Jonathan's TB, My Pregnancy with Jenny, Bill's Hepatitis, and a Devastating Tornado: Tales from the Mountaintops and Valleys Below #6

What to expect? The unexpected! But always expect God's love and provision and Presence in each and every event and encounter. God's Word was and is the Strength and Provision for our daily lives and gave us what we needed to do His will. Here is some material from my journal.

A month into this latest village stay, in early April, both Jonathan and I became quite ill. We had to return to Kathmandu where I was admitted to the hospital with amoebic dysentery for IV treatment both for me and to help protect the baby I was now carrying--yea--Jenny is on the way!!! We celebrated this Easter, rejoicing in His victory over death.

The biggest challenge for me was my hospital roommate, a lovely Indian lady who could not stop coughing. I found it hard not to be irritable in the middle of the night when I was jittery from little sleep, listening to her cough and cough. On the last night, when she was having a horrid bout of coughing, instead of lying in bed wondering if it would end, I got up and poured her a glass of water. Amazingly, the cough stopped and some sleep was had.

This sacrifice was not done in perfection, because of my own irritable nature. But God is working and I know He will perfect that which He has begun.

As soon as I was home from the hospital, Jonathan got sick again with another bad cough and congestion. This time they did an x-ray and found he had TB covering five percent of his lungs (we were glad it was not more). So we began a year's treatment of six pills a days. Can you imagine giving your almost-two year old six tablets a day? We tried everything from smashing them with peanut butter, to mixing with his food. It seems that illness was a normal part of life for us and that we were learning how to do warfare and to have people back "home" praying for us. In each case, the Lord came and healed us. Again from the journal:

Once we were feeling better, we decided to try one last visit to the village before monsoon season was again upon us. On our arrival, we were told that 7 people had died in the last 4 days in our village. By that evening I had a fever of 103 and all the signs of severe dysentery and no way to get to a hospital for IVs. My greatest fear was losing our new little one in the womb, but the Lord met us and strengthened me and so we continued our stay, even though it was several days before I could get out of bed and work. Bill was amazing with no complaint. He is a true and humble servant.

But then I got worse again and Jonathan was not well either, so we had to return to Kathmandu. They immediately put us in the hospital. Jonathan had a strain of typhoid and bacillary dysentery. There was so much illness in this country and health provision is often limited to emergencies. We angrazi (foreigners), had better access to good health care.

Jonathan got better more quickly than I did and went home while I followed the doctor's orders to "hang loose and it will eventually get better." It turned out I also had tapeworms from walking and mushing through the mud, in sandals, near our village.

We had amazing doctors in Kathmandu. The United Mission to Nepal sponsored the best hospital in the country, with doctors coming from many different countries coming to serve  at Shanta Bhawan ("Peaceful Home") Hospital. This hospital is no longer operating, but what a blessing it was to have while we were there. My physician, Dr. Mary Eldridge, from England, was amazing, as you will learn in the blogs ahead. Dr. Nietchke, from Germany, was the children's pediatrician and a very wise woman.

I marvel as I look back at the journal records, and how our Father sustained us and strengthened us. We decided to try one last village stay before monsoon. I wrote, "God must have marvelous things planned for the Tharus cuz Satan is working so very hard."

So what next? I have never seen a "natural disaster" before, until our return to the village this time... The day before our return to the village, "Our village was hit by a violent hailstorm and tornado. The mango grove by our house was nearly demolished, tearing up 100 foot trees by their roots. 3 people were killed and crops were ruined, livestock killed, and houses destroyed. The roof on our house was torn off and ruined. The roof over Jon's room was the worst hit and had we been there he could have been killed. His mattress was torn all over from the hail (cement tiles from our roof had landed in his crib and torn it to shreds. If we'd been there, he could have easily been killed). They say the hailstones were 8-10 inches round. Our screens and windows were broken. The mayor of our area (the Pradhan Pansch) called it a "desolation and if it had lasted 5 minutes more there would now be no people in our whole area." I wanted to cry. but He was giving us another chance to trust the all-sufficiency of His grace. Yet it hurt to see so much sorrow among our people.

Kissan's extended family is below. He is in the white shirt.

Kissan's mom and sister are in their home cooking a meal for us. Tharu houses were normally very dark inside and often smoky.

