Christmas Eve in Goa

So we went to the beach for a few days of R&R over Christmas. On Christmas Eve we were having dinner on the beach. Now, we were definitely in a touristy area, though more popular among Europeans than Americans. What happened next made me grab a pen and scratch something like the following on a piece of paper, lest I failed to remember.

“On the beach, Christmas Eve, surrounded by palm trees dressed in Christmas lights, the ocean lapping soothingly on the shore nearby and what does the band play? Country Road (West Virginia), by John Denver.”

reminds me of last year when I bought a beach towel on the same beach that read in large letters “Florida”

Caroling

sorry, it’s taken me a little while to get these posts up. I’ve had some internet access issues-SL

Saturday, December 23, 2006
6:42 PM Hyderabad Time
On Base

READING: The Jesus I Never Knew, by Philip Yancey
The Clandestine Diary of an Ordinary Iraqi by Salam Pax
IPod MUSIC: None

Last night we went caroling … FOR 7 HOURS. yea, 7, count um S-E-V-E-N. I’m not kidding. We were all on the bus by 6 pm and rolled back into campus at 1:15 am. Now this was not your typical USA sing-song experience, though come to think of it, I haven’t had one of those in years. Do we still go caroling in America? Anyway, instead of going house to house in a single neighborhood, we were all over the town. And this wasn’t sing two or three songs at a casual, finale with We Wish you a Merry Christmas and off to the next door, maybe their home, maybe their not. This was regimented. This was efficient. IN. OUT. BUS. Bing, Bang, Boom. Church leaders had a list of some 45 families from the church and we were going to hit them all, by-golley.

It was one traditional carol then a scripture reading from the Christmas story, then a prayer, (I got to read and pray sometimes), then yes we did sing We Wish you a Merry Christmas, then a cheer, then a blessing, then some snack and drink. Oh yea, they knew we were coming. We phoned ahead.

REPEAT 40 TIMES !!!—that’s a lot of snack and drink.

Santa was with us too (see picture). He must have been taking a break from packing up his sleigh and feeding his reindeer, but ya, the big St. Nick was there and he was a dancing machine.

There was a moment. It could have been tragic, a disaster of other-worldly proportion. IT COULD HAVE RUINED CHIRISTMAS for millions of little children.

As our posse—which by the way, kept growing and growing. First it was just the bus, but at our peak we had the bus, 2 SUVs and 3 or 4 motorbikes—sorry, now back to the story.

Santa was in the lead and as our group rounded the corner, heading to the next home, coming out of the home WAS ANOTHER SANTA CLAUSE with another group of carolers. Was this the end? The final battle of good vs. evil, or rather, good vs. good? No, we were lucky as no one was in the mood for a row. Our Santa, the real Santa, graciously and humbly rushed to the fake santa for a warm and jovial embrace. Then was the time in the show where they danced. And what a dance it was!

Honestly, though long, the night was quite memorable and enjoyable. It was experiencing the joy of the youth that made it worthwhile. For like the first 5 hours it was the TTC (Teachers Training Class, young people training to be teachers) that carried the crew. Their energy and singing was without bound. But about 10:30 or 11:00 pm even they got tired. Then the kids took over and their joy and singing carried us home.

As I have often noted many time on these pages and elsewhere, those with relatively little materially, believers in poor countries and poor churches can teach me, us in the west, much about the joy of the Lord and the miracle of being alive.

Maybe that’s one of the things Jesus meant when he said, “Blessed are you who are poor, for yours is the kingdom of God.”
Luke 6:20 b NRSV

can you say "legacy"?

World's oldest woman dies at 116
By Catherine Elsworth in New York

"The world's oldest living woman has died at the age of 116 in a nursing
home in Memphis, Tennessee.

Elizabeth "Lizzie" Bolden held the title for just over three months,
according to Guinness World Records, following the death in August of Maria
Esther de Capovilla of Ecuador, who was also 116 ...

According to
relatives, she leaves 40 grandchildren, 75 great-grandchildren, 150
great-great-grandchildren, 220 great-great-great grandchildren and 75
great-great-great-great grandchildren."

for full story click here
from The Telegraph.co.uk

Crazy to think about what kind of legacy some of us may leave

Let's Say "Thanks"

http://www.letssaythanks.com
http://www.letssaythanks.com

This seemed fairly painless and worthwhile. Go to the website, click a few clicks and Xerox will print and send a post card to one of our troops abroad.

