This has been the hardest month, yet.
December 3, we waved sad goodbyes to the brothers and friends at Covenant School of Worship. My team and I then met up with the rest of our squad for a night stay at a nearby hotel close to the airport. India brought out the lice epidemic among teammates so I spent the night picking out nits of a friend’s head until close to 2 in the morning. Our group was catching a bus at 4 am so the act of unpacking my sleeping bag didn’t seem worth the effort. Plus, sleeping in a roach infested room with a million mosquitoes hovering the stained mattress, I knew I wouldn’t be falling asleep any time soon. I pulled an all-nighter before a travel day. Mistake. 4 am rolled around and my eyes were heavy to keep open. I dozed on the hour bus ride to the airport but I think that only made me more exhausted. You would think at 4 am the airport would be slow and quiet but those words don’t exist in India. We made our first flight but were about an hour late for our connecting flight in New Deli. 50 of us were scrambling through security check number two and I got shoved into another area separate from everyone else. I soon realized that I became the last person of our group to make it through so I was sprinting through gates trying to find our plane. I settled in my seat out of breath but realized we all made it on, just in time.
I woke up half way through the hour flight to catch a glimpse of the horizon line of mountain peaks outside my window. The majestic Himalayans. We made it to Nepal! We landed in Kathmandu where we unloaded and waited in a 3 hour line for a visa. We loaded up a bus that, had we been anywhere else, could have gotten us to our hotel within an hour. But, here in Nepal, roads would not be considered roads in our western context but rather dirt paths with man holes and ditches every few feet, hence our several hour long ride to our hotel. Somehow, by my exhaustion I fell sleep though our bodies were being thrown about the bus. I fell asleep so deep I woke myself up with my drool and the cheers of arrival by teammates. We were dropped off outside of Thamel, a tourist area in Kathmandu and also the area of our debrief location. Dark had descended early but didn’t effect the liveness of the country’s capital city. We started hearing muffles of English among the new language of chants of Nepalese surrounding us that had perked our ears. Westerns. Thamel is home for mountaineers and extreme climbers that do all the crazy trekking adventures so for once I felt at home being foreign in a place filled with foreigners. The roads were tight and “cobble stoned” with random rocks scattered throughout the maze of streets lined with low lit market shops and restaurants. Overhead strung lights and cascades of electrical wires intermingled with the multicolored Nepalese prayer flags. The honking was reduced compared to India but all honks reverted to a playful, du-ta-du ringing that now filled the streets.
Debrief was restful. There was time to catch up with my old Akal Esh team over American food. Time to talk through the month with squad leaders and coaches. Time to get a six dollar nose piercing. Time to spend a night in worship. Time to try and fly by Everest. Time to pray for the next month. Time to drink an actual real size cup of coffee. Time to celebrate Christmas together as a squad. Time to fall in love with Nepal and all the mountain hippies from around the world.
On December 9, team Arete and team Renovate were picked up by two off-road jeeps and our new contact, Jyoti. Through rough terrain, multiple rivers, tight railless roads, straight uphill mountain driving and 5 hours later, we made it to Hindi: our home for the next three weeks. This was our home we would have for Christmas. The village is literally planted on a side of the mountain. You can’t decided to drive or walk to a neighbor’s house without it being a literal climb, sometimes even using your hands to hoist yourself up to the next foothold. We arrived at the town’s bus stop, so we were immediately expected to hike with all our gear, including the bags of groceries we were advised to take for the three weeks (the closest grocery store was in Kathmandu). None of it all mattered when our scenic view was all mountains and the sounds were all waterfalls. We hiked a short uphill distance to the school/orphanage/church/home of our contacts. We were blessed by them as they were finishing up last minute details of the kitchen they were making for us out on the roof of their house. With a sheet of metal for a roof and two metal sheets as side walls our kitchen stood with a enough room for a plug-in electric stove top and small cabinet it rested on. We had 11 girls unload in the one bedroom and the two boys settled into the smaller of the rooms across the hall. There was literally just the right amount of room for everyone to unroll their sleeping bags and blow up their air mattresses. It was home. For at least for the first few nights. We were instructed to be ready to hike our first trek for an over night stay up in the mountains down the road. Excitement filled the teams. Excitement that tried to hide the dampened moods of no wifi, no hot water (sometime even no water at all), no heat, one outdoor toilet for 13 people, and freezing cold nights.
Thursday, we were taken to the famous Hot Springs before starting our first trek. We were able to wash and finally have clean hair. The terrifying bus ride there involved us all stuffed inside a rickety old clunker (we didn’t even have to hold on because standing up you wouldn’t have moved anywhere) that jostled across mountain terrain brushing the rim of cliffs. Suddenly we realized it was all worth the risk of our lives for the warm hot water we all huddled under in the “gender-divided” outdoor bath house. After dressing and repacking our packs we were ready for our new adventure. The climb for most of us was incredible and beautiful while for others it was a little physically straining and disheartening. We stopped to take pictures to try and capture a glimpse of our surroundings of t the border line of Tibet and Nepal, the mountain children, the rural rock villages, the vertical farm lands and random cattle, goats and chickens that greeted us along the way. Everything was so surreal and felt like a clip from, well, something like Lord of the Rings. “Simple” farm life in the mountains flogged my mind. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of surviving and living life so far away from “civilization” and yet being completely content and happy with climbing, all the time. I would say the views and sunsets would be worth a few weeks of living there but after while of eating from dishes only washed by hands and water, dirt floors and no bathrooms would definitely wear on me. We settled at the top of a mountain for a night with a fellow family from our contacts’ church. That night we killed our own chicken for dinner, de-feathered it and cooked it. After a night of ministry, prayer and bible study with the family, we joined them in giving thanks for our meal together.
