Ms. Pratt

Oh, India

2009-04-30T12:45:00.000-07:00

I found this and realized I had forgotten to post it... so, now I'm posting it :).

I came to India not knowing exactly what to expect, seeing as this opportunity was quite unexpected. I was asked by my dear friend Chiraphone if I would be interested in going with a group called Truthseekers (http://truthseekersinternational.org/). A quick spark of excitement rushed through my body, then reality hit and I knew it would take a miracle to raise the money in time. But a wonderful and generous doctor had already donated the majority amount to send an APU student… or in my case, alum… and a few offices and wonderful individuals helped with the rest. So within weeks of first hearing about this opportunity, I was on a plane bound for India.

India. The word is no longer is a country name but a list of emotions that rush over me as I hear her name, read her name, say her name. So much transformation has taken place within me inside these borders.

As always, each time I come is a new lesson. My prayer was to experience God in a way I had not before.

I connected with an old friend in Delhi for a day and then met up with the Truthseekers group. Truthseekers is about hope. They have committed themselves to walk alongside Dalit and Other Backward Castes leaders, to help them find a voice in the political process, and to help them obtain freedom from the caste system. It was started by Sunil (referred to as India’s Martin Luther King, Jr.), who was born of a lower caste in India but believed very strongly that the caste system is unethical and started this movement with his wife to abolish the caste system with the message of freedom that is in Christ.

God is not confined by borders or tradition or language. The message of freedom translates into any language and any culture. This message proclaims that no one is untouchable, no one is invisible, no one is unlovable. This is hope. This is truth.

The rally that was supposed to happen ended up having to be postponed, so the program changed for us to, instead of going to Bhopal, we were now going to a village that had been asking Sunil to come speak to them for some time now. The village was outside of the city Jhabua in the state of Madhya Pradesh. This particular village was Christian and was recently burnt down by the RSS, an Indian extremist group. They were very timid and were looking for encouragement and support. There were also people from neighboring villages, some came from as far as 80 km away.

This turned out to be probably one of the most significant moments in my life. We held meetings with the villagers where Sunil, other Truthseekers staff, and us visitors, had a chance to share about freedom, equality, caste reconciliation, and our journeys as Christ followers. At the end of the meetings, we were able to participate in an act that Truthseekers has come to be known by…

We washed their feet. The look in the first woman’s eyes while I was washing her feet was unforgettable. What was happening was revolutionary. An upper caste washing the feet of a lower caste. To be knelt at this woman’s feet, showing her that she is seen, heard, and loved. I will forever be grateful for that opportunity. This is what the Kingdom of God looks like. Breaking the bondages of oppression and hate with a simple act of humility. Some of the women wept as we washed their feet. They embraced us so strongly afterward. This act was challenging and breaking down the system of oppression that these people have been mentally and physically enslaved to. And now they had heard the message that they are equal.

There have been a couple moments on this trip that have caught my breath, made me stop, and realize where I am, where I have been, and where I am going. God does not change when I am here, but I see Him in a different way. It seems that when the familiar is stripped away and you feel like a foreigner, an outsider… God can become your foundation, your way of understanding, your pursuit. I allow so many things of my home culture to distract and deter me from my pursuit of understanding God.

We made it back to Delhi, I bid farewell to my new friends, and was on my way to Chennai. My first day there was a blur of taxi rides, meeting faculty and staff, seeing the campus, and visiting neighboring slums. In the nighttime… first the mosquitoes attacked… and then the food poisoning. I was up all night, not being able to hold anything down, even water. That made for a very difficult next day of work. I was incredibly weak, but kept praying to get all that I needed to get done that day accomplished. And for the most part, I did. I interviewed some of the staff, faculty and students of MATUL, as well as took a tour of the campus and managed to get some decent photographs.

Being in Kolkata again, seeing my family and friends… oh, it was so good. I spent the two days roaming around the city and catching up with everyone. They wouldn’t stop feeding me. Good thing I got food poisoning, had to make some room for all that Bengali food.

And now I am on a layover in London, my flight for the states leaves in a few hours. This time went by so fast! I look forward to seeing you all soon! SO SOON!

Much love,
Bec

Here are the pictures from my time with Truthseekers:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2077457&id=56904185&l=629cfbdefa

Here are the pictures from my time in Chennai:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2078816&id=56904185&l=bcb6c7f582

Here are the pictures from my time back home in Kolkata:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2078819&id=56904185&l=c7e6ee39f

I Just Can't Get Enough of Those Waffles.

2009-02-26T13:06:00.000-08:00

I made it to NYC! That might be news to some of you that didn’t even know I was traveling… which is why I am sending out this little update ☺. However, New York is not the end destination on this adventure, just a two-hour layover. As we were landing I looked out the window and commented on how smoggy New York was, and the woman next to me said, “This coming from Miss LA. Lay off my New York.” Allow me to introduce my neighbor for the flight, Jennifer Pratt. She’s got my last name and my roommates first name. Coincidence? I think not! I was thinking of you Jen the whole flight! LOVE LOVE! This lady is a crazy world traveler who was born in Philly and looked like she was 20 but was actually 40 and was coming back to New York to move her things to Hawaii. She also lived in an ashram in Mumbai, India for a portion of her life. She and I shared some crazy traveling stories, but alas I was knocked out for most the flight, again due to my brilliant idea to stay up the entire night before I go on an international flight. I’m gettin too old for this (Eric: “Yeah, grandma!”).

So I am on my way to Brussels, Belgium for a couple days to reconnect with the Stop the Traffik team that I worked with last summer. I am really excited to see them all and to talk of possibilities of being more involved in the future. But this is just an extended layover and not the purpose of this trip.

There are two reasons for my trip. The first is to act as an APU delegate in a rally in Bhopal, India. There are going to be about 6 delegates from the states as well as a team from Truthseekers International (http://truthseekersinternational.org/

), and roughly 25,000 youth gathered at this rally. I will have more on this when I get there… because when I asked what exactly would be happening, they said that, “This is India, expect anything,” a motto I have come to live by.

I will be in Delhi for a day or two and will be able to connect with a friend from Kolkata who moved to Delhi, which I am looking forward to. From Delhi I will fly to Chennai, which is the second reason for my trip. I was recently hired on staff at APU to serve as the program assistant to Professor Richard Slimbach for the new masters program that the Global Studies department of our university is developing. The end result of this two and a half year program is a Master of Arts in Transformational Urban Leadership (MATUL). Our program is connected with entrepreneurial training institutions on four continents (Asia, Africa, North America, South America) that sponsor this entirely field-based program. There is a single focus: to develop leaders who can catalyze transformational movements for positive change within the world’s burgeoning slums and shantytowns. I am going to visit our Chennai site to take some footage, conduct some interviews, and try to find a way to encapsulate where and how MATUL students will have this life transforming experience.

I also added on a flight to Kolkata to see my family and friends there. I could not imagine going to India and not going to Kolkata.

It’s basically going to be non-stop for me for the next two weeks. Every couple days I will be traveling by train or plane and I have a lot of early mornings ahead…

and ya’ll know I ain’t a fan of the mornings.

But I am incredibly excited and know that this is going to be exactly what it needs to be… whatever that may be ☺. I appreciate all your prayers and support! I will keep you all updated. If you see Momma Pratt, give her a hug. I know its only two weeks this time but that poor lady is just waiting for the phone call saying I’m not coming home. Give her a reassuring pat on the back and tell her I’ll be home soon.

Much love,
Bec

P.S. I wrote the above in NY but I am in Belgium now. Made it safely. I only slept 7 hours total and got here at 7am so I went the whole day on adrenalin but now it is bedtime and I am one happy lady. It’s like I never left! Phil and the team are putting me straight to work, and I would have it no other way. It was so good to see Phil’s wife Rachel and the BBB’s (beautiful British babies). Although Sam, the eldest, informed Rachel before I got here that I can no longer call him a BBB, because he is 7 and no longer a baby. He is now a BBBB, a beautiful British big boy. All the little Euro cars make me miss your car, Christopher.

The Day I Died

2008-09-14T23:53:00.000-07:00

Last year I was walking through the parking lot after sharing about my time in India and I heard a voice behind me, “Becca, I’m proud of you,” he said. “Thanks,” I replied with a shrug, so grateful for what he said because his opinion of me matters so much but trying to hide it and act like it wasn’t a big deal like I always do… a sort of false humility. And even though I was reassured hearing that he was proud of me, I felt guilty. I had all this pain and doubt and fear then which seemed to weigh so heavy that at night I couldn’t sleep and in every quiet moment it would scream at me. In the seconds of silence that followed his comment, I listed 1,000 things that if he only knew were going on inside me or things that I had done, he would not be so proud of me. He would not be because how could he? If he saw me how I saw me, he would not be proud… he would be ashamed, disappointed, like how I was with myself. But I knew he couldn’t see what I saw, because I hid it with a well-manufactured mask. I hid my lack of faith, guilt and shame with works, confidence and a smile. Behind the mask was someone who was lost, confused and selfish. Then, after those shame filled moments, he said, “Hey Bec, not because of what you do, but because of who you are.” And with those few words, he was the first person in years to take off my mask. He saw me. He was proud of me not because of what I did, but because of who I am. Just me. It seems simple enough, but for me, at that moment and still to this day, it was ground breaking, earth shattering. He was the first to say that all that I have done put aside, he is still proud of who I am as a person. Still I think to that moment and tears fill my eyes. It was one of those moments in life where God used someone to show me a side of Him that I needed to learn… that do or don’t do, God still accepts me just as I am. This moment has been on my heart lately, and one that I have been thinking of during these long, hard days in Kolkata. If you are reading this, you know who you are, and I never thanked you… but that simple moment has been one of the most inspiring moments of my life. Thank you.

If I’m honest I can say that when I returned from India last year, I did not feel Gods presence as I had before… if at all. He felt distant, again He had become this idea or concept that was not real to me. My heart had grown cold. I became very pessimistic and critical on the inside. Many of you may have noticed the change. It was not a proud moment in my life. I felt misunderstood and alone. And I felt like God was being silent in it all. When I cried out to Him during those sleepless nights, I heard nothing, felt nothing, sensed nothing. So for a long time I had nothing. My life felt chaotic and I tried to convince myself and everyone else who was looking that I had it all under control. My life became a series of up and down moments. All the while I was angry with God because I was trying to understand Him the way I used to know Him, but our relationships with God are continuously going through seasons of intensity and of growth. My relationship with God was now in a season of maturity. If I felt like God was being silent, was I going to abandon my beliefs and understandings of Him and His word, or was I going to persevere? So, this became an internal search that I let only a few in on with full honesty. And while I still felt chaos and confusion...

I learned to listen through the silence.

If I am to let my life speak things I want to hear, things I would gladly tell others, I must also let it speak things I do not want to hear and would never tell anyone else. My life is not only about my strengths and virtues; it is also about my liabilities and my limits, my trespasses and my shadows. An inevitable though often ignored dimension of the quest for “wholeness” is that I must embrace what I dislike or find shameful about myself as well as what I am confident and proud of. Through this searching, I tried to hold onto what I knew was Truth and allowed myself to wrestle through the hard questions and doubts that surfaced. And now I can say that I can sense God in people, in moments, in situations again in a way I hadn’t before… and God’s silence was broken that night I heard “I am thirsty.”

