Divine Encounters - God is Full of Them

July 7, 2010 (Wednesday)

The team split into a couple different groups today. Some stayed at the camping site, others went to pass out more seeds in the villages, and the team I was on hiked to the top of one of the nearby mountains. My team consisted of Dani, Brittany, Alex, Zak, and me. Backpacks full with vegetable seeds (just in case we met someone on our hike), apples and an onion, knives, definitely toilet paper, et-cetera, we swiftly departed at 11 am after breakfast was clean up.

It hadn't rained since I awakened and I was really hoping that it wouldn't rain for the rest of the day. The forest/jungle floor was already drenched and everything, even me after 15 minutes was damp. The tall tress contained all the moisture beneath them. It was like walking in a giant steamer. I, for a moment, imagined myself filling up with water like a rice grain. I was about to explode when I snapped out of it walking across some very slippery rocks. It wasn't once that my teammates slipped and I definitely saw Brittany on the ground more than once. Altogether, the first hours was loaded with beautiful scenery, exotic mushrooms, and unusual plants.

As we ascended higher, the view of the surrounding mountains became even more breath-taking. We settled on a plateau about half way up the mountain to rest our burning calves and eat lunch. We ate apples, I split an onion with Dani in which we ate like an apple (bad decision), and Wai Wai (the Indian equivalent of Top Ramen). On the opposing mountain, we could clearly see Pujalti (the village we were camping in) and Moldar (one of the villages nearby Pujalti that we visit often) from where we were.

We sat for about 10 minutes enjoying the view and the food when we heard some voices in the distance. The voices grew louder. They were approaching. Within the minute, 3 ladies no taller than 5 feet emerged onto the plateau. We exchanged awkward non-verbal gestures before they started asking us questions in Hindi. It quickly became apparent that we knew very little Hindi so they settled with smiling, encouraging us to follow them via waving, and repeating "chelo" - come on. People are so friendly here. We agreed, "hanji" - yes, and asked "upar ya neeche?" - up or down? They replied, "upar" and pointed up the mountain. We strapped our backpacks back on and continued our ascent, now accompanied with 3 new friends.

They coaxed us up a very steep part of the mountain. We followed. After 20 minutes, we reach another plateau but much farther up the mountain (these ladies walked quickly). They could tell we were pooped, even Dani who plays Division I soccer at the University of Arkansas, so we rested while they dispersed into the surrounding area. Dressed in traditional Indian clothing, sporting rubber shoes probably 2 sizes too small or too big, and hair braided back under 2 Garhwali bandanas, these 3 ladies began climbing trees with the ease and grace of a langoor (grey monkey). They hacked away branch after branch with sharp sickles, each a building block for a giant bundle I could see quickly forming. One of the ladies, obviously the youngest, probably 15, began cutting wild grass growing in large clumps with her sickle. The sickles were super, super sharp. They could probably easily murder a mountain goat with them. She packed it into a large sack that was bigger than her, probably twice her size in volume.

Meanwhile I, still unevenly breathing, began taking pictures and recorded a short video blog. The mountains and superhero Tarzan ladies were just too remarkable to not capture in some form. However, the pictures and video did not do them justice. I set my camera down and opted to just rest in awe. The mountains are so wild and big and indescribable. I can't imagine how God built them all and carved them with the flood. Oh, and I forgot to mention that God healed my ankle a couple nights prior so I was marveling at how... normal it was sitting on the top of this mountain. It hurt every time my foot landed at an awkward angle and I was sure it was going to get worse so I prayed for God to heal it if he wanted me to hike through these mountains. The following morning of when I prayed, it felt like a different ankle. God is so incredible!

Still marveling, I laid out my poncho and closed my eyes. Even though the sun blazed through my eyelids, I rested for about 20 minutes. I dreamt about running at top speed off of one of the peaks and opening mechanical wings. I could soar through the sky like a flying squirrel witnessing the majesty of the Himalayan Mountains from a bird's eye view. And when I started getting too low, a gust of wind could blow me up to peak-level again. "Chelo!" The ladies startled me awake. They were finished collecting branches and grass for their cows and water buffalo.

The bundles were staggering! They must have been 6 ft x 6 ft x 4 ft and packed tightly with ropes and vines. To pick them up, the ladies would lean their backs up against them after propping them up onto a hillside, plant their feet firmly in the ground, and then in an amazing feat of back and leg strength, roll into a prostrate position, often taking a couple of steps forward due to the incredible momentum. These ladies were studs! They still hadn't broken a sweat! The one 15-year old girl dead lifted her sack, tightly packed with grass, onto her shoulder, and then rolled it up her neck and onto her head! It must have weighed 45-60 lbs. And then, we started walking down the hill.