After arranging for a new thatch roof for our house, and helping the villagers with their own repairs, Bill left with Ross, another Wycliffe team member, to help bring food and money to help in the famine in their village. Jon and I returned to Kathmandu by air. From my journal:

On the plane today, I heard Bill's voice call out my name, as if in urgent need. Very strange. Committed to Him. All things done well. When Bill returned, he was exhausted and yellow. It turned out he had a bad case of hepatitis. He spent two weeks in the hospital regaining his strength. I was glad he was OK and going to get better, but I was exhausted from caring for Jonathan on my own. Plus Sita, our house helper, wasn't able to come for several days. Back to washing clothes by hand, doing all the cooking and cleaning, and chasing Jonathan while pregnant with Jenny!

It was so good to have Bill home! But he also brought his Indian roommate home from the hospital to stay with us indefinitely. This became a real challenge as he worshiped evil spirits and seemed to be taking advantage of us. What to do? Forgive and learn to praise the One who loves each of us. And we learning the power of the NAME of Jesus.

But we had another lesson to learn also. I had a relative back home in the US who didn't believe that we were going through all the things we wrote about. She wrote a letter that reached our director criticizing us and our situation, saying that we shouldn't have asked my mom to send things we couldn't obtain in Nepal and we should be able to manage without this kind of help.

Our director was very supportive and knew the needs and difficulties we faced--he had 5 kids of his own! What we learned, besides more forgiveness, is that we had to be careful of what we wrote to people. Some wanted to know the whole truth. And some just wanted to know the good stuff. So we learned to focus more on the goodness of God in every situation in our group letters.

I hope you are seeing the goodness of God n this blog as I write--in the midst of all the hard stuff. It comes with a thankful heart. There are so many stories not included here, yet ones that have formed our character and helped conform us to the image of Jesus. We give Him thanks and praise.

Another "Typical" Day: March 8, 1972: Tales from the Mountain Tops and Valleys Below, #5

To give you an idea of what our life was like, and how much we needed the Lord's strength and help, I’m going to insert a part of my journal I just typed up called, “One Day in the Life of Bill, Dotty, and Jon amongst the Tharus: March 8, 1972". The original copy is below this and you get a cleaned up copy--43 years later!

"First, this day is not typical--but then no day is typical. Nothing was planned for this day but to get some language work hopefully done, and Jonathan watched. But even this was unsure, as we're never quite sure when Kissan will be turning up. Our primary goal for any day is to do the will of God and to rejoice in His love. We are learning to obey His Voice.

6:30 a.m. I awoke this morning at 5:30. My first thoughts were prayers and gratitudes for these people and the fact that Jesus, lived, suffered bled, died, rose and lives again for these very Tharus. They are His already.

Then I listened to the dawn awakening, It sounded much as though I were in the middle of an aviary with thousands of birds singing--and each a different song. It reminded me a bit of C.S. Lewis's story of creation in The Magician's Nephew. Absolutely lovely. Soon other sounds are added: the tireless sound of the water pump, the necessary chopping of wood, the crying of children and soon the shouts and talk of the village people...which brings me back to bed, my thoughts and the sounds from the next room:

"Mommy." (Intentional silence follows.)
"Mommy." (with a little more emphasis.)
"Mommy!" (this time with great impatience, as tho he were dying.)
"Yes, Jon."
"Mommy, nice slee." (No "p" yet). Ths means he wants to get up and make mischief. He also adds another word: "achi," which means he has a mess in his diapers and doesn't like it.

After some necessary frolicking, we are all up, dressed and about. I have no sooner come downstairs with Jon when I hear the familiar, "Boji," which is my name and means sister-in-law (Bill is their adopted brother). This is repeated several times and I soon discovered the village at our doorstep. Why? Because the village water pump is broken and Bill knows how to fix it. How do I know this? Because this has happened for the last three mornings. We hope they will get the mistiries (workmen) who will fix it once and for all. Anyway, Bill is outside trying to help and to explain.

Inside, our "milkmaid" has just delivered our fresh quart of buffalo milk, boiled and ready to drink. Somiya, our landlord's daughter and present house-help, is here watching Jon a bit until there is water to wash clothes. It is now 7 a.m. The day is well under way.

7:30 a.m. We just had another visit--this time Kissan and several friends who are all eagerly discussing our newly put-up bulletin board with all the pictures of our village friends. (Each time we take a picture of someone, we will give them one, and put on on the board.) Kissan also came to discuss hours, saying he could come at 9 like we wanted, but this would be difficult. So instead he will come at 11 with one of his sisters, and I will make the "final" check on the basic list of 1000 Tharu words for the phonology analysis. And then Kissan wanted to borrow my bicycle again. We've been giving bike lessons to him as well as to a few others. The problem now created is that our bike is out more than in. So this a.m. we are establishing a new policy--no bike riding unless an emergency, or a lesson.

