Slumming it

I got up in the dark. The electricity had gone during the night, so I worked on the laptop in the dimness of the slowly creeping morning. My host family was still asleep under their mosquito net. There was no chair in their room - and the sciatica in my left leg was killing me - so I put a few stools together and stood up - trying to type in interviews from the day before.

Gradually the sleeping forms on the floor stirred. One by one my hosts woke up, went out the door and down the steps to the toilet they share with their Muslim landlord. The net was folded up and the bed was rolled away. A porridge made and a new day begun.

We were in a small brick room at the edge of a large slum pocket in Eastern Delhi - near the border of UP. The gray winter morning awaited us outside. A quick prayer and we had gathered for breakfast - while the youngest son was dressed up in the uniform of the local school - "The Green Crescent School" was what I remember from his blazer.

The morning dishes were washed from a small tap, from water which had been carried up the steps. The waste water was then taken out to discard.

My host and I stepped out into the mud - a bit of a rain splatter during the night had turned what was dusty into what is muddy. The wonderful Hindi word "Kichard" came to mind.

But all around me was beauty.

I had been deeply privileged to have spent a few hours with an amazing Australian family who have for the past decades been living a prophetic life among the poor. "All for love's sake became poor" goes a song about our Lord - and my friends have and are doing that. Their 11 year old son is a minor genius - and loves seeing life statistically - while being the school boy he is and wrestling with his father and 6 year old brother in the evenings.

I was in Delhi to help evaluate the SHALOM Delhi AIDS programme. I ended up being evaluated myself. By the grain of the lifestyle that our dear friends have humbly and without fanfare adopted.

Unless a seed of grain dies...

Airplanes

We have done a fair bit of flying as a family recently.

After our lovely vacation with Amma and Appa in Vishakapatnam, we 4 Eichers had lunch with them, then boarded a Jet-Lite flight to Hyderabad and then on to Mumbai - and were here in the evening. This generous gift to us enabled a wonderful week to be capped off beautifully by us swooping down to Mumbai through the evening sky, gliding down past the orange-hued Western Ghats.

Then the next week I took an Air Deccan flight to Delhi. After a good 3 days of happy slogging on the SHALOM Delhi HIV Programme evaluation, I was back on a Spicejet flight to Mumbai.

This evening Mum and Dad missed a flight from Bangalore to here - they had just had supper and were rechecking their flight tickets for tommorrow evening's flight - when they realised that the flight had left an hour ago - today! We talked over the phone about it - and prayed - and soon a friend of theirs booked another ticket for tomorrow evening. Just in time for Asha's 7th birthday on the next day (the 16th of Jan!).

As I type - Peter, Yashmeet and Anmol are getting ready to board their flight from Hyderabad to Nairobi. We talked with them too - and prayed. Only the Lord can keep them safe.

We rest on Thee, our Shield and our Defender!
We go not forth alone against the foe;
Strong in Thy strength, safe in Thy keeping tender,
We rest on Thee, and in Thy Name we go.

Back in the DDR

Our histories continue to structure who we are. And who we will be.

Take the dear old DDR - thats Deutsche Demokratische Republik - or GDR - German Democratic Republic as it was called.

East Germany - now defunct as a political state - but still a part of many people's lives.

In our case the life of Christa Eicher nee Fischer. My mother.

And Willie and Roesli Fischer - her parents - whom we grand-kids got to see only a few times in our lives before they died. And that too in 1975 and 1980 respectively.

Not much to remember - thanks mainly to the gross lie of scientific materialism (a.k.a. communism - at least in the East German flavour of it).

I remembered the DDR recently while giving a bath to our kids and their neice Anmol. I remember having a bath with my brother Stefan in the large bathtub of my grandmother's tiny socialist appartment in grey Reichenbach. I remember the empty streets of the town - and the curiously empty stores. It all seemed at the time more 'advanced' than what we had in the India of that day, but the contrast to the bustling West Germany was stark.

One of the few TV programmes we were allowed to watch in that place was a puppet show each evening called the Sandman. At the end of the episode, we would come and sprinkle sand in the eyes of the kids and everyone would sleep. Sort of like the whole society did - but with their eyes open as they accepted and parroted the lies of the socialistic state.

One of the strangest memories of the time - however - was a game we played with Dad. He would go into the bedroom of our grandmother and hide - and we would try and find him. He normally hid under the enourmous feather-blanket or some other fairly obvious place. But once we just could not find him. Anywhere. The window was open and I wondered if he had jumped out of the 2nd floor flat. Finally he emerged. He had somehow squeezed himself up in the very top of a cupboard. An amazing feat.

