I hope you are all enjoying the New Year and haven’t broken all of your resolutions yet! Wish I could tell you that I am still on target, but I am so far behind, I haven’t even made mine yet!

Here’s what’s happening in Winona...

We finally got our first Greek-Spanish commentary back from the printers during the second week of November. Boy, it looked wonderful to me! We have several congregations who have “adopted a preacher” by contributing $10.00 for the book (or $13.00 if they want us to mail it in the US or $15.00 if we need to mail it out of the US) to give to an Hispanic preacher who can’t afford to buy one on his own. We would love to give them away, but Robert had to raise the money to have it printed, and with trying to raise my support and his support and a work fund, we can’t afford the time and resources to raise the money for printing. We hope to make enough from the sale of this one to print the next one, the Book of Revelation.

Enrique is working feverishly on Revelation now, so I should have part of it in hand in a few days. Soon it will be back to the keyboard for me, typing in Spanish and Greek. Of course, I love it!

Raising support has been way outside my comfort zone, but I have met some wonderful Christian women and am constantly reminded how much love and faith the women of the church have. Many fine women have volunteered to help me with my support. The Woman 2 Woman program is doing well, and there are about 12 ladies’ groups who are participating in that program. In case you don’t remember, Woman 2 Woman is where a group of women commit to sending one dollar a month each to help with my support. One or two of the ladies volunteer to organize, announce and collect the money and send it on to my sponsoring congregation. This has been such a great help and encouragement to me.

I can’t leave the men out of my praise either. Several elderships and men of the congregation have come to my aid when they heard of my need. It is very difficult for a woman to raise money. As Robert says, I have two strikes against me in the church. One is that I am female, and the other is that I am single and don’t have anyone to speak for me. So it does my heart good to see the outpouring of people who do care and are willing to help.
We are planning to go to Costa Rica in July, so I am diligently studying my Spanish. Robert is planning to go to Costa Rica, Honduras, and Panama sometime in February or March with David Riley, the preacher at Mars Hill in Vilonia, AR. Then the Swains are going to Romania in May. I am trying to set up a plan to visit the Alpha and Omega Hispanic Preaching School in Little Rock to do immersion language learning for the three weeks that they will be gone.

My house is coming along slowly. With the holidays and lack of money on my part, work has ground to a halt, except for all of the caulking and plastering, which doesn’t require much money. So I am working that into my schedule. It seems to be a never-ending job!

I got a big boost in October! The campus ministry at the University of Central Arkansas in Conway brought a group of students on their fall break. They built a deck off my kitchen. Wow! It is wonderful! And thanks to the Mars Hill congregation in Vilonia who paid for the construction materials.

Right now, Robert is working on building kitchen cabinets with my expert assistance. He says, “Where’s the tape measure?” I find the tape measure. That’s my job. He says, “I need a phillips screw driver.” I get the screw driver. That’s my job! He says, “I need you to hold this board while I saw it in half.” I hold the board. That’s my job!! What would he do without me? Seriously though, I have learned a lot about construction. I can hang sheetrock, float out windows and facings, mud walls, and just about every other job that needs to be done. Maybe someday these skills will be of help to others in an evangelistic effort.

I hope you are all planning a great New Year, full of fun and family and memories in the making!

May God bless your efforts for His kingdom.

We left Tasmania on November 12 and spent Thursday in Singapore repacking for Myanmar (Burma). Singapore is sort of a hub for the Choates. They stay at the Supreme Hotel, and the hotel lets them store luggage. Since they are usually toting books from place to place, it is convenient to unload things that aren't needed for certain parts of the trip.

We were met at the airport in Myanmar by Winsome Vertannes, a single woman who lives with her mother. They do all the cooking and arranging transport for the missionaries who come to teach at the preacher-training school, which is held in the spring and fall. We drove to the Seasons Hotel in Yangoon, formerly Rangoon. It is an amazing hotel, with an attentive staff. We had to stay in a hotel because the government does not allow foreigners to stay with locals.

The Burmese are a very pleasant and polite people. The predominant religion is Buddhism. The country is controlled by the military. They had free elections, but when the people elected their president, the military put her under house arrest, where she remains to this day.

I have to say, Myanmar was one of my favorite countries, except for one thing. The Myanmar government has a strict policy regarding the internet. I was not able to check my email or even go to the home pages of my email servers! For over a week I was nearly internet-less! It was frightening!

