monkish living?

It's odd. I keep thinking that maybe it should be different, but there must be a reason. I feel like we exist in a monastery - set apart from a world so hurting. Still a part of me truly believes that monks have it wrong: that though we are to not be of the world, we do need to be in the world. But here, perched up on a hill in Northern India, tucked away in our office and in the sleeping quarters and such, what are we doing? The idea of going to the mountains (when the office was first established) was to have a retreat away from the plains, from the traffic and noise and hustle, to have sanity to do what we are gifted and called to do as design professionals, and as a less traumatic culture shock for us newbies. But that sets us apart, by design, from the people - except when we go out for project trips or holiday.

I really felt this strongly a couple of days ago when Matt, our family missionary (who actually used to work for S.O.S. in Memphis), David (returning intern & our UK representative), and I went over to another nearby hilltop to Woodstock school for a meeting between Bible study leaders. Woodstock has a prestiges reputation as a university prepatory school with an American based curriculum. Both Matt and David, last semester, had become involved in leading the 9th grade girls' Bible study. So after being asked (by several individuals) if I would be interested in helping out as a female voice and presence, I agreed to see what happens. Anyway ... when arriving to the school, I had the immediate impression of an enormous monastic complex. The student body seems wonderfully diverse, but the school sets itself apart from the villagers that surround it. It seemed very inward focused. It is an expensive boarding school, so everything occurs on campus. Is this not like eMi? I sleep in the adjoining room to the office. If I did not want to, I would not have to ever walk outside. We have a kitchen and cooks and even our food is delivered to the pantry directly.

I suppose I need to take comfort in the fact that we do all go outside, and down away from our small shelter. We go to church; we go to small groups; we go to the bazaars; we visit Indian friends. But there is still much difference between the poor in Mussoorie and the impoverished in the plains. Sometimes I simply forget that I am even in India.

As a side note: Friday morning, Matt and I went back to Woodstock for the girls' Bible study. We had 12 girls ... for a 6:30am breakfast, followed by the discussion! For those non-familiar to the intensity of that statement, allow me to assist. The sun rises shortly after 7am here right now. And for the cold: well, our kitchen actually serves as a walk-in refrigerator, literally. Tap water freezes if you look at it wrongly. So for 15-ish year olds, to remove themselves out of warm beds to walk to Bible study in the dark and cold, this is huge! And we had a great discussion on the cost of discipleship - which, I was informed, is very different here, in an overwhelmingly non-Christian environment, than in the States, where our enemy is not our neighbors but ourselves. So praise God.

So (I guess as a second side note), it is now after 2am here, and I am not as young as I once was. The stars are amazing out here - so crisp and so many ... much like being in west Texas, actually. I really wanted to get a picture of God's display, playing with my camera's shutter speed and such, but I felt rushed and generally scared. The monkeys can be very dangerous at night, especially towards females (why?). Earlier this week, I guess I seemed to approach a baby monkey and made one alpha monkey not happy ... which got me quite light on my feet trying to get away as it came after me. Last story for tonight; my contacts are dry. Good night, and good afternoon to my friends on the other side of the world.