Being in Bangalore

2007-05-04T21:28:00.000+05:30

Last Entry

We knew the day would come when we would post the final entry to our blog. We just could not comprehend on September 10, 2005 when we landed in the dead of night in Chennai that this day would arrive so quickly. Recapping our full experience over these past months in a few paragraphs is beyond our literary reach. We can say without hesitation that we have had a most marvelous adventure.

After a few carefree days of vacation in Paris, we will land in the US on May 11 and resume lives that, prior to our life in India, we considered adventuresome. Yet having trekked about the Indian subcontinent, strolled the streets of Hanoi, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur and dusted from our trousers the dirt from Sri Lankan gem mines, we may find our sense of adventure in the familiar surroundings of our Atlanta home requiring some adjustment. We are ready for that challenge.

We will face other challenges upon our return as well. We will move from left hand to right hand traffic flow, centigrade to fahrenheit, from never drinking the tap water to having our fill, bananas purchased from street vendors to bananas sold in wide-aisled, well lit Kroger stores. We’re looking forward to it.

The view from our back balcony overlooking the N.R. Colony will change to a view of full-leafed oak and poplar trees. Rather than having our neighbor’s dog Princess as an occasional visitor, Katie, Leopold and Sammy will be our regular canine companions. Grimmy and Elana, our two tiny fully grown cats, will find comfort with the return of our inviting laps.

Work at Jay’s Bangalore office will continue. New arrivals will continue to fill the ranks of the Bangalore Overseas Women’s Club. Our Indian friends from the apartment who are already home will continue to mingle on Republic Day in the apartment compound. We suspect our absence will hardly be noticed.

What will long linger are our many wonderful memories, many of which we’ve captured in this blog. Some that transcend photos are the retelling of his escape from the tsunami waters by Coconut Raj, the heat felt on our skin in the towns along the Malabar Coast and the quiet nod of appreciation when a few rupees were given to street beggars. These and other memories will remain as we adjust from urban to suburban living, rupees to dollars and begin letting our imaginations formulate our next great adventure.

2007-05-03T17:00:00.000+05:30

Pink Elephant Sale

As we move into our final days of preparation to leave Bangalore, Helen has had to stay laser-focused on another local affair. As the chairperson of the Overseas Women’s Club (OWC) community-sized yard sale fund raiser called the Pink Elephant Sale, her attention has been locked on securing donations, volunteers and coordination with various vendors.

All her hard work and that of the many OWC volunteers paid off when the event was held on Wednesday, 2-May. Nearly 95,000 rupees was raised for the OWC charities. Of the 86 boxes of donated clothing, toys, housewares and shoes, there were seventy empty boxes at the end of day. The remaining goods will be distributed to the OWC charities. Wednesday was truly a win-win day.

The Pink Elephant Sale was held in the large, tree shaded overflow parking lot provided by St. Mark’s Anglican Cathedral. Built by British expats in 1808 and enlarged a century later, the imposing church structure was the back drop for the sale. In a wink to the continuity of history, British expats again mingled on St. Mark’s grounds for the sale. Only this time they were joined by modern 21^st expats from Australia, New Zealand, the US and Europe that now also call Bangalore home.

The sale lasted 2 ½ hours. A 30 minute early bird sale was opened to volunteers to select from the 3,000+ donated items. Then the sale was opened to the wider community. People streamed onto the grounds. Volunteers manned tables with goods and more volunteers sat at cashier tables ready to accept the 10, 20 and 30 rupee notes for most goods.

Everything moved seamlessly that day, giving credit to the long hours of behind-the- scenes preparation work. Donated goods were assembled at our apartment and at the home of another OWC member in Whitefield. Goods at our apartment were first stored in our back bedroom then moved to our front balcony. More storage space was provided by the Salarpuria building manager. Our neighbor, Champa Barbut, a Sri Lankan OWC member, had boxes in her apartment as well. Volunteers gathered on two occasions to sort goods and affix price tags. Lots of work!

Without question, the greatest debt of vendor thanks goes to Solutions 4 Delivery. S4D not only donated the boxes and trucks to haul goods from our apartment and out of town Whitefield to St. Mark’s, the crews helped to load, unload and reload the leftover donated goods with the zeal of spirited volunteers. Attempts to provide a tip for their services was kindly rebuffed with, “We are volunteers, too.” Many thanks are offered to Mukal and Deepak and their crew from S4D.

Now it is time for us to finish our own packing.

2007-04-29T18:51:00.000+05:30

The Gods are Back in Town

Last year about this time, giant bamboo scaffolding rose from the ground at the corner of our street and Airport Road. Colored lights outlining the image of a deity soon appeared. At that time we had no idea that a multi-day festival was about to take place in our colony. This year once we spied stacks of bamboo, we knew the gods were back in town.

This festival appears to be local to our colony. Signage wishing a “Happy Phoo Palaki” revealed no understanding to us. Google, as well as Jay’s office mates, were equally stumped over the meaning of the festival. Not everything enjoyed is understood.

Last year’s witness of the festival gave us a general outline of affairs. The key focus is the gathered idols from the local temples. The idols are heavily decorated with flowers. Pooja (worship) is offered. From early dawn to late darkness recorded devotional music is broadcast from large speakers. During these religious ceremonies, we maintain a respectful distance. When Bollywood tunes are broadcast, we engage.

Last year we mingled with the Bollywood entertained crowd. Our crowd-pleasing antics of a 1-2-3 cha cha netted us an invitation by the organizers to dance on stage to the delight of the colony residents. This year we watched from afar. Our attention was on packing for our departure from India in a few days.

We put aside our packing when the evening’s fireworks had exploding clusters of red, green and white pyrotechnics bursting at near eye level from our bedroom balcony. Resistance was useless. Soon we were mingling on the streets.

A carnival-like atmosphere had invaded the streets. Balloons, plastic toys, bracelets and other trinkets were sold by street vendors. The main event came around midnight when the idols were paraded on their colorfully lit chariots.

A palaki or pallaki is a poled, suspended chair used to carry maharajas or sahibs. We suspect Happy Phu Palaki is related. It is a tradition at Hindu temples to employ a chariot in which the idol is transported. The famed stone chariot of the ancient temple complex of Hampi is a good example of the deep roots of this tradition.

Once the idols were in their chariots, devotees gathered with drums and horns. The drumming is frenetic as is the responsive gyrations of the faithful. You can feel the drum reverberations in the air pressing about your body. It is a spectacle without equal. The drumming, dancing and parading of chariots continued into the night. As the chariots moved down the narrow streets of the colony, attendants raised overhead electrical wires with bare hands (egad!) or bamboo poles to allow the chariots to pass. The electric flow to our apartment that evening was not surprisingly rather spotty. As dawn broke, we could hear the drumming, albeit more subdued, return to our lives. The chariots had finished their evening tour of the colony. Having come full circle the crowds dispersed, the chariots were stowed and the idols returned to their temples. We are sure they will be back next year. Until then, Happy Phu Palaki. We must return to our packing.

2007-04-28T11:11:00.000+05:30

The Check’s In the Mail

Today we completed the circle of generosity initiated by our church, the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta (UUCA), and presented the proceeds from our church’s social justice donation to Sukrupa Community Development in Bangalore. Helen had informed Krupa, the center’s Executive Director, that a donation from UUCA for Sukrupa would be made on April 15. To manage expectations, Helen indicated the donation would be in the range of $2,500 (Rs 100,000). Krupa later shared with us that, given that expectation, she had started some mental math on how the donation would be used.

The monthly rent of Rs 25,000 had not yet been paid… and there was no money in sight that would cover that expense. Meals for the over 200 children cost Rs.100,000 a month. Good progress on that expense. Need to figure out how to cover the shortfall by the end of the month. The other expenses….what to do?

With the ‘comfort’ that the rent would be paid and a good portion of next month’s meal expenses covered, Krupa stood pleased and grateful as Helen handed her an oversize check we had made for the occasion.

After holding the check for a few moments, we motioned to Krupa to actually read the amount on the check. Rather than the anticipated of Rs. 100,000, the check was for Rs. 214,067 (2,14,067…2 lakh, 14 thousand and 67 rupees in Indian-speak). Krupa’s breath was taken away. Complete strangers from the other side of the world had reached out and their anonymous generosity had made a big, big difference to children they will never meet here in Bangalore.

We were given the gift of actually seeing those children. As part of our visit, the Sukrupa children put on skits they had developed regarding pollution in India. “Do not wash your cow in the river where you draw your drinking water.” “Wash your hands before eating.” “Don’t pass urine on the street.” Tacit and simple lessons one may understand from the vantage point of the mature urban environs of Canberra, Hong Kong, New York and London. We, however, were watching the birth of a new generation of Indian citizens. The future will not be a repeat of the past.

We spent several hours chatting with the Sukrupa staff. Our first stop was the Fashion Center. We took photos of the tailors working at their sewing machines. The embroidery staff was equally keen to have a photo taken, as was the kitchen staff. We will make prints of the photos and gift them to each hard working individual.

We leave India with a hope that we have had some positive impact, however minuscule, on the lives of a tiny number of children. We were present at the creation, so to speak, of a generation that will demand more of themselves and others around them. If such a hope comes true, our adventure in India would be a greater treasure than we could have imagined.

2007-04-26T22:02:00.000+05:30

Off to the Presses

As we continue activities related to our imminent departure from Bangalore and return to our home in the US, we have prepared our blog to be printed in book form. The process required hours of patience to transfer our blog text and pictures to a Word document. Then hours were spent re-formatting and updating with a few corrections. Our blog book is now ready for the printer.

From work done for the Overseas Women’s Club, Helen selected Grafiprinters on Residency Road. The printer is housed in an old section of the former British Cantonment in an original bungalow that has fallen into disrepair.The printer told us that they have been renting space in this location for many years. He recounted a common story heard amid today’s soaring real estate values in this section of Bangalore. Ownership of the building is disputed by family members. At first, seven relatives were vying for control and the eventual proceeds from the sale of the land on which the building sits. Another 30 relatives have joined the fray. Our printer was not too concerned about receiving a notice to vacate the premises any time soon.

We named our blog book BeingInBangalore: A blog of our India Experience Sep 2005 to May 2007. With the cost of printing and binding running about $50 per book, we opted for 11 copies. We will keep a copy and then distribute the others to family and friends as gifts. We anticipate an expression of warm appreciation, perhaps a hug, a thumbing of the pages and then have our gifted opus relegated to a book shelf. That’s okay.

In this world of Google Instant Messaging, cryptic cell phone text communication… “where r u”…and ubiquitous e-mail messages, we are a society of perishable thoughts. Hardly anyone writes anything down on paper anymore.

Imagine our collective loss of prose if, John Adams, second president of the United States, and Abigail Smith Adams, his wife, had used their Yahoo e-mail accounts instead of quill pens in their exchange of 1,100 letters. Lost forever in a “You’ve Got Mail” pop up window would be a December, 1773 yearning from Abigail to her husband, “Alass! How many snow banks divide thee and me and my warmest wishes to see thee will not melt one of them.”

Our modest thoughts from our blog with its 141 entries, 206 pages, 975 photos and 66,940 words will soon find a home other than the ethereal world of the world wide web. Via the xerographic magic of electro-statically charged colored plastic inks, our work will be transferred to high gloss white paper. Maybe they're not the magic of the parchment- preserved words of John and Abigail. Yet, these are our 21^st century thoughts. A lone surviving copy of our blog book just might find a reader in distant times grateful that someone put their experiences and thoughts to paper.

2007-04-25T09:58:00.000+05:30

Preparing to Leave

In ten days we will be boarding our flight back home to the US. For almost two years we have called Bangalore home. Now it is time to start closing down our apartment, tidying up accounts and saying good bye to friends.

The biggest activity to close out is Helen’s volunteer work on the Overseas Women’s Club fund raiser called the Pink Elephant Sale. The Pink Elephant is a community-sized yard sale where articles donated by OWC members such as clothing, books, CDs, toys, house wares and all the other trappings of expat life are put on sale for all of Bangalore to purchase. This yearly event, the second largest OWC fund raiser, involves Helen gathering volunteers and donations. We have boxes of donations in our small apartment that have been sorted and priced. Finally, Helen needs to organize the activities on the day of the sale, 2 May, at St. Mark’s Cathedral. Needless to say, Helen has been focused on fulfilling her commitment. Time, nonetheless, for our departure marches forward.

Our departure heralds the completion of Jay’s work. The new development center facility has been opened in Bangalore. All the software development work, over 150,000 hours of effort for a large client, has been delivered. Mission accomplished.

Two unexpected business trips back to the US recently has allowed us to thin our belongings in India. We are down to a few sets of clothes and necessities. While in India, we have held to our marriage vow commitment of “no new stuff.” We are at a point in life where our experiences and relationships far exceed the value of “stuff”. Despite many, many temptations to acquire exotic accoutrements, we leave with but a few native treasures.

Notification to vacate our apartment has been given; arrangements for final payment of electric, gas, newspaper and so on have been made. We still need to close our Citibank account and hope that a repeat of the four weeks of hassle to open it is not repeated. The end of that saga is still to be realized.

Helen has cleverly sold our large purchases (king sized mattress, sheets, pillows, bedspread, coffee pot and bean grinder) to our next door neighbor. Due to plug configurations, our electrical appliances will be gifted. The printer-scanner-copier combination along with our wireless router will be given to Krupa for her use at the community center. Our wireless phone used with our Vonage VOIP adapter goes to our driver, Harish. Helen is actively helping Harish find another expat employer. He has been steady, dependable and helpful and has always protected us. We are glad to be his agent.

Our flight home is arranged. We fly home through Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. Due to the sprawling configuration of that airport, we typically give ourselves a few hours layover to ensure we catch our connecting flight to Atlanta. Since this is our final flight home, we opted for a six day vs. a three hour layover. Paris will be our halfway house as we transition from chapattis to croissants before returning home to bagels and English muffins.

One of our OWC friends, Pamela Bertram, is arranging a gathering of selected friends for a farewell dinner at the Blue Ginger restaurant the day before we depart. We have participated in several of these dinners in the past; it’s hard to believe that this time we will be the honored guests.

2007-04-24T21:23:00.000+05:30

Our Gifts to Others

We had a recent reaffirmation of the depth of generosity that some people can extend to strangers. Our church, the Unitarian Universalist Congregation of Atlanta (UUCA), has a commitment to give away the Sunday plate donation to worthy charities. Over US$50,000 has been given way this year. The Social Justice Committee selects organizations from nominations presented by church members. Helen’s nomination of Sukrupa Community Center in Bangalore was accepted for Sunday, 15 April.