We left Myanmar on Monday, November 24 for Singapore. We spent the night at the Supreme Hotel, gathered up all our luggage the next morning and were on our way to the airport by 6:30 am. Our flight was at 10:00 am, Tuesday morning. About 25 hours later, we arrived in Jackson, MS at 8:00 pm, Tuesday evening. No, that is not a math mistake. We gained about 10 hours. Tuesday was a long day!

Since I have been back, nearly everyone has asked me, "Did you have fun?" Well, yes, we did have some fun on the trip. But was it a fun trip? No, I can't say that it was a "fun" trip. I can say that it was an adventure.

This was not a vacation trip. It was a mission trip. Anyone who has been on a mission trip will understand what I mean. People think, "Wow, you went to all these cool places! Did you see the sites? Did you travel in style and stay in luxurious hotels, and eat expensive, exotic foods?" No, no, no and no!

We saw very few "sites", we stayed mostly in other Christians' homes and ate food that they prepared for us (which was often exotic, by the way). We seldom ate in restaurants, unless you call Burger King in the airport a restaurant! We traveled for days on poorly air-conditioned trains in which we had to take our own food and water. We sat elbow-to-elbow in the back of airplanes. We still haven't figured out how we managed to always be put in the back of the plane!

Was it great? You bet! Would I take a vacation to most of the places I went? Not on your life! Would I go again if there was a need? In a New York minute!

There are brethren strewn all over this world, and I have met some of the best. I would love to see them again. But I probably won't have that opportunity. As she was giving me a good-bye hug, one dear old sister, whom I met in New Zealand, whispered in my ear, "If I don't see you again, I will see you in heaven."

Our lives are as fragile as that old lady's whisper. It is up to us to pack as much service to God as possible in the short breath of time we have on earth. Hang on tight, because sometimes it can lead you on a wild adventure!

G'day Mates! How ya going on? Feeling like a bit of tucka? Just grab a cupa, and Bob's your uncle. Add a bickie or a chockie, and you're a box of fluffy ducks!

The first time I moved to Winona, Miss., to work with the Choate family in 1972, I noticed that when Betty sang, "This World Is Not My Home", that at the end of the first verse, where it says, "and I can't feel at home in this world any more", Betty was singing the word "world" with two notes instead of one. When I pointed out that there was only one note for the word "world", she replied, "But you can't say wor-ld in one syllable!"

Come to find out, there were lots of words that she could not pronounce in one syllable! Oddly enough, J.C. is totally lacking in Southern accent. Betty, on the other hand, got a double dose!

Several years ago, a brother from Ghana went to New Delhi. During his attempt to talk to Betty, they discovered that they could not understand each other. So, Sister Elzy joined them and began to translate for him what Betty said and visa versa. The funny thing was, they were all three speaking English!

Sunny David, the Indian preacher in New Delhi, who has been associated with the Choates for about 35 years and has been to the States (mostly the southern ones), was preaching in English at a seminar in India. English is the predominant language, since there are over 400 languages spoken in India. One of the brethren came up to him afterwards and asked, "How did you get your southern accent?"

Throughout the trip, in every country -- India, Sri Lanka, New Zealand, Australia, Singapore -- understanding what people were saying has been difficult, even though we were all speaking English.

When we got to New Zealand, I just knew that my problems with language would be over. After all, these were native English speakers! Everywhere else, English had been the second language. So we should have no problems in New Zealand, right?

One of the ladies in the Palmerston North congregation came up to me and said that she and her husband were going to attend college in the US at "Caans or," she asked, "is it Cans?" I looked quite confused, because I had never heard of Caans or Cans, Tennessee. I asked Frances Walker to come over to clarify. She said, very plainly, "Caans". Still confused, I asked her to spell it. She slowly spelled out "K-A-R-N-S".

In Tasmania we actually got to do a little traditional vacationing. Betty had a Saturday seminar and J.C. had to preach on Sunday and Tuesday night, but other than that, we were free for three whole days! Dennis and Shirley Gresham took turns squiring us around the island of about 500,000. It was wonderful! The Christians in Hobart were all lovely.

Which reminds me. Another interesting thing about New Zealand and Tasmania were the men. Big, burly guys were always observing, "My, that is quite lovely!" or, "We had a lovely time." It was very cute.

