to God, "Thy will be done," and those to whom God says, "All right, then, have it your way." "

D) The book of Jonah in the Bible is an interesting case study, though it's not about the afterlife. It's about God sending Jonah to Ninevah, the Capital of Assyria, to warn them that God is going to destroy Ninevah for it's people evil deed.

The first interesting thing I find is that when Jonah is on the ship, the pagan sailors who have many gods, instinctively respond with humility and obedience to the real God despite their lack of knowledge. Jonah, who hears God's voice personally and has no reason to doubt His existence is the disobedient one.

Eventually, Jonah gets to Ninevah and preaches his message of destruction. And the Ninevites, shockingly, repent! They go around "giving up their evil ways" and begging for God's mercy. (Which God? Assyrians hardly have the same concept of God as Jonah.) And God shows mercy, as he often did to the Old Testament Jews when they repented. Jonah, however is angry. He wants to see fireworks. God tells him "Ninevah has more than a hundred and twenty thousand people who can not tell their right hand from their left, and many cattle as well. Should I not be concerned about that great city?" The mercy is given in response to an honest desire for forgiveness, not knowledge of correct doctrine.

E) Finally, and this is more a philosophical than a scriptural argument, if correct doctrine is necessary to go to heaven, we run into a problem of degree.

Let us propose, for example, that C.S. Lewis got Christianity 100% correct. (Lewis is a good example because he was well aware that he did not.) C.S. Lewis understands the Bible, and Christian theology, as well as is humanly possible. Thus his faith is not only saving, it is also "correct."

Few people would argue that anyone who disagrees with C.S. Lewis is going to hell (least of all Lewis himself.) John Calvin, Martin Luther, Mother Theresa, Philip Yancey, Billy Graham and so on... Most Christians would agree that, dispite their substantial doctrinal differences, they are all saved. Hang on! Mother Theresa? She's Catholic... she believes stuff that (I think) is flat out contra-Biblical! Yes her faith still saves her. How far can we go with this? Is the genuine, God-centered faith of the Jehova's witness enough to save him, while the Mormon goes to hell? How about Ghandi, who lived an amazing life based on Jesus' teachings but remained a Hindu? How abouta a devout Muslim in the heart of India where the Gospel rarely penetrates? A modern person who is "spirtual but not religious"?

I don't pretend to know where, or if, God "draws the line". It seems to me, however, that a fair and loving God would look at the heart of each individual person more than their mind. It a person genuinely submits to God (as they see him) and throws themselves on the mercy of God (as they understand Him) will he refuse them and send them to Hell? I don't know... I don't pretend to know... but I sure hope not. After researching for this blog post, I have found enough Biblical reasons to keep hoping.

I would be remiss if I did not mention that many ideas of mine were taken from the following sources (in fact, very little of this post is my own ideas):

http://www.danhickerson.net/Non_Christians.html

http://www.catholic.com/thisrock/2003/0302fea3.asp

http://www.savior-of-all.com/

Philip Yancey. I've forgotton the book names but remember the ideas. Sorry, Philip.

C.S. Lewis. The Great Divorce and The Last Battle

Lee Strobel: The Case for Faith. His interview with J.P. Moreland is about the problem of hell.

http://www.twentyfeet.blogspot.com/. My good friend Jacob always writes about stuff like this and I steal ideas from him liberally.

God. The Bible. (I've always wanted to write that.)

To Catch a Giraffe

From the Archives... this is from an email I wrote back home last time I was in Africa in 2003, after editing for legibility and relevance. At the time, I was priviledged enough to participate in giraffe capture. I post this because, well, giraffe catching may be the most fun I have ever had.

The really exciting surprise happened on Tuesday when my uncle said he had a job later in the week and I could go with him. You see, he has one of the most exciting jobs on the planet. Trained as a veterinarian, he decided to go into the game capture business. Game capture- catching wildlife- is a small but lucrative business in Namibia. Both the government-owned nature reserves and the game farms are constantly buying and selling and moving wildlife, but of course you can’t just tell the animals to go from one place to another so my uncle atches them. The animal we were going to catch is giraffes. A group of guys who capture animals for a living needed a vet (by law, a vet must be present when large animal tranquillizers are used, since they are 10,000 times more powerful than morphine, and lethal to human beings) and so he had to go off into the bush- near the Etosha pan, for those of you who know Namibia. Off we went.

We finally reached the farm we heard the whole story. The farmer was going to sell the farm and wanted all the giraffes- 10 of them- off of it so that he could sell them separately. It turned out the capture crew- a large group of small but incredibly muscular Africans- were experienced and fearless in game capture but had never caught giraffes. We soon fixed that deficiency. Even better, I got to be a part of the team and help with almost all the parts of the capture.

The giraffe is probably the most technically difficult and dangerous of animals to catch. The reason is that they don’t react well to tranquillizers- they die. However, since a giraffe is much too fast and powerful to catch without being drugged, the game capture guys have come up with an intricate system. A helicopter pilot will fly the vet (in this case my uncle) around over the land until they find a giraffe and then chase it towards the capture team- a bunch of guys waiting in a Landrover. This was especially difficult in our case because the entire area was covered in almost impenetrable bush, so the chopper had to chase the giraffe onto one of the various paths the vehicles travelled and keep them there, at which they were moderately successful. The chopper let us know where he was headed by 2-way radio, and we drove to the place at breakneck speeds, sitting in the back of the Landrover and ducking branches. Once vehicle, giraffe and chopper were close together, my uncle would shoot the giraffe with a tranquillizer dart and the fun would begin.