Sukrupa is a non-government organization (NGO) founded in 2000 with a vision to provide an environment where slum children can learn academic, social and physical skills as well as being provided food in a safe, nurturing and caring environment. School-aged children come for breakfast and after school shelter and help with their homework. Preschoolers are cared for all day. A total of 230 children are served at Sukrupa. Very few of their parents pay anything for this care. Sukrupa depends on the donations of individuals and groups.

Despite labor laws to the contrary, child labor and exploitation is very real in India. Every third household has a working child. Girls deemed by tradition as lesser beings are the most exploited. Those once categorized in the caste system as untouchables are now called dalits. Their fate remains unchanged. Whether disadvantaged by age, gender or caste, Sukrupa extends a hand and gives hope that tomorrow can be better than today.

Helen is a Sukrupa volunteer. She has seen first hand how far young children who have no home training must stretch themselves to learn simple things like the names of shapes, numbers and letters and how to use a toilet and wash their hands. Small steps forward daily are meeting the challenges.

Our delight could not have been greater when we learned that the scheduled plate donation for Sunday, 15 April was for Sukrupa. Jay was in the US on a business trip and was provided an opportunity to share with the congregation Sukrupa’s story. It was candidating week for a potential new minister. The sermon was high voltage. Every seat was filled.

On Wednesday, Jay stopped by the church to pick up the donation proceeds. We had hoped for $3,000, maybe $4,000, given the circumstances of this past Sunday’s events. The check given to Jay was for $5,250.50 (215,270 rupees).

This is enough to pay for four qualified pre-school teachers for a year. Meals can be served. Repairs can be made to the building. The vision to change the future of young children who struggle against the strong bonds of tradition can be achieved. Thank you to the UUCA community, who helped shape the future for these young strangers.

2007-04-15T17:55:00.000+05:30

Akshaya Tritiya

On Saturday, the newspapers were full of ads from the jewelry stores, car dealerships, real estate brokers and stores that sell silk saris, especially designed for weddings. Tomorrow would be Akshaya Tritiya. Buy now!

Akshaya Tritiya falls on the third day (Tritiya) of the new moon of Vaishakh month. This day is considered one the four most auspicious days, according to the Hindu calendar. According to the Puranas, this day marks the beginning of the Treta Yug. The birthday of Parashurma (left), the sixth incarnation of Vishnu, falls on this day. It is believed that by doing a good deed on Akshaya Tritiya one can earn Punya (merit) for life. In northern India the holiday is known as Akha Teej.

The word Akshaya means “that which never diminishes.” This day is believed to be so pure and auspicious that starting new ventures and making new purchases like, gold, silver, property and vehicles are considered to bring success and prosperity. In India, gold is regarded as the ultimate symbol of prosperity, and jewelry shops are open into the wee hours on auspicious days. In spite of modern technology and changing lifestyles, this dedication to an auspicious time is a prominent feature of Indian life.

It is the best day for new investments. Thousands of marriages are performed on this day. It is also considered auspicious to seek the blessing of your elders. Most Hindus begin the day by visiting temples of the Goddess Lakshmi, the deity of wealth and prosperity.

Akshaya Tritiya was once considered auspicious for giving charity to those in dire need. Vedic pandits used to be given a package consisting of a pair of footwear, an umbrella, a hand fan and curd rice in a mud pot. All these things were given to apparently alleviate the harshness of the heat during this season.

So Akshaya Tritiya came and went with the requisite number of purchases and weddings. May you feel blessed on this auspicious day!

2007-04-10T12:11:00.000+05:30

Where Have You Gone, Wind Tunnel Road?

Some may offer deference to the invisible hand of Brahma, the Hindu god of creation, as the cause for technology buildings rising from the ground. For the less religious, the booming Bangalore economy is the energy coaxing these buildings upward. We are not as sure that the spirit of Shiva, the Hindu god of destruction, is absent from the relentless deforestation of Bangalore’s roadways.

An outward manifestation of the jobs and money that have flowed into Bangalore is the ever-increasing vehicular traffic. With more cars comes conjested roadways. Boom times are no times for thinking in moderation, so more roadway is created.

The IT boom is taking place in the old British Cantonment section of Bangalore. In the closing years of the 18^th century, Lord Cornwallis, unsuccessful with American colonialists in Yorktown, was wildly successful in his Indian campaign. With his victory over Tippu Sultan in 1799, the British secured control of the Deccan Plateau. The British then settled into a near-continuous peace on the Deccan until their complete departure in 1947.

With time on their hands, the British planted trees that would underpin Bangalore’s claim to be the Garden City. The clever British even planted trees that sprouted their colorful blooms of yellow, red, pink and lavendar at different times of the year to provide a continuous display of color and shade over roadways. When one has an empire on which the sun never sets, one inevitably develops a green thumb.

The empire is gone and, sadly, soon the trees will follow. Age has removed some trees. Those that linger will most likely feel the gash of a spinning chainsaw followed by an uprooting. An asphalt topping will be applied to any woody remnants.

We have watched lazy Wind Tunnel Road slowly meet its 21^st century fate. First the narrow lane bridge near the airport wall was replaced. Width and support for tonnage won out over nostalgia. Working south from the intersection from busy Airport Road, trees have been uprooted and new curbing installed; roadway is not far behind. The last vestiges of shady trees will soon be gone.

Our comments are not meant to convey any sense of righteous indignation. We have watched the same methodical bushwhacking of God’s creation as Atlanta grows to support ever- increasing populations of people and cars. We cannot cast any stones from our glass house.

We are grateful that we were able to have walked under the shade of trees we did not plant. What will be Bangalore’s gift be to its future generations?

2007-04-08T11:07:00.000+05:30

Easter Parade

Our Easter did not include a stroll down Fifth Avenue in New York humming Irving Berlin tunes ala Judy Garland and Fred Astaire. Our Bangalore Easter was another adventure into the unexpected. We understand Easter completely. For Hindu and Muslin festivals the nuisances of the rituals frequently escape us. Religious festivals in Bangalore, however, tend to borrow from one another. The adoration of Mother Mary at St. Mary’s Basilica looks amazingly similar to the adoration of icons at Hindu temples. So when we were invited to a dance recital over the Easter weekend at a private residence, we were intrigued how the familiar and unfamiliar merged together.

The dance group to perform, Prayaas, was from Sukrupa Community Center. The invitation to the recital was extended by the community center director and good friend, Krupa. Sony is the lead dancer and one of the Sukrupa residential children.

The venue for this Easter gathering was at the home of Steve and Tricia. Steve and Tricia were strangers, so we socialized with them and their two young children to get acquainted. As we chatted, a few other friends of our hosts joined the conversation. We learned that our hosts and friends were in India to help mostly illiterate people learn how to communicate through storytelling. "We believe that it is through our storytelling we that share so much about ourselves and learn so much of others," we were told. How does one make a living on such work? Our host’s home was spacious and in a nice part of town.

As more stories were recounted, we learned that our hosts had spent five years in Africa. Other guests had similar backgrounds. We were among missionaries. It seemed like a perfect crowd for Easter.

The dance recital had been specially prepared for this Easter event. Accompanying the dance was recorded toe-tapping folk music; the lyrics sang praise and hosanna to the risen Jesus. All was conducted in the local Kannada language, but the printed program provided clear explanation in English.

Next, our hosts and their friends became storytellers. They recounted before the assembly of 25 people the life, death and resurrection of Jesus, starting oddly from Genesis. We are religious people who take scripture seriously without taking it literally. Our hosts were in the later school of scripture reading. As one of our Unitarian Universalist ministers spoke in a sermon, “In the face of religious diversity, our criterion for making choices must shift from where an idea comes from, to where an idea leads us. It's not about roots; it's about fruits.” We are sure there are some stories to tell about this path. Amen, Shalom…may it be so.

2007-03-30T18:07:00.000+05:30

Labor of India

We have been in India for 1 ½ years; just a brief time, really. We have, however, become acutely aware just how tightly human labor is woven into the historic fabric of India. From the ancient ruins of Hampi, we can imagine the nameless stone carvers who labored to create ageless temples. From the beauty

of the Taj Mahal, we can imagine the many souls who anonymously toiled away to create a treasure for the centuries.

We need no imagination as we walk the streets of Bangalore to see the labor of men, women and children still who labor anonymously to create a 21st century technology capital.

Little appears to have changed over the centuries in the ready use of human endeavor to move earth or stone. The ceaseless strain of sinew and muscle gives true meaning to the term “man made.” Our dear friend Marion captured this miracle of engaged human hands transforming the landscape by commenting that India has been built over the ages “one shovelful at a time.”

The only contribution we can make to this great human endeavor is to take pictures of people as they labor, make prints and give them photos that captured a moment of their labor. We imagine these photos will be passed along from generation to generation. We can imagine someone in the future saying, “This is a picture of your grandfather when he was young.”

We have included some of those pictures on this blog and accompanying YouTube video link. Because the loading is jerky, let it run to the end with the sound off, then turn the sound up and click on Watch Again. The link is:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SXqzoVdjFmo

2007-03-25T10:45:00.000+05:30

It’s not Cricket

If something is “not cricket” it is not fair. As in, “We have waited since 1983 for India to win another Cricket World Cup. The imminent elimination of Team India from the competition is not cricket!”

With basketball providing a March Madness fever in the US, we have our own March Madness here in Bangalore with nary a Buckeye in sight. Cricket’s perennial four year World Cup contest, currently underway in the West Indies, is the stuff of headlines and street conversations. Our home team’s dismal and uneven play may soon eliminate it from the competition.

Earlier this week, Team India’s defeat to the weaker Bangladesh team transformed high hopes to dismal dismay amongst cricket fans. That dismay transformed into rage when distraught fans ransacked the under-construction home of wicketkeeper-batsman Mahendra Singh Dhoni. Apparently the “five wicket loss to the minnows” was more than some could tolerate.

For Pakistan, their successive losses to the West Indies and Ireland meant their hunt for another World Cup championship was prematurely ended. Pakistan madness is of another order. Pakistan’s cricket coach Bob Woolmer was found murdered in his hotel room. Scotland Yard has been called upon to help in the Woolmer murder investigation.

A few days later, India gave Bermuda a thrashing on their way to establish the highest winning margin in World Cup history. A win in India’s next match with Sri Lanka would propel it to the Super8.

Having a sufficient grasp of the game of cricket, we can watch a contest with some understanding. First played in England in the 12th century, cricket tagged along as the British set about to build an empire on which the sun never set. Records show cricket was first played in India in 1761. The colonial patina of cricket in India has long been replaced by the local and national love for the sport.

A “now or never” sense pervaded Bangalore as the Sri Lankan game approached. Early headlines published before the final completion of the Sri Lankan game showed ebullient Indian players; 44 for three wickets chasing 255. Victory was possible. Unfortunately, the news that emerged the next day showed ebullient Sri Lankan cricketers and spoke more of “shameless ouster” for Team India. Two overly excited fans in Hyderabad and Ahmedabad reportedly died of heart attacks. Following a quarrel with his wife over the volume at which he listened to the game on TV, a third fan reportedly hung himself. Protests of Indian cricket fans were widespread.

There are emerging leads that may solve the Woolmer murder. Hope, too, will emerge for Team India to bat and bowl its way to another World Cup championship in 2011.

2007-03-19T20:50:00.000+05:30

In the Beginning….

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.” Thus is written the story of creation in Genesis.

In this land of Hinduism, creation is understood to have occurred differently and is celebrated today on Chandramana Ugadi. On this day, it is said, Lord Brahma began his creation. In the trinity of Hindu gods, Lord Brahma is the creator, Lord Vishnu the preserver and Lord Shiva the destroyer.

There is no single Hindu myth on the origin of the universe. In one myth, the endless cycle of birth, life and death (creation, preservation and destruction) of the universe reinforces the concept of reincarnation. After an Earth age is destroyed nothing is left but a vast universal ocean. Floating on this ocean is the thousand-headed serpent named Ananta or Shesha Nag (Timeless or Ageless snake). Resting within the coils of Ananta is Lord Vishnu. From the navel of Lord Vishnu sprung a lotus flower and from this lotus came Lord Brahma. Lord Vishnu then spoke to Lord Brahma, “It is time to begin.”

Another creation story tells how the god Brahma created the primal waters inside a small seed. The seed grew into a golden egg. Brahma split open the egg. From half of the egg comes the heavens; from the other half the Earth.

There are other variations on these stories, but it is sufficient to say Chandramana Ugadi is the beginning of a new Hindu lunar calendar. The day is celebrated here in the southern state of Karnataka with ritual pooja (worship) and holiday meals.

On Ugadi, people rise early, massage their bodies with sesame oil and then take a ritual bath. Entrances to homes are decorated with fresh mango leaves as a harbinger of good crops. Fresh Rangolis or designs of rice flour are placed before the household doorway. We are not to sure how compliant people are today with another holiday tradition of splashing fresh cow dung water on the ground in front of their houses. Families gather and festive meals shared.

Along with social merriment, religious zeal and prayers for health, prosperity and business success, Ugadi is a most auspicious time to start new a venture.

Happy Ugadi Day….may you have a cheerful and prosperous year!

2007-03-17T18:07:00.000+05:30

A Dog’s Life

Terrible news of young children being mauled to death by feral dogs in Bangalore has been filling the news lately. In early January, eight year old Sreedevi died from a dog mauling in Chandra Layout. Two months later, four year old Manjunath did not survive his attack by a pack of 15 wild dogs. After both attacks, increased government action was seen in the removal of stray dogs. An equally vigorous counter campaign was also seen from animal rights groups over the actions of government officials. Something just does not seen right.

Without first-hand witness, it is difficult to appreciate the stray dog situation in Bangalore. In the US dogs are tagged, leashed and pampered. In Bangalore, and generally in India, dogs free-range along with cows and goats.

Some estimates place the number of stray dogs in Bangalore at 60,000. Our casual walks in our colony or along sidewalks in the heavily urbanized center of the city are always accompanied by stray dogs. We suspect there is a significant underestimation.

