The Joy of Serving

It’s Monday 8:30 PM.  I’ll be hitting the sack early tonight.  Tomorrow Sharon and I have another LONG day of travel ahead of us; actually 31 hours.  That’s how long it will take us to fly from Portland, OR to Chennai, India.  It can be grueling and expensive.

So, why do we do it?  There’s a husband and wife there we want to meet.  We have been emailing them for months to arrange our visit.  They are a very special couple in India.  They rescue baby girls who face an unjust death sentence.  Babies whose parents have decided to murder them for being girls instead of boys.

It’s difficult for westerners to understand that some people in India don’t see the wrong in doing this.  And I do mean some people because it’s by no means the majority who think that way.  Even so, in the last couple decades it’s estimated that there were millions of girls murdered in India, either as infants or as fetuses.

When I heard about this during my first trip there I asked who or what organization is working to save them.  They don’t have a chance on their own.  Surprizingly, no one I asked knew.

So I began to pray that God would lead me to them, and after 2 more years I found this couple.  And now we get to meet them.

I’m a little nervous about it, since I don’t have our visit all planned out like some experienced planner of such things.  I just feel led to go there.  Then we’ll se what God makes of it.

I continue to thank God for teaching me that there is great joy in serving Him.

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As far as international jet setting goes, both Sharon and I are real novices, and so still somewhat insecure going through customs, immigrations, etc.  True, this was my third trip to India (and Sharon’s second).  But the hassles and confusions at airports of my first two were such that I still refer to them occasionally when bragging rights are in order; kind of like comparing battle scars with friends.  So, when the people from The Airlines told us they wouldn’t allow us to board our connecting flight to Amsterdam, I not only felt anger and dismay, I also felt helpless, powerless and lost about what to do next.

In this last regard, however, the Airlines Officials knew just the thing for us: no problem! we simply call our travel agent and book another flight.  While you’re at it, call a hotel too ‘cause you’re gonna need it, since there won’t be another flight until tomorrow night.  Oh, you don’t have a car and driver to get to a hotel?  You’ll need to talk to someone about that, too, to get a pedicab.  Uh, too much baggage for a pedicab I see.  Well, you’ll need a taxi, then, although they’re considerably more expensive.  Us pay?  Don’t be silly.

The preceding, in a nutshell, pretty much sums up the overall attitude of the Airlines Officials towards Sharon and I and the rest of us that they left stranded in Delhi.  Having to get our own hotel would have been a somewhat costly insult.  But booking another flight on our own would have cost us over $1600.00 alone!  Needless to say, this did not go down well.

Banding and Bonding

During the time I was trying to come to grips with all the ramifications of our new situation it occured to me that at some point an argument had ensued, and now the shouts were starting to cut through the fog in my head.  It seems that Raji (have I still not told you about Raji) was apparently a more experienced traveler.  Being somewhat more sure of herself than I, she was not about to stand for their version of a solution.  As I listened to the argument other voices began to chime in (there were nine of us altogether who were missing this connection).

Sharon and I didn’t really participate in the argument but more or less hung around it all, offering moral support to our side, so to speak.  Those doing the arguing were directing all their energy towards an apparent Airline Official.  It should be pointed out here that there were 3 different airlines and, in our case at least, one travel agency involved in this whole mixup*.  I had no idea which this particular official worked for.  But, since he was standing there taking all this, he must be guilty.

I know I tend to drag some of my stories out a long ways sometimes.  This time I’ll not bore you with more detail than is needed (have I done that already?).  What it amounted to was Raji, her brother Sridar, a couple whose names were Arvand and Iradna, and two other men basically would not stop ranting and arguing and threatening legal action (yes, legal action.  You see, the tide was turning.  It seems that Iradna was an attorney; even associated with a firm in Delhi I think I overheard).  At one point Iradna left the hallway where we had the official cornered, to make a private cell phone call.  Leaving was quite a wasted effort.  Everyone in the vicinity could hear her almost screaming at someone on the other end of the line.  I hope that person was at least guilty, too.  Our group effort eventually began yielding some results, however, and after some time the Airline Officials began to soften their stance.

In the end, we never did get on that flight to Amsterdam that night (did I say night?  by now it was almost 2 AM!).  But because of, shall we say persistence, on the part of these more worldly people we had banded together with, the best of a bad situation seems to have been made.  The airlines did rebook our flights for free (whew), they put us all up in a nice “4-Star Hotel” in Delhi for the night, with breakfast in the morning included (by the time we will have finally made it to the hotel, though, it will be 4 AM).