The capture team then has to catch the giraffe. This has to be well timed- if it goes after the giraffe too quickly, before the drug has taken effect, it will outrun them with ease, but if it waits too long the giraffe will fall on its own and might die. We wait until the giraffe is slowing down and stumbling (as if drunk, and indeed the Afrikaans word used to describe its condition is “dronk”) and then position the vehicle in front of it. Two guys holding a long rope run towards the giraffe, stretching the rope across his chest. As soon as that is done a bunch of other guys grab the rope as well. We then let it slide around the giraffe’s legs and, by pulling, take the giraffe off its feet. As soon as it falls one man runs to its head and holds it down, which keeps the giraffe from rising. Another puts a blindfold over its eyes. Meanwhile the vet has been dropped off by the chopper and rushes over to deliver the antidote to the tranquillizer by injection into the giraffe’s neck. Once that happens the giraffe is safe from poisoning, and we can afford to take our time. Of course, the recovered giraffe is now a lot more difficult to deal with.

While several people keep the animal on the ground by controlling its head, two ropes are looped around the neck. A second Landrover, pulling the giraffe trailer, gets as close as possible to the animal (easier said than done in thick bush). Then the giraffe is released, given a push, and everyone scrambles away as it gains its feet. Using the ropes around its neck, as well as a pair of long ropes tied to the trailer that are crossed behind the giraffe, we then get it into the trailer. This is often extremely difficult since the giraffe struggles, especially when feeling the unfamiliar ramp of the trailer beneath its feet. It is also dangerous for the giraffe, which can break a leg if it falls in the trailer. However, by using a whole lot of manpower, pulling on some ropes and loosening others depending on how the giraffe reacts, one can eventually wrestle it into the trailer. The giraffe is then driven to the larger loading trailer, while my uncle and another man hang on to the top of the trailer, manoeuvring the blindfolded animal’s head away from overhanging branches (and receiving some wicked slashes from thorns in the process.) The poor giraffe is, understandably, anything but calm and makes an awe-inspiring din as it tries to kick its way out of the cast-iron trailer.

Once the large main trailer is reached ropes are passed through the body of the trailer, which as bars like a cage. If there already giraffes in there, the ropes are thrown through one side of the cage and caught on the other. One rope is used to restrain the giraffes already present, two to pull the new giraffe in. The doors to both trailers are flung open and the pulling begins anew. It is pretty easy, though, to transfer the giraffe since it has no where to go but into the main trailer. Once it is inside the doors are slammed shut and some of the more nimble men climb to the top of the trailer and remove the blindfold from the animal.

Throughout all these complicated and difficult processes, the one all-encompassing and oft-repeated mantra is “don’t get kicked.” There is a good reason for this. Any nature book will take you that giraffes can kill a lion with one kick, and they can decapitate a person with ease. Giraffes are inoffensive creatures- they don’t attack people like a buffalo or a hippo might- but anything will defend itself when threatened and the giraffe does so very effectively. It can kick with any one of its four legs, and the hard, saucer-sized hooves slash with lightning speed

No two captures were the same, of course, but the one that will be forever etched in my mind was the fifth giraffe we caught, a big female. The capture should have been picture perfect- she was drugged and driven along a path next to the fence, and was too “dronk” to avoid us as we headed her off. However, the guy on the capture rope lost his nerve- not that I blame him- because the giraffe was huggin the fence, and he was in danger of being crushed by running around to that side. I was running behind these two guys, ready to help with the pulling once the animal was trapped. When the giraffe got past them I grabbed one end of a “head rope” (the head-roping guys run behind the original capture team), ran in front of the giraffe, spanned the rope nicely across its chest and dug my heels in. The result was predictable- I am not as strong as a giraffe.The giraffe tore the rope easily from my hands, but not before giving me wicked rope-burn on my left hand and causing me throwing me rather spectacularly onto the ground, twisting my right ankle. It did slow the animal just enough that the capture team could catch up to it and encircle it with their rope. This time we got it right, and with many people on the rope- I made sure to get my left, healthy hand on it- we threw the massive animal down. I felt a savage joy as it crashed to the ground.

However, this was not the end of the story. While we were still getting the head-ropes fastened, and before the trailer was positioned properly, the guys holding the giraffe down slipped and it staggered to its feet, shaking the blindfold off in the process. What followed was a truly incredible spectacle that I wish was caught on tape. Able to see, the giraffe decided that a good offence was the best defence. Lashing out with its hooves, shredding bushes like paper, it rushed towards the guys on one of the ropes, which fled for their lives. The giraffe would then turn and run towards another group of guys- remember, there were three ropes around the giraffe- sending them scattering while the team that had fled before rushed after the rope they had just dropped to stop the animal. All of us had our turn running and pulling and it was pretty intense. The giraffe soon rid itself of every rope except one, and it would have gotten clean away, but one of the guys wrapped the rope end around a tree, and while he and I and several others hung on, the rest of the team grabbed the capture rope and wrapped the giraffe up again. Everyone was relieved then when animal came down a second time, and once we got the blindfold back on it was loaded without further difficulty.

Back in Edmonton

Here are some random pictures, first of all.

1) "Heeeyyyy!" kids at the children's home love pictures

2) A child gets her "Operation Christmas Child" box. "Let's take lots of pictures and show them around... everyone likes happy children."

3) The "dhobie ghat", where people was your clothes

4) The milk project, where kids who don't get enough protien in their diet are given milk and egg once a week.

5) "Hey... if we miss the bus to school, we can play guns!"

6) Ummm... it's another tiger picture. Wait until I see a cheetah up close, you will never hear the end of it.

7) Look closely at the tourist's head. Up above it are the wild pigs the tiger is stalking.

8) Frick, I love monkeys. Everything about them is funny. (Except maybe this picture)

9) Trained elepant. Surrounded by both elephant poo and pee.

10) A beautiful man on the beautiful Amber Fort.