Back in 2000, government officials of the Bruhut Bangalore Mahanagara Palike (BBMP) established the Animal Birth Control (ABC) program to humanely deal with the wild dog problem. The ABC program officials have claimed their focus on sterilization and “in extreme cases like rabid dog” euthanasia has been successful. As we listen each evening from our bedroom to the vicious barking of wild dog packs fighting for street territory in our colony, we question the ABC’s definition of “successful.” We are sure the parents of Sreedevi and Manjunath would have the same question.

In this land of vegetarians and Hindu re-birth theology, social responsibility in the treatment of animals has wide appeal. There is also a universal appeal in the caring for creatures without defense. Protests over KFC treatment of chickens in 2005 saw protesters on busy Brigade Road here in Bangalore as well as the support in far away Anchorage, Alaska from a former Playboy bunny.

The clumsy response by the local government officials to the dog attacks fueled the rights campaign. A photo of dog carcasses heaped at a BBMP site and reports of other carcasses being mingled with local waste at landfills brought more distraction to an already confused environment. Most government actions here move in fits and starts. Neglect transforming into overachieving in one step. Nothing really changes.

To understand why so many dogs populate our streets, we return to our self-provided guidance that there must be a social intent to support a way of living. Tagged, leashed and pampered may be bourgeois, but at least our children can walk on the streets or sidewalks and come home safely.

Just as news of dog attacks and animal rights protests faded from the front page, we read just three days ago of seven year old Yashwanth escaping from his encounter with a pack of feral dogs. It appears the social intent of our neighbors is still forming.

2007-02-22T03:20:00.000+05:30

Chairman Award

When the idea of taking an assignment in India was first considered in 2004, there was no sense of what form that adventure would take. Equally so there was not an inkling of how the adventure would end. During a visit to Bangalore in February of some senior executives from Jay’s company, BearingPoint, he was informed that he had won the company’s 2007 Chairman Award for his work in Bangalore.

Unlike many company awards that come with a firm handshake and expressions of gratitude, this award, which is bestowed on only one of BearingPoint’s 18,000 employees, comes with a check for $25,000 (minus taxes, of course!). Additionally, Jay and Helen were invited to the company’s annual meeting of Managing Directors in Orlando, Florida to receive the award.

Being recognized for one’s work is always embracing. Our story in Bangalore was indeed unique. The oft-quoted signature line from the nomination was, “If one measures commitment to our client’s success by going the “extra mile,” Jay went 9,000 miles for our DLL client.” In a subsequent conversation with the Chairman, Helen was told selecting this year’s winner was an easy unanimous decision.

Airlines tickets to come the 9,000 mile back home were booked and Orlando hotel reservations made. The award was to be presented early morning on Thursday in general sessions before all the meeting participants. We arrived in time to have some chat time with the company president, Harry You, and chairman, Rod McGeary. Due to scheduling conflicts, the award was re-scheduled to later that day. It was recommended that we enjoy our idle time at Universal studios.

After a rollicking ride at the Revenge of the Mummy, some toe tapping to the Blues Brothers, a monster mash-like Beetlejuice revue, a real hamburger at a fifties café, a spectacular show with Poseidon and a host of other adventurers, we were back at the JW Marriott by 2:30 pm for the award presentation.

During the brief ceremony, Chairman McGeary recognized both Jay and the contributions Helen had made. Due to time constraints Jay was unable to give his acceptance speech. If he had, he would have concluded his list of thanks to the many, many others who made the award possible with:

“Finally, I want to thank my lovely wife, Helen. She left her job and ventured forth. Through everything she has been helpful, encouraging and supportive as we shared our challenges and affections for our new home in India.”

Some things are just not meant to be done alone.

2007-02-13T23:47:00.000+05:30

Sri Lanka

– Bentota Adventures

On our journey back to Colombo we stopped for an evening stay in the laid back town of Bentota. The Wunderbar Beach Club was our reserved and ideal resting place. The owner-operator was a long-haired twenty-something, appropriately tattooed for his generation and wrapped in a sarong adorned with images of the late reggae icon Bob Marley amid a display of ganja leaves.

The hotel, about 300 yards inland from the long, sandy, debris-free beach, was tucked among coconuts trees . The rooms were spacious and the private verandas were an easy place to relax for a sundowner libation. The second story restaurant / bar was rustic and comfortable. It was surprising, then, to hear in this land of “No worries, Man” the rumble of trains between the hotel and the beach. When the British, those perennial beach-goers (ha!), built the railroad in the late 1800’s, beach front property was a convenient, flat and inexpensive place to lay tracks. Fortunately the beach tranquility was not greatly disrupted by the comings and goings of passenger trains.

There is also sufficient beach tranquility to support hatching grounds for sea turtles. The turtle rescue stations that dot the beachfront are small wire mesh enclosures where baby turtles can securely hatch from their buried sandy nests. Each morning the new hatchlings are collected for later and safer release to the sea. At the Wunderbar there was an educational display of mature sea turtles and a holding tank for the newly hatched.

We took a boat excursion up the Bentota River. The early morning four hour tour in an open boat with our guide was a charming way to see the mangrove-shrouded banks and life in the lagoon basin. As hoped, we spotted the prehistoric-looking and ubiquitous Sri Lankan water monitors. Growing to about six feet, the monitors we encountered were lazing on the opposite bank as we pushed out into the blackish lagoon water.

Further up river, bird life was visible along with the many fishing barriers erected by the locals. One enterprising fisherman supplemented his aquatic income with the aid of a small trained monkey. As we motored up river, our entrepreneur paddled with his 14 inch partner to meet our boat. With practiced ritual, the monkey hopped astride our boat, looked adorable eating a green bean and waited for a few rupees to be handed to him. In an apparent dispute over profit sharing with his partner, our wide-eyed furry entertainer held firmly to the rupees. We assume accounts were amicably settled later.

Further upstream was an unexpected stop at a small house where an elderly woman demonstrated the art of cinnamon harvesting, rope making from coconut husk fibers and palm leaf mat making. Marion and Helen tried their hands at rope making, purchased some processed cinnamon and exchanged thanks.

At the apex of our upriver adventure we stopped at an island Buddhist pagoda. The head monk indicated he had come to this pagoda 40 years earlier as an orphan. By his side stood a bright-eyed twelve year old who would share this same story in his middle-aged years. In our western psyche where time is a progenitor of change, it was instructively challenging to see that some things can idle in harmony with time. More rupees were requested, but our ready cash had been diminished by the unexpected shopping stop.

In Buddhist-like fashion, much of the later part of the day was spent in perfect harmony with time as beach bums.

2007-02-11T20:09:00.000+05:30

Sri Lanka

– Day Trip Adventures

With the Printers Hotel as home base for two nights we explored the sights along the coastal highway just north of Galle. The first thing that struck us as we traveled the roads with towns 1.3 meters above sea level was that we were traveling where the waters of the 2004 Asian tsunami had raged.

Prosperity appeared to be the order of the day. The road was in excellent shape and filled with vehicles and people. Most shops were well stocked and busy with commerce. In contrast, we could see the many broken shells of concrete buildings that had lined the road prior to the tsunami. Sometimes even the shell of the building was gone and only a concrete slab remained where once meals were cooked and family life was alive. Our driver Joseph, who accompanied relief workers in 2005, spoke to us of the devastation wrought by what now appeared to be a placid sea. We drove about two kilometers inland where Joseph noted the waters had roiled. Rusting railroad rails could be seen twisted about coconut trees. We visited uprighted battered railroad cars that fleeing victims mistook for refuge. Hard to believe that such events took place in this sun-soaked paradise.

Further up the coast we visited the stilt fishermen of Sri Lanka. To be honest, our encounter was less National Geographic and more National Inquirer. Despite our very early morning start, we were unable to find any fishermen perched on their slender pole seats out in the surf. Our driver Joseph inquired with the locals and discovered “no fish today” was the reason. With the aid of a few exchanged rupees, the fishermen donned their fishing garb, waded into the water and proceeded to “fish” as our camera shutters snapped.

After a quick visit to a silk emporium and batik tie dying factory, we visited a local hand looming operation. With steady endeavor using only her hands and feet, a single woman working outside in the shade behind an old shed, fed cotton thread to and fro producing about 2 meters of cloth per day. Paid 100 Sri Lankan rupees ($1.00) per meter of woven cotton, we marveled at her stamina and genteel ways with us. For the privilege of taking her photo, we gave her a day’s wages before departing.

We were soon off to the glass bottom boat ride to view the coral of the near-shore reefs. Unfortunately, due to bleaching actions several years ago compounded by the tsunami, the former brilliant coral was replaced with broken and muted grayish color coral. The water clarity, however, was unparalleled. As we motored about we could see colorful parrot fish and schools of barracuda swimming among the reefs.

In Ambalangoda, known for its carving of ceremonial masks in soft kadura wood, we visited shops where ritual masks of today and yesteryear were on display. There were masks of gods, demons, evil spirits, birds and animals. The carving of abnormally raised eyebrows, bulging eyes, protruding teeth and cheek-bones painted in bright colors no doubt carries significant meaning. For us it was journey though a world of art and the unsolved mystery of that art. More adventure in paradise.

2007-02-11T12:23:00.000+05:30

Sri Lanka

– A Lot of Galle

From the interior gem mines in Ratnapura, we drove to the southwestern coastal city of Galle (pronounced Gaul). This port city was an important trading center in pre-Christian times, with legend holding that King Solomon’s fleets bartered on its shores. Galle entered European history when storm winds pushed the Portuguese captain Lourenço de Almeida to its coastline in 1505.

The Dutch East India Company displaced the Portuguese in 1640. Dutch energies strengthened the Portuguese fortifications and expanded the town within the fort’s wall. Today the Old Dutch Fort at Galle is a world heritage site, preserving the fusion of old world charm and the pleasant amenities of the 21^st century.

Among those amenities is The Fort Printers hotel. The hotel is an 18^th century building that has been recently restored to an open, airy and inviting accommodation. We typically do not swoon over our travel accommodations, but the Printers was a unique experience with its large open foyer space, 16 foot raw-beamed bedroom ceilings, welcoming ambience and matching service. Over the years the building has been home to the Buddhist Theosophical Society and the Mahinda College. This academic background is reflected in the naming of the five guest rooms. We stayed in History; Rich and Marion in Arts.

After a pleasant breakfast served in the inner open-air courtyard, we set out to explore the winding streets of the fort city. At the Laksana Gem Shop, Helen purchased a stunning six stone blue sapphire ring with a center of small diamond chips. Rich and Marion did some antiquing at the Historical Mansion Art Gallery and the other shops inside the fort. Despite the interesting objects on display, the best goods appear to have been purchased long ago.

A walk along the fort ramparts is a “must” adventure. This 90 minute stroll gave us ample time for viewing the beautiful clear waters that wash against the rocky fort foundations. There were stops at the lighthouse and old clock tower and diversions into the fort interior to the Old Dutch Reform Church and other interesting buildings. One special treat was a ride in the 1945 little Morris Minor perennially parked just outside the front gate of our hotel. With some finesse and flexibility, three of us (Marion – front, Jay & Helen back) squeezed into this British motorcar of a bygone era for an evening driving tour of the old fort city. Adventures are frequently unexpected and come in any size.

2007-02-10T01:43:00.000+05:30

Sri Lanka

– Land of Gems Mines

After landing late in the night, we spent the evening at the Goldi Sands beach front hotel in Negombo, just north of Colombo. Early the next day, we met our driver Joseph and started our journey to the gem fields in the interior of the island. Our destination was Ratnapura…the gem capital of Sri Lanka.

For centuries Sri Lanka has been providing gems, especially sapphires, to the world. Coming in a variety of colors from yellow, green, white, colorless, pink, orange, brown, and purple, blue is the most popular color. The red variety is a ruby. Sapphires may not be a girl’s best friend, but they are the stuff upon which legends are built.

Sapphires have long been considered powerful talismans protecting owners from sickness and evils. The gem has also been regarded as a symbol of truth and sincerity. It is said that the luster of a sapphire would dim if worn by an unfaithful husband or wife. Ancient Persians believed that the Earth rested on a blue sapphire and its reflection colored the sky.

We had visions of grandeur, therefore, as we headed along the bumpy roads to the gem mines. Somewhere among these hills of Sri Lanka the famed mammoth “Star of India” blue sapphire was pulled from the earth. Our tour of the gem mines in Ratnapura revealed to us not the glamour of the world of sapphires, but rather the hardscrabble realities of the gem business.

Scattered in old unkempt, overgrown fields, the mines appear as they have been since the times of King Solomon. The gem mines are actually “gem pits” about 15 ft square with shafts running 30 ft deep. Aside from the introduction of gasoline engine water pumps, not much as changed in the exploration for gems.

Stooped miners extract and wash mountains of earth for hours each day in muddy waters in search of small gem fragments. Three or four pebble-laden baskets may yield a single small gem. Yet despite the poverty of the miners, there is the potential to find another Star of India in these muddy pits. Guards dutifully slumber nightly in nearby shacks. Fortified with ample stocks of whisky and cigarettes, the guards stand ready to thwart any interloper intent upon washing mountains of muddy earth by moonlight in search of the well-hidden gems.

From the gem mines in the interior of the island, we started another long bumpy ride to the southern coast of Sri Lanka. Our evening’s destination was the Fort Printers Hotel inside the old walled Dutch fort in Galle (pronounced “gaul’). The hotel and the old fort provided a magical adventure…where the stuff of legends comes true.Publish

2007-02-09T17:23:00.000+05:30

Sri Lanka

– a Five Day Trip

With our friends Rich and Marion, we were off on a five day trip to Sri Lanka. Our knowledge of Sri Lankan culture, history and people was scant. We really did not know what to expect.

Known as Ceylon until 1972, this small island country off the southeast cost of India is officially known as the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka. Europeans encountered this island in 1505 when the Portuguese landed. A century and a half later, in 1658, control passed from the Portuguese to the Dutch East India Company. The Dutch had their 150 years of fame until 1796 when the British captured the Dutch colonies. British rule ended in 1948 with the grant of independence. As we traveled about the island we encountered the 21^st century remnants of these European encounters. The most striking remnant was wide use of English in public signage and commerce.