I think we will delve a little more into the late great DDR in a few days. In the meantime, sleep calls.

Kenya

We have been thinking and praying a lot for Kenya these days - as the country seems to be spiralling into ever greater circles of violence.

Peter, Yashmeet and Anmol were due to head back on the 7th but have postponed to the 15th. Bro Vinogee - their Elder in the Assembly they attend - has already returned with his family and says that they have 4000 police in the area they live in - but that food and supplies are scarce - and very expensive.

The vicious cruelty being meted out is hard to believe. What a broken and messed up world we inhabit. We have our own sets of cruelties of course - and our prayers continue for the unspoken and forgotten people in Orissa who continue to hide in the forests for fear of returning to their burnt homes and churches.

To be safe. To have security. Its what we all want and crave for.

Though we have relative freedom and safety here in Thane / Mumbai - even that is not to be taken for granted. Early in the morning on New Years day a mob of 70 odd men molested two women who had just come out of a swanky hotel with their husbands (click: here). It was only passing press photographers who shot the scenes and called the police that stopped the frenzy. How many other incidents take place without at Hindusthan Times photographer stepping in?

At the most basic level - we have only our Lord.

As a family we pray for safety for Asha and Enoch - and ask God that our home will be an ark of refuge for them and for others. But we know that times of violence are here and will continue to come. Our prayer is that our Asha will see the hope that is there and our Enoch will understand what it means to be dedicated.

To close - an email that our dear friend John Forbes just forwarded to us. This family writes from where over 30 people were burned to death after seeking refuge in a church. Please pray for them and countless others in the great land of Kenya.

From: Tom & Hellen Malande tmalande@kenyaweb.com
Sent: Wed, 2 Jan 2008 3:29 am
Subject: Update from Tom and Hellen

Dear Friends,
For many years our country Kenya has celebrated the honour of those who died in the struggle for independence and somehow worked hard for over fourty years to fight what has made it famous around the world namely-ignorance, sickness and poverty!
Today we are ashamed of what is happenning since the election was held on 27th of December 2007. The country is messy as I write. We are at the main gate of Violence and no one seems to know how to deal with difficult situation, meaning that education and civility has been shelved!
Hellen and I together with our Children, an American volunteer couple and five families that make a total of 31 people have been indoors since the election night. Houses are being burnt within a radius of 1 kilometer from where we are and that includes the church in which people were burnt. Men have run away from the area and we cannot move when we see neighbours wives and children crowd our sitting room for protection that only God can give.
One thing we have opted to do is to be still and see the Salvation of the Lord. We study the scriptures and sing gospel praise even though we get tempted to grieve. We have decided to be strong for everyone in the house though our hearts push to sink to the shoe!
We called the U.S. Embassy to alert them of the American couple and we are in touch. The couple is fine and everyone too.
We are asking that you keep praying for us. The story of Elijah is true to us as it was to him. Thousands of youth that torch houses come in three waves and pass my house running to fulfill their mission and terror reigns around. Our electricity is cut and we are in a blackout at night. The food in our deep freezer is getting finished and we have enough for two or so days now but God has given us Himself. We are no longer scared and are waiting for His direction.
We hope that the killings which have spread country wide will stop. God will not allow this to prevail against His chosen people. I am telling all my staff to remain calm wherever they are and pray for peace. Our children are learning great lessons from all this.
We have only one small bag of our documents and the Bible to walk out with in case we are asked to do so! We tell the boys that that is the only possession we have and that everything else God has given us is to bless His people.
They have shared all their clothes with the orphans who are here with us (Six orphans) and they are good friends. Huston is calling all his friends to encourage them and once in a while he goes out to their houses during the day and back.
Keep praying for us,we love you all and the Lord is in control. Nothing shall separate us from the Love of Christ and that sorts it all out for us what a joy!
In His service, Uncle Tom and Hellen Malande.

Cricket - Cracked?

Somewhere in Sydney, 22 flannelled fools are engaged in a 5 day contest which sees many an empty chair in the stadium.

We don't have a TV in our home (our two live channels - Asha Channel and Enoch Channel come free and don't need a set).

So my fix of cricket comes by SMS on my mobile.

Every morning I get a Bible verse as an SMS (I have conveniently labelled the number as 'Bible').

On days when there is a cricket match on, the "Bible" sender also sends updates on the matches. Since the current contest is in Australia - it is half over by the time we have breakfast here and so both the Bible verse and the summary of what has already happened come at about the same time - just after 8 AM.