We went to lunch with Ken and Jane Short before going to a wildlife park to see the kangaroos, wallabies, Tasmanian devils, and such. J.C. reached into his pocket to get his wallet, but Jane stopped him and said, "My shout." Which, being interpreted, means "my treat".

And it has all been a great treat! We may not have understood all the words that we have heard throughout our travels, but we have understood the hearts of our brothers and sisters. Funny how love is greater than words.

It has been a while since I have been able to get on line, so here is a synopsis of the travel to Tasmania.

We left Bangalore by train on Monday evening and arrived in Trivandrum 18 hours later. We were met at the train station by brother P.K. Varghese, who took us to his home.

Several years ago, J.C. and Betty had taken a site-seeing trip with the Varghese family. Since I had never been to south India before, Betty wanted me to see some of the sites (since we had not seen any so far - after a month!). So Thursday we went on a harrowing car ride to visit the palace of Patmanabhapuram and then down to the tip of India where the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal and the Indian Ocean meet.

J.C. reminded me that I had been to Kashmir back when I had lived with the Choate family in India for a year and a half during 1972-74. Now, here I was at the tip of India. "Not many Americans can say that they have been from one end of India to the other", he said. Wow! What an adventurous life I have had!

The next day, when we were ready to leave, Thankum, P.K.'s wife, had tears in her eyes. She told Betty that they had not had a holiday since that time many years ago when they had taken that one with the Choates.

We boarded a Sri Lanka Airlines plane on Friday morning at 9:00 am and got to Banderanaike Airport about 55 minutes later. Lilani Thomas, Reggie Gnanasundarum's daughter, picked us up in her pickup. Lilani is great! Everyone should have the privilege of meeting her. Her life story is an inspirational one, and she tries to make every day count. You won't be around her for more than a minute before you will hear her infectious laugh!

As she drove us to her house, to my surprise, I discovered that she lives about a quarter mile from the ocean! We got to visit it only one evening, though. We did a bit of relaxing there and left by plane on Sunday night at 1:30 am and got to Singapore three hours later at 6:30 am. That is not a math mistake! We were going backwards in time.

We went to the Supreme Hotel and checked in and slept for about 2.5 hours. Once again, I regretted my inability to sleep on a plane. We got up about 11:00 and picked up our tickets for the New Zealand-Australian part of our trip.

We left Singapore at about 8:00 pm that evening and arrived in Auckland, New Zealand on Tuesday morning about 9:00, and were met at the airport by John Staiger. We stayed at his house with his wife, Linda, and family and left by bus the next day for Palmerston North. The 10 hour drive was beautiful. Lots of sheep and cattle, and snow-topped mountains, and wonderful beaches!

Thursday evening was the start of the Ladies' Challenge. There were about 50 ladies who stayed in a cottage motel-like place at night and then drove to the church building for the seminar. Betty was the speaker, and she did a great job. The seminar ended on Saturday at about 3:00. We went back to Graham and Frances Walker's to spend the night.

The next day after morning worship, the Walkers took us to Wanganui where we met Nathan and Rachel Paki and had dinner at their house. We hopped in their car and they drove us to Kent and Rachel O'Donnell's house. They took us to New Plymouth the next day to meet Steve and Juricz Blackman and family. I also met her mother, Ma, who read to me out of the Samoan Bible and then made me read to her to make sure her lessons had taken.

The next day we went site-seeing in Taupo and stayed in a hotel that was 15 meters from the lake! Kent's parents, Wally and Maureen had joined us and we all had a wonderful time together in that beautiful place.

Wednesday morning, we drove for a couple of hours and met Rex Banks, who had come down from Hamilton, just to drive us all the way to Auckland! He dropped us back at the Staigers and took off to get home in time for his Wednesday Bible study.

As we were driving up to John's house, he turned to Betty and said, 'The ladies have a Bible study tonight. I bet you would like to speak at that.' With no preparation time, she headed into that study and did a wonderful job, as usual! When it started, Linda said that they usually had a prayer session in the beginning and then at the end, but for time's sake they would dispense with the starting prayer. Betty, in a panic, shouted out, "Oh, no! We have to pray!"

