Karva Chauth: Husband’s Day
In the U.S. we celebrate Mother’s Day and Father’s Day and recently Grandparents and Securtaries Day have been added. But in India, so far I have learned about a Daughter’s Day, a religious festival honoring and praying for single women (I liked that one because my upstairs neighbor brought me a delisious breakfast of puri, curri, and coconut), and now a day of prayer and fasting for husbands. Karva Chauth was on Monday. On the metro throughout the day I noticed that more women than usual were out wearing saris and hands stained decoratively with mahindi. Later with fire crackers interupted a dinner meeting I was having–I realized it must be a festival day. Sometimes I am clueless. Apparently the women get all done up, fast and pray from thier husbands and then when the moon comes out they go to thier husband’s family house if they don’t live there and have a huge feast. Sounds good to me.
PS. Can you guess which hand(s) is(are) mine? clue: Last week I was in South India and had my mehndi on my hands, everyone was very pleased that it came out dark because they said dark mehndi means I will have a good husband!
Why India? Is there something about India that you believe with deepen your relationship with God?
A guy I got to know at a friend’s wedding , a few months ago in Portland, asked me, “Why are you heading off for India to serve and study Hindi? Is there something about India that you believe will deepen your relationship with God?”
And, I have been thinking about that question ever since. India is a spiritual land. Everything is seen as spiritual. Cows, monkeys, elephants, and most of all people–deceased and living. The magical memorial known as the Taj Mahal has a mosque aligned to it’s right. Punjab is home to the Golden Temple, of the Sikhs. Almost every hill top is crowned with a temple. In the east are Buddhist Monasteries. Delhi is home to Birla Temple and to Jama Masjid. But just like I do not believe there is anything literally sacred about “the Holy Land,” I believe that the only sacred land is the place where God dwells. In one way, God is everywhere, so all land is holy. But someday I believe that Jesus will return to this earth and fully establish his kingdom. India will be transformed, U.S. will be transformed, Jerusalem/Palestine, everywhere will be new.
For now, I think that the only thing that can deepen a person’s relationship with God is obedience. And, God called me to India. God called me before I was born. (See Why India?) So, I am here.
But before I moved to India, I lived in New Jersey and was studying and there in my beautiful house in a cute little town with all the comforts of living in the U.S.A. and there I was trying to live a life of obedience to God as well. Sometimes I would get off track and just go after what I wanted–like a boyfriend, a nice computer, a nice bike, a good time (not that those are necessarily bad things). But, most days I would spend time in praying and reading the bible and in those times God would nudge me back on track. And, if I was so far off that I didn’t hear God’s voice in those quiet times then my roommates or my other dear friends would call me out. Sometimes it was hard, sometimes it hurt–bad, but it was good. In New Jersey, I also helped my friends stay on the right path.
And the same will be here in India.
It’s Festival Season: Dusserha
In India, Festival Season has begun with Id and now Dusserha. It’s exciting to start “the Holidays” in mid October instead of late November (Thanksgiving). But true to form, I am clueless about these festivals. I’ve created some links on the side bar that are helping me understand what is going on.
Tonight as we were driving home from Sunday worship, we drove past festive light canopies and even witnessed the burning of the demon god Ravana. This is the climax of “Ramlila,” a nine day play or reenactment about the defeat of good over evil. The Ram (the good god) defeats Ravana (the evil god). Just as I was feeling proud of myself for knowing what was going on, we turned the corner into our own neighborhood (or colony as they call it here). We could not get through the street. Everyone was in the street. There were some stages with chairs on them lining the street. Some kids were wearing masks. It reminded me of Halloween, a little bit. Music was blaring from competing tents. As we waded through the crowd, we passed hundreds of people walking to the main street. People from the slum near by and people from our neighborhood shoulder to shoulder in the street. Why? I do not know.
We made it home. Dad had gone to a home group and he ended up having to do a lot of walking people the roads were so crowded. Life is an adventure…
Reading Our Holy Books: A Challenge
Basically I am a bible and theology nerd. My college and seminary classmates can relate. For the past seven years I studied Religion, primarily Christian theology and the bible. First I studied at Lee University, a Pentecostal institution in Tennessee. Then I studied a Princeton Theological Seminary in New Jersey. Princeton is Presbyterian. So my theological-educational background is diverse. I know a lot about the bible. I know about the theories of authorship, historical editing, cultural setting, ect. I know Greek (the original language of the New Testament). Unfortunately I do not know Hebrew (the original language of the Old Testament). I know the various theories of inspiration. And while I find all of this knowledge helpful and informative, I am missing one thing. I do not know what is in the bible.
