The best beginning in Likabali

We have been staying at the edge of Assam, in the border town of Likabali, (technically within Aranachal Pradesh) for almost a week now.  There has been so much to assimilate in this very unfamiliar place that writing has not come to me.  Additionally, I have been responsible to hours of teaching to prepare for and deliver, and we have been seeking to encourage and learn.  Now, after a week, with the teaching I came to do now past, I am ready to face the challenge of sharing this experience with you.  I want you to know how amazing the people are, the place is, the experience is.  How amazing and humbling it is to be here with my family, and connect with my larger spiritual family.

There is no clear beginning, but walking out of the doors of the airport in Dibrugarh is as good as any (although the adventures of getting on the flight out of Delhi are a story as well).  In faith, we tell the eager taxi drivers we have a ride coming - as we scan over their heads for the one familiar face we know in 2000 mile radius.  In a time like this, you find yourself pushing back the thought, "What do we do if he isn't here?"  A few minutes later relief comes as you see the familiar walk of a foriegn friend coming across the parking lot.  We are not alone...

And we were less alone than we knew.  Pastor Steward informed us that his army officer friend was coming to meet us at the airport as well.  You roll with what comes.  Minutes later a small 4x4 arrives with a plackard on the front indicating a commander is in the vehicle.  A well built man in aviator sunglasses and business casual attire steps out of the passanger side.  We are introduced to Ashish, told he just arrived from Delhi as well and will help give us a ride back to Steward's home.  Before we knew which way the breeze was blowing; Jashton and Tobiah were in the 4x4 with Ashish and his driver, and the rest of us were loaded in Steward's mini-mini van.  On our way....

We saw little of Dibrugarh as we headed out of town down reasonable quality two lane roads like you would find in any rural area of America.  But it was clear we were not in America.  We were in Assam - famous for its tea.  And that is exactly what we saw in the flat land we drove past - tea fields.  That's what tea bushes look like - who knew?

Then, after an hour or two of driving we were no longer on a paved road.  The developing world ritual of rolling up and rolling down the windows of your vehicle began.  Paving does a wonderful job of controlling dust.  Without it, every passing vehicle is another cloud of dust seeking to get anywhere that dust hasn't yet arrived.  The dirt roads were result of road work, actually bridge work, actually bridge construction - that is far from complete even though it began 20 years ago.  When complete, the bridge will be the longest in all of India - but it isn't done yet, so we bomb along rutted, silted roads through the flood planes of the river we must cross.

Then we come to the "village" temporary shelters on the current banks of the river.  This time of the year the water is low, and it is only a 30 minute ferry ride.  Other times it can be three times as long.   It was here we learned benefit number two of Ashish.  As a commander in the Indian army, a ferry was waiting for him, left as soon as both vehicles were on board, and we were served water, tea and cookies, and coke before we made it to the other side.  (I'll let the photos describe these hand built wooden ferries)

Guess which one is Ashish...

After a total journey of close to four hours, through farm land, trading centers and small towns, the flat plains of the river valley turned upwards, turned green, and minutes later we turned into the property of Steward and Nyapu.  Our home for this week is perched on the foot hills of the Himalayan mountains.  No, you cannot see any mountains, but we are on the edge of new terrain - looking out over the flat and barren, surrounded by the rugged and green - plams, bamboo, trees and plants of every variety burst from the ground here in the forest of Likabali.

the final stretch before the muntains begin

And this was just our first few hours in the new and wonderful place.