She counted five girls rummaging through the dump. The skeletal girl in the tattered blue and white print dress pulled a can from the trash and ate the leftover contents in two bites.
Julie felt the berries coming, but quenched the vomiting at the last minute. That is just grotesque. Uch! Unless the Lord rains berries from the sky, I guess I better buy some food. I don’t want to do “nothing” and get thrown into utter darkness, whatever that means.
She remembered a small grocery store she’d seen yesterday and retraced her steps. There are a lot of stray dogs snoozing on the side of the road trying to avoid this beastly heat. They’re so skinny. I wonder if they’re pets?
A young boy grabbed her arm and thrust a small flower at her. She yanked her arm free and tried to walk around him but he blocked her forward movement. “Eat, eat.” He moved his arm from his belly to his mouth. “Eat, please.” With the other hand he repeatedly tried to get her to take the flower.
If I give him something, maybe he’ll leave me alone. She pulled out her wallet and was suddenly surrounded by eight more children all talking, begging, and grabbing. She held the wallet high and with the other hand slipped her purse strap over her head. Then she twisted and shoved her way through the grabbing crowd. They followed her down the sidewalk to the market area until one of the vendors ran them off.
The sidewalk was overflowing with vendors and customers. She took a deep breath and plunged into the crowd. She resented people bumping her in this sea of sultry humanity.
The market was bustling and colorful. Some of these primitive “shops” were just three “walls” of hinged particle board on the sidewalk with wares hanging from the wood. A chai stall stood next to a tobacco stall.
“One cigarette, one rupee,” crooned the vendor. Men gathered round smoking. The stench of tobacco mixed with body odor, coconut oiled hair, the fish baskets carried by women, powder and traditional perfumes, and the smells wafting from the vendors’ grills turned her stomach. That smells awful. How does anyone ever get used to this atrocious stench?
A woman with a cloth spread in front of her was selling leis and gajras, flowers strung together and worn in women’s hair. At the next cart, Julie recognized bananas, grapes, oranges, and apples, along with many fruits and vegetables that were unfamiliar to her.
There was cooked and raw meat. The sight of several small blue gill-looking fish that had been deep-fried whole—eyes and all—caused her to turn away. She moved to the next cart and came face to face with several plucked, whole chickens hanging by their necks.
“I think I’m getting a migraine.” She hurried to the vendor selling colorful flowers to try to tear the last images from her mind. I’d really just like a nice piece of salmon with lemon.
She felt a tap on her thigh and turned to see an elderly man with no teeth sitting on the sidewalk. He was wrapped in what looked like a loincloth, exposing his shriveled, crippled legs. He held up a tin pot to Julie. She gasped and took a few steps backward bumping into a vendor and causing him to drop a plate of chicken on the ground.
He whirled around. “Sixty rupees, sixty rupees!” He grabbed for her but she stepped aside, then turned and ran through the crowd. “Sorry, sorry,” she called over her shoulder.
In the midst of these temporary vendors was a primitive grocery store with refrigeration. Inside were beautifully colored fruits and vegetables, gunnysacks with their tops rolled down brimming with legumes, rice, and grains. One long section of shelving lined the store’s wall. Glass jars with silver lids in row after row displayed exotically colored spices, but Julie was oblivious to the beauty around her.
She walked the aisles looking for something that wasn’t in a can and didn’t need to be heated. Finally she settled on prepared sandwiches. She couldn’t tell exactly what they were, maybe egg or tuna salad, maybe not. She also bought small bottles of juice, apples, and six small pieces of individually wrapped candies or “sweets,” as the cashier called them. The cashier spoke a little English, and Julie was able to learn the words for girls only—kali ladicl.
She located a small patch of grass and slathered a large amount of hand sanitizer all the way up her arms. She cautiously sniffed the sandwich, then touched her tongue to the filling. Cucumber and heavy on the onions. Palatable, but definitely not very enjoyable. I wanted some meat. A skinny dog ambled toward her, and she tossed the sandwich. Before the dog could get it, an elderly man scooped it up and devoured it, then begged for more. She slapped his hand as he grabbed at her sack. “Leave me alone!”
She returned to the store to find something tastier. After she had eaten, she walked to the dump and stood across the street.
Thank goodness the wind is blowing the other way. I can’t take that awful smell.
She yelled for girls only, “kali ladicl,” and motioned, “follow me.” At first no one moved, so she held up a sandwich. Then everyone, including the boys, charged across the street, all shouting at once, pushing and trying to grab the sack and her purse. The boy with the scar grabbed at her arm, but Julie was too fast.
After the berry experience, she wasn’t going to make the same mistake. She yelled, “kali ladicl!” and pushed her way out of the group. When a boy came close, she turned her shoulder and shoved him away. The girls also grabbed at the sack and her purse. After a long scuffle, the boys reluctantly left, one by one. The boy with the scar on his chin stopped to yell and shake his fist, before trotting down the street.
