David's first letter from Nepal

I haven't seen the little yellow idol yet - but I've seen plenty of others! Belfast might be renowned for having a church on every corner but this place has an idol or a little temple in every street. Beside where I'm staying is a small temple with a selection of the gods plastered in red 'puja' powder (puja simply means 'worship'). Across the way is a hostel in which a number of Hindu priests are living and behind us is a little lean too shack under the cover of which the priests perform their ritual washing every morning and prepare offerings for the day. The action kicks off at 6 every morning so there's not much need of an alarm clock.

The whole of this society is permeated by Hinduism or, not least because of the growing numbers of Tibetan refugees in Kathmandu, Buddhism. Not far from here is the Tibetan refugee camp and flying above the buildings are the prayer flags carrying the spiritual aspirations of the people off with the wind. So whether you're walking the street, driving down the road or viewing the skyline religion is everywhere.

Talking about driving down the road brings me to one of the other immediate and obvious differences of life here - the driving is manic. It seems as if the Nepalese have said 'give us your motors and bikes but keep your silly traffic rules and regulations'. Busses, lorries, smelly motorized rickshaws, tuk-tuks (tiny three wheeler mini cabs that seat up to six people but carry as many as can cling on) and motorbikes (thousands of them), not to mentions push bikes, dogs and the odd cow, compete for every available space in constant surge of traffic. Somehow or other it all works. You can get from A to B ok but only by virtue of some miraculous, mysterious thing that's going on in the ether. If it were possible to shut out the noise what you would witness would be the most amazing piece of mass choreography imaginable. Vehicles of all sizes and descriptions dodge and dive past one another. Gliding through impossibly small gaps and spaces they somehow manage to avoid and weave around the human beings searching for another few clear square feet of tarmac as they inch their way across the road at right angles to the surging traffic.

Just the other day I was in a little white taxi travelling round the Kathmandu ring road. As we made our way up one of the hills I saw things I had never seen before. I saw my whole life pass in front of me in a few milliseconds. That was because I saw beside me on my left a huge lorry labouring up the hill, which we were struggling to overtake, and out the front window I saw coming towards us downhill three white minivans. On a dual carriage way there would be nothing particularly striking or disturbing about the situation - but this wasn't a dual carriage way indeed it wasn't any kind of carriage way made to accommodate a dirty great lorry thee white minivans and a little white taxi. Yet somehow, unknown to me, somehow in the mysterious and magical dance of the traffic of Kathmandu a dirty great lorry, three white minivans and a little white taxi carried on their way as if there was never any conflict of interests or physical impossibilities to prevent them.

Much of my time this week has been spent with people from INF and UMN. In the course of the week I've listened to stories of trauma and triumph. I've met people whose experience has been fairly straightforward but I've met those who have gone through loneliness, illness, fear and uncertainty as they have sought to respond to God's call on their lives to work in the remote and sometimes inhospitable regions of this beautiful place. I've listened as they've testified to the grace and mercy of God that has protected and sustained them through what seemed impossible situations. In these stories I have seen something else this week. I've seen again that more wonderful than the mysterious traffic dance of Kathmandu is the merciful grace of God that choreographs our lives through impossible situations. Sometimes our lives appear to be the impossibility of a dirty great lorry, three white minivans and a little white taxi racing towards one another running out of space and out of road. Yet somehow, in his grace and mercy, the 'Lord of the dance' moves and reorganizes the traffic of our lives to lead us on to his purpose. As Paul puts it '…we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them'. So be encouraged and commit the journey of this incoming week to God.

As you hear this I'll be on my way to visit the Boones in Pokhara - seven hours on the bus! Happy days!

David

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