Winds of the Himalaya – Part 9 – Coffee, Tea, and Reverie

Reminiscings from the Roof of the World

Last Leg of the First Round

March 14-15, Tuesday – Wednesday. Since there was no shower in the tea house Holly, Vivian, and I were wakened by the delivery to our room of a basin of hot water. It was wonderfully refreshing to wash our faces and freshen up a bit. At breakfast we asked about the lady for whose stomach problem we had prayed last night and were glad to hear that she was feeling well.

Midmorning we three walked over to a neighboring tea house to visit M with whom Vivian had connected on her trip last July. We had been told that she left the Faith and now was critical of Christians. Vivian shared with me that her husband was strongly opposed to followers of Jesus and that he frequently drank and beat M. When we arrived we seated ourselves at an outdoor table and savored the warm, morning sun. M immediately recognized Vivian and brought us tea. She sat down with us but seemed uncomfortable. We talked for a few minutes and then she had to take care of customers. On her return M brought us postcards as gifts. She then seemed more open to conversation and shared that she had overheard our previous night’s worship time. Vivian had prayed with her last July because she didn’t have children and M now told us that she would be walking to Pokhara to see a doctor for this problem. When she asked us to pray for her tonight at the church in Banthanti we asked if we could pray quietly before we left. Eyes darting she nervously said no because her husband and another relative (who had been a believer but because of persecution no longer followed Jesus) were there.

All this time a table of three young Europeans — a girl with dread locks, a tall, blond guy, and another girl — were watching and appeared to be talking about us. Just before lunch the European guy came over to our tea house dining area and asked to speak with me alone. I walked to a table across the dining room and we sat on a bench looking out over the trail and village. He introduced himself as Nicolas from Norway. Although he spoke in a controlled manner he was obviously quite agitated as he asked me why I was here “ruining their culture” by telling them about a Western God, and that instead we should be giving humanitarian aid. I told him that we were, in a small way, distributing health and medical items and quickly reminded him that Jesus was Asian, not Western. Nicolas conceded that Jesus was indeed Asian and a fifteen minute discussion followed revealing that he had a bit of Bible knowledge. He divulged that his god was the universe and his belief that anything that is loving is from the “universe god” and is therefore good. Then he asked if he could silently pray to the universe for me. My first thought was, “YIKES!” My second thought was, “My God is the Almighty. This man cannot harm me.” So I agreed that he could pray silently for me (and I silently prayed for protection) if he then would allow me to pray audibly to Jesus for him. I don’t remember exactly what I prayed but I’m sure that I would have prayed blessing over him and asked that God would reveal Himself to Nicolas and open his heart to Truth. And then he left, still agitated and perhaps frustrated with me.

After lunch we walked downhill to Banthanti (meaning a rest house in the forest) and settled into Hotel Trekking, the tea house across the way from the only church on this circuit. Banthanti is a small village of Gurung and Magar peoples, wedged between high walls carved out by the nearby river. There were a number of Christians in this area including the owners of this tea house. One huge surprise was awaiting us there — a hot shower which was in a tiny outhouse-sized building constructed beside the path.

In the afternoon we went out prayer-walking and once again saw faces on a mountainside across the river from the trail. We were discussing our discernment of a spirit of shamanism and witchcraft as well as darkness and depression when an older man passed us. He looked us over and appeared immensely unhappy that we were there. It seemed odd in a land of such abundant hospitality and friendliness. “Perhaps,” we thought, “he is the shaman.” And then as we were returning to the tea house we passed him again; he was still unfriendly, clearly disturbed by our presence.

After dinner we attended a gathering at the church with about twenty local people. After a time of singing Vivian told her story. Then I shared my story and spoke from Isaiah 54. More time of worship and prayer followed. While I was speaking I noticed that two of our Nepali team members, Bhim and Puchhanga, were beaming, literally glowing with joy. I had never seen anything like it before. What a blessing these three guys, so full of God, traveling with us were!

Wednesday morning we had tea and prayed with the pastor’s wife on our way out of town. It was to be a six-hour trek, downhill all the way, and then only a taxi ride back to Pokhara where we had a “real” shower and clean clothes waiting in our baggage stored at the hotel. And awaiting us for dinner was a treat that I had not imagined in my wildest dreams — steak! I was craving meat and savored every morsel as Bob Marley serenaded us with Everything’s Gonna Be Alright.