Theology 7372, Fall 2009

thank you, michael, for this glorious shot taken at sunrise

Really, all there is in Agra is the Taj Mahal and the Red Fort. Because when those two things are in a city, why would you focus on anything else? This post will be largely pictures. Also, the Taj is just as impressive as you think it is. There are things in life that are underwhelming because the hype overtakes the reality. However, the Taj is not one of them. It was incredible to stand there and gawk at the incredible structure. The detail is fantastic and the symmetry is striking.

We’re almost at the end of our recaps of India – only one city left, friends! Stay tuned for the last round of temples and forts: or, our time in delhi

This is the entrance gate to the Taj. Yeah, just the entrance.

THE TAJ MA-FREAKING-HALL! I happened to be walking in next to Stroope and I looked at him and shrieked. He just laughed.

Side view

Detail work on the Taj

These are the pieces that make up the detail work on the Taj. And each of those pieces are made up of several pieces. DETAIL.

What the Taj looks like backlit

Obligatory picture

Clearly, my turn

Me and Stroope

Architecture at Red Fort

Another shot taken by Michael on his early morning adventure

Me and Michael in front of the Taj

a view of the ghats of varanassi from the river

Varanasi, located on the banks of the Ganges River, is the holiest city in India. It’s regarded as deeply holy by Hindus, Buddhists and Jains and is one of the oldest continuously inhabited cities in the world. Varanasi is in the state of Uttar Pradesh and contains hundreds of temples to various gods in various faith systems. Those are some simple words to sum up one of the most chaotic and fascinating and frustrating and beautiful cities I’ve ever been to. There are hundreds of legends that surround Varanasi, and I’d encourage you to seek them out for yourself. (For instance, the creation of the Ganges as rivets of water flowing from Shiva’s hair is one of my favorite.)

I’ve struggled how to explain this city. I decided that instead of offering my traditional summary, I’d rely largely on the photo summary. Know that we were there for about three days and arrived and left by train. We took a boat ride down the river at sunrise and attended an evening worship service unlike I’ve ever seen. In our team language, Varanasi was the bottom of the Indian well. It was the place that the messes that come with Indian culture came up and demanded our attention in a way that hadn’t happened before. Plus, friends, it was HOT. We were hot everywhere, but Varanasi was like baking inside a humid oven.

My experiences in Varanasi will probably feature in my posts again, especially as I begin to understand how to describe it. In light of that, stay tuned for the final two summaries concerning Agra and Delhi.

How we arrived in Varanasi: night train from Calcutta to Varanasi. This is the compartment I shared with CJ, Katie and Kari.

CJ hangs over to her bed to watch Chef Kari make our snack

I love that the cow is sleeping right underneath the sign for the Internet cafe

Man sitting by the ghats

Me and my travel buddy Casey in the back our of cycle rickshaw

Clearly, I have no idea what this says. But this is what Hindi looks like.

Boy playing in the Ganges

The Ganges Arti is performed each night at the same ghat at sunset. It’s an amazing example of devotion and ritual that I was honored to experience. It’s also typically dichotomous. People sitting next to cows, mixed with child beggars and girls selling hand stamps, next to men selling Dora the Explorer blow-up toys and tourists with expensive cameras. All while the service is happening and the sun sets.

A large part of Hindu worship experiences is about getting the attention of the diety. Gongs are clanged, bells rung, insense burned, candles lit – it’s a completely visceral experience. So here’s a shot of the end of the arti, where the priest ritualistically throws flower petals in the air.

The Bodi Tree where Buddha received his enlightenment – located just outside Varanasi

Tibetan prayer flags hanging around the Bodi Tree

There’s a Jain temple located down the road from the Bodi Tree. Ask me about peacock feathers sometime.

Please remember that I love India when I say this : the three hours we spent on the Varanasi Train Station platform will rank as three of my least favorite hours of life. Hot, stuffy, rats, exhaustion…

Out of order, I know, but I wanted this to be your parting shot of Varanasi.

For the India class, I was assigned to present on the history of India. I always appreciate being able to see the context of a country into which I am entering, so I was jazzed to do the research for myself personally but especially excited to share it with the team. I wanted to share the same research with you. Once again, I’m placing a break here for those who aren’t into nerd parties.

This is absolutely, 100% a blow-by-blow. There are clearly THOUSANDS of years of history that I am casually dismissing with a pithy comment – especially since things happening before 1600 ACE are generally not my favorite to discuss. For anyone who wants to explore these topics further, I recommend A Traveller’s History of India and In Spite of the Gods: The Rise of Modern India.

