No news from India

I received an email the other week with the subject titled “Urgent Kristina and Kara!!!” and it began, “We have not heard from India and we need news to put in the Walla Walla Collegian…” and it was signed, “Sincerely, Student Missions.” Wow, three exclamation marks! For a second it felt nice, we’re out of sight but thankfully we haven’t been forgotten. I thought about the email the rest of the day but instead my warm feelings of not being forgotten were slowly changing. By evening I felt burdened to write an article and wished I could forget the whole idea or maybe people at home could just forget me. What do I have to write? I have no life changing experiences to write about and nobody wants to read an article titled, “Life in India,” how lame, right? So, that’s what I did, I forgot about the email and the request for an article. I have nothing of interest to say, why waste good space in the collegian where someone else could write something exciting and inspiring?

We had our first group of volunteers with Maranatha come from the states to do some medical work in the villages near our school. Kara and I were pulled from our classes to help prepare their food and be their “guides” for the next two weeks, we didn’t know how we were suppose to “guide” them but we went along anyway. They started out visiting villages where they set-up the clinics and somehow I knew enough of the language that I could help and take a brief history of each patient they saw. We took them to our market day on Wednesday and helped them barter for souvenirs after we finished our grocery shopping for the week. We provided them with a variety of our favorite Indian dishes and hid the silverware to complete the Indian dining experience, which came with courses on “How to eat using your right hand.” They had so many questions about the culture and India in general. They asked questions about plants, food, weather, illnesses, languages and even the children’s names and somehow we were able to keep providing answers, I felt like I had lived here for years and had the knowledge of a local. The weeks flew by and before I knew it they were watching a Maranatha India film reviewing the past two weeks and their adventures. They were each interviewed and in several interviews I heard from my place in the kitchen where I was preparing their last breakfast, “I just feel like the people here are so thankful for everything we’ve done and we haven’t really done anything but given a few pain killers and vitamins.” “It was an amazing experience and I’ll definitely do it again. I just love it here.” “I really will miss this place and the people.”
That’s when it hit me. The medical team had slowly become more and more comfortable here after several days, but they would never feel the way I feel about this place. Yes, they were here two weeks and they had amazing stories, pictures, and blessings. Here I am. This is my home, my language, my culture, my family, my life. And tell me, who in their right mind takes pictures of their home, family, pets, grocery store, or school and has an amazing life changing story to go along with each picture? This is my life I’ve adapted to it, everything here is just normal… now. Maybe I don’t have an exciting and miraculous story to tell or a specific life changing experience. This is my miraculous and life changing story, this everyday life that comes closer and closer to its end with every passing day. The sounds, smells, tastes, friendships, and memories will go with me forever and that is the life changing experience and the miraculous story.