Our third day in Kurnool began like all the rest.  The Muslim call to prayer was making a good alarm clock.  From the time I decided to follow God, I have devoted time in the morning to spend with Him.  The methodical call to prayer of the Muslims is admirable in that they DO devote time every day to worshipping Allah.  But what do they say to him and what does he say to them?  Their relationship appears to be very ordered and respectful, but devoid of the connection and practicality that I have enjoyed so much.  I prayed to God that He would never let me make our time together a mere tradition - empty of real connection and practicality.

Our team met every morning for a worship time together.  Sometimes the conference leaders joined us in the singing and sharing of what we had each individually learned about God and ourselves in our own personal worship time.

Pr. John and the Conf. president at a team meeting time.

The students arrived today and we ate lunch all together at the hotel.  Pr. Kelly let me borrow one of the Indian cell phones to call Mom and Dad.

At 5pm we headed out to visit one of the villages that would be transporting people to Ballawallan for the meetings.  A typical Indian village: “houses” were built side by side, sometimes with a space to walk between them but commonly with no space at all between.  The houses were mud brick coated with stucco and generally 12ft x 12ft.  The wealthier ones had two rooms of that size.  The floor was often cement and there was a little chimney in the corner where a fire of a few sticks would be made to cook the meals if there was rain or no space to cook outside the house.  A few metal pots, pans, plates and spoons hung on the walls.  And there was usually a shelf or two carved out of the brick walls where extra clothes or a blanket or two were kept.  Some people were very proud of their electricity which allowed for a ceiling fan - a luxury that I wish everyone in India could have - it was SO hot in those little houses with no windows and 110F outside and inside (maybe more inside).  The beds were cots made of stout sticks with loosely woven bark strippings for the “mattress.”  Some people had metal pole frames with nylon strippings.  The bed was propped up against one wall and taken outside for sleeping on hot summer nights like this.  A few people had brightly colored pictures on the walls from advertisements or political propaganda.  A Hindu would have an image or two on their shelf that they would pray to.  A Christian had a picture of Jesus or Heaven.

Inside a house (maybe 10' x 10')

Cooking outside.  The family bed in the foreground.

A nice village neighborhood.

Skinny, full grown bantum chickens scratch for even skinnier bugs.

Outside (and sometimes inside) skinny little chickens ran around with the pigs, cows, and wild dogs.  Sometimes you would see a duck, goat, donkey, and occasionally a monkey.  You don’t mess with those monkeys!  They have nasty teeth and dispositions to match.  We were warned not to feed them or approach them.

Don't feed the monkeys!

This milk cow was tethered, but usually the "holy" cows roam wherever they choose.

The village well in the middle of the day.

Villages had one or two wells where the higher caste people would get their water first and then the lower castes.  One village asked us to please provide another well for them because there were too many people there trying to use one well and by the time the lower caste people could get the water, the day was far spent and they missed precious time in the fields.

A “sewer” line (i.e. an open run off of “water,” etc.) ran down each narrow street just outside the house doors.  Some places had stones where you could walk on the edge above the mess, which I carefully did!  Everything liquid (or not so liquid) ran along here through the streets and provided a wonderful breeding ground for maggots, mosquitoes, and...

This first time in a village all I could see were filthy, raggedy children; curious, toothless faces of adults; and trash everywhere.  One young woman holding a baby warily watched us come down the street with our ever-present entourage of native children following.  When we reached her, she ran around to the back of the house to hide.

We began our visit at the church, where Pr. Kelly gave a brief talk on Daniel chapter 3 and how the God of Heaven protected the three boys who loyally, trusted Him.  Then we were paraded through town led by a few church members banging on drums and the children singing and skipping along.  This was our advertisement for the meetings I guess.  People could get a look at us and see if they wanted to come to the next village to our meetings.  We stopped at certain homes pointed out by the local Bible worker and with the translator’s help prayed for the families living there.

Pr. Kelly praying with a family in their doorway.

Night had come and our driver got lost trying to get us to Ballawallan.  Children were waiting for us there.  They were intrigued with Rachel Odenthal and Toni Crumley.  I was already “old hat.”  Or maybe I was acting too “adult” to be interesting to the kids...  but I was so exhausted from the time zone change and heat, that I hardly knew which way was up that first week.

About 200 people came to the meeting tonight.  About 50 were non-Christians.  An owl sat in the tree just over the stage where Pr. Kelly preached.  You could barely see it in the darkness above the cloth “roof” of the stage, but as it flew, the children I was sitting with all started whispering and pointing.    

Everything was late tonight because we waited for the tractor to arrive from that other village with a wagon load of people.  We didn’t get back to the hotel until 11pm.

The kids lining the tailgate of the tractor that came from another village.

A full tractor load!