Janet's Entry- January 23, 2009

The first night we were surprised how well we slept on our Indian mattress. It is very, very firm. Two single bed mattresses which are about four inches thick have been pushed together and they lay on a wooden base. Surprisingly we have been doing well on it.

Monday morning the assistants to the President , Elder Swanborough from Australia, and Elder Hansen picked us up for a meeting with President Ricks. We walked several blocks to catch what they call an auto rickshaw (a three wheeled conveyance without protecton on the sides but a cover over the top). They are built for only two passengers and that's the legal amount. But all four of us got crowded in with Elder Swanborough sort of hanging out the side and Elder Hansen sharing the drivers seat up front. Before we chose our ride they both went from one richshaw to another haggling over prices. Thirty to forty rupies (which equates to sixty to eighty cents American money) is the maximum to spend on a ride to the mission office which is about six or seven miles away.

Elder Hansen, who is very tall, looked funny with his arm around the little driver and then Elder Swanburough started giving the driver a back rub which he seemed to be enjoying very much and we all had such a good laughing time.

The traffic here is so crazy. I hope we never have to drive anywhere ourselves. It's just a huge mad crush with everyone honking (but just to warn another vehicle off). There doesn't seem to be any road rage. Everybody is just so accepting of the bad situation, although it's very exciting for us foreigners. No one seems to know anything about traffic rules and the buses, cars, motorcycles, and auto rickshaws just madly swarm all over the road. There are no lanes at all and once in a great while there will be a traffic light, then the beggars and street vendors descend upon you.

The other day a little boy selling magazines looked into our rickshaw and saw that we were Americans. He got really excited, found a magazine with a blond , blue eyed cover girl and started pointing at her eyes then pointing at mine. He then stuck his hand into the cab for me to shake, so I did. We haven't seen another American couple, (other than the three missionary couples who live far away from us) since we came here. Most people are very nice, but they really like to look at us.

We have seen some sad sights on the streets while riding in the richshaws and at the markets. We saw a man with both arms cut off clear up to the shoulders and he was shirtless. Another man's leg was completely cut off at the hip and he was just hopping on the one leg with no crutch at all. Another man was sitting on the ground and his feet looked like hands bent side ways at the wrists with long toes that looked like fingers. An old beggar woman looked like a small heap of old rags. She was so tiny she couldn't have weighed more than thirty pounds.

We've been to the Central Market twice now. This last time it was quite a miserable experience for Fred as a tall beggar woman followed him around every second, everywhere and she had her hands all over him making her begging sounds. She was carrying a lifeless little baby but she finally got to Fred and he started telling her to stop it. Nothing worked though. Each time after we are accosted by a beggar, and we don't give them anything, Fred worries what God is going to do to punish him.

Sister Ricks and others have told us not to give money to the beggars or you will be completely mobbed. She said the beggars have actually formed Unions and that they cripple and maim their children and also drug their babies so as to look sick or lifeless. If a woman doesn't have a baby, she will borrow someone else's baby to carry while she begs. The Elders have been bitten by beggar children and one Elder drug a little beggar boy on his leg (the little boy wouldn't let go) for quite a ways.

We saw one beggar woman riding in a bicycle rickshaw with her three little children the other day. That sort of ticked Fred off. If you try to give them food, they won't take it. They just want money.

It's a very sad situation here in India as the lowest caste children aren't allowed to go to school because they aren't born in hospitals, therefore they don't have birth certificates and they aren't allowed schooling without birth certificates. Because of this, they can never improve their lot in life.

While at the market on our first outing there, a tall terrorist looking man with a black Sihk cap started talking to Fred, then as he passed by he said, "Shalom". Fred answered back with "Shalom". Afterwards we worried that Fred's new dark colored Tilly hat might give him the appearance of a jew.

The second night at around eleven o'clock we were awakened by loud raucous drums hammering their erratic beating right outside our door and also the strong smoke from fired charcoal. We wandered if it was our neighbors trying to drive us out or if it was a welcoming party. Fred peeked out of the window and the fire had been built right on our doorstep.

The next day we learned that it was a planting celebration and that there would be many more fires and parties that evening. We were invited to two of them. They say the farmers have huge planting celebrations. I remembered in the Bolly Wood movie, Bride and Predjudice, the big dance around the fire. That's probably what it was.