Number$ on a page

Tuesday, December 19, 2006

6:33 PM Hyderabad Time

On Base

READING: The Jesus I Never Knew, by Philip Yancey
For One More Day by Mitch Albom
IPod MUSIC: None

40% portion of the world’s wealth possessed by the richest 1% of the population

500 thousands of dollars required to rank among the wealthiest 1% of the world’s population

37 millions of people who have this level of wealth around the world

1% portion of global wealth possessed by poorest half of the world’s population

--according to a United Nations study, reported in Time (Asia) -- TimeAsia.com and Newsweek (International) – NewsweekInternational.com-- December 18, 2006

Quarter-Life Crisis

Friday, December 15, 2006

10:22 PM Hyderabad Time

ON BASE

READING: Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance
by Barak Obama
IPod MUSIC: Dave Matthews Band—Live at Red Rocks (Disk 1)

It might be a quarter-life crisis
just a stirrin' in my soul

either way
i wonder sometime about the outcome
of a still verdictless life

am i living it right
am i living it right
am i living it right
why, why, georgia why

--from Why Georgia by John Mayer

I think I’m having a quarter-life crisis. Maybe it’s a one-third life crisis. I just turned 30 and I’m single. My work schedule that my main client offered me for next year has been severely cut back. (I’m not on salary. I get paid per event.) As I’ve been thinking and praying about it over the last few weeks, I assume if I was offered more work form any client, I would probably take the work, but I’m not sure I should—Is it too early to buy a sports car?

Looking back on my year, I was away from Denver for some or most or of 42 weeks on either business, vacation or here in India—something close to 250 nights. That’s a lot of hotels! Probably too much. I like my job, but I don’t love it. I think it’s pretty cool, but I’m not passionate about it. I want a job I love. I want a job that is meaningful and fulfilling, that I’m passionate about—not too much to ask for, is it?

Though this year hasn’t been bad. I’ve made some money. I’ve had some fun and been to some awesome locales. But it hasn’t been the healthiest year spiritually, emotionally or physically. I think I came back from India in a pretty good place spiritually, but it was hard (or impossible) to stay there solo. I think I need more regular worship and community—maybe therapy, HA!

I miss softball. I miss bowling. I miss being able to commit to anything on a regular weekly basis. I miss just the random hang out with my friends.

So the $64,000 question … What do I do now that I’m all growd up? I’m 30 and single, college-educated, virtually debt-free with manageable expenses. I can do anything. The world is my oyster.

My first choice is to become a professional poker player, but I really think that would be best to do part-time--at least until I actually break even for my lifetime. I’ll keep you posted.

Law School, some sort of other grad school, maybe for teaching; politics? All good suggestions, you say. (I’m fairly disillusioned with politics at the moment, but you never know—maybe I’ll run the Colorado campaign for Barak O’Bama. Can you imagine? Me, working on a the campaign of a Democrat?—what’s the weather forecast in hell?

Leave a comment with your job idea. Maybe I’ll put them all in a hat and say a prayer.

"Why do you go to India?"

Thursday, December 14, 2006

8:13 PM Hyderabad Time--On Base

READING: Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance
by Barak Obama
iPod MUSIC: KBCO’s Studio C Vol. 16

“Why do you go to India?” I was asked that twice in the weeks preceding my departure. My first, off the cuff, easy answer was that I go to help Sebi (with video production) and the organization. To try to make a difference. To affect at least one person’s life (or at least his workload.)

I go on to say that go to India to try to find do something with meaning. To try to justify the other 10 months of my year making a good paycheck and bad TV.

I don’t know.

Why do I come to India? Do I come to be fulfilled or do I come to stay fulfilled. Does it make me feel good about myself? Is it a vacation? Is it cool? Is it to get away from all the distractions at home? Do I come just because I can?

We’ll I can eliminate some of the above possibilities … It’s not a vacation, but it is kind of cool. Sometimes it’s nice not to have a TV or radio or cell phone.

Ultimately, I don’t know why I come to India. It seemed like the right thing to do. It seems like the right thing to do. To hopefully use my talents and time for God’s glory. To again remind myself what most of the rest of the world is like.

The first time I came, after the tsunami, I felt called. I wanted to do something besides send a check. I had the time. I had the means. I came. It was life changing or at least a worldview shaping. During my first trip, I was so impressed with the organization and the tireless, selfless, joyful Indians. I had more time off at the end of that year. I had a mission-minded church a great group of friends and a supportive family. I had awesome roommates to take care of my place. So I came back. And then I came back again.