She held the sack high over her head and slapped several hands, as she put her finger to her mouth to hush the girls. Finally, most calmed down, and she motioned them to follow her to a small patch of grass where she sat and motioned for them to do the same. They sat, but not still. When she held out the first sandwich, they were on their feet again, grabbing and reaching for the sack.
“Get back,” she slapped the grabbing hands. “Everyone sit down,” she yelled as she motioned to them by flailing her arms. After several frustrating minutes, the girls calmed down to the point where Julie could pass out the sandwiches without being mobbed.
Most gobbled them immediately and threw their wrappers on the ground. Several girls hid their sandwiches and tried to pretend that they hadn’t received one. Julie had intended to pass out all the sandwiches and juice, sanitize their hands, say a prayer, and all eat together, but she realized how unrealistic that was with starving children. She took a deep breath; I’ll never be able to do this. They’re like wild animals. I know dogs that behave better.
Julie could see the tops of their greasy, dirty heads. One of the girls scratched and Julie caught a glimpse of small white eggs. Ugggh. Head lice? Keep away from me! She scrunched up her face and forced herself to look away.
There was one sandwich and juice left. I know I didn’t miscount. Standing at a distance watching was the little girl in the one-sleeved green dress with the scratched arm. When Julie looked at her, she immediately looked away. Julie stood and took a step toward her and she backed away. Fine, what do I do now?
The girl wearing a man’s t-shirt and a big frown motioned for Julie to hand her the food and pointed that she would take it to the little girl. When she received it she ran in the opposite direction.
“Stop. Wait. You can’t do that!” She stomped her foot. “Unbelievable. I can’t trust anyone; they’re all savages!”
Julie felt her intestines churning. Probably those berries. She opened her sack, and when the girls saw the sweets they let out a cry and mobbed her again. They refused to be seated. Three of the girls grabbed all the sweets and immediately ate them.
“No, no, you were supposed to share.” They threw their wrappers on the ground.
“No, pick them up,” Julie bent down and grabbed a candy and sandwich wrapper. They all followed her lead and handed wrappers to her hoping anything they did would bring a reward. She didn’t realize that they would do whatever was required to get what they needed to survive—and they needed a lot. She had been concerned about manners. Manners? They were fighting for their lives!
Trash was strewn everywhere Julie looked. Why did I even bother?
When the girls saw Julie’s sack was empty, they all ran back to the dump. That’s gratitude for you. She went off in search of a bathroom. I need to find a gas station.
Stores and gas stations don’t provide public toilets in India. The whole outdoors was the bathroom; people even defecated in public, as Julie was about to find out. Desperate to avoid soiling herself, and having no place to clean up, she ducked inside an alley. Julie grabbed several tissues out of her green bag, laid it beside her and squatted. I’ve never had such a bad case of diarrhea. She wrapped her arms around her abdomen and moaned. Will I ever be finished?
A short figure darted from out of the shadows. A blue and yellow blur snatched her purse and exited the alley. There was nothing Julie could do. It was over as quickly as it began. She didn’t even cry out, not wanting to call attention to herself at that moment. After several more uncomfortable minutes, with her intestines still roiling, she finally finished, wiped with the tissues and after a brief hesitation decided to throw them down. She marched down the street determined to find a short boy with her favorite green designer purse.
Great, Lord, is this why You brought me here, to give me the worst case of diarrhea in the history of the world and to have my purse stolen? Can’t You go easy on me? She felt for her bag to retrieve her dictionary. Great, just great. Tears welled in her eyes. I don’t even have a passport, a hotel, a ticket home, and now, no money. I can’t even believe this. She flung her arms out in frustration. I guess I’d better try and find a police station.
Don’t file a report. I’ll return your purse.
“If it was all the same to You, I wish it hadn’t been stolen.”
Julie, this is about you building up your faith muscle. It’s very weak. You need to believe I can work this for good.1 Pray and ask Me to return your purse.
“You know I need it; just bring it back.” She stomped her foot and exhaled a long, pained breath.
You need to ask. Obedience is crucial in this situation. You need to depend on Me for everything.
Julie was near her breaking point. Through clenched teeth she choked out, “Return my purse, amen.” Turning curtly she walked down the street as if she could leave the Lord’s presence behind.
I’d planned to buy a sheet and pillow, more hand sanitizer, some lotions and some snacks. I guess that won’t happen now. No TV, cell phone, computer. What’s there to do? I can’t buy anything but I’m not going back to “bed” until almost dark. Maybe a store will have air-conditioning.
The first shop had touristy knickknacks—intricately beaded patchwork bags, journals, stationery, colorful ceramic statues big and small, linens and beautiful patchwork quilts, but no air-conditioning. Next was the same grocery store she’d been in earlier.