For decades a struggle on this beautiful island has been waged between the 10 million Buddhist - Sinhalese and the 1.4 million Hindu - Tamil populations. Political protests from the Tamil population for a separate independent state of Tamil Eelam have unfortunately been mixed by more violent action from the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). In the capital city Colombo, there are ample signs of the security measures imposed around the airport, harbor and government buildings. Fully clad combat soldiers walk the city’s main streets. Also seen were coiled strands of razor barbed wire surrounding buildings with sandbag guard enclosures. Maybe out of ignorance or disbelief that such a vibrant city could be bathed in such violence, we felt safe as we went about our business and saw everyone else doing the same. One obvious demonstration of safety is that cars there stop for pedestrians in the crosswalks, even without a traffic signal!

Helen and Marion, with the assistance of a familiar Indian travel service, Masala Tours, did the planning. The trip was designed to steer as far as way as possible from trouble. Most of the fighting occurs in the north and central regions, so we headed south and hugged the southwestern coast in our circular drive of the country. The itinerary included a short drive to the interior to visit the renowned gem mining area of Ratnapura. While we were there we got a chance to see a gem mine. If you can picture an old Western movie with a miner panning for gold, it looked just like that, only in pits.

We also spent several days of beach walking along the beautiful southern coast. We particularly enjoyed our two days in Galle, where our hotel was located inside the remnants of the old Dutch fort. Galle has retained its historic charm and we enjoyed spending time looking at all the antiques still there. Our last full day was spent in Bentota, where we swam in the ocean and saw baby turtles in an enclosure on the beach that had hatched within the previous 12 hours. The babies are kept safe at a turtle hatchery until their shells are hard enough that they don’t easily fall prey to the many predators in and near the water.

Even though they are close geographically, Sri Lanka is quite different from India. Their intent of living is unlike their Indian neighbors, and it was a pleasant surprise.

2007-02-01T16:45:00.000+05:30

Isola Di Cocco

The Poovar Island Ayurvedic Beach Resort of Isola Di Cocco was our home for three days while in Southern India. Isola Di Cocco (Island of Coconuts) is uniquely located in Kerala, providing access to the beaches of the Lakshadweep Sea as well as to Kerela’s backwaters. The grounds of the resort are idyllic. Greenery, fan palms and flowered arbors mingle with a large swimming pool, long sandy beaches and airy restaurant facilities. It was a little bit of paradise right here in India.

The resort is 18 km south of Trivandrum. Unfortunately, during our late evening drive from Kanyakumari, neither we nor our driver had any clue where the resort was located. Signage was sparse and difficult to read on the unlit back roads of Kerala. Tucked behind acres of coconut groves and languid lagoon water, our final approach to the resort on the rural rutted road was a bit harrowing.

The resort caters to westerners. During our stay, German and Italian conversations were frequently overheard. We are not of the “lounging pool side” or “beach bathing” crowd, so we headed off to explore.

We found fishermen chest-deep in the lagoon irrigation water. With smooth, even motions they dipped their nets. Sometimes a small flat fish would be found wiggling in the netting. More often, only leafy water vegetation was pulled from the murky water. Nearby, a young mother sat on the ground with her daughters weaving mats from palm leaves.

Further down the road, men swung heavy hammers to break and shape large stones that were then lifted and fitted into a retaining wall. Just a short distance away another group of men were doing the same thing to build a property line wall. These shaped stones, weighing maybe 80 lbs, were lifted by the helping hands of two men and placed upon the padded heads of waiting women. The women, ramrod straight, would then carry the stone blocks a few yards. With a simple bend at the waist, the stones would be tossed onto the ground on the other side of the string guide lines. Other hands would then move the stones into their final resting place in the wall. The process was repeated again and again.

On our walk back to the resort, we greeted a man walking his cow and goat down the dusty dirt road. Snaps were taken at the front gate with the guard and a passel of autorickshaw drivers waiting for fares from the Germans, Italians and the other pampered guests.

On our last day there we ventured, via boat, onto the sandbar facing the ocean. Fishermen were found straightening their nets after a morning of fishing. Other fishermen in small, log-built boats, were paddling with only slit bamboo poles. A very hard life in paradise.

An Italian man strolling on the beach confirmed, “Bela!” (beautiful!) as he waved his arm at the ocean. He took our picture as the surf rolled onto the sandy shore. Kerala is indeed, as the tourist campaign offers, god’s country.

2007-01-26T21:29:00.000+05:30

Kanyakumari

We drove to Kanyakumari at the very southern tip of India following our wedding adventure in Tuticorin. We arrived just in time to take the last ferry ride of the day out to the Vivekananda Memorial Rock and the towering statue of Thiruvalluvar. The Vivekananda Rock Memorial and Thiruvalluvar statue are rather recent additions to the tourist map in Kanyakumari. They overshadow the more ancient mainland based Kanyakumari Temple.

Awash in the mingling waters from the Arabian Sea, Bay of Bengal and Indian Ocean the Vivekananda Memorial and statue of Thiruvalluvar are just magnets for tourists.

Ferry service to these tourist attractions costs Rs. 20 (45 cents) "to and fro” and carries the stipulation “no ½ service.” Fine with us. Ferry service consists of two rusty scows that pack travelers onboard with a focus on utilizing all possible deck space. We’re sure the signs inside the ferries that say, “All passengers must be seated while the boat is moving” are for legal reasons only. We were packed in like sardines.

The Vivekananda Memorial Rock is dedicated to Swami Vivekananda who, by legend, spent days in meditation upon the rock. Swami Vivekananda (1863 – 1902) was an influential spiritual leader and devotee of Ramakrishna (1836-1886) and his teachings of Vedanta. Swami Vivekananda was something of a religious superstar in his day, traveling about Europe and America sharing his teachings of the unity of existence. He taught that all religions lead to the same goal. Expressed later by the founder of the Vedanta Society of Southern California, "If you put Jesus, Buddha, and Mohammad in the same room together, they will embrace each other. If you put their followers together, they may kill each other!" Maybe we need to get a Swami to Baghdad.

Barefooted, we toured the windswept Vivekananda Memorial. To our surprise, we actually witnessed a slight difference in color of the waters that mingled at the meeting place of the Indian Ocean, the Bay of Bengal and the Arabian Sea, the great bodies of water that surround the rock outcropping.

The second ferry stop was the 133 foot statue of Thiruvalluvar. The statue is dedicated to the 1^st millennium Tamil poet who authored the Thirukkural, one of the oldest and most revered works in the Tamil language. In an ironic juxtaposition to Vivekananda’s teaching of oneness, Tiruvalluvar's faith is disputed, with Hindus claiming him as one of their own and Jains doing the same. Divinity by many paths.

Back on shore from our raucous, wave-tossed ferry ride, we headed to Sunset Point. Unfortunately, a heavy overcast sky muted our sunset experience. We expected this….

but experienced this.

Only moderately disappointed in our sunset experience, we climbed back into our car for the two hour drive to Trivandrum. We were thankful that we were blessed with another adventure-filled day in our travels in India.

2007-01-26T11:49:00.000+05:30

Balaranjith Weds Romila

We had an opportunity to attend the wedding of one of Jay’s work colleagues, Ranjith. This wedding between Ranjith (also known as Bala) and Romila took place in the small port town of Tuticorin in the southeast state of Tamil Nadu, with another reception the following day in Trivandrum (Thiruvanantapuram) in the southwest state of Kerala. Reflecting centuries of western contact with southern India, the wedding was a Christian affair.

After a flight from Bangalore to Madurai the previous evening, we got a very early start on our drive to Tuticorin with instructions to our driver to “get us to the church on time.”

We arrived at St. Patrick’s Church in Tuticorin with sufficient time to mingle with other invited guests, but no one was at the church. A kindly priest intervened and instructed a church guard to walk us to the nearby home of one of the relatives. We were very warmly greeted and chatted briefly. The ladies at the house honored Helen by pinning a small garland of jasmine to her hair. The time of the wedding was approaching. Shouldn’t we all be assembling at the church? Oh, we still have so much to learn.

With great kindness shown to our confusion, we were ushered into an Indian-built Ambassador car and driven to a marriage hall where the first of two ceremonies of the day was underway.

We arrived shortly after a procession of relatives had greeted the newlyweds. There was still much pomp, ceremony, relative-mingling and endless picture taking to come. We were warmly received by Ranjith’s mom and dad as was another honored guest, Philip Bratten, who had traveled from Pittsburgh to attend. We chatted with relatives and had our photo taken with Ranjith’s grandmother, the oldest attendee. Dr. Sundararaj, the father-in-law of one of Ranjith’s brothers, was our guide for the day.

At the appointed time, the groom departed amid the sounds of a marching band! This wedding, in true Indian style, was groom oriented. Lead by the marching band, a procession of cars that individually contained the groom and bride and their attendants meandered its way to the church.

Although the service and hymns at. St. Patrick’s were in Tamil, we generally understood the order of events. There was no ring exchange. Rather, Ranjith presented Romila with an absolutely beautiful gold necklace with a large, custom-made medallion with a cross and their initials on it. The civil ceremony of signing the marriage registry followed.

It was back to the marriage hall where there was more dancing, music, giving of gifts and more picture taking. As the long line of relatives queued to present gifts, family youngsters provided dance entertainment from lame Bollywood gyrations to well-practiced folk traditions. We presented our gift and had our picture taken with the bride and groom. We ate our meal served on a banana leaf, then thanked our hosts for their marvelous hospitality. We got back in the car with instructions to our driver to get us to Kanyakumari at the very southern tip of India in time to catch the evening sunset.

2007-01-22T19:10:00.000+05:30

Women in the News

Opening our morning newspapers, we found “ink” liberally dedicated to the news of rich and powerful and not so rich and powerful women. “I’m in. And I’m in to win” was the headline reporting that Hillary Clinton had tossed her hat into the 2008 US presidential race. We suspect that Hillary, with her own savvy skills, long exposure to the global media and a master strategist as a spouse will hold her own in the widening field of Democratic hopefuls.

News of our homegrown Bollywood star Shilpa Shetty’s appearance on the British reality show Celebrity Big Brother also commanded attention. Nearing the halfway mark of their one month of togetherness, the personal bickering among the 12 housemates of faux and yesterday fame was coming to a showdown. Shetty has been holding her own, but ended up being reduced to sobs. Referred to as “the Indian” or the “Paki” and having her English and eating habits questioned, Shetty found her main antagonist in Jade Goody. Goody, a dental nurse, whose fame is based on her previous participation in a Big Brother show, was voted off by British viewers by an 82% margin.

The producers of the show were not all that upset. Goody’s rants substantially pushed up viewership. Now off the show, the producers are considering sending Goody to India. The trip is not to sensitize her Indian sensibilities. Rather, she may appear on the producer’s subcontinent version of the show, Big Boss . On this program it appears that the Indian class conflict tension is not holding viewer attention. A second lightning strike of cultural conflict may be in order. As for Shetty, her 50 Bollywood film career faltering, will pocket 350,000 English Sterling pounds for her pain. Real life for women in India is far harsher.

It is not uncommon to read of dowry harassment, or of a male suitor whose advances have been spurned, retaliating by tossing acid in the woman’s face. The male-prerogative- dominated nature of our subcontinent culture is also seen in the euphemistic term used to describe sexual harassment; “Eve teasing.” Recently a women’s movement called Blank Noise, lead by Jasmeen Patheja, took to busy Brigade Road to combat the sexual advances of the mainly young male crowd that prowls Brigade Road and the nearby pub crawl lane of Church Street. In Gandhigiri style, using moral force to combat society’s inequities, the women “stare insensitive men into shame.”

In another advance for woman, the Bombay High Court came to the aid of Dilshad Begum, albeit 16 years after she contested her husband’s declared divorce. Under Muslim law a man can divorce his wife at his will by declaring three times “talaq, talaq, talaq.” Talaq literally means “undoing the knot.” No such right exists for a woman. She must obtain her husband’s explicit consent. Dilshad will now receive some relief, but, overall, her rights remain diluted in sea of man-made laws.

Hillary may be vying for the most powerful job in the world, but for Dilshad, it was one small step for a woman and one giant leap for womankind.

2007-01-16T17:45:00.000+05:30

Offending at Internet Speed

We awoke to a headline in the Times of India, “YouTube Angers I&B with Gandhi Video.” With Danish cartoons causing such agitation just about a year ago, our attention was pulled to read further.

The article revealed that the Information & Broadcast ministry was outraged with YouTube and two Indian networks for airing a video by a 29 year old New York-based comedian Gautham Prasad. The video, called “Time to Get Sexy,” is a lame, one man act. With a scull cover, dark round glasses and fake nose to look like Mahatma Gandhi, Prasad is pole dancing, garbed in a cotton thong and dangling pasties. Indian government officials stated the video was an “assault on the dignity of the Father of the Nation.” The apology demanded from the Indian TV stations by the government I&B minister was quick and unqualified. YouTube was another matter. There within lies the new dilemma in our wired, global community.

YouTube is sensitive to such issues. To access the video, YouTube requires one to login with their YouTube credentials and acknowledgment that they will be exposed to material that the YouTube community considers objectionable. The I&B minister threatened to block access to the YouTube website. The video is still available to the global community to amuse or offend.

Offensive “art” is not new. In the early 1500’s, Michelangelo tussled with Vatican officials over exposed genitalia in figures in the Sistine Chapel’s Last Judgment. Considered as immoral and obscene, the Vatican initiated the Fig-Leaf Campaign and engaged Daniele da Volterra to strategically paint fig leaves on the master’s fresco.

In the late 1980’s, Andres Serrano’s infamous Piss Christ, a photograph of a crucifix submerged in his urine, provoked wide ire in the US. Threats to end funding for the arts were captured in the congressional record. Almost at the same time, the opening at the Cincinnati Contemporary Arts Center, Robert Maplethorpe: The Perfect Moment photography exhibit resulted in the indictment of the center’s staff. Maplethorpe’s 1978 bathtub photo was just a warm-up for photos in the exhibit some called obscene and immoral.

Through the centuries, fig-leaf painting, threats to suspend funding, legal intimidation, press room closings, transmitter lockouts and website blocking were tools of the offended. With ubiquitous Internet access, expanding WiFi networks and more versatile mobile phones information, both comforting and offensive, everything will be increasingly available.

Is access to so much information a bad thing? Maybe a murky understanding of our universal right to have access to information and our lagging ability to absorb so much data should be our greater concerns.

How many chanting Muslim zealots in February 2006 brandishing banners threatening murder and beheading of Westerners actually saw the obscene and immoral Danish cartoons of the prophet Muhammad? As offensive as they may have been to our Islamic brethren, the cartoons unearthed unsettling contradictions in the use of Holy Scriptures about sending fellow global citizens to their eternal rest by bomb-laden “martyrs.” Without the continuous challenge of conflicting ideas, the skills to consume, judge and absorb new information condemns one to yesterday’s news.

