Remembering Siliguri

Tea gardens, mountain roads, unforgettable faces, and a journey that left a lasting mark on my heart.

In 2009, while working as an administrative assistant at my church in West Texas, I was given an unexpected opportunity to travel to India. Our church aided in supporting a missionary family living in Siliguri, a city in the northeast Indian state of West Bengal. I traveled with an amazing woman of faith, JoAnn Bridges,  and our mission was to – visit the missionary family, show them support and support some of the work they were doing there. 

Siliguri sits in the foothills of the Himalayas, surrounded by tea gardens. At the time of our visit, its population was about a half a million and it was definitely bustling (since then it has doubled in size). We also took an unforgettable, if mildly treacherous, drive up the Himalayas to Darjeeling to see the market AND YES, we had tea in a beautiful tea room.

I met incredible people as we continued our stay. I can close my eyes and still see their faces. I can still see the bougainvillea climbing to drape over fences and the colorful sarees moving through crowded spaces. I still remember spotting an elephant from the passenger window as we drove by. I laugh when I remember how we had to stop on the road waiting for a man to coax a cow out of the way. 

And I still think about one particular moment: sitting down with a basin to wash a woman’s feet, seeing the uncertainty on her face, and feeling my own cheeks flush as I struggled with how to make the moment feel more dignified and comfortable for both of us. 

My trip to Siliguri challenged the way I saw the world. Up until that point, I had traveled only to Western Europe and locations in America. And though the trip challenged me in so many ways, there’s something inside of me that longs to go again – to return with older eyes, a deeper humility, and a better understanding of how much there still is to learn.