First things first: Seems like I've written a lot lately (I enjoy it for some reason, plus lots has been happening) so you might want to look at other, more important posts before this one if you haven't read for a while.

So, I,m back... Everything went well, except for some foolish lady in Toronto, who got some luggage misplaced after we went through customs. (I had to fly from Toronto to Edmonton.)

Woman at counter: "Place your luggage on belt 2"
(Jens obediently places his luggage on belt 2)
Woman in uniform standing there: Stop! Put your luggage on belt 1! Jens: Uh, the ticket agent said to put it on belt 2. Besides, the sign for belt 2 says "going to Canadian locations' and belt 1 says "going to the U.S."
Lady: "Don't listen to the signs, just put it on belt 1!!!"

Shockingly, our luggage did not make it, but the airline is kindly gonna drive it to my house. On the flight back to Edmonton, I sat between a newlywedish couple that didn't want to give up their ailse-and-window seats to sit together, so I spent 4 hours trying to sleep while the two of them teased each other over top of me, and grabbed my arm every time the girl needed to pee, which seemed to happen a lot.

I'll be moderately busy and out-of-town for the next month. I may still blog stuff as it comes to me... but my travelling begins anew on Jan. 3, where (Internet acess permitting) I will try to write more stuff.

To everyone that took the time to read about my India trip, thank you.

Final Report (for Real this Time)

Today I went to see the Taj Mahal. The Taj, for those of you who don't know, is an elaborate tomb built by a muslim king for his favorite wife. Their names escape me, but I do remember that they were married for 17 years, in which she underwent 14 childbirths. The last one killed her, and the king built the Taj in her memory The building is- well, I think the technical term is "friggin cool". It looks awesome from the outside- the structure is well known- and also from the inside, where cameras are not permitted. The hand-carved marble bears floral designs in the distinctive Mogul muslim style (of which I know exactly this sentence). Inside the taj, the flowers are brightly colored, inlaid with gemstones. As my mom keeps mentioning, the Taj is one of the only clean places in India. Everywhere else, the streets are lined with filth and refuse, paint peels from hotel walls, mangy dogs and garbage-eating cows roam the streets and children beg for money. In the Taj, food is prohibited to keep out garbage, and armed guards make sure everyone takes their shoes off to avoid soiling the polished marble. (Aparently nothing is as disgusting to people her as a shoe.) I have yet to see the Taj with the lighting "just right" (sunrise, sunset and moonlight are popular times), but it's plenty awesome with regular lighting. If I were a romantic, my heart would melt. Since I am not, I turn to more bitter thoughts...

Usually, seeing stuff like this annoys me. While forts and palaces have a practical use at least, millitary defense, nut monuments and fancy tombs seem to be extravagant displays of self-importance, foolish monuments to egotism built on the backs of those that have nothing, with money that could be used to feed the starving. The obvious difference here is that the Taj was built for someone else. (Also, as far as I know the king paid his workers, though he did lop off the had of his architect to keep him from designing another such masterpiece).

The Taj, then can be seen as an enormous labor of love (of which I am ceremoniously reminded by wild monkeys having sex on the enterance gate). It can be the pride of an entire country which still provides joy to millions (and indeed, most of the visitors are Indian), or a colossal waste of resources for someone who is still dead.

Speaking of... I've been thinking a lot about the Christian doctrine of hell lately. (I know, my posts just keep getting happier.) Seems to me that, like the Taj, my faith can be seen in two ways. Either Christianity is a beautiful light in the darkness, a banquet of God's amazing grace, in which all are invited and only those that refuse to enter are excluded. Or my faith is an exclusive club, in which the lucky (predestined?) few get love and mercy while the multitudes (most of India, for example) get eternally tortured for believing the wrong things. Both views are at least somewhat scriptrual, I think. Obviously, I would like to believe the former, especially in a country where many people have devout faith in God (or gods) but don't know about Christ. The doctrine of hell is something I need to figure out, I think, before I grow spirtually because it keeps sticking in my throat, blocking out all the good I want to believe about God. Perhaps when I get my thoughts together I'll write about that.

On a much lighter note (and I am enjoying myself immensely, not sitting around thinking about hell all the time), we went on an elephant ride up to a fort. I envy the mahouts, whose job it is to direct an elephant... what a sweet job! At the same time, I'm acutely aware that an elephant is about 20 x your size, and it only needs to get ticked off once... anyway, elephant riding rocks.

Wildlife Pics

1) Tiger stalks across the road
2) WAAYYY too close to comfort
3) Monkey business
4) sparring sambar


So, we are on the road again, which means I am glad to be male. In the cramped compartments of public transport train travelling, females have two distinct disadvantages:

1) Young men stare at them, shamelessly and openly. My beautiful blonde-haired blue eyed sister constantly attracts a gaggle of obnoxious admirers, who do everything but drool. Sometimes we glare back and it helps for a little while.

2) Toilets. There are "Indian Style" toilets that are a glorified hole in the ground, western toilets that refuse to flush, a hotel room toilet that sprays water all over the room every time you flush... oh yeah, and in lieu of toilet paper you wash yourself off with a bucket. Luckily for me, if there's one thing you learn tree planting, it is to poo in less than ideal situations.

We are currently in fort-exploring mode. Ranthambore had a truly spectacular, vine-encrusted and monkey-filled fort straight from "the Jungle Book". Tempes to Hindu, Muslim and Christian gods cover the top, and fearless monkeys boldly snatch wreaths from the worshipperts.Jaipur is filled with old castles, palaces and towers which are covered in grafitti but still radiate thje majesty of the mogul hordes whcih built them. Jaipur is fairly touristy, which means the locals make a fine living off the exchange rate. However, if you are willing to drive a hard bargain (walking away works wonders) you can get some pretty cool stuff.

