Do you ever have one of those days where you become so incredibly aware of how your heart feels? A day when you are so amazingly aware of God and know that He is the only one who can speak to the longing in your heart? A day when your desire for sweet fellowship, where you can sit outside and ponder God’s greatness with another heart in tune with His, is almost over-whelming? Or a day in which you are so aware of the fact that you live where you live?

I have this feeling from deep within tonight that I can not explain. A feeling that once I reached home made me want to climb up onto the highest point of my building to sit down and reflect, and write out my thoughts…

I decided to walk part of the way home tonight…on my walk I was reminded of the fact that I live here…in this third world country…so far removed from the land from which I was born and raised...

What was it that made me so aware of this fact? Was it the boys playing cricket? Walking by a line of men reliving themselves on the side of the road? The man sitting in the shadows, who started yelling at me in a tongue I do not understand, as I took notice of him? Was it the crazy traffic? Or maybe it was the ladies selling flowers in abundance at the market? The hand basket weaver I pass almost every day? Was it the cow hanging out at the fruit stand? The ladies all in their flowing sarees? What about the dark faces that watched me with curiosity, often craning their necks out windows, as they drove past me in buses, cars, and autos? Or the plethora of homeless dogs running the streets, or hanging out on the dirt piles in my neighborhood? Or the Ambassadors that people still drive here? The mosquito bites that remind me of the Dengue fever in town? Or the shacks and the huge homes that I walk by, in co-existence? The little shack kid and her smile as I stopped to say hi to her? Or the eyes of the women who are not quite able to meet mine until they hear my greeting uttered in their own tongue? I am not sure…but for some reason, today, I am greatly aware...  

Later that night:
~Rightly. I just became very aware of the fact that I am a doofus who has yet to adjust with full mental capacity that I live HERE. The other day whilst visiting with my neighbors across the street, I offered to help them move in if they wanted. The daughter just looked at me with a goofy look and did not really respond...
Yeahly, so I justly got back from walking to the store to get some bread. (by the way I only paid 11 rupees for the loaf, that is about 33 cents) On the way down the stairs, I saw the moving guys unloading this moving contraption, with the afore mentioned neighbor's boxes and such. I aptly thought, "I should stop and see if they could use assistance". Thusly, I realized why the daughter looked at me through eyes that portrayed ideas of my alienescness. This is the land of servants and CHEAPly labor. They would not even fathom needing my hands to help move their things because they had boys who were doing it for them, for probably like 5 bucks.
Geeshly. I mean, what was I thinking? Or, I guess just proof of my lack of thinking. Everyone here has a servant...except the servants. And no one does manual labor, except the manual labor class...Will my mind ever be able to manage the differences between this culture and my own? The likely hood of that is not looking so hot today...but there is always tomorrow.  

A.C. this posts for you ;) Part-ly...b/c I tortured words just for respect...and dang it, I would do it again! No matter how far reachingly poor the attempt may be...