Getting from the airport to the “4-Star Hotel” turned out to be a misadventure in itself (this stuff never ends; I want to sleep!).  There was a new Airline Official out in the parking lot where we all awaited our transportation.  He had been responsible for arranging the shuttle to take all of us, and our considerable baggage, to the hotel.  When I asked this young Indian man his name, he answered, “Warren” (right!)  Now, spacial concepts were apparently not Warren’s strong point.  When the “shuttle” showed up, it was actually 2 very small cars, somewhat larger than one of those Smart Cars we see here.  Here it was, about 2:30 AM.  By now, we have all been wasted and bedraggled for some time.  We’re all looking forward to some rest in this “4-Star Hotel”.  We can’t wait to get some sleep.  Well, we all looked at those 2 little cars . . .then looked at each other, then at all our baggage, and you could sense all our eyes rolling at the same time.  I do not think you could have fitted all of us and our luggage in 6 of those cars.  The couple, Arvand and Iradna must have had 11 or 12 bags themselves!  Well, by unspoken agreement, Raji, Sridar and their mother (who wasn’t well) left in one car, and the other two guys in the other.  This only left Sharon and I, and Arvand and Iradna standing in the, now cold, night hoping that 2 more cars like that didn’t show up again, since there would not be room for all people and baggage.

About this time Arvand really started to come unglued.  He, rightfully, demanded that Warren get on his cell phone and immediately arrange for some appropriate transportation for the rest of us, strongly suggesting he account for all our luggage this time.  Warren argued he had already made adequate arrangements, although when asked what those were it seemed he couldn’t speak much English anymore.  We just wanted to be sure that the next transportation that arrived wouldn’t leave with any more of us still standing there.

At times like these it’s important to keep in contact with people like Warren until the last moment when you get handed off to the next person who will be responsible for your best interests, in this case the “4-Star Hotel” shuttle driver.  And since the shuttle wasn’t there yet we had no intention of letting Warren out of our sight.  But it was a big parking lot, and there were only 4 of us now so we couldn’t exactly corner him as we had done to his coworker.  This must have finally occurred to Warren, too, for presently he made the lame claim that the battery in his cell phone was now dead.  He would have to go get another one, but he would return shortly.  We never saw Warren again.

It was getting noticeably colder and we waited for probably another 20 minutes before our shuttle finally arrived.  Praise the Lord! it was large enough to get us all out of there.  At long last we were on our way to getting some sleep.

A half hour later we did arrive at the hotel.  As we suspected, it was far from rating 4 stars.  But I think even the Airline Officials knew by the time we got here we would only care about mattress and pillows.

The stress and strain had Sharon and I keyed up, and worn out at the same time.  Next flight wasn’t until 11 PM that night.  We would have done well to have slept most of the time before the shuttle was due to take us back to the airport.  There was just one little problem with that plan.  That free breakfast!  We had to get up by 9, or so to have time to clean up and get over to the restaurant for that.  That meant only about 5 hours of sleep for us, who had just gone through a very harrowing 20 hours.  But, get up, we did.  For all that we and the rest of our band of friends had gone through to squeeze concessions out of that turnip of an airline official, Sharon and I were not about to leave that breakfast on the table J

Much Later

So, we did finally make it home, and without further incident, albeit with some more “battle scars” to brag about.

This return trip from India was a trying experience, but I do not blame India.  We had a really wonderful time there.  I love India.  I love the people of India that I have met (well, as a Christian, I am trying to love those Airline Officials).  I especially love the children in India.  Nothing that happened with those airlines would make me shy away from going there again.  The hotel wouldn’t rate 4 stars here in the US, but I will say their staff was not only friendly and helpful, but I believe I actually sensed empathy for us.

And looking at the positive side, which I do more of it seems since I became a Christian, I met some really neat people only because of these problems with the airlines.  Raji suggested all of us band together.  We ended up doing a lot of chatting with her and her brother, Sridar.  Their mother was with them, also.  Although she spoke little, or no, English she knew when she was being introduced and responded with a very kind nod and smile.  I don’t remember all of their names, but we had some very enjoyable conversations during layovers.  I wish them all well and hope to cross paths with them again sometime.

