I’m on my way to Kathmandu–again!

November 7th-From Denver Int’l to Newark Liberty Int’l to Delhi, on to Kathmandu

Thank you, loyal friends for coming back to my blog. I haven’t written anything new for this blog in nearly two months. Hummm. I’ve felt monstrously guilty–but I didn’t have a whole lot to share with you. But now–I do.

On Saturday, November 7th, I boarded my UA Flight to Newark, where I would then board the long international flight to New Delhi, India. From there, on to Kathmandu. Join me vicariously through my posts–and I’ll keep updating every few days.

I’m going back to Kathmandu teach another group  of pastors from the curriculum, Healing the Wounds of Trauma, How the Church Can Help.  This is a powerful course, equipping the local pastors  and church leaders to better deal with all kinds of trauma they face, and to help their parishioners also.  I will be sharing from my experiences this next week, what I am learning, and how all this impacts me, personally and those whom I’m teaching.  So the next series of posts will be clips from my travel journal .  Hopefully you’ll find encouragement  and blessing as you read along.

Journal entry: November 8th, 2015–Delhi Airport, International Transit Lobby 9:45pm–after 14 1/2 hours flight.


Yeah! I made it safely to New Delhi—where I will spend the night. What a blessing and joy to be here–again.  I’m spending the night in the transit hotel, at the Indira Gandhi International Airport, and it is really nice.

As I wait in the transit area for my boarding pass for tomorrow, I can’t get over the mix of feelings bubbling up inside of me–joy (?) and feeling incredibly blessed.
Sights, sounds and smells assault my jet-numbed ears and nose. My body is tired, but my head alert–taking it all in–as I always do.

A Hindi love song

A Hindi love song croons away on the PA system. My eyes read English but I see Indian. Exotic is all around me. As  I wait for the attendant at the Transit Desk to call my name, I scribble out some words of a poem:

In India Now
My plane landed.. .
I’m in India now!
Blends with new. . .
Sights, sounds, smells greet me
as Culture seduces.” *

The Hindi song lures me with exotic sounds—the instruments playing produce sounds so different from our public music in Denver, Newark or Frankfurt.

The mixed odors of antiseptic and urine

The first smells that hit my nose are in the Women’s lavatory–odors of antiseptic cleaning materials and urine. Wet floors (but clean—after all this is the airport!) are also a reminder I am not in Denver any more. But the gentle, smiling bathroom attendant guides me to the toilet she’s just cleaned for me—and I’m all too eager to follow her. Smiling is nice.

Then as I pass through the duty free shops on the way to the hotel—that wonderful scent Estes Lauder, Dior and Gucci fills the air–spelling ‘expensive’.  I lift my nose and inhale. Smelling is free.

As I wait, I’m interrupted by the Jet Airways Desk: He apologize that its taking so long.  As I watch them, they are busy, but laughing with each other, and whenever they speak to a customer,  I notice that their manner becomes polite, professional and detached—but always polite. The hotel representative, who greeted me as I entered the transit lobby, is also polite, and eager to attend my needs, pulling my baggage for me, leading the way.

“Madam, please rest here while I take care of everything for you.” And I did—and he did!

His strongly accented English makes me smile as I remember how hard it is for my husband to understand the Indian English. Instinctively I tune my attentive ears up a notch or so, so that I understand everything he tells me.

Silly hits my jet-lagged brainwaves

As I wait, the love song I was hearing stops and now,  something very “Bollywood-ish” comes on.  I smile to myself again. I imagine the silliest thing! Wouldn’t it be fun if the people around me started dancing—and singing—and the whole quiet lobby  erupted into a dance scene, like one sees at the end of Indian movies!? I chided myself, smiling stupidly. ( My brain is definitely tired from my long day of flying) None-the less  my foot taps automatically—instinctively to the lively beat. And I feel happy. Then I remember—I love India—I love Nepal! And I love all the beautify and strangeness their culture has about it. This definitely different from our usual day in CO.

I tried—unsuccessfully to sketch a picture of the turbaned Punjabi ticket agent—swarthy and handsome in his dark work suit, pristine white shirt, and that jet black beard & brow. I guess my readers will have to use their imaginations to visualize  him.  A photo just wouldn’t  be proper—this time. (smile)
Well, I’m in my hotel room now, and I’m ready to close this journal for now, and bury myself in that clean white bed for next few hours.  (Yawn) I intend to sleep, pray and read my bible a little before turn out the light. It’s only 2:30am–in Delhi.”  [end of journal entry]

Tomorrow I head out for Kathmandu–again.

Thankful–from India,

Linda (Alias Mom, Grandma Linda, Madam and Sister Linda, Friend)
Thank you for stopping by my blog today. Hope you come again.

*Poem written By Linda K. Bridges @2015–A Shadorma Poem



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