Indian Christmas

Christmas Eve and I am at the highrise, alone, since Shradha's grandmother is not well and the family is with her. I feel so badly and am trying not to be in the way during this difficult time. Mostly, I feel for Shradha - she has had so much stress lately and was hoping this trip back home would be relaxing. I pray the last week will be.

HOWEVER, I am happily on the couch, listening to Bing Crosby, gazing lovingly at my Christmas "Tree" (more like a fern) and thinking of heating up lamb biryani.

Mumbai is a TRIP. But, I like it. It reminds me of Manhattan in a way. It moves so fast. Expect the traffic, which moves incredibly incredibly slow.

The hardest part, so far, has been the children. I "dealt with" (oh, first world problems) my first child begger earlier in the week. I didn't give her anything, partly because I didn't have change, but also because the family told me not to. At what point does humanity become a nuisance? I suppose you must develop a sort of callousness to it, or else you couldn't live here. Children sitting without pants in the dirt and begging you for money to eat. And you can justify it all you want - that the money doesn't really go to them, that it is a scam, what have you. But, at the end of the day, India is still a country with a heartbreakingly high child mortality rate and gross economic inequality. And its not a statistic - its RIGHT in front of you.

Perhaps not the cheeriest of Christmas ponderings. But I feel like God would be okay with that.

I find God EVERYWHERE here. From churches to mosques to temples to shrines. In the way people talk and in their schedules. God, yes, takes many different forms here. But Christmas, and the glory of Christ, is absolutely not lost here. I see Him in it all.

Off to eat and find a Christmas movie to watch. Lighting Diwali candles tomorrow for the holiday and making spice cake.