India has been around pretty much forever. The argument can be made that it is, if not the oldest, then one of the oldest continual cultures in the world. By the time of the 6th century BCE, Indian culture was beginning to form to the point it is now. Hinduism was fairly settled and created an appropriate cultural climate for both Buddhism and Jainism to flourish. The continent was rocking steady, minding its own business (aka: it was full of kingdoms constantly warring for control of land, resources and people) when Alexander the Great burst onto the scene in 330 BCE. From this point onwards, Indian history is largely shaped by its interactions with outside cultures, countries and rulers.

Asoka: In order to understand Indian history, you have to know Asoka. Until the time of the British Raj, Asoka ruled over the largest portion of India of any other ruler – including Afghanistan, Pakistan and Bangladesh. He is credited with two major things: 1) propagating Buddhism and is largely credited with it’s spread and dominance throughout Asia and 2) cementing the rule of Dharma into the Indian culture. The empire he ruled, the Mauryan, eventually collapsed in 184 B.C.E and plunged India into fragmented confusion which lasted almost 500 years.

The Guptas: The Rule of the Guptas lasted for about 150 years and is regarded as the “Golden Age of Indian Civilization.” It dominated the whole of Northern India and saw an outpouring of art, music, literature and other aspects of culture. While they may not be viewed by most Indians as key or important, they serve as the last dominating force in India prior to the arrival of Islam. Their influence upon Indian cultural unity laid foundations for its later interaction with Islam.

Rise of Islam: Between 647 CE and 1565, Indian history is dominated by the story of the arrival and growing power of Islam. For anyone unfamiliar with the ways which Islam rolled out across the world and its influence on the cultures it interacted with, I recommend grabbing any of the relevant works by Karen Armstrong. There are many details we can say here – including the power of the Delhi Sultanate, which is certainly worth mentioning – but those details can be found elsewhere. My editorial commentary is that Islam presented the first entity which India could not absorb into the mainstream of its culture. To chose to be Muslim meant rejecting aspects of indigenous culture. This battle continues to shape India and its relationships with other countries.

Moghal Empire: The Mughal (or Moghal or Mogul) Empire spans several hundred years and encompasses a “glorious time of Indian culture.” Instead of the divisive pattern that had been the rule of law prior to their assent, we see a growing political, administrative and cultural unity spreading throughout the subcontinent. It can be argued that their unifying tactics laid the foundation for the coming tide of foreign dominance, but that should never detract from the achievements made.

East India Company: There were many East India Companies – Portuguese, Dutch, French, British. By the early 1600s, the power of the Mogals was receeding and the power void allowed for Europe to begin it’s takeover. While all of the companies left their own distinct mark – mostly on the southwestern coast state of Kerala – I concentrate the most on the British, as they eventually became the colonial power. From 1600 – 1858, the British East India company systematically took over the country, incorporating colonialism and forever changing how the West would interact with the Rest. They mostly traded opium, spices and tea and I credit them largely for the British obsession with tea.

British Raj: After the First War of Independence (also called the Sapoy Rebellion or the Indian Mutiny) in 1858, the British government dissolved the East India Company but continued to control India through the indirect rule of the British Raj. From 1858-1947, India was controlled by a hybrid of indigenous leadership who were little more than puppets to direct imported rulers. Much like other countries who are former colonized nations, this period of history is one not easily escaped from. There is an interesting conversation to be had here about race relations and the interactions between Brits and Indians, but that’s for another time.

Partition: Due to increased tension between Hindu and Muslim leadership, the British felt strongly that a united India could not move forward into independence. Thus, they partitioned India into separate Hindu and Muslim areas, uprooting hundreds of thousands of people from their homes so they could move to “appropriate” areas. The Muslim section is modern day Pakistan. Clearly, tensions still run hot between these two nations.

Ghandi: So, I don’t know if you’ve heard of this guy, but he’s kind of a big deal. Not a figure without controversy, however, he was the figurehead of a massive independence movement. Achieved in incremental pieces, India was declared a sovereign state in 1947. The first leader was Jawaharal Nehru, who set the tone for Indian politics for years to come. Other leaders of note; Indira Ghandi, Nehru’s granddaughter and Manmohan Singh, the current Prime Minister.