8:30 a.m. This last hour has been a more or less chore hour. Bill's been fixing things such as electric lights--a real luxury for the tribe (we had a 300 watt generator that provided us and others light). Then there's the water filter, which needs cleaning and filling and was forgotten yesterday so there's no sterile water today. So we wait.

My tasks include cleaning up, getting Jon dressed and happy (when possible), getting the clothes ready for Somiya to wash in the pump that is now fixed (by Bill) outside, and now I hope to do all my baking for the day. This will hopefully include bread and some cookies.

Jon too is sick with a chest infection, with the worst cough he's ever had. We started him on penicillin last night, as his fever was back up. Even tho he is sick he remains active and almost impossible to keep track of! Bill has built him a sandbox in the back, but he would much rather be out chasing pigs, sheep, or buffalo, or begging for rice from somebody' else's dinner. Even so, we are thankful for his energy and curiosity--most of the time!

Meanwhile Bill is burying trash, hauling water, and Jon is crying because he's ready for a nap and won't admit it. And I must hang up clothes while Somiya prepares our a.m. daal bhaat meal. We've adjust out eating schedule to that of the Tharus and now we eat 2 meals a day: one at about 9:30 and the evening meal at 6:00. Our morning meal is Tharu style and the evening is American (like food with noodles or breads and meat) --as much as I can make it so. We've also begun eating as they do--with the fingers of the right hand. It may sound crude, but it does make the rice and vegetables taste better!

10:30 a.m. The last entry was two hours ago. During this time, Somiya did not make daal bhaat. Instead, her husband came (she was married a few weeks ago) and so she is supposed to leave for his village for 2 months. This was the first we knew. Her mother finished the clothes and I just hung them up. Making cookies never materialized, as neither did the time. Bill watched Jon. Then Tariya (Somiya's sister) came to prepare the meal which we are about to eat: rice and vegetables, which include unpealed potatoes cut up. I had trained Somiya to peel potatoes, but Tariya didn't know how to do this. There are so many little things that make a difference!

The next hour Jon will hopefully take a rest, and we will have some quiet time. Oops! Here come the mistiries--the carpenters. We never know. For two days now we haven't seen them. They should finish the work on this place, and our furniture within a week--if they come regularly.

12:00 noon: The last while has been spent in Job, Corinthians and with the dishes. Tariya washes them at the pump and then I rinse them with boiling water, dry them and put them away. I want to learn the fullness of Brother Laurence's experience--the continual practice and presence of God, and to be at prayer continually. He is my Teacher.

Bill has been resting and is now going to work with Kissan, while I write letters and take care of Jon when he wakes. I appreciate the rest, as the conclusion at hand is that I am pregnant again. Joy!

1:30: While Bill worked with Kissan, I stepped outside with notebook and pencil and was soon surrounded by 30 (I counted) women and children, some eater to teach their language, most eager to laugh at this stranger who tries to speak their kura (language). So we learned. Then Jon woke, and all of Kissan's family came and are now sitting here trying to elicit the English names for private parts. I'm trying to overcome my embarrassment, and to learn. There are at least 20 people inside our house right now, waiting for bits of knowledge. Bill is going into our bazaar town on errands, so Jon and I will play for the next hour or so. Somiya was here for a few minutes, appeared very sad, stole some curtain ties from the simple window curtains I had made, and left.

2:30: p.m A game of kickball in the back and more looks at the scrapbooks of Life in America, and the picture board of Tharu people. Kissan is so delighted with this picture display, that he would like me to make him one from the few picture we've given to him!

3:30: A rousing hour of bicycle teaching in the mango grove. They just don't get the hang of balance, and I'm worn out from holding them up.

If the carpenters weren't working inside, we could now go and rest by our favorite riverside sight--lots of green grass, a few trees, and a beautiful river. Maybe later. The next two hours will be mostly chores--folding clothes, getting supper ready (spaghetti with fresh bread) and getting Jon off to bed. The latter is usually the most difficult and time consuming.

I just saw Somiya inside a neighboring house and was planning to ask for my curtain ties back, but she was sobbing her heart out with dozens of other girls trying to console her. Going to live with your husband is quite a traumatic thing, since the marriages are often arranged when you are a baby, and you usually don't know the fellow; and the girls are 14-15 when they go to live with their husbands.