By the time we got back from the ladies' class, it was 10:30 pm. Since our flight was at 6:00 am, we decided that we would just go to the airport and wait instead of trying to get a few hours of sleep only to get up at 1:30-2:00 in the morning to get to the airport, which was about an hour away. So John got us to the airport at about 12:30. We slept on some chairs, and I wondered around the airport until about 5:15, when we were allowed to board the plane. We went through Melbourne to Tasmania. As we were picking up our luggage, a voice behind said, "There you are! Welcome to Tasmania." Dennis Grisham drove us home to his wife Shirley and she has taken good care of us ever since!

Whew! That was a fast trip, I know! We covered lots of miles and met lots of great brethren. We went from the Indian Ocean to the Pacific, but wherever we were, we were with family, so we were home.

After a month of being in India, we have finally run into some rain. Funny how something so simple can bring such a feeling of normalcy, of all's-right-with-the-worldness.

Bangalore is a city of about six million people, near the middle of India. Swamy and Saroja live in a rented house in a nice area of the city. They will have to move because they are struggling with the rent, but for us, it is perfect!

Don and Beverly Norwood are here, and we are having a great time visiting, eating, shopping, and most importantly, worshipping and fellowshipping with the brethren in Bangalore. The Sunday worship was four hours long! I must admit that I was getting very tired of sitting. J.C. spoke for an hour. Then Don spoke for another hour. Then Swamy introduced all the preachers who had spent the last week at the school, gave three of them an opportunity to tell their story, then presented each one with a gift.

Afterwards, Swamy, Saroja, Sheila (their daughter-in-law), the Norwoods, Choates, and I went to a Chinese restaurant. Because of the rain, we did not travel to another congregation that night, but just visited at home. If you have never visited with Don Norwood, I highly recommend it. He can tell stories all night long, and you would never get tired of hearing them!

It started raining last night. I turned off the fan and let the rain lull me to sleep. I wouldn't say that I have been homesick in India, but I will not deny that the strangeness of the food, living conditions, travel, etc., takes its toll, and weariness sets in. But then something as commonplace as rain happens. And, as I look out the window and see it dripping off the trees, I feel a comfort, a settled-ness.

I think back over the last month and recall those moments which, though seemingly insignificant, have brought that feeling of connection: The sweet burst of citrusy juice from an orange, the smell of soap, the burn of a long swallow of that occasional Coke, the yellow blossoms on the trees across the road, the old dog in the street scratching fleas. And those more significant moments: the hug of a sister or brother in Christ, seeing a scripture reference, and not recognizing anything - but the chapter and verse look familiar!

I recognize the truth that God's world is basically the same, as are the people who inhabit it. The differences in culture and language and food are the spices that jazz it up a bit. And wherever you are, however strange those customs, there are things that keep us connected, things that keep us from losing our footing on the earth; things from the small and insignificant to the great miracle of God's grace.

It has stopped raining. Time to get busy again.

We said goodbye to the New Delhi brethren at about 7 pm, after the evening worship, drove with our sixteen pieces of luggage to the train station (yes that is more than we left the US with). Francis and Vinay, his son, and Sunny and his wife Nargis came with us. We sat on the train together until 8:30, had a pray and said goodbye to them. And we were underway.

At about 9:00, we had the famous train-food that Betty, Elzy (Francis's wife) and I had been cooking all afternoon: masala potatoes (fried potatoes with Indian seasoning), fried pork loin with Indian soy sauce (note to self: bring soy sauce from the US next time!), fried chicken strips, and chapatti (Indian bread similar to tortillas).

Ugh! Train sickness. See you later.

Well, it is Thursday evening. We spend Sunday night, Monday, day and night asleep. All those good intentions of listening to language CDs and reading were lost to a Dramamine/train-rocking induced sleep. And after the first night, the train-food lost its appeal!

We arrived in Kakinada on Tuesday, about 12:00 pm and drove to Joshua and Kabita Gootam's home. Their three boys were all home from college. That evening we went to a village and J.C. preached for about an hour. Since most of the audience were women, after a short break, Joshua Gootam translated as Betty spoke to the women for about 15 minutes. All was going well until Betty finished and Joshua said, "And now we will hear from sister Barbara."

I leaned over and said, "Joshua, I am not a speaker." He said, "Come on. Just say a few words." So before I knew it, I had said a few word and was again seated in my chair, squeezing the plastic arms so tightly they squeeked! The evening ended wonderfully as three were baptized.

