Although it was awhile ago now, I think it still relevant to write a few thoughts about the actual campout, especially since you might have been waiting for some time now to hear what happened.
Two moments in the camping trip stick in my mind as memorable images. The first: the process and method of conveying 17 people with camping equipment (tents, pots & pans, generator, light bulbs, laptop, sound-system) and food for two days to a field on top of a mountain in north India.
As I wait for the rest of the group to arrive at the building where we gather for church, a sense of inner satisfaction wells up in me at the cinched-down snugness of my backpack with a minimal amount of gear. I am a wannabe minimalist. Then Edwin arrives in his sport utility vehicle, fairly heavily-laden with gear and equipment. “Heavily-laden” is a gentle term for overloaded. There is a pile of gear on the roof four feet tall. I have seen this before in other experiences, so at first I am not surprised. When I approach the vehicle to meet Edwin and add my little backpack to the pile on the roof I notice that the entire interior of the vehicle is also full of gear and that there actually aren’t any people inside yet. And we apparently still haven’t added any of the large pots or the food… My gut-response to the situation at this point is: it cannot be done, where is the other vehicle?
The rest of the team arrives with their stuff, and undaunted by the appearance of the vehicle, they begin to climb all over it like ants and pile up the rest of the gear on the roof, including much of the stuff from the interior, giant pots and bags of rice and vegetables and my minimalist backpack. I shrug and climb on too, as I am recruited to lash down the now elephant-sized mass of gear and equipment with a feeble rope. Standing on the running board is not high enough to really work on tying things down, so I climb up and stand on the open window at the back door, all the while marveling that we are actually only going to take this much with us for two days. Within minutes, we have secured the “elephant” to the roof and crammed most of the people in the group inside. I have the privilege of sitting in the front seat with Edwin’s twins on my lap. Three of the guys on the team drive off on the motorbike. Some of the girls and Nivedit are not present—they have walked ahead on the road and we are going to pick them up on the way... My wonderings about how and where we will put them are shortly answered when we catch up the women a few minutes later and they simply climb on to the running boards on both sides of the vehicle and we drive off. The stares and gaping mouths of the people in the cars passing us from the other direction are enough to tell that we are quite a sight to behold. I smile as I think, “I love India…”
The second image: the process of camping with Indians has its own unique style and flavor. Setting up camp in the jungle with seventeen people including little kids and a huge amount of stuff is a recipe for disaster or at least a potentially big mess and not much fun. However, in this case, it is not a disaster or a big mess, and we have a great time. I am standing in the same field where Parmesh and I stood earlier in the day, clicking poles together to set up a tent (the first of four) and I pause to look around at the group. Some of the girls are sitting together cutting up vegetables and peeling potatoes while others are starting a fire and still others filling the pots with water. Two of the guys are carrying the generator to a place a little distance away from the rest of the camp while others are stringing wire through the trees and splicing light bulb sockets into it. (Oh, my!) Edwin is setting up the sound system and his laptop for the upcoming dance party later on after dinner. A few others are emerging from the jungle with more firewood they have gathered and one of the girls is pulling sweaters onto Edwin’s kids because the sun is setting and it is starting to get cold. Everyone is smiling and talking together and there is a buzz about the campsite. I stand there in the gathering twilight and think how remarkable a thing it is to see people working together in unity or harmony so apparently natural and simple. No one is standing in the middle shouting orders. No one is sitting around with nothing to do. All are active and working together to make things happen. I am filled with happiness because I am part of it and it is beautiful. I continue snapping the poles together and clipping the tents into form and think, “I love India…”
Two moments in the camping trip stick in my mind as memorable images. The first: the process and method of conveying 17 people with camping equipment (tents, pots & pans, generator, light bulbs, laptop, sound-system) and food for two days to a field on top of a mountain in north India.
As I wait for the rest of the group to arrive at the building where we gather for church, a sense of inner satisfaction wells up in me at the cinched-down snugness of my backpack with a minimal amount of gear. I am a wannabe minimalist. Then Edwin arrives in his sport utility vehicle, fairly heavily-laden with gear and equipment. “Heavily-laden” is a gentle term for overloaded. There is a pile of gear on the roof four feet tall. I have seen this before in other experiences, so at first I am not surprised. When I approach the vehicle to meet Edwin and add my little backpack to the pile on the roof I notice that the entire interior of the vehicle is also full of gear and that there actually aren’t any people inside yet. And we apparently still haven’t added any of the large pots or the food… My gut-response to the situation at this point is: it cannot be done, where is the other vehicle?
The rest of the team arrives with their stuff, and undaunted by the appearance of the vehicle, they begin to climb all over it like ants and pile up the rest of the gear on the roof, including much of the stuff from the interior, giant pots and bags of rice and vegetables and my minimalist backpack. I shrug and climb on too, as I am recruited to lash down the now elephant-sized mass of gear and equipment with a feeble rope. Standing on the running board is not high enough to really work on tying things down, so I climb up and stand on the open window at the back door, all the while marveling that we are actually only going to take this much with us for two days. Within minutes, we have secured the “elephant” to the roof and crammed most of the people in the group inside. I have the privilege of sitting in the front seat with Edwin’s twins on my lap. Three of the guys on the team drive off on the motorbike. Some of the girls and Nivedit are not present—they have walked ahead on the road and we are going to pick them up on the way... My wonderings about how and where we will put them are shortly answered when we catch up the women a few minutes later and they simply climb on to the running boards on both sides of the vehicle and we drive off. The stares and gaping mouths of the people in the cars passing us from the other direction are enough to tell that we are quite a sight to behold. I smile as I think, “I love India…”
The second image: the process of camping with Indians has its own unique style and flavor. Setting up camp in the jungle with seventeen people including little kids and a huge amount of stuff is a recipe for disaster or at least a potentially big mess and not much fun. However, in this case, it is not a disaster or a big mess, and we have a great time. I am standing in the same field where Parmesh and I stood earlier in the day, clicking poles together to set up a tent (the first of four) and I pause to look around at the group. Some of the girls are sitting together cutting up vegetables and peeling potatoes while others are starting a fire and still others filling the pots with water. Two of the guys are carrying the generator to a place a little distance away from the rest of the camp while others are stringing wire through the trees and splicing light bulb sockets into it. (Oh, my!) Edwin is setting up the sound system and his laptop for the upcoming dance party later on after dinner. A few others are emerging from the jungle with more firewood they have gathered and one of the girls is pulling sweaters onto Edwin’s kids because the sun is setting and it is starting to get cold. Everyone is smiling and talking together and there is a buzz about the campsite. I stand there in the gathering twilight and think how remarkable a thing it is to see people working together in unity or harmony so apparently natural and simple. No one is standing in the middle shouting orders. No one is sitting around with nothing to do. All are active and working together to make things happen. I am filled with happiness because I am part of it and it is beautiful. I continue snapping the poles together and clipping the tents into form and think, “I love India…”
1 comment:
Hi Ryan . . . I was sitting up late tonight trying to make a call to a Malaysian contact for work. Decided to see what was new on tnl.org and found your blog site . . . what a pleasant surprise! It sounds like all is well. I am in the States for as long as it takes me to pay off some medical bills-had two trips to the ER and surgery to get my gallbladder out and, go figure, I only had health insurance that was effective in Europe! Oh well . . . just continuing to trust . . . blessings, aryn
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