I’ll be honest. The reason I chose Route One for the race was for one reason and one reason only. It had the most Spanish-speaking countries on it. And that is it. That was my deciding factor. I never even looked at any of the other countries. I didn’t blog about each country I’d be going to or list off a bunch of facts about their cultures, like some racers did. I didn’t Google their weather patterns, cultural norms, or anything else. In fact, when I wrote a blog listing the countries I’d be traveling to, I copied and pasted the list and descriptions straight from the World Race website. I didn’t care about where I was going or when I’d get there. I just knew I was going … with Jesus.
So it will come as no surprise that I knew absolutely nothing about India until I heard other racers talking about it a month before we were to come. Well, actually I knew two things. My friend lived here for three months and the two things he told me were, “I shower and wash clothes in this little red bucket,” and “Don’t touch the monkeys. They are violent.” Other than that, I was clueless about what I was walking into.
We were still in the Philippines when we began to hear about all the riots happening in India. Ahh, the Philippines: where life was familiar. There was a McDonalds at the end of our street and a Starbucks a kilometer or so away. The grocery store sold western items and everything was so cheap it was ridiculous. Our month in the Philippines was nice. It was fun and relaxed and for the most part, peaceful. It was … comfortable.
I didn’t want to come to India.
I didn’t want to leave the PI at all.
I didn’t want to go, yet again, to the unknown.
So I did the only logical thing and prayed all month that God would mess up our visas and send us to Thailand instead.
Turns out, our visas did have problems for the whole month and we got them literally hours before we boarded our plane. That night during travel, the Lord began to soften my heart to India. It was the weirdest thing because suddenly instead of resisting the unknown, I found myself excited for it. When our plane landed around midnight we were all exhausted but had another bus ride ahead of us. Thankfully, our contact Doug took us to a nearby convent to rest for the night. The next day God gradually fueled the fire He put in me for India the night before. As a squad we had corporate worship and prayed mighty prayers over our month here. Each second that went by God added more passion to my spirit about what I may encounter here.
That night I told my team, “I am tired of being comfortable. I’m tired of having it easy. That’s not what I signed up for. I’m ready to be stretched again. I’m ready to be so exhausted that I cannot take one more step unless Jesus moves my legs. I’m ready to be at my wit’s end with flesh – to the point where I’m like, ‘God, I WILL NOT make it through another day without you.’”
A few hours later, 11 of us got into a nine-passenger jeep with our bags and headed out to catch an overnight bus ride. Unsure of what was ahead of us and crammed in the back of the vehicle, we made it out to the road and set our eyes on what was our first impression of India.
Nasty.
The absolute worst smells I have ever smelled.
People everywhere.
Very rural. Excuse me, but where’s the nearest Starbucks?
Beggars knocking on our window.
Heat.
Trash.
Chaos.
Yes, that’s the word. Chaos.
And right then, before I knew what was happening, everything in me screamed, “RETREAT! Retreat now.”
I’m sorry, what? “Do NOT proceed. Retreat now! Retreat back to what you know. Where you came from. The known. The comfortable. The easy. The… familiar.”
All I could think about was the Philippines and the people there who I’d grown to love so much. My babies in the riverbeds, the missionaries who took care of us, the beds and the clear air and the Wi-Fi. Life made sense there. And now this … this, chaos … retreat and do it now.
Well, packed into a jeep with 10 other people, 3 of them being my squad leaders, retreating was not an option. And good thing, because as soon as I stepped out of the jeep onto Indian soil, something changed.
The stench still there, but I didn’t smell it.
The trash was still there, but I didn’t see it.
The heat was still there, but I didn’t feel it.
The chaos … well, it was still there. But somehow I saw peace.
“You are my rest. You’re where my help comes from. You are my peace. When the chaos is surrounding me. My rest…” – The song Holli sang over our squad ran over and over in my mind. I was ready for this. It was what He had prepared me for.
To be uncomfortable.
And two days into my life here, this was my Facebook status:
{India Update!} India is amazing. Not because we have beds or toilets or showers or reliable wifi, 'cause we don't. But because we are constantly uncomfortable, always stinky and dirty, and pray the Internet works long enough for us to post a FB status. Ya see, I'm finding that the more comfort we're given, the more we think we deserve. YET, put us in a place where all comfort and normalcy is stripped and we find joy in the smallest things. You've never seen 6 people more excited to find out there was ice cream at the end of our dinner last night. Dinner that we did not recognize nor could we pronounce the name of. Today, wherever you are around the world, try going without something you're used to. Stretch yourself – and in that, find that your strength is not enough, nor will it ever be. But His…. His is more than enough.
Peace, love, and spicy curry ,
Ashli in India
____________________________________________________________________________
Pictures
Picking out fabric for our new Indian clothing!
The morning after our overnight bus ride to our minsitry location!
Holding sweet babies at the orphange. LOVE.
Trying on sarees … I felt like an Indian princess!!
Indian street food … pray for my tummy! 😉