The night grew as the temperature in the higher altitude dropped to about 30 degrees. Our teams huddled together for warmth as we set up camp on the dirt ground of the family’s house. I caught about 2-hours of sleep before the dal, the spices and the squad virus that was being passed along hit my stomach. I had made it to month 6 without getting sick! But the sickness had been waiting and came full force. I would get sick the night without a bathroom and only a cliff outside the door of the house. Nausea overtook my body and lost of sleep kicked me out of ministry the next morning. Our schedule had us hiking to the Tibetan border and then back home the next day. With the help of Jesus, after a rough 6 hours of hiking, I made it safely back home where I then slept for the next 14 hours. My sickness turned into the never ending cold sickness, sore throat, running nose, headache and migraine crap-ness. Both teams just kept passing back and forth the same sickness between each other. We lived in a contaminated room with no hope of healing.
The idea of having no wifi on Christmas killed us all emotionally. Most of us found time to just sit and cry together. Christmas music was banded from being played until Christmas Day. Some of us snuck watching Christmas movies, such as, all the Home Alones and the Holiday, which we thought would make things better but honestly, only left us more home sick for Christmas traditions and family.
For the next two weeks we had in the mountains, time would be spent either teaching English with the kids at the school on the first floor or painting a mural on the side of the soon to be new school building down the side of the mountain. We split of the two teams and designated a painting and teaching team. All motivation was lost for most of us. Everyone but maybe two people were having the roughest month of the race by far. Two weeks seemed like eternity and speaking with family was unreachable. Every morning was the hardest, to get out of our warm sleeping bags and walk the frigid line to the toilet outside. For me to then try and muster up energy to scrap and prime cement walls for painting drained the rest of me. Help me, Jesus.
Nights in the evening were spent in the small living space on the second floor with our host family, Jyoti, her husband, Indra, their two boys, Obed (13) and Amos (8), and the 10 orphans they watch over, huddled around a few space heaters. Most nights we prayed that we actually had power. Power outages left us scrambling for headlamps, tea and blankets. We took turns teaching English and Nepalese worship songs and then had moments to share a message or teaching with the kids. That was a new challenge for me this month, to learn how to preach to a generation under the age of 7. Afterwards, we just spent time laughing over the Amos jokes and culture differences while Obed taught some of the girls how to play the jambe. Nights like these made me breath a little easier.
I decided this month could only be as good as I was going to allow it to be. I pulled out an empty journal from my pack and began writing out a thankful list. Thankfulness started changing my environment and response to serving. Excitement came for me one night when having to bundle up for an invitation to go out in the freezing cold and pray for a sick woman down the mountain. “Sick” was an under statement. This woman looked and felt dead. After climbing up a short ladder to the second floor of a house and ducking into a two-room spaced area we found the sick woman buried under several blankets in the corner of the one room. There was a few of us that had crowded into the vicinity and laid our hands on her. She was lifeless. No sound or noise came from her. Her daughter, who looked nearly 6 years old, took care of her by warming her feet with a recycled bottle filled with hot water and spoon fed a tea cup of hot water. Jyoti had to lever her up and support her by leaning up against her to keep her up. The woman eyes could barely open. We learned the woman had fallen and suffered with heart problems. We prayed life and an anointing of healing over her. I was reminded of a scripture verse I had read that morning,
“You who seek God, let your hearts revive.” Psalm 69:32
Revive. The only word I felt I could only keep praying over this woman. Revive her, Jesus. Revive her heart for you, for her family, her pursuit of you. Revive the lives of her unbelieving family members, her Hindu parents. Amber, who sat by this woman the whole night holding her cold hands could feel the warmth of temperature change in this woman’s body. Jyoti began asking the woman questions to which the woman began muffling answers back from underneath the blanket. The family who sat outside the room were surprised to hear the woman speak. Praise Jesus for miracles! We prayed for her and the family once more before leaving for the night. We promised we would return to check on her in the morning. My heart knew she would be fully awake tomorrow and sitting upright on her own. To our biggest surprise that next morning, we walked right by the woman because we didn’t even recognize her. She not only was sitting upright in her bed but was moving around and was crying as we laughed and prayed for her once more. We then learned that two members of her family had promised Indra they wanted to come to church and hear more about Jesus!
Week two and progress was taking place with our mural. We moved from scrapping cement to actually throwing down colors of paint that turned into shapes of trees and forms that represented animals. We had decided on painting out the creation sequence based on a vision Brooke, a team member of team Renovate had for the school. Creation of life from spoken life. God spoke life into existence and then it existed. Simple as that. We, filled with the Holy Spirit, can speak “life” or thankfulness and watch as our current situation or in the sick woman’s story, people, can actually change. God turns our sorrow into joy (John 16:20) when we choose to allow him. He fills us up with the fullness of gladness by his presence (Acts 2:26) and continues to choose us by anointing us to boldly proclaim the mystery of the gospel and publish the good news of happiness to those around us. (Isaiah 52, Ephesians 6). The healing of the sick woman was not only for her to be better, but I believe it was a divine moment God used to minister to her family for spiritual healing for them all.
I am writing this blog with a few more days leading up to our last days here and just days away from Christmas. I am choosing thankfulness daily which is allowing an environment of joy this season. Pray for our teams and all the teams across the global without family this December. I miss you, Mom, Dad, Matt, Jon, Adi, Hannah and Em! Merry Christmas family and friends! You are extremely missed this year! Turn up the Christmas music and drink some extra peppermint mochas for me. But above all, remember the true reason for the season.
Love,
Kirst
