The India Chronicles: Sunday. Letter #4

Family plus,

I’ve been here 4 days, and written 4 letters. I’m really excited for the days when I’m so busy working and serving people that I don’t have time to write these lengthy letters. But for now I’m just getting acclimated, and I have the time, so here goes letter #4.

Sunday. We went to church! One serious advantage to being Mormon: every church building in the entire world has the same wifi password (Pioneer47). Metaphor for stability in life? I think yes! Everywhere you go in the entire world has the same exact wifi password, the same exact service, the same ordinances, and the same hymns. The doctrine is the same universally and being half way around the world, it is a wonderful slice of security. Stepping into that church building was stepping into a haven: familiar building structure, familiar paintings, familiar feeling. Even seeing the customary lettering outside the door “The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints: Visitors Welcome” was like a personal welcome sign from God saying, “you are not alone.”

The members here are incredible. They live by extraordinary faith. A lot of them are converts, and have given much up to be members: jobs, homes, familial ties, if nothing else, most of them gave up cultural upbringings. One man I met in Sunday school trekked to the church building every week for 15 years, having to wake up at 3:30 in the morning, so he could receive the sacrament. He went with faith every week as his home teacher told him to continue in his journey and God will bring him closer to the church. Recently, the man got a job in the city and moved to a house right next to the church building. I don’t think his home teacher knew how literal his advice would prove!

Everyone is so kind and friendly. During relief society I stepped out for a moment, and met the most charming woman. Her name was Loalitta (just like in Bride and Prejudice!) she kept offering me food: little dried rice noodles, and banana chips, “these aren’t spicy, so don’t worry.” And “More! More! Have more if you’d like!” Because I could understand her English, and she understood mine, I felt like I finally connected to a piece of this world. She even taught me a little Telugu! I can now say “thank you” and “you are beautiful.” The moral of the story is that wonderful things happen to you when you skip Sunday school.

Kidding!

But I wasn’t sorry I got to talk with her. She invited all of us to come to her daughter’s baptism in the early evening.

So at 4:30 I went back to the church building with Hudson (a nice friend to sacrifice his Sunday afternoon to go with me). We were a few minutes late, and still the first ones there by about a half-hour. In India, time runs a little more fluidly. The baptism was lovely. The people here are inspiring with their love of the gospel, the love for their children, and the support they show one another.

I had a really embarrassing moment at the baptism.

Here’s the situation: this congregation cannot sing.

Not even a little bit.

Everyone’s in different keys, in different tempos, pronouncing different words. It sounded awful. (apparently that’s a similar phenomenon in all of Asia.)

Now normally, I would not laugh at other people’s misfortunes or lack-of-musical talent. But during the 3^rd or 4^th hymn, when Hudson gave out a small chuckle next to me, that was the end. I could not control myself. I had a giggle fit. Not just like “ha ha oh that’s funny”… but shaking, sobbing, desperately attempting to stifle uncontrollable giggles. It was worse than that Nauvoo show where I tried to make it look like my character was crying. This time I couldn’t very well pretend like I was crying… it was a baptism. Also, nearly everyone in the room was looking at me, cause I’m white. It was bad. Luckily I caught my breath before the end of the song, sort of, so I could be semi-reverent for the remainder of the ceremony. We congratulated Loalitta and snuck out the back.

I think I’ve mentioned this before, but I want to say it again. Indian children are SO STINKING ADORABLE. They have these gigantic brown eyes, and the largest, sweetest smiles.  In India there is a cultural head bob, it’s in between nodding “yes” and shaking “no.” It’s like an ear-to-shoulder side-to-side back-and-forth thing. It’s the perfectly expressive equivalent of “eh.” When the little kids do it—oh man, it kills me! I think I’ll marry an Indian man just so I can have Indian children. (Then we can have a platform and a shower of rose-petals too!) It’s decided.

OH! The best part of the day! The airlines brought my bag! Finally, gloriously reunited! We laughed and cried and danced. There were fireworks. I feel complete.

Hope you’re all doing well over there on the other side of the globe.

Lots of love!

-Averill

p.s. I have a horrifyingly itchy bug bite on my foot. So it begins.