Oh, India

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.

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

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

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

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

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

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!