With more than two centuries governed by a Bill of Rights that protects “the freedom of speech,” Americans have acquired some skill in juggling competing ideas. There is no protected right to cry “Fire!” in a crowded theater, but a freedom to speak one’s mind has provided a healthy, if at times uncomfortable, tension in the exchange of ideas. Comedian Stephen Colbert openly roasting (some would say ridiculing) our president, who sat less than 10 feet away, is an exercise of that freedom.

Freedom of speech means some of us may be offended with the burning of our national flag by protesters, but we are all compelled, offender and offended, to stand together to defend the right to do so.

So what will become of Gautham Prasad’s “Time to Get Sexy” YouTube video? In a globally-wired world, we do have choices on what information to consume. The YouTube hit rate for “Time to Get Sexy” stands at about 35,000. On the other hand, The YouTube video “World Freehand Circle Drawing Champion” that shows Alexander Overwijk drawing a perfect freehand circle one meter in diameter in less than a second has over 1 million hits. Let’s hope geometry does not offend any race, creed or religion.

2007-01-02T21:21:00.000+05:30

Singapore

– The Last Day

We closed our trip to Singapore with adventures to the Night Safari Zoo and a visit to Sentosa Island.

The Night Safari is a highly recommended evening outing. Opened in 1994, this nocturnal zoo gives visitors a chance to see wildlife after hours in well presented natural settings. The 45 minute Disneyesque Tram Ride is the marquee attraction of the park. It has comfortable seating on a slow moving tram that plies a park road system, providing opportunities to see “endearing antics” of elephants, giraffes, tapirs, lions, tigers but no bears. Oh my! A well-rehearsed accompanying guide offers commentary in enthusiastic hushed tones.

We found the Park Walking Trails provided a more relaxed and revealing viewing of different nightlife. We watched tiny mouse deer amble about on their spindly legs, marveled at enormous bats hanging upside down noshing on fresh watermelon, spied pacing hyena, bearded pigs, heavily tusked babirusa, stalking fishing cats (above) and espied the unusually stripped East African bongo (right).

The 30 minute Creatures of the Night Show was also very well executed. Held in the outdoor amphitheatre, educated park rangers engaged their furry and slithering evening colleagues in animal shows that both entertained and educated. Our “educated park ranger” was from New York…go figure.

Sentosa Island, formerly called Blakang Mati, is a heavily built-out theme park and luxury resort on a island that was formerly part of Singapore’s coastal defensive system. At our hotel, we signed up for an island tour that included bus service and a grey-haired Singaporean guide. Our guide unknowingly offered a glimpse into the cultural attitudes of Singapore. He stressed our “personal responsibility” to be on time for each designated departure and indicated that if we failed to execute punctuality we would simply be left to fend for ourselves. Needless to say, all in our group were punctual.

The tour first took us to a large indoor exhibition called the Images of Singapore. Here, images of the Chinese, Indian, Malay and European culture were shown in lifelike displays complete with life-sized wax figures. It was a pleasant experience.

We then toured Fort Siloso on the western tip of the island. Fort Siloso contains modern displays and the remnants of the British “defensive positions” from World War II. The eight day Japanese campaign of Singapore in February 1942 demonstrated that even the best laid plans may not be adequate. Almost as bookends to this era in island’s history, the Surrender Chamber display depicted the surrender of the British to the Japanese in February 1942 shown here and the surrender of the Japanese to the British in September 1945. Our day at Sentosa Island ended with a ride on the highwire cable car back to the main island.

It was then back to the hotel and off to the airport for our trip back home to Bangalore.

2007-01-01T21:37:00.000+05:30

Singapore

– Asia for Wimps

While touring Ha Long Bay in Vietnam, we met a British family who had been Singapore residents for 12 years. They lovingly referred to Singapore as “Asia for wimps” or simply “Asia lite.” After our recent trip to Singapore we would agree. Unlike our Bangalore home, which we lovingly sometimes call “planet chaos,” with its chaotic traffic, refuse clutter and swirling masses, Singapore is a gleaming, well-ordered city. With an orchid-filled airport, sleek subway system, orderly traffic flow, immaculately clean streets and upscale shopping malls we were far from the Asia we call home.

Singapore, at the southern tip of the Malay Peninsula, is a teeming small island state of 267 sq miles with a population of 4.5 million. For comparison, the state of Rhode Island is 1,200 sq miles and has a population of 1 million. The ancient history of Singapore is sketchy. Third century Chinese writings refer to Singapore as Pu-luo-chung (island at the end of a peninsula). In the 1300’s, Javanese accounts speak of the Chinese community at Temasek, Sea Town. By the close of the 14^th century, the Sanskrit name, Singapura (Lion City) was in common usage when referring to this island trading outpost.

With its strategic location in the southern end of the Straits of Malacca, Singapore was a prized possession for warring Malay, Javanese and Thai factions until the early 17^th century. When Sir Stamford Raffles founded Singapore in 1819 for the British East Indian Company, Singapore became a gem in the “empire” upon which the sun never set.

With the confluence of oceanic steam travel and the opening of the Suez Canal in 1869, Singapore became a major coaling station and port of call along the European – East Asian travel routes. By the mid 19^th century Singapore had a population of 80,000, of which nearly 2/3 was Chinese, with smaller populations of Malay, Indians and European.

The historic influence of the Chinese culture is evident today. The population continues to be mainly Chinese, though English is the language in the city. Chinese and Malaysia signage and announcements are common in public places, however. The cuisine of the city is Asian and international. Dishes of noodle and duck vie for buyer attention along with Malay dishes of mee goreng (fried noodles) and menus from Burger King and Starbucks. The foundation of Chinese cooking is unmistakable. Where but Singapore can you can sit in an air- conditioned food mall and order from the Pig Organ Soup eatery?

Singapore appears peacefully at ease with its British history as well. The Raffles Hotel, in the old colonial district, is the premier prestige hotel in town. We stayed across the street at the more modern high-rise, Raffles the Plaza. The orderliness of centuries of Chinese culture and impeccable British etiquette has fused to form a land where littering and jaywalking are almost unknown. At intersections, people wait with resigned patience for the crossing signal to change to green…even if the street is void of any traffic! Queuing is common. Commerce fills the streets. Shopping malls on Orchard Road and elsewhere are overflowing with global goods. Among the western-like restaurants and boutiques, we found temples (both Buddhist and Hindu) and decidedly Asian street theater that provided the tug to remind us that we were still very far from home.

2007-01-01T16:31:00.000+05:30

Singapore

: Celebrating 2007 with 160,000 of our Closest Friends

We celebrated New Years in Singapore. The evening started with dinner at the Szechwan Court Chinese restaurant at our hotel, Raffles the Plaza. It is amazing to see the same zany New Year’s Eve decorations of balloons, streamers, goofy paper hats and noise makers in a Singapore restaurant that we had seen in Rome the previous year, Shanghai the year before that and in endless New Year’s Eve bashes in the US. As we all whirl about in the vastness of dark cold space on our tiny blue planet, we become less distant strangers and closer neighbors in a village with common concerns and habits as the years roll forward.

We dressed in our finest wear for the evening and anticipated closing 2006 with a marvelous meal. We were, unfortunately, very disappointed. Jay’s beef dish contained meager offerings of a wafer thin 2 ½ ounce slice of beef accommodated by a ping pong ball sized scoop of mashed potatoes. Helen’s shrimp dish was mediocre. The wine was okay. All was not lost. It was New Year’s Eve and the evening was still young.

After dinner we changed into more causal clothes and headed to the nearby esplanade at the waterfront to celebrate the opening of 2007 with 160,000 others. We walked to the waterfront and were packed among the crowd of mostly-young revelers. In typically Singaporean fashion, the crowd paused and waited for crossing signals to turn green or to be waved forward by lone traffic control officers.

At the waterfront, large screen panels were set up to display that evening’s musical distraction until the moment the fireworks would fill the sky. The harbor was filled with large white inflated balls on which people had written what we believe were remembrances of 2006 or wishes for 2007.

The arrival of 2007 was greeted with bursting fireworks and hoots and gasps of pleasure and admiration from the crowd while Helen and I shared a hug and kiss of hope and joy for the New Year.

Happy 2007! May our village be more peaceful this year.

2006-12-30T11:48:00.000+05:30

Last Days in Malaysia

On our return trip to KL from Melaka, we drove a bit north of the city to visit Batu Cave. Batu Cave is caverns inside a limestone mountain that was little known up until 100 years ago. Today, Batu Cave is the site of a Tamil Hindu temple. An enormous golden statue of Lord Murugan greets visitors. To enter, you must climb the 272 steps to the cave entrance. Once inside, you can see that the cave has two distinctive caverns, both with tall sides opened to the sky.

We missed the Thaipusam festival by a few weeks. During this festival, over a million devotees of Lord Murugan congregate at Batu Cave and engage in an incomprehensible piercing of the flesh to honor Lord Murugan. It is all very hard to understand. Statues of Hindu gods decorate the interior.

In preparation for this year’s festival, workmen were busily repainting the numbers on the steps. We climbed up and down all 272 steps under a blazing sun.

We stayed at the Renaissance Hotel, which was walking distance to the Petronas Towers. Despite what we thought was an early start the next morning, by the time we arrived at the tower to pick up two of the 800 daily free tickets to the Skywalk, there were over 100 people in line ahead of us. After standing in line for over an hour, the time slots we needed to make our tour and still catch our flight to Singapore that afternoon were gone.

The Petronas Towers are not the only tall game in town. We headed to the Menara Kuala Lumpur (Kuala Lumpur Tower). Opened in 1995, the Menara KL is the 4^th highest communication tower in the world. From its perch on Bukit Namas (Pineapple Hill) we got an unobstructed 360 degree panoramic view of KL. The Petronas Towers along with the aggressive urbanization of KL were visible everywhere.

After some more walking about the wide and mostly tree-shaded avenues for KL, we packed our bags, took the train to the airport and bid adieu to KL.

We were absolutely impressed with the prosperity of the country. The cities were clean and well maintained. We always felt safe and welcome.

To the Malaysian people we say, “Terima Kasih!” (Thank You!)

2006-12-29T22:16:00.000+05:30

Melaka – The City That Time May Forget

Melaka, once known as Malacca, located on the Straits of Melaka has a romantic history, but its modern Disney-like makeover makes it a comfortable, but possibly a forgettable tour site. There is much to see in Melaka, but if one is searching for a rustic view of Asian culture and history, another venue may be needed.

Streets bustle with private cars and are lined with fully stocked shops, first class hotels and well groomed tourist attractions. Melaka has reinvented itself from its legendary founding by the Sumatran prince Parameswara in 1390. Legend recounts that while taking rest beneath a tree, one of Parameswara’s hunting dogs cornered a small mouse-deer. The spindly legged mouse-deer met the challenge and attacked the dog. Admiring the courage of the small mouse-deer, Parameswara founded Melaka on that spot.

By the mid 1400’s, Melaka was a booming trading post for Javanese, Indian, Arab, Persian and Chinese merchants. Melaka’s trading success attracted the attention of the Portuguese. In 1511, they succeeded in capturing the city. They built A Famosa, or Porta De Santiago, to protect their possession. The defensive strategy worked for 130 years, until the Dutch displaced the Portuguese. Control passed back and forth between the Dutch and the British. With independence in 1957, control once again returned to local citizens.

With such a past the people of Melaka emerged with a distinctive Peranakan culture. Peranakan in Malay means “descendants” and the Chinese descendents from original traders fashioned their own traditions, dress and foods. Male descendants are call Babas; females Nyonyas or Nonyas. We visited the privately operated Baba-Nonya Heritage Museum for a delightful guided tour of a once very prosperous Baba-Nonya home. Rich Chinese embroidered artwork hung from the walls and Italian tile graced the floor. English dishware and flatware were displayed with a 100+ year unopened bottle of brandy.

From there we walked the short distance to the river quay to tour a replica of the Portuguese merchant ship, Flora de la Mar. Freed of internal decking, we were amazed at the ship’s enormous cargo capacity. The museum-ship’s air-conditioned interior held displays in English and Malaysian on the history of the Melakan trade and the duties levied that made this river quay such a prosperous enterprise for those who possessed it.

We then headed inland to visit the hilltop ruins of St. Paul’s Church. Built in 1521 by the Portuguese, the Dutch reclaimed it and buried their dead beneath carved flooring slabs. The church is but a shell today. A few tombstones rest against the interior walls providing a backdrop to merchants and musicians. The location of the temporary burial site of St. Francis Xavier is not officially marked, but the metal caging over an open pit in the church appears to “protect” this sacred ground.

We visited the fragmentary remains of the Portuguese A Famosa and then idled some time in a nearby Mega Shopping Mall and the Bamboo Hut Restaurant, awaiting nightfall to watch the nearby Sound & Light Show. From the restaurant we watched the parade of highly decorated pedicabs, some with blaring sound systems, transporting tourists along the neat brick esplanade. Alas, we discovered the Sound & Light show was cancelled for this evening. We strolled back to the Mekala Renaissance, enjoying the cool night air, then prepared for our return trip to KL the next day.

2006-12-28T14:19:00.000+05:30

Kuala Lumpur – Tower Envy

Our stay at the JW Marriott in KL was a brief one night. After our driving tour from Kuala Selangor it was a pleasant way to end the day by being escorted to our spacious club level 17^th floor room. Benefiting from Jay’s Marriott’s point and Gold status we found ourselves treated to royal Asian service.

When we opened the curtains in our sitting room, we were treated by the glowing images of the twin Petronas Towers. The Petronas Towers opened in 1998 and is occupied primarily by the government-run energy Petronas company. Built of glass, steel and concrete, the tapering towers reflect the Islamic influence on Malaysian architecture in the polygonal plan. Despite its conservative Islamic nature, the towers became Hollywood “stars” in the 1999 action thriller "Entrapment" providing stars Sean Connery and Catherine Zeta Jones a breathtaking, gravity-defying backdrop.

Only the double decked sky bridge on the 41^st and 42^nd floors is open to the public. You must arrive well before the 8:00am ticket window opening to a get one of the 800 free daily tickets.