Let me tell you about the day I died. It wasn’t a heroic death. It wasn’t a noble death. I didn’t even see it coming. It just happened one day. I was walking in Bangalore last month, crossing the street, and out of nowhere, it happened. One of the little children that are sent to beg in that area came in front of me and before I knew what was happening… she touched my feet. I looked at her and pulled her up and said, “No, no, no! You don’t have to do that! Don’t do that hun!” She obviously saw how shocked I was and decided not to ask me for money and walked away. In India, one of the highest forms of respect to show an elder is to bend down and touch their feet. She had bent down and touched my feet, only to get money because she was either hungry, or she had to raise enough to give to her trafficker so she wasn’t beaten… or one of the many other reasons why kids end up begging. That killed me. It killed me that she would feel that she would have to do that just because I have money or to get my money. The amount of money in your wallet does not determine the amount of respect you should get. She shouldn’t have to do that. People shouldn’t have to do that. Children shouldn’t have to know a life like this. That moment has stayed with me ever since. That day, that side of me that wanted to say, “Forget this, I can’t handle it any more. I’m going home and never putting myself through this again,”… that side died. My life should be about helping her. About getting her a proper meal and a chance to a healthy, safe, full life. About letting her know about the unconditional love of the one true God. To me, she is every man, woman and child that is in desperate need for people to come into their lives that act as the hands of God Himself. She is why I am going to keep living this life set before me… and she is why I will try and live it in full humility, bending down to touch her feet. That’s not going to be easy for me. Humility is not one of those disciplines that is ever easy for me. But, Lord help me, I will try.

Before you tell your life what you intend to do with it, listen for what it intends to do with you. Before you tell your life what truths and values you have decided to live up to, let your life tell you what truths you embody, what values you represent. Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and go do that, because what the world needs is people who have come alive.

Searching for the Solution

2008-09-08T06:13:00.000-07:00

My last week in Bangalore was unforgettable. I am going to miss my Scottish roomie, my British comrades, my Indian Ma Majella, my blessing Latha, all the girls that I danced and sang and played games with, the women who practiced their English with me, the staff at Oasis who always had smiles, my host family who did not really like Americans but seemed to like me regardless ☺, and all the workers at SACMEP. Bangalore is a beautiful place. It is a different side of India that I had not seen before. I pray my life’s journey leads me there again.

It is hard to explain what its like being back here in Kolkata. After getting Chris situated in his hostel and catching up with my Auntie and Uncle and Sudip, I went to my room and laid down. It was so surreal. It felt as if I had never left. The only way I can explain it is as if the past year from last August to this August was just a very long dream; I dreamt those long nights in the library working on my thesis, those busy and incredibly entertaining days at work, the long, life changing conversations with those close to me, walking across the stage and shaking President Wallace’s hand as a graduate of Azusa Pacific University, working with Stop the Traffik in Belgium, touring Europe, and all the crazy, exciting and significant moments that happened in-between… those all felt like a long dream. Everything is exactly how I remember it… nothing has changed except for one thing, myself. A lot has changed with me and in me since I last walked these streets. It has been hard because many of the things that I had been dealing with last year I am being reminded of when I see a bench that I used to sit at and talk with Aarti about our pasts or the metro stop where I broke down in tears because I couldn’t handle the pain any more. But I have been working through them since last year and since I have been here, and not alone. Chris has been a great listener and asks the deep, thought provoking questions that have been helping me process through much of the sting that I feel here. We have spent this past week in Kolkata walking and talking. We even accidentally joined a communist demonstration that was a march against imperialism and for peace. We saw thousands of people walking in the direction that we were heading for Sisters of Charity and decided to continue walking. There were all these communist flags and I’m not gonna lie, the Yankee in me got a little frightened. We got a lot of looks, like, what the hell are you doing here? But Chris and I continued to talk about the differences and similarities between Catholicism and Protestantism and walked with the Commies. Chris picked up a flyer that was in Hindi about the march and later I showed my host brother and he said I was marching against myself, “since you are from the imperialist country, only.”

In Kolkata I have been spending a lot of time with my host family, helping my Auntie cook and talking with Uncle about… everything. Auntie has made me her assistant so she can teach me to “cook good food so you get husband and then I come to America for your wedding.” So far I have three Indian dishes down pretty well. The trick will just be smuggling in some Indian spices through customs. I have also been spending a lot of time with my friend Aarti and her mother at their place. The story of Aarti and I is one that I love to tell. The first week that I came to Kolkata, I lost my ring and I figured it was at the Hospital. I asked the nurses that worked on the floor that I stayed on if they had seen my ring. Aarti happened to be there and said, “Oh no! You’ve lost your ring? Here, take mine!” She took hers off and before I knew what she was doing, it was on my finger. I shook my head no, saying it was fine, but she insisted. I had just met her that night. Later that week, she came to check on me and I had just been crying because of a very hard telephone conversation. She asked me what was wrong and I just told her I was having a hard time being away from home. She sat down and consoled me and said that the next day we would meet up and go for a chat. That was it. We were close friends from that moment on and still are to this day. She is a beautiful, intelligent, cheerful girl who is always looking out for me and is someone who I can talk for hours with. When I called to tell her I was going to be in Kolkata, she actually screamed, she was so excited. It has been great spending time with her.

Lately I have been seeking freedom from many things that have been distracting me and discouraging me. Freedom from my complacency. Freedom from my apathy. Freedom from my fear. Freedom from my past. Freedom from my selfishness. Freedom from my shame. Freedom from materialism. Freedom from my agenda. Freedom from these things is a journey, one that is a journey of choice and perseverance. And in finding this freedom, I am discovering an eternal hope. I found myself last year believing that having hope in dire circumstances like those in Kolkata was just being naïve or ignorant. I was so hopeful when I was young, as most of us are before life teaches us its hard lessons. When I was younger and I was asked what I wanted to do with my life, I would respond, “Change the world.” I was known at kids camp as Agent World Changer. It seemed possible then, it wasn’t a question of “if” but “when.” However, over the years this hope began to feel childish. Who was I to think that I could change anything? There was so much that needed changing, so many things that were wrong, so many people that were hurting, so many politics and systems that were keeping people hurting and preventing people from helping them. That is when I started to just feel like I was naïve to be hopeful… and I was naïve in many ways because my hope was not anchored in the eternal. So I began to lose hope and the hope that remained I put in meaningless things for meaningless reasons because it was safe and it was easier. But after time that hope left me feeling imbalanced, empty and unsatisfied. So now I am on a quest, yes, a quest for hope. A divine hope. A holistic hope. A redeeming hope. A committed hope. I am desiring to have the hope that strongly says yes when it seems that everyone and everything is saying no. I do not like the cynic that I have become. I know all the problems… or at least I am good at finding them. But when it comes to the solutions, I am at a loss. I want to know, understand, comprehend, and live out what it really means to be a follower of Jesus Christ. I wan’t to know the one true God, the real Great I Am… not the man-made one. I want what I do to be eternal work. I want to be a solution to the problem.

Chris and I start working in Kalighat, the Home of the Dying and Destitute, tomorrow. Chris has adapted to the Kolkata way of life really well and rather quickly. He’s adjusted to the transportation, the people, the way to say yes with your head, the noise… but he hasn’t adjusted to the food that well. He loves the food… but the food hasn’t loved him that much. Please pray for his tummy. He’s become good friends with the owner of the couch he is living on. And he now has a cell phone so my panic attacks are less frequent when I don’t know where he is (you all know how badly I can worry sometimes). Well, I put some more snaps on Facebook. Please check out the album. There are some from Bangalore and then some from Kolkata. Best surprise since I have been here: my host brother got a motorcycle. Nothing like late night rides through Kolkata. Yeah, again… maybe don’t mention this to my mom or grandma. Thanks ☺. As for now, I bid you farewell.

Much love from South East Asia,
Bec

P.S. Go here for snaps http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2063830&l=a45c5&id=56904185

P.S.S. Here's a little something from a book on Mother Teresa's writings that I am reading.

She writes, "Jesus wants me to tell you again... how much is the love He has for each one of you -- beyond all that you can imagine... Not only He loves you, even more -- He longs for you. He misses you when you don't come close. He thirsts for you. He loves you always, even when you don't feel worthy... For me, it is so clear -- everything in the Missionaries of Charity exists only to satiate Jesus. His words on the wall of every MC chapel, they are not from the past only, but alive here and now, spoken to you. Do you believe it?... Why does Jesus say, "I thirst"? What does it mean? Something so hard to explain in words -- ... "I thirst" is something much deeper than just Jesus saying "I love you." Until you know deep inside that Jesus thirsts for you -- you cannot begin to know who He wants to be for you. Or who He wants you to be for Him."

BANG BANG BANGalore

2008-08-17T21:52:00.000-07:00

India. Returning here is exactly what I needed. Last year I felt like a stranger. Now I feel like a part of a plan. Last year I felt defeated. Now I feel equipped. Last year I lost hope. Now I’m beginning to find it. Last year I blamed God. Now I’m accepting the responsibility. Last year I carried a heavy burden. Now I am being set free. Last year I knew only chaos. Now I am feeling more balanced. Last year I left a lot of things unfinished. Now I am here to finish them.

Bangalore is very different from the India that I grew to know in Kolkata. It’s about 20 degrees less in temperature, and a couple million less in people. She is calm, friendly, noisy, colorful, comforting, and has a lot of cows… and the occasional camel. The girls on my team and I stay at a guesthouse just off one of the main roads. My roommate is the very Scottish Sarah Lowe. She is a beautiful young woman who is currently studying medicine in Scotland and totally gets my humor, which she attributes to the fact that she watches a lot of American television. The other two girls, Sarah Pike and Katie May, are the Brittishers of our group. Both hale from England, Sarah just about to start university and Katie May is finishing her studies in Theology. They are some good girls.

My work here is twofold. I volunteer with the Oasis India office as well as South Asia Centre for Missing and Exploited Persons (SACMEP), which is a project of Oasis India and connected with Stop the Traffik. Monday afternoons the UK girls and I go to a nearby community to help with a Girls Club for the young girls there, teaching them about making right choices, how to take care of themselves, developing them as women and that while boys are nice to have as boyfriends, you don’t necessarily need one, etc. Lattah was telling us some of the stories of the girls that sat before us, coloring their craft last Monday. Many of them come from tragic and dire circumstances. I can’t shake the image of Lattah telling me the story of how one of the girls mother had killed herself and her father was sexually abusing her, just as the young girl lifted up her head with a big smile, showing me her drawing and looking for my approval. The girls come from the slum that you can see from the rooftop that we have Girls Club on. If you follow the rows of small shelters, patched together from rags, scraps of sheet metal, reed mats and tarps, you find yourself staring at a large brick wall with barbed wire facing inward to keep the people of that community out. And what is it that they are being prohibited from entering… a huge, lush, green golf course. Yeah, I’m not even going to start on that. Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons I teach English to women who were formerly working in the sex industry but have now chosen to leave that line of work and are currently working in other fields. I also am giving guitar classes in the evenings.

Here is a Youtube Video about Oasis India:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jJYClj4BKX4

Monday-Friday you will find me at the SACMEP office, which aims to trace missing or vulnerable persons before they can be abused and/or are sold into slavery. They are based in Mumbai, Kolkata and Bangalore. I remember first learning about this organization from Phil on a train ride on the way to work in Belgium. I never would have expected to be helping out there, and it has been such an incredible experience. Most of the things that I hear in that room I find myself thinking, “This only happens in movies… not real life.” SACMEP differs from other anti human trafficking projects because they aim to rescue people before they can be sold or abused. This means that the victim has an increased chance of full rehabilitation. Rescue operations are also conducted for people trapped in places of abuse. SACMEP is an end-to-end strategy, starting from when a child is reported as missing, encompasses aftercare, legal representation, rehabilitation and reintegration. Their involvement ends after a 3-year term when the person is successfully restored back into the community. The staff is composed of investigators, lawyers and social workers. Since the organization was started in May 2007, 111 people have been rescued from slavery or intended slavery. Charges have been filed against 31 perpetrators and 18 victims have been repatriated. Please keep this organization in your prayers. I wish I could tell of all the amazing and heroic things that they are doing… but obviously for safety reasons I cannot. One thing is for sure, they are not standing by and letting this atrocity of human trafficking persist.