7:30: After supper the procession began to march Somiya off to her husband's house, where, I just learned she will spend the nights and return home for during the day hours (for two months this goes on). This way marriage is a gradual thing. I should mention Somiya didn't march off--she was carried off sobbing. She wouldn't budge. So her best friend carried her on her back to her new home, with the crowd of us tagging behind, and the husband leading the way. The crying is ritual; you have to be sad to leave your parents. Mom has to cry too. Sometimes of course it's also real.

When when we were just ready for a drink of coffee and coco, another dozen Tharus descended on our house, sat down on our kitchen floor, and talked for 1 1/2 hours--trying hard to teach us. I think they're attracted partly because of the electricity and partly because they're the teachers, and we the ignorant and needy.

The rest of the evening will hopefully be spent quietly--mostly sleeping and not listening to Jon's painful cough. he should soon be better. The day is at an end, and sleep is very welcome. It's been a good day, though tiring. We've learned much. God is very good to us."

Kissan and Bill hard at work:

Jonathan, Elephants, and Pillows and Christmas with the Trudingers: Tales from the Mountain Tops and Valleys Below, #4

Work continued on the house, slowly, and we were settling in. Jonathan loved it there. He had a natural charm and had fun leading the village kids all over, as seen below. What you don't see in this picture is the elephant that they were trying to catch. Elephants often went up and down our village path, from the King's Elephant Camp in to the local bazaar town. Sometimes they would stop to eat grass in our backyard. During this time Jonathan was a joy and comfort to us, and a connection with our new village friends.

He loved all the animals. In our front yard were ducks, chickens and a baby cow plus 3 buffalo. To the right were 7 cows and to the left a small herd of sheep, which Jonathan especially loved to run through. Then there were all the pigeons on our roof nesting and 2 new goats out front, soon to be slaughtered. There were always dogs, but they were never pets.

When the house was still incomplete, with no walls, wet floors, little privacy, I became discouraged and full of self-pity, but somehow confident that God would redeem it all. I wrote later that week that I knew people were praying for us. One night our landlord was having a big puja—worship feast—and we were told to lock our doors. That night even Sita slept upstairs with us in our small sleeping area. Even so, the puja party was so loud all night, we finally left and went down to Kissan’s house to sleep. II Timothy 2:10: “Therefore I endure all things for the elect’s sake, that they also may obtain the salvation which is in Christ Jesus with eternal glory.”

Meanwhile Bill continued daily language work with Kissan, and supervised the work on the house. Along with language work, I began to get to know the village women. Our heart was to share the joy of following Jesus with these who had never heard of Him. We knew it was not going to be an easy task.

One day we heard that the King Mahendra had died of a heart attack. His son Birendra would later be installed as the new king. All men shaved their heads and everyone mourned.

We finally were ready to leave for a rest in Kathmandu after almost two months of our first village stay, leaving many workmen still working on the house. Our landlord’s wife, who we later learned was more aggressive than most others, and the village kids have begun to beg for my shoes, Jon’s clothes, even Sita’s things.” And the Lord said to me, “These people are mine and I love them. They too were created for my glory.”

On our return, all of us were sick with various illnesses from amoeba to a liver abscess. Our bodies were taking a toll, and needed time to adjust to this new home environment. I wrote “How much must we protect ourselves? At all? I wish to know the reality of Paul’s words in II Cor. 4:8-10: “We are troubled on every side, yet not distressed; we are perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; cast down, but not destroyed; always bearing about in the body the dying of the Lord Jesus that the life of Jesus might be made manifest in our body.”

Pillows of Comfort from my journal:

"One night I awoke, very strangely wide awake. One by one all my fears came to me. This was followed by a vision where there was a large room and Jesus at the door. The room was full of pillows and Jesus said that these were the pillows of His love and comfort, and for every fear there was a pillow. So as each fear came to me, I took it and laid it on a pillow and left it there with Jesus. As soon as the fear was with Jesus, it was no longer a fear. And a great rest and joy filled me, and the verse, “Casting all your cares on Him, for He cares for you” came to my mind and heart with real poignancy."

After three weeks, we returned to the village. Workmen were STILL working on our house. We knew I needed help with washing clothes, and watching Jonathan, and doing language study. This was solved when both our landlord’s family and Kissan’s each wanted one of their teen daughters to work for us. They finally decided to take turns week by week.

This village stay has been a good one, with much language work done. The people have been great with gifts of food like squash, cabbage and bananas. Our director brought his family with 5 kids to stay with us for a few days, and of course go elephant riding."

