Last weekend we went to our fellow volunteer’s, Amrit, village outside of Delhi. The village is called Sikanderpur. Although Amrit “lives” in Canada, she will tell you that “her house” is in India. She travels to her family’s village at least once every three years. Her parents will stay in India for month at a time to be with family. Like Amrit and her family, 50% of the village is Sikh. Almost every family is involved with farming—wheat, rice and cotton sold locally.

The trip would prove to be the keystone of our Indian experience outside of the school. The story of the Bath family is an incredible journey. Her father, who we initially referred to as “Mr. Bath” but ultimately called “Uncle Ji” during our visit, fled India in the early ‘80s because work was difficult to find and Sikhs were discriminated against.

We will never forget the images of final approach to Amrit’s home last Friday evening. It was late and after five hours of traveling in a car, we bumped along a dirt road to her home, not sure what to expect. Outside of the gate of a large white house, we could see a tall, broad-shouldered man dressed in all white with a dark turban on his head, his arms crossed as if he was anxious. Mr. Bath had been calling periodically to make sure everyone was alright, see who was hungry and figuring out our time of arrival—such a “dad” move. When Amrit exclaimed “That’s my dad!” it signaled rush of emotion in the rest of car as well. Amrit was coming home to her wonderful family… and we missed ours.

Uncle Ji’s face is of someone who, despite experiencing great hardships, is not hardened beyond compassion by his experiences and has proven that hardships can produce a great love for others. After Uncle Ji left India, he was a refugee in 15 countries in seven years. After many countries and hardships, Uncle Ji arrived on the shores of Canada. It was in Canada that he founded a masonry business, married his wife (also a Sikh from India), brought over two of his brothers, built a family and created a life. In Canada, all 25 of Amrit’s family members live in one house. Almost every family member works for the stone mason business that Amrit’s father set up or the Specialty Chicken Restaurant they bought as a franchise (a little ironic since everyone in the family is vegetarian).

Uncle Ji’s oldest brother lives in the house in the village and runs the farm. Any success that they have, they share with each other. The success of the masonry business in Canada has allowed the family to substantially increase their farm holdings in India. The house was redesigned by Amrit’s father and expanded to his exact detail. Both families are now flourishing when just 20 years ago so much seemed uncertain.

Our visit included some remarkable experiences.

One was our tour of the village (just a couple of blocks of it). This ultimately meant going from house to house meeting the families that make up Amrit’s extended family, sitting in one of their living rooms, eating spiced fruit, peanuts, potato chips (they weren’t sure what we ate) and drinking Mountain Dew and Miranda (they weren’t sure what we drank) and mostly communicating through smiles and questions. Amrit said that we are some of the first westerners to visit her town so no one was really sure what to do with us.

One of the things Emily loved about our “tour” was the hugging. Emily received about 30 hugs from women of all ages, mostly all Amrit’s family. Honestly, each hug felt like one of her own aunts wrapping her up in their arms. Each hug reminded her of home, but was also a comfort because their willingness to hug a woman who appeared so pale to them and at least a foot taller than all of them. It began to feel like each of them knew Emily was homesick and so they hugged her harder and offered her more snacks.

We also loved the chai tea. They made it using buffalo milk. One word: INCREDIBLE. It felt like we drank it almost every three hours. Starbucks, Peete’s Coffee and Bongo Java—all need to get onboard the buffalo milk train. It is about 6% to 8% fat—the kind of milk Matt’s parents say they had growing up.

Another moment that we will never forget was walking through the family’s wheat fields. It was striking how much it felt like walking on the Shearon family farm in Grand Junction. The Baths took great pride in their land just like Matt’s family. Again, while walking alongside the fields, sipping chai at one of the worker’s houses and laughing with the Bath family made us ache for own families back in the States.

The food was wonderful. Amrit’s family kept the spice level low-to-moderate out of consideration for us. We feasted on okra, dal, tons of roti, paneer and peas, gulab jamun, sweet desserts and other dishes were too busy eating to take pictures of…sorry.

As you will see by the pictures, our experience in Sikanderpur was striking and unforgettable. It proved to us, once again, that the jewel of India, just like the jewel of home, is the people. Amrit’s family welcomed us with open arms and hearts. No language barrier or cultural custom could keep us from embracing them either. They treated us like family—unabashedly and without hesitation.

ERdJS and MWS