Flyer Beware

So, why have I told you all of this?  I think a good thing to keep in mind in the future is this: the airlines, or the travel agencies make mistakes, too.  They just don’t expect to have to pay for them.  So check for problems with itineraries they offer before you make your choice.  There may be serious consequences.

In our case, the mistake they made was to have an itinerary to choose from which was inherently flawed.  It only allowed 2 hours and 40 minutes after landing in Delhi to connect to the flight to Amsterdam.  The airline industry routinely nowadays suggests, or requires 3 hours time for international flights.  But, when booking our flights I wasn’t on the lookout for itineraries that had built-in problems, who would?  What with the delay in our flight from Hyderabad even a 3 hour margin might not have been enough.  But the point is that the Airline Officials seemed to have chosen to use their own flawed itinerary as their own way out, telling us it wasn’t their responsibility since we didn’t arrive with the required 3 hours to spare.  Lucky for us the resulting argument eventually became a battle of wits.  In this arena the Airline Officials were simply outclassed.

Mike

*Airlines involved: Northwest Airlines, KLM and Kingfisher

  Travel Agency: Expedia Travel

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Well, we left Hyderabad yesterday to begin the long journey home from India.  Our plane was scheduled to leave at 9 PM, arriving at Delhi at 11:00 PM, so we arrived at the airport just after 6, plenty of time since the brand new, and very nice and modern Rajiv Gandhi International Airport wasn’t particularly crowded.  We fairly breezed through check in, luggage check and security.  Things were shaping up to be a pleasant traveling experience.  We had to walk a little distance to our gate, but we had plenty of time.

When we arrived at Gate 25B we still had a comfortable 2 hours to wait until departure.  Now, you may be thinking to yourself, “This guy’s crazy to think a 2 hour wait is comfortable”, and you might be right.  All I can say is I’m not yet a seasoned traveler, and I don’t like to worry, and since I can’t stand the thought of missing a flight and having to go through all the hassle of rebooking for a new itinerary, especially at my own expense, a 2-hour wait was worth it all.  Besides, I think airports are exciting places.  Now I had a chance to relax and have a cup of airport mochachino (not too bad stuff.  But much wimpier than Starbucks) and talk with Sharon about the wonderful India experience we had enjoyed for the last 2 weeks.

First hint of things going awry:

There is a nice big flat-screen monitor behind the Kingfisher Airlines desk at Gate 25B.  We were seated in the front row with an unobstructed view of it to keep updated regarding our flight status (we travel nerds were the only ones there for almost an hour).  As the time drew nearer and various other flights departed, eventually flight 3803 to Delhi made it to the “big screen”.  For about the next 45 minutes all looked well.  Then one time I blinked and realized some numbers had changed.  The EDT of 9:00 PM which used to match the SCD suddenly had changed to 9:30.  OK, no big deal, this happens all the time.  The only thing that concerned me was we had been advised to check in at least 3 hours prior to departure in Delhi for the international flight to Amsterdam.  Well, I figured they really didn’t need that much time but just preferred it since it would just make their jobs easier.  Problem was Northwest Airlines had never exactly taken into account that procedure when they arranged the itinerary in the first place.  Instead, we were scheduled to arrive with a 2:40 layover.  Now we would be down to 2:10; arriving at 11:30 PM and connecting to the 1:40 AM flight out to Amsterdam. . .still very doable, though.

Well, the Kingfisher flight didn’t actually depart until a little after 10 PM so, as it turned out we were somewhat later than that.  The little bit of good news was that we apparently had a significant tail wind and were able to reclaim about 15 minutes.  We touched down in Delhi at 11:50.  After a taxi to the terminal that seemed it would never end, the plane came to a stop and it seemed we would be OK, even though it was now well after midnight.

However, we remained stuck in the plane for some time because, as they announced, they were “having some technical difficulties with the loading ramp”.  This didn’t last too long, however, maybe 5 minutes, and we off-loaded.

Next hint:

I had been to Delhi once before, 2 years ago.  I remember it was a hair-raising experience with all the hustle and bustle, the masses of people, some trying to get to the gates on time, some trying to claim their baggage, some trying to claim your baggage so they could charge you rupees to carry it all out to whatever transportation you might have waiting (if you don’t have transportation they will be happy to hail you a pedicab, and then ask for more rupees for that service, too).  What I failed to remember was that there are actually two airports, one for domestic and another for international flights.  How this ever evolved, I don’t know.  The important thing to know is that the international airport is a long ways from the domestic one.  So, it means that, after landing in Delhi we had to claim our baggage, go through a passport check, then get outside to catch a shuttle which would, then, take us to that other airport.