Oh yeah! No problem. I had to take a nap when I got to the top of the mountain but these ladies were climbing 40-ft. trees! And now they were descending probably 60-degree declines carrying loads bigger then them on their backs and heads. And they were fast! At times, I was having trouble keeping up with them. They defied the laws of physics. Each probably weighed close to only 110 lbs. I was so much in awe. Nothing made sense. And I'm guessing it was written on our faces because they were laughing and smiling the whole while. Oh, and I forgot to mention, they hadn't had a sip of water thus far and I was almost finished with my 800 mL Klean Kanteen water bottle.

About 15 minutes into our descent, the ladies put their bundles down and dispersed again. What were they up to? We didn't know the way down since we took a different path than on the way up, so we sat down and sang hymns while we waited for them. Fifteen minutes later, they reappeared with grins on their faces. I knew they were up to something. One of the ladies held out a petite bundle of branches neatly wrapped like a present in vines. I walked up and grabbed it and understood. They were asking us to carry some cow food down with them. I excitedly replied by placing it on my head and smiling. It was probably 5 lbs. They must have thought I was a weakling. The good news? They must have thought my whole team was a bunch of weaklings because they whipped out 4 more same-sized bundles and handed one each to my teammates. They responded similarly and gladly placed their respective bundles on their heads. With added weight and joy, we descended the mountain in 50 minutes, what took us 2 hours to climb. We were honorary Garhwali women.

After we set the bundles down at one the lady's house, she treated us to chai and some weird Indian cookies that were horrendous but thoughtful nevertheless. We sat on a rug o her roof. We drank up and quickly left to make it clear that we weren't interested in compensation for what little we helped. She was grateful and waved us farewell. Before we left, we prayed for her, her family, and her household. I pray this bright lady saw the love of God in us today.

We returned to the camping site and told our host father about all we had seen and done. He was extremely excited and the reason was so appropriate. The 3 ladies we helped were part of households that, for the last 12 years my host parents have been visiting Deolsari, been unfriendly and at times hostile towards them. "What happened today," my host father rejoiced, "may have opened up a huge window of opportunity and trust." God so blessed me with divinely meeting these ladies on the mountainside in the middle of absolutely no where. Praise God!!

Since I've left the States, I've been praying about who to gift 3 baseballs the WVU baseball team signed. In the past weeks, the answer had become ever clearer - the 3 Christian boys in Pujalti village. So, after dinner, Brittany and I told the boys, who just so happened to be around when the baseballs were amidst the forefront of my thoughts and prayers, that we had a gift for them. We told them that through accepting these baseballs, they would help Brittany and I bless the baseball team back home in Morgantown, as well as tell the baseball team about the faiths of these 3 young, bright lights. I think I was even more excited to give these kids these baseballs than they were to receive them. Nevertheless, they were excited...and confused. They had never seen a baseball in their lives and I don't think they understood the concept of a signature - how signatures magically make common day items into collectibles. Their first reaction: they threw them on the dirty concrete to see if they would bounce. We had a good laugh and that was that. I wonder what they'll do with them?

After dinner, while Brittany, Kirra, and I were doing dishes, a crowd of children surrounded us. I could tell they wanted something. "Kya?" - "what," I asked. "Peela goo," a bunch of them shouted. "Peela goo" means "yellow poop." Apparently, one of the children had seen one of the pictures of funny poop I had on my camera and told all the other ones. After we finished the dishes, I pulled out my camera an shoed all of them the now highly-acclaimed picture of peela goo. Of course, they all (around a dozen) burst into laughter. Elated with the natural comedy of poop, we set out together in a real-time journey to search for REAL POOP!

Within the first minute, I found a nice pile of poop with plenty of character in what seemed to be an open courtyard. The kids, again, died from laughter and also informed me that 2 piles of poop had evaded my sight while getting to the one I was now crouched next to. The absurdity of the situation hit me at that moment and all of us laughed for a good 2 minutes straight. I'm glad poop is funny no matter where you are in the world. In addition, this latest poop escapade had elevated me to celebrity status in Pujalti. All of the kids' eyes were fixed on me so I took advantage of the situation and captures all of their cute faces on video.

After the video, we sang and played fun games like Kung Fu (of while I also have a video) and Fire on the Mountain. It was beautiful to see low caste and high caste children all playing together. While the caste system is somewhat dwindling in more urban areas, it is still a big deal in the villages. While we were doing dishes, one of the children asked what caste I was in. I find it very interesting how up-front they are about asking that kind of question. It made me think about how in America, we don't have castes but we subconsciously apply castes, or social classes to people and because of it, treat people a certain way accordingly. It was cute really. I got to respond, "There is no caste system in the kingdom of God. Everyone is equal because they are all children of God. Isn't that neat?"