the smell of india

After a brutal 24 hour journey from OKC to Delhi, we met up with our international team and got a quick nights rest (I use the word “rest” loosely) in our hotel. We arrived in the middle of the night Delhi time, and yet the city was not asleep. The airport was like a beehive of taxi divers, baggage carriers and peddalers crawling around the conglamaration of flight weary travelers. As we rode through the Delhi streets on our way to the hotel, I couldn’t help but wonder why people were out so late. They are just standing around looking out into the dark night. I am learning that this is just India. People everywhere. So many many people.
The smell of smoke is thick. Sergai, one of our Ukranian brothers wants to know “what is that smell? I smelt it as the plane was landing.”

Lars, the founder and leader of Global Action responds, ‘It’s the smell of India. It smells like home.”

In Delhi there is always smoke. I learn today as we drive through the streets that fires are always burning. Fire from cookouts on the street. Fire from car engines and motorcycles and tuk tuks. I see a guy on the side of the road burning car tires. It is the smell of India.
In the 14th century Tamerlame defeated Delhi and their army of Elephants by tethering thousands of camels together and setting them on fire and charging them toward the Indian lines. The elephants, obviously spooked by the sight of stampeding flaming camels turned toward the Indian front and trampled the hapless Indian line. This was how Temur defeated the impenetrable city and subsequently burned it to the ground. How appropriate that the Muslim hoards brought fire to this city 600 years ago. The fires have not gone out.

Sergai is a Ukranian pastor who came to India last year. He looks like a linebacker. When he speaks his jaw juts out and finishes every sentence with a smile and glowing eyes. You can see his passion- even when you can’t understand what he is saying. Lars told me that when Sergai went to the slum for the first time, he stood off to the side of the group and wept. Lars went to him and asked if he was OK. Sergai responded, “I thought that we in the Ukrain were the poor ones. I wasn’t expecting this.”

This year he has brought 6 people from his Ukranian church with him. How cool it is to see Ukranian believers reach out to the lost of India. The gobal church is alive and well.

We have just finished our time in the slum. I have no words to describe what we have seen. On this Sunday morning we have worshipped with the children of the Sangamvihar
Slum. There were over a hundred children packed into a small room. Indian children are very beautiful. The smallest girls paint their rosy cheeks for affect. They danced for us and sang the songs they have learned. It is obvious that this program was prepared for us for weeks. They sang about Zacheaus and about the disciples in the boat and about the Good Shepherd. They quoted scripture and sang many praise songs. Parents, most of them hindu, huddled in the back listening to the children sing and the teachers teach their lesson. The conditions here are very harsh. People are literally living in garbage here. They share the dirty street with cows and dogs and other scavengers. But in this little room the children get a taste of the heavenly city.