Pulga

This summer I traveled to  a little village in Northern India called Pulga. I was there to share stories with the Israeli travelers. You may ask why go to India to meet Israelis, but after the mandatory military service many Israelis travel. A popular spot is India, and a Kasol and the Parvati Valley are popular summer spots for druggies. So me and some friends went to one of those villages in that valley, Pulga.

We were all Jews who believed that Jesus is the Jewish Messiah. And this came up often since spirituality is a popular topic among these travelers.

Also Pulga is right next to a forest that is nicknamed “The Fairy Forest.” It is set off limits as the home of a Hindu God, but many travelers go do acid. And on these acid trips they see fairies, but oddly enough they all see the same fairies. I don’t trust these fairies.

While there I felt oppressed and I just wanted to curl up and stop existing. It was a brilliant place, but I did not want to tell people about my story and what God has done for me. I felt attacked. Yet by the end, we were friends with everyone there and everyone know who we were and what we believed. I still keep in touch with them on Facebook. I will say that even though I felt horrible, I was never crushed and the story of what God has done in my life was told.

But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. – 2 Corinthians 4:7-10 (NIV)