Perhaps the best part of the day was when our autorickshaw ran out of gas on the road, and the one with my mom and sister in it promptly slammed into us. Undeterred, the "Back" rickshaw powered us to our location, a local sitting in the passanger's seat and pushing ours with his foot. Ingenuity, hilarity and a little excitement (we dead this into oncoming traffic) all in one.

Sorrry to make this post so short, but I had to re-start 3 times and it's dinner time.

India Report 8 from Ranthambore

ite INDIA REPORT # 8 FROM RANTHAMBORE

The tigress lay in the grass, long, thick limbs relaxed beneath her. She paid the stinking vehicles absolutely no heed... what harm did they do? Instead she focused on the deer. A herd of sambar were deep in the swamp, eating the lucsious water plants, 0blivious to the cat hidden in the grass. Herds of spotted deer- chital- and wild boar also ambleed past. On dry land lay a pair of truly enormous sambar bulls. In her younger days the tigress might have given them a go- her 250 kg of muscle were a match for any creature- but she had recently lost some canine teeth in battle with a 15 foot crocodile. She had killed the croc, but now found it harder to kill other prey.

A herd of wild boars stumbled by, oblivious, nervously regarding the vehicles. The tigress pressed herself into the grass, making herself flat, but she was painfully aware that she was visible from one side. The pigs came close... closer... almost... the tiger's explosivenes and power are equal to none, but once they hit full stride a pig or deer could outrun her. She shifted position, trying to hide in the thicker grasss, but the pigs saw her and galloped away, snorting in alarm.

The tigress got up, slowly, majestically. Every inch of her body rippled with he power that had made her the biggest and dominant female in the entire park, the power that enabled her to provide for 2 small cubsl with only one fang left. Using the vehicles as shields, keeping them between her and the sambar, the slunk closer to another patch of grass. The gawking humans above- clicking pictures and making awed faces- would have been easy meat, but she saw the trucks as one giant entity, made of rubber and metal, not meat. She gained the long grass encircling the marsh, but as she did a deer on the hill behind her saw the orange creature and snorted loud alarm. Instantly the chital that had been feeding in the vegetation scattered, and the hunter disappeared into the grass to wait.

We saw the tiger from the back of a canter, a kind of flat-bed safari truck were tourists sit in the bed, and yes, she did use it as as a shield from the deer. We waited for over and hour, tense, willing the tiger to make a kill. Several deer came close, but not close enough, and when she finally came out of the grass they took off. She made a half- hearted lope after them, perhaps hoping one was injured or lazy, but no deer was close enough to catch. Finally, the cat gave up and the canter drove us home, elated.

We have two safaris left, but it will be difficult to top this one." We had hoped to see a tiger, even just one, but never dreamed of seeing a friggin' hunt where the cat stalked by almost close enough to touch. (Oh yes, there will be pictures, when I find a computer where I can upload them. If you search for "tiger vs crocodile" or similar on google or youtube, you can see the tigress and her battle with the crocodile. (Thanks to our guide for providing background information on the individual animal.) The same guide also pronounced our sighting "the best one of the entire season." Not much else to say... that was sweet.

India Report 7

INDIA REPORT # 7

"The lynx was dead. But the she-wolf was very weak and sick."- White Fang

"Rather than seek pity, sensing rather that weakness of any kind is something to be ashamed of, the animal crawls away to await the outcome: recovery or death"- Lassie Come Home

So there I was, sick as a dog, and for some reason I thought of quotes about sick dogs. I don't know why, though I blame the fever, and the hours spent lying there doing absolutely nothing. (By the way, I read those books when I was about 10, so the quotes are most likely wrong.) Anyway, I caught a pretty nasty flu bug the other day, had a bit of a fever, a vicious headache, and spent a day and a half in bed. Nothing like lying in bed, feeling like suck and having your mom and sister discuss malaria, and your presence or absence of it's symptoms. Rest assured however, that I do not have malaria, nor any other cool tropical disease, but simply the flu. By the time you read this I will be healthy again (I am already vastly improved.) Also, due to a lack of eating and sudden disgust at the thought of greasy, spicy curry, I will be thinner, with much less work, than weeks of running could do!

So, we head off tomorrow. Our itenerary for the last weekish is as follows:
We will travel to a nearby city with the Reverend and family, to see a project his daughter is running that gives milk and eggs to poor children

We will take the train to Mumbai. From there, we will train to Ranthambore National park. From there to Jaipur, which I know absolutely nothing about, except that it's both filthy and pretty- just like me! From there, probably to the Taj Mahal, and then to Delhi, where my mom and I fly back, while my sister travels with friends.

And finally, my"deep" thoughts for the day: this is the kind of stuff my mom and sister were discussing deep into the night, making me sleep deprived and thus subsceptible to ilness. (In their defence, my decision to do push-ups instead of trying to sleep did not help.)

# 1) To what extend it morality cultural? (I know the standard Christian answer is "it's not"). Most of us would agree that, say, dousing your wife with kerosene and lighting her on fire is wrong no matter where you do it. (This was how more than one of the kids here got orphaned.) However, in some cases it's much less clear cut. Although the Indian Christians disavow the caste system, we've noticed that they still seem to have a bit of a class-oriented attitude. Those with less money, less prestigous jobs, etc are expected to do simple but menial tasks for the wealther and lazier: "get me a glass", "here pass this Bible to that person" etc. Uncomfortable? Certainly. Immoral? I'm not sure... I like to think that, while I was a "holy crap it's a white person!" visitor in the villages, I set a bit of a good example for the Indian pastors by rolling up my sleeves and getting into the mud to help get a truck unstuck. Not that the Indian pastors don't do an enormous amount of good, or show a ton of love, for those less fortunate, mind you. They do, and they are much more to be admired than questioned.

