The airport in Delhi had many Indian people in it, but it was clean, modern and didn't make you think of the pictures you often seen of India. However, as my old rattling airplane was descending into Allahabad, I could see pieces of farm ground below which looked more like a cobblestone path than American fields because of it's small irregularly shaped patches. I could see small huts with children running around outside. Yes, this is more of what I expected.
As we drove through Allahabad, there was so much more. I told Morgan the sights, sounds, smells made America seem cold and sterile (not all bad). Smells of smoke from burning trash or incense, spices, manure or rotting things. Sights of colorfully decorated shops, clothing, fancy furniture, cows running loose...and dogs. Rickshaws, motorcycles loaded with passengers, bicycles and pedestrians...and they do all come within inches of each other. Not so pleasant ones like trash almost covering the grass along sides of the road, dwellings so squalor it makes your heart ache. There was one lady outside the airport, she was gaunt and older and turned to look at me with half of her face covered with her scarf and the half I saw was haunting, and I must say dark - definitely a mission field. Of course, it's noisy with the many vehicles and their constant honking....that seems to be their greatest courtesy....I can just imagine at a wreck them saying, "But I honked at you!! You should have known to get out of my way". Who honked first?? :-) Yes, there is yelling ..and the haunting sound of the Muslim calls.
After visiting Morgan at the hospital, Andrew was walking me home in the dark and we saw people sleeping on mats along the road. One haunting scene was a woman curled on her side on the ground with a man (her husband?) leaning over her with his fist upraised and another woman (mother?) crouched in the midst begging for mercy. I paused wondering if I should at least stop and stare so the man would know he had an audience, but went on reassuring myself that the older woman may offer more protection than me. Was I right? I don't know.
As we drove through Allahabad, there was so much more. I told Morgan the sights, sounds, smells made America seem cold and sterile (not all bad). Smells of smoke from burning trash or incense, spices, manure or rotting things. Sights of colorfully decorated shops, clothing, fancy furniture, cows running loose...and dogs. Rickshaws, motorcycles loaded with passengers, bicycles and pedestrians...and they do all come within inches of each other. Not so pleasant ones like trash almost covering the grass along sides of the road, dwellings so squalor it makes your heart ache. There was one lady outside the airport, she was gaunt and older and turned to look at me with half of her face covered with her scarf and the half I saw was haunting, and I must say dark - definitely a mission field. Of course, it's noisy with the many vehicles and their constant honking....that seems to be their greatest courtesy....I can just imagine at a wreck them saying, "But I honked at you!! You should have known to get out of my way". Who honked first?? :-) Yes, there is yelling ..and the haunting sound of the Muslim calls.
After visiting Morgan at the hospital, Andrew was walking me home in the dark and we saw people sleeping on mats along the road. One haunting scene was a woman curled on her side on the ground with a man (her husband?) leaning over her with his fist upraised and another woman (mother?) crouched in the midst begging for mercy. I paused wondering if I should at least stop and stare so the man would know he had an audience, but went on reassuring myself that the older woman may offer more protection than me. Was I right? I don't know.
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