not really knowing what to expect, except that G*od had spoken for us to offer ourselves, we landed and exited the plane, dressed appropriately for the culture, but still receiving countless stares. i was adjusting to emily taking the lead and remaining quiet when we were interacting with someone older than us. this usually involved me staring at the floor and occupying my thoughts with the thought that "women just get used to this".
not too long after we'd arrived we were met by our hosts who guided us to the car. with them were three lovely ladies-stella, enum and priya, each of them was enrolled in their d school. the hosts-an american and a british-stani, shared their heart for the land and introduced us to the music of the land. the american-an ethnomusicologist, had come to the stan to study the music and essentially left his heart there and kept returning and now spends about half the year there. The british-stani started a lot of the work and continues to be the voice that directs the happenings. both incredibly welcoming and encouraged by the visit.
the days began at 6am-quiet time, 7am-team prayer, 8am-breakfast....that worked one day only. We quickly realized that these people were night crawlers...in bed by 2 or 3 or 4am, not up until 10-11ish...The first couple days we saw that we were missing a lot of what was going on, and we needed to adjust! I specifically had a hard time and felt like I should stop wearing my watch so that I could adjust to the people, not the time.
Our days were filled with...
inter-sesh times that are remembered fondly, times of an open heaven, a land thirsting for focused pr*yer...
getting a heart for a nation (that I knew next to nothing about) through conversation, reading news articles and listening to more music...
eating lots of excellent food, plenty of tea, learning to cook and serve the tea as the women do...
preparing clothing and food to distribute to the families affected by the flood whom we would eventually meet...
and doing health care teachings for the those who were d-school students...these were some of the best moments...these students had a long term commitment to reaching the victims of the flood. so even if we weren't able to love on these people, care for them, give health care to them, we were able to extend our knowledge to the people who would be with them. and they were so excited about learning, they were great students and recited the songs and teachings for the days following the teachings.
our last three-four days were spent journeying to go and meet the flood victims. i guess in my head i'd had this idea of how a government, or the leaders of a nation, get together and make these plans in case of natural disasters/bombings/no resources... so when things like a flood happen, they get together and say "Okay boys, just like we practiced, plan 242C (pull down chart from the wall, all gathered in matching uniforms sigh and agree), places everyone!" and then the officials go for it and take care of all the people... well it doesn't happen like this as i found, no organized vehichles to take people to camps, no designated resources for those who lost everything...
what we came upon was groups of men and women, camped out on high places, scrounging together all that they had to care for their family...quilts as their roof, a hammock attached to a wooden frame for the family bed, and a pot and a pan. the conditions were meager at best...they had lost nearly everything...the crops, the clothing, the food. most of the people we met it had been their first time to receive anything, this was 6 weeks post flood. I don't know what they had been living off of. they were completely isolated as well, no where near the city, these are people that survive off of an agricultural income and all their fields were submerged in water.
at one place we tried to distribute the goods to people and it ended in a riot, people fighting each other, ripping food and clothing out of each others' hands. there is an unbuilt fear that there just isn't enough, only the strongest will survive...this is the fruit of poverty-it leaves people without choices.
some of the most memorable moments for me was the eagerness of the pregnant mothers to see how their babies were doing. what a confession of hope in a devastating situation-pregnancy...new life is coming...
one mother was in labour with a baby that could not be delivered normally, we were able to encourage her family and we ensured that there was transport coming for here.
one baby with a cleft lip had not been fed in days. the women were telling the mother it was impossible for her to feed the baby, so she had stopped trying. the wee baby was so flaccid, and had all the markings of dehydrated. we were able to have a little time of helping the mom attach, with all the nay-saying women around, and they saw that the baby could in fact attach and feed...beautifully. that was to me such a miracle, a baby who had been without milk for around 3-4 days, that he had the strength to nurse, and do it well. the mother smiled as we left her with a suckling baby.
another couple of mothers, absolutely anaemic, but pregnant, and so joyful. a couple of babies who had not moved for days and we could not detect a heartbeat-i continue to wonder what happened in these cases.
in each of these cases-we had a government official's wife with us (she visited often she said and was able to help with translation)! her eyes were opened to the need of the pregnant women and you could see her heart for the people was massive. she was our advocate when we saw a need that we simply couldn't meet, she was onto it.
