A Final Jaimashi

After a long pause, as my weary, idealistic mind continued to wrestle with the need for rationalism, I heard my voice announce yes with finality into my cellphone. Yes, please book my tickets back to the United States.

That morning, the US State Department had simultaneously called for the "immediate return" for US citizens abroad while also issuing a Level 4 travel advisory warning against any international travel. The conflicting messages translated as a warning that if you do not return ASAP then you will risk being stranded outside the United States without assistance. At the same time, the Government of India declared that no international flights would be allowed out of the country on March 22nd. Due to these impending restrictions, I had a couple hours to decide whether I stay through the COVID-19 in my community in Siliguri or rejoin my family in the United States.

As soon as I hung up the phone, the weather outside shifted. The blue skies were replaced by a swelling cloud and the rumbling of thunder in the distance. Pabitra and I rushed upstairs to pull down all the clothes drying on the roof and we searched the darkened house for opened windows.

Not to be overly dramatic, but the timing of this storm scared me. Had I made the wrong decision? Was I running from where I needed to be? What was I afraid of? Should I stay and just figure this out? As I listened to the heavy rain and shredding of the sky, I felt like the whole universe knew that I was running away at the first sign of trouble and giving up three months more with all these people I had come to care about and love.

My host father joined me as I sat on the step outside my home. Looking out at the rain and the lightning, he calmly answered the unasked questions I had about this storm. He said that this is what you can expect from this season. One second, sunshine. The next, clouds and thunder. It is an unpredictable season.

And then he said that he had learned that I had decided to go home. And, as if he knew what I needed to hear, he told me that my decision to return to the United States was the right one and that it was completely understandable. So many people had said those same words to me, but no matter how many times from how many different people, I never truly believed that it was the right decision. But I believed him, and more importantly, his words reassured me that this storm was not my fault and neither was COVID-19. This truly was an unpredictable season and although it may not feel right and may feel scary, it is alright to leave Siliguri. He urged me to start getting ready and to make sure I get the recipes I needed from Auntie while I had time.

Due to the nationwide curfew that was called for Sunday, March 22nd, by God's grace our church service was moved to Saturday, March 21st - the morning before my flight back to the United States. Although a majority of the congregation was not in attendance due to the growing call for social distancing in India, a number of us still gathered for one more worship service before Little Flock Fellowship transitioned to online services. I was so grateful for the final opportunity to hear songs that had become familiar and listen to one last sermon in Hindi from my host father about how God remains in control. With two palms pressed together, I said my last Jaimashi to the many people that had welcomed me into their church for the last seven months and recorded their names in my heart for my prayers in the coming months.

It is easy to mourn for the three months more that I did not get with the Basumatas in Siliguri; all the work unfinished, the pork dishes not learned, the monopoly games not played, the people not met, and the adventures not taken. However, it is even easier to remember and be grateful for the seven months I was allowed to share in their lives. Each and every day, they encircled me with love, nourished me, made me laugh, and they talked with me in ways that prepared me to face the world outside. Uncle Biraj, Aunti Triti, Saurabh, Adarsh, Abishai, every other Basumata living next door, and my staff at WBVHA, thank you for welcoming me and showing me all there is to love about India. Mein aapko yaad karti hu aur ham phirmilenge.

I am currently with my parents and siblings in Vancouver, WA in quarantine, but I am watching the advancement of COVID-19 across India from afar and remembering all my people from WBVHA, Little Flock Fellowship and MCC.

Please join me in praying a prayer of protection around the citizens of India, a prayer of courage and strength for their healthcare workers, a prayer of wisdom and discernment for their leaders and decision-makers, a prayer for resilience for all those more vulnerable to the virus, and a prayer of peace for our world.