Interior of a typical Home in Varanasi

Ok, this photo may not seem like much to look at, but it is typical of a Varanasi home, so I thought I would post it.

Most homes have a central "Ungun" or large empty space that goes from the ground up to the outside. This helps cool the home in the hot season, plus ventalation. Then the various levels are built around the Ungun, with a walk-way/stairs around it, and then independent rooms off of that walkway.

Not sure how well that shows up here, but that is the intent. :)

Sam's First Birthday

Sam had his first birthday on October 13th (yes, I am a bit late in reporting that.

He seemed to enjoy his party, and in good one-year-old fashion, was much more interested in the box and wrapping paper then the actual gift he got.

He got a plastic truck. Seems to like it better than the dolls his sisters thrust upon him.

Train Station

The following is from a beautiful friend of ours, Gloria Carlson, who wrote these reflections on observing folks in a Train Station:


An orthopedist’s worst nightmare. People limp by constantly, one after another, their feet misshapen, dragging. An arm or hand curled up towards the elbow and wrist. A man staggers by on one foot and one bandaged stump.


A social worker’s worst nightmare. So many needy people…beggars constantly in your face. Children begging for food, doing tricks for you, just to gain a rupee or two. Mothers with thin, dirty babies, motioning for you to give something to feed them and their baby. An old, emaciated crippled woman, bones jutting out towards the skin, gray hair dirty, disheveled, matted.


A verminophobiac’s (person who is afraid of germs) worst nightmare. Dirt everywhere. Putrid puddles of liquid are scattered along the ground. Breathing in constant dust and smoke. (It is estimated that everyone in Delhi smokes the equivalent of 20 cigarettes per day just by breathing in the polluted air.) The stale hot air smells of body odor, urine, and something rotten. Trash litters the ground. Men urinate in any convenient location, spitting their red paan juice as they go along. Children play in the dirty water that snakes its way down the platform.


Yet, an anthropologist’s (people-watcher’s) dream come true. So many people, so many different personalities, languages, and cultures. Families lay out on the ground, feeding their children the rice and dal they carefully packed in tin containers, each eating with his hands, or being fed from another’s fingers. The mother trying to keep track of all the youngsters and luggage, while settling a crying baby on her breast, bathing a dirty child, washing his clothes. The men sit nearby, staring at each passerby, chewing and spitting paan, at times engaged in conversation. Old women squat on the ground resting. (The word for “sit” in Hindi literally means “squat.” If you want the person to actually sit, you must add “on the chair.”) A rush of people carry each other up and down the many stairs. A middle-aged man gently leading a frail, aged, blind parent through the crowd. Men in red shirts with cloth wrapped around their heads like turbans carry piles of luggage and crates on top of their heads, the luggage owners trying to keep up with the coolies’ quick hurried steps. The group of young men not to be trusted, mischeviously congregating in the corner. A group of students scattered, sitting and intent on their task: drawing each nearby person with pencil on scratch paper.


A culinary artist’s dream come true. Vendors line the walkways with every sort of food. Theses are carried in baskets, either resting on the vendors’ heads or held above the heads in one hand. People reach out through the window bars to purchase a snack or drink. Others motion a vendor to stop by as he makes his way down the narrow and crowded aisle. All kinds of foods are sold: papaya, grapes, apples, oranges, guavas; also samosas, chana dal, salad, chai, cucumbers sliced in half and filled with masala. The hot foods are served on pieces of newspaper. Each vendor has his own call to announce his individual wares. The chai-walla calls out “chai, chai” in his own tone and pitch of voice, while the chana-walla calls out “hara chana” in a different tone of voice. The boys come through, calling out “thunda pani boatel sealed.” Each item costs but a few rupees, each vendor with little to account for all his hard work.


An extrovert’s dream come true. People everywhere! Of all ages and sizes. Most ready to talk and engage in conversation, even if the other does not listen or even understand the language. Children run around, ready to play with any stranger who will pay attention.


So this is it. My reflections from a six-hour wait at Patna Junction train station.

I've been a Doctor for 15 years and it took me a WHOLE MONTH to figure this out?

I haven't seen much of my Urdu Teacher's wife for a month or so. It was the month of fasting, so people often keep strange hours during that time, so I wasn't really thinking about it. When I asked how the fasting was going, my teacher told me his wife was not fasting. When I asked why, he just replied, "Oh she isn't feeling too well this month."

Hmmmm. Now why would a 30 year old married woman not feel too well for weeks on end?

Before I would often see her, if she would bring chai down, or say "Hi" while coming or going. But I haven't seen her for weeks. When I asked, I was just informed she was getting a little extra rest.

Hmmm, now why would she need a little extra rest?

My delightful wife finally gave me one of those, "Men are from another planet" looks as she informed me, "Well, she is pregnant, obviously."

Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to be the clever one.

Viral Fever

Lots of what the local Physicians refer to as "Viral Fever" going around. (you need to say it with a subcontinent accent for the full effect).

Viral Fever is when a patient has a very high fever (103 or more), and no other symptoms. No cough, no rash, no dierrhea, no nothing. They are just baking.

I typically check for Malaria and Typhoid, but after that, it is just a matter of waiting it out. At least some of it is Dengue, but often that test is negative. Some chikunguya around also.

But what is the cause? Hmmm, maybe some lab somewhere would sponsor a complete workup of these people to try and get a better idea of what it is.

