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Saturday
Oct032009
He sees it all
October 3, 2009
Yesterday I stumbled over a dead cat, and then saw a dog with a large piece missing out of the back of his neck.
Yesterday I sat and had tea at the tailors, then returned to the home of my friends and had coffee under the mango tree.
Once I chose a cycle rickshaw walla who looked old and desperate, and it took me three times the normal length of time to get where I was going, because his cycle was broken.
And another time I chose the first cycle rickshaw walla who yelled at me, and we zipped home at breakneck speed, smashing into the wheel of an oncoming cycle rickshaw when we spent too long in the oncoming lane while passing a fruit cart.
This city and the country it embodies are like this. The best and worst, all in one parcel. A beggar with missing limbs lolling on the ground like a piece of trash. That’s a person down there, but everyone is walking on by. A circle of women laughing and pinching your baby’s cheeks. Flowers garlanding the necks of loved ones, lights on the river. God is here, like He is everywhere else. He sits in the dust with the beggar, watches the light change in the daily flow of his creation, and He never doesn’t see. His heart hurts for it all, even when I am too far away to know about the boy in the tailor's shop who just got cuffed over the head.
We're getting on the train tonight after an incredibly rich time with our friends. We love our Aussie friends and their ridiculously wonderful hospitality. We will miss them.
Some photos. You can click on an image if you want to see it larger.
[gallery link="file" columns="2" orderby="rand"]
Yesterday I sat and had tea at the tailors, then returned to the home of my friends and had coffee under the mango tree.
Once I chose a cycle rickshaw walla who looked old and desperate, and it took me three times the normal length of time to get where I was going, because his cycle was broken.
And another time I chose the first cycle rickshaw walla who yelled at me, and we zipped home at breakneck speed, smashing into the wheel of an oncoming cycle rickshaw when we spent too long in the oncoming lane while passing a fruit cart.
This city and the country it embodies are like this. The best and worst, all in one parcel. A beggar with missing limbs lolling on the ground like a piece of trash. That’s a person down there, but everyone is walking on by. A circle of women laughing and pinching your baby’s cheeks. Flowers garlanding the necks of loved ones, lights on the river. God is here, like He is everywhere else. He sits in the dust with the beggar, watches the light change in the daily flow of his creation, and He never doesn’t see. His heart hurts for it all, even when I am too far away to know about the boy in the tailor's shop who just got cuffed over the head.
We're getting on the train tonight after an incredibly rich time with our friends. We love our Aussie friends and their ridiculously wonderful hospitality. We will miss them.
Some photos. You can click on an image if you want to see it larger.
[gallery link="file" columns="2" orderby="rand"]
Reader Comments (9)
How much beauty, how much sadness.
Bon voyage!
Thanks for the photos. I have been wanting to see a little more. Makes me braver.
Thank you. It's just like I remember it... so much beauty, so much pain. Life and death, intermingled so closely, and the river ever flowing. And God in the midst of it all. Such memories in that place, Christmas morning there will always be a very special one for me. Much, much love to you all!
This post was achingly beautiful. Great pictures.
Such contrasts in that land and that is evident by your words and your photos. And God does see it all. It must overwhelm your mind sometimes though, being of a caring nature, you must want to help, but can't help everywhere. I know it would grieve my heart!
Thanks for the photos!
Oh, and even though I know you'll miss your friends, I am sure you're excited to get back to your place in Goa. Go safely, and know that our prayers and love are with you.
You've stolen my breath.
Thank you. Seems it might be difficult to find time to post-process- and post. Thanks we really love it,sitting here beachside seems to easy, and blessed in beauty. And yet the broken is here, the sick old and left alone are here, churches every street corner still filled each Sunday with us. And were thinking of you and the "Window of the World" and feeling just a bit closer to that us and this us.
Bless us-
The Andrews Family
Great photos, as usual.
I've long wondered what it will be like for you to return to North America---when and if you do. The contrasts are overwhelming on a computer screen, I can't imagine the disparity when your full senses are gathering India inside, making it a part of you.