We thought we really had it made when we walked through to door to the terminal and were immediately met by a Kingfisher Airlines representative who must have been alerted to the fact that some passengers were at risk of missing their connecting flight because of Kingfisher’s delay.  He took us under his wing J and guided us to baggage claim, retrieved our baggage from the carousel, carefully stacking it on a cart, then led us to the next stop where our itineraries and passports were rechecked.  He then pointed us to a security gate where they were checked again as we passed through on our way to the shuttle, and were gratefully the first passengers to have our baggage loaded up for the trip to International.  We boarded the bus and got primo seating, although it was increasingly difficult to appreciate such niceties as each minute passed.  And pass they did as they waited and waited for more and more passengers to board.  But eventually the shuttle got underway.

It was during this shuttle ride that I realized how ridiculously far away from each other these two airports were that were no doubt collectively thought of as one by most people who had never been there.  The shuttle lumbered along for a good 20 to 25 minutes to get to its destination.  At one point we could finally see parked airplanes again and our hopes began to rise of catching our flight.  By this time I didn’t even want to know what time it was.  Then, suddenly, we came to a stop and you could almost hear 20 or 30 pairs of shoulders slump.  It seems there was a plane taxiing by.  Obviously he had the right-of-way.  But I think we could have driven back and forth in his path 4 or 5 times in the time it took him to pass by where we were.

The rest of this creep-along shuttle ride was just sheer frustration for us, like losing a football game while watching the winning team calmly eat up the clock.  When we finally reached the international airport and came to a stop we hopped out as soon as we could.  It was then we realized our mistake.  We and our baggage were the first ones on the shuttle.  So, although we were among the first to get off, all the late-comers’ luggage was on top of ours.  We ended up having to watch while, one after another, the other passengers grabbed their baggage and raced off  to the terminal.  We probably lost less than 5 minutes because of this snafu, but it seemed like three times that.

Final hint:

Now, I sometimes think I am a jinx.  I remember on our return flight from India last year landing and going through all the customs stuff (was it in Seattle?) while in a big hurry.  There were several long, slow lines of people going through check stations where guards carefully verified each person’s passport, etc.  At long last Sharon and I got to the front of our line.  Just as I handed the guard my passport all the computers there suddenly went off-line.  All the guards at all the stations began fiddling with their keyboards.  Time passed and nothing was resolved.  The guards continued fiddling, and the crowd began fidgeting.

Finally “our guard” said, “I’ll be right back” and left the scene. . .with my passport still in hand!  He was gone an awfully long time, I’m certain it was at least twenty minutes.  I began to worry he may have gone off shift, forgetting he still had my passport.  What if another guard suddenly appeared to take his place and asked me for my passport?

But, mercifully, he returned; not that the computers were fixed.

I think we must have stood at the very front of that line for close to 40 minutes before some sort of decision-making person arrived at the scene.  He spoke quietly to each guard down the line.  Then, as he left, the guards announced to the bedraggled crowd that all US nationals would be allowed to pass through without a computer check.  I pitied the foreigners, but breathed a huge sigh of relief for Sharon and myself.  And so we finally made it home that day.

Now, back to today, in Delhi.  Another long, slow line of people.  Another guard at the doorway.  Stay with me here, this is really good.  Everyone is being processed through into the terminal “surely, but slowly”.  I can almost see the KLM check in counter through the big glass walls and doors of the terminal building.  Time is flying by, but there is still hope.  If we can get through this checkpoint without a hitch and race over to check-in we’ll have it made.

Now we’re at the front of the line.  The guard holds his hand out for my passport.  I reach toward him and hand it over.  Then the unthinkable happens!  Behind the guard a lady who had been processed through the doorway and into the weatherfront of the building was guiding her cart full of luggage through the next set of sliding glass doors.  For some reason her cart lurches to a stop halfway through the glass doorway.  Can you see where this is going?  Yes, the automatic door opener thinks she has gone through and promptly closes the glass door.  The edge of the heavy glass door slams into the steel cart and immediately disintegrates into many thousands of little glittering pieces all over the place.

I might have liked to see the look on the guard’s face but I was too busy being dumbfounded at this turn of events.  I mean, what were the odds?  What else could go wrong?