I have been here for three weeks and it is going by so quick. Chris will be here next week and the following week I leave for Kolkata. Scott Haskins made his way to Bangalore late last week and was here for a spell. It was nice to see someone from home, and to have someone on my side when conversations came up about the differences between the UK and America. It was also so encouraging to have seen him before he went to Kolkata and now seeing him after… with only days left of his Global Learning Term. For those of you that don’t know, Scott is a friend and fellow Global Studies Minor at APU who did the same program that I did last summer in Kolkata with the same host family. However, he did his internship and research on street children. It was a blessing to have his company and to hear him process some of what he has been dealing with over the past couple months. I found myself transported back to Kolkata in a second as I listened to him talk. It also brought up again the two questions that I have been meditating on as of late.

Who is God?

Who am I?

These are two of the many questions that I left India with last year. They are questions that I have been asking others, but wording them differently. They are questions that I dream about at night. While the “answers” are becoming clearer than they were before, I know I still have a lot more to learn.

That’s all for now. I put up some pictures on Facebook of Bangalore, site seeing and India’s Independence Day. Just a little warning… the girls and I had our own Independence Day celebration that involved a dance party and rather odd outfits. There is really nothing more I can say. Just consider yourself warned. I have a mobile now, so you all can get that number from my mum if you would like it. My body is fighting a persistent cold… so please pray for a full recovery so I can have the necessary energy to live and love and learn more about India. Also, something rather big came up in a Skype conversation that I had a couple days ago. Something to do with the next steps in my life, job wise. Please be praying for me in that. You know I need it ☺. Love, love, love, love!

Here are some pictures:
http://www.new.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2062182&l=52132&id=56904185

xoxox,
Rebecca

Home again

2008-08-04T23:57:00.000-07:00

Greece was like being home. I couldn’t stop smiling as I showed Greg all the places I used to eat at, read at, walk to and through. So many significant moments in my life happened in the city of Athens. We met up with Emma, the director of Neo Zoi, which is the ministry I interned with two summers ago. There are a few new additions to her that had not been there the last time I saw her: a new hubby and a new baby. She also seemed… happier J. The night that we arrived in Athens was one of their ministry nights and the only reason why we chose to travel to the countries that we did… so we could end up in Athens and I would be reunited with and Greg would be exposed to an issue that has been a catalyst to ignite a passion in my life that has been the guiding force behind much of what I have done these past few years. Being with the staff again… it was so amazing to see them and how much they have grown and matured in their journey with God and their work for Him. Many of them took the time while I was there two years ago to invest and instill in me many of the life lessons that have guided me to this day. After all that I had been through these past years, seeing them again was refreshing and reaffirming for my… soul? Feels too cliché to say, but really the only word I can use accurately.

That night we went to walk the streets where the Nigerian women work. I struck up a conversation with one of the women… she wanted to be a veterinarian and go to college in the states. Her birthday was in a few days and I told her I was “upset” that she didn’t tell me two months ago when I had made plans to be in Athens because now I would be leaving on her birthday. “I didn’t know you be here. How was I to know?” she said as she laughed and grabbed my arm. I told her next time to give me fair warning. Beautiful girl. Then it hit me. Girl. Child. I asked her age. “I am going to be 20.” Before it was shocking when I would learn the girls ages because they were my age… now it was shocking because I am now older than most of the girls there. They seemed much more depressed now; the bubbly, chatty, jumpy side seemed to have left most of them. I guess the reality of their situation has finally hit hard… too hard. Many of them refused the cold tea that we offered them on that hot summer night, solely giving their attention to the customers that walked by. There were a few that we talked to and got to know better. I guess it had been a while since the staff had been in that area. I did not recognize any of the girls there. Emma said that they move them every couple months now. Some of the girls I knew were now on the islands, or in Paris, or who knows. But they are somewhere. I’ve seen them, spoken with them, laughed with them. Just because I cannot see them now does not mean that they cease to exist. They are out there. I pray… I don’t know what to pray. What do you pray? God, you know where they are, you know what situations they are in, you know what they need. Lord, I pray that you be with them, protect them, provide for them and restore them.

Jo, one of the Neo Zoi staff that I became really close to, turned to me as we were walking through the streets and said, “You look way to comfortable. What’s keeping you from being here? You belong here.” I told her not to tell me that, and that at this point nothing that I could think of was keeping me from being here. My friend, Irini, said that I’m coming back. She’s the one that in 2005 told me, after leaving my first brothel visit, that I have a gift and I need to come back to Athens. The next year, I was back. A few days before I left for Belgium a couple months ago, I was going through some old papers and documents and I found a piece of paper where Irini had wrote her email addy and in big letters “COME BACK” that she had given me in ’06 at the end of my internship. I turned to her and playfully yelled back, “Don’t you tell me that… EVERY TIME you tell me that I come back.” She smiled, “I know, why do you think I keep telling you?” Oh but how walking those streets again tore at my heart. No one knows until they have been to these place. No one knows until they have seen with their own eyes and felt the ache in their heart and spirit when they realize the amount of evil that exists in this world that so many of us are ignorant of or ignoring. The thing is that when you have been to these places and seen these things, instead of ignoring it or turning your back on it… you know that you have to acknowledge it, confront it, fight it, scream at it, quit making excuses for it and do whatever is in your God given abilities to STOP it. To end it. To conquer it… whatever the it may manifest itself to be. The “it” that causes parents to sell their children because they will then have a better chance at living another day as a slave… the it that causes men to see women purely as a commodity and the special God given gift that is meant to be sacred and shared with only one man is stolen from women night after night by hundreds of “customers”… the it that oppresses and preys and kills the most innocent and vulnerable in this world. That is it. That’s what it does. And it needs to stop. Now. No more excuses. No more theological divisions. No more hesitation. No more contemplation. Just stop it. Do everything in your God given power to be the voice to the voiceless and the hands to the helpless. To whom much has been given, much is required. We have been given so much. Now we have a responsibility to ACT.

I’m beginning to miss home. The toll of the long journey and lack of sleep and rest is leaving me homesick. But I still want to be here. I think that is the difference from other times that I have felt this longing for home. Before I wanted to get on the next flight bound for LAX… now I think about home, miss home, sometimes dream about home, or cry before I go to bed… and still come back to the reality that is in front of me and desire to be here. I know that there is so much that is still calling me to stay here and to exist here and now that I don’t want to miss any part of it. Home will always be there, and it will always be with me. It is so good to be back in India. For those of you that know about my dream situation the last couple months, how I have been having a lot of nightmares and suffered from minor insomnia… well here I dream wonderful, vivid, inspiring dreams. God is speaking, and has always been speaking… but I feel like I am hearing Him more clearly as the screams of my past shame and doubt start to fade into the background. I am remembering what it means and feels to be loved by God. I will write more about what God is doing here in Bangalore soon. There is a lot to tell. I love you all! Thanks for all the encouragement and support. Honestly, none of this would be possible if it wasn’t for all of you that have been there to help me up when I fall and give me a little push when I need one. I love you all and miss you terribly. Please hug my family when you see them… that includes Sable and Tasha J. Love love love love love!

Namaste,
Rebecca

Here are some pictures from Athens, Venice and London:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2060192&l=7d18b&id=56904185

Euro Shenanigins

2008-07-17T02:58:00.000-07:00

Well… pssh I don’t even know where to begin… So much to cover, so little time! My last week in Belgium was a blur of cow masks, Tony Chocolony bars, small adorable and cheeky children, metros, protests, great new friends, Belgian waffles, parties, campaigning, site seeing… with random and amazing experiences thrown in-between. I spent a lot of time with “my little anarchist friend” Lara who christened me her “Yankee friend” or “the Yank,” Stopping Traffik in the streets of Leuven. I must retract a previous statement that I wrote in my blog. It is not every Belgians “duty” to marry and they get married young… this seems to just be in the Christian community. As Lara put it, “You make it seem like we just all sit around waiting to marry someone. Most young people aren’t married.” So, there you go Lara, I set the record straight ☺. There are too many stories and too much love that I have to share from my last week in the wonderful and magical land of Belgium… so I put together a photo album on Facebook that will hopefully paint a pretty picture. I was really sad to leave. Like… really really sad… like I didn’t want to go.

Here's from my time in Belgium:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2058604&l=04e5a&id=56904185

Phil, Rachel and the boys left for their holiday to England a couple days before Greg was scheduled to arrive in Belgium so I “bed surfed” and stayed with some really amazing people those few days. Thank you again Miet and Naomi!! And thank your hubbies too! And Lara… thank your sister for me ☺. Phil and Rachel, thank you again so much for all your help and for letting me be part of the Lane Family Musical for a while.

Greg and I met up at the Brussels airport and then shimmied off to Bruges for a few days. Greg has had some pretty interesting roommates these past few countries. I’ve lucked out. Bruges was very fun and very Dutch. A little too quiet for me. We had a lot of fun though. Here are some pictures from our Belgian shenanigans.

http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2059405&l=2c4aa&id=56904185

Oh geez. France. Well, we started things off by accidentally missing our train to France… but we luckily were able to get on the next available one and made it to Paris just in time. A friend of mine, Josiah Wallace, read in his Newsfeed a comment that I left on a friends wall that I was going to be in Paris and we found out that we were going to overlap our time by one day so our first night there we met up with Josiah and his “older siblings” for dinner and some site seeing escapades. The next day was a walking tour of Paris and then we grabbed some bread and cheese and headed to the Eiffel tower for a little dinner picnic on the grass… followed by rain. Greg and I had planned to go up the tower that night but decided it wouldn’t be best in the rain so we waited for the next day. And that day happened to be the LONGEST and BEST day ever. The word of the day was “Stairs”… we had to have climbed thousands of stairs before we bid that day adieu. We started with a hike to a church that sits on hill that overlooks Paris… and that was a lot of stairs. Then we went to feed birds in front of the Notre Dame… the birds…especially the pigeons… really really …really liked Greg. He couldn’t get them off at one point. I was laughing so hard I was crying. After that we cleaned up and went to the Louve.

That is when I saw it. Let me give you a little premise as to why I wanted to come to Europe so badly. When I was 7 years old, my mom noticed that I had an artistic side to me that she felt needed to be cultivated. However, all the art classes for children my age she felt wouldn’t do the trick. So she enrolled me in a college level acrylics class that met in the basement of an old pottery store. The teacher at first was not going to let me join since I was so young, but after my mom showed her some of the things I had drawn, she allowed me in. The class was exactly what I needed to instill in me many of the artistic techniques that I still use and also much of the knowledge of art that I have today. We would watch documentaries about Da Vinci, Michelangelo, Raphael, Picasso, Van Gaugh, Diego Rivera… all the big names in the art world. As I watched these documentaries, I dreamed of seeing their work with my own eyes. I have seen Diego Rivera’s work a few times when I was in Mexico City con mi familia… and I have seen Van Gaugh and Picasso with my Uncle John, or as many of you know him, “LA Uncle.” But there were a few works that cannot be easily toured around the world… like Michelangelo’s Sistine Chapel or Da Vinci’s Mona Lisa. I remember as we were walking through the Louve and I saw the huge wall with all the people gathered around, my heart stopped. I made my way to the front and there she was. You hear stories about what the Mona Lisa looks like in real life… some people are impressed, some people are disappointed. I was not anywhere near disappointed. I will never forget that moment.

We weighed the option of looking through the Louve some more or making it to the top of the Eiffel tower and decided to go hang out with the ET. Again… word of the day… stairs. The sun was setting when we made it to the top. Deep reds and blues that I had never seen so beautifully painted in a sky before. I was so happy to be at the exact place where my closest and dearest friend Rachel Adams was asked to become Mrs. Rachel Jenkinson. It was the perfect spot. Nice job Andy ☺. We had to have been there for hours before we decided we’d better go before the metros close. A perfect day.

