Matt W Cook

The Chicken Walla

How do ya buy chicken in Canada? Pretty simple, you go to Zehrs or No Frills and walk to the chicken section. You look at all the packages of chicken and select a size and cut you like. You pick it, you pay, you go home. Now, let’s look at the same operation in Pakistan.
First, you should try to use the same chicken walla every time you want some bird. This way he gets to know you so if you have any special requests it’s no problem. Also, because I get a ten rupee discount every time I go. Make sure you head out for the chicken early in the day, because that’s when you’ll get the best, freshest, least bug-ridden cuts. You sit down and the chicken walla’s stall, shoo the cat away and drink the chai he offers. Chat about the weather a bit, about school and Canada until he finally ashes how much bird yah want. He’ll then either grab a pre-killed bird from his rack or go get a fresh one and off it’s head while chanting “In the name of God the merciful, the compassionate”. With two or three deft movements he’ll behead, skin and clean the bird. You know he’s done it right when you see a headless, skinless, footloose, cutlass chicken still twitching on the scale as he weighs it out. Chop, chop, chop and into the bag it goes. Chicken it great when it was alive half an hour before you eat it. Meanwhile the guy at the vegetable stall next door keeps on interrupting to tell a complicated joke in Urdu, thankfully you can tell by his voice when the punch-line comes, so you laugh politely and get out of there.

It’s the little things that make the difference, eh?

Yesterday in my English class I asked the question “What is your biggest fear in life?” One man looked very serious and said, “My biggest fear is that when I die and see God He won’t forgive the big sins in my life.” I thought that was a very good, rational fear, eh? Almost all of the men in my English class are part of a special Islamic sect called Qadiani or Ahmediyya. Orthodox Muslims call them Kafrs, infidels. All Muslims believe that one day Jesus will return to judge the earth. The Qadianis believe that he has already returned in the form of another prophet just a few decades ago. The men tell me that their motto as Qadianis is “Love to all, hatred to none.” It’s difficult for these people in this country. You know, every government document or application includes a spot for religion. There are four main religions to choose from. Muslim, Christian, Hindu and Qadiani. If you choose Muslim you must also check a little box that says “I believe that the Qadianis are not Muslims and do not follow Islam.” or something to that effect. Pray for these people.

Before I go, I want to invite you all to ask some questions about this country, or about some of our experiences here. Is there anything about Pakistan or Pakistanis that you always wanted to know but were afraid to ask?

Cook out.

Sighing to himself the way his great-great-great grandmother taught him, and wincing at the pain of such an endeavour, Shan disloged his left arm from the tree, and set about finding a suitable oxygen snail. barbJohn and barbJohn jr. the 9th, who will now be referred to as the 9th, (except in the case of a constitutional document, wherby he will be called Johanne) were both sniffing at a strange rock, though the 9th was more sound then barbJohn in his form and technique. Shan ripped an especially juicy slug from the tree and placed it behind his left ear. It definitely was not as good as a snail in the eye, but for the moment it was enough to keep him going. Jumping down to the ground he wheezed his way over to where his companions knelt, like hunting dogs over their prey. A hush came over the gathering, and Shan had the overwhelming urge to burst out in “Kumbi-ya”. Suddenly everything started to grow dim, and cold. A faint whisper in the north-east began to grow louder. His eye twitched involuntarily….

The first thing that Barbjohn noticed was the incredible lack of. .breathing. .that was taking place, figuring this was due to a lack of ozone in the atmosphere, he took out his trusty garden snail and squished it into his eye. Now in pain, but readily breathing, barbjohn gazed around at the lucious greenery that dotted the arid, dry landscape. He did a kind of a skip-jump, and then a little hop, and then did a jig. .and then another skip-jump. Thus engaged, barbjohn’s sidekick johnbarb Jr. the 9th pushed his comrade over and procedeed to do a skip-jump, and then realizing his situation decided it was high time for a swift walk around the ol’ farmyard (this was what he affectionately referred to the new planet as.)His goal(s)were to conquer new lands, conquer old lands, breed new hamsters, and put all his stock shares in the square wheel and of course find someone who could dance the dance of cheese. Whilst pondering the situation he noticed a faint sound coming from the near-east direction. .