Slumdog: The India of 2010 is diverse and massive. Everything about India is life to an exponent – the wealth of some is as staggering as the poverty of others. Slumdog Millionaire is certainly a movie with its faults, but it raises a valid discussion about the growth of India. India is remarkable in how it has risen from the ashes of colonialism and built itself into a global force. It will, however, be hindered by its greater demons of child poverty, slavery and economic discrepancy if those things are not addressed.

If any of these topics interested you at all, I would really encourage you to investigate further. Shashi Tharoor is a brilliant author who writes equisitely about the glory and stress of his country. I recommend his Midnight to Millenium highly.

rickshaw rides in kolkata as we walk to mother house

Clearly, there are elements of our time in Calcutta that defy words. At a later date, I plan on highlighting some of those elements in their own post. To give you an overview, however, is appropriate for this post.

Kolkata, as Calcutta is now called, is the capital of West Bengal. The commercial capital of East India, the metropolitan area has a population of around 15 million. During the time of the Raj, it served as the capital and was regarded as a second London of sorts. There were times I felt like I was in a British Victorian city – the same architecture, similar street names. But at the same time, it’s distinctly Indian. Life happening on the street and rickshaws being pulled amidst the rest of the culture. One of the best ways I can describe it is this: Imagine Times Square in the 80s and 90s – life happening everywhere and stepping over people to get into restaurants. That’s Kolkata. The slums, of course, are a different ballgame. 25% of the city’s 6 million live in slums. I walked through some of them today to get to the home I’m working at and they were every bit as bad as your imagination tells you they are. Children – naked or partially clothed – running everywhere, women doing laundry on the side of the road, men dealing glue to huff so people forget how hungry they are … these are all realities of life in a slum.

We spent our time living at the Fairlawn Hotel on Sudder Street, working at one of Mother’s houses and eating at the Blue Sky Cafe. We spent five days in this fascinating, bustling city and I loved it. I loved that we were there long enough to have a routine and long enough to know people in the neighborhood. I love that we bought water at the same place every morning and that we could walk to the coffee shop on Park Ave. I know several of my teammates who hated Kolkata and it’s frenzy and they were not sad to leave. I was. I feel unfinished with Kolkata – hoping to go back and spend more time collecting stories of natives and expats alike.

We’ll do our brief photo tour and then stay tuned for next time when we’ll talk about Missionaries of Charity, Mother Theresa and how those things have intersected in my story.

The view from our hotel gate. The white building contains the Blue Sky Cafe, easily Michael’s favorite eating establishment. Anywhere. We probably ate 70% of our meals in Kolkata here. Our waiter there was Chico and he is amazing and we miss him.

We stayed at a British hotel. Complete with tea time each afternoon. Here, Stroope proves to us that he did live in the U.K.

Laundry : one of those things that happens in the street and happens in droves when it rains.

The entrance to Mother House, which serves as the headquarters of the Missionaries of Charity. The room where Mother spent her life and last moments is preserved for posterity. It’s a surreal and holy experience

Mother’s tomb

We ended our time in Kolkata by spending about eight hours in the train station as we waited on our delayed train to Varanassi

Here’s what I learned in India: just about anything you say about Hinduism is true. You say it’s a religion? Someone will agree. You say it’s not and it’s a cultural system? Someone will agree. You say it’s entirely about reincarnation? Someone will agree. You say it’s entirely about caste? Well, you get the picture.

(this is a bit of a long post, so I’m putting in a break here for those who could not care less.)

We read several books and articles before we left, but if I said that I understood Hinduism, I’d be lying. In order for me to feel like I’ve really blogged about India, I clearly need to address this beast which is interwoven with every moment of life there, but I am not super qualified to be explanatory. Because I am a full service blogger, I googled around and found these sources for anyone looking for a deeper explanation.

• Hinduism Today is a magazine available online. The site includes editorials and other such insight, including their “What is Hinduism” PDF which seems well done.
• I feel like About.Com is always a fairly reliable place to start and it appears that their article on Hinduism is no exception.
• From a religious tolerance website out of Canada, this also is a decent explanation.

As far as I can tell from readings, conversations and attending a few worship services, Hinduism is largely about practice, devotion (bhakti) and the way one orders their lives more than it is about having a particular belief system. A person will often worship the god(s) worshipped by their family, perhaps praying to some others for special occasions. The god worshipped may also be attached to the physical location where one lives. So, remember, Key to Hinduism #1: How you behave is more important than who you believe in. Especially because who you believe in is allowed to change. Not kidding.