The next day was Notre Dame time. Ok, this thing… this thing is MASSIVE. I’m a stained glass window fan, always have been. Definitely got some nice stained glass windows up in there. It’s been great having a travel partner… and only one. I’m used to traveling alone so it has been a bit of an adjustment… but as most of you know, Greg is one of the most easy going guys around so he has been patient with me ☺. The fact that it is just two of us has made getting around and doing things way easier and I feel like we have been able to do more than most. We explored the Hunchbacks old stopping grounds for about an hour and then gathered our belongings, stationed ourselves at an internet café for a couple hours, then we got on our overnight train to Roma.

Here are some pictures from our French escapades:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2059502&l=89dce&id=56904185

Rome. I really like it there. Food… Oh man they have this one spicy salami pizza. Heaven. I’m in Heaven. People… fantastico! Scenery… eh it’s a city so its not my cup of tea when it comes to breathtaking beauty but it is definitely made better with the little Italian grandmas running around. Our first day there we tried to recover from the last week so we took it easy, checked out the Trevi fountain, and got some dinner. Second day we walked EVERYWHERE and did EVERYTHING there was to do in Rome, save the Sistine Chapel. My… feet… hurt.

You know those days where you know one of your dreams is about to come true… you don’t really know how to prepare yourself. That was the day we went to the Vatican. I was about to see Michelangelo’s greatest masterpiece. I remember one of the movies that we watched in my art class when I was a kid was on the Sistine Chapel and the toll that it took on Michelangelo’s life. So much of him went into that ceiling. It wasn’t a very nice story of how it came into fruition, but his legacy will live on forever through this work of art. The walk to the chapel was a never ending maze of breathtaking artwork and sculptures. I saw Raphael’s School of Athens, another work and artist I have longed to see. Each corner I turned expecting to see where God’s finger meets mans, but it never came. Then finally, I saw a door and as I started to walk through, I let out a gasp as my eyes followed up the walls and settled in the middle where the poster of the painting that has been hanging in my room for years was taken from. My mouth dropped open and stayed open… probably because its hard to look up for so long without that happening, but mostly because I couldn’t believe that I was ACTUALLY there, standing and looking at one of the most influential works of art in my life. THE Sistine Chapel. We stayed for hours. Dream come true.

Little side note, the night before this, I was asleep and was woken up by a voice that said “I’m thirsty.” I was a little freaked out at first because I was fast asleep and it was loud enough to wake me up and I couldn’t fall back asleep. I poked by head out of the room and there was no one there. I did what I always do when I wake in the middle of the night and I can’t sleep, I said Jesus over and over again, until I drifted off. Always works. The next day I was telling Greg about it and I had a flashback to Kolkata when I was by Mother Teresa’s tomb and I read that she heard Jesus say, “I thirst.” The thirst of Jesus, his thirst for love and for souls, explains the mission of Mother Teresa. She wrote in her Spiritual Testament that everything about the Missionaries of Charity is intended to quench the Thirst of Jesus. As Mother Teresa stated, “As long as you do not know in a very intimate way that Jesus is thirsty for you, it will be impossible for you to know who He wants to be for you, nor who He wants you to be for Him.” Now, I haven’t really prayed about or thought about what this means in my life and if it is truly a significant moment… but I know that I felt confused by the whole experience until it clicked and I was reminded of what I learned in Kolkata last summer about that little, extraordinary nun and her relationship with Jesus. I guess I have a lot more thinking and praying to do.

Ok, back to my story. We explored the Vatican some more and then went to Saint Peters Cathedral. Beautiful church, sad story though. From what I overheard from one of the tour guides (it was either money for food or tour guides, we went with food), Saint Peters was built to unite the church but it ended up causing more division because it cost so much that that’s when they started indulgences. The rest of the night we explored Rome, ate at our favorite local restaurant, and took some fun Coliseum pictures.

We were up late that night packing and the next morning I woke up with a start and a feeling that Greg may have not woken up to the alarm. And I was right. I woke up 20 minutes later than we had planned so I went and woke that kid up, we packed up, and off to our train to the coast of Italy we went. Greg said we were taking a ferry to Greece. I was like, sweet, a ferry… I like the water, always have, Mediterranean Sea… should be fun. As we were walking to our port, Greg points to our ferry, “There it is, the SUPERFAST.” This thing had to be 12 stories tall. It was like a cruise ship. I was like, “Um, YES.” We spent the rest of that day on the deck reading and playing cards and watched the most amazing sunset. That’s where I am right now, in the little coffee shop area on the ship, writing you all, missing you all, and loving all the Greek language I hear being spoken around me, remembering the words from the two summers I spent in this lovely country. I cannot believe I’m going back. We are going to be working with the same ministry that I interned with for the next couple days. I am so excited to be reunited with everyone again. I am also excited to see some of the same women that I had developed friendships with… but at the same time it breaks my heart because that means if I do see them, that they are still stuck in a life of prostitution or trafficking and have not been able to get out. It’s been two years since I have walked the red light districts of Athens. Only God knows what He has in store at this point of our journey. I am so eager to learn and to see what that is.

Much love,
Rebecca

Here are the pictures of our time in Roma:
http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=2059619&l=45fd3&id=56904185

Give my mom a hug when you see her and let me know how you all are doing!

Still no waffles...

2008-06-25T14:38:00.000-07:00

What can I say about Belgium? Well… I was told today that there is an old saying that Belgians are born with a brick in their stomachs. I was like, “Yes… right… hmm.” Later they explained that it meant they love to build houses. It is every Belgians duty to marry and build a home for their family or restore an old one. And everyone is married, and they get married young! Phil told me today that the average English family changes homes every 2.5 years… the average Belgian family… 35 years. They love sausage and they make sausage out of every kind of meat you can imagine (I saw donkey sausage at a market the other day) and they love beer. We went to a pub called “Kingdom of Heaven” (I kinda wish I was joking about the name) and there was a menu with 16 pages front and back size 10 font of beers. It gets dark at 11pm (or 23:00) here… which makes it hard to fall asleep but is great for reading outside for hours. The language is very hard for me to pick up. The khtsh sound gets me every time. The Belgians, at least the ones I have come across, seem like a very content and hospitable people.

My days have their busy moments and their rest filled moments here in this tiny country. I am adjusting to the Belgian way of life quite well. I wake around 7 every morning, catch a train with Phil to work which is about 45 minutes away in Hasselt, walk another 30 to the office, start work at 9 and leave by 5, walk back to the station, ride the train home, have dinner with the family, then the kids are off to bed and its grown up time where Phil, Rachel and I either catch up on our days or on some reading. Here are some more snaps of those triple B’s (Beautiful British Babies).

Phil had to go to England for Stop the Traffik business so I stayed with Naomi and Andy, a sweet little newly wed Belgian couple who are a mix between Rachel and Andy Jenkinson and Josh and Allison Chambers. They have been so welcoming and helpful and it has been a blessing to get to know these two. Here are some snaps from my time with them.

Now, when I go to the office, there are a few things that I am working on with Stop the Traffik. One is graphics, mainly posters and various other awareness spreading literature. Another is Serve the City which is a week long effort where various church and community members volunteer in certain projects around the city (http://www.servethecityleuven.info/HOME.html). Stop the Traffik is partnering with Serve the City to spread awareness about Human Trafficking. I thought Phil was joking when he said I would be the coordinator for this… I laughed, but my American sense of humor was off and he was being serious… those Brits. Another job of mine is to help with the planning of a peaceful protest against the chocolate industry in Louven and Brussels. It’s a long story, but basically the chocolate industry promised by July 1, 2008 to, “develop and implement credible, mutually-acceptable, voluntary, industry wide standards of public certification, consistent with applicable federal law, that cocoa beans and their derivative products have been grown and/or processed without any of the worst forms of child labor.” Despite what the industry says, they have not come anywhere near meeting these standards. Unless they can guarantee that our chocolate is not made from beans picked by trafficked children, then no real progress has been made. The Industry must be able to tell people which farms the beans are from and must guarantee no trafficked labor. We are going to gather July 1st, which is the day the chocolate industries will announce that they have kept their promise, and make sure that it is known that we will not just stand by and allow these fabrications to continue to be publicized and for 12,000 children to be enslaved in the cocoa farms of Cote D'Ivoire (The Ivory Coast). This is where we are going to have the protest in Louven.

There is this big advocacy strategy that Phil came up with that has to do with cows… so that explains the cow mask. More on that later.

I have been having|making a lot of alone time to process and reflect on my life and the direction it is headed. The extra time has been a blessing and somewhat irritating at the same time because it is forcing me to come to terms with a lot of things that I have been avoiding or running from as of late. I am coming face to face with myself. I looked in the mirror today and starred for a while. I tried to get past using what I always use the mirror for, to spot out the flaws and try and either fix them or ignore them. Today… today I just starred at me. This is who I am. I need to be comfortable and confident in the fact that I cannot change who I am, but I can improve. I also desperately need to get past myself and think of the “others.” The others in this world that hardly get thought of. I want to have other people be my concern, not myself. I want to have the needs of others be what I fulfill, not mine. I want to have my mind and heart be so in tune with God that all my thoughts have love and life in every beat. My journal has remained empty since I have arrived in Belgium. I just don’t know where to start. I am a bit frightened of what I have to say to myself because I know a lot of it is going to be painful and sacrificial… and I have a hard time giving up what I have because I am a selfish person. Today the thoughts and words flooded my mind and I am finally going to pick up that journal and let it flow. This is definitely going to be a journey. I have no doubt that God is orchestrating all that is happening over here and I thank you all so much for your encouragement, love, and prayers. Please check out the Stop the Traffik website (stopthetraffik.org). See in what ways you can start taking ownership and responsibility on your own part to STOP human trafficking. I love you all so much!! Please give my mom a hug when you see her… she already did some laundry that I left out after packing “So that it is ready for my when I get home.” It has only been 14 days. Oh Baba!

Love love love,
Becca

Then Doug said, "Enjoy the waffles. Get it? Belgium... waffles."

2008-06-18T11:54:00.000-07:00

Bonjour mes chers amis! Incase you were worried whether I made it to Belgium or not, you may sleep soundly now because I am here in my new home in the city of Tienen. The journey here was not an easy one. I slept two hours the night before I left, woke up with just enough time to finish packing and head to church. After church we made a quick exit and headed to the airport. It was hard to say goodbye to Sable and my mom, but it is getting a little bit easier. That is not to say that I am going to miss them any less, I think I am just becoming more and more comfortable with the independence and separation that comes with the life of a traveler. The flight was very unpleasant. It had nothing to do with the airlines and all to do with the fact that I could not find any comfortable position… even with my Yoga training. London was not too hard to navigate through. I found the Underground easily and struck up a conversation with a young man who I figured was from California (the big UCLA across his chest was a dead giveaway). I found the train station, scrounged up some pounds to get a sandwich, then sat down outside in the sun and had lunch. The station was beautifully constructed and was a good place for people watching.

I thought that going under water in a train would have been more exciting but there is nothing but a black tunnel to be seen out the window. I guess you have to use your imagination. I obviously wasn’t feeling very creative because I fell asleep in England and woke up in Belgium. When I arrived I was feeling a bit delirious with the sleep deprivation which made it difficult to find my next train in the busy Brussels station. I got on the train that I had the best feeling about and luckily I was right.

I got off in Tienen, met Phil Lane, and we headed off through the Belgium countryside to my new home. The family that adopted me for these next three weeks is a beautiful bunch of Brits who drink tea every 4 hours and used to live in India but now reside in Belgium. There is Phil who is one of the creators of Stop the Traffik. He has an amazing (British) sense of humor and makes the long walks to and from work even harder because I am trying to catch my breath from laughing and speed walking. He is an Oxford graduate and is an encyclopedia of knowledge when it comes to global issues. I am learning so much from his life experiences and we get along really well. Rachel is the mum. She is a beautiful woman who has a huge heart and is an amazing cook. She and I hit it off right away. She always has a smile on her face. I’m finding myself starting to think in a British accent. They have three boys, Sam, Peter and Toby. The YouTube video “Charlie Bit Me” reminds me of Peter and Toby (http://youtube.com/watch?v=_OBlgSz8sSM). Those little cuties with their British accents are going to have the girls chasing them. Today they brought home three ladybugs and named them Flip, Becca and Samwise Gamgee. However, don’t let those adorable accents fool you. Phil said over dinner as they were putting lettuce in their water and throwing corn at each other, “See, this is why Jesus didn’t have any kids.”