Topping out at 1483 ft, the Petronas Towers laid claimed title to the “world’s tallest building” until 2003. With the opening of 1671 ft. Taipei 101 (Financial Tower), the Petronas Towers slipped to 2^nd place. The boasting rights to the world’s tallest building will change again in 2008, when the Burj Dubai tower opens. That tower will reach an incredible 2313 ft. into the heavens.

To put things in perceptive, The Eiffel tower is 986 ft tall and the Empire State Building stretches 1250 ft. above the ground. The World Trade Towers in New York City (left) reached a height of 1614 feet before their terrible destruction in 2001. The proposed Freedom Tower (right) that will stand on the old footings of the World Trade Towers is engineered to reach a more American iconic height of 1776 feet.

Back to KL. The next morning we had breakfast in the club lounge, took a few more snaps of the Petronas Towers and prepared to drive to Melaka.

2006-12-27T18:58:00.000+05:30

Kuala Selangor

On Wednesday, we caught a mid morning flight from the sparkling Penang Airport to the sparkling Kuala Lumpur International Airport (KLIA). Before picking up our rental car at KLIA, we took advantage of the free WiFi access at the airport. Internet access to our US based e-mail providers was so slow it was useless. We later learned that the 7.1 magnitude earthquake on Sunday off Taiwan’s southern coast had significantly damaged the undersea telecommunication cables. The event reminded us just how much we depend on the invisible technology of the Internet.

With rental car keys in hand, Helen slid bravely into the driver’s seat of our Hyundai Elantra. She quickly mastered the right hand side steering wheel. The first thing that immediately struck us was the fabulous Malaysian roads. We have become accustomed to the rutted, pothole-filled roads of India. Malaysia has moved in its 50 years of independency from opening new highways to improving and widening existing roads.

From the airport we headed northwest to Kuala Selangor, an unremarkable city off the tourist track. Our intent this day was to tour Bukit Malawati and the nature park of Taman Alam and enjoy an evening at the Firefly Park in nearby Bukit Belimbing.

Bukit Malawati is a well maintained park and home of Kota Malawati. This old and now barely recognizable military enclave was built by Sultan Ibrahim in the late 1700s. The main entertainment of the park is looking at the fabulous views from this hilltop and watching the monkeys. The monkeys have acquired such a familiarity with people that they easily mingle with throngs of kids milling about them, accepting or snatching food offerings.

Taman Alam is a well-maintained nature walking park. We toured the forest trails, bird watched (as least tried) from the observation tower, saw two otters swimming in a stream and generally enjoyed the serenity of a landscape free of planes, trains and automobiles.

Rainy weather that afternoon meant our intended tour of the Firefly Park would need to be postponed to another day. As darkness fell, we headed back to KL.

Finding the JW Marriott in the center of KL in the dark without a sufficiently detailed map was difficult. Getting directions from gas station mini mart attendants with limited English was a challenge. Luck prevailed and we found ourselves in the city flowing with one way traffic down Jalan Bukit Bintang seeking our hotel. Balancing the distractions of glowing city lights and the pillars of the downtown monorail, Helen drove slightly past the hotel entrance. With no vehicles behind her, she put the car into reverse, nudged a few No Parking signs and gratefully accepted the offer of valet parking from the hotel doorman. Our adventures that day had come to an end.

2006-12-26T21:20:00.000+05:30

Pulau Pinang – Day 2 Gardens and Temples

We started our second day of touring with the assistance of Nathan, a taxi driver we had met the previous day. A native born citizen, Nathan added color commentary to our trip.

The first stop was the beautiful Taman Botani, Botanical Garden. The garden, a short drive from Georgetown, is a peaceful sanctuary for walkers, runners, Tai Chi devotees and playful monkeys. We strolled the restful grounds visiting the Rumah Kaktus (cactus house) and Rumah Orkid (orchid house) as well as the Taman Formal (formal garden).

Soon after departing we diverted to a nearby batik shop. Batik is an ancient Asian art form that uses wax and colored dyes to create beautiful artwork on fabric. Helen was educated in several ways to wear batik prints, with and without ties, and happily made a purchase of both.

Next on our sightseeing list was a “temple tour.” Although Islam is the predominant religion of the native Malays, Penang has a historic mix of Asian and European religions. The Thai temple of Wat Chayamangkalaram was our first stop. The temple was built in 1845 on land donated to the Thai community by Queen Victoria. Greeting us at the temple entrance were two towering green-faced guards reminiscent of the giant statues we saw in the new Bangkok airport. The temple boasts of housing the world’s third largest Reclining Buddha. More research indicated that the 33 meter resting Buddha is actually the 14^th largest. Once inside the temple, Buddha ranking seemed irrelevant.

The reclining Buddha represents Shakyamuni Buddha at his death. Legend recalls that as death approached, the Buddha asked his disciples to prepare a couch for him in a grove. There he lay until he passed into nirvana. Not surprisingly, the temple houses a columbarium of the remains for former devotees who have also passed into nirvana.

Across the street from Wat Chayamangkalaram is the Dharmikarama Burmese Buddhist Temple. Consecrated in 1805, it was first Buddhist temple in Penang. The grounds of the temple which won the Penang State landscaping and beautification competition in 2001 are spacious and serene. The temple complex is filled with golden statuary and buildings.

Next on the temple tour was the Kek Lok Si Temple. The expansive temple is built on the east-facing hillside of Air Itam. Also known as the Temple of Supreme Bliss, the temple has distinctively Chinese architecture, but has ties to both China and Thailand. The temple, constructed between 1893 and 1905, is currently under renovation. The towering ''Pagoda of Ten Thousand Buddhas,'' once the main attraction, now stands in the shadow of the 120 foot bronze statue of Guan Yin Boddisattva. The 200 feet high pavilion roof that will enclose the enormous statue will be supported by 16 dragon pillars. We understand the true purpose of commemorating the Bodhisattva is to follow his spirit of practicing “Great compassion to all beings as one unit. Kindness to all beings without discrimination”. Amen…Shalom…May it be so.

2006-12-26T07:17:00.000+05:30

Pulau Pinang – Day 2 Turf and Surf

Our touring day on Penang Island included a ride up the Swiss-modeled funicular railway to the top of Penang Hill. An early attempt in 1906 to provide rail service from the humid lowlands to the cooling breezes of Penang Hill was unsuccessful. Another attempt at rail service to the top of Penang Hill, also known as Bukit Bendara (Flag Hill), was organized by the Straits Settlement government after the First World War. That service opened in October 1923 and was an immediate success. There have been a few hitches over the years, though. Most recently, in April 2005, a load of tourists was trapped on the hill for three hours when a brake malfunctioned. However, great attention is paid to safety and the maintenance of the rail service.

On busy holiday weekends, tickets must be purchased in advance. An attendant in the waiting room at the base of the hill ushers passengers at their appointed time into one of the five compartments of the rail car. The ride to the top of Bukit Bandera takes 30 minutes and requires a change of trains midway. From the 2,750 ft. peak one has a marvelous panoramic view of Georgetown.

Much like the days of British rule when hills stations conjured up images of health, relaxation and fun, today’s Bukit Bendera is home to several hotels, eating areas, attractions, small shops as well as a mosque and Indian temple. Standing at the summit one still gets the feeling sought in the old British days of an escape from the heat and teeming masses of the lowlands.

From Bukit Bendera we headed to the north island beach resort of Batu Ferringhi. Thirty years ago when Jay visited Batu Ferringhi on the recommendation of a Peace Corps worker, he found long stretches of lonely beach. He remembered visiting Lone Pine Hotel and that became our last destination for the day.

The once long stretches of lonely beach are now occupied by sprawling upscale multi-story hotels and resorts. But the Lone Pine Hotel was still there pretty much in its original low two story structured form. We walked the beach as lovers hand-in-hand as the sun slowly set. A young girl road a horse along the beach, led by a handler and we saw someone parasailing. The serenity of the moment, however, was sacrificed to the roar of rented four wheelers by a father son duo peeling up and down the beach.

Our dinner meal at the al fresco restaurant called The Bungalow at the Lone Pine was just okay. The service was below average. The highlight of the evening was Helen, who had changed from her touring garb to one of her new batik wraps.

We sipped drinks in the cool evening shore breeze and gave thanks to the wonderful life we have. More adventure awaited us as we planned to head back to KL the next day, rent a car and drive the Malacca.

2006-12-25T07:47:00.000+05:30

Pulau Pinang – Day 1

Our nine day trip to Malaysia and Singapore started with an early morning Christmas Day flight from Bangalore to Kuala Lumpur (a.k.a. KL) where we caught a short flight north to the island of Penang. By noon we were checked into our room in the Penang Sheraton and ready to explore the island city of Georgetown.

Western contact with the island of Penang, Pulau Pinang, was made in 1786 when Francis Light founded a British trading post. By the late 1700s the Portuguese, Dutch, French and British had “discovered” much of Asia and were busy establishing their eastern empires. Penang would later join with Malacca (Melaka) and Singapore to form the British crown colony called the Straits Settlements. The Straits Settlements ceased to exist by 1946. Malaysian independence from the British emerged in 1957.

Yet despite the pull of the 21^st century to modernize, Georgetown has made an effort to retain its colonial charm. That charm was in full bloom, although a bit worn, 30 years ago when Jay completed his university studies in Penang. As we walked the streets of Georgetown we could see renovation underway to restore crumbling building facades and retain the historic beauty of the city.

However, much has changed from Jay’s first visit. The once-spry 1,000+ penarik beca (pedicab drivers) that were the backbone of the city transportation system are now aged men in their 60’s who slumber in their trishaws waiting for the occasional tourist fare. Malaysian-built Proton air-conditioned taxis are the new transportation backbone along with a dizzying array of private vehicles.

The sixty-foot high Victorian Clock Tower built in 1897 to honor the queen's Diamond Jubilee has weathered time remarkably well, but now shares its landscape in the historic section of Georgetown with a modern metal sculpture.

We walked through Little India. The swirling pungent aromas of Tamil food mixed in the air with Hindi songs blaring from open store fronts gave us a chance to be “home” again. We even recognized the Bollywood stars plastered on street posters.

The fort, situated on the northeastern tip of the island, was originally constructed by Francis Light. The fort is a well maintained tourist attraction with a RM (Ringgit Malaysian) 3.00 (75 cents) adult admission. We walked the ramparts and inner parade grounds. Old barracks rooms were converted into air-conditioned display rooms that covered the history of the island and fort. One display brought home why the orient had such an enticing pull on the Portuguese, Dutch, French and British. Stacked as they would have been at the time of Francis Light were sacks of lada putih & hitam (white & black pepper), jintan putih (cumin) and the other exotic spices such as kayu manis (cinnamon). Imagine French toast without a healthy topping of kayu manis. Our world really went “flat” long before Tom Friedman “discovered” its flatness.

2006-12-24T18:26:00.000+05:30

Not Home for the Holidays

We will be going off line from our blog for 10 days as we head out from Bangalore for the Christmas / New Year’s holidays. We have visits planned in Malaysia in the capital Kuala Lumpur (KL), Penang Island, Malacca (Melaka) and Singapore.

Hope you all have a Merry Christmas, a wonderful holiday season and a Happy New Year

2006-12-23T19:41:00.000+05:30

Caste – Forever Inscrutable

We have lived in India now for 15 months. What was once foreign is now common. Yet our understanding of the caste system remains illusive. Newspaper stories of a new government quota for the Other Backward Castes (OBCs) in premier government educational institutions evokes protests. In America, the mention of affirmative action fuels emotions. We suspect “reservation” is the hot button in India. And who are the OBCs?

From study we understand that there are five major castes in India and thousands of sub castes. Each major caste has a social role: Brahman – priests/teacher; Kshatriya - warrior/landowner; Vaishya – merchants; Shudra – artisans/agriculturalists; Harijans -dalits or untouchables. When this social stratification emerged is unknown by us, but the 1950 Indian constitution outlawed the caste system. Although legally banned, generations of hereditary caste discrimination still exists.

The topic of reservations has roiled since the British Raj. The Indian government in the 1950’s and again in 1979 with the Mandal Commission continued the counting of Indian’s “depressed people” as well as arousing the controversy. Attempts to implement Mandal’s recommendations sparked a Delhi University student to threaten self-immolation. The controversy ultimately caused the fall of Prime Minister Singh.

We understand bits and pieces. Enshrined in the Indian constitution are reservations for Scheduled Castes and Scheduled Tribes. Scheduled Castes (SCs) include those once known as untouchables, now called Dalits, but also known by Mahatma Gandhi as Harijan, children of God. Scheduled Tribes (STs) are aboriginal people. The Mandal Commission using 11 socioeconomic markers classified Other Backward Classes as "castes/classes considered as socially backward by others." We stayed confused.

Whether driven by social idealism or political machinations, membership in an official SC/ST or OBC brings reserved access to government jobs and seats in public learning institutions. Unintended consequence spring forth. Some consider the Christian population undercounted, as converted Dalits remain un-enumerated Christians to maintain their reservation “privilege.”

On the other hand, conversion can be the threat to secure equal access. Recently 3,000 Dalits of Keredagada village threatened conversion to Buddhism if Brahman opposition barring them from the Jagannath temple was not dropped. Buddhism may have been a nod to Dr.B.R. Ambedkar’s conversion to Buddhism. Ambedkar, born a Dalit in 1891, rose to prominence as a jurist, a Dalit-rights movement leader converted to Buddhism in search of "equal status, equal rights and fair treatment" for the untouchables. More recently, another Dalit jurist, without the need for conversion, K.G. Balakrishnan, was appointed the 37^th Chief Justice of the Indian Supreme Court. Dalit = poor / Brahman = rich….just is not necessarily so….but more common than not. Who’s right?

As in the US, opinions fly between reservation and merit. Dalits and backward communities are painted as devoid of merit and the Forward Castes as meritorious.

If the Brahmans (priests/teachers) are so meritorious, Dr. Ambedkar’s website (http://www.ambedkar.org) begs, why then is half of India illiterate? Hmmmm. You can understand why our understanding of the caste system remains illusive.

2006-12-21T16:59:00.000+05:30

Wal-Mart Knocks on Front Door of India

Bangalore booms with jobs fed by US and European businesses’ ravenous appetite to trim labor costs. It is a tricky balancing act for us to be part of this readjustment of the global economy. Is this movement of jobs part of the natural maturing of older economies and the rise of new economies? We arrived in Atlanta 20 years ago to see the last throes of the farm economy of the South give way to a booming consumer and technology services economy. What is the natural order?