And an enormous thanks go out everyone who helped to contribute financially to the mission, both readers and non-readers of this blog. (Yes, I realize that you need to read the blog to read the thank you, but the mission recieved generous gifts from people who have never heard of filth-man.) Most of the money was spent to buy rice, which is much cheaper now (it is just post-harvest) than later in the year. Thanks largely to your donations, the mission has been able to purchase over 600 sacks of rice. (We need 1000 for the year.) That's awesome.

India Report 6

Given that I leave the mission in 3 days, and I might not be able to blog again for a while, I'm gonna write down a bunch of random stuff that I haven't jammed into a previous entry. Do not expect order, flow or any kind of rational continuation (kind of like an Indian pastor's progress report). There are pics at the bottom.

When people in India want to say "yes" they don't move their head up and down like we do in Canada. Rather, the wobble it from side to side, kind of like those bobblehead dolls some people have on their dashboards. Straight side to side means no (just like in Canada), side so side wobble means yes. It gets confusing. I try to imitate the wobble, but due to my notoriously stiff neck it turns invariable into a Ricky Martin type hip shuffle.

The "hill" I wanted to run up has turned more into a "walk" up, due not to lack of effort, vut due to steepness and heat. The whole thing is a catholic shrine... you start out at the bottom, at a catholic church, zigzag up the path past devout catholics, many of whom are doing ridiculous feats that I can only assume are a form of pennance- crawling over the cobblestones on their knees or carrying heavy sacks on their heads. At the top is a statue of Jesus crucified, and it's quite a religous experience, staggering up to the cross, gasping for breath and totally exhausted. There are moments of comedy too, usually involving the locals. Trying to find a shortcut through the bush, I quickly realized it was going nowhere, I ran back to the path, realized there was a 5 foot drop to the road, jumped off it, landed in a crouch and hit the ground running. But not before seeing the look of sheer horror on the face of a couple of women and children.., may never have seen a white man before, let along a sweat-soaked wild-eyed one jump off a ledge in front of them.

Some interesting cultural differences (so far as I can tell):
Men show affection to each other in public, but not to women. One man in particular shows too much affection, repeatedly, until I finally threatened to beat him up. Really. Ask me for the full story.
Women don't expose thier legs in public. However, they do explose their bellies, in between the "skirt" part of thier sari and their top, a sports-bra-like upper body garment that they also wrap their sari around.
Chubbyness is almost a status symbol. Since the majority of the are either hungry or laborers, and thus skinny.wiry, having a bit of a belly shows that you are not poor.

Man, the kids here lead regimented lives. They are happy (as far as I can tell) but very busy.
They get up very early to do chores, have school from 10-4, come home, do homework for 2 hours, have devotions, eat an enermous supper, and go to bed. They do get some free time in there, but not a whole lot. We've been spending an hour a day playing with the kids. The boys stop being sweet little kids and become competitive athletes very quickly. They fight over the ball (even with teammates), rally around the biggest and strongest, yell and scream and basically make good candidates for "Barbarian camp". Their hand eye coordination is just sick.. one of their games is whipping a tennis back back and forth- hard- and snagging it from the air one handed.

Speaking of sports, I think my retirement from wrestling may end. I found out that I can train in South Africa- perhaps even with the 84 kg African champ, which would end in beating for me I'm sure but might be fun. they have the South African Greco championships while I am over there, so I might go try my luck. I have done ok in Canada in Greco, with 2 national bronze medals, but that's with a small talent pool that's pretty inexperienced in the style. "Umm, arm throw? Hip toss?" As a bonus, Greco seems to require less cardiovascular fitness!

We went to a village of "bull dancers". The men of the tribe dress up a bull in bright color that is better seen than described (see bottom of post), and then make the bull "dance." there are some cool tricks- who knew that a bull could fit a man's neck in his mouth? but mostly the run around with the bull like crazy, getting him close enough that you think he's gonna run you over. The control over the massive animal is impressive. Funniest of all is the village boys, who are supposed so stay away (the bull dancers will smack them if they get within range), but who really want to be bull dancers themselves and play chicken with the big animal while imitating the dance steps.

I always find extremely spiritual places, like foreign missions, a little stressful. A constant focus on God makes think about all the doubts and questions I have. I find it hard to relax when topics like the suffering of children and the eternal destiny of human beings is constantly being discussed. What this says about my own spiritual life, and dedication (or lack thereof) to my faith I'm not sure.

I don't think I've ever met people who pray as much as the pastors do here. I've written up all their progress reports, and standard is several prayer nights a week, plus a long church service on Sunday, plus several days of fasting and prayer, and all night prayer vigils, every month. then there's family and personal praying time. I can't decide if this is amazing or excessive. However, you can't argue with results, I guess... Churches and new christians are springing up everywhere like wildfire, and this among the Hindu people, which are notoriously difficult to convert.

These pastors may wear their big bellies proudly, but they are not soft. They live in what we would consider huts. One of the big goals of our mission is to build them parsonages, houses with electricity and toilets, and most importanty, good roofs. That way, rain and snakes dont' get it. Cobras are actually a common problem. I was in one hut where feral cats came in through the roof, which means a) loads of room to get in and b) lots or mice around for the snakes to eat. One pastor actually lost a kid when a friggin' snake crawed into his hut and it. Sucks.

I would also be remiss if I didn't ask for money... I hate doing it, but the money is sorely needed, and Ive seen enough to convince me that it will be well spent. Total cost to:
build a pasonage or church-$5000
buy a 75 kg bag of rice to feel childen- $25
Sponsor a child or pastor- $25-30 per month

Email me if you are interested, please. I will gladly provide more details, but I feel uncomforable providing personal info for others over a blog anyone can read. We are currently making DVD's to "advertise" the mission, I will gladly share some when I get back home. Making these DVD's is a rediculous amount of work, since the software is posessed by anti-productivity demons.

