INDIA: Dark Miracle Tricks

(but really, not so dark, and not so miraculous)

Vizakhapatnum, India: DAY 5

March 25, 2000

The past few days have been a whirlwind of activity. Every day we've been to a new village farther into the interior.

In most places the kids come to us and touch our skin, and play with our hair, because we are the first white people they've seen.

We're going strong 1950's mission-style: A semi-portable electric sound system, complete with huge electric batteries, that weighs a ton. It's hilarious watching the middle-aged guys who think it's so important lug it around. With their brown braided belts, tucked-in polo shirts, and mismatched neckerchiefs (soiled bandanas), they look the part banging the huge system against their legs and guts all the way to every makeshift stage. If it were necessary, that would be one thing. But the crowds are seldom more than 200 people, negating the need for an amplified microphone. Guess it's a lot like some churches in the States in that respect: sound system set up for a group of 25. Odd. But if it makes the preachers feel better, it's all goooood.

Yesterday we came upon a village center, buzzing full of wide-eyed Indians. A makeshift tent with booths underneath was set up. Stark white sheets lined the ground, and every patch held two or three brown men, also clothed in white clothes. Some had beards, some had had no hair, some had their jet black hair died frizzy red. And people were crowded around by the dozens.

Our driver told us through an interpreter that it was "holy week" in that village, and all the local holy men had arrived to sell blessings, offer good fortunes, and perform various "impossible" feats.

The more superstitious on our team immediately began a torrent of praying in tongues, apparently convinced that was the only way to prevent a demon from entering them. It was annoying because then the rest of us couldn't speak to each other or hardly even think. When a few people get into a prayer frenzy such as that (which, from my understanding, would be far more appropriate in their personal prayer closet), it seems like others can't help but join in the mass hysteria themselves, piping in, too. Somehow, it just doesn't sit well with me when believers chit-chat back and forth with each other in tongues, and I wonder why none of the leaders have brought loving correction. Every once in a while, I feel myself not so much a charismatic, if this is what it means to be a charismatic.

Thankfully, (or not thankfully) one of the girls on our team got hit with a sudden need to use a toilet. RIGHT THEN. So we stopped and were able to walk around. I was the first off the bus, camera out & ready.

As I meandered a little farther than what I was supposed to, I saw:

- Several (very typical in this area, I've seen) swami-looking guys with baskets with, yes, cobras inside of them.

- Gurus sat contorting their bodies until they looked like backwards Ken dolls with their legs wrapped around the back of their heads.

- One man with a shaved head, no eyebrows, and a long white beard pounded nails through his ears and shoved curved spikes through his cheeks. There was barely any blood. He had a crowd.

- A very fat Indian (a rarity here) was taking food offered by eager villagers, blessing it and taking a small portions for himself. He "blessed" the food this by patting his head and bare belly with the it. It made me feel icky.

-A younger guy, very skinny, had strings and a bucket attached to hooks pierced through his lips. In the bucket there was a little water and a lot of eels or long fish. His lips were stretched LONG, and no, he didn't look happy. Every time he blew a kiss at the bucket, one of the black, long fishes would pop straight out of the water and "kiss" his stretched out lips. Then, he'd spit out what looked like a baby black fish into the water. That made me feel ickier.

- The only woman there, a rotund Buddha-esque looking woman with an abnormally large red dot dark dot on her forehead, was shrieking like a banshee. In between shrieks, she frowned, collected vegetables from people with various deformities standing in line. Then she shrieked again and....GOBBLED UP THE RAW VEGETABLES....PRACTICALLY INHALING THEM....THEN BURPED THEM UP IN what looked like DEEP FRIED NUGGETS into small brass pots. I immediately gagged, and everyone around me including the Indians were gagging, too, some even spitting into the dusty earth to alleviate their nausea. I nearly lost it when she sprinkled some yellow powder into the pots, and offered a pot to whoever left the appropriate fee in a larger brass pot. Gosh darn it, I don't know what they did with the pots (and the contents) they hurriedly scampered away with. This made me feel ickiest of all.

Well, we didn't get to do any ministry there since our time was so short, but I wish we could have a prayer booth or something set up there next time. People would listen! Next time, I'll ask that we get in on opportunities like that.

I certainly appreciated this glimpse into the culture. Something I'll never forget. Wacky. Wild. India.