Two weeks ago, I departed on a ministry trip with Pastor Raju to his home village of Neshwor. It's in the more 'tropical' area of west Nepal. Three other brothers from other international vineyards accompanied us: Alexander Venter and his son Zander, both from Johannesburg, South Africa; and Brian Gardner from Melbourne, Australia. As we travelled the mountain roads, we wondered if we would arrive safely. Halfway there, we came upon 2 accidents, both involving transport trucks that had been totalled. The accidents had us praying for our safety. These accidents weren't even the worst. 5 km before our arrival, we stopped at a roadside cafe. We found out that the road ahead was closed. A transport had struck and killed a pedestrian. We were told that we had to walk the rest of the way up the mountain road to Neshwor. In mid-day heat in the mountains, this didn't excite us.
Raju came to our rescue by finding a ride in an old land rover. The driver told us we were to descend to the old river road. On arrival in the valley, he followed a somewhat weather-beaten path that soon ended in the river. But he didn't stop at the river's edge. He crawled slowly into the river following what I hoped was a continuation of the road. The current was strong and, at mid-point, it pushed at the side of the land rover. The vehicle seemed to heave downstream. During the crossing, I caught myself alternating between 2 thoughts: "This is such a rush" and "We're going to die." Having water gush up through a rust hole in the floor boards did not help the situation. We had to endure these crossings 3 more times. Within 2 hours, we arrived at a small village at the base of the mountain. I asked Raju if this were it. He said, "No, we must climb 1 mile up the mountain." It proved a difficult climb with a combination of humid heat, steep rocky grade and a 45-pound pack. Within an hour we arrived at a somewhat level area, sweat soaked, overheated, but feeling victorious over the accomplished trek. Fifteen minutes later we found ourselves being warmly greeted by Raju's parents (his father was the village leader) and Raju's brother Rebat. An evening meal was served along with chia (tea). Shortly after we were shown to our open air sleeping accommodations and fell into a somewhat restful sleep, (I won't mention the nightly mosquito attacks).
Our days were consumed with ministry to villagers who stopped by to say hello to Raju's parents but were surprised to see western Christians staying there. Most of the villagers are Hindu. So we were surprised when they asked us for prayer for healing. Some sad stories came from these ministry times. Many of the village women who's husband's were away in the British Gorkha, Nepal, or India armies shared of husbands who remarried or who didn't return home when their time was completed. This often led to poverty for these families. Sad as this was the divorced Christian women were always more content and offered a ray of hope to those Hindu women whose husbands didn't return. (Posted by Ken.)
Raju came to our rescue by finding a ride in an old land rover. The driver told us we were to descend to the old river road. On arrival in the valley, he followed a somewhat weather-beaten path that soon ended in the river. But he didn't stop at the river's edge. He crawled slowly into the river following what I hoped was a continuation of the road. The current was strong and, at mid-point, it pushed at the side of the land rover. The vehicle seemed to heave downstream. During the crossing, I caught myself alternating between 2 thoughts: "This is such a rush" and "We're going to die." Having water gush up through a rust hole in the floor boards did not help the situation. We had to endure these crossings 3 more times. Within 2 hours, we arrived at a small village at the base of the mountain. I asked Raju if this were it. He said, "No, we must climb 1 mile up the mountain." It proved a difficult climb with a combination of humid heat, steep rocky grade and a 45-pound pack. Within an hour we arrived at a somewhat level area, sweat soaked, overheated, but feeling victorious over the accomplished trek. Fifteen minutes later we found ourselves being warmly greeted by Raju's parents (his father was the village leader) and Raju's brother Rebat. An evening meal was served along with chia (tea). Shortly after we were shown to our open air sleeping accommodations and fell into a somewhat restful sleep, (I won't mention the nightly mosquito attacks).
Our days were consumed with ministry to villagers who stopped by to say hello to Raju's parents but were surprised to see western Christians staying there. Most of the villagers are Hindu. So we were surprised when they asked us for prayer for healing. Some sad stories came from these ministry times. Many of the village women who's husband's were away in the British Gorkha, Nepal, or India armies shared of husbands who remarried or who didn't return home when their time was completed. This often led to poverty for these families. Sad as this was the divorced Christian women were always more content and offered a ray of hope to those Hindu women whose husbands didn't return. (Posted by Ken.)
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