Wednesday, I didn't go with J.C. and Betty to the village because Montezuma caught up with me. Wednesday evening, we met with the brethren at the church building here in Kakinada, and then today, we drove two hours to a village, where once again J.C. spoke. After baptizing seven people and having lunch, Betty spoke to the ladies, again with Joshua translating. I was sure I was safe, but I believe in the saying "once bitten twice shy", or something like that. Anyway, I was semi-prepared and lived through the experience. The good thing I can say about my little talk - short and sweet!

Tomorrow we board the train again for a 24 hour trip to Bangalore. My standards have really fallen. I am only keeping out two CDs, have my Dramamine handy and don't really expect to do anything but sleep!

Terrorism is a common fact of life here. With a population consisting of about 12% Moslem, there have been bombings during Hindu festivals and in Hindu markets. In just the past several months, hotels have been bombed, and just last week, a politician's car was bombed. In recent years, radical Hindu groups have been responsible for killing missionaries and believers in Christ.

Sunny was explaining to me about one such bombing that had taken place in Lajpat Nagar (an outdoor market). We were standing in front of one of the stalls, and he was telling me about how people in the stall had been burned alive when a bomb exploded during a Hindu festival, when the market was crowded with shoppers. Believing that lightening can indeed strike twice, and remembering that it was, on this particular day, a Hindu festival, I caught myself inching slowly away as he relayed the story!

Several brethren who have visited us while we have been here have faced potentially serious situations getting to New Delhi. One brother, who is from Manipur, has five children, all of whom lost a whole year of education because of the fighting between the Kuki tribe (pronounced "cookie")and the Paites.

Nepal, though not a part of India, is also plagued with internal strife. One brother who visited us brought his wife with him for protection! He was hoping that the Maoist insurrectionists would not bother him during his travels across his country, if he was with his family. He also hoped the same thing of the Nepalese army!

Nepal is noted for its Gurka soldiers. In fact, at one time its major export was soldiers. The Gurkas are known for their ruthlessness and total loyalty to whomever they serve.

Back in India, the state of Nagaland is also a hotbed of strife. There are about 16 tribes. The people of one of those tribes still wear no clothes. In fact, "naga" means naked. This is gradually changing, as the children are being educated. And there are still canibals in them there hills! So, if someone from Nagaland says he wants to have you over for dinner, run!

There is one other thing that I need to point out. If you are ever in Nagaland, and a Naga comes into town, and you happen to notice that he is naked, don't laugh! If you laugh at him, he might take out a big knife and, swish! Your head is gone! They take great offence at being laughed at. So the next time you see someone naked, don't laugh! He may be a Naga!

This is also the festival of Durga. Hindus fast during the nine days leading up to October 5 (the festivals are based on the position of the moon, so the dates vary from year to year). On October 5, they will take terra cotta images of the idols and immerse them in rivers throughout India.

The Hindu philosophers believe in God as one entity. God is personified in a triune of deities, but also exists in everything. The triune consists of Brahma, the creator, Vishnu, the preserver, and Shiva, the destroyer.

Durga, the goddess of destruction, is Shiva's wife. There are those who still sacrifice children to Durga, although it is illegal to do so.

Ganesh, the god of prosperity, is Shiva's son. When Ganesh was born, Shiva was so excited that he accidently looked at his son with his third eye (his eye of destruction), which burned off Ganesh's head. So Shiva sent his servant out to get the head of the first thing he found, which was an elephant. Therefore, Ganesh has an elephant's head.

Most Hindus have little shrines in their homes where they put an image of one of the Hindu gods or sub-gods, or a picture of their guru or one of their relatives. They decorate these little shrines with flowers and burn incense to them and pray to them. Many of the taxis or rickshaws have little shrines on their dashboards. Most shops have one, also. In India, representations and reminders of their gods are ever-present.

Ordinary people practice idolatry, going to the temples, making sacrifices, and observing the festivals and other rituals without paying much attention to the philosophy behind their religion. That is relegated to the holy men and gurus. In a simplified version, God is in everything, and everything is god. Rocks, trees, rats, cows, humans - god can take any form. Therefore, all things can be worshiped as god, and all things ultimately will return to the one entity of god.

