Soul Touch

Worldly Wise…Not!

“Happy is the man who finds wisdom and the man who gains understanding”
Proverbs 3: 13

Two young ladies sat relaxing in the cobbled square of Old Jaffa (Israel) Having just completed the coastal walk from the centre of Tel Aviv to the historic city gates the girls enjoyed their ice coffees and remarked on their beautiful surroundings.
Lorna: The architecture here reminds me of Italy or Rome?
Erica: But you’ve never been to Italy Lorna.
Lorna: No I’ve never been to Rome either.

Later that evening, having returned from their days adventure (and hike) they dined by the sea. Looking up, expecting to see some familiar constellations Erica remarked on how dark the sky looked. It was lit up only by one beaming light. Lorna: What’s that over there?
Erica: It’s a star. It’s the Star of David; you know like the one on their flag ‘n’ it’s hovering over Bethlehem.
Lorna: Are you sure that’s the star?
Erica: Yeah sure. It’s the brightest star; that’s how the wise men knew how to follow it. Suddenly the diamond in the sky turned red and started to move.
Lorna: Look Bethlehem’s moving!

Accents can often complicate things and so many times we misunderstand or misinterpret what people say. Whilst being driven to the next school, where they were going to teach, the girls absorbed some of their cultural surroundings. Being of an inquisitive nature Lorna enquired about the huge animals that were now parallel to the car, dwarfing it’s exterior.
Lorna: Oh my goodness what are they? I’ve never seen animals with horns as big as that before” Lorna screeched, pointing excitedly to the beasts.
“Dat is a Pull a Cart,” The girls were told.
“Ah a pulacart” Lorna repeated what the Indian gentleman had said, or at least what she thought he had said. “A Pulacart! I’ve never heard of that animal before.”
“It’s a bull,” said Erica
“Yes dit is a bull. It is pulling dee cart.”
The girls giggles realising that the “pulacart” he was referring to was the vehicle not the animal.

“Entertain dem!” Was the instruction we were given by the pastor and so the Soul Touchers humbly obliged. So having finished their hundredth rendition of “Making a Melody” Erica and Lorna conferred about what game to play next.
“What game will we do next?” Lorna muttered through grinning teeth, still humming the melody song and straining to dance, despite every limb aching from a day of singing and dancing with enthusiastic Indian children.
“I think my trousers have ripped!” Erica paniced.
“What game?” Lorna repeated, thinking she had never heard of that particular one.
“My trousers! I think there’s a wee tear in the crotch but its ok finish the song I don’t think you can see it,” Erica replied turning discreetly for Lorna to check the damaged garment.
“Eh, Erica I can see your bum.” Lorna nervously hovered behind, trying to protect her friend’s modesty.
“Where?” Erica asked inspecting her trousers. But Lorna’s hand pointed to a completely different area: the backside, the seem of which was disintegrating as Erica moved. Gesturing to one of the many Indian women in the church Erica asked for a needle ‘n’ thread. The woman immediately removed the trousers and proceeded to wrap the, now hysterical, Erica in a sari! Lorna got one too but she didn’t have to burst her pants to get one!

It rained and poured for forty days! India

“The animals went in two by two. Harrah, hurrah!” Sound familiar? Yes to Lorna and I, and anybody else who attended church holiday clubs or SU camps from a young age, this song will probably bring back fond memories of your childhood. For us however it is a reminder of our lives over the past few days. As I’ve described in the previous entry, for most of our day on Thursday we were standing in front of hundreds of children imitating elephants, birds, crocodiles and all sorts of other weird and wonderful creatures. We were telling the children of Kennedy school about Noah and how he had to take the animals into the ark. Little did we know that the poor children may be traumatised because literally days later we are enjoying our very own flood. Today is Sunday and all festivities have been momentarily put on hold because of the monsoon that is currently flooding Chennai. So we are imprisoned in our wee hotel until it stops, although judging from the weather forecast it doesn’t look set to stop until the 14th of Dec when indeed the monsoon period ends! So I thought I’d take this opportunity to say hi and let you know what we’ve been up to the past few days.

Before the rain interfered with our schedule (yes we have a timetable and we have to stick to it. Can you believe it! Those of you who know Captain Thacker will be able to imagine what our timetable may be like) Lorna and I had the opportunity to visit some of the homes in a slum area here in Chennai. We are being very well looked after by two churches: Christ the Rock and Mount Zion. Both churches do a lot of ministry in the slums and most members of their small congregations come from there.