Pals and prayers

To all my buddies out in the Great White North, thanks. Out here, I miss my friends and family the most. I’ve gotten used to the dirt, the noise, the food and the heat, but I’ll never get used to leaving you wonderful folks behind. I’ll always remember the champanade nights and tea mornings, the wild road trips, the late nights at KLBC, the crazy games of Settlers, Andy Mack spaghetti (I remember it every time I pass the chili market), the church plays, choir trips, Curry Village, Pakistan meetings, Caedmon’s Call, ETS Conference, that crazy Corroda, the Armour Rd. house, and countless other times of fun and good fellowship. I know that before it’s all over there will be more times like that, just as memorable. I miss you guys, and I can’t wait to see you again.

And my dear family. I am blessed in having the greatest family I know. Mom, Dave, Stephen, Mike and Rob, you all rock my face off, come visit soon (and bring the Lord of the Rings DVDs and some coffee).

I’m re-reading The Godly Man’s Picture. In the section on prayer Watson makes the point that the Jewish people always had a morning and evening sacrifice. He makes the simple comment “Pray at least twice a day.” Sounds like good advice to me! So folks, get some sacrifices in order and have a morning and evening time of prayer, get a good habit formed. Go pray.

There should be some new photos up one of these days; I’ll let ya know when they finally get there.

Cook out.

اردو کام ہے

A Day in the Life of Matt

This morning I woke up, which is a good thing to do in the morning. I have a habit of sweeping the roof every morning. It’s pleasant to do it early before the sun and wind get going, and I find it wakes me up nicely. Right after sweeping I spent some time in devotion before the day starts. Ruth was picked up by the rickshaw walla at about 7:30, like every morning. As she was leaving I quickly got Joseph dressed, tossed an Ajrak over my shoulder and started the walk, with Joe, toward a lovely little chai khana (tea shop) about a kilometre away. I think I might make it a daily habit to visit this khana, the chai is wonderful and the people are very friendly. Also, I’ve taken about 8 cups of chai from this place over the last two days and haven’t paid a rupee! Today I met a new guy at the khana. I can’t remember his name. In fact I couldn’t remember it two seconds after he said it, it was long and Arabic. He’s a Bhutan man; most of his people group live up in the North-West Frontier Province or Afghanistan. He’s also a mullah for a nearby mosque, and a lovely man. Whenever you meet a stranger in Pakistan you can usually anticipate what questions are going to be asked. First you are asked your name, and then you are asked if you are American (to which I reply Nahi! Bilkul Nahi!, “No, absolutely not!”). The next question that inevitably comes is “Are you a Muslim?” I used to say that I was a Christian. But these days that word comes with far too much unwanted baggage attached. So I’ll teach you the handy Urdu phrase I use when asked about religion.

Meh Isa Al-Masih maanta hu (with a nasal sound at the end of Hu).
I follow Jesus Christ.

So today I said that again and the lovely mullah, with a gleam in his eye, started to talk about religion. Unfortunately, my Urdu is certainly lacking and he was talking far too fast, so I couldn’t pick up much of what he said. When he was about to leave he suggested that we head out to a small ‘suburb’ of our city called Josephabad and sit under a tree and talk about Islam. I said it would be fun, but my Urdu isn’t very good. He said that was no problem, he would talk and I could listen. I said we might do that later, although it would be fun to discuss religion under a tree in a place like Josephabad.

