My first few days in Chennai, India have been incredible and miraculous. I arrived at 12 am, feeling like it was noon, and was picked up from the airport by a nice man named Mani (pronounced "Money") who drove me to the place we are staying. I asked him all kinds of questions as we drove, and understood about half the answers. Our gleaned from what I understood that in India, 60 percent of the marriages are arranged by the parents and 40 percent are "love marriages."
My roommate is a nice 21 year-old from Georgia (the state) with Indian parentage. His name is Amit. He is very chill and easy-going and we have had a lot of fun adventures together already.
Sunday came quickly, and I asked the doctor overseeing us if I could go to church nearby. He agreed, and gave me the address of the inner-city camp I needed to catch up with the others at afterward. I am SO glad I mustered the courage to ask for this hour off to visit the Saints of Chennai and to renew my covenants; some sweet tender mercies came from it.
#1. Mathura (another indian girl from Montreal who is volunteering with us; it is just us three and I am the only white guy I have see really since I have been here, with the exception of one american missionary in the branch) talked in Tamil (aka gibberish) to the cab driver who was taking me to church and sent me on my way with a cell phone and a prayer in my heart. In the cab and on the back were about 6 other people, some holding bibles in their laps on top of their colorful scarves, all headed to church or work or elsewhere. As I sat there feeling excited and confident but realizing I could quickly get COMPLETELY lost, a girl who spoke good english sat down next to me. I couldn't pronounce or remember her name, but she was an angel set to guide me. She looked at the address I had written down and offered to take me there. We got off the cab at the right place, she paid for me (an unnecessary gesture) and we walked for a LONG time down endless backroads, passing exotic plants and lots people, trash, cows, and dogs. As we walked, I asked her about her life. She is 20 years old; her parents both died 2 years ago. She is working in a call center and looking for a good paying job so she can study hard and become an engineer. She asked several people for directions and we finally found the place. I NEVER would have found it alone. She started to walk away, without expecting anything in return. I gave her 40 rupees of gratitude, which she accepted very thankfully and surprisedly. I realized to my shame as I climbed the stairs that I had just given her 80 cents, which can go a pretty long way in India, but still was unworthy of my gratitude.
#2. Church was a wonderful experience. There were about 70 faithful indian saints all gathered together. They spoke english, and one of the speakers translated what he had just said into Tamil. They spoke on the importance and blessings of service, and choosing to be of good cheer in the midst of adversity. These same topics recur frequently in my home YSA ward, but somehow they took on a new meaning when they were spoken by these people. My adversities are "I am busy and I don't have a wife." Their adversities are "I am hungry and I don't have a job." But amazingly, Christ blesses and fills our inner needs in both circumstances and teaches us to be stronger than them. We sang "count your many blessings" as a closing hymn and I got ready to venture out into the world to find the eye camp my friends were at. But I was intercepted by 10 million members, some of the most friendly and kind people I have ever met. Everyone was instantly my friend. They found me a ride on the back of the district president's son's scooter. We navigated the CRAZY roads of Chennai with the one helmet he had. Mom, I won't tell you who wore it, just look up Shroedinger's cat theory and rest assured that we probably both wore it. :)
As we drove he told me how about 8 years ago, his mom was sick. His aunt said she would bring some brother from the church to give her a blessing. They didn't know what church it was. Two missionaries came and gave her a blessing. Afterwards, his older brother said, "How can I become like you men? I want to become exactly like you." The family was soon baptized, and the older son served a faithful mission. My scooter driver had finished his necessary schooling, was 22 years old, and was preparing to serve in the northern India mission this fall. He said it has been his desire ever since baptism. I asked him about arranged marriage in the church, and he said that in the church they have love marriages, and in India the culture is changing and tending toward this new love style.
After getting lost a few times, we arrived at the camp and I was happy and grateful the Lord kept track of a little american boy in a very big city.
A quote from church sums up my experience: "God does notice us, and he watches over us; but it is usually thru others that he answers our prayers. It is therefore imperative that we serve one another."
I apparently came just in time, because the man who owns the slum we set up camp in was a bit put out. He said that other groups brought better equipment and referred less people to the hospital then we do, and that we weren't giving out enough pairs of eyeglasses. (This is due strictly to the needs of the people; some need prescription instead of reading glasses. The fact that I was white was a saving grace for the camp. He happily had me sign his log book and took lots of pictures together. I said, "I'm not a doctor!" and he said, "Sign, "Peter, American Student" and your address in America." He was a sweet guy and bought us all a spicy meal eaten off of a giant banana leaf, with our fingers, after the camp was finished. We were able to see a lot of people and distribute a great deal of glasses. We also made some fun memories with the darling little kids. Because of the language barrier, I contribute little. Mostly I just point to letters on the eye chart, and play with the kids. Paper airplanes and origami boxes have been a big hit. They taught me to count to ten in Tamil.