Sharon and I actually felt sorry for the poor woman.  She surely must have been embarrassed, and maybe even a little worried about the response of the many armed security personnel.

Well, our guard quickly turned at all the noise and commotion behind him, walked over to get a closer look at the damage (it was only 8 feet away) and seemingly mulled through the meaning of this new development, all the while with my passport in his hand.  If it had all happened 2 seconds sooner I would have still had custody of my passport and been able to switch over to the next line.  I would have been at the end of it, but with hope, even if it was withering by now.

There was nothing we could do but wait until the guard finished shaking his head, turned and walked back to us and continued to do his job of checking us through.  Then, when he finally had finished he told us we had to go through the next doorway since there was glass all over in this one; this new doorway being the one I would have like to switched over to if I had my passport before.  You guessed it, we were now at the end of the line again.  And when we got to the front of this line the new guard also had to make sure our papers were in order since he didn’t know the first one had already done it.  What could be worse???

I will tell you what could be worse.  When we finally made it into the terminal and scrambled to section G (we had, earlier, been informed that the KLM check-in counters we located in section G) there simply were no KLM check-in counters to be seen.  When asked, a helpful woman at the, now China Air check-in counter, informed us that all KLM counters are now closedL.

It was about this time that Raji, (didn’t I tell you about Raji?) passed us in the terminal.  I think the look on our faces must have been about the same as on hers.  She looked at us and shook her head saying, “It’s too late.  They won’t let us on”.  I will tell you that this plane was still on the ground!, and wasn’t scheduled to leave for another 40 minutes, but they wouldn’t let us board.

Now, you may think that this is the end of the story.  What more could possibly go wrong?  After all, you already know that in spite of all we went through to make it on time, we ultimately failed to win the race.  But, as it turns out, there is still a lot more.

Anyway, here we sit, in a hotel in Delhi.  Tomorrow is another day, another race.  When we finally do make it home, and when I can collect my thoughts I will tell you, as the saying goes, “The rest of the story!”

 Mike

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It’s 8:30 PM on January 31.  We are now happy guests of Dahno and Susilee Reddy in Peddapalli, and since they have good Internet access I can report to you that the feast at the orphanage was a great success.  I also may have a rare opportunity to include a picture.

We had probably 10, or more different vegetables (I don’t know what they were), apples, a special rice and mutton; all of these in good quantities except the cake, which barely made it.  It was decided to have mutton instead of chicken because it is considered a more special dish.  The rice was referred to as “fine rice”.  It is used at the hostel only for festive occasions.  It is assumed that as soon as the kids saw it they knew something was up.  The cake had been kept out of sight until after the dinner.

Sharon and I had walked into town the day before and ordered the large cake from the bakery; big enough to serve 250 kids.  We picked it up yesterday, the day of the feast, and brought it to the hostel.  It was really beautifully done and ended up being just the right size.

Before the food was served there was much singing and dancing, some of it done with Sharon and Jan included.  Everyone had a good time.

The dancing, by the way, was beautiful.  Several of the girls, about 10 years old performed a couple dances that seemed to be telling a story.  They did such a good job and were, I thought, very expressive.  One part also included that head movement where it shifts from side to side while at the same time keeping perfectly level.  I don’t know how they do that.  I can’t even grab my head in my hands and make it do it.  I video recorded it but it was fairly dark at the time, so the playback is a little hard to see.

Jan 31:

This morning we had to say “good-bye” to the children at the orphanage.  It was time to head out to Peddipalli.  One of the girls who had been in the orphanage and grown up there was now recently married and moved away.  We planned to meet her and her husband there and visit for a few hours.  Then we would head over to the Reddy’s.

By “heading over” I mean call ahead for a couple pedicabs to pick us and all our many suitcases up and haul us over there (it must really be great to be a seasoned traveler and literally travel light).  Pedicabs are the ubiquitous taxis of India.  If you ever come here you really must try one.  In all honesty we enjoy riding in them, if we are not in the monsoon season; they have no windows, or even doors!  So, with each pedicab stuffed with as much suitcases and people as we could work out, we headed off.

February 1:

We have had another good night’s sleep.  This morning we both enjoyed hot showers.  Sharon and I are staying in the Reddy’s “guest house”.  This is quite a bit like a hotel room, but I understand it is owned by the company Mr. Reddy works for, and is used when the employees have guests that they have not room for in their own house.  It’s quite comfortable, including a bed with a very firm mattress which both Sharon and I find very restful.

