Dramatic irony. That's all I can say about my experience in India. Such poverty yet so rich a culture... the look of underdevelopment yet buzzing in high-fidelity technology. Then there was the anachronistic elephant working beside a bulldozer beneath a monorail bridge. Who'da thought? And I was only there for three days!
Many thanks goes to so many of you, family friends, who made this trip possible for Juliana and me. What a blessing you are. Thank You!!!
In an attempt to provide a sense of what happened, I have invited Jules to write on this blog site about her seven week journey in India. As she gathers her thoughts, it seemed appropriate to post a couple of pictures from our trip while we wait. Cheers!
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Thank you all for the support you have shown to me and to my family. My dad asked me to write something quite awhile ago and to be honest I pushed back from it. There was no reason really, I just had no idea what I would say. How would I provide a legitimate summation of my experience? An experience that has effected me so deeply and profoundly that no words seem to ever express what I feel. The only way I feel I can even begin to capture this is through something I wrote soon after I came back from my trip. So here it is...
ReplyDeleteHoles in soles but eyes unblinded. Cautious touch melts even the cruelest grasps of poverty. Smiles. Smiles. Smiles. Smiles. They look up but I look around. I seek for comprehension, I seek for audible depictions to pitch and sound. But language brings only the kindest of barriers. Deep inside I search to hide but nothing can keep me from their eyes. All I see is laughter, all I feel is innocence. I become drunk in their simplicity, I am unbound in the dirt beneath our fingertips. In their breaths I finally find my own. In their petite hands I am lost in fragility and beyond all rescue. The flecks of gold in their eyes mirror the world into mine. Their songs drown out the prophets of the ages. They are the saviors, the infants of understanding. I have been conquered with the love of a child and will never be the same again.
Wow Jules. Great imagery of experience through poetry. Thanks for posting. I'm blessed to be called your dad.
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