I love India. I love Indian people. They are so good, so humble, and so easy to fall in love with.
My roommate is a nice 21 year-old from Georgia (the state) with Indian parentage. His name is Amit. He is very chill and easy-going and we have had a lot of fun adventures together already.
Sunday came quickly, and I asked the doctor overseeing us if I could go to church nearby. He agreed, and gave me the address of the inner-city camp I needed to catch up with the others at afterward. I am SO glad I mustered the courage to ask for this hour off to visit the Saints of Chennai and to renew my covenants; some sweet tender mercies came from it.
#1. Mathura (another indian girl from Montreal who is volunteering with us; it is just us three and I am the only white guy I have see really since I have been here, with the exception of one american missionary in the branch) talked in Tamil (aka gibberish) to the cab driver who was taking me to church and sent me on my way with a cell phone and a prayer in my heart. In the cab and on the back were about 6 other people, some holding bibles in their laps on top of their colorful scarves, all headed to church or work or elsewhere. As I sat there feeling excited and confident but realizing I could quickly get COMPLETELY lost, a girl who spoke good english sat down next to me. I couldn't pronounce or remember her name, but she was an angel set to guide me. She looked at the address I had written down and offered to take me there. We got off the cab at the right place, she paid for me (an unnecessary gesture) and we walked for a LONG time down endless backroads, passing exotic plants and lots people, trash, cows, and dogs. As we walked, I asked her about her life. She is 20 years old; her parents both died 2 years ago. She is working in a call center and looking for a good paying job so she can study hard and become an engineer. She asked several people for directions and we finally found the place. I NEVER would have found it alone. She started to walk away, without expecting anything in return. I gave her 40 rupees of gratitude, which she accepted very thankfully and surprisedly. I realized to my shame as I climbed the stairs that I had just given her 80 cents, which can go a pretty long way in India, but still was unworthy of my gratitude.
#2. Church was a wonderful experience. There were about 70 faithful indian saints all gathered together. They spoke english, and one of the speakers translated what he had just said into Tamil. They spoke on the importance and blessings of service, and choosing to be of good cheer in the midst of adversity. These same topics recur frequently in my home YSA ward, but somehow they took on a new meaning when they were spoken by these people. My adversities are "I am busy and I don't have a wife." Their adversities are "I am hungry and I don't have a job." But amazingly, Christ blesses and fills our inner needs in both circumstances and teaches us to be stronger than them. We sang "count your many blessings" as a closing hymn and I got ready to venture out into the world to find the eye camp my friends were at. But I was intercepted by 10 million members, some of the most friendly and kind people I have ever met. Everyone was instantly my friend. They found me a ride on the back of the district president's son's scooter. We navigated the CRAZY roads of Chennai with the one helmet he had. Mom, I won't tell you who wore it, just look up Shroedinger's cat theory and rest assured that we probably both wore it. :)
As we drove he told me how about 8 years ago, his mom was sick. His aunt said she would bring some brother from the church to give her a blessing. They didn't know what church it was. Two missionaries came and gave her a blessing. Afterwards, his older brother said, "How can I become like you men? I want to become exactly like you." The family was soon baptized, and the older son served a faithful mission. My scooter driver had finished his necessary schooling, was 22 years old, and was preparing to serve in the northern India mission this fall. He said it has been his desire ever since baptism. I asked him about arranged marriage in the church, and he said that in the church they have love marriages, and in India the culture is changing and tending toward this new love style.
After getting lost a few times, we arrived at the camp and I was happy and grateful the Lord kept track of a little american boy in a very big city.
A quote from church sums up my experience: "God does notice us, and he watches over us; but it is usually thru others that he answers our prayers. It is therefore imperative that we serve one another."
I apparently came just in time, because the man who owns the slum we set up camp in was a bit put out. He said that other groups brought better equipment and referred less people to the hospital then we do, and that we weren't giving out enough pairs of eyeglasses. (This is due strictly to the needs of the people; some need prescription instead of reading glasses. The fact that I was white was a saving grace for the camp. He happily had me sign his log book and took lots of pictures together. I said, "I'm not a doctor!" and he said, "Sign, "Peter, American Student" and your address in America." He was a sweet guy and bought us all a spicy meal eaten off of a giant banana leaf, with our fingers, after the camp was finished. We were able to see a lot of people and distribute a great deal of glasses. We also made some fun memories with the darling little kids. Because of the language barrier, I contribute little. Mostly I just point to letters on the eye chart, and play with the kids. Paper airplanes and origami boxes have been a big hit. They taught me to count to ten in Tamil.
I love India. I love Indian people. They are so good, so humble, and so easy to fall in love with.
Dad says watch out, you'll end up marrying one. And it might be arranged by him! :) Love you, dear son! xoxo, Mom
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