This is key because of the concept of Dharma. Dharma is above diety and above sin, a completely separate thing. The chief concern is respecting others and giving them the freedom to grow in their own space and time. While sin breaks relationship with god (yes, there is a concept of sin), dharma breaks relationship with the universe. It is FAR MORE IMPORTANT to respect the universe than to be right in a conversation.

To put it another way – most Hindus are completely comfortable with theological dissonance. If I believe in Jesus, they’re thrilled for me, but that doesn’t mean they need to. I can be right and they can be right and those aren’t mutually exclusive concepts. This idea begs the question of the contributions of culture to psychological development, but that’s a different conversation. So, Key to Hinduism #2: Being in community is more important than being right.

Once we get past these two points, it gets murky. Even within these two points, it gets murky. Because for as many books as I read that convinced me of the community point, I can’t really understand how caste doesn’t violate that. India is both deeply communal and highly individual and I’m not positive how to articulate that.

However, as one of our tour guides told us, Hinduism is impossible to understand and easy to practice. Most Hindus have never read the basic Scriptures or have any idea of how many gods there are in the pantheon (3.3 million, give or take). They’re unaware of dissonance and frustration. They simply live their lives in the rhythms of the faith passed down to them from their ancestors. If Grandma worshipped Shiva, likelihood is that you do as well. Beyond that point, most people I met don’t analyze their faith. This, of course, is a stark contrast to our own faith system.

There is clearly more to talk about: karma and caste being the two chief. I have myraids of questions about the origins of the pantheon and the general treatment of women under Hinduism. And as I stated above: you’ll meet people who deeply disagree with me about all of the above. I am simply reporting it as I understand it and reserve the right to amend this observations. However, in the midst of the questions, there are points of respect. One cannot help – especially when traveling through Varanassi or attending a worship service anywhere in the country – but be impressed by the level of devotion and the way spiritually has wrapped through their lives. I do not have the same story and have much to learn in that area from persons who follow this system.

Up next? Cramming thousands of years of history into a blog post. Get excited.

reflections in kerala

Our final stop in southern India was Cochin, located in the state of Kerala. It’s referred to as “God’s Own Country,” because it’s simply that beautiful. The language is Malayalam and it is the most non-Hindu state in India, with only 40% of the population claiming Hinduism. Our time there was one of Sabbath and tourism, spending one day doing each. On the Saturday of our time, we were given a Sabbath day. Some of us slept in, some of us journaled, some of us watched television. We did gather for a time in the morning to discuss the nature of ‘mission’ and its role in the Kingdom. It was an excellent conversation about roles and vision, grace and community. That night was also the night of the EPIC game of Telepictionary, which resulted in Andy’s new nickname.

Sunday was a definitive tourism day. We went to the oldest church in India, visited Vasco DeGama’s grave, helped some fisherman bring in their catch, toured old castles from the time of the Dutch and took in a cultural theater experience that evening. We also had the opportunity to visit Jewtown, which is literally an Orthodox Jewish community nestled in amongst Cochin. The synagogue there is the oldest among the British empire. It’s random and beautiful. (Side note: one of my Jewish friends and I were talking before I left and I told him I was going to Jewtown. He responded that it’s not an authentic Jewish community unless there are bagels and nagging mothers. I saw neither, so take that for what it’s worth.)

By the time we finished in Cochin, I was anxious to head north. The cultures in each Indian state are diverse (much like Phoenix and Atlanta have different cultures), but the divide between north and south is strong. There is significantly more Western influence down south – mostly due to the various East India Companies that settled and prospered there. Besides the British, no other country penetrated the north, and they did very little cultural change there.

So, onto the photo tour of our time in Cochin. Because of the cultural shifting point, this provides a great opportunity to pause. The next post will be a brief introduction to Hinduism, followed by a quick history of India which I’ve been meaning to type since before I left and then onto Jaipur.

This is Katie, CJ and Stroope playing in the Arabian Sea. We gathered on Saturday evening on the beach to watch the sunset.

Sunset on the Arabian Sea. My life is ridiculous.

See the above link for further explanation – but this is how they fish in Cochin. They let tourist come onto the platform and pull up the nets.

Gates of the synagogue. Pictures were not allowed inside, clearly.

Signage in the city

This is one of the more ridiculous stories from the trip. In Cochin at the resort we stayed at, we were offered the opportunity to do ayurvedic massages. Thinking this would be super relaxing, Mike, Kari and I signed up. Instead of a massage, it was an oil bath and instead of relaxing, it was traumatic. But, as they say, bad decisions make good stories!

