VI. The Prayers Go Up: CMC Ludhiana III

On Retreat

Not a day goes by that a student does not come to me and ask me to pray for them. They are just beginning a course of education here at the college hospital which will be their journey for life. Many have made a commitment to work in an outlying area for two years as soon as they graduate. Many will emigrate, especially to the United States and Canada. Rev Stanley says there is a great exodus of Indian physicians, that India is the single greatest provider of doctors in the world. Some will stay and serve their own people. All of them are on the cusp of something massive in their lives. What they ask me to pray about, however, is that God would direct them to greater faith and give them guidance in how to become better followers of Jesus. How humbling.

Is it a western thing or simply a universal plight to not notice that one has stopped being a youth? To try to cling to whatever chic, slim, radiant, muscular, sharp, fast, sexy that one can recall ever possessing? I am an elder here. I am twice everybody's age. I am "Mam", someone to respect and listen to, to ask to pray for you. At home, I feel the loss of the things of the past but I can't quite put my finger on the gain of these gifts of maturity that are a given here in India.

It is a cool day with the threat of rain when we and 80 students board the college bus, headed on a "retreat" to Chandigarh, a nearby city. It is a time for student recreation together and to get to know this state a bit better, as many come from far away. The singing begins as soon as the bus lumbers out of the driveway. It is the boys who begin, sitting together in a clump in a large front 'cabin' at the front with the driver. They are belting in Punjabi, with good humour and male energy. The young women, seated together and many 3 to a seat so all aisles are taken up with an extra set of legs, start up their own songs – in Hindi. The road is full of honking and passing vehicles, conversations bursting loudly all around me; the voices are multilingual stereo to my ears.

The BoysSing a Punjabi song – a short clip

In Chandigarh, our family leads a short time of singing with the group in the Jeevan Jyoti Church who are hosting us and feeding us lunch, and I take the time to describe Canada, taking steps across the floor, marking province to province, and saying one thing about each. We lead them in "My Paddle's Keen and Bright" - the most popular suggestion from Facebook friends when I asked for their votes on what Canadiana to bring on this trip. 

David plays the chairs, Nicole solid percussion, Pj chording expertly

In response, the group shares a Punjabi song and then a Hindi song with us. I ask Roomi and Shikha if they will sing it again for me when we are in a quieter place, so that we can really hear it. It is beautiful and simple enough that I believe we can learn it.

The Girls Sing a Hindi Song "Stuti Aradhna" 

- with words written somewhat phonetically. Hint: Let Roomi and Shikha be your song-leaders in worship this Sunday by playing this clip. Put your e-mail address in a note in the Comments below if you would like the LCD projection of the words, transliteration and translation.

Fuse insulators become art at Nek Chand's world famous Rock Garden in Chandigarh

As we begin a visit to the famous Chandigarh Rock Garden, the rain begins to fall. A chilly shower that soaks our various sweaters and camises and jeans (on days off, students dress western). 

Mosaic Path

Spot 3 Jonsson-Goods

It fills the ground along the labyrinth of art through which we walk. The Rock Garden is an ongoing creation of Nek Chand, who began secretly creating beauty out of broken and discarded items in the 50's in an old gorge (a recyclist's dream art exhibit!), and since he was discovered, has been recognised locally, nationally and internationally for his innovative artwork. 

We trace our way around puddles on stone mosaic ground, walk alongside walls of patterned rock or multiple porcelain fuse plates, into a courtyard with sculpted waterfall, past a sentry of tile. The rain falls on it all. Not one student has a raincoat on. "There is no custom of wearing them," says Rev Stanley; he gives umbrellas away.

The morning of our departure from Ludhiana CMC, I feel a strong mixture of gratitude for this extraordinary hospitality and regret: one week is clearly not enough. We have only just fallen into a kind of routine with the college, only just become confident in finding our way around, only just noticed that some staff and students have become special friends, only just begun to savour the similarities and differences in our liturgical cultures. I can only hope that the loss of that first week of Ludhiana time (with our visa delay) can have the effect of heightening the conviction, on both parts, that we must return. 

Mrs Renuka and Rev Stanley stand with us as our driver, Mr Singh, expertly ties our belongings to the roof rack of his cab, for the long drive to Dharmshala. We do not leave until he – a faithful Sikh - has had me pray for our journey.


Dear Friends,

We continue to inch nearer our goal of covering our flight costs To, From and Within India and ask you to consider donating to our efforts with any amount, small or large. If we can reach our goal of $15,000, we are keen to fundraise for some musical instruments to schools that we visit!

Donate to the Jonsson-Goods' Flights of Song