She smelled a wonderful smell and stepped onto the street where a vendor was selling Tandoori kebab, a spicy chicken dish. I’m really hungry. The vendor also had roti, unleavened flat bread. It looks so good. The vendor plopped a piece of chicken and bread on a paper plate and handed it toward her.
“Fifteen rupees, only fifteen rupees.” She shook her head and moved on.
I’d give anything for an iced coffee and a cranberry orange scone. Or a roasted vegetable panini with a caramel brulée and a maple oat pecan muffin. Arrrg! Why isn’t there a Starbucks® and why don’t I have my gift card?
The next store was full of wooden furniture, mostly functional daily pieces, but toward the back there were some items that caught her eye. She saw several things that she’d like to buy and mentally placed the furniture in her home, rearranging rooms to accommodate it.
In the very back of the store was a tri-fold wooden screen. It must be six feet tall. She rubbed her hand over the intricate carving and the inlaid mother of pearl. It’s not Victorian, but it is exquisite. The craftsmanship is amazing. It would look so good in Michael’s office. The price tag was marked 35,000 rupees. How much is that? I wonder what shipping costs? Then she snapped back to reality. Quit it, Julie, you’re not in New York. You’re in India with no money and no prospects of getting any.
It was getting dark, and she wanted to get back to her place beside the bushes before all those homeless people came out. There were lights on at the house, but the curtains were closed. She felt her heart thumping as she reached for the metal latch. She breathed a sigh of relief as it opened. She crawled on her hands and knees between the house and the bushes. The smell of a crushed berry on the ground brought back bad memories.
“Uggh, my intestines are still churning!” She flicked the berry away and tried to make her head comfortable on her bent arm. Last night my soft leather purse kept my face out of the dirt.
She was aggravated, more than aggravated, at the little thief who stole it. I’d like to wring his neck. Now I have no pillow, toothbrush, no money, nothing— not even a breath mint. Unable to get comfortable lying on her own arm and unwilling to sleep with the side of her face in the dirt, she rolled on her back.
Her stomach growled—an unfamiliar sensation. At home, at the first sign of hunger, or even boredom, she was at the fridge for a meal or snack. Tears ran down the side of her face and into her ear.
The Lord whispered gently, Julie, over a billion people go to bed hungry every night.2
“Well, I have no prospects of breakfast either, now that I know the effect the berries have on me.”
Don’t you remember? I asked you to trust Me?
“Just call me ‘little faith.’ I’m sure that purse, the money, and everything else is long gone. What am I going to eat for breakfast?”
What are our orphans going to eat for breakfast? What are you going to feed them?
“Me? Maybe You can show up with some fishes and bread.3 You’re good with those.” The conversation was over.
Julie lay silently cursing this weird Alice in Wonderland adventure she was trapped in. She longed for all the comforts of home that she had completely taken for granted. Now a blanket and a pillow seemed like an unattainable luxury. Air-conditioning even more so. This blistering heat is relentless. I perspire constantly. How will I ever get to sleep? And I was supposed to be home today. After reviewing her list of grievances, she fell asleep around 3 A.M.
Julie dreamed she was shopping in New York and had caught the train back home. As it pulled into the station, Michael and Logan were waiting. They embraced on the platform.
“I can’t wait to show you what I bought.” Julie unloaded each bag and showed Michael the contents.
“I know I was supposed to be shopping for work,” she said as she held up a plastic garment bag, “but this was marked way down to $200. I just couldn’t resist.” She pulled the bag off to reveal a black beaded evening gown with a handkerchief hem and V-shaped neckline.
“See,” she said holding it up to her. “Whenever I move the whole dress sparkles. Isn’t it lovely?”
“It’ll look great on you. Red Lobster® here we come,” said Michael. Julie didn’t answer. She was going through the next sack. After showing off shoes, two suits, three dresses, and a pair of jeans. She handed Michael a wrapped package.
“What’s this?”
“It’s for your office. Open it.”
“Wow. Nice.” he rubbed his hand over the elaborately carved wall hanging with inlaid mother of pearl.
“Whoever did this was quite a talented craftsman.”
“Do you like it, really?”
“Love it.”
“Me too. It was made in India. Two hundred dollars, but I think it’s worth it, don’t you?” Just as Michael was ready to answer, Julie woke up.
The illusion of being back in her comfortable world was slowly replaced by the horrendous taste in her mouth, along with the reality that she was lying on dirt with a stiff back. She looked at her watch—8 A.M.
What are all those horrid noises? This cacophony of abrasive sounds—honking horns—it never ends. Those rumbling trucks and those constantly chirping birds. How can they be so happy? How can they even breathe in this humidity? It’s too early to be this hot.
“Good morning, God,” Julie said sarcastically. She was bitterly disappointed that being back home was only a dream. Being stuck in India now was twice as depressing. Her stomach rumbled, and she longed to eat some of the berries just to make her hunger go away, but she didn’t dare.