So I left the chai khana (after finishing my wonderful chai) and went on the hunt for chicken and vegetables. My buddy Mohammad had yet to open his chicken shop, but I noticed his buddy Mohammad walking around so I knew he would open it soon. I grabbed some veggies at a very good price (less than 50 cents for a half kilo of tomatoes, half kilo of onions and a bunch of cilantro, green chillies and garlic!), and headed to Muhammad’s shop. I found him just setting it up when I arrived, so I sat, chatted and drank some more chai. Chicken’s getting more expensive these days, almost $3.00 for a kilo. After the chai and chicken I kicked it home, but was stopped at the door of my house by the shopkeeper next door, who begged me to sit and (surprise) have some chai. So I sat and had some chai. It was lovely sitting there in his shop, looking out at the street and talking with the people walking around. Pakistan in the early morning is a refreshing, peaceful time. A wonderful way to start the day. By the time I got back inside it was only 9 o’clock and the whole day was still ahead of me.

This morning I’ll be busy preparing English lessons for this evening and I’ll write a few letters, Inshallah. This evening will be very busy with teaching English and learning Urdu. Usually all our work is done by 6:00 or 7:00 and the rest of the evening we’ll relax and pray and talk about our days, like normal married people do.

So that’s generally how my day goes by. The focus these days must be this language, I’m learning a lot, but I realize when I talk to people like my mullah friend, I have a long way to go.

In closing I have two announcements.
One, I have decided to change the name of one of the doves. The dove formally known as Melissa has been renamed Bird. I hope Melissa is not offended by this.
Two, one of my doves, the one named Bird, has unfortunately died. I walked to the roof on day to shut the doves in for the night and saw a cute little kitty standing atop of a bloody, mangled carcass that used to be Bird. Dear Ben was taking refuge on the window sill as I chased the homicidal kitty out of the area and over the wall. Since then Ben has not been the same, he tries to fly away more often, but his wings are still clipped. We decided that when they grow back we will just let him go.

Also, I had recently acquired a one-legged budgie by the name of Lil’ Brudder. Unfortunately Lil’ Brudder also died, though from unknown causes.

The moral of the story? Don’t give birds to Matt.

That’s all, pray for me. Time to read.

Where no man has gone before…

I was chatting with a neat Sindhi guy the other day. He looks just like William Shatner (except for being brown and all). I mean William Shatner today, not the lean and fit captain of 20 years ago.

So my buddy Will (certainly not his real name) is a wealthy Hindu doctor. I was invited to his house last week for a lovely pre-diwali feast. One thing struck me as soon as I arrived. His house is small, old and in disrepair. His doctor’s office is lovely with computers, ultrasound machines and such truck, but his house doesn’t even come close to matching his income. I wondered why. He told me before I asked. For the last ten years he has been working towards immigrating to Canada. He tells me he is putting no money towards his home in Pakistan unless is helps towards his future home in Canada. He is fully investing and banking on Canada. He sacrifices here for the hope of a better reward there. He’s wise. If her were to live in luxury here he’d be brought to poverty when he arrives in Canada. It’s easy to see a spiritual parallel here. Earth isn’t our final home, why do we invest here? Why do we spend money, time and energy on this little house that won’t last? People make fun of my buddy, Will, but when his work and discipline pay off he’ll be proved right, he’ll get his reward. Work for the food that never perishes, build up the home that cannot be torn down, put your treasure in heaven, you won’t be disappointed.

Also, I bought some doves. A boy and a girl. I think we named them Ben and Melissa. Melissa has this habit of walking up to Ben and pecking him rather hard in the back of the head. Ben has the neatest skill of being able to swivel his head around and eat bugs out of his armpits. Neat, eh?

Prudent steps…

One day Prudence was discussing spiritual matters with her dear friend Christian. She asked him whether he had fully gotten rid of those carnal inward affections that were characteristic of him when he lived at his old house. He replied that he would, but they remain still. He does what he hates and refuses what he loves. Prudence then asked him if he ever vanquished those things that are a spot on his soul. He replied:
Chr. Yes, but that is but seldom; but they are to me Golden Hours, in which such things happen to me.
Prud. Can you remember by what Means you find your annoyances at times, as if they were vanquished?
Chr. Yes, when I think what I saw at the Cross, that will do it; and when I look upon my ‘broidered Coat, that will do it; also when I look into the Roll that I carry in my bosom, that will do it; and when my thoughts wax warm about whither I am going, that will do it.

