Hey Y'all,
So, this past Sunday, my family was supposed to go to our language teacher, Kavitha's, willage (also known as village for you people who are reading for the first time). The name of the willage is Baluvanahalli. (Try saying that 5 times fast, backwards, while standing on your head.) My father and I went, but my mother had to back out at the last minute. The reason behind Momma's absence, is because a friend of ours was having her first baby.
In spite of that, Dad and I proceeded to go to the willage. It should have taken a mere hour to drive there. But India had other plans. We forgot that Sunday was to be the last day of the Indian Air-Show at the Indian Air-Force base. Unfortunately, the base was on our way. Being as church was supposed to start around 11a.m., we left the house about 10 o'clock.
Even though we were close to an hour and a half late due to traffic, when we got there, the praise band was still in full swing. If you're an hour and a half late for church at First Bapty (FBC Lafayette), you'd walk in during the invitation.
The small church building consisted of 4 walls, a roof and a window. Because it was a traditional church, I had to dress in traditional Indian clothing. (There's a picture on the left.) Also, the men and women sat segregated. Men on the left, and women on the right.
Almost as soon as we got there, I was instructed to play the song that I had prepared with my mother, that now had to be turned into a solo. After I sang "House Of God Forever" by Jon Foreman, the congregation applauded. I noticed that while I was singing, their attentions were captured, but I'm not sure if that was because of my skin color or guitar and vocal ability. Soon afterwards, Dad gave his testimony and a sermon about Jesus being the Bread of Life, which my mother had prepared. Both the testimony and sermon were interpreted into Kannada, by Kavitha's husband, Murthy (a very popular name here) and the "organ" player (a cheesy-sounding synthesizer used to establish and keep the congregation in key but was thoroughly ignored).
Directly proceeding the sermon, the praise team started banging on their copper pots and tambourines, while the congregation started singing and the synthesizer convulsed in a Mozzarella-Parmesan-fashion.
After the church service, Dad and I went to Kavitha's house for lunch. We were served a tear-jerkingly, nose-dribblingly spicy chicken curry dish, with Roti (flat bread) and basmati rice. We also ate cucumbers snd onions which were doing the back-stroke in some curd-like substance, usually served at every meal for medicinal purposes to sooth the scorched tongues of poor, unsuspecting white children like myself. Not long afterwards, Dad and I hit the road.
Thanks for reading!
-Birdie
P.S.
Please vote on the poll to your left. Thanks ! :)
So, this past Sunday, my family was supposed to go to our language teacher, Kavitha's, willage (also known as village for you people who are reading for the first time). The name of the willage is Baluvanahalli. (Try saying that 5 times fast, backwards, while standing on your head.) My father and I went, but my mother had to back out at the last minute. The reason behind Momma's absence, is because a friend of ours was having her first baby.
In spite of that, Dad and I proceeded to go to the willage. It should have taken a mere hour to drive there. But India had other plans. We forgot that Sunday was to be the last day of the Indian Air-Show at the Indian Air-Force base. Unfortunately, the base was on our way. Being as church was supposed to start around 11a.m., we left the house about 10 o'clock.
Even though we were close to an hour and a half late due to traffic, when we got there, the praise band was still in full swing. If you're an hour and a half late for church at First Bapty (FBC Lafayette), you'd walk in during the invitation.
The small church building consisted of 4 walls, a roof and a window. Because it was a traditional church, I had to dress in traditional Indian clothing. (There's a picture on the left.) Also, the men and women sat segregated. Men on the left, and women on the right.
Almost as soon as we got there, I was instructed to play the song that I had prepared with my mother, that now had to be turned into a solo. After I sang "House Of God Forever" by Jon Foreman, the congregation applauded. I noticed that while I was singing, their attentions were captured, but I'm not sure if that was because of my skin color or guitar and vocal ability. Soon afterwards, Dad gave his testimony and a sermon about Jesus being the Bread of Life, which my mother had prepared. Both the testimony and sermon were interpreted into Kannada, by Kavitha's husband, Murthy (a very popular name here) and the "organ" player (a cheesy-sounding synthesizer used to establish and keep the congregation in key but was thoroughly ignored).
Directly proceeding the sermon, the praise team started banging on their copper pots and tambourines, while the congregation started singing and the synthesizer convulsed in a Mozzarella-Parmesan-fashion.
After the church service, Dad and I went to Kavitha's house for lunch. We were served a tear-jerkingly, nose-dribblingly spicy chicken curry dish, with Roti (flat bread) and basmati rice. We also ate cucumbers snd onions which were doing the back-stroke in some curd-like substance, usually served at every meal for medicinal purposes to sooth the scorched tongues of poor, unsuspecting white children like myself. Not long afterwards, Dad and I hit the road.
Thanks for reading!
-Birdie
P.S.
Please vote on the poll to your left. Thanks ! :)
