COMMUTING TO COLOMBO... (These pictures were actually taken by Dave, when he, Paul, & Tucker went to Kandy, but they'll give you an idea of the story that follows.)

Colombo train station, fairly empty.

Passengers like to hang off the train... or hang their heads, arms, etc. out the windows.

Paul, thrilled to be squished... Tucker, sweating, just a little. I believe it was at this time that Paul dropped the quote: "I haven't been THIS close to some of my girlfriends."

Optimal traveling position...

Today Mark Edwards (my Sri Lankan colleague and supervisor) and I had the opportunity to ride the 5:59 am “business crowd” train, to attend a meeting in Colombo.

In order to take the 5:59am train from Hikkaduwa to Colombo, we would need a tuk-tuk (taxi) at 5:30am. Which meant making specific arrangements, as tuk-tuks do not run that early in Hikkaduwa. So, we found a driver. I spoke to him in English – he promised it was no problem, he lives 2 houses down from us, and he would be there to pick me up... No problem. Mark spoke to him in Sinhala, and he assured us: No problem. Mark said, “Great. What’s your phone number?” (just in case) He would pick me up, then we would pick up Mark, then to the train station. No problem.

5:40am: No tuk-tuk driver. I call his mobile phone. No answer. I wait 30 seconds (patience is, after all, one of my greatest virtues). I call again. He turned his phone off. I look up and down the street. No tuk-tuks.

I go back into the house and wake up Adam and explain the situation. We go pick up Mark (in the team truck), and he drops us off for the train.

We make it in time, and we buy our 77 cent tickets. We wait expectantly for the train. I watch, as people are streaming in – the “business people,” professionally dressed and ready for the office. As I watch people filing into the train station, I notice a sense of urgency: now they are running to certain ends of the platform. This is quite fascinating to me – the fact that Sri Lankan people are running, as their typical gait is very slow, deliberate, never in a rush. You know how in the Bible, things that are repeated twice are being especially emphasized or highlighted? Well, verily, verily, I say unto you – the Sri Lankans were running. And, equally noteworthy, there was not yet a train in sight. So I look at Mark and ask, “Where are they running?” He laughingly indicates that it’s time for us to join them. We are now running, apparently jockeying for position, for the train that is not yet here. But it quickly approaches and then men start trampling women, small children, and the elderly in order to get a good spot (aka, a “seat”) on the train.

We make it, and Mark is excited that we find a seat. Two bench seats face each other, and each bench seat would comfortably seat 2 Americans – or would likely seat 4-5 Sri Lankans.

I should explain here that when I first arrived in Sri Lanka, in an effort to be culturally sensitive, I asked Chris, “How do Sri Lankans feel about personal space?” His reply: “They love it… They love other people’s personal space, and they love to be in it.” This is of course very true – and apparently never truer than when on the 5:59 train.

So, I am now seated in between a Sri Lankan man that I don’t know, who is leaning against the open window, and Mark… and across from 3 people. I am (barely) able to maintain my let’s-not-touch-each-other buffer zone, and I have a seat (yea!) for the 2 hour ride.

Fifteen minutes later, the train stops.

As we are pulling into the station, there is another train stopped there, and more business people are whistling and ambushing our train with even more urgency than when we first boarded the train. People from our train lean out of the windows and whistle back. People on the platform start throwing their bags in through the windows. Mark explains that the other train has broken down, that all these people are also going to Colombo to work, and they will now be on our train. Had I been standing, at this point, I believe I would have assumed the defensive “boxing out” stance that I learned in Jr. High basketball. However, I was seated and already squished, so I just braced for impact.

So, 2 more people join the bench seat across from me. And I now have a stranger’s knee in between my knees and on the immediate either side of my knees. One more man joins our bench seat. I am now shoulder-to-shoulder and hip-to-hip with a complete stranger and with my colleague/supervisor… and sweating. It’s obvious that Mark is feeling squashed and is trying to respect my space, but is being pushed into me. The Sri Lankan man on my left is leaning left against the window, so I lean left as well. Trying not to touch him too much, but I’ve long since given up on the 2 inch buffer zone. Then 2 more people come and stand IN BETWEEN our seats. I look up at the pair of seats in front of us, where there are 4 on each bench seat, with 5 people standing in between the seats, and I’m really thankful to be where I am. One man reaches down and moves Mark’s knee so that he can straddle Mark’s leg and the leg of the woman sitting directly opposite Mark. This man’s trunk is all of 3 inches from her face…

Somehow my involuntary facial expressions kicked in at this point (I think my eyes widened and eyebrows lifted), and everyone in our immediate vicinity – which was about 10 people – laughed at me, very amused.

Then the train started moving. This is not a streamlined metro system. It’s a Sri Lankan train – maybe the first one ever built. So, now, we are all rocking/jerking side to side, with an occasional forward lurch. And I am trying SO HARD not to be completely all over the people near me. So, I am leaning left with my torso, while the western hemisphere of my rear end is bearing all of my weight in an effort to keep me from just smashing right into Mr. Window Man (who is now asleep). And my shoulders are curved so far inwards that a good shove from either direction, and I think my sternum might snap and then my shoulders would be touching. Meanwhile, all the people within eyesight of me (about 30-40) are smiling at me, because they think it’s GREAT that a white foreign girl is on the train. Trying to look as excited as possible to be on the train, with feigned cultural ease and comfort, I smile back.

