April 03, 2008 – 15:22 (GMT +5:30) – 32oC (89.6oF) – San Thome Rd, Mylapore, Chennai, India
Two days ago I walked out of my apartment to go get some errands done. Two of the neighbor kids were out there playing ball, but immediately stopped for the greater enjoyment of bombarding me with questions. Like who had the better cricket team, India or __________ ? To which of course I always answered India, to their great amusement.
I have not yet become accustomed to understanding the Indian form of English, and despite the fact that these children knew English pretty well, I still had to ask them a number of times to repeat what they were saying. About the third time I asked them what they had said, one of them got rather fed up, stuck his hands on his waist and said, “Don’t you know English?” I didn’t have much to say to that.
The last few weeks have been mild as far as activity. Certainly plenty of work, but most of it has been in my apartment working on my computer. It is difficult for me to do any intense studying since I still lack any type of a table or desk at all. The Indian’s concept of a furnished apartment is a bed and a sofa, for me they added European style toilets, a gas stove top, a washer, and a shower. I have been trying to convince my landlord that I need a table for the last three weeks, finally he brought over a small computer table just about large enough for my laptop to fit on, and apparently thought that was all I was talking about when I told him I needed a table. Well, it’s a start anyway, we are making progress.
The first week that I was here, in this apartment, I had an object lesson in humility. There was this cricket. It was inside already the first night that I moved into the apartment. At first I didn’t really think that much about it. Just a cricket chirping away, certainly a sound that I was familiar with and never had really bothered me before. The problem was this cricket was inside, very close to the couch I was sitting on reading, working etc. It was near, it was loud, and it was shrill. The first night didn’t bother me too much. The second night I began to wonder if it would ever go away. The third night it was time to play squash with my little friend. The problem was that although he was excruciatingly loud and I could easily tell which general direction he was in, as soon as I got up and moved in that direction, dead silence, not a sound. So I would stand up and take a step, quiet, then I would think maybe he won’t start up again. So I would sit down and a few minutes latter, the piercing noise would interrupt me once again. Up quiet, down noise, up down, up down. One would think that even a cricket would realize after a while that if it wants to be left alone it should quit chirping, but of course it didn’t. After the second or third time I didn’t even get up with the intention of trying to find him, I knew all I needed to do was make one heavy foot sound and it would get quiet for a few more minutes anyway. But I was always hoping that eventually the cricket would learn and either keep silent of move on somewhere where he wouldn’t be bothered. (Even then I knew this was a futile hope, but . . . ) About the sixth or seventh, I remember thinking why won’t he learn. Immediately the thought came to my mind, why won’t I learn. I thought how many times hasn’t God stomped on the floor trying to teach me I should not be doing what I am doing, thinking what I am thinking. And sure I might stop at that instant, but it doesn’t take me long to start chirping away again. It doesn’t take me long to go right back to my old habits, what I want instead of what God wants. It doesn’t take me too long and I have completely forgotten what God wants. Eventually I did find the cricket and after a rather lengthy chase he was no longer a problem. Thankfully the Lord doesn’t give up on us after only three days. But instead is very long suffering and patient, enduring our sins and arrogance in the hope that we might yet repent. In 1 Peter 3:20 Peter speaking of God, does say that He is patient, rather He simply calls Him by the name Patient. He doesn’t even bother to make it a predicate instead he considers the two so synonymous that they are identical, Patience and God. Indeed God, after abiding the sinful state of man for 4,000 years, not just two days, still didn’t hunt down the cricket but instead stomped down on His Son. I’ve been chirping away for 27 years and the Lord still hasn’t given up on me.
The past few weeks have been interesting to say the least. I have spent most of my time on a quest for one thing or another. This is typically, at least of me, whenever I move into a new house, but the problem in India, is that I don’t know where to go to get it. For example I found a frying pan and was going to fry some eggs, but realized I didn’t have a spatula, or anything remotely close to it. That day after searching through numerous stores, I finally found a spatula. The next morning I went to make scrambled eggs, but I had no bowl or container of any kind to scramble them in, well a bachelor learns how to make do without those things, not a bid deal. I did finally find some mustard the other day, and some salami. That was one thing that I had really been missing, you can’t make a good sandwich without Mustard and Salami. Although if going without Salami is the worst things that happens to me in this life, I guess I’m sliding through pretty easy.
On the topic of food I also found out earlier this week that you can call up and order pizza from Domino’s, Pizza Hut, or Pizza Corner here in Chennai. Yup, we have it rough.
One final story, I learned that the doxology is not particularly designed for clapping. At Church on Sunday, after the sermon the members of the congregation asked me to sing for them. They usually sing a hymn while they are coming up to give the offering. Well I objected but it didn’t do much good and Dave wasn’t much of a help either. Dave suggested I sing the doxology, so in the end I gave in. The members however tried to clap along, which didn’t work out at all, and then the song was over shortly and they were obviously expecting something longer. That just goes to show that good Germans don’t sing without an organ or in front of the church. (Speaking of Germans even here in India, people seeing my name ask me if I am from Africa).
Lord’s blessings in all your ways,
– Matthew Ude
PS If you have ever wondered what types of groceries an American can find in Chennai, India. Check out the picture album All on My Own.