I have no words to describe Kathakali. Theater, culture, awkward… all appropriate words. I’m going to let Wikipedia take this one.

scenery shot from the bus window

Our time in Hyderabad was spent as guests of our dear friends Sagar and Kaliani as they became our guide’s for the wedding of Sagar’s brother, Vijay. We kicked off the time with shopping for sarees, kurtas and shalwars (traditional Indian clothing items), had the chance to go to a dedication of an indigenous church, and got to enjoy all of the trappings of a wedding weekend (including purchasing bangles, which made the other girls beside themselves with joy). One tradition that we got to enjoy was the groom preparation ceremony. After a time of blessings offered and prayers given, the ceremony devolved into a festive party, celebrating Vijay and his new life. Of course, this is India, so celebrating involved a massive dance party (Bollywood style!) and the tradition of covering the groom with paint. And maybe also covering all the guests in paint.

The wedding itself was so much fun to be a part of. I was honored that we were invited and included the way we were. All told, the time in Hyderabad was one for the memory books – I got to wear a saree, got henna on my hands, took fancy photos with the team and got caught up in the joy that swirled all around me.

Another fantastic highlight of the trip was the afternoon we got to spend having tea and conversation in Sagar and Kaliani’s home. I had the privilege of knowing Sagar when he was at Truett and it was fantastic to see his life in India and how he has carved out life for himself since leaving. It was an honor to have them share their souls with us for that time.

Stay tuned for the next installment: iPhones and camels: juxtaposition in jaipur

Just to clarify. These signs were everywhere in Hyderabad.

Our first order of business was the purchase of appropriate clothing. While the guys quickly picked out their wedding kurtas, the girls got swept upstairs to begin with our daily wear – shalwar kameezes. We then headed downstairs to be fitted for our wedding sarees. Shout-out to the men, who waited paitently during that four-hour shopping process.

The saree store. INSANE.

Getting henna done for the wedding!

Vijay’s preparation ceremony – getting covered in curry paint

CJ and Katie cannot believe they have their faces covered.

Mal struggles to take photos with her face painted

With Michael in our wedding wear!

Kari and I in our sarees

Mal and I react to how ridiculous our lives are at that moment

Stroope and the girls in our wedding finest

Depending on who you ask, April-September in Northern Ireland is referred to as “The Marching Season,” “The Paramilitary Party Season,” or, by the most cynical of my friends, “The Silly Season.” The time surrounding July 12 is the height of sectarian activity, with the night before marked by bonfires in loyalist neighborhoods throughout the nation. “The July 12th Fortnight” is an unofficial holiday time – with many businesses on ‘vacation’ and families leave the country. For an explanation, check my blog entry from 2006. This photo was taken at the Annandale Embankment in East Belfast on July 11, 2006.

I woke up yesterday and knew immediately that it was July 11th. I don’t know how I still move in these emotional rhythms, but I do. I know that gatherings would be happening all day and long into the night, celebrating a reality that grieves me. I pride myself on being respectful of people and their opinions, beliefs and practices – but I will admit to having a hard time swallowing some of the traditions surrounding the 12th. It feels divisive and damaging and driven by hatred. I remember sitting on the hill and feeling the heat of the bonfire envelop me as I wondered how I would be celebrating this if I was a native.

Most of my friends shun the 12th, leaving the country for vacation – or at the very least, baracading themselves in their house on the night of the 11th and rolling their eyes at the activities of a minority of their fellow countrymen. Because it is a minority, I promise. But I had students who clung to these traditions for their identity. They understood themselves as part of this community and this is how this community carves itself out. What’s the line between valid expression and damaging division?

I’m not ashamed to say this piece of the culture grieves me. Celebration of difference as a ranking system grieves me anywhere, but even more in this country that has captured my soul. So, in light of all of that, I am sending thoughts and prayers of peace, wellness and calm to that wee isle today and I’d invite you to do the same.

chennai is located in the state of tamil nadu and the native tongue is tamil

I know I promised in the last post that I would be talking about temples, but that is actually going to wait for one more city. I’m splitting up time in Chennai with time in Mamallapuram. Sorry if this causes emotional distress to any of you.

What I remember about the travel process to Chennai is being completely exhuasted. We took off from Hong Kong around midnight, landing in Delhi for our layover at around 3am and then finally landing in Chennai shortly after 11am. I was so ready to be horizontal. This is also a pretty decent time to mention that my feet did not love India. I think the total blister count was around fifteen – including one that the team referred to as the ‘toe tumor’ because it was almost larger than the toe itself. (by the time we hit Hyderabad, they were much better.)

