poitu varam

THE CHRONICLES OF A FLEDGLING MISSIONARY CALLED JOLLYBEGGAR "i still gaze fondly at all of the pictures, drink ginger beer, bunch my food, listen to punjabi dj tunes, play my dholki, wear my sarong (around the house only because in canada it is still really uncommon for a man to wear a wraparound skirt in public) and speak way too much of the differences between east and west..."

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

you are our guest

august 17: wednesday: day 8 (part 3)
the group decided at lunch to go on an 8-hour trip to see a tea plantation. i asked al if there was some work or visitation i could do instead.

i don't feel comfortable going off sight-seeing when i have personally sequestered support from my friends and my church to go on this mission. apart from coming in response to a call from God, i haven't really done anything cool to get here like eustace or colleen and i feel enough like a freeloader without becoming a tourist to boot...

i was not judging the others who were interested in going; i was struggling with both the whole 'holiday' idea and the fact that i wanted to report back to my church the rebuilding progress in the tsunami-affected area around robert's church in batticaloa. because this wasn't happening, i felt not only disappointment but also the need to ensure that the money and the prayers of those who sent me were well-spent.

upon my return to the room in the afternoon after a really eye-catching walk back to the hotel from the conference centre through the lush tropical countryside (this path looks much different when you are driving an auto for the first time) i was pleasantly surprised to find my laundry. i had left it out in the morning as i left, secretly wondering if i'd ever actually see these items again. however, there they were outside my room, washed and neatly pressed. i would have to rewash the pair of pants worn at the baptism because they were still looking a bit rough from the ride back in mohamed's dusty auto, but things were certainly freshened up.

the laundry was wrapped in newspaper (an odd choice considering how newsprint runs) with various items of local and regional interest and colour- written in tamil, of course. the best section was 'spoken english' which had some simple and pointless dialogue in english to practice with a friend... reminded me of you are our guest on the bob and doug mckenzie album... or french classes i took in high school:

ou est bill? bill est dans la salle de bain.


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