This is India

My India

(A powerful poem about India)

Not where the musk of happiness blows,

Not where darkness and fears never tread;

Not in the homes of perpetual smiles,

Nor in the heaven of a land of prosperity

Would I be born

If I must put on mortal garb once more.

Dread famine may prowl and tear my flesh,

Yet would I love to be again

In my Hindustan.

A million thieves of disease

May try to steal the body's fleeting health;

and clouds of fate

May shower scalding drops of searing sorrow -

Yet would I be there, in India,

Love to reappear!

Is this love of mine blind sentiment

That sees not the pathways of reason?

Ah, no! I love India,

For there I learned first to love God

and all things beautiful.

Some teach to seize the fickle dewdrop, life,

Sliding down the lotus leaf of time;

Stubborn hopes are built

Around the gilded, brittle body-bubble.

But India taught me to love

The soul of deathless beauty in the dewdrop

and the bubble -

Not their fragile frames.

her sages taught me to find my Self,

Buried beneath the ash heaps

Of incarnations of ignorance.

Though man a land of power, plenty, and science

My soul, garbed sometimes as an Oriental,

Sometimes as an Occidental,

Travelled far and wide,

Seeking Itself;

At last, in India, to find Itself.

Though mortal fires raze all her homes

and golden paddy fields,

Yet to sleep on her ashes and dream immortality,

O India, I will be there!

The guns of science and matter

Have boomed on her shores

yet she is unconqured.

Her soul is free evermore!

Her soldier saints are away,

To rout with realization's ray

The bandits of hate, prejudice, and patriotic selfishness;

And to burn the walls of separation dark

Between children of the One, One Father.

The Western brothers by matter's might

have conquered my land;

Blow, blow aloud, her conch shells all!

India now invades with love,

To conquer their souls.

Better than Heaven or Arcadia

I love Thee, O my India!

And thy love I shall give

To every brother nation that lives.

God made the earth;

Man made confining countries

And their fancy-frozen boundaries.

But with newfound boundless love

I behold the borderland of my India

Expanding into the world.

Hail, mother of religions, lotus, scenic beauty,

And sages!

They wide doors are open,

Welcoming God's true sons through all ages.

Where Ganges, woods, Himalayan caves, and men dream God -

I am hallowed; my body touched that sod.

Swami Yogananda Paramhansa

Sweet, sweet home.

Back home. Back to my sweet, sweet home.
It feels strange and comfortable at the same time.
I put so much behind me when I left two weeks ago, and I have come back to this exact same place- or is it the exact same place? Everything has changed. At the same time, nothing has changed. There is so much to process through. So many mixed feelings, emotions, and thoughts. So many things to do and to take care of.

I've met a new version of myself in India, and I don't want to lose my sight of her again. And I don't want to leave India behind me either, just because the trip is over. Even though it was only twelve days I was physically a part of India, I won't let that be the end of my journey. I want to live in India a little everyday.

Aw, I have a letter waiting for me in my inbox. The one I've been hoping for.
I guess I am home.

Belgian Waffles

Chocolate chip cookies from Chokola, an Indian chocolate company. Unique and delicious.

Bought Margaret Atwood's pretty version of Moral Disorder and Belgian Waffles at the Brussels airport! Exciting. :)

A Brief Debrief

We had a short debrief session before we got on to the plane at the Dehli Airport. Everyone was so tired and exhausted after long restless days of ministry, tours and traveling, but I was probably at my most livliest state after three days of sleeping and sweating out my pharyngitis. Pastor James took us through a brief session of debriefing, and I was actually very challenged because I realized what I do once I go back is arguably even more important than what I have done during the trip. So here are some notes that I took:

- Being on a mission trip, our identity is somewhat changed. Going back home means confronting our old identities and we enter into our old cultures.
- As we go home, we are transitioning from being surrounded by a community to being by ourselves.
- We may be inspired by how people live, worship and serve in India because it is so different, but we shouldn't feel prideful about what we have seen or how we have changed. Instead, we must recognize that we come from a different context.

- There are three different types of PMS (Post-Missions Syndrome):

1. Assimilation : Adjusting back so well that one forgets about the missions

2. Alienation: Feeling isolated from surroundings and having a hard time adjusting back.
3. Integration: Having a balance between assimilation and alienation.

- Tips on becoming an Integrator:

1. Try not to bring closure to the trip, but make it an extension of missional life.
2. Confront something you need to change.
3. Set aside time after the trip to reflect and spend time with God.

- Things to ponder upon:
1. What expectations do we have upon coming back?
2. How do I need to readjust?
3. What do we want to share most about the trip when we go back?

- Continue to pray for the people that we met.
- You will get sick of people asking you how the trip was, but learn to tell your story. sharing what God is doing in India is important because people in India don't have a voice.

On My Way

Jaipur - Dehli - Brussels - Toronto.
We're so close...

Listening to: On My Way- Phil Collins.
(Yes, I listened to the Disney radio channel on the airplane...)

Tell everybody I'm on my way
I just can't wait to be there
with blue skies ahead, Yes I'm on my way
and nothing but good times to share.

So tell everybody I'm on my way
and I just can't wait to be home
with the sun beating down, yes, I'm on my way
and nothing but good times to show

Yes, I'm on my way :)

Shoeshiner boy

While Elder John and I were waiting outside the shops for the team to finish up their souvenir hunting, a shoeshiner boy approached us. He wanted to shine Elder John and my shoes, even though EJ was wearing an old pair of rugged sandals and I was wearing a pair of Old Navy flipflops. He took a long time to shine them even though there wasn't much to clean, so we got a chance to talk to him and get to know him a little bit. He was so dilligent and hard working, I could tell. He said he works from 10am to 5-6 pm everyday, cleaning shoes. Caste system still prevails in India, which means that shoe shining is the only career option for this boy. His eyes were similar to that of a mature adult and he seemed to understand the world far better than me in some ways. He definitely made an impression that he was different from many that we ran into in the streets of Jaipur or Dehli. He was persistent but unforceful, and he seemed reposed yet ernest. There wasn't anything else I could offer other than money, so we gave him the gospel bracelet that I was wearing as we said goodbye to him. He went off to find another customer with his tool box, humming.