India/Nepal Report #14 (really #15): Sab, Nov. 10, 2012 at 8:40 a.m. from Aizawl, Mizoram
Dear Family and Friends:
The Internet connection is working again, even though slow. We leave tomorrow morning early for the airport and so will try to catch up a few things here before we leave and do not know if we can get Internet elsewhere. We live one day (or less) at a time on these trips.
Last night we preached at a church where we had been before. Some remembered us. They always appreciate hearing something new from USA even though our message is not really new. This Dinthar church is on the other side of Aizawl than the business district and has very many steps cut out of the mountain and lined with rock blocks like the ones they salvage from a landslide. We didn’t count the number of steps but I told Biaka and David that the church builders must have calculated the distance of a Sabbath day’s journey and worked to that standard.
Here at the Guest room at the Conference Office we noticed the hardness of the mattress once again. I told Mary Alice that we get room and board here. The board is under the mattress. But the room is a safe place to be and is handy to get around to our appointments.
7 P.M. SABBATH: We had planned for breakfast in our room just to use up some of the fruit we have been given along with whole wheat bread bought for us by Nettie, Biaka’s wife. They are so solicitous of our health and comfort. We were eating our soymilk and bread and fruit when the girl who lives with Biaka and family brought some cooked cereal with nuts and dried fruit and some fresh papaya. It was very tasty and good. We in turn gave them two papayas and a few oranges (tangerines) that were given to us by people wishing us well in Saiha shortly before we left. Papaya is difficult and messy for us to handle in our room, so having it prepared elsewhere is nice.
Biaka picked us up in one of the Conference vehicles at 9 a.m. to take us to the Zemabawk church to preach the Sabbath sermon today. He uses that Conference vehicle sometimes in taking us since it has four-wheel drive and it is sometimes necessary to use that to get up the steep hills with rough pavement even in Aizawl. The drive is really like going through an obstacle course because of the narrow roads and heavy traffic. Often he had to stop and back up to some wider place in order to let a big truck coming from the other direction pass without taking off part of the car. In some places even two small cars have a hard time passing with all of the pedestrian and market congestion along the road. It is really a challenge driving almost anywhere in India and I’m glad we don’t have to do it. We are very content to let the more experienced do the driving.
David, our translator, came on his motorbike with his wife and young daughter as passengers. When they arrived at Zemabawk church, she had to use one of the nearby houses to change her clothes and those of their little daughter from those suitable for riding so far along dusty roads to those acceptable for church. How many of us have to do that in USA? David came to translate to save Biaka’s voice and also because he says he really enjoys my sermons and when he translates them he remembers all the details afterward to use himself in his work. Since we have been here so many times it enables me to use illustrations that apply in their culture.
In the sermon I cited some special memories from when we had contact with them over the years. They listened very carefully. The spiritual lessons brought out from those memories will stick in their minds. Jesus used that method in His teaching while on earth. Lessons from everyday life around them became vehicles to convey truth and fix it in the memory. We can learn from His methods as well as His teachings.
On the trip from Saiha to Aizawl on Thursday we had to cross a river twice. Once was easy using a bridge, but further along we had to drive onto a ferryboat to be deposited at the other side. We marvel at the skill of those who maneuver the boat just right to match the drive on and off places exactly. They also tie the boat securely to posts on the shore to make sure it does not drift out a bit and let the car slide off into the river. The entrance and exit to and from the boat is the hardest part because of the terrible condition of the road with big rocks and ruts and sometimes muddy sections worsened by the heavy trucks that also use the roads.
We had to wait a while on the far side of the river on the steep incline over rough rocks etc. while a truck loaded with sand from the river struggled with help to get to the top. They would maneuver a few feet and then put a big rock behind the wheel until the truck could get a fresh start to gain a few more feet. Finally we all managed to get up and through the village at the top of that incline with the chickens and other livestock darting here and there. I told Mahooa that it is good he goes slowly enough through the villages that the people don’t need to have an unscheduled chicken dinner.
On several of the roads we noticed herds of Brahman cattle being herded and learned that they come from Burma. People raise them there and drive them over the line in to Mizoram. A little baksheesh (money to the border guards) makes it possible without hindrance. Beef is increasingly popular among the Mizos and, of course they are not Hindu and so do not worship cows as a manifestation of one chief god.
Pigs are everywhere here and when they are butchered, NOTHING is wasted, not even the waste of the pig. I will spare you the details that are so revolting to us. When we see meat hanging in the open market gathering the dust of the road, we realize that what they eat from on the outside of the animal is not worse than what they eat from its insides.