Finally, we are in the process of booking enterance to Ranthambore national park, supposedly THE place to see tigers in the wild. Tigers! My one stipulation when going to India was "I want a chance to see a tiger in the wild." My mom and sister could plan everything else (which they did quite excellently, I might add) but I wanted that shot at seeing a tiger. Now it looks as if I may get it.

Pics:
1) A bull eats someone's head
2) awww... children with puppies! Who can resist the double cuteness?
3) Some local villagers

Pictures 2

Not so many, and you'll have to ask my sister if you want good ones, but here goes.

1) The tradition Indian welcome- garlands. We got about 10 of them (at least).
2) "Operation Christmas Child" boxes at work
3) Jens fearlessly touches a water buffalo, and realizes it's much like touching a cow
4) happy children
5) The Haji Ali mosque in Mumbai


























er for

India Report 5 (nothing happens)

So, I cut my arm today...

Relax, just a scratch. I was scrambing down a hillside, grabbed a tree to slow a skid, and got a little scrape. The way people reacted to it, you'da thought I'd rammed the arm through my kidney. Anyway, I found a "mountain" to climb... a hill, actually. It's right behind a catholic church, and all along the steep, cobblestoned path are stations of the cross. It was very wierd, put at the top, watching people pray and then turn and ask us for pictures and autographs. The obsession with white people/foreigners here is insane.

Without betraying anyone's privacy,here is the history of most of the children that are taken care of by the mission. (There are roughly equal girls and boys, but writing his/her every time is a pain, and because I am male, will be our prototypical child.) I've typed up about 10 billion progress reports. These are double-translated: they are written in Telegu, translated into English, then I translate them into "Western" English, changing such interesting phrases as "their father plays with bufallo" and ones that readers might find offensive, like "the child is not intelligent." Christianese phrases are left as written.

Child so-and-so hails from such-and-such a village. His father is a daily wage laborer/has another low paying job, and his mother is also a wage laborer/homemaker. His father is/is not an alcoholic. The parents barely make enough money to pay for food and education for the children.

After the ilness/death/alchohol or adultery induced departure of one/both parents, the child is cared for by the other parent/grandparents. However, the meager income is not enough to support the child.

The parents/grandparents approach pastor whats-his-name, and with his cooperation the child joins the mission home.

The child joined the mission in some year, and is now so old and in a grade. He does well/struggles in school. His favorite subjects are this and that. He attends Sunday School and has learned singing and bible stories. He is shy/mischivous/a natural leader with his peers. He is growing strong spiritually in the Lord. He wants to be a doctor/nurse/engineer/pastor and help the poor and bring Glory to God.

The children live in 2 different dorm houses, one of which has a school attached. They have house parents to care for them. They get plenty of food, though it's simple. Rice forms the majority of every meal. If you'd like to donate a bag of rice, now is the time to buy and it's $25 for a 75 kg bag. Please leave a comment with contact email or email me if you are interested. They are well educated in local schools, and brought to the doctor when necessary. The one thing they seem to lack is personal one-on-one attention to adults. This can nor really be helped, as there simply aren't enough adults to go around. We are trying to do our part by spending time with the kids. They especially like photos. The boys are very athletic, and like to play "soccer"- kicking a tennis ball into the wall of the opposing building to score. Bicycles, geese, passers-by and girls are considered natural obstacles. They also love cricket, which is a dumb to play as it is to watch.

Not much has actually happened since my last blog, we continue to be treated like kings, and to work in the office. The internet here- no wait, if I try to describe the frustration I will descent into cursing. Let's just say mega-suck and leave it at that.

India Report 4ish

(disclaimer: my comments on "Indian culture" and the like are based on my observations, and people telling me stuff, not statistics or objective study or anything. Probably not true in all places in all cases.)

So, we've spent a couple of days touring villages. Despite the enormous cities in India (1 million people rates a "town"), the majority of people still live in rural villages. The villagers grow their own food and/or work as daily wage laborers on the farms of the wealthy few. Visiting them (with several area pastors) is an experience to remember. The pastor at the children's mission also leads a program that builds parsonages and trains evangelists, and he and his compatriots go to "visit the flock" whenever they have guests, once every few months or so.

A typical village visit goes something like this:

1: We drive the the village by taxi. My mom mentions the insanity of the traffic roughly once for every 7 minutes of driving. All of us roll down the windows to take pictures, undoubtedly looking very stupid.

2: We arrive and walk to the parsonage (pastor's home, plus church hang-out place). The parsonages, like the other houses, are simple structures with a couple of rooms. They have electric lights and- importantly- celing fans, but few modern conveniences. These people don't have much. They- being Indian Christians- are also a huge minority in the country. The majority Hindus are usually, but not always, content to let the Christians do their own thing. Some Hindus will even come to the church gatherings.

3: The villagers line up enthusiastically to greet us. We are given garlands of colorful flowers, a traditonal method of greeting. Everyone is grinning wide, waving and cheering and laughing. You put your hands together straight up and down, bow a little, and say "namaste" to greet them in the traditional style. We were very uncomfortable with all the attention.... the pastor's non-PC (but it seems to be very true) comment that "one white person makes an entire village happy" didn't help. Finally we realized that the villages really do love to have guests, and are basically looking for an excuse to celebrate, so we decided to enjoy being Rock Stars for a couple of days.