Shortly we will head outdoors for the short walk to their house to join them and Roger and Jan for breakfast before heading over for church.

The time is going so fast. We are already half done with our trip.  I feel like a kid who doesn’t want the family vacation to end.  I love India.  There are so many things to enjoy.  It is not the same as having “fun” like vacations when I was a child.  One could probably write a book on such differences.  Maybe someone has.  At any rate, I would take this over a fun vacation anyday.

More later.

Mike

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2:26 AM local time.

Sitting in Dubai, United Arab Emerites!!  We missed connection to Hyderabad because we had to make an emergency landing in Minneapolis so a sick passenger could be taken to hospital.

NWA rebooked us on this new flight which will eventually get us to Hyderabad, but not as soon as we planned.  This is both exciting and stressful.  But we think we are well situated to catch our last flight in spite of the new airport experience.

Dubai airport is very nice although things are rather expensive here (note to Pastor Mark: A tall Starbucks coffee is $5.50!)

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I love this little village girl though I never even met her.  I love her spirit and playfulness, even amidst her poverty.

Perhaps ours was the first automobile she had seen in days.  The opportunity must have been too good to pass up, so as we casually drove past her remote Indian village she clenched her fists and set her jaw and, giving no heed to the impossibility of her victory, the race was on.

I look at her picture now.  I am tempted to shake my head and smile “knowingly” as I contemplate the futility of her challenge.  Then I remind myself, “Had it been God’s will she would, indeed, have won that race”.

O, Spirit of a Child

Where is it you go when we come of age?

Are you gone forever,

Or are you merely hiding

That we might still seek you?

“Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” Mark 10:14

Mike

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The orphanage we visited in India has stairs leading to the roof.  From there you can watch in the morning as the surrounding community comes to life for another day.

Roger and I were up there early one time and as we looked about we saw that we had been noticed by a very young girl of one of the “tent families” nearby.  She was waving to us enthusiastically and so we waved back.  So, of course this encouraged her to wave even more.  Pretty soon her family noticed what was going on and they all began to wave.  It was a very nice way for us to start off the day.

On the way down the stairs Roger, being the very outgoing person he is, suggested we go over and meet these people.  So we walked over to their camp and introduced ourselves.  All of us had to make use of lots of hand gestures and body language in our greetings because of the language barrier, but it worked pretty well.  We even “asked” them if we could take their pictures which they were happy to allow.

During the course of things one of the men, probably the head of this family group kept trying to say something to us which we couldn’t figure out.  At one point I said, “Roger, I think he is asking us to pray for them”.  Roger wasn’t sure about that so we continued with our visit, taking pictures and generally wrinkling up our noses and saying, “Huh” whenever they would say something, or occasionally nodding if we thought that was safe.

Finally this man must have realized we were somewhat slow, so he helped us out by putting his hands together in front of his face and uttering something like, “Praee?”.  Of course, having assumed this was a Hindu family, we were really surprised that our prayers were actually what he had been asking for all along.

But we were glad to lay hands on, and pray for each of them individually then.  And when we were done this man went into his tent and came out with a photo album for us to look through.  It was full of pictures of all the family members being baptised!  And Roger was especially struck when he even recognized the pastor who was baptising them as one he knew from meetings in Hyderabad (Shakur, or Sakir, or something.  As usual, I can’t remember the name).

So, it seems that day God gave us a gentle reminder that we are not to judge others, though it comes so naturally and is so hard not to sometimes.  In a way that God does so well, he also blessed us at the same time with the assurance that the body of Christ reached out into the community beyond the walls of the orphanage.

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We returned home on the 5th of Feb.  As we left Jangaon there were plenty of repairs left to do at the orphanage.  I don’t envy Roger.  He has his hands full trying to keep the hired workers on task.  It seems they don’t share our concerns for getting things done according to a schedule.  But I still think things will work out in the end.

Jan has it no easier.  But she’s a good and dedicated teacher who really cares.  Most of the children may not speak English but they will know she loves them.  So they may try just hard enough to make things work anyway.

I have been struggling with this blog to insert photos.  Things were not going well at all and I had about given up.  Whenever I put a couple pictures in it would stop accepting any more.  But an hour ago I happened to be on the phone to our daughter, Erica.  She’s one of 2 computer geeks I can usually count on to bail me out.

