An Extraordinary Day in Downtown Chennai
It is hard to tell at the start of a day what it will be. My camera will not work so I will try to explain it in words.
The focus at the start of the day was the car; left front tire wearing on the outer edge. Today is the only day for a week to get it repaired and we are traveling farther out from Chennai each week. We could not get into a shop before class time, so Kumar took it in while I was teaching. How will we get to the naming ceremony for the child of a pastor coming to the class if it doesn’t get repaired quickly?
The teaching went very smoothly. The 36 men were attentive and responsive to the material. I could see them thinking, questioning, agreeing, smiling and learning. Teaching can be so exhilarating. They did not ask questions as I paused between sections. We were able to cover most of the material and also consider a question from an earlier class: How do you know if the congregation is learning what we preach? Even though it was at the end of a 2 1/2 hour session, they were interested in the discussion of it.
After class a pastor my age asked me in English about Hindus building temples in the States. I had to explain the government would not prohibit them because we believe in religious freedom. Just another amazing mini-discussion on the north edge of downtown Chennai, India.
After the teaching the car problem was back. They do need to replace the bearing and it won’t be done for awhile. We will need to hire a vehicle. No problem! One of the pastors has a motor rickshaw and he drove it to class. Rs 500 ($10) gets 3 pastors and I to the ceremony, then 2 of the pastors to the bus depot and me way down to the south side of Chennai to the apartment.
The pastor/father guided us through ever narrower streets. It was a very crowded, busy collection of shops for metal repairs, laundries, basic food stuffs and living space in any unused place. The pastor moved the neighbors laundry washing tub aside so we could get the car off to the side of the street letting people pass.
Pastor D Paul, Pastor Rajamini, district chairman and brother of the father, and I went up to the roof because there was no space in the two floors of the home. I believe the father-in-law owns the house and has a few of his children and families there. The children were dressed in their best clothes, smiling and giggling, arguing how many got to sit one one of the plastic chairs. There was a cloth awning hung on four posts making welcome shade. A fan powered by extension cords from the lower part of the house increased the light breeze. The pastors and I sat on the plastic chairs behind the metal folding table as special guests. The children and other relatives, the mother and new baby sat on the plastic tarp on the concrete. The laundry hung drying at the edge of the building.
But the greatest honor was in the ceremony. The two pastors represented the BELC and officiated the naming of Jessi Angel. I, as the teacher and representative of the CLC of the United States, held her in my arms; I prayed to God for blessings on her and spoke the benediction to her in front of her family. Her eyes, opened wide, focused on my face and voice; she cooed softly as I spoke.
Of course they wanted us to stay for a little lunch. I had the deciding vote and we stayed. This was not a ham sandwich Lutheran lunch. Fresh hot boiled rice with chicken tikka, chicken tandoori and I think vegetable curry. It was spicy and very good. They were very considerate to me. A cup of water to wash my hand before eating, a spoon to use instead of my fingers, a fresh, chilled bottle of water. I ate a lot for me, but it was not a lot as they saw it. They asked if the food was too spicy. The pastors explained I did not eat much. They offered hand made sweets for dessert; sweet and tasty.
As we were about to go I asked Pastor D Paul to translate for me to the mother and father. I told them my brother’s daughter had just had a son. The father saw the picture of my mother holding him. Richard sent it by email and I put it in the before -class slide show . I told them I was happy to be with them at this time since I would not see the baptism of my grandnephew.
Then a motor rickshaw ride back. We were already in the industrial area. On the way to the bus terminal are the railroad yards and ship docks. The driver spoke some English and was a tour guide pointing out the sights. On through large government buildings, CM house, corporate offices, Madras University and the great beach. I pointed to the section the Mission Helpers visited in 2007 and he pointed to a large statue dedicating it to Gandhi.
On to SP Road and Hero Honda showroom and the apartment next door. I told him the trip was worth double the pre-determined price as he insisted he carry my back pack up to the apartment. He reluctantly accepted the payment but he asked me to bless him with a prayer and thanked me for it as he left.
Oh yes about that car. Kumar met me at the apartment with the bill for the car repair. We reviewed the plan for the next 7 days and should find time Monday or Tuesday to get a camera. I paid him the Rs 4,45o. So Brother David we will need to talk when you return to India.
The end of the extraordinary day is that I type it on the computer and share it.