India is an exciting place to be. In 10 years India and China will be the new economic superpowers (if they aren’t already). Though the poverty is extreme. And there is a huge gap between rich and poor here—so much more then the western world. God, the poor here are so poor. But, but, God is working and the organization is working, building, running, sponsoring Christian-based, English-language education for thousands of children, who God-willing with a good education and the English language can maybe, just maybe, pull themselves out of their extreme poverty like millions of others in this county.

I come to India to try fill a hole in me, a longing, a desire to do something meaningful, something that matters, so I won’t feel my life has been wasted.

Whoa ... that turned out a little heavy.

Silence (by Jars of Clay)

Take, take till there's nothing, nothing to turn to.
Nothing when you get through.
Won't you break, scatter pieces of all I've been.
Bowing to all I've been running to.

Where are you?
Where are you?

Did you leave me unbreakable?
Leave me frozen?
I've never felt so cold.
I thought you were silent.
And I thought you left me for the wreckage and the waste.
On an empty beach of faith.
Was it true?

Cause I, I got a question, I got a question- Where are you?

Scream, deeper I wanna scream.
I want you to hear me, I want you to find me.
Cause I, I want to believe but all I pray is wrong and all I claim is gone.

And I, I got a question, I got a question- Where are you?

My Favorite Picture so far ...

'Nuff Said

"Does India feel like home?"

Tuesday, December 12, 2006
8:13 PM Hyderabad Time
On Base

READING: Dreams from My Father: A Story of Race and Inheritance
by Barak Obama
IPod MUSIC: none


Before I left the States my Mom asked me if going back to India would feel like home. And I was like, “No.” (thinking, why would it?) But this is my third trip to the Subcontinent in less than two years. Last time I was here in Hyderabad for the majority of my 13 weeks. I didn’t really realize it before I got here but on my arrival it had only been 9 months since I had previously left. And no, Mom, India doesn’t feel like home, but some things are rather familiar.

Some things have changed here on base: They now sell Diet Coke at the general store. There is wireless internet, though its reach is limited and it doesn't always work. There are some sort wild turkey-like birds. There are a couple of new pieces of equipment in the edit suite.

But lots things are the same. A lot of the people are the same and I’ve surprised myself with how many names I've remembered. Apparently, I am not the same; though as I was recognized, several people told me I had put on weight. (All those restaurants and catered meals on the road this year didn’t do me any favors.) It wasn’t pointed out in a negative way, just in a descriptive, Indian sort of way.

The weather is tropical, lovely and the same. There have been some slight road improvements, but Hyderabad, or at least the Hyderabad I have seen so far this time is pretty much the same. The extreme poverty is the same, but still shocking, some of it close to base, some of it close to the 5-star hotels, great restaurants and other stomping grounds of the rich.

God is the same. And here in India, free from many of the distractions of home, I pray the continued growth in my relationship with him will be the same.

Who Knew?

Monday, December 11, 2006
5:16 PM Hyderabad Time
On Base

READING: Heart. Soul. Mind. Strength: An Anecdotal History of InterVarsity Press
by Andrew T. Le Peau and Linda Doll,
Time (Asia) and Newsweek (International), December 11, 2006
iPod MUSIC: none

"We already know that some animals do not seem to age. Many cold-water ocean fish, some amphibians and the Amercian lobster never reach a fixed size; they continue to grow bigger, to be able to reproduce and to live until something kills them ..."

From: Can We Slow Aging?, Newsweek (International),
December 11, 2006
http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/15994157/site/newsweek/


The American lobster, really?

Jetlag

Thursday, December 7, 2006
8:13 PM Hyderabad Time
On Base

READING: Tempting Faith: An Inside Story of Political Seduction
by David Kuo
and Time (December 11, 2006)
iPod MUSIC: Soundtrack from Last of The Mohecians


So, in theory, I think I had it right. But as we know a good theory needs to be practiced; a good plan executed.

I was in Chicago with my family for Thanksgiving, then to Orlando for a last week of work, then back to Chicago Sunday night and Monday for a Tuesday evening departure to India.

If you weren’t sure India was becoming an economic superpower, all you have to do is look at airline routes. Today, American Airlines flies from Chicago’s O’hare airport to New Delhi, India approximately halfway around the world—WITHOUT STOPPING!. On United you can go Denver or Chicago to Frankfurt then to Hyderabad (my final destination). My choice this trip was KLM Chicago to Amsterdam to Hyderabad. None of these routes were available even a year ago. (Last year, I flew Denver to Minneapolis to Amsterdam to New Delhi to Hyderabad, spending about 32 hours door-to-door.--This year was done in a breezey 24.)