So after a hectic day with the children in the schools we were told that we were going to visit these homes. Although a little nervous, having been to these areas in daylight and slightly tired we were excited to visit the homes of the women we had had been sharing and praying with; the women who had been looking after us so well. They too were equally as excited about showing us where they live and us meeting their families.

So we left the church (Mount Zion) and set out. Weaving in and out of the dusty stalls and homes we saw rats, children, men and women sitting. Yes just sitting. Some of them in silence, some talking to the children flung on the road in front of them, playing with old pots and pans or twigs. Some of the women lit fires, presumably to cook and men huddled in shop doorways chatting and smoking. All eyes were on us. Two large white girls. I say large, no not because we’re bigger than you but because we are definitely bigger than the average Indian. The women are very petite and dressed in the most beautiful saris. They actually add colour and a little life to the darkness that dampens the streets. As we pass, the hustle and bustle of the stalls stops. People stare. Some rush towards us gesturing to their mouths hoping that we can feed them. They groan in a language we don’t understand (Tamil) but their actions are crystal clear and we are left in no doubt of what they mean. They are hungry and we are obviously well fed. They need something to eat now. Discreetly both Lorna and I try to give the little money we have on us but our chaperones discourage us and whisk us into one of the little stone houses. The houses are like flats: stacked up high and between them ropes, laden with clothes being hung out to dry, are strung. I was actually concentrating so much on where I was putting my feet that I hadn’t looked up until pastor Sebastian joked that they had put the flags out for us coming!

Inside the homes we are met by large families. All desperate to meet us and most importantly pray with us. It was such an enriching experience to talk to these people. To hear of how God is at work in their lives. Yes I’m talking about now as you read this he is changing their homes and communities. To them God is real. He is someone they talk to, not just on a daily basis but all day everyday. They rely on him for things. We have learned that when they pray to him, like we discovered in Africa, they actually pray with confidence. They pray expecting things to happen. One family told us of how the mother had been in bondage for seven years; she had been “possessed by evil spirits”. By this I presume she was in some sort of depression. At home she may have been prescribed a drug or worse still told to get on with things but here they prayed to God and he provided, as he always does. During that time her family home was a horrible place to be. The children told us about how it was always dark and no one was every happy. They said that now God is in their home they are happy and have joy. Who wouldn’t want that for their family!

Another home we visited consisted of only one room. This was home for the family of six. In it they all live by day and sleep by night, yes in that one room. They huddled between four cold stone walls on a stone floor. In one corner was a small water bucket and another empty one. Another part of the small room was partitioned as a kitchen from where they produced some fizzy juice for us. Time and time again we are overwhelmed by little they have and how willing they are to give. In the first home I mentioned they actually gave us money as a blessing for our ministry. It was probably their monthly salary. Yes we did take it! I know it sounds awful but they found it terribly offensive when we refused. And yes we will make a donation to their church so they get it back!

Finally we visited Solomon’s home. Solomon is a young man (25) who is hugely excited about God. He lives there with his mother (a stunningly beautiful woman) and his brother Moses. Solomon told us about how they, along with another younger brother whom we didn’t meet, used to live in “platforms”. When talking about that time in his life he was visibly distressed and so naturally we asked what “platforms” were. “They are the gutters or I think you call them pavements,” he answered.
“Yes I think we do.” I replied embarrassed. And so he went on to tell us of how God had provided them with a home and how he and his brothers are now all in fulltime employment. He then proceeded to show us round his home. It had a small kitchen, a prayer room (cupboard) and one bedroom. Awkwardly edging my way round the one double bed squeezed into the room, I asked, “Who sleeps here?”
“We all do. It’s a big bed isn’t it?” He replied looking at me as if I had asked a stupid question, which of course I had!

These are just some of the homes we have visited in the few days we have been here. Over the next few weeks we will no doubt visit many more. And so please continue to pray, not for us or even our safety here but pray for these people. Pray that our visits would be fruitful and that what we see would lead us (as in you and me) into action; into doing something for justice because this is simply unjust! To have two grown men sharing a bed with their mother is unjust. To be given money from a family who have barely enough to feed themselves is unjust and to see all of this and do nothing unthinkable. I say this every time. You can do something. Even if you can’t come to India you can do something. Everything starts with prayer. Whether it is prayer for wisdom, prayer for energy, prayer for motivation, prayer for finances. You can’t do anything but God can do everything through you!