I will write more about what exactly I am doing with my internship soon. I am pretty excited. Lets just say it has something to do with coordinating a massive public protest against the chocolate industry in the next couple weeks… more to come on that. Here are some pictures from my neighborhood. I’ve been taking walks every day that have been lasting a couple hours so you may be in for a lot of pictures of Tienen in the near future. Much love to you all! Remember, if you see my mum, give her a BIG hug and tell her I’ll be fine. If you have Skype, you betta find me: MsBeccaPratt@gmail.com. Oh, and here is the website for the organization I am interning with http://www.oasistrust.org/world/countries/Belgium/. Take care! Au revoir!

The Road Is Life

2008-06-11T17:24:00.000-07:00

Too often travel, instead of broadening the mind, merely lengthens the conversation. | E. Drew

One's destination is never a place, but a new way of seeing

things. | H. Miller

Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines, sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover. | M. Twain

All journeys have secret destinations of which the traveler is unaware. | M. Buber

A journey of a thousand miles must begin with a single step. | L. Tzu

Not all those who wander are lost. | JRR Tolkein

To travel is to discover that everyone is wrong about other

countries. | A. Huxley

Adventure is a path. Real adventure - self-determined, self-motivated, often risky - forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind - and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever be black-and-white. | M. Jenkins

These are my last nights in my familiar bed stateside until October. As usual before I embark on my adventures I have no words to describe how excited, thrilled, timid and hopeful I am. But the words will come. The plan thus far is to fly to London, navigate through the Underground to the train station, Chunnel my way to Belgium where I will be picked up and brought to my new residence. I will be living with Phil, the Director of Oasis Belgium, and his wife Rachel. In Belgium I will be interning with Phil and the staff as part of the Stop the Traffik Chocolate Campaign (http://www.oasisbe.org/EN/aboutus.htmh). My internship ends July 7th, and hopefully that is when, if all goes according to plan, I will meet up with Mr. Gregory David Reynolds and we will travel Belgium, France, Italy and then volunteer with Neo Zoi (where I interned the two summers) in Athens, Greece until July 23rd. Our journey will end in London where I will bid adieu to Greg and train with the UK Oasis team and then go to Mumbai and Bangalore, India to work in various projects that are connected with Stop the Traffik. The last week of August, my dear friends Christopher Heintz and Scott Haskins will meet me in Bangalore, and we will travel to Darjeeling and then to Kolkata. There I will stay with my host family from last year, as well as intern with a few organizations that I am connected with, and fall in love with Kolkata all over again. There is a potential Taj Mahal trip... I'm determined to see it this time. I will be back in October. Your prayers are most welcomed. I will write to you all as my world changes. You all hold a special place in my heart. Tot ziens, au revoir, ciao, adio, namaste, and goodbye.

2007-08-07T22:55:00.000-07:00

Ok, well... here’s a picture of Shelby and I before... and while we still look the same... her at least (India has taken a toll on me physically... as my mom tells me all the time, “Come home so we can put you back together again”... I CANT WAIT TO SEE HER!! But I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE INDIA!! and I digress...) while Shelby and I are still the same two laughing girls that left California in search of.. something, I think our time here has revealed to us more about who we are rather than changed us. Sure there are things that have changed, some things have been refined, and many things still have to be refined, but I believe we have discovered more of our identity and responsibility as Christ followers... and all that fails in comparison to all God is doing here and continues to do here. I don’t have time to go into all that has happened as of late, but I can tell you that my heart will break when I leave this place. These are some pictures from my Aunties birthday and when we took her and my host brother to celebrate outside of the city to seaside (Digha)... first time she has left Kolkata in 15 years! It was also the first time I had left the crowded city life since I have been here and was very much needed. ps you can click on the snap to make it bigger.. bc they are kinda tiny.

candids and not so candids

2007-07-24T01:36:00.000-07:00

choice.

2007-07-16T00:30:00.001-07:00

15 July 2007; t-minus one month

I am going to do my best in to fill you all in on some of what has been going on. Since returning from that memorable trip to New Delhi, I have been having very long days, filled with work, play, smiles and tears. I have become quite accustomed to the constant conflict that I feel in my heart and in my mind about what I am confronted with and experiencing over here. Even while this world around me is unpredictable and unreliable, I am finding that I deeply desire and am needing to have my stability be in Christ and Christ alone. I cannot be driven by the need; I need to be driven by my God.

I will never know where life is going to take me, nor can I change where I have been; but I have the opportunity to choose. I have always been too concerned about what everybody would think, and I know that that will always be a struggle; but I cannot live for everybody, I have to live life for me. I’ve been through some painful things that I thought I would never make it through. I was filled up with shame and doubt that I was sure would never leave. I’ve put myself in so many chaotic circumstances. But by the grace of God I’ve been given so many second chances.

Today I decided to let it all go; I’m dropping all these bags I’m making room for my joy! I release the guilt I feel about how things have been because life is going to do what it do. And today I have the opportunity to choose. I’ve reached a fork in the road of my life; nothing is going to happen unless I decide. And I choose to be all that God desires for me to be. I choose to be authentic in everything I do. My past does not dictate who I am. I choose. Please pray for wisdom and direction in my choices and in my life, and that God will be in control of it. I am having an extremely hard time letting Him take control of that which I dont want to let go of. But I know I have to let go. And its a daily choice.

I recently received the most encouraging email from my dearest and closest friend that has been a real inspiration and encouragement to me. I feel that these words will inspire and encourage you as well. She wrote:

“Sweet love, Romans 8:38-39, ‘And nothing will ever separate you from my love again.’ While a man's love can be fleeting, leaving the wounded strewn in a cloud of dusty memories with a heart scraped and penetrated by shards of words, the sweet love of the one Man who's love is endless and embrace inescapable, this true love does not know how to run or abandon...He weeps with you sweet one. When He knows your tears have run dry and you've no words left to say, when He knows its time for Him to move forward from being the listening ear and warm arms to being the directing voice and steady hands, He will help you to rise up. He will help you to walk Love's road. He will help your wounds to heal while He sings beautiful songs of rejoicing and victory over you dear Rebecca. He is with you dear one.”

On Saturday an extremely hard day, ending with a walk through Sonagacchi, one of the largest red light districts in Asia. Indeed, the words ‘struggle’ and ‘hardship’ hardly seem appropriate to describe the scale of the injustice meted out on so many by an unforgiving fortune. Let me paint you a picture:

The electricity was out in much of the area because of all the new development that is happening in Kolkata causing a shortage. I was taken by Kerry Hilton, co-founder of Freeset and resident of Kolkata for over 8 years, through a small alley way that led to the main road known as Sonagacchi. It was dark and it was filthy. Just on the walk there I passed over a hundred women, their faces painted with makeup. I was warmly greeted by the women, many of whom were frustrated that I did not speak Bengali because they wanted to talk to me but were greatly amused when I did try because my pronunciation is horrid. We reached the main road, Kerry keeping a close eye on me for protection, but I knew I wasn’t the one that needed the protection. These women were the ones that needed protection, these little children who were running through the streets, they needed the protection. As we walked, I was soon confronted with the hot stench of the ceaseless mobs and trash filled streets with women literally lined up shoulder to shoulder, hundreds of them, which is why they refer to going into the sex trade in Kolkata as joining the line. 20,000 men a day go through the Goch, taking their pick of the 6,000-10,000 women that work in this area (it’s hard to get the exact stat, but it is between 6 and 10). This place reeked of desperation, of tangible need, of despair, of lust, of greed, of all-too-real, honest-to-god, life-or-death reality. The hundreds of women that I passed were only the ones that I could see. We passed by brothels that Kerry said had some 400 women inside. They were so young, they were children. I tried to smile at every one, making eye contact, giving the traditional Bengali greeting with my hands held together in front of my face as if saying a prayer. I felt strangely numb to the whole experience. It did not feel real. How do I make it real? This is how I make it real. Stop reading this if it is too real for you.

One night I was in Downtown Ventura with the usual crowd, getting some Starbucks, catching up on all that I missed while I was away that semester. It was a great time, as it always is, being surrounded by those that have known me for so long and I have such a great history with. I left that night feeling encouraged and joyful, having laughed and snorted the whole night. One of the boys offered to walk me to my car, but I refused because it was not that late and it is just Ventura, nothing bad would happen. As I turned the corner to head to my car, I saw the man that I thought I had seen following us the whole night. I quickly head to my Saturn, but before I can make it he overpowers me and knocks me out. When I wake up, I am in a small crate, chained, in complete darkness. I slip in and out of consciousness due to the blow to my head. After what feels like days I am taken out from the crate, bruised, soar, and starved. For weeks they feed me next to nothing, leaving me for days at a time locked up with no light except for that which tries to come through the crack of the door. All I can do is weep. All I want is to be with my mom. Then it happens. They drag me out, drug me and rape me, initiating me into the line. They brutally force me to have sex with strangers for weeks, breaking my spirit and my heart, making it so there is not a sliver of hope left inside me. Every day my head is pounding and every second I am alone I weep. I am nothing more than an object, and am forced to try and sell myself so that that night I am not tortured, or worse. I have no idea where I am, I am not allowed outside, and I do not know the language that is being spoken around me. The only English words I can understand are slut and whore; that is all they call me, and I feel that that is what I am now. I am filled with shame and sorrow. This is my life. Isolated, alone, my world before this a distant memory that I try so desperately to forget because I know I will never be able to have that again. I will never see my mom again. I will never see my family again. I will never wake up in my bed again. No one will find me. No one cares for me. My body may be alive, but I am dead inside. Night after night I stand in a line, praying.

This is a raw reality. In the words of Filipina activist, Maria Castaneda: As long as a woman can be bought or sold, no woman is free. It could have been me, and if it was me, I would be praying that someone would try to do what they could to save me. What if it was you or your sister or your mother? We do not serve a domesticated God. We serve a God that parts seas, that raises the dead, that sent His Son to save all of mankind, that loves unconditionally and detests injustice. I’m tired of telling God that I can’t. I have been such a wreck lately, feeling pain and confusion that I have not felt so intensely since my father past away. I desperately need God. We desperately need Him, because there are those that desperately need God working through us, otherwise there is no hope. There is no earthly thing that can be done because it will only be temporary. Only God can eternally change this world. And we can only do it with His strenght, it cant be done on our own. I pray just as Paul did that we will understand the incredible greatness of God’s power for us that believe in Him. And it is not an overnight thing, it is a process. I do not understand anything that is going on right now. I have no peace and I feel like I am on an emotional roller coaster 24/7, questioning everything and screaming inside... and it is good. I need to see these ugly things inside so I can get rid of them, to allow God to weed them out of me and refine me, and to move forward. I have to make the choice today. Please take a moment, heck, take an hour or three days, whatever you feel led to do, and pray for Sonagacchi specifically. Then, open yourself to pray for whatever the Lord lays on your heart to pray. Think about your life and where it is headed, pray about it. As we are told in Ephesians 5:16-17 “Make the most of every opportunity in these evil days. Don’t act thoughtlessly, but understand what the Lord wants you to do.” It is so real here, guys. There is such immense evil and injustice... but we serve the one who is the definition of Good and Right and True and Just. Lead a life worthy of your calling, for we have been called by God (Ephesians 4:1).