We took more than one elephant ride in our years living there. We typically saw rhinos, deer, wild boar. Jonathan loved the "hati" most of all (Tharu & Nepali word for elephant). He still, and collects elephant items. We had many visitors over the years who came to see us ... and ride the elephants into the jungles of southern Nepal!

But more good things happened too. We lived next door to Ron and Sue Trudinger in downtown Kathmandu. The first Christmas we were there is remembered by Sue here, with a photo below:

"Christmas celebrated on the roof of the world in Kathmandu was certainly different. We collected the roast piglet on a spit from a nearby Chinese restaurant and, joined by our Wycliffe friends from next door, we ate this delicious fare on the small square roof top of our little concrete home. Ron read the scriptures as we crunched our way through the delicious crackling. However an event that really impacted me was when we walked the dark, dirty alleyways of this city singing of the love of Jesus and we were joined by some guests from the big hotel we passed. They spoke of their emptiness celebrating Christmas alone. They were in luxury and yet that was not enough – deep inside they longed for the fellowship that Christ created us to have one with the other. The carols we sang of Jesus reached out to them and they joined us for more singing and delicious freshly made cinnamon rolls at the American Embassy."

$5 Rent for Our Village Home with Cow Dung and Mud Floors and Walls: Tales from the Mountain Tops and Valleys Below #3

We spent our first summer in Kathmandu, Nepal, working hard learning to speak some of the Tharu language while becoming friends with Kissan and learning about his life and culture. It was hard for him because he had to leave his wife and baby in the village. Kissan's daughter Mina, pictured below, was the same age as Jonathan.

When the summer was over and the monsoon season came to an end, Bill and Kissan returned to the village. Bill went to arrange for permanent housing for us. He was able to rent the only brick structure in the village for $5 a month, though it needed much work which we were required to pay for. It was brick on the outside, yet to be completed with the typical cow dung and mud floors and walls. Plus it still was without a roof.

We also needed a clean source for water and Bill arranged to have dug the only village pump in town. This we willingly shared with the rest of the villagers, glad we could provide them with a healthier source of water too (Jenny likes the focus on clean water for all villagers as she is currently working on her masters in public health). We spent many hours around this pump...washing clothes and pumping drinking water, and talking with all the village women.

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The day before our scheduled flight to the village, Jonathan broke out with measles. Then there was so much rain that our flight to the village was almost cancelled. But in spite of these challenges, we were able to leave anyway. When God leads He provides. 

After a bumpy landing, we found a new friend who spoke English. He worked for USAID and was stationed in Bharatpur (our airstrip town), getting ready to leave the country. His wife and baby were already gone. He sold us all his baby furniture to use in our new village home. This meant Jonathan had a real crib and high chair. Here's a picture of Jonathan in his crib on one of our first night's there. His crib was right next to our sleeping bags (on top of a straw mattress on a string frame). Notice the mischievous smile on his face. :)

The first thing we had asked the Lord on our return was for our house to have a roof. We were thrilled and very thankful to the Lord when we saw the roof covering most of the house. 

Later we planned to have cement counters installed in the kitchen with shelves underneath. These would hold our kitchen supplies, but not keep out the mice and roaches. We had one kerosene burner to cook on and a fold up camp oven I could make bread in. There was no fridge so we needed to purchase fresh buffalo milk daily. We had all grown quite used to the taste of buffalo milk by now.

We also built an Indian style outhouse (no seat, just squatting down), with thatch walls that the village kids liked to peer through when we used it.

According to my journal, the first day there was wild: “Jon fell out of his crib on his head, I fell down the stairs and Bill pounded his thumb and finger and the rest of the house is definitely not finished. Plus we had a rat disaster of our stored things with much of our clothes chewed up. But, praise the Lord,the roof was on so we’re staying here…..The challenge now is the floor—mud and very wet. We walk sloshing around and Jon has a cold already.

"The first morning we were awakened by our landlady standing over our bed speaking loudly to us in Tharu. We thought we’d closed the doors which meant no entry. But we soon learned they could do what they wanted in and with the house—including taking things they liked. It was challenging due to language limitations and cultural expectations to navigate the fine line of privacy and friendship. 

“But the people are very friendly and helpful, especially all the children in and out of our house every day. It’s the custom to go in and out of each other's house. Once in our house I asked a boy whose house this was and he answered quite firmly that it was his--of course--everyone knew that! So we are learning culture as well as language.”