School Visit India

“These are our very special guests. Welcome them with thunderous applause.” Was the instruction they were given and so the some six hundred students assembled in front of us complied with their headmaster. Some screamed, others cheered, their applause filling the courtyard where we had gathered. Next we were thoroughly entertained. The sound of traditional Indian music was played through loud speakers that, we were told, were purchased especially for our visit. For the next ten or so minutes we were enthralled by the intricacy of the carefully choreographed steps performed by the young girls on the stage. None of them seemed to be as daunted by their audience as we were. The foot of the stage marked the boundary for dozens of regimented rows of smartly dressed pupils. Each boy sat straight with his legs crossed, looking handsome in bright blue trousers and matching gingham shirts; each with their hair swept smartly into a side parting. The girl’s attire was equally as efficient. Dressed in pretty pinafores of the same bright blue they giggled and nodded nervously, clamouring over the boys at the end of assembly to shake our hands.

Although their school uniforms are a stark change from the saris they wear outside of the school gates the Indian influence is still president: long black pigtails are tied up with ribbon framing their smiling faces; as they dance they carefully clasp their first and second finger on the thumbs, twisting their wrists in time with the veena, the traditional Indian instrument accompanying them. Such delicate gestures draw attention to the henna art on their palms; almost every child is dotted with the signature of this area: the Hindu dot (pottu) painted between their eyebrows. Yet at the end of this beautiful welcoming ceremony the children all rise from their squatted positions and in chorus they recite the Lord’s Prayer.

This is Kennedy’s school where we have been teaching for the past two days. It is a Christian school and although many of the students come from Hindu families the Head teacher, Francis, informed us that parents prefer to send their children here because they install discipline and hope into their young students.

The discipline, or rather lack of indiscipline, is immediately obvious and the children appear for our classes eager to learn and they all participate enthusiastically. My initial reaction to this “royal” welcome was one of panic. It is totally overwhelming and extremely humbling being presented with gifts from a school where the children attend classes with little more than a notebook and the teachers teach with only a single piece of chalk. No interactive whiteboards assist them in their quests to educate this future generation. Similarly the children suffer from the lack of technology. Although they belong to the 21st century generation they are do not know what it is to benefit from 21st century technology. I am not implying that ones education is determined by what technology is available to them, not at all, but I am simply using it as one very obvious examples of difference between facilities we (in the west) have and the schools here don’t. Or let me use another. I was told, and actually experienced during my short period of teaching in Scotland, how children are affected by the weather. It’s true they, like us, become easily distracted by the elements. If it’s raining outside they become a little more excitable (completely mental and hyperactive) and if it’s sunny (on the rare occasion it is in Scotland) they complain of the heat. Well here the elements really do predict the atmosphere in the classrooms. Some of them have no walls or they have holes in the tin roofs, so when it rains they get wet. Some are however fortunate enough to have fans cooling the students from the unbearable humidity here, or at least the one student sitting directly underneath it; there is no air conditioning. Or we could even use the example of shoes. Kennedy school and St Mary’s, which we have also enjoyed visiting, is one of the more affluent schools yet many students do not have shoes and during monsoon season (Sept-Dec) this can cause fevers and illness, which we have witnessed. Today we saw many children actually wade through deep puddles, making their way to school. Now that’s ‘willingness to succeed’ don’t you think!

Visiting these schools has been a real education to me but I trust they also learned something from our visit. I mentioned earlier that initially we were overwhelmed by their hospitality and generosity of our hosts. It made me question the justice and purpose of our visit. “What can we give them? How can we repay them for their kindness towards us?” The answer was obvious and so over the next two days we put our everything into giving them the best gift we have: the gospel.

We spent our mornings dressings up, using props made out of bits and bobs gathered from different hostel rooms and our larger than large rucksacks; it’s amazing what you can make with some tinfoil and a few wire coat hangers. The children loved Lorna’s impression of a 600-year-old Noah and they didn’t even flinch when we splashed (soaked) them with water during the forty days of rain! Our afternoon was blessed by a session of questioning and discussion with the senior students from St Mary’s school. They were keen to learn of our culture and what the real ingredients of haggis were. Many asked questions about our faith, our families and why we had chosen the name ‘Soul Touch’. We answered them all as best we could but I hope the answer to the latter is obvious. That is our greatest desire: that these children would see beyond our white skin and big smiles and they learn something of God’s love for them.

Our time at Kennedy school was a complete joy as well as being completely exhausting and we loved every second of it. We know that some of you peeps in St Andrew’s also fell in love with the pupils and staff there and so we pray that this is the start of a connection and a friendship that will continue and will bless all the children in both India and Scotland.