Then we make another stop. Mark now has 2 men straddling his right leg. (What personal space?) The man on the end of our seat has his face planted in a woman’s chest region (I can only hope he is her husband). I feel violated just looking around – but every body else is about as happy as a hog in mud. And, at this point (this is my favorite part), someone pulled out a 15” x 20” cross-stitching that has been framed, which was passed around the whole car, for everyone to admire. I have no feeling in half of my rear, and my lower back is throbbing; I can’t quite get my arm up…Oh, eye contact, and here comes the frame, they’re smiling, “Ohhh, yes, that’s nice. Very nice.” Smile back. Pass it to Mark, OK – he’s asleep.

I also liked the 3 people in our immediate area who established a rotation system. They stay at each spot for about 10 minutes, then rotate: 1) seated; 2) standing, straddling the seated person & Mark’s leg; then 3) standing in front of the window. It’s somewhat annoying, but the ingenuity of the system is equally impressive, and I’m sure it prevents extreme discomfort – what a great idea.

It’s been about an hour now, with a remaining 45 minutes to travel in this manner. I am completely torn between utter amusement with the whole situation and utter discomfort in my body. I begin contemplating my options. One, the only immediate option for increased personal space would be directly under the seat. Or, I could scoop up Mr. Sleeping Beauty on my left, slide over and set him on my lap (since he’s about 1/3 my size) – and we might all be more comfortable. Option 3 is to quit trying to contort my body / maintain some sense of American personal space and dignity, and just fully embrace the culture. (Man my back is killing me! Do I even have a left leg? Oh, they’re smiling. Smile back! Other people have someone on their laps…or Maybe I could just join the rotation... What would happen if I just stood up?)

I finally decided I was not ready to completely relinquish the last shred of my personal space. I mean, I am all about embracing the culture… “when in Rome, do as the Romans do” and the whole nine yards, but I believe this is where I draw the line. I have observed from the street, train passengers standing on the stairs in the doorway, hanging outside the train, and had wondered about that. It now makes a world of sense: looks like they get a pretty good breeze and a nice view.

And so we arrived at our destination. A typical day’s commute for the average business person. No worse for the wear… just drenched in sweat. Ready for an 8 hour committee meeting.

Sometimes, honestly, these experiences can be pretty trying (Oh, this is so uncomfortable and so not what I am used to!); other times, they make us so intensely aware that we are, in fact, living in Sri Lanka, not America, that they actually become a reality check and a source of gratitude: Oh yeah, I live in Sri Lanka and I love it. And it is different. That’s part of what makes it Sri Lanka. If everything was American-ish, then it sure might be comfortable or familiar, but we would be missing out on an opportunity to see God’s creativity and ingenuity in another culture. So, we live in Sri Lanka, where it’s different – which can be annoying – and where the concept of invasion of personal space is taken to a completely different level. In a very weird/backwards way, I guess I conclude: Yea for sweaty space invasion and smelly trains!

Thanksgiving Dinner... What an absolutely fantastic celebration of not only God’s goodness, faithfulness, and provision – but also of new relationships, diversity, and living examples of the Lord’s creative genius and His intricate weaving of our lives.
We have enjoyed sweet times with family members and friends, especially around the holidays – and while I will not say that this surmounts those… it was definitely a highlight for me.
A few things that made this gathering extra special were: 1) The hunt to track down recipes online, searching specifically for recipes that had ingredients that would be likely to be found in-country. 2) The team-wide participation in preparation – it was quite the joint effort.
A few weeks early: we sought out non-perishables, to see what would be available, and to make adjustments to the menu/recipes as necessary. A week beforehand: we did a major scavenger hunt at our two favorite “supermarkets” in Colombo; I had the list, the boys would go search the store over for a particular item (or 5) and bring back their findings. And they REALLY were such good sports… it may have something to do with food being a great motivator for them – I’m not sure. =) A few days before: we bought all the fresh spices and ground, grated, & chopped; baked the pumpkin in the oven & puréed it for the recipes that called for “canned pumpkin,” made pastry shells for pies (I really missed the ones that come packaged in two’s in the Frozen Foods section of Wal-Mart); and confirmed our order for 12 kilo’s of turkey from the Hikkaduwa Turkey Farm. Adam did a last-ditch search in Galle for the elusive items we had not yet found: cornmeal, a few spices, and the second rack for the oven…. then Adam bought a hacksaw. And sawed 1 inch off the length of a wire rack, so that it would fit in the oven & we would now have 2 racks. And Adam made a pumpkin roll (for dessert). The day before: Phillis and I went to the local Hikkaduwa market and bought the fresh vegetables and picked up Tom and Talulla Turkey (who were dead AND plucked – what a relief!!). The night before: Phillis and I wrestled the meat off of the hugest (raw) turkey – because we realized he would fit in neither the pressure cooker nor the roasting pan. This was a real bonding experience for us and quite an adventure. We did a lot of sweating in that kitchen! And when the boys came in to check our progress, they did not stay around long (aparently the scene of us hacking the turkey apart was a bit gory). The turkey & the turkey meat went into the “brine” overnight.
The day of: Chris & Martina went to Galle to rent a projector, and to buy bread, more vegetables, and a meat thermometer. Adam, Tucker, & Dave arranged furniture, set the table, chopped vegetables, washed dishes, poured Mindy a Diet Coke, and assembled the green bean casserole. Dave selected flowers from the yard and created a festive arrangement. 3) The excitement and anticipation of the Sri Lankans – and their absolute curiosity as to WHAT this celebration is about, and WHAT we would be eating and WHAT it would taste like. There was quite a little buz about what to expect! 4) The experience of having such a completely diverse group of people around the family dinner table together: Sri Lankan, Buddhist, American, Irish, Hindu, Catholic, and Christian, English-speakers, Sinhala-speakers, Tamil accents, & Texas accents, from all walks of life… who genuinely refer to one another as “family” (and mean it in a positive sense, as a term of endearment). It wasn’t “diverse” just for the sake of being “diverse” because it is the cultural or politically correct thing to do. We were together celebrating the holiday with our family. And we had to have an interpreter. I loved that. 5) While we were eating, everyone shared something they were thankful for. What a precious time. Talk about a life-changer! 6) Ohio State beat Michigan – and we got to watch it on a big screen. Ahhhh college football, how we’ve missed it! 6b) The Sri Lankans, watching the boys watch football. 7) The food really did come together well. The Americans seemed delighted that it actually tasted like American Thanksgiving food. And the Sri Lankans seemed delighted that it was different than rice and curry - and still edible. Except for some mashed potatoes and dessert, there were NO leftovers. 8) God is faithful. And I love to see how He takes our little efforts and does so much more through the situation than we can ask or imagine.