Please give my mom a hug for me :). I miss each and every one of you. Let me know how I can be praying for you. I am serious. When I pray for you guys, I feel closer to home. Let me know. Blessings and much love from India!

planes trains and traveler vans

2007-07-08T02:21:00.000-07:00

29 June 2007

Well well well. This has been by far the craziest adventure. As I sit here on our little Sahara Airlines flight back to Kolkata staring at the sea of neon lights that is New Delhi, it is sort of a surreal moment. Maybe it's the fact that I am half way around the world experiencing life in a way that I never have before, or maybe it’s the fatigue from waking up at 4:00 am and traveling all day, only to learn that our flight was delayed. If you are looking for a good time, steer clear of the Delhi Airport... no good times can be had there. So, now that you know the ending of this story, let me take you to the beginning... which all began five days ago with another Becca moment.

It all started out as a typical moment by moment scheduled, air conditioned, guided tour of one of the seventh wonders of the world, the Taj Mahal. Everything was set, group was assembled, train tickets were purchased (you may be thinking, "Becca, train tickets? I thought you just said you were on a flight back to Kolkata?" Don't worry, I'm getting to that part), hotels were booked... we were excited. So basically, there was a mix up in communication, and I was under the impression that the train left at 4:55 in the afternoon... oh no no no. It indeed left at 13:55 (aka 1:55 for all of you that don't work on the Navy base like Greg). Literally at 1:55 I showed the tickets to my host brother to see where exactly it was that we went when we get to the station and he said, "Shat man! It is leaving right now!!" So at the speed of a Kolkata taxi (which is very, very fast, mind you) we headed to the train booking department to try and get a refund on our tickets. After much deliberation between the ticket teller and my host brother Sudip, we learned that we would not be refunded for the ticket for the way to New Delhi, and we would only be refunded for half of the ticket back. Needless to say, we were bummed and I felt horrible. So Sudip and I spent the rest of the day searching though Kolkata for the cheapest flights possible, making phone calls to everyone he knew within a half a days drive from the Taj, just trying to get us there in some way or another. Many phone calls and travel agencies later, we devised a plan. We would leave two days later on an overnight train, see a city tour of Delhi, visit Jaipur, and then end with a sunrise and a up-close and personal with the Taj Mahal. That was the plan...

So the train ride was most definitely the best mode of transportation I have been on yet. Sleeping on the train was fun at first, but the constant hum and squeaks of the tracks aren't the best lullaby... but can be slept through. The real problem was those sharp turns. It was a nice time though; I needed to get out of that city desperately and see some of the beauty of India.

We arrived at Delhi and ba-dang it was hot (that badang goes out to Team Refugee '05). It was like 115 degrees, had to be. We met our mode of transportation, a sweet 80's Traveler, complete with nine seats and a couch in the back that fit all eleven of us. We visited a few historical sights of Delhi, the most memorable of them for me was the grave of the Father of India, Mahatma Gandhi. You get a different picture of the man as you stand in front of his tomb; no longer is he a cool quote that you can get on a coffee mug as Starbucks, but the revered Father of a beautiful nation that taught humility, freedom and honor for all. It really impacted me, just as it hit me as I sat before the tomb of Mother Teresa; two of the most radically influential people of this century.

After seeing the sights of Delhi, we took off for Jaipur, another city that has historical significance in India's vast history. Ok, let me describe to you what an experience it is to drive in India. First of all, they do it like the Brits, driving on the opposite side of the road, which at first took some getting used to... but that was nothing compared to the indi-car driving style, no lanes, and a car horn is needed to be sounded at least every 3 seconds to announce its presence to the rest of the road. There were many times I was sure we were going to hit some poor chap or have the Traveler roll over a few times, but the drivers here know how to handle themselves, and God definitely has, did, and will continue to protect us. The drive took about 6 hours, which put us into Jaipur at around 1:00am. We checked into our hotel, which I will not go into the conditions of because I know my mother and grandmother will be reading this. Side note, I miss my mothers potato soup, my grandmothers pop-corn and diet coke, and I am craving Mexican food, In n Out, oh my goodness a good salad, Fuji apples and Snickers (Shelby, that is all you! Where there is a will, there is a way. I believe in you!!).

Up and Adam! Five in the morning we arose from our slumber and hit the town. We went to the Astronomical Observatory, which has all the old structures that they would use way, way, way back in the day to tell the time, seasons, etc. and to read the stars (sorry Corey, it blew the Griffith Observatory out of the water). We went in some palaces, ran into some snake charmers, and spent the remainder of our time exploring a huge fort, the equivalent of Helms Deep in Lord of the Rings except Indian style (yes, I did make a reference that fantastic trilogy; it was needed). We ended our time in Jaipur with an Elephant/Camel ride. I went for the elephant... those thangs look a lot different and way more intimidating as you try to climb us the side of their body. Three of our girls got attacked by one of the camels while they were riding it. I looked back just in time to see this nasty, foaming at the mouth camel head swinging back, desperately trying to get one of Ms. Holly's limbs. That makes animal number two that has went for a bite of the group; one of them succeeded and Rhoman still has the scar of that monkey bite. Following that we were back in the Traveler bound for Agra, home of the Taj Mahal. We learned that the Taj Mahal was built at the command of Shah Jahan as a memorial for his wife (well, one of them); he wanted to be able to look from his palace and have something to remember her by. The story goes that after the Taj was built, Jahan had the hands of the designer cut off so he would never be able to build something as beautiful again for anyone else. The drive was definitely a few hours longer then I could handle, but the company was by far the best a girl could ask for. The driver would get a little sleepy in the later hours of the night so he would blast some traditional Hindi pop music, and the Traveler would instantly be turned into a Disco. It felt good to laugh from deep within, I haven’t for a while.

The drive there felt so surreal. It was as if the books/papers/conversations I had been reading/writing/having in the states about the third world were coming to life right outside the window. I wanted so desperately to stop the van and talk to the women I saw working in the fields or sitting on the road side. What were they thinking, what were they talking about, what was their life like? They lived in straw huts, walked miles for the days water, worked in the blazing heat of the day. I can only wonder what a life like that could be like. I am also wondering what part I play in their lives.

So lets just jump right into it: when we arrived in Agra, we were informed that since the Taj Mahal is associated with the Islamic faith, it is thereby closed on Fridays. Let me recap: we missed the train, its 115 degrees, we haven’t slept, we have traveled for hours and hours, and now we would not be able to see the Taj. But that did not dim the hopes of the young men on our team. They devised numerous plans, i.e. straight up breaking into the Taj, pretend to be famous soccer players and demand to enter, create a diversion, dress up as Muslims and waltz in, seduce the guards, just run in, tunnel, etc. It was now a mission. It is literally making me laugh as I type this. We traveled half way across India, a total of almost 32 hours of travel time, and the Taj Mahal was closed. That is classic.

We were up before the sun today (something that I am never fond of) determined to get a glimpse of this seventh wonder by any means necessary. We went to the front gate, sized up the guards, devised some game plans, then we were approached by a local that said that he would give us a full view of the Taj for a price. At this point, we were willing to try anything. So off we went, traveling outside of the enormous wall that separated us from the Taj. We got a few glimpses, all of which felt like I was starring at a huge obstructed photograph of the Taj, it felt so unreal. The guide led us through some of the surrounding town to one of his friend’s house where we asked permission to go on his roof. From there, we saw the Taj Mahal. Again, no photograph could capture its true beauty. Its architecture is so unique, so breathtaking, so romantic... and the size is unfathomable. That day could have been a disappointment, but I just saw it as a story that does not get told that often. And the company definitely made it a memorable and hilarious time.

After we took all the snaps we could possibly take of the so close, yet so far away Mahal, we rounded up our troop and headed for Shah Jahan’s palace, which was another huge fort that very much needed to be explored. There was such detail to every inch of that place. The drive to the airport was an exhausting one, and when we got there we had a few hours before our flight was scheduled to leave. And that brings us back to the beginning of this tale, the delayed flight. Overall I see this as a successful trip. Not many have a Taj Mahal experience as we did. And actually, I am in a way happy, because though I have stood outside of the Coliseum in Italy, I never had the chance to go in... much like the Taj Mahal. These are two places that I would one day like to return to and go inside with him.

Life lesson for this trip: no worries, be happy... wooooo ooo ooooo oooo oooo no worries be happy. Everything is going to be okay. You can’t control life sometimes, but you can control how it controls you. So live it. Enjoy the moment. Smile as much as you can. You never know who it may cause to smile back.

New Delhi or Bust!

2007-06-22T23:29:00.000-07:00

I will be taveling for the next week to go visit the various sights of New Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. Please pray for our safety (terrorism, pit pocketing, etc.), health, for wisdom and an encouraging time. Here is something that I have been wrestling with as of late, among many others. Take care!

Things don’t always turn out the way we want them to. Life doesn’t always happen the way we want it to. I wonder how many times my life went the way that I didn’t want it to but it was actually the way that it needed to go. Many I’m sure. I guess that, no matter what, it is always the way that it should be because you cannot go back in the past and undue things... your life is what it is, the past cannot be changed, you only have control over your future. I love the saying that life can only be understood backwards but must be lived forward. Life, this precious gift, this fleeting moment that one day I will wake up and would have lived my life and what will I have to show for that life? When my life has run its course, what course did I choose to run? Would I have taken the path less traveled? Would I have entered through the wide gate and taken the broad road that many take, or would I have entered the small gate and the narrow road that few find? I met a couple the other day from New Zealand. They started an organization that makes bags that are sold globally and they employ only women who are on the line as prostitutes, offering them another means of making money with full benefits, giving them the choice to change what they had no choice but to do. They have lived here for years, she and he. I desire that; I desire to be a she with her he that live their lives together being used to shed light in the dark places of this world. When I look back on my life, I want to see God; I want to know that I chose Him every step of the way. I want to see that even when things didn’t work out the way I had planned and scheduled them to, my north star was still my Lord, the one that I used to figure out which direction to go. That is my prayer for you and for me.

"Take snaps Rebecca, take snap for your mummy."

2007-06-22T22:24:00.000-07:00

update shmupdates...

2007-06-06T06:59:00.000-07:00

4 June 2007

Well, so much has happened since we last spoke :). Sunday was an amazing time for me. The church that I attend is amazing... it reminds me of a little church that I went to in Oklahoma ;). The Lord has been showing me lately so many things that I have been putting before Him... and boy is there a lot. There was an amazing time of prayer where many things were made clearer to me... He showed me what to hold on to and what to let go, what to focus on and what to forget, what to strive for and what to steer clear from. That night I introduced myself to the youth pastor and asked if he would like some extra help for the next three months. So I am looking forward to getting to know them better and experience the youth group here in Kolkata.

Last Monday I moved in with the Das family, my new Bengali parents. They are the nicest, most hospitable people. I live a bus ride away from the hospital in a little two bedroom home (see above). Their house used to be a British compound when the Britishers were here and has now been their family home since the 1940's. I call my host parents Auntie and Uncle, which is a sign of respect, and am quickly becoming accustomed to their way of life. My Uncle is very protective of me; if it’s after dark he will "go by bus" to pick me up and bring me home and if I ever get proposed to, I have to call him and he will come and get me; he also always tells me to behave before I go out at night :). They are so welcoming when I get home, we all sit in the living room and talk every night and before I go to work every morning. My auntie is a sweet, lively woman who is always smiling and laughing. Oh my goodness, the food. I am going to put on at least 50 pounds. By Bengali standards, I am too thin. They keep on feeding me huge portions because if I don’t put on weight, my uncle said, "Your mommy will say that we didn't feed and take care of her daughter." Bengali food = amazingness. They grow a lot of their own fruits and vegetables, one of those being mango's.. yes that’s right, fresh mango's every night!! They have officially adopted me as their daughter, which is making the transition into this diverse foreign culture a more comfortable and comforting one.