Why does cricket appeal to us Indians?

Is it the almost tragic certainty of loss? Is it the melodrama of seeing grown men grind out often improbable outcomes? Is it the fact that it is one of the few sports where we sometimes are world-beaters? Is it the glamour of our feted heroes? Is it that the game roughly follows the plot of a Hindi movie - everyone knows what will happen - a fair amount of escapism - the obligatory bad guys (either the other team or the umpires) - an occaisional hero who comes good - and lots of people to curse if the outcome is not what we want?

Hard to pin point, but we seem to be a nation of cricket nuts.

Wasn't always this way.

While doing my forestry field research in 1993 (yikes that was a while ago), I lived for 6 months in a Himalayan village in the Naini Tal district. One of my favorite questions (way outside my research topic) was to ask the old guys of the village about the changes they had seen with their eyes.

One of the surprising responses I got was that at least in the late 40s and early 50s, football was the only game in town (make that in the small hamlets that dot the almost vertical steepness of the hills there). Whole villages would gather to see their teams play each other, and good players were feted for miles around.

It fits. A hallowed fact in our sporting history was the victory in the 1911 final of the Indian Football Association Cup by Mohun Bagan - a Calcutta Club which was the first win in a final by an Indian team. Till then all tournaments had been won by British teams based in India.

A quick take from Wikipedia tells me that:

The Indian national football team was also quite successful until the 1970s, qualifying for Olympic tournaments and the FIFA World Cup. The team qualified for the 1950 World Cup finals in Brazil, but could not appear as they still played in their bare feet at that time. The Indian team also won the 1951 and 1962 Asian Games gold medals in football. In 1956 the team finished fourth at the Melbourne Olympics.

Its been a long time since anything great has taken place in Indian football (though one of our church members is deeply into the club scene here both as a player as well as an assitant coach).

In the mean time, cricket is our fix.

Till tomorrow then - when I find out whether Ganguly and Tendulkar have been able to stave off the mighty Aussies in their home lair.

"Ahoy Sancho Panza - up and at the giants" - and on Don Quixote rushes towards the windmills with faithful Sancho in tow.

Virus

We got back from Paradise and are faced again with the virus.

On one hand its all very depressing and sad.
- The 26th of December saw another of our friends die.
- One of our long-term positive friends who was able to start a job - is now back on alcohol since he gets daily wages.
- Today one of our staff went to Mr. Babulnath's house and picked up the container into which our nurses had deposited the dirty syringe after giving him his injection as part of his TB meds. The house is empty after his death as the family have moved back to the village.
- Another positive friend with a CD4 count of 15 (!) got himself discharged from hospital because he did not like the food there and is back on the streets with his dispirited wife.
- A person who we have seen many times in our society came with the news that a releative of theirs is sick - with HIV - and they heard we do something - can we help.

The list goes on. Where does it - and when will it end.

Makes us want to go back to our parent's place in Vishakapatnam again.

And yet, this is why we are here.

We are here to see what can be done - and to face the challenges bravely and with hope. We know that many of the friends we are in touch with have intensely broken lives - and must not give in to the hopelessness that seems to shroud so many of the situations.

There is hope. It is dispensed through the faulty and limited people that we are. It is grounded in the reality of a loving God whose hands are pierced - not for self-mutilation - but because of His great on-going love for us.

We are in the right place. At the right time.

Lord, may you find us with our hands on the plough - while the day lasts.

This virus will pass. But may we be found doing all we can while there is still time to bring about healing and reconciliation.
-

A cup of chai in 2008

Its 11.54 on the 2nd of Jan.

I am dog tired.

But wired.

Cup of chai at the JSK men's hostel did it.

I stopped in to see how James was doing. Arrived at 10 PM - left just before 11 but had a big cuppa there - and know though I am tired and my back is hurting like anything (I spent just over a day of our just finished paradise-vacation flat on my back because of the pain) - and the whole Eicher household is deep in slumber - I am not.

Prayer comes at times like this. I pray especially tonight for two very troubled areas that are close to our heart - the beloved state of Orissa where hundreds of Christian Tribals are camped out in the forest because they are too scared to come back to their burnt out homes and churches - and for the great country of Kenya where years of corruption have come home to roost with what threatens to be a terrible uprising of tribe vs. tribe.

Lord have mercy - and use your people - right now - to be agents of reconcilliation - just as you are reconciling all things unto yourself. Amen.