4: There is generally some sort of church worship. Long, somewhat redundant (especially if you can't understand) songs are sung in Telegu, the local language. (There is no language called "Indian", rather there are a plethora of them. The most common is Hindi.) A pastor speaks, messages ranging from a short greeting to a full fire-and-brimstone, yelling every sentence type sermon. (The pastor yelling in English is very quite funny, as he crechendo-decrechendos at the end of every sentence. "You must accept the Lord JEEEsus!") One of the "honoured visitors" has to give a short greeting and Bible reading, with translation from a pastor.

5: Food! The villagers get to feast, but we are served first. In India, being a good host is of vital importance socially, and serving food is 1a on the list. People bring you water to wash your hands, bottled water (it is common knowledge, I guess, that foreigners are too pansy to handle Indian tap water), and fill plates with food. They will continue to fill your plate once it becomes even remotely empty. This makes eating a tricky venture when visiting 4 or 5 villages in a day. It is rude to eat nothing, but downright gluttonous to eat a full meal every time. (I might have taken the eating challenge, if nor for my wanting to get back into shape. As well, it seems poor form to stuff yourself with food the villagers could otherwise eat.) And yes, it's the women who cook and serve food. A lot of them also work in the fields with the men. Tough girls.

6: "Playing" with the kids... they are shy at first, but once you approach them with a smile they can't get enough of the attention, though the only Englsh the little ones speak is "my name is". They take great pleasure in our attempts to pronounce their multisyllabic names. The magic of digital cameras lets us take pictures and then show them to the kids (and delete later if necessary). The kids get an unbelievable kick out of this and swarm you like happy puppies, smiling and laughing and shaking hands. I started taking flowers from the garlands and putting them in the hair of little girls. They smiled, put their hands to their faces, and beamed. It was great.

The younger women get in on the action too, waving their babies and asking to get their picture taken. They are so slight of build that I constantly worried that I would accidentally pat a mother on the head. Only the men stand back, polite and even friendly, but the young ones seem a little wary. Perhaps they want us to realize that it is THEIR women and children we are playing with.

7: Leaving, followed by waving, cheering throngs. It was bizarre, I felt like Angelina Jolie. Incidentally, the funnest part of the day was when I actually got to do something useful... Our driver got one of our 2 vehicles thoroughy mired in thick greasy mud. Since the villagers don't have cars and the pastors don't have mud, no one had the slightest idea what to do, so I got to more-or-less run the show. We roped the two vehicles together to pull the stuck one out, and the drivers almost blew out the engine on the first one. He gunned it hard, while the second driver did not bother to even turn the stuck vehicle on! A quick explanation of "drive forward with BOTH cars- and other people push" later, and we were on our way.


The villages are hard to describe in their awesomeness, so I will try to upload pics at some point. Small, crumbling houses, roofed with leaves, are surrounded by lush tropical greenery. The women and girls are dressed in bright colors, somehow keeping their Saris spotless. There are animals everywhere- manegy feral dogs looking for scraps, chickens nervously bickering in the dirt, a wobbly-legged calf chasing the chickens, and the placid water buffalo everywhere. These buffalo are more like cows than their savage African cousins, easily herded with the tap of a stick.

The sheer entusiasm of the villagers is mind-boggling. I am reminded that we generally equate "developing world" with "horrible suffering"... and certainly, suffering happens. If a villager can't get work, or his crops fail, food becomes immediately scarce. Many people can not afford medical treatment. After typing up the stories for many kids .I am acutely aware of what can go wrong. However, when things are going well, they seem perfectly content, even joyful, with their "simple" lives. Theu don't need a ton of stuff. They are thin but don't look starving. (Incidentally, most people here are naturally pretty small. It feels very strange to be tall for once. Those that eat to much get the amusing skinny-fat physique: narrow shoulders and a big belly.)

I was also impressed by how hard the children work. It is perfectly acceptable for an adult to ask a child- any child- to get him something, and the child obeys without question. However, the kids do not seem to be intimidated or bullied into doing it. They work with smiles on their faces, and it is clear that their parents (the vast majority, anyway) love them very much.

The only part I didn't like was being made to feel very soft. It feels very wussy to get treated like a king; sitting there getting fanned by a 10 year old girl is slightly rediculous. As is getting your feet washed by hand because they are muddy. As is getting asked "are you too hot? Do you need a rest?" after a 10 minute walk. I wanted to scream at the guy: "I used to carry trees up moutains in this weather! Am I made of freaking glass?"

As far as our doing any work? Apart from bringing joy from our glorious presence, well, yes, we are. We are writing a bunch of letters to sponsors, doing videotaping and scripting for promotional DVD's, and taking pictures of children for the files. Yesterday we went assembly line style through a hundred kids or so at a school: Line up, snap picture, next! The strategy of the Mission people is becoming clear, and it's a pretty good one: make us feel welcome, make us feel part of the work, so that we will want to support, and send more people to the mission in the future. Works for me.

Finally, I am speaking in the English service on Sunday. If you are the praying type, I would appreciate you offering up some on my behalf.

Pics chosen at Random

These were chosen completely at random, by clicking on unseen images. I'm sorry there are not more, but my computer is determined to prevent me from upoading pictures. Getting these on my blog was an hour's worth of work.

1) Spice vendors in a big market in Mumbai.
2) "No Utensils" is cultural! Eating Indian food in our hotel cell
3) cute kids at the children's home
4) palm trees from a rooftop
5) my sister at the enterance to a Hindu temple
6) drinking coconut milk in a village

India Report 3

I have a personality clash with Indian culture, I think. Not just the man-touching, which I wil refrain from mentioning, except right now. Indian hospitality (or at least that which I have experienced) is all about doting on one's guests, giving them your finiest food, drink and location, ensuring their comfort and giving them gifts. I feel uncomfortable without my own space, my own time, my own (as in, bought by only me) stuff. The fine food is amazing, of course, but it does wreak havoc with my plan to get back into wrestling shape. Ahh well, it is foolish to complain about being treated like a king. Especially in a place where so many have nothing. So I guess I will enjoy the lavish hospitality.

