Going on the YAV/YAGM Tour - Don't Hate

Honestly, I had been dreading Easter. Most churches here hold early morning, day-long Good Friday services, which are supposed to include fasting. Hours of chanting in a language I can't understand, on an empty stomach, did not exactly sound pleasant. Easter, I was sure, could hold nothing better. But I got lucky. Instead of the usual 5 A.M. to 1 P.M. Good Friday service, I was treated to a speedy 9 A.M. to 11 A.M. service - the length of a normal church service here! Easter service was equally short. During Good Friday service, I was prodded out of my day-dream state when I heard the priest say my name. "Nothing bad, Cammy, don't worry," he apologized from the pulpit. He was describing a conversation I had had with him the week before. We had talked broadly about how I felt at Mandiram - I had said that I loved being here and loved the people here. "We are all family," one priest had said. "This is your home for this year, and this is your family." The priest was recounting this conversation, reminding all of us that we were all brothers and sisters; that even me, a woman from halfway across the world, could count the Mandiram residents as my family. I felt very loved (and slightly sheepish for having dreaded the whole church service in the first place).

This Saturday, I am leaving with my fellow volunteers to go on a tour of India. We'll be hitting up Varanasi, Delhi, Rajastan, spending some time in the Himalayas, and lounging on the beaches of Goa. I'm not telling you this to make you jealous (hehe) but to explain my upcoming month-long absence.

See you in May!