Welcome to India!
Before I came to India I thought that I was mentally prepared for two realities:
-The food is spicy.
-The weather is hot.
The India of my mind was populated by shy men and women dressed in vivacious fabrics with a sincere love for a daily jolt of spice. Temperatures were really hot during the day but comfortably cool at night. Both of these misconceptions were trashed when I came face to face with the stark realities of India:
-Food here is SPICY… very spicy. Few things are not spicy.
-The weather is HOT. Stupid hot. It doesn’t really ever ‘cool off’.
At this point in the race I can confidently say that I can deal with the weather. After spending 3 months in Asia and 1 month in the humidity of Australia I’m used to sweat. However the spice took me by surprise…
Indian Hospitality.
On our first official day here in Suryapet our contact took us out to buy traditional Indian clothing, (we’re required to wear punjabi’s and sari’s for ministry), at a local shop and we were invited to the shop owners home for dinner. I was nervous about the food before we arrived but as we climbed the spiraling stairs to his large apartment I was determined to do my best to honour our host and eat what was given to me.
I thought that I would be given the opportunity to place my own food on my plate so that I could control the amounts of spicy food that I was given. This has been the practice in each of the other Asian countries we’ve visited. You are expected to finish what you are given so you only dish out a small amount. If you liked something or wanted more you put a little more on your plate and if you find that you’re struggling to eat it the amount is still managable for you to finish and not waste food.
India is not like that. My first real introduction to Indian hospitality and food left my plate piled high, (people just kept throwing more stuff on there), and my stomach burning. fIt was a fight to keep eating it but I tried. Finally when I really couldn’t do it anymore they whisked the plate away and brought out fruit salad, then pop (a pepsi product called ‘Thums Up’) and finally chocolate in honour of the man’s son who had just has a birthday.
That night at about 3:30 am I awoke sweating with a terribly sick stomach. I drank water hoping it would put out the fire, it didn’t… and I threw up for 8 hours.
From around 3:30 am until 11:30 am I made the trip out of our room to the squatty potty to throw up and then back again about every 40 mins. That would have been bad enough but remember India is insanely hot. I kept drinking water but I wasn’t keeping anything down for very long and I ended up getting dehydrated. So I spent the rest of that day drinking water and rehydration packages in a mad attempt to curb the thirst.
It’s a little bit funny looking back, (I guess I have a weak stomach…), but at the same time it was seriously miserable. I was excited to come to India. It is a nation that I have prayed for since I was a little girl. In fact I choose this route because India was included. It was extremely frustrating to arrive here and become physically sick because of the food. Several times during that day I cried in frustration and demanded that God tell me what was going on and his response was, “You’re going to have to fight for India…”
*There is more to come! I wrote this story out and I’ve put it into sections. I’ll post it as I get internet. 🙂