A Clear Case of "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words".

A friend of mine sent me this.

Priceless.

Do you believe in Djinn?

Last Thursday, I stopped by a friends house for a quick visit, and he informed me his 19 year old nephew was in the hospital and asked me to come and look him over.

No problem. I get a lot of this.

The nephew had fallen from a three story building, hitting a few things on the way down, and gotten pretty banged up. Most of the stuff was not alarming and well taken care of... scrapes and cuts and bruises. (I think I also clinically diagnosed a Basilar Skull Fracture, with Raccoon Eyes, what a call, I got pictures). He also broke his heel bone, which will probably take a couple of months to heal up.

But the main thing was a broken jawbone. The XRay was impressive, with several breaks. The answer seemed obvious to me: he needs his jaw wired shut.

Enter the negotiations. Turns out the accident had happened eight days ago, and the family was refusing to have the operation, because they couldn't afford it. (In India, you pay for your medical care with cash up front, or else the Doctor won't do it. Makes sense, otherwise the Doctor wouldn't get paid). The family of the patient and the Doctor had been negotiating for eight days while the patient survived on sugar water in an IV drip. Well, that's no good.

As I looked over the patient, he just seemed a little odd. He followed commands (not being allowed/able to speak with the broken jawbone), but just was not interacting normally. Mostly he just stared off into space, and didn't look at anyone (including the pretty nurse, now that is odd in a teenage boy).

But the next while was taken up in animated discussion of operations and costs and second opinions and so on. When my friend and I finally left, it was time for me to get on to my next appointment.

I saw my friend next day alone in his office, and mentioned that his nephew seemed a little odd, and did his brain get hurt in the accident? My friend replied, "No, that is the way he is since he was 12 years old, let me tell you a story..." .... ....

But then a customer came in, and he refused to engage me in conversation about his nephew.

When I finally got him alone for a bit of time, he told me that his nephew, when he was 12 years old, was in the country side, and had walked into a field to empty his bladder. He unknowingly voided on Djinn (a Muslim Spirit being, sometimes evil, but sometimes neutral or even good). Therefore the Djinn had cursed him. The curse was thus: once or twice a month, for 2 or 3 days at a time, the boy would stop functioning. He would just sit and stare straight ahead without speaking. He could eat and drink during these times, but otherwise would just sit for hours and stare straight ahead. The boys mother (my friends sister) had a special prayer book from which she would chant a prayer, and then "blow" them (literally) over her son. This usually worked. Various Doctors they had consulted had not helped.

In between the "spells" (for lack of a better word) he seemed normal, finishing high school and now doing computer based cloth designing.

And he asked me: "Do you believe in Djinn?"

I love this job. We talked awhile.

Next day, my friend asked me to see his nephew in his home (they had refused to have the operation, and the patient had been transferred home, complete with a massive round-the-head bandage to supposedly hold his jawbone in place while it healed. And he asked me if I could help with the "spells".

But next day, when I got there, there was a crowd there, and my friend did not want me to talk about that at that time.

I don't think it would have been good to do any excorsision anyways (yes, Lowell cannot spell). Based on what Jesus had to say about the evil spirit who wanders around and then returns to the house to find it empty, and brings seven of his friends along, it would seem that this young man had a pretty empty house, and filling it with righteousness would be a first step, so that when the Djinn eventually gets dispelled, it can't come back in.

So instead, I left them a copy of Psalm 1, and Psalm 42/43 (Hope in God!), and recommended he meditate on this for awhile. I also recommended the patriarch of the family approve of it, before they started reading it. But he just said OK, with only a brief scanning. They were all gathered around reading aloud when I left.

So anyways, that is what I did during lunch today. How about you?

I don't proofread these things before I hit "Publish Post". Maybe I should. I wander if any of this makes any sense.

What do you do with Faithfulness and Fruitlessness?

I was watching JT interview two gentlemen whom I greatly respect last evening, when he asked them this question: "What do you do when you encounter Faithfulness and Fruitlessness? (Or something like that).

I think the intent of the question is thus: What if a person is in ministry (pastorate etc) and there does not appear to be any obvious fruit? What if a godly man, called to preach, preaches Biblical sermons, and the Fellowship he is ministering to melts away?

I don't think either one of the gentlemen understood the question, as they did not appear to acknowledge that it is possible for the two to co-exist. Perhaps seeing such obvious blessing to ones ministry makes it difficult to comprehend that such as this could happen.

They did not mention the fruitfulness of prayer. Or the fruitfulness of obedience. Jeremiah, Hosea, and others were faithful in their calling, but none of them saw "fruit" in what we usually think of as "fruit". They called people to repentence, and no one repented. Yet God seems to make much of the fruitfulness of endurance, the fruitfulness of faithfulness, the fruitfulness of doing what is right even if the stars fall.

A lack of obvious short term "fruit" (would we see this as a Meetinghouse with growing membership roles?) often leads people to question the faithfulness of the pastor. This may be appropriate, and indeed, accountability to faithfulness should be one of the hallmarks of a good pastor.

But too often a lack of short term fruitfulness does not yield a Biblical call for endurence. And a Biblical call for endurance is exactly what is needed in so many cases.

Anyways, I am rambling. What does one do with Faithfulness and "Fruitlessness"?

Perhaps the best answer is to define "Fruit".