These four things Christian found to be encouraging and helpful in his battle toward sanctification.

The Cross
The life and atoning death of Christ. To think about what a great sacrifice He made to cure my disease of sin is helpful in at least two ways. One, it shows his great love to me, which causes me to love Him more. And two, it shows me how bad sin is and the destruction it causes, making my heart hate it all the more.

My ‘broidered Coat
Represents the righteousness that has been given to me through Christ. This mainly refers to the positional righteousness I have, but I think it may partially refer to the work of the Spirit in sanctification as well. This sight helps me to vanquish sin because I see Christ’s holiness that has been freely given to me, and I want to emulate that holiness in my life. Also, I see the work of the Holy Spirit in my life and I fear quenching His work, so I strive to be holier still.

The Roll
The roll represents the assurance of salvation that Christian received when his burden fell at the cross. He lost this assurance when he slept at the arbour and had to retrace his path in sorrow because his assurance was gone, and without that assurance he had no hope in him for heaven. When a Christian has full assurance that He who began a good work in him will complete it, he is less likely to become discouraged and is pushed to run hard after the One who has sealed him so. When the unregenerate believes he has an assurance of salvation, it often paralyzes his good works and causes him to stagnate. In a true believer, however, the Holy Spirit causes this blessed assurance to vivify the affections. The Christian’s assurance motivates him, it never cripples him.

Whither I am Going
It would do well for Christians to think about their final state. Whatever trials I am going through on earth cannot compare to the eternal weight of glory to be revealed at the end. Much less can the fleeting pleasures of sin hope to compete with the soul-ravishing joy of knowing the only true God and Jesus Christ whom He has sent. These lovely thoughts cause the Christian to desire a taste of heaven on earth, and sin is a bitter obstacle to the sweet taste of God. The Christian who has his eyes set on his prize will avoid this harsh food at all costs. So much should the Christian desire the taste of God that Jesus says he should be willing to part with his right eye or left hand for it.

More pics

Hey folks! I’ve got a few more pictures on the net, check ’em out:

He can sit up and everything these days!

It’s nice here.

Psalm 119

Back in the day I started a blog for little comments on passages from Scripture. It died due to lack of discipline. I’ve brought it back to life today. Try to keep me accountable on it. I want to work at it and post at least once a week.

Psalm 119

Matt

…the approximate number of mosquitos in the Pakistani town of Kunri in early fall. Like a good sidekick, he walked down the limb he was on to his dear Shan and told him his revelation. Shan’s attention, however, was elsewhere. You see, a collision at speed of 1 billion miles per hour (which is only possible because Todd is writing this story) has some dramatic effects on the environment. 1 billion miles per hour is actually slightly faster than the speed of light. So for less than a millisecond dear dummy barbjohn was travelling faster than light itself (this is, of course, impossible). Within this split-millisecond a largish force field was erected around barbjohn (this is, of course, impossible). Within this forcefield, as per Einstien’s theories and such, time slowed down to a crawl. From Shan’s, barbjohn’s, and the funny bird/mammel critter’s point of view, the trip and collision took practically no time at all. But from the rest of the world’s perspective, the trip took thousands of years because they we outside of this outlandish and rather improbable forcefield. So by the time the massive explosion struck the tree, mankind had achive self-actualization and had created for themselves a perfect, peaceful, prosperous and pleasurable society in which all were healthly, wealthy and wise. This massive explosion, however, managed to destroy everything outside the cute little forcefield within a million mile radius. So the entire planet was destroyed and the tree and it’s occupants were sent flying out into the dark empty reccesses of space. Shan tried to explain all this to barbjohn and rebuke him soundly for his meddling with quantum physics. By the time barbjohn had enough sense to pretend he had figured it out they noticed that there was a large round planet-like thing in their flight path. Shan began barking orders to the crew, not that there was any crew or flight controls for the crew to use, but mainly because it felt like the right thing to do. They began to brace themselves for a crash landing on this strange, and probably out-landish land.