India 1. Comfortable in my Own Skin

I’m not going to try and dissect anything in a particular order as I let my India experience change me as it should. If it winds up chronological so be it. It’ll likely end up as a diluted smattering of my recall and a desperate attempt to hold on to it and even go deeper than when I first experienced it. I don’t know what it will look like. And I’ll continue my prayer: Lord, help me to remember what I experienced, to let it change me as it should.

The first thing I remember about filming in India, beside being blindsided by Calcutta and its profound imagery lining the streets that broke me after the trip from airport to hotel, is the intimidation I felt. Maybe it was insecurity. Maybe inexperience holding a big camera over the heads of a foreign culture in a place on the other side of the globe from my comfort zone. Or the gasp/spasm/paralysis I felt somewhere inside that nearly froze me. During our first few stops on a Calcutta tour, I felt extremely out of place. I was intimidated to bring out the camera. I hadn’t anticipated how it would feel to be a tall white guy with a big video camera penetrating a chaotic stream of people and cars and poverty, being watched and second-glanced, making me feel uncomfortable in my own skin. Who was I to step into their stream and document it in a medium that could potentially ‘reveal all’ to thousands of people getting a first impression of India through this footage? Who was I as someone who had clothes on my back, a full stomach and a place to call home to point out the lack thereof in the lives of those at whom the camera pointed? Who was I going to be in India--sheepish and watching it go by? Or an active participant proactively looking for and listening to the story of God as told by the people of India?

I didn’t bring out the camera on my own strength. It’s my job, so I had to, sure, but beyond that, starting to feel comfortable in my own skin was a gift. Not that I wasn’t aware every single second in public that I looked different than everyone else (other than our small group of 4, I went 4 days without seeing another Caucasian) and that I was “one of these kids, doing his own thing,” but something changed that made me ask a different question.

Who was I not to document a few sentences of the behemoth story of India on camera? What a privilege to be in that place with the responsibility of helping to show changed lives, deliverance from the demonic, disease and idol worship. What a privilege to have conversations with men and women on the front lines of the 10/40 window--a camera ‘just happening’ to be on. What a privilege to be challenged by these beautiful people who know far better than I what it means to consider the cost of calling yourself a Christian.

It was never easy. I felt self-conscious each time I brought out the camera. But I realized a few great truths through the production:

1. We’re all trying to figure each other out. Getting video footage is one way to document the goings on of a culture. And nobody really cares that you’re there. Seriously. With a common-sense approach and a smile, most will receive the mild intrusion with a returned smile and more often than not a slight glimmer in their eye of potential stardom. I didn’t get one evil eye or look. Just a snake charmer who followed me a couple of blocks for a few Rupees.

2. I can now officially shoot anywhere. Losing more pride is always good. I’ve made a fool of myself in front of more people I care to count. Holding an oversized video camera, while attracting attention, is a walk in the park over wearing spandex and fumbling with an Italian accent in front of hundreds of peers. And it pushes me to see beyond the shot into the story.

3. As much as I can go there, sometimes against my will, it’s never about me. I’m a little drip in an ocean. If I don’t give credit and honor where it belongs, something like rocks will do the job for me. And when I do acknowledge that it is God’s gifting, both to be involved in a project like this and my own set of gifts, I am at peace. Don’t you want peace?

Thanks for hanging in there. And if you prayed for me (you know who you are-not just saying it but actually doing it), thank you. It made a noticeable difference.

Re-entry.

I'm home. I actually got home a day early because I didn't want to fly into Bangkok and its chaos, so rerouted the other way around the world and got in Monday. Thus far it's been a tough re-entry in many ways, but I'm so very, very grateful to be home. Seeing Mary at the airport made the 15-hour "stomach flight" worth it. I feel like I left it all on the field and stumbled across the finish line emotionally and spiritually spent.

And mm hmm, I got sick. No idea which of the 2 million different bacteria or bugs I could have picked up, but I started Malaria testing today and started on the Z-pack to hopefully get rid of the stomach issues.

As for actually understanding where I've been and what I've been up to and who I am now because of it, I'll be processing this for months, I know. 9 days in India is so wildly difficult and emotional and hard and hopeful and humbling that I can only hope to convey some of what I saw and experienced.

It's hard to watch tv and the silence while Mary is at work is strange. I see fast-moving images of street life in India and hear the honking and shuffle when I close my eyes. I wonder how it is that I can be home and comfortable with anything I could possibly need when the low-caste man with no feet hand-pedals himself around asking for money. How do I reconcile the fact that I was born into such 'wealth,' so very different than what I saw in India?

I met a guy at church on Sunday who told me to not draw any conclusions for 6 months-let the experience settle for a while, process, but don't draw conclusions. Easier said than done, I think, but I'll try.