It has been a blur of a week... so much has happened. A few highlights: Last week we met with the director of Sanlaap, which is a local government sponsored organization that works to get women out of prostitution and into better jobs. The meeting was very enlightening. They took us the next day to one of the safe homes they take children of prostitutes or children that are victims of human trafficking in order to keep them safe. There were about 130 kids there, age range 8 months to early 20's. At this safe house they have classes and work to make sari's (a type of clothing), handkerchiefs, purses, etc. which they then sell. There were so many beautiful children. The following day we went to a drop off center in a local red light district where children of the sex workers can come and get free education from 8 in the morning to 8 at night. It was called Samuah, which is Bengali for Possible. We got a chance to hang out with them for a while, I busted out my handy-dandy Lonely Planet's Hindi, Urdu and Bengali phrasebook and proceeded to make a fool out of myself with my attempt to speak Bengali. It started out with me just asking a few girls their names... and once they started laughing at my attempts, about 12 others showed up, circled around me, all trying to correct my pronunciation and laughing at my awkwardness. It was the best time. And the only possible thing that can come after a crash course in Bengali is, of course, the chicken dance. Doesn’t matter if you’re in Athens or Kolkata, the chicken dance is always a hit. The girls then taught us traditional Bengali dancing... yeah, it's official, no matter what country’s dancing I am trying to do, I am definitely lacking in the rhythm and coordination department.

Amitabh took us on a tour of his Kolkata... the Kolkata that we rarely see, down the side streets where all the cities poor have been pushed to in order to give the impression that there is less poverty, when it is only increasing. India is all about development, industrializing, restructuring. However the process that is being taken is essentially making the rich richer and the poor poorer. They are building more and more wealthier housing, which is pushing the slums farther and farther outside the city, which is in turn making it more and more expensive for the poor to commute to work. Naturally, they can’t afford it so they end up just living on the street, or in the alleys, or in their taxi's or in the trash dumps. The city is all about the development of India, yet the local water source is being polluted every day, carrying with it diseases and infections that are being inflicted on the poor as their only source of water and thus perpetuating poverty. I sat there at the waters edge, thinking about how much sewage was in there, how much trash had been dumped there, how many Hindu cremated bodies' ashes had been scattered there, how much waste was in there... and thought about if only this water could be cleaned... but how could that even happen? It's impossible. And thats just the tip of the iceburg. There is still so much for me to learn. My thoughts are in a billion places, trying to piece things together but I am still missing pieces. Hopefully things will get clearer the more I am exposed to this diverse culture.

The day before I left for Kolkata was Mothers Day. My family and I (My mom, my grandma, sable and my two uncles) went to brunch in Oxnard and of course, everyone had millions of questions. My uncle asked me if I had ever seen a dead body before. I couldn't figure out why he asked me that until a few days ago. Amitabh wanted us to see the real Kolkata, so he took my pasty self to a full blown Hindu crematorium where two bodies where about to be cremated. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, which was nearly impossible. The smell in the air was indescribable. Don't worry mom, I didn’t see the actual cremation, just the two individuals covered in white cloth. In the Hindu religion, fire is a God, and after death it is required that the body be burned.

Saturday we went to a ministry called At the Well which is an organization that visits women in the brothels and holds church services every Saturday for them and their children. It is very similar to the one that I worked with in Athens... almost identical :). We had an amazing time of worship and teaching, followed by us praying for the children and women individually. I met a few women from Nepal... wonderful girls. I can’t wait to get to know them better. Sunday I met up with some friends from APU that will be here until late July. It was nice to see some familiar faces.

I went to coffee with two girls that I had met when I first came to Kolkata. They are both 23, one works as a fashion designer and the other works at a call center. One thing that I have learned during my traveling is it doesn’t matter what country you are in... boys are all the same and girls love to talk about them. And it’s always the same things, just different circumstances. I guess men will be men regardless of their nationality :). And men do make for some funny and interesting cross cultural conversations. Next Sunday we are going for a girls night out to go see Pirates of the Caribbean.

Sorry for the play by play of my time here with little reflection. Most of my processing and praying I am doing in my head and can’t quite figure out how to word it, but the words will come. I miss you all something fierce. There have been some new developments regarding a certain someone from the Ventura County area coming to stay with me here in Kolkata for the last month that I am here... so more on that later :). Alright, you all take care and give my mom and grandma a big hug when you see them!! Much love!! Feel free to let me know what you are all up to!!

snapshots of kolkata

2007-06-01T21:56:00.000-07:00

"India is the world's most ancient civilization, yet one of its youngest nations. Much of the paradox found everywhere in India is a product of her inextricable antiquity and youth. Stability and dynamism, wisdom and folly, abstention and greed, patience and passion compete without end wthin the universe that is India. Everything is there, usually in magnified form. No extreme of lavish wealth or wretched poverty, no joy or misery, no beauty or horror is too wonderful, or too dreadful, for India. Nor is the passage to India ever an easy one for Western Minds." -Stanely Wolpert

"India pulsates, vibrates, scintillates with such a plethora of human, animal, botanical, insect, and divine life that no camera or recording device, no canvas, pen or cassette can fully capture the rich design of daily, 'ordinary' existence." - Wolpert

reality setting in

2007-05-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

“It’s no small feat to grasp what must be one of the cruelest paradoxes of our time: that we know more than ever before about the sufferings of the world, and yet find ourselves less and less able to affect them.” –Professor Slimbach

23 May 2007

It's easier to make them annoyances rather than human beings. It's easier to say that they will buy drugs with the money I would give them or it won't help them in the long run. It's easier to see them as the poor, the unfortunate... to ignore them and make them invisible or a faceless statistic. The children follow you for blocks, holding your hand and asking for money. Some will use it for food for their family, some will buy drugs, some will give it to their traffickers... if you look them in the eyes they become more persistent. If you ignore them, they tug at your shirt. If you tell them to leave, they won’t. If you put your arms around them, they reach for your purse. How can this be a life of a child? It's easier to ignore that question.. it's easier to become frustrated and annoyed and blame everyone but yourself... but that is not the answer. No, instead I pray. I pray because I don't know what else to do. I pray because I can't handle it. I pray because He hears me, and He sees them. I pray for these children, waking up day after day on the streets. Pray for these babies. These hurting, broken little ones. Lord, direct us how to pray for them. You know their needs, you know what needs to be done, you know everything. We ask you meet these children’s needs.

Today I helped at one of Mother Teresa's homes, Kalighat, which is the home for the Destitute and the Dying. Lord, give me the words. I walked in... about one hundred men and women, all lying on cots... all picked up from the street because they would have died had they not been brought there or they were brought there to die. All of them, half the size of me if not less. Literally skin and bones. Their faces worn by the sun and the harsh weather... their eyes searching for someone to listen, someone to touch them, to hold them and massage their aching muscles. I took one look at all those people, and I headed straight to the kitchen to wash dishes and do the laundry. I knew I was avoiding it... I wanted to avoid it. And I don’t know exactly how it happened... but I ended up on the floor next to a cot of a woman whose name I was never able to find out. I held her hand... half the size of mine, dry and tough from a life of hard labor... her head shaved, her eyes glossed over. She turned when she heard my voice.. she spoke but I couldn’t understand. I could see her heart beating through her shirt she was so thin. I rubbed her legs and her back and stroked her head. When she would look at me, I would look away. It was too hard. This was someone’s mother, someone’s sister, someone’s daughter, someone’s friend.. God's child. That could easily be my mother or my grandmother. This woman was once a baby.. was a child then a teenager, then a young adult like I am. Who knows what life she led that led her here.. but she did live. Things happened before she became bed ridden to this cot. So I stared back at this life. I would not look away, because Jesus would gaze back at her, Jesus would acknowledge her, Jesus would touch her and hold her. Oh, Lord it was so hard. It seems hopeless. Then Pastor Larry's favorite saying came to my mind, "But God..." But God will heal them, but God will bring His joy, His strength, His peace. But God will reveal Himself to them so they will live eternally with Him, feeling no pain or loneliness or rejection ever again. But God can do anything, because He is everything. Lord, bless those people that every day feed and clothe and bathe these women. Lord, fill that place with your joy, your peace, your strength. Provide for them Lord, both physically and emotionally. Be so evident to and in every person in that place. Hope, Lord... place a hope deep inside their heart that will not be wavered. Build up their spirits... encourage them and cover them with your protection. Thank you for what you have done, what you are doing, and what you are going to do in this city. Lord, thank you for life, this precious gift that I take for granted every day.

24 May 2007

Today, o man what a day. I was invited by one of the sisters from Mother Teresa's home to go and watch a final profession, which is where the novices commit their lives to the church and become nuns. What an experience. There were maybe 20 novices that were declaring that day to live a pure and holy life following only God and loving the poorest of the poor. They were committing their lives to God. They weren’t committing a spring break. They weren't committing a three month summer internship. They were willingly and openly declaring that they will live the life of a nun, seeing the things that no one wants to see, doing the things that no one wants to do, caring and loving those that people want to forget. The smell of incense was thick as I sat and watched, trying to process the whole ritual. The man that was leading the ceremony said that many profess religion, saying that they believe this and they believe that but they don’t act on what they say they believe. He encouraged the women, saying that they are not only professing, but they are living their beliefs in a total commitment. It was quite admirable. Sister Nirmala was there to welcome the women into the Missionaries of Charity.

Here are some words of inspiration from Mother Teresa:

"I will be a saint" means I will despoil myself of all that is not God; I will strip my heart any empty it of all created things; I will live in poverty and detachment. I will renounce my will, my inclinations, my whims and fancies and make myself a willing slave to the will of God. Yes, my children, this is what I pray for daily, for each one, that we may become a slave to the will of God.

My progress in holiness depends on God and myself -- on God's grace and my will.

The more you are intimately in love with Jesus, the more holy you will become. The more holy you become, the more you will be a channel of His love, compassion, and presence to the poor.

A Co-worker is a carrier of God's love and compassion to your family and to the Poorest of the Poor in the world. To be able to become a carrier of love we need to pray. Prayer strengthens faith. The fruit of faith is love, and the fruit of love is service. Prayer also creates a clean heart and a clean heart can see God. And if we see God, we will love one another as God loves each one of us.

Pray. Prayer makes miracles alive even in modern days.

Confidence in God can do all things.

Allow God to use you without consulting you.

God loved the world so much that He has sent His Son! Christ loves us and He has come to be His Father's love and compassion for us. Today God loves the world through you and through me and through all those who are his love and compassion in the world today.

Why did God make some of us men and others women? Because a woman's love is one image of the love of God, and a man's love is another image of God's love. Both are created to love, but each in a different way. Woman and man complete each other, and together show forth God's love more fully than either can do alone.

Only love and humility will conquer the world, the flesh and the devil.

Intense love does not measure, it just gives.

Give until it hurts with a smile.

What you can do, I cannot do and what I can do, you cannot do. But together, we can do something beautiful for God.

Only if there is peace in our hearts... can there be peace in the world.

Peace begins with a smile.

hello india

2007-05-21T06:28:00.000-07:00

before the 24 hours of travel...

after the 24 hours of travel...Kolkata . India

14 May 2007

After today I will never be the same. My heart is heavy... partly because I will miss those I left behind dearly, partly because of the unknown... and mostly because of the unavoidable upcoming reality of poverty and oppression that I will witness in its rawest form. I will be meeting those that have to think daily about how to survive. My heart is heavy. Heavy with the fear of losing the innocence and ignorance that I have become so accustomed to. I fear failure, I fear pain, I fear being alone, I fear change. Yet behind these fears is a small, confident voice saying I am never alone, there is always hope, with Christ nothing is impossible, and God is going to provide. I am relieved in a sense to leave my life as I knew it behind... to have this short yet seemingly long period of time away to find out who I am... or more importantly who I am in Christ. Away from distracting comforts and business, away from reminders of past failures and inadequacies, away from painful memories and things that I have been holding on to... away from life as I know it, or knew it. Though I dreaded going to India alone, I know deep in my heart that I am not alone... and probably the best way for me to discover that I am not alone is to go alone. The burden of my heart to go is louder than the fears in my head. I know there will be days when that will not be the case... when the fears seem to be overwhelming... but those, too, shall pass. And even when those times come, I am not alone.