Back to my jetlag prevention plan … I think I slept about the last 3 and a half hours of my flight from Chicago to Amsterdam. I had a 5-hour layover in Amsterdam and dozed off for about the latter half of it.

This is where my plan came in to action. I had a cup of coffee before I got onto the plane from Amsterdam to Hyderabad. Somehow, (God must have been with me) as I was one of the last people to board I handed my boarding pass to the agent, she handed me a new stub. “1-D” starred back at me, with my name above the seat assignment. “A new seat, sir.” she said, nonchalantly. A little more investigation on my part (reading the rest of the stub) confirmed what I already new … WORLD BUSINESS CLASS !!! YIPEE!

By the way, business or first class is simply the only way to travel internationally and you simply must try it, Darling.

Back to my plan … So after a lovely lunch of salmon, wonk fish, and shrimp as well as a glass or two of fine French wine I viewed the movie World Trade Center, which is very moving and a little eerie to be watching from a plane.

I had about 6 hours left, popped two sleeping pills and was out.

A nice snack before landing, then immigration, then waiting for a period that seemed longer that the entire 8-hour flight to get my bags, then breezing though customs, then 20 minutes to campus and I was in my room by 3:30 AM local time.

I’d had about 9 hours of sleep in the last 32 (not to bad). And it was 3:30 in the morning. I was feeling pretty awake, but if figured if I could sleep anywhere from the next 6 to 9 hours, I’d be up by lunchtime, stay up as long as possible that night and be good to go the following day. Two more sleeping pills and I was gone.

I think the first time I woke up it was about 12:45. "Fifteen minutes", I told myself. "I’ll get up then." 1:30, "just fifteen more minutes." 3:45, by now I starting to think I may never get up again. BANG. BANG. BANG on the door (darn, 5:45 PM). Maybe it’s not my door. BANG. BANG. BANG. “Steve?”. I guess it is my door. They wanted me to move rooms.

My plan was blown to sliverenes … and by the way, Ambient works pretty well.

Now it’s 8:54 and I’m wide awake and probably will be all night. So much for my plan to conquer that blasted jetlag.

What's so Amazing about Grace?

Wednesday, December 6, 2006
7:39 AM Amsterdam Time
Amsterdam Airport

READING: Finished What’s so Amazing about Grace? by Philip Yancy
Started Tempting Faith: An Inside Story of Political Seduction
by David Kuo
and Time (December 11, 2006)
iPod MUSIC: Shuffle Songs

So, Philip Yancy visits my church as a guest speaker at the evening service about once a year or once every other year or whenever he has a new book out. Anyway, his last visit inspired me to dust off one of his better known works, What’s so Amazing about Grace? and to order a couple of his other books off of Amazon.com.

I finished Grace on the plane and would recommend it to all you out there in blogland.

Here’s a couple of passages that stuck out to me …

“Diviners in a desert, modern artists and thinkers search in vain for alternative sources of grace. ‘What the world needs, I am ashamed to say, is Christian love,’ wrote Bertrand Russell. Not long before she died, the secular humanist and novelist Marghanita Laski told a television interviewer , ‘What I envy about you Christians is your forgiveness. I have nobody to forgive me.’ And Douglas Coupland, who coined the term Generation X, concluded in his book Life After God, ‘My secret is that I need God—that I am sick and can no longer make it alone. I need God to help me give, because I no longer seem to be capable of giving; to help me be kind, as I no longer seem capable of kindness; to help me love, as I seem beyond being able to love.”

What’s so Amazing About Grace ? ­– by Philip Yancy, page 279


“We cannot find Him unless we know we need Him”, wrote Thomas Merton.
Grace – page 272


“Author Tony Compolo, who makes a regular circuit as a chapel speaker on Christian college campuses, for a time used this provocation to make a point. ‘The United Nations reports that over ten thousand people starve to death each day, and most of you don’t give a sh--. However, what is even more tragic is that most of you are more concerned about the fact that I just said a bad word than you are about the fact that ten thousand people are going to die today.’ The responses proved his point: in nearly every case Tony got a letter from the chaplain or president of the college protesting his foul language. The letters never mentioned world hunger.”

Grace – page 201