10,000, 400, 14

Cow Count: 768

Overview of events...
For the last three days, Teju and I visited the rural development branch of an NGO (KKSS, an organization who's website is linked on the right) in Dindigul, India. After a 9 hour bus ride, we were subject to more Indian hospitality- which here means: transportation, a very nice room, three delivered meals a day, and the opportunity to interview both their manager and a group of 15 women from a nearby village for our research. Here are a few of the events from the trip that will stand out as very fond memories for a long time.

Arrival...
After breakfast at a local hotel we were picked up on motorcycle by the manager and his assistant. We held on tight as we made our way through the streets of Dindgul and out onto the country roads that led us to the headquarters and guest house. Just remembering it enough to write about it brings adrenaline - there are few times in recent memory that I can recall feeling more alive. At this point we were precisely 10,000 miles by plane, 400 km by bus, and 14 km by motorcycle from beloved Colorado.

Cricket, prayer, and another 8 year old who stole my heart...
On the second day of our visit after our work, we were collected by the local village boys for our novelty (probably been a while since they had seen white skin in these parts) and included in game of cricket. I must say they must have been disappointed by selecting me as a captain (it didn't take long for my natural athletic ability (or lack there of) to show itself) We had fun all the same, and I nearly hit the cricket equivalent of a home run on the second to last pitch-to win! Instead, Teju caught me out and we lost.

I didn't have much time for the loss to sting, however, because we were soon on our way to a prayer service in a local village. The village that we interviewed was Christian (a minority, by my understanding) and they graciously invited us back to attend their nightly prayer meeting. I rode to the village sandwiched between 3 Indian villagers on a motorcycle (poor motorcycle). Hearing prayers offered in Tamil, a local language, I couldn't help but try to imagine all the thanksgiving, praise, and supplication, that must rise constantly in a uniquely human jumble before the throne of God Almighty. What does it mean to place my own prayers amongst these and to weigh my own concerns against my quickly expanding notion of 6.2 billion people?

One other memory I hope to hold on to was of a little friend that I made. Her name was Escarolina Chitra, the 8 year old daughter of the night watchman. We spent several hours one night attempting to talk to her, her father, and sisters, prior to falling asleep. While the language barrier was as obtrusive as I've ever found it to be, we were still able to communicate a little (a shared liking of swings for one thing) and I've taken to trying to imagine her future. What will her hopes for life be? Where will she work? Who will she love? What would it mean to come to know her as an intimate friend?

A larger question: How does one go about beginning to multiply the intricacy of one life's hopes and tears by the absurd number of other people we keep bumping into?

No answers here... just thought i'd share some thoughts this was all bringing up.


I'm planning on hopefully having a link to a web album up by later tonight, which would have pics from the whole trip.
Thanks for the prayer and support!
MDK