As you may have noticed, our mornings have turned out to be quite interesting. This morning after breakfast, we went down stairs with all our luggage and got ready to load the vans. It was raining pretty hard (we have experienced the monsoon season), and our drivers could not get all the luggage in. In the process, one of the drivers broke his trunk and spent 20 minutes trying to fix it. Much to our dismay, he did not and we had to tie a tarp to the top with our luggage.
But it gets better. The rain began to pick up more, and by the time we reached the refugee camp the ground was full of little streams and deep puddles. We all stepped out of the vans and made our way to the church. It was quite a complicated walk, which resorted in us taking off our sandals and shoes and just walking barefoot. As we walked (and slipped), the kids started to follow us. You could hear them giggle because we obviously looked like we had no idea what we were doing. Well, we almost reached the camp soaking wet and unharmed, until the baptism occurred. Andy was almost at the church and about to cross a little creek when he began to slip and could not stop. He plunged into the creek about waist deep. We were all extremely worried, but then turned it into a joke as the day went on. Although it may sound cruel, Mom swears it would have been a funny video to capture the look on his face. Some have called him “Ditch Man” and others have called him “Andy the Baptist”.
We finally reached the camp, and participated in another kids camp day. The rain got worse, and when we looked out the window we noticed groups of kids running around in the rain playing soccer, sliding through the puddles head first, and floating through the creeks. Many of these kids decided it was just easier to ditch the clothes and run. Because of the weather, we decided to leave early in order to make sure we would reach the airport in time. The people really took care of us. They grabbed umbrellas for us, and walked us back out to the vans. I don’t mean to exaggerate, but the walk was probably almost half a mile. The puddles were even deeper at this point, some of which came up to my knees. One young girl about my age noticed Mom was a little nervous and she grabbed her arm and held onto her and helped her through the mud. Kids followed us staring at our legs, and one kid yelled at Dad to stop and ran over and pulled a leach off his leg. These Nepali people are incredible. They would do anything for you.
I can honestly say I am pretty sure I have never been that dirty before in my life, yet I didn’t complain. It’s unbelievable how all the sudden some things just don’t matter as much anymore. I didn’t worry about what I was stepping through, or how much mud had slung all over my back. I didn’t get upset when my books in my bag got wet, or when I noticed mud all up my pants (and somehow up my shirt on my shoulder...go figure). The workers told me not to walk in the church yet, and a few seconds later someone turned the corner with a huge bucket of water and a bowl. As I reached for the bowl to help clean my feet, they said no, and they immediately grabbed the bowl and started cleaning my feet, legs, and clothes. Humbling is the only way to describe it.
My favorite part of the day was watching the kids during song time. I have never seen kids worship the way these kids do. They genuinely raised their hands and closed their eyes. During prayers, they even mumbled their own. Even the smallest kids there. On the car ride back we mentioned this to Gajendra, and his response was, “There is no Junior God and there is no Junior Holy spirit, so we teach our kids to worship just as we do.” Genuine worship is what it is, through song, dance, and service.
I know this is long, so I will wrap it up with this, I can’t even imagine what our churches would be like if we served each other like the Nepali people do, and if we taught children to worship the way we wish our adults would.
Sorry no pictures still, the internet connection is not very good. I will work on that! But I am not making any promises.
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