Here’s our second guest blogger, our good friend David with some thoughts from his time in India. Feel free to check out his blog if you would like to read more…
http://dav1db.wordpress.com/
In March of 2006, my wife and I, and our two young girls visited Bangalore, India for 3 weeks on business. During weekends, we also took trips to Delhi, Agra, Mysore, Fatipur Sikri, and Kabini.
We have so many memories from that trip that it’s difficult to wrap them in a short summary. One word that fits many though, is “extreme”.
India is home to some of the greatest poverty and some of the richest men in the world, some of the oldest traditions, and some of the newest technology. It’s the biggest democracy in the world; yet it’s still constrained by the numerous remnants of an elaborate caste system. Elsewhere, you can find poorer places, and you can find richer ones; you can find older places and you can find newer ones; you can find prettier places and you can find uglier ones. But only in India, it seems, can you see so many examples of them side-by-side. From the gleaming white marble of the Taj Mahal overlooking crippled beggars, to diseased dogs lying outside the luxurious Oberoi hotel, to mellenia old traditions being celebrated outside Bangalore’s modern office buildings, to orthodox Christians walking alongside devout Muslims, India is extreme and you can see it all right next to each other. And in that juxtaposition — that contrast — a certain energy of life emanates. It’s beautiful and wretched, happy and sad, peaceful and frightening, all at once. It’s extreme, and it forever changed us.
I can describe one of the many ways it changed us with a couple stories. On our first weekend in Bangalore, Jaison, our resident cook whom we had befriended a few days earlier, guided us deep into an impoverished, but vibrant, village embedded in the city. There, we attended a small church. It was so bizarre to find this little group of people twelve and a half time zones from where we live, singing the same songs we do, reading the same Bible, and praising the same God! When it came time for collecting gifts, we felt very moved to help them abundantly. And that we did. After learning a bit about construction costs and living expenses, it was remarkable to me how much of an impact we could potentially have for an amount that was still quite affordable to us. It was so easy to help.
I feel like God showed me a different side later though. For much of our stay, we were blessed to have a very kind driver who went out of his way to keep my wife and kids active, but also safe while I was at work. Unfortunately, he accidentally tapped another car one day while navigating the interminably crowded Bangalore streets. He finally learned on our last day in India that his employer would fine him $300 – about three months salary, which would surely be a major hardship not only for him, but also his children, wife, and parents whom he supported.
It was obvious that he didn’t want to ask for help, but also obvious that he could use it and would take it. The amount took me by surprise though, and I only had $80 left in my wallet. No problem, I could stop at a bank. But after a series of getting a flat tire, my wife losing her purse, and being stuck in heavy traffic, we completely ran out of time to stop at a bank.
Still no problem, though, I could withdraw money at the airport. So when we got to the airport, I darted for an ATM, pushing dangerously close to our flight time, but feeling that we could make it. Alas, the ATM was out-of-order. Then someone told me there was another ATM on the other side of the airport. So I sprinted the four minutes to the other side. This one took my card, but couldn’t read it. I hurriedly asked several passersby where I could find a working ATM, but no one could help. Finally, with no other options left, I went to the money changers and exchanged my eighty dollars for Indian rupees minus their hefty commission.
I didn’t have problems withdrawing money at any other time in our trip, but when I felt like I most needed it, everything failed. I ended up leaving India with the distinct feeling that this was a problem I simply wasn’t intended to fix. I could only help so much, and that was it.
We all play a part in God’s plan, but I was reminded again, that it’s only a part. As so much of the world needs our help, and as much as we can help, no one of us will fix everything. Poverty, loss, and suffering on a vast degree will continue. Depressing? At first, yes. But as time passed, I instead felt liberated from being overwhelmed. Before, I sometimes took a big picture approach to giving – wanting to figure out where the greatest need was, where I could make the biggest difference, calculating the best way to help, etc. The problem with that is it often leads to an all-or-none response. I’m not sure I want to give to this group, because maybe it would be better to give to another, or give at some other time – the “paralysis of analysis” as the cliché goes. India showed me the futility and needlessness of that approach by revealing the enormity of the problem face-to-face. I realized my only chance was to focus on the mission God presents to me. We’re constantly bombarded by needs and requests. My advice now would be, to be sensitive to which needs God is calling you to; of course research to verify that you’re contributing to a good cause; but, it doesn’t have to be the “best” cause, because there’s no such thing as the best, at least that we can see. So nowadays I’m more content to simply jump straight in, and feel peace knowing that I am just fulfilling a part.