So I am reading our Holy Books. I’ve started in three places: the beginning (Genesis), the middle (Proverbs), and the end (Matthew). Each day I read one chapter from each book. It is amazing the sharpness I am finding in reading the books in an Eastern context. After all, it is an eastern book.
So I challenge you, read the bible. Read the bible and let God speak to you through the ancient words. As you read, if you are American, let me know what things stand out to you as culturally foreign. If you are Indian let me know what you notice is culturally similary to your country.
To Date (the American way) or Not To Date (the Indian way)?
Just a few weeks ago I ate dinner with an American guy at a hip restaurant in Delhi called Hookah. Mid-meal, he proposed a toast to our agreement that “dating sucks.” I raised my glass. But we were on a date. One on one, we were out getting to know each other. I like going on dates. The drawn-out purposeless hanging-out that American dating has evolved into annoys me. Dating seems like a waste of time to me.
At the same time, the typical Indian guy is way too serious too fast. I knew a red-head that stayed in Chennai, India for a while. She received proposals monthly–Marriage proposals. Not toast proposals. Sometimes from perfect strangers. My facial expressions of disinterest generally prevent guys I’m not interested in from going that far, but still.
If the American way is to get to know each other and if we get along then maybe we’ll see (about marriage). Then the Indian way to get married and get to know each other (and then we’ll see). Yet America has a higher divorce rate, I don’t get it. Neither culture prepares young people for marriage very well. Here in India, they often don’t even know each other. Sometimes they know very little about relating to the opposite sex. In the U.S. we know way too much.
You know you are experiencing culture shock when…
…you spend an hour cleaning your bathroom even though you have a cleaning lady that washes the floor six days a week, and you still think it is not clean enough. According to Duane Elmer, in Cultural Connections, a person from a western culture adapting to an eastern culture is a square head trying to fit into a world of round heads. I think I know what he means.
200 Sheep, 20 Cows, 15 dogs, 5 pigs, 1 Elephant, 1 Ox, 1 Monkey in the Street
So, I live in New Delhi. New Delhi is the metropolitan capital of India. People and companies from all over the world settled here. Using my Dad’s frame of reference from the U.S., Delhi is about the size of Atlanta with the Population of NYC. Crazy. (For details see Lonely Planet).
We have ice cream, electricity, international cuisine (at least kind of), an amusement park, golf courses, a metro system, ect. But I am still on the other-side of the world, and I can feel it every minute. To turn a light on, you flip the switch down not up.
And, all God’s creatures roam the earth freely (except perhaps female humans after dark). In the last few days I have seen approximately: 20 Cows, 15 dogs, 5 pigs, 1 Elephant, 1 Ox, 1 Monkey in the Street. The sheep were funniest sight. We we driving to church, or rather my friend Sam was driving us and there in the middle of a traffic jam where three men guiding about 100 sheep. The sheep had brightly painted faces: green, pink and yellow. Then a few minutes later, there was another herd of sheep. This brings a whole new light on the parable of the lost sheep.
Why India?
In May I completed a Masters of Divinity (which is a formal degree in Christian Service) at a prestigious seminary and a month ago I moved to India. The question everyone wants to know is “Why?” Or here in Delhi “Qu?”
I was named after a woman who served the needy in India. After my parents visited India in the late seventies, their heart was captured with love for the people. So, when they had me they wanted to share that love with me and so they named me Amy. Throughout my childhood, my mom and dad would read books about people who served God and served the needy all around the world. We especially read about Amy Carmichael, Mother Teresa, Ramabai, and William Carey. But I was an artist and I didn’t want to go to what I then thought of as a poverty-stricken place like India, I wanted to see the in vogue places of the world like Paris, London, Italy, and New York.
Then in 1999, I was a senior in High School and my Dad invited me to accompany him to South India for a two week trip. I said, “Why not?” And from the first morning I looked out at the street below–I was in love. The bright colors, the golden brown skin, the tropical fruit, the crazy traffic, rich food, fabric, and smells captivated me.
So, my parents named me prophetically.