We may yet witness the natural order in India as the inevitable rise in economic prosperity brings retail giants to feast on some of that prosperity.

With $316B USD in revenue, Wal-mart is iconic in the retail industry. Equally iconic is the impact a Wal-Mart Superstore has on local retailing. Communities have watched newly opened Wal-Marts decimate mom and pop stores and well-established national and regional chain stores. We all have faced the tricky balancing act between everyday low prices and the lost service from the owner of a well-worn locally owned hardware store.

In India, mega retailing does not exist. Everywhere in India, in every village and city, there is a proliferation of small retail shops…most under 500 sq. ft. In this land of 1.1 billon people, it is estimated that there are 11 shops per 1,000 people. In the US, that ratio is 4 shops per 1,000 people. Even in the UK, once derided by Napoleon as a nation of shopkeepers, the ratio is 5 shops per 1,000 people.

The small retail shops of India, classified as being in the “unorganized retail” sector, provide employment for nearly 40 million people. The giants are rattling at the gates, however. The French retailer Carrefour, which is the second largest global retailer behind Wal-Mart, is coming, but announced it was slowing plans to enter the Indian market. Wal-Mart has penetrated the massive market in China (http://www.wal-martchina.com/english/index.htm) and understands that India is a different market. A Wal-Mart representative indicated that, despite the enormous red tape in entering the Indian market, Wal-Mart “will just keep coming back because of its unbelievable potential.” India’s biggest retailer, Mumbai-based “Pantaloon” is expanding rapidly, trying to stay ahead of the entry by global giants.

The entry of global retailers may have another impact on the economy, not directly related to the small retail shops that they will overshadow. In countries such as Brazil and South Africa, the large retail chains control 50 – 75% of the food retail. For small, dispersed farmers and product packaging companies in India, the stringent quality control and packaging demands of these multinational outlets will be very hard to meet.

So how will India respond to the other side of the sword of globalization? Jobs do roll in, but so do the retailers in search of those displaced dollars. A tricky balancing act will have to be faced when blue light specials come to India.

2006-12-18T14:10:00.000+05:30

A Day with the Sukrupa Gang

Through Helen’s membership in the Overseas Women’s Club here in Bangalore, she volunteers at a non-government organization (NGO) called Sukrupa. Sukrupa, founded in 2000 by mother Sugana and daughter Krupa, is dedicated to helping underprivileged slum children escape poverty, illiteracy, and ignorance. Sukrupa provides these children a future filled with hope and bright expectations. Each day 230 children visit Sukrupa for before and after school services, a meal and a chance to see a world filled with love, care and a dedication to their future. For eleven of these children, home is with Krupa and brother Sathya.

This past weekend, we inched forward our involvement in this noble effort and hosted nine of the 11 residential children for a day of fun, frolicking and another home filled with love, care and a budding dedication to their future. We also wanted to give Su, Krupa and Sathya a gift of a day off from… a small reward for the outpouring of their generous hearts.

We arrived at Sukrupa Saturday morning to the bustle and cacophony of the center filled with young minds and bodies in motion. Su and Sathya assembled our young wards for the day. At our request, a small name tag was pinned to each child with our mobile phone number. We had the enormous help of Sony with this passel of youngsters from 3 to 12 years old. Sony is seventeen, articulate, smart and poised, and carries the enormous responsibility of caring for her three younger siblings and the other residential children with grace.

Our first adventure was to fit the Sukrupa gang, ourselves and driver into our midsized Qualis SUV-like car. Amazingly, six wiggling bodies fit easily into the four seat rear compartment. Sony and Helen sat with two others in the backseat and 3 year old Anna Marie sat in Jay’s lap in the front seat with our driver.

Our first stop was Bal Bhavan Children’s Playground at Cubbon Park. The playground is filled with swings, monkey bars, seesaws and just open space where kids can run.

Next was the park’s boat ride around a smallish green water pond. For kids just three feet tall, however, the pond was an ocean and the small pontoon-pulled raft an ocean liner.

More small rides and a ride on the park’s train closed our day at Cubbon Park.

Our next stop was lunch at KFC on busy Brigade Road.

From lunch it was back into the Qualis for the trip to the upscale Forum shopping mall. At the Forum, there was window shopping, cookies from the Cookie Man and marveling at the mall’s Christmas decorations.

Back at our apartment, we put The Little Mermaid DVD in our player. Some watched, others dozed. Then it was dinner followed by the hour long ride back home to Sukrupa.

It was a small gesture to keep hope alive and well amid the sea of want here in India.

2006-12-17T12:23:00.000+05:30

Seasons Greetings from Bangalooru

2006 has been a year filled with ups and downs, mostly take-offs and landings! For the most part, we enjoy our life in India.

We have an active social life in Bangalore made possible by the Overseas Women’s Club (OWC). We met our closest friends, Rich and Marion Arnold, through the OWC. We have taken two trips with our Maine friends. The first was a long weekend to Coorg to tour tea and coffee plantations. The second was a five-day trip to Kerala that included a 24 hour boat trip through Kerala’s backwaters and an evening enjoying traditional Kathakali dancers. Both trips were marvelous adventures.

I also immersed myself in the world of Indian dentistry. During a trip to the US in March, three teeth required caps and the payment of a costly bill. Upon our return to Bangalore, pain with a wisdom tooth caused me to seek a local dentist. The search for local care ended with Dr. Sharon Dias who capped it and another cracked tooth and also replaced two 30 year old bridges. I am extremely happy with the beautiful work and delighted with the low price. Medical tourism is real.

For three days in April we watched from our balcony as an unrecognizable religious festival unfolded to a more recognizable public party. Despite the blaring of rhythmic Bollywood beats from stage musicians, when we mingled with our neighbors we found ourselves among people rooted in the ground like stone pillars; no swaying, clapping or smiling. When the music switched to a cha cha beat, we swayed and shuffled and soon were in full cha cha 1-2-3 movement. The crowd opened and the stage spot light swung to illuminate us. The crowd was now swaying, clapping and filled with smiles. The organizers invited us on stage to dance in front of 300 of our closest friends! We received a basket of fruit, a dance trophy and a round of applause.

Our Saturday Night Live performance was followed up by a dance contest held at an OWC 50’s party two weeks later. I was prim and proper in my red polka-dot dress and pearls; Jay was a 50’s geek equipped with taped eyeglasses, a pocket protector and an “I Like Ike” button. A combination of cha cha, rumba and east coast swing won us that evening’s dance contest!

In May, Karen arrived in India for a month long visit. Jay unfortunately had to return to the US on business for three weeks, but I enjoyed with Karen a new look at our home here in India. We traveled by the Indian train system to the ancient ruins in Hampi. At the Bannerghatta Zoo we noted the birds were caged but the monkeys ran free! Upon Jay’s return, we flew to the Golden Triangle; Delhi, Jaipur and Agra. The crown jewel of the trip, of course, was the Taj Mahal. It was a fabulous trip.

In July we were tourists in England for 10 days, taking in Windsor Castle, Big Ben, Tower of London, the British Museum as well as Shakespeare at the Globe Theater and Mel Brook’s The Producers…nothing like our lives in Bangalore. We visited an OWC alum and dear friend, Anna Oldman, who had returned to her 260 year old cottage in Stroud.

In August, I attended the Lange Family Reunion in Saginaw, Michigan, visiting with family members including my Aunt Lorna, who turned 100 that month.

Back in Bangalore, an OWC friend, Bryony Lewis, introduced me and several other OWC gals to the ukulele. We took some lessons and enjoy this unexpected musical adventure. We are self-named the Bangalore Ukulele Band, or BUB, and we call ourselves the BUBettes. And do we have fun!

In October Rich, Marion, Jay and I had planned to take another trip together to Vietnam. Events overtook us and we traveled separately. We had a marvelous eight day adventure in Hanoi and Ho Chi Minh City (Saigon).

Back home in Bangalore in November, I was involved in the OWC Christmas Bazaar; the biggest fund raiser of the year. The bazaar had 140 vendors, a Santa, a horse-pulled cart ride for the kids, raffles, and food. I was the Parking and Security coordinator and recruited over 80 volunteers who helped collect entrance and parking fees and direct traffic. Overall, the bazaar raised three lakh rupees ($6500). All this money will be distributed to the 26 charities we support.

Also in November Jay and I traveled back to the US for an eight day visit. Jay worked in Philadelphia, but we had a chance to have a post-Thanksgiving / pre-Christmas gathering with our children in Atlanta the following weekend.

We continue to share our gifts here in India with an OWC-supported organization called Sukrupa Community Center. Sukrupa feeds and educates 230 slum children daily. I volunteer on a weekly basis and we support them financially. If you’d like to learn more about it, go to http://www.sukrupa.com/.

This Christmas we are headed to Malaysia for 10 days. For New Years Eve we will be at the Raffles the Plaza in Singapore.

What a wonderful, exciting life we have! If you want to read more about our adventures, please visit our blog at http://www.beinginbangalore.blogspot.com/.

We hope that you are happy, healthy and have friends or family with whom you can share the holidays.

Best wishes for a 2007 filled with contentment.

Jay & Helen

2006-12-05T20:43:00.000+05:30

Home for the Holidays

In late November, we took advantage of one of Jay’s short business trips to travel back to Atlanta. Jay left Thanksgivings Day, first to visit his mom and brother in New Jersey, and then work the following week in Philadelphia. Helen lingered a few more days in Bangalore to complete her volunteer responsibilities at the Overseas Women’s Club (www.owcbangalore.org) Christmas Bazaar. Helen flew directly to Atlanta where we eventually met up to have a post-Thanksgiving / pre-Christmas weekend with our children and a few friends.

Whenever business travel takes Jay to New York or Philadelphia, he visits his 84 year old mother in Livingston, NJ. The Livingston home, built by Jay’s mom and dad over 50 years ago, is a small, comfortable dwelling and a testament to the energy and hope that filled 1st generation Polish immigrants to America. Upon his arrival, Jay was greeted with the expected hug from his mom, a roast beef dinner and an unexpected published book outlining seven generations of his family tree. A labor of love by his cousin Louis Prontnicki, the book traces generations of hard-working Polish peasants. It celebrates the decision made at the dawn of the 20th century by never-seen great-grandparents to book passage for a son (Jay’s grandfather) on a steamer bound for Ellis Island in New York Harbor.

This Christmas additional thanks will be offered to those who labored for another generation’s good fortune. We all enjoy the shade of trees we did not plant and drink from wells we did not dig.

Jay’s visit with his brother in western New Jersey was a stopover in a place where God has retirement property. Keith, a software engineer / gentleman farmer, and his architect wife, Ellen, built their country home 25 years ago amid the rolling hills of the Garden State. Jay’s visit was a time to deliver hay, collect stones for the homestead rock wall and savor a view of farmland Jay’s grandfather may have seen.

Back in Atlanta, Helen organized the Christmas decorating. There was also shopping, wrapping presents and the preparation of the family gathering meal.

The children are all doing well. Sean is completing his undergraduate work at Georgia State and looking forward to advancing his anthropology studies in graduate school. After finishing two years at a junior college, Karen will continue her business studies at Georgia State University. Eric continues at American Honda Finance. With a strange twist to the few degrees that separate all of us, Eric works on a corporate software system Jay implemented on a consulting assignment in California. Tamami, the young Japanese widow of Jay’s elder son Kevin, obtained her green card and looks forward to nursing studies at Georgia State. We are a blessed family.

Christmas lights were hung with care outside and the large Christmas

wreath hoisted above our door. But before you can say Kris Kringle, we were back aboard a Delta flight headed home to Bangalore. One can never anticipate the joys and adventure that life may offer….

2006-11-18T12:03:00.000+05:30

The Vision Behind the Awards

Our visit to the Government Model Primary School and Pearl Valley Resort on Saturday was at the invitation of Sai Prakash. Sai is an accomplished business professional who is wise from a combination of advanced education, life experiences and wide travels. His achievements have provided him a comfortable life. What more could be desired? The answer to that question unfolded as we discovered Sai’s inner heart’s desire to share his gifts.

We first met Sai in early October when we attended an interfaith service at the Ashirad. As Unitarian Universalists (UU’s), we are on a spiritual quest. Armed only with our religious principles and faith in the rewards of a free and responsible search for truth and meaning, we mingle here among those steeped in Hinduism and Islam.

That meeting in October at the Ashirad was a continuation of our religious odyssey in India. We have visited temples, churches, evangelical hand-clapping meetings, sought invitations to mosques, but not until that Sunday afternoon in October did we find people, like ourselves, who had ventured on a road less traveled. The people there discussed how we could make the world a better place and bring greater harmony to our communities. We had met fellow UU’s. Business cards were exchanged between Sai and Jay, as well as promises to keep in touch.

A month later we were driving on the muddy, winding roads south of Bangalore to Anekal to visit the primary school and Pearl Valley Resort. Pearl Valley was an earlier vision to create an economically viable spa and resort among the small villages and cultivated teak forests. That vision failed. Opportunism replaced the vision and Pearl Valley became seedy and the venue for alcohol consumption, gambling and prostitution. Sai and personal friends purchased the closed grounds of Pearl Valley.

Their vision is to be economically viable, but more importantly, to transform Pearl Valley into a center of learning and hope among the people living and working in the villages and teak forests. It is here where community events could be held to bring aspiration to children who see far more alcoholism and dreariness than they should. On this Saturday, just a few weeks after the purchase of Pearl Valley, an award ceremony was held and trophies distributed for competitions held the day before. The children competed in events like leap frog, races, odd-even counting…simple challenges…small steps to begin the longer journey.

We reacquainted ourselves with Bob Hoekstra, a former seven-year resident in Bangalore from Holland and fellow guest at last year’s Thanksgiving dinner. Bob is one of Sai’s generous backers. After the ceremony, we ate lunch and then there was a group discussion with some of the village leaders on how to solve the problem of providing transportation for village students to attend high school.

We shared with Sai the vision fellow UU’s held in their hearts long ago when they purchased an old decaying summer camp on a mountain top in North Carolina. Their dream was to be economically viable, but more importantly, to provide a venue for hope, learning and community. The Mountain has been that center for 30 years. It is where we, Jay and Helen, first met that started a six year journey to our eventual marriage.

It is wonderful to know another visionary who will leave a lasting legacy to many he will never meet.