I love the passage in 2 Samuel, Chapter 24, where King David is asked by God to build an altar at a specific place. As the story unfolds, the owner of the property insists on giving the land to David – but he persists on buying the land, saying, “No, I insist on paying you for it. I will not sacrifice to the Lord my God burnt offerings that cost me nothing.” Approaching this Thanksgiving, I anticipated the planning and preparation being quite overwhelming… even maddening. But the Lord was faithful to remind me of the concept of bringing Him a sacrifice of praise. Meaning that it would cost something (not only in terms of finances, but in terms of sweat, effort, time, frustrations, language difficulties, misunderstandings, etc.) What a challenge! And what better opportunity – than at Thanksgiving? What was pretty astonishing to me, was how much my perspective on the process was changed when I set my heart on viewing problems and annoyances as a “sacrifice of praise.” And what further amazed me, was to feel like the Lord really received that praise offering from my heart and used it to bless others.

Here are some of the pictures...

Phillis & Mindy. Phillis lives with us Monday - Friday and is the Preserver Of Sanity & Team Unity (she cooks and cleans - making it possible to work and live and recreate with one another without having anger in our hearts because someone tracked mud through the house or refuses to wash their dishes, put away their clothes, etc.). She was worth her weight in gold during preparation for Thanksgiving. She is SUPER resourceful & is teaching us her tricks - like using the metallic bag from your cereal box for transporting fish from the fish market, so you don't get blood everywhere. (Uhh, cool!)

The Kitchen, where we bonded.

The kitchen, part 2.

Chris referred to the extras, like Dave's flower arrangement, as "Getting our game face on!"

Dinner served! Tucker, Mark, & Chamani in the food line. Chamani was real curious what this food would taste like... she participated in the preparation though, and was pretty excited about the sweet potatoes with brown sugar, butter, cinnamon, and "snow" (marshmallows) on top.

Thanksgiving!

Here we are... bottom left corner, moving clockwise around the table: Sisila, Chris, Mark, Chamani, Major Wijesiri's Daughter, Raj, Tucker, Benjamin, (Dave's empty chair, he's taking the photo), Martina, Phillis, Adam, Mindy, Scott.

Late-comers: Mr. & Mrs. Major Wijesiri, and their son.

LtoR: Chris, Martina, & Tucker watching OSU & eating dessert. (Selections were apple pie, pecan pie, white chocolate cheesecake, pumpkin cheesecake & a pumpkin roll.)

Dave, watching OSU beat Michigan

LtoR: Chris, Tucker, & Adam - glued to the game. I really wish I had a picture of them yelling... the one below is the Sri Lankan's laughing at the guys, who were yelling and getting a little animated.

Chamani's brother (this was our first time to meet him & I am embarassed that I cannot remember his name. He drove 2 hours just because he wanted to see what American Thanksgiving was all about.), Mark & his wife Chamani, & Phillis.

Chamani & Mindy

Dave's flower arrangement, now accompanied by flowers from Martina & from Benjamin & Raj. It is a huge cultural practice that ANY time you go to someone's home for dinner, you bring a small gift. Common examples would be: sugar, tea, rice, powdered milk, or a sweet treat.

The Clean Up Committee: Tucker & Chris.