21 May 2007

Where do I begin.. I guess the beginning would be best. After 24 hours of plane rides and lay-overs, I arrived in Kolkata, India at 5:30am Wednesday here, 5:00pm Tuesday where ya’ll are. I couldn’t see much outside the windows of the plane because there was a very thick layer of smog. As I stepped out of the doors I was instantly assaulted by the overpowering smell of a Kolkata morning – smokey and sweet and overripe and utterly foreign, with a promise of adventures to come. One of the hospitals staff, Orijeet Ghosh, picked me up from the airport and drove me to the hospital. My first experience of Kolkata was behind the windows of an air conditioned mini van, the smog and my fatigue giving everything a dreamlike quality, as if India had no edges and no point of penetration. Kolkata is uniquely beautiful... a place where photographs and films cannot completely capture the sensory overload. There are so many colors, so many people, so many emotions.

The rest of my first day was spent meeting people and getting familiar with the city. I spent the night at a hostel run by Orijeet’s auntie, my roommates being three beautiful young Bengali women, all in their early twenties, two of whom I have become quite close to. It was a rough first night... the city is loud and my room was right near the street. There is a never ending song of car horns, motors, crow calls, people chatting and the strategically placed call for prayer from the local mosque (which I actually find quite comforting). I woke up off and on, which will probably be common place for the next couple days.

A couple really amazing things have happened these past few days. The first one was the day after I got here, I went on rounds with the head nurse here at the hospital, Sister Zacharia, to become familiar with the six storied structure. We started on the sixth floor, where she took me into a room where there were three women, one in the hospital bed; they were dressed in white and blue trimmed sari’s, like the one that Mother Teresa wore. I figured they were from Mother Teresa’s Home for the Destitute and the Dying which is down the street from us. Everyone was acting very polite and all the focus was on the woman in the bed. The woman’s face looked peaceful and joyful without even making much expression. Sister Zacharia introduced me, telling her that I was visiting from California. The woman asked me how I liked Kolkata, I told here I love it, but I have only been here for a day. There was something about her, you could sense that she walked very very close with God. So humble and peaceful. When we left, Sister Zacharia told me that the woman was Sister Nirmola. After Mother Teresa past away, Sister Nirmola was the woman that took her place as head of Sisters of Charity. What a privilege that had been! The rest of the rounds were pretty emotional... so many hurting and broken. The staff here are amazing! I am excited to come alongside them. P.S. Shelby, you will absolutely love it here. And they desire to have nursing students come to visit. I’m just throwing that out there.

As of now, I am staying at the hospital until Wednesday, which is tomorrow, when I will move in with my host family, the Das family. I am really excited to meet them and feel honored that they are willing to adopt me for these next three months. I went exploring for the first time last Friday... got some coffee, read some books, watched some people. People watching is my favorite past time. There will be a lot of alone time for me on this trip, which is turning out to be a blessing. I was told that the first few weeks are the hardest and loneliest, which is proving itself true, but this loneliness and insecurity shall pass as I become more comfortable and familiar with India.

Being here in India I have realized how prideful and arrogant I am, let alone how stereotypically American I am. I knew this before about myself... but it is easily hidden behind complacency and familiarity at home... but when you travel and are out of your comfort zone, you become far more aware of them. I am praying for God to teach me humility, which I at first was afraid to pray and avoided praying because that involves me being humbled, which is usually a very embarrassing, humbling experience. But I know that my journey here is going to begin with humility.

On Sunday the three girls that I met at Vanguard’s Freedom Day came to the hospital. They are on the staff of the NGO known as Kids With Destiny. We discussed with Bonnie Buntain (the daughter of Mark and Hilda Buntain who founded the church and hospital here 50 years ago) the plans that Kids With Destiny is hoping to accomplish this summer in regards to opening two free health care clinics in the red light districts. Here is some information on Kids With Destiny:

India holds 40 percent of the worlds poor, and 80 percent live on less than two dollars a day. More than 2.3 million young girls and women are believed to make up India’s sex industry. Kolkata houses one of the largest red light districts, Sonagachi, which is said to hold over 7,000 sex workers. Only one group has a lower standing: their children. To reach these children we are faced with many obstacles; brothel owners, pimps, police, local politicians, and organized crime circles. To solve this problem Kids with Destiny's project to build two free health clinics in the red light will allow social workers to connect with the women and get their daughters out of the brothel before they are put on the line.

Kids with Destiny has partnered with Kids With Cameras and the creators of documentary Born Into Brothels to create a safe home, Hope House, specifically for the children of prostitutes from red light districts of Kolkata. Providing an opportunity for them to live, learn and have a childhood in peace and safety with hope for a brighter future. By 2008 Kids with Destiny will open up the home to 50 girls from the red light area, providing first rate education which will include an emphasis in the arts and career training. Psychological care and counseling will be an important element in the Home as a full time staff looks after the needs of each child. Along with the Hope House, Kids with Destiny is fundraising to construct two free health care clinics in the heart of Kolkata’s red light districts. These clinics will operate as a bridge between the red light district and the Hope house.

I’ll have more on this later on. Right now were still in the beginning stages. So those are my adventures so far. Thank you for reading and feel free to contact me and keep me updated on your life as well. I would love to hear what is happening for you all over there in California! Some prayer requests:

-Thank God for his provisions thus far and his provisions to come.

-Pray for the hospital staff, that they would be encouraged and God would continue to reveal himself to them.

-Pray for the Kids With Destiny project: that we would keep Christ the center and that God would give us wisdom and discernment on what his children really need.

-Pray for health.. I have a little bit of a cold and am feeling under the weather. But I am healed.

-Pray for God to continue to teach me and humble me.

Background Info on India

2007-05-08T17:50:00.000-07:00

I. Geography:

India lies in Southern Asia, bordering the Arabian Sea and the Bay of Bengal, between Burma and Pakistan (India, 2007). The area of India is slightly more than one-third the size of the United States, approximately 3.29 million square miles (India, 2007). Even though India only occupies 2.4% of the world’s land area, it supports over 15% of the world’s population (Background Notes India, 2007). The population of India is 1.1 billion, with 13.2 million living in Kolkata (Background Notes India, 2007). The climate varies from tropical monsoon in the south to temperate in the north (India, 2007). The lowest point is the Indian Ocean at 0 m and the highest point is Kanchenjunga, the third tallest mountain in the world at 8,598 m (India, 2007). The major natural resources are coal (fourth-largest reserves in the world), iron ore, manganese, mica, bauxite, titanium ore, chromite, natural gas, diamonds, petroleum, limestone, and arable land (India, 2007). The natural hazards of this region are droughts, flash floods, severe thunderstorms and earthquakes (India, 2007). The current environmental issues of India are “deforestation, soil erosion, overgrazing, desertification, air pollution from industrial effluents and vehicle emissions, water pollution from raw sewage and runoff of agricultural pesticides, tap water is not potable throughout the country, and the huge and growing population is overstraining natural resources” (India, 2007). The national capital is New Delhi, with a population of 12.8 million people (Background Notes India, 2007).

II. Economy:

India gets her money from “traditional village farming, modern agriculture, handicrafts, a wide range of modern industries, and a multitude of services” (India, 2007). Services are the main source of growth economically, making up more that half of India’s output and agriculture makes up about three-fifths of the work force (India, 2007). Agriculture makes up 19.9% of India’s Gross Domestic Product, industry 19.3% and services 60.7% (India, 2007). The labor force by occupation in agriculture is 60%, industry 12% and services 28% (India, 2007). The GDP (FY2005-2006) was $797 billion, with the per capita GDP being $761 (India, 2007). Approximately 25% of the population is below the poverty line (India, 2007). The primary agricultural products are rice, wheat, oilseed, cotton, jute, tea, sugarcane, potatoes, cattle, water buffalo, sheep, goats, poultry, and fish (India, 2007). The primary industrial products are textiles, chemicals, food processing, steel, transportation equipment, cement, mining, petroleum, machinery, and software (India, 2007). The leading exports for India are textile goods, gems and jewelry, engineering goods, chemicals, and leather manufactures (India, 2007). The export partners are the United States with 16.7%, UAE with 8.5%, China with 6.6%, Singapore with 5.3%, the United Kingdom with 4.9%, and Hong Kong with 4.4% (India, 2007). The leading imports are crude oil, machinery, gems, fertilizer, and chemicals (India, 2007). The import partners are China with 7.3%, the United States with 5.6%, and Switzerland with 4.7% (India, 2007). As of 2006 the exchange rate for the Indian rupee is 45.3 rupees per US dollar.

III. Religion:

India is one of the most religiously diverse nations in the world, with religion playing a central role in the lives of most Indians (Religion in India, 2007). India’s people are 80.5% Hindi, 13.4% Muslim, 2.3% Christian, 1.9% Sikh, 1.8% other and 0.1% unspecified as of 2001 (India, 2007). Hindu, being the majority of the countries religion, is considered one of the oldest religious and philosophical systems in the world (Religion in India, 2007). Deemed a way of life rather than a religion, Hinduism came out of the Indian subcontinent during 2000-1500 BCE (Religion in India, 2007). The word Hindu “derives from the Sanskrit, Sindhu, (the historical appellation for the river Indus), and refers to a person from the land of the river Sindhu (Religion in India, 2007). The followers of Hinduism accepted the title Hindu because Hind (India) is their Fatherland and Holyland (Religion in India, 2007). “Hinduism differs from many religions in not having a single founder, a specific theological system, a single system of morality, or a central religious organization” (Religion in India, 2007). The religion is “ideologically tolerant and inclusive” – traits which have made it possible for followers of Hindu to co-exist with other religions for the duration of its long history (Religion in India, 2007). The holy books of Hinduism are the Vedas (its foundation) and the Upanishads (Religion in India, 2007). Those who are not Hindi are known as “Nastiks” (Religion in India, 2007).

IV. Current Events:

The current situation of the trafficking of persons in India is huge. “India is a source, destination, and transit country for men, women, and children trafficked for the purposes of forced or bonded labor and commercial sexual exploitation” (Republic of India, 2006). Numbering in the millions, these “in-debt bondage” individuals face forced slavery in brick kilns, rice mills, and zari embroidery factories (India, 2007). Some children are forced to become domestic servants and many women and girls are trafficked for the purposes of commercial sexual exploitation and forced marriages (India, 2007). The Ministry of Home Affairs estimates are that 90% of sex trafficking in India is internal (Republic of India, 2006). India is the destination for women and girls from Nepal and Bangladesh trafficked for the purpose of commercial sexual exploitation (India, 2007). Also, boys from Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Bangladesh are trafficked through India to the Gulf states for forced slavery as child camel jockeys (Republic of India, 2006). “India has been on the Tier 2 Watch List since 2004 for its failure to show evidence of increasing efforts to address trafficking in persons” (India, 2007).

V. Languages:

Hindi is the national language and is spoken by 30% of the people (India, 2007). There are fourteen other official languages: Bengali, Telugu, Marathi, Tamil, Urdu, Gujarati, Malayalam, Kannada, Oriya, Punjabi, Assamese, Kashmiri, Sindhi, and Sanskrit (India, 2007). Due to the immense population of India, Hindi is one of the most widely spoken languages in the world, the second most spoken language in the world, with 333 million native speakers (Hindi, 2007). Because of the great similarity between Hindi and Urdu, those who speak these languages can usually understand each other as long as both sides do not use specialized vocabulary (Hindi, 2007). Linguists occasionally regard them as being part of the same language diasystem; however, Hindi and Urdu are socio-politically different, and those who speak Urdu would question being considered as native speakers of Hindi, and vice-versa (Hindi, 2007).