Just a few pics for now and then (after I get some more sleep) I'll try to flesh out a few of the more significant images into digestible bytes, mostly for my sake. Thanks for continuing to follow and I am continuing to pray 'God, don't let me forget this.'

Pics: the 2 'fort-like' pictures are from the Agra fort. I'm horrible with history, but it was built to protect the Moghul influence in Agra. There are monkeys all over India-you see lots of them in the wild, even around town, and they are exploited for their intelligence in song and dance routines by peddlers. This (reeces) monkey was one of about 30 I saw at the fort just running around. I could have high-fived this guy but decided against getting bitten. And yes, that is really me at the Tajmahal. That was a long Saturday trip to Agra (thanks Dewy!) but I can most definitely say I've been there and done that. There are signs around Agra congratulating its residents that the Taj has been moved up to be #1 on the 7 Wonders of the World list. Not quite sure how that works...but it is astounding, built entirely of white marble-and fascinating story linking that and the Agra Fort. The wiring is actually not telephone wires like the popular e-mail depicts, but electrical. Someone told me that 40% of those using electricity in India are ripping it off, tapping into these lines and jimmy-rigging their own power source. Pretty funny. And pretty ingenious.

I'm praying

That I will never forget what I've experienced here in India. 

I've been jotting quick notes in a moleskine in attempts to keep everything I've seen, done, heard, smelled and touched in Kolkata, Varanasi and now Delhi, India. Truthfully, it has been one of the most intense experiences of my life and I'm overwhelmed at not being able to unpack anything in the past 6 days. Internet has been spotty at best and we've been running most of the time, so I haven't been in touch since Bangkok. I've got a list of images written down, experiences I've had that I could/should spend the next 6 months making part of me. 

I've wept uncontrollably, been so proud of people, a little amazed at myself and overly convinced of the power of prayer. My heart has been massaged and I've seen firsthand the results of Godly miracles. I've been inundated with stimulus to the point of having to close my eyes on taxi rides. 

I appreciate those of you who have followed this and even recently asked why the blog hasn't been updated. Know that I've wanted to respond to each e-mail, just haven't had the capacity or connectivity to do it. I'm thankful for family and friends praying for my health and protection--and to get the story of India captured in moving pictures. 

If pictures are worth 1000 words, here begins the dissertation of my India journey. I'm absolutely humbled.

pic 1: Much of our time has been spent traveling. We started in Calcutta (Kolkata) and spent 2 days there, then to Delhi for a night and Varanasi for a day and now back in Delhi. I'm getting a flavor for several Asian airlines.

pic 2: on the Ganges River in Varanasi. Varanasi is considered the holiest city in India with thousands of years of history. This is an idol worship ceremony on the river (more to come on this). 

pic 3: as I was filming the river before the ceremony, I met a couple young men who were wondering what I was doing with the camera. They were so gracious to teach me about the ceremony and the significance of it to their Hindu culture. As you can see from this picture, big crowds gather around cameras!

pic 4: There isn't a picture that can capture the intensity of the numbers of people in India. It boasts 17% of the world's population and the three cities I've visited are bustling cities with very little personal space.

Gold, Buddha, Chinatown

Again, I wish I had more to offer in the way of unpacking all that we're seeing and experiencing. It is said a picture is worth 1000 words. I'll take it at this point. The Buddha shot was taken at the head of a 100 yard reclining Buddha. The palace on the lawn is the Royal Grand Palace where previous kings of Thailand lived. A couple of architectural shots. And me in Chinatown. The Tuk Tuk ride was nuts-hoping to post some video soon. The conference has been such a gift to both Mary and I. And we get to be part of this culture for a time, too? Shazam. 

Reality

In one of the messages today, Tim Addington talked about the reality of life in Thailand: astounding rates of prostitution from young children on up, young women being sold into sexual slavery by their own families, extreme brokenness. I've been thinking about some of the sobering statistics most of the day and trying to find the reflection time to let it hit my heart as hard as it should. It's sickening, despicable. It's something we'd never know about and we're sheltered from in the U.S. And if I take this experience at face value-enamored by the things that any normal human would, I'd miss the heartbeat of a country desperate for hope. Desperate to be given something more than humiliation, selling bodies for income, ultimate shame-it's easy to be a tourist. Again, it's more than I have the capacity to unpack right now, but Google some of what's going on in Thailand. It's a harsh reality. And it's happening in one form or another ALL OVER THE WORLD. 

I couldn't post any pictures today. I just uploaded them from the camera, but couldn't bring myself to post in this particular entry-not when millions of young women across the world and only minutes away from where I'm writing this are being sold for money.