Here is another pointless reminiscence:
A few years back, I traveled to India with an organization called Open Doors. I was there to train Church Leaders on how to have a biblical perspective about persecution.
We had just spent a week at the Central India Christian Mission and the founder's wife, Indu, made a fantastic feast for us. She served all sorts of Indian foods, a spread of American foods, pizzas, pastas, it was literally a feast. (On a side note, we went and saw a local hindu school and temple that had their own growing rock, just like the one from the Temple of Doom. When the dudes started chanting and playing their drums, I thought they were going to float up in the air.)
After the feast, I was stuffed and on the jeep ride from the mission to the town of Ranchi, I began to feel more than just stuffed. I started to feel sick. At first I thought I was just carsick, but it was more than that. Don't tell Indu, but I was starting to get feverish and absolutely ill.
When we got to Ranchi (pronounced just like "raunchy"), they took us to a hotel and I grabbed my key and went and flopped down on the bed, so glad to be laying down. A short time later, the whole crew came to my door and told me we were leaving. "This place was disgusting," they said. When they asked if I didn't agree, I told them that I liked it there and I wanted to stay in bed.
They took us to another hotel, which later did seem quite nice. I don't remember much about that night, except that I called Diane and told her I wanted to go home now and I came down to the brunch happy to be alive and able to eat something.
I included the two pictures above from the CICM website, because I am certain that both of these guys were there when we were teaching at the mission.
If you need a lesson to take away, here it is:
Don't get sick on the road to Ranchi.
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