Today we went shopping, which I deplore. Specifically, we went Indian garb shopping. The way to the store was travelled by auto-Ricksaw, basically a cross between a golf cart and a tuna can. My mom wants me to mention that the streets are even crazier in an auto-Ricksaw- I entertained myself by touching the occasional bus as it went by. The Indian garb store, called "Venus" was populated by no less thast 11 workers, most of which rush to help you put on clothes (there is no privacy when changing... note to self, wear more underwear next time). The girls bought a bunch of Punjabi suits, and I got some sort of black-and-gold man-cloak. The grinning shopkeepers ensure me I look like a prince. I'm thinking "Haloween", but it really is a very nice man-dress.

I am- still- too tired to do written justice to the children's home. Also, I am kinda paranoid to write too much detail about someone who can easily read it.... for now, we live on a compound with a Reverend, his (older) family, some household helpers, and about 40 kids. The rest live in a seperate "children's home" which we will visit tomorrow. So far our work had not involved the kids directly; rather, we are helping to create DVD's and letters for present and potential sponsors, so more children can be adopted. The home has the space but not the money. A lot of our work involves transcribing "Indian" English into "Western" English... example: "so and so was menstruating constantly. Then God gave her a womb. She is now 9 months pregnant." beomes "So and so was unable to concieve for a long time, but now God has granted her a child".

Sorry about the lack of pictures, they were almost uploading but then my computer quit. Maybe next time.

India Report 2

"... two thousand pounds of education, falls to a ten rupee jezail (Afghan sniper rifle)"- Rudyard Kipling

"People go to India to learn great spiritual wisdom, but for some reason they don't see India, or what that belief system has done to those people over there. Karma, ugh!" - Frank Peretti

"If they just picked up all this trash sooo many more tourists would come"- my mom.

"Soap. You need soap. And I can see you are very sensitive. Are you a sensitive man?"- man on train.


A 24 h train ride is a lot of time to talk, think and read. I read a book called "the Afghan", a trash thriller with a technological and millitary (rather than political take on the War on Terror. The Kipling quote stuck in my head, mostly because of how cheap the rifle is. While you couldn't get a gun for ten rupees (30 cents) nowadays, but you certainly can get a lot for very little. Everything is dirt cheap in India. If you don't like the price, you can generally barter. There's always a ton of people trying to help you for tips as well- carry luggage, show you around, sell you things... We had 4 different kids come on board the train while it was stopped and offer to clean the floor with a rag cloth for money. It is most helpful if you are trying to get all your luggage onto the train, but most annoying if you only need to carry it 10 feet to a taxi.


Frank Peretti, a Christian writer who will never be accused of Political Correctness, blames the Hindu belief in karma for much of the suffering in India. He claims that the (now outlawed, but still widely practiced) Caste system, that places people in different social strata from birth, excuses the rich from helping the poor because "they earned it. That's your karma. If you are born to be a beggar you're meant to be a beggar." I don't know enough about Hinduism, Karma, or the Caste system to pass judgement.. however, we did have an endless conversation with a very nice gentleman on the train that scared me.

He imparted all his wisdom upon us, and while he certainly had some good things to say, his belief that you can discover someone's destiny and criminal nature from their hands and facial features was, to say the least, disconcerting. Someone should tell the FBI, would make their job a lot easier.. no, wait, did I just suggest racial profiling? The Peretti quote makes a lot of sense to me now. Anyway, a lot of the guy's credibility was lost when he "predicted" my age to be 21, AFTER being told my birth date. (I am 23). Also, his palm reading skills told him that I am a very sensitve man. My mom and sister actually went into convulsions of laughter upon hearing that. Oh yeah, and those destined to be poor have a certain feature on the top of their ear... don't remember if the "fortunate" have a flat or bulbous ear, but thanks to the magic of cauliflower earI now have one of each.. perhaps they will cancel each other out?

The third quote is in disgust at the incredibly disgusting streets of Mumbai. Filth everywhere. We went to a Hindu temple and a Mosque... inside they were clean, reverent, and filled with worshippers. Since it is considered disrespectful to wear shoes in the places of worship, "shoe guards" watch your shoes as you walk around. Outside the mosque/temple, beggars beg and mind-boggling mounds of trash accumumate. It's very strange to be a in a very devoutly religious country, where the majority if not Christian. Dunno yet quite what to make of it.

Our train ride was interesting to say the least. We sat 3 to a bench facing each other, facilitating the long conversation. At night time, we sleep 3 high, on bunk "benches" strapped to the wall. Because of our enormous amount of luggage (largely supplies for the children's home), positioning both ourselves and our stuff became quite an adventure. We got a good tongue-lashing from an irate 80-y-old, who eventually became quite friendly, and I had to sleep on a sack of random supplies, finding a soft comforable notch between a big tub of hand cream and a coathanger. My mom, in the bunk below, ticked my feet in her sleep. Twice. No, I don't know why.

Finally, I thought the man-holding-man-hand thing was wierd... much wierder when a man puts his hand on your inner thigh to talk to you. Takes some getting used to for sure. The grabbing of my belly was a bit too much.

We have arrived safe and happy at the children's home... but I will write about that after we have spent some time there and I have actual information. For now suffice to say the accomodations are very comfortable, the hosts are embarassingly gracious, their food is delicous and the children- dark, skinned, almond eyed and kind of shy- are adorable. And the people here don't own cows... they have WATER BUFFALO! Tame, domesticated water buffalo! How cool is that?

I realize as I am typing that my writing sucks today. I am sorry. I am very tired. But good tired.

Jens