One of the statements made about India is that is an assault on your senses. This is completely true. India does not allow you to ignore it – the sounds, the smells, the odors, the masses. India crawls right up and demands to be dealt with. As we drove from the airport to the YWCA where we stayed that evening, our bus was silent save for the sounds of camera shutters. I’m sure some of it was jet lag, but I know some of it was that none of us were quite sure what to do and how to process everything we were seeing. I’m still figuring out how to describe India – but I will make this statement: life is lived outside. Constantly. Laundry, bathing, cooking, eating; life happens on the street. It’s an amazing juxtaposition.

We spent that day settling in (and I desperately tried to get the swelling in my feet to go down!) and attempting to rest. We only spent one night and a portion of a day in Chennai. The morning was spent in church at an Anglican Church of Scotland – complete with giant eagle podium – and then we did the tourist thing for a wee bit of the afternoon before loading a bus to drive to Mamallapuram. I have thoughts about the church… but those are for a later post. Here’s a quick photo summary of our hours in Chennai. After the quick photo tour – be sure to tune in tomorrow for the story of how I went to Mamallapuram and got promised marriage.

The little vehicle in the foreground is a auto-rickshaw – affectionately called a ‘tuk-tuk’ because of the noise they make as they drive. We took these frequently and they were my favorite mode of transport.

They had these signs all over the place and they always made me laugh. Always.

We thought this meant ‘no bugles.’ Instead, it meant ‘no horns.’ Considering, as Casey said, the horn business would be good to go into in India, that made more sense.

Just in case you were wondering, seeing cows everywhere never got old.

Housing happens wherever you can find it

The Apostle Thomas – of doubting fame – reportedly made his way to India shortly after the Day of Pentacost. There is a vibrant faith community still in India that traces itself back to Thomas – calling itself MaraThoma Christians. However, it is not just the MaraThoma who claims Thomas’ contact with India. Pictured above is his “tomb” – complete with creepy wax figure.

After a long flight from Los Angeles to Hong Kong, we landed in the city of four thousand neon signs. Our first stop was Starbucks (to demonstrate our devotion) and then we made our way to Sha Tin and the top of the hill to check in at our lodging, the Tao Fong Shan Buddhist-Christian Conversation Center. A charming retreat center with fantastic beds, shower pressure and free internet – we were thrilled. After quick showers, we made began what is affectionately known as “The Death March” by past teams. Stroope’s goal is to conquer jet lag and he does that by not allowing us to rest until after dinner. We walked down the hill (and looked like a living, breathing Kashi add) and walked to the ferry and took the ferry and went to the top of Victoria Hill and took pictures and and and… The last part of the death march was a walk to this noodle shop that Stroope claimed he read about in the New York Times. We got exceptionally lost and ended up eating possibly the worst meal of the trip. I *heart* paying for lame ramen. However, despite the lame ramen – I loved this day. I loved walking around Hong Kong! Walking around a city always makes me feel like I know it better – I would much rather meander through a city than ride in a big tourist bus. While I was only in HK for a few days, I want to go back. I loved the bustle and the chaos. It felt like London and yet completely different and that was fantastic.

The next day was a day full of conversations with American expats navigating life in Hong Kong. It was one of the first times of the trip where I really had to confront the fact that my faith paradigm is not typical for American Christianity. It may be to generic to say that I don’t fit in the faith paradigm of my home culture – so forgive me if that sounds crass – but I’m still figuring out to express my feeling of un-fitted-ness. I am not judging – honestly – there are just simply things taken for granted that I no longer believe to be complete truth. I know that’s a cryptic comment and one that needs to be unpacked with care. But this day was a bit of a preview of things to come, as I spent most of the trip wondering where the separation was between gospel and culture. Of course, to be fair, I’ve been questioning that boundary for a few years now.

One of the highlights of the trip (I think for all of us) was a meeting with Sam Say of Bolaven Coffee. Bolaven is the a sustainable cooperative of organic coffee growers in Laos. As Sam told us his story and the story of the farm, it became more and more clear that this was a special thing that I wanted to be a part of. Thus, I hereby encourage you to purchase this coffee and to support a farm based on excellence and equality.

After that conversation, we headed off to the airport to board our flight to India! Next up on the recaps: templetastic blessings for marriage: or, our time in chennai