According to Hinduism, during your lifetime, you forget that you are part of god, so you have to be reborn. If you are bad during your lifetime, you may be reborn as a rat. If you are good, you may be reborn as a holy man. Through millions of rebirths, you are finally born as a man, as a holy man. Only then can you escape the cycle of being reborn, to become again a part of the entity of god. Many people think of Nirvana as heaven, but the two concepts are not the same. Nirvana really means that you have escaped rebirth, and have been re-absorbed into the entity of god, ceasing to be a separate individual.

On October 5, about eight hundred million people in India will be celebrating the festival of Durga, the goddess of destruction, who demands appeasement with the blood of children. They will immerse their gods in water. But they will not raise them up out of the water.

On October 5, children of God will be worshipping the risen Lord, who gave His blood for all mankind, who redeems us once for all, as we are. He demands our immersion in the waters of baptism, but unlike the Hindu gods, He raises us up, fills us with the Holy Spirit and makes us children of the Living God.

Who will you be worshipping on October 5?

In the midst of this chaos, three or four cows will be lying out in the median. Pedestrians just walk around them. How they (the cows) got across those lanes of traffic, I cannot imagine. They just lie there, in bovine contentment as the rest of the world zips past.

Technically, the owner of the cows can be fined, since they do present a very real traffic hazard. But like the no-honking rule, it is apparently not being obeyed.

We went to Nehru Place to get a computer cable. In the middle of this big complex of shops and offices, there was a cow eating out of a trash bin.

Francis and I took our excursion to Nehru Place by bus. No one but me is crazy enough to take the bus - but even then, only with Francis. Although, he is threatening to give me four rupees and make me get on the bus and get home by myself. I think Betty will put her foot down about that. At least, I hope she will!

Sunday, after morning worship, some of the young people took us to the Dilli Haat. It is a market with booths from which they sell items that represent each state in India (there are about 30 states now). Each state is noted for some craft or cloth material.

We ate at one of the outdoor cafes. After lunch, the waiter placed a little tray of green anise seeds with a few grains of sugar, which were about the size of a half-caret. They are used as a breath-freshener and digestive aid. Most of the Indians I was sitting with said they didn't eat it out like this because it had dust, etc. But then, some of them reached in and got a small spoonful. I tried it, and they were right. It was a little gritty, and there were a few kernels that were something besides anise seeds. But it was really quite refreshing.

We went to the Red Fort for a little site seeing, but, unfortunately, it was closed on Mondays. The Red Fort is in Old Delhi. It was crowded and dirty, and hawkers and beggars swarmed us. It reminded me of what I don't like about India. The Indians don't give anything to the beggars because they say it perpetuates the abuse of young women and children, and many of the beggars are drug-pushers. They stand around and beg until someone comes up and gives them the signal that they want drugs. Like everywhere, it is big business and controlled by powerful people.

After yesterday's trip to Old Delhi, I have to admit that I was feeling depressed and culture-shocked. Like most Americans, I like my personal space and feel very uncomfortable when it is violated. But today we went to Defence Colony market to the internet cafe and then I invited Betty to stop in at a little espresso bar for a cappuccino for her and an espresso for me. I perked right up after that. I told Betty that that was all it took to cheer me back up. We both agreed that I am by nature very shallow :)

With renewed vigor, or maybe just a caffeine buzz, I step out into the world of India once more. Just have to remember to watch out for the cowpats.

Today, I want to tell you a little about India. It is a city of 11-12 million people. They have a constant influx of people from villages throughout India. Needless to say, this has stretched their already limited resources.

There is a MacDonald's close by, a Baskin Robins, a Domino's Pizza and a Pizza Hut. More Indians have more disposable income to buy the kinds of things we buy in America. But abject poverty is always close by. With such a large population, there is no way that there can be enough jobs and housing for everyone. The government has tried, without success, to stop migration into the city. Families will find a spot along a wall, and that becomes their home. I saw one lady on the sidewalk with an umbrella and a few little household articles. Her house was the umbrella. She just moved it around throughout the day to ward off the hot sun.

Water is in critical supply. There is no longer freely running water. The city turns the water on at intervals, and you have to be ready to turn on your pumps and pump water into your storage tanks. If you don't turn on your pumps at that time, you don't get water for that day. This is for the people who have homes and storage tanks. I don't know what the people living on the street do.