Pastor Hluna from Saiha told us stories while we were riding so far together over those rough roads to visit remote villages. He is Mizo but at one time went to work among primitive Mara people. One Mara man invited him to come fishing at the river. Wanting to get closer to the Mara, Pastor Hluna accepted. They hiked through the jungle to the river and found it too turbulent for fishing. The man was also a hunter and was hungry. So they saw monkeys swinging from the trees in the jungle. They scattered at the sight of the man with his gun, but one baby monkey became a target. He shot it through the hand and it fell to the ground. The man immediately cut its throat and then sucked the blood as the heart kept pumping it out. It was all over his face and clothes. Pastor Hluna was revolted by the sight but could do nothing. He said the baby monkey’s closed eyes and face reminded him of a human baby. Shortly after, the Mara shot an older monkey and did likewise with it, sucking the blood once again. Now our pastor became uneasy thinking he could be the next victim if his guide had also a liking for human blood. Pastor did not go on any more fishing expeditions. These primitive tribes like the taste of monkey meat but the above Mara only wanted the blood.
I thought of how some medieval religious institutions also were bloodthirsty and put to death in horrible ways those who did not follow their dictates but chose to live by Bible truth. Historians estimate that more than fifty million “heretics” perished in that way. That is equal to all the lives lost during World War II. The book of Revelation foretells a time when such persecution will once again come to faithful Christians. This will be followed by the seven last plagues and one of them is the water turning to blood for those who have been bloodthirsty toward God’s people. God is well aware of what happens to His saints!
On this trip we have learned more about several of our previous friends. Biaka, our “adopted son”, has tried to be helpful to many people in special need. His heart is more generous than his income can support. He held a series of revival meetings for SDA in Darzo, the town where Pastor Hluna comes from. A young Baptist youth named Rakrim attended and was convicted of truth he wanted to follow. His parents told him he would not be their son if he joined SDA, but he chose to do it anyhow, and they put him out. Biaka opened his home to the boy who became his unofficially adopted son. Rakrim has been to ATS (Assam Training School) and then on to Spicer College where he will soon graduate with his Masters degree in theology. He just phoned his “father” and told him that he has the highest grades in the whole college. He preaches well like Biaka. Recently he spent a summer with his own parents where they enjoyed his preaching.
Another girl living with Biaka is like an orphan even though she has birth parents. They divorced and each remarried. None wanted the girl, so Biaka took her in. She helps with their food preparation and housework and goes to a local school conducted in Hindi, one of the official Indian languages.
We inquired about one of our first translators in Mizoram when we preached the series in Maubawk in 1998. He was then pastor of the Republic church and sensed the need for further education. Even though he and his wife had one or two children, they took in five more when a young mother was dying and asked if they would raise her children with theirs. They could not turn her down even though they did not have the money to care for the others. We helped send him to Spicer College and when his wife discovered that she had advanced cancer, we helped them again to cover the surgery expenses. Now we learned that she has died. He completed his education and now is pastoring in Malaysia. The children are grown and live in the Aizawl area. One is a very successful businessman and the others seem to be doing well.
Today we also saw one of the first drivers when we were in Mizoram. He is a jolly fellow. We met his wife and small child after having lunch at Biaka’s house. We also saw Biaka’s older sister who had lunch with us. She is one of the three who escaped the father’s murderous intent by running from him into the jungle, hiding out and walking three days journey to Aizawl where they found refuge with an SDA family.
After our “taking rest” this afternoon we had a visitor, Mrs. Van and her two grandchildren. She was a professional radio singer and once was voted the best radio soloist in Mizoram. She sang for us in our first series of meetings here and in some subsequent ones. She has attended several General Conference sessions in USA and elsewhere and was asked to sing. Her husband has since died and also several other relatives, so she was very sad for a period and vowed never to sing again. But on one of our trips I asked her to sing for our series in Siphir, a village near Aizawl. She did and it helped her break out of her isolation and vow never to sing again. Now she is very jubilant and hopeful for the future of her daughters and grandchildren who live with her in her spacious house. We have been dinner guests there in times past. She heard we were here this time but was not able to come until now because of other appintments.
Mary Alice is doing the final packing for our flight to Calcutta tomorrow. She prefers that I not “help” and I am just using the time to catch up on some thoughts for our diary that you are reading right now.
With love,
Glenn and Mary Alice, (Dad and Mom, Grandpa and Grandma)