Well, I think she did do it again.  She told me she uses an online service called PhotoBucket.  You just dump all your pictures in there.  Then you can do a number of things to share them with others.  I set up my account and put a bunch of the pics in there and noticed they have a ready-made slide show template.

On one of my next couple of posts you will find the slide show I made.  Leave me a comment telling me whether you like it, or not.

I will also be using PhotoBucket to post still shots here, in a subsequent post.  So check back.

Mike

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Hi,

It’s Sunday afternoon.  The internet has been down for us for most of the last few days.  It seems there were a couple severed fiberoptic cables out in the Mediterranian somewhere.  So I will make this just a short post so we don’t lose connection while I go on and on.

I got some good recordings of the kids at church today.  We will be showing some of it for them tonight in the meeting hall.  I also put together a slide show.  I don’t think they children know we are going to do this.

I am getting over my cold now.  But the bad news is Roger, Jan and Sharon now have it.  I know Sharon was particularly miserable last night as she only slept about 2 hours.  Right now (about 4:30 PM) she is in bed trying to catch up.  Tomorrow night we start our long trek home.  So she will need lots of rest now.

We will be back home on the 5th and see all our Grace and Glory friends next Sunday and can share more afterward.

Mike

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Hi All,

It’s Wednesday morning just after 9 o’clock.  I was up before light this morning.  I’m not an early riser, but yesterday I came down with a cold.  So I didn’t sleep much last night and finally gave up trying just after 5 AM.

Roger and KM are on their way to Hyderabad for the day; some conference, or something.  So I kinda have to pay extra attention to the workmen.  So far only the painters have arrived.  I walked around some looking at their work.  They just need to know someone is watching them.  The other day it was discovered they were diluting the paint to make it easier to spread.  The contract called for unmixed paint too be used so it would cover better and last longer.  But it’s more work for them.  So now they must know we are keeping an eye on them.

They have a young man here, Martin, whose job is sort of a maintenence man among other things.  This mornong he gave me a tour of their water treatment equipment.  He goes into that room every day and back-flushes the equipment and checks the chemicals that keep the scale from clogging the pipes.  I understand from Roger, though, one of the major reasons for the treatment system is to lower the very high (about 10x allowable) amount of fluoride in the water.  Until Roger and Jan arrived earlier this month this system had been not working well since certain filters, etc. were in dire need of replacement.  I hope the new ones do the trick.  While I was checking on the painters the children all converged around me as usual to say Good Morning and ask me how I was doing.  While doing this I did notice that many of them have mottled teeth.  I know that high fluoride levels in the water has been known to cause that.  Please pray that their water will remain clean and healthy for them.

The other day it was discovered that someone had donated a video projector to the orphanage sometime in the past.  Nobody here knew how to use it, so it just sat there.  I tried it out by hooking it up to my computer and playing a DVD in it.  It works beautifully.  So Jan is planning to play some Bible story DVDs for them.  I have a hunch it will also be able to play videos we take here with our cameras.  I am planning to try that this afternoon, as well as a VCR.  If the VCR works with it there are a bunch of Barney videos we can play for them.  They love Barney.

Night before last we needed to pray for healing for one of the girls.  She lost her mother some time back and ever since, while she dwells on her loss, she develops bad headaches that leave her bawling with pain, either emotional or physical.  We have checked on her several times since that night and she is doing fine, so far.

Poor Rani, another girl, is also walking around in pain.  She had some major dental work done yesterday, and now is walking around afraid to move her jaw.  Her teeth were all crooked and Roger and Jan paid for her dental work.  Rani is a beautiful girl, about marrying age who is even more beautiful with straight teeth.

I met another little girl this morning.  Her name is Swathi.  She looks like about 5 or 6 years old.  She comes from the Banjara community.  In spite of missing her upper two front teeth she really has the sweetest smile and loves to be hugged.  But Swathi only speaks Lombadi (sp), the native Banjara language.  She doesn’t seem to be able to learn Telugu, so can’t communicate with us, or the other children either.  So she just stands around looking up at you with that sweet smile and waits for a hug.  It’s so easy to love these children!

I am writing this post on Jayamani’s computer again.  I haven’t heard any ideas from anyone regarding that wi-fi signal I mentioned in my last post.  I hope there’s a way to use it.  If anyone knows how please leave me a post.

Must go now.  The painters will be getting lazy

Mike M.

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