In spite of this and other problems, India has grown significantly. Thirty years ago, most of the traffic was buses, taxis, scooters, rickshaw scooters, and bicycles. Today, it is mostly buses (using natural gas - much less pollution), cars, and motorcycles. Yet, in a step backwards, they also have bicycle rickshaws, a concession which was made in an effort to supply jobs for incoming village people.

More people are living in nice homes and driving nice cars. The government has granted loans, which they had not done in the past. They have built large complexes further out of the city, and people buy their apartment within that building complex. Sort of like condos. We went to Sunny David's place on Sunday, and it was really nice.

Clothing has also changed. In the cities, men gave up wearing traditional Indian garb in the middle part of the 20th century. Though the majority of women still wear traditional clothing, a lot of the younger women are wearing Western ware. Sari shops, which used to be everywhere, have converted to ready-made clothing. Thirty years ago, you could not find ready-made. The other day, Betty took some cotton sheet material to a seamstress to make some pants for me and some pajamas for her. Later, we went to Defence market (a big shopping area) and found ready-made pants for $1.00 and pjs for not much more! Now we are regretting the money we will have to pay the seamstress for stitching us some sheet-clothes!

The one thing that has not changed is the noise! Indians love to honk their horns. With the proliferation of cars and outrageous traffic conditions, they are honking fools! I wish I had a soundbite to share with you. They actually have no-honk zones. Technically, you are not supposed to honk within a 100 meters of a traffic light. If you do, a policeman can write your license number down and send you a ticket. Apparently, no one worries about that much, unless they see a policeman standing around!

Well, I am off to pick up my sheet-pants. More later.

Well, the last time we talked, I was worried because J.C. took the back seat out of the van so he could get more luggage in. Betty rode to the airport in the back of the van on the suitcases, and I rode up front with J.C., because I get car sick (grin). The trip to India took a total of 48 hours!

We hopped on a plane to Atlanta, then back to Los Angeles. We were scanned and patted and passed through all the barriers without a problem. What they thought three old people weighed down with luggage would do is beyond me. If I were going to blow up a plane, I certainly wouldn't bother taking a bunch of luggage! But in a world that insists on asking me if I get the senior citizen discount, it was refreshing to be addressed as "young lady" by the security people. So that more than made up for the inconveniences!

There was a four-hour layover in Los Angeles before we boarded Singapore Airlines (the best airline!) for a 14-hour trip across the ocean. Being the old pros that they are, Betty and J.C. fell asleep everytime they sat down, while I watched movies and read. We reached Taipei, where we had another hour layover, then another four hours to Singapore for a 6-hour layover. We went into town to get a video camera for one of the men for his TV work, and J.C. asked me if I wanted to eat at Popeye's. I was scandalized! After finishing our errands, we decided to get back to the airport, where we ate at Burger King. It is a small world. Then it was back on the plane for another four hours to New Delhi.

The brethren picked us up at the airport, drove us to the church building and lugged all our heavy stuff upstairs. After visiting for a few minutes, they left us to ourselves.

The good news was, it was shower time. The bad news was, there was very little water. I will try to attach a picture to show you the shower. It is actually a bucket and a cup. You collect the water in the bucket, wash down and then rinse with the cup. The problem: only a half-gallon of water came out before the spigot dried up! We are still working on this problem. But you would be surprised how far you can stretch a half-gallon of water!

Saturday was a rest day. We went out to buy me some Indian garb. Sunday was wonderful! I met folks I had not seen in 30 years. Some of them had been tiny children when I left India in 1974; others, like me, had grown old and gray and fatter! I also met my internet buddy in person, my friend, Ajit, who is married to one of Sunny David's girls, Pretti. Sunny's mama, who is 82, just hugged and hugged me. I honestly had never expected to see her again.

India is unimaginable to most people. But the brethren are the same everywhere: wonderful to be with. And no matter the differences in dress, customs or language, God is worshipped in spirit and in truth.

Now that you are sufficiently warned:

First stop: Jackson, Mississippi. I dumped the dog (not as easy as it sounds...sob!), tied up all my loose ends and packed my duds. We leave for Jackson after lunch.

I am a little worried because we removed the back seat in the van, where I usually sit. Hummm. Naw! They wouldn't leave me! I have a ticket!