2006-11-18T11:00:00.000+05:30

Back to School

By the unusual threads that form the fabric of our lives, we found ourselves Saturday morning at the Government Model Primary School in Anekal Tuluk, about an hour’s drive south of Bangalore. The invitation to be guests at the school was part of a larger invitation to also attend a village awards ceremony organized by the philanthropic efforts of a small circle of visionaries headed by Sai Prakash. More on the awards ceremony in another blog; now back to school!

We suspect the Government Model Primary School we visited is like many schools in India. The small teaching staff is caring, the children bright-eyed and the educational resources merger. Students attend school six days a week. The Monday through Friday school schedule is 10:30 am to 4:30 pm. On Saturday the schedule shifts from 7:30 am to 11:30 am.

We arrived around 11:00 am as the children were eating their government supplied lunch of rice, dal (lentils), onions, curry, chilies and tomatoes. After meeting the headmaster and the teaching staff, they organized the students for a group photo. Without fail, we have found that a camera acts as a magnet for kids. Once the camera is sighted, kids magically collect in tight circles, act a bit giddy, wait for the shutter snap and then paw the camera for a look at the instantly displayed image.

The teaching staff then motioned us to sit in the “computer lab” comprised of two older model HP and Compaq desktops. There is no Internet access (or telephone) at this rural school. The students showed us with pride their computer skills, making an excellent image of the Indian national flag in Paintbrush and demonstrated their mastery of Kannada grammar from an instructional CD. The students are native Kannada speakers. We were greatly impressed with their ability to work Romanized lettered keyboards and add commentary to their work in English.

Some of the children then sang songs, performed orations and danced for us. We enjoyed their energy-filled performances for 30 minutes. Afterwards, we shook hands with students and exchanged our good names. “My name is Priya. What is your good name?” We then lunched on the same fare provided to the children.

Outside we marveled at the instructional messages painted on the outside walls of the school. There were pictures of plants, animals, the English alphabet and the evolutionary emergence of man. Aside: There is no discussion of intelligent design that we can detect outside the US. The depiction of the solar system was also updated to the highest and latest scientific standards. The heavenly body, formerly known as the Planet Pluto, was scratched out.

Photos of the staff were taken, the nursery school visited and more thanks given for honoring us as guests.

Accompanied by some of the teaching staff, we were then off on the muddy village roads to the awards ceremony organized by Sai, our host for the day.

2006-11-04T16:50:00.000+05:30

Nandi Hills

Nandi Hills, a towering pair of hills 65 kms. north of Bangalore, is a must-see local sight. Judging by the foothill temples built by the 9^th century Bana rulers, it appears the broad flat plain, overlooked by the 4,800 ft. high twin peaks, has been on the must-see list for centuries. Subsequent Hindu temple builders from the Chola, Hoysala and Vijayanagar empires continued to be drawn to these majestic hills.

Our visit to Nandi Hills was to see the remnants of the hilltop fortification built by the more recent Islamic dynastic rulers, Hyder Ali and his son, Tippu Sultan. Built in the late 18^th century, summer homes, tanks (water reservoirs) and ramparts were constructed to defend this strategic location. Ownership of the hilltops and the valley below changed hands in 1791 when British forces under the command of Lord Cornwallis defeated Tippu Sultan’s fortress garrison. The hilltop then saw the building of a British bungalow for Sir Mark Cubbon. Finally, time and independence returned the hilltop to Indian rule. Cubbon’s bungalow is now a guesthouse with a statue of Nehru prominently displayed outside in the lush garden.

The first adventure to Nandi Hills is the drive from Bangalore. The 40 mile trek took over two hours. With the construction of Bangalore’s new international airport in nearby Davanahalli, new road systems will soon replace the jarring roads of today. Remaining after the airport opening in 2008 with its current “rutted charm” will be the short stretch of road from the airport to the base of Nandi Hills. Also remaining will be the winding switchbacks with numbered curves that snake up the hillside to the fortress.

The grounds of the hilltop containing temples, fortress remnants and the head waters for the Pennar, Palar and Arkavati Rivers is more rustic than we expected. The vistas and the sense of history one gets as you walk along the ramparts studded with cannon and musket ports are more magical than we imagined.

A bit of unexpected whimsy was added to our visit of one of Tippu Sultan’s summer residences by the playful antics by the many monkeys. Perched high atop one wall was a youthful monkey with his head tucked neatly into a coconut shell, attempting to remove the last bit of coconut meat. The shell eventually came crashing down not far from us, either by careless happenstance or a practiced habit of cracking the shell to acquire the last morsel inside. More monkeys were found elsewhere climbing, sitting, preening or just playfully looking at us. Where’s a barrel when you need one? Interestingly, when the camera was pulled out for a close up, shyness was the order of the day.

2006-11-01T16:42:00.000+05:30

Bengaluru-ed

There is more change for Americans who weathered the storms that turned industrial heartlands into Rust Belts. With a “can do” attitude, those Americans re-trained for the Information Age, only to see those high tech jobs shipped offshore to India. Once Bangalore’d, they will now be Bengaluru’ed.

With a mixture of state pride, adroit political exploitation, language chauvinism and impeccable timing, effective November 1, 2006 the process to rename Bangalore Bengaluru began. There are several forces that provided the impetus for the renaming of the globally- branded Bangalore.

Changing names used by the former British overlords has been in motion in India for some time. Madras changed to Chennai in 1996; Bombay changed to Mumbai 1998, Calcutta to Kolkata in 2001. During the Golden Jubilee anniversary celebration of the formation of the state of Karnataka on November 1, 2006, the Chief Minister H. D. Kumaraswamy announced the renaming of six state cities: Bangalore (Bengaluru), Mysore (Mysuru), Mangalore (Mangaluru), Belgaum (Belgavi), Shimoga (Shivamogga) and Hospet (Hosapete).

Bengaluru is the Kannada pronunciation of the city name. An enjoyable and often repeated myth about the original naming of city dates to the 1300’s. The legend recounts that Hoysala King Vira Ballala became lost while on hunting trip. He found refuge in the hut of an old woman. The old woman offered the king cooked beans to sate his hunger. In his gratitude, the king named the location Benda Kaal Ooru (Town of Boiled Beans). Usage eventually smoothed Benda Kaal Ooru to Bengalooru.

Regardless of origins, the British, full of their own beans, renamed the city Bangalore. IT mavens put Bangalore on the global map.

There is much to be said and admired about national and language pride. Southern Indian states are divided along language groups. Politicians give serious consideration to the state of the state language. Swept into office six months ago on a bold re-alignment of power, Kuramaswamy’s coalition government is keenly aware of the political significance of the renaming. Announcing the name changes before a crowd of 35,000 Kannadiga celebrants in Chinnaswamy Stadium was political drama Carl Rove wishes he could again command.

Ironically, due to the enormous influx of out-of-state Indians and expats to Bangalore, native Kannada speakers (Kannadigas) account for only 30 – 40% of the population. Mostly marginalized from high tech jobs, the flex of Kannadiga political muscle is democracy in action. There is much discussion, however, in other quarters of the impact of the name change on Brand Bangalore. The future will answer that question. Bombay Sapphire Gin survived…and our blogsite name will remain the same.

2006-10-30T12:54:00.000+05:30

Vietnam

– The Epilogue

We have kept in e-mail in touch with Hai Pham, our young enterprising Vietnamese guide from Hanoi. Hai, a twenty- something, recently married and bubbling with expectations for the future, is of the generation that will propel Vietnam into the 21^st century.

Following the rising tide of tourism, Hai studied at his university to be a tour guide. Always keen to share his local knowledge with his “guests” (not customers), Hai provides wonderful color commentary in his emerging English fluency. Hai accompanied us on our tour of Ha Long Bay. He made sure our concerns, questions and needs were satisfied.

Those seeking a wonderful view of Hanoi are recommended to contact Hai (sapatour29_2@yahoo.com). The picture is Hai Pham, his parents and more “guests” that he honored with his energy.

Other resources one might wish to explore in Vietnam whether seeking employment, teaching English, extending a helping hand or mingling with others that have gone before you are listed below.

Vietnamworks.com and Navigos.com are related job search sites.

Sunderland University (Email: sunderland.vietnam@gmail.com or recruitment@vus-etsc.edu.vn) are good starting places for those who wish to teach English to eager Vietnamese students.

The East Meet West Foundation (EMW) has for over 17 years been working with the people of Vietnam to build a peaceful and prosperous future.

The International Ladies of Vietnam of Ho Chi Minh City is an organization of expats living in Vietnam. Very similar to the Overseas Women’s Club in Bangalore, the ILV helps people navigate the many unknowns upon their arrival in Vietnam and provides a strong social circle.

And to all those we met and made our trip to Vietnam a wonderful adventure we say, “Cam un”….Thank you.

2006-10-27T20:31:00.000+05:30

I’ve Seen Fire and I’ve Seen Rain

Toward the end our visit to Vietnam we reflected on our trip at the open air roof top restaurant at our hotel in HCM City. The hot humid air of the day had changed to a cooling evening breeze and let us pay some attention to what was going on around us. A pleasant young Vietnamese waitress explained, in English, how we could best use our complimentary coupons. A group of retirement aged Germans joked and conversed at the table next to us. The swimming pool had its share of activity. James Taylor and Beetle music gently played in the background. We wondered just what it would have been like if the US had won its long struggle in this country.

A few days earlier on our taxi ride from the airport to our hotel, our driver with a small but sufficient grasp of English asked us where we were from. When we answered, “The US”, he responded “Very good country, America.” As we walked the streets, we noticed that Coke and Pepsi, products that know no international boundaries, were widely available. HBO and CNN were beamed into hotel rooms. Without hesitation, American accented English was used with westerners. To our children, Vietnam is not the land of your mom and dad.

We found that a smile and a stumbling attempt at Vietnamese brought reciprocated smiles and a gracious forgiveness for the horrible mangling of the very tonal Vietnamese language. A camera brought about mugging and more smiles when the instantly digital image was shared.

The main streets teemed with motorbikes and commerce. Side streets, less congested with vehicular traffic, were filled with fruit and veggie sellers. We know of nowhere else where one can buy a grapefruit the size of your head. On those side streets, there were more pleasant exchanges in mangled language made clear though hand signs, facial expressions and the universal language of a smile and laughter.

Included here are some parting images we wish to share from our adventure of Being In Vietnam.

2006-10-26T20:13:00.000+05:30

War Remnants Museum

The War Remnants Museum was opened in September 1975, four months after tank number 842 crashed through the gates of the Presidential Palace in Saigon, ending the war. When it was first opened, it was called the Museum of American War Crimes. It was later renamed to the War Crimes Museum and finally, with the focus on tourism, renamed again as the War Remnants Museum. The museum, not surprisingly, captures a view of the American War from a victor’s point of view. Despite the absence of any mention of the threatening factor that the spread of communism had on the West during the Cold War and the shared responsibility for senseless brutality executed by all that were under arms, the War Remnants Museum coverage was generally cognizant of the sensibilities to all that may visit.

The museum has eight themed areas. One starts with a section called Historic Truths with photos ranging from American tanks supplied to the French to American G.I. landing in Danang in March 1965. The final themed area, called War and Peace, is a collection of children’s paintings.

Vestiges of War Crimes and Aftermaths was probably the most difficult display to view. A large color photograph of the Son My (My Lai) massacre held a prominent position on the wall. Also displayed were photos of the results on both the environment and people of the chemical defoliant called Agent Orange. One Agent Orange photo, indicating the extent of the defoliant’s reach, was one of an American mother whose soldier son was also a victim of exposure to Agent Orange. More difficult for Jay was to see the grenade launcher weapon he carried 35 years ago as a young Marine displayed in this area.

The Requiem section dedicated to the 134 journalists from 11 nations who died in the war provided a more universal view of the war. The gallantry of war is far less evident when looking into the faces of men bedraggled in combat uniforms with no country affiliation, with only cameras hung from their necks. It was a unique collection of photos of American G.I.’s we had seen in Time magazine, hung along side photos of North Vietnamese soldiers never seen in our western press.

Another section of the museum that touched on the “international support for the Vietnamese people in their Resistance War” was not very candid, revealing that the “support” was mainly opposition to the war. The famous photo of a student kneeling over the body of another student killed at Kent State was displayed. It was a difficult time for everyone.

Outside, there were displays of American military artillery, tanks and Huey helicopters. All this equipment seemed so modern during the war, but now the tools of that war are literally museum pieces.

Our unguided tour lasted one hour. We were pleased to move on with our visit and lives, as we think most people are who are touched by this museum.

2006-10-24T17:49:00.000+05:30

First Look at Ho Chi Minh City

We started our four day stay in HCM City, formerly Saigon, with a tour of the old President’s Palace, now called the Reunification Palace. Built on the site of the old French governor general's home, the building was the seat of power for the government of South Vietnam. President Johnson met with President Nguyen Van Thieu in this building. It was also at this site, on April 30, 1975 tanks lead by number 843 crashed through the front gates marking the end of a very long war.

The building has been preserved much the way it looked on that spring day in 1975. Time has had a hand, however, in how the building is seen today. With a nod to the distance traveled since the war days, the front of the building was not draped with red banners of hammers and sickles. Rather, multistory banners advertising Cannon cameras hung from the front façade. Replicas of the tanks that burst onto the compound stood silently beneath shady trees.

We took a one hour tour of the building with an English-speaking young Vietnamese guide. We visited spacious hallways and rooms that were well appointed, but lacked warmth. The building has been described from “modern” to “tacky”, but was a marvel of its time when it was designed by Paris-trained Vietnamese architect Ngo Viet Thu. We visited diplomatic reception rooms, conference rooms, the first lady’s salon, the game/gambling room, the president’s private movie salon and the top floor open air dance room, which was right next to the rooftop helicopter landing pad. Once we headed to the basement and saw the bomb shelters, map rooms and communication center, the image of this building’s place in history became apparent.

Frozen in time are maps indicating areas of operations for various military units. Dozens of teletype machines once noisily communicating information in a pre-Internet era sat silently in their own room.

We ended our tour with a short English narrated film on the history of the “American War” and the eventual victory of the People’s Liberation Army. It was a little tough to take the repeated reference in the film to “American imperialism,” but overall the tone at theReunification Palace was subdued. After all, when we walked through the very gates that the now quiet tanks smashed through over 30 years ago, we were greeted with waving banners of western capitalist consumerism from Canon camera. The world does indeed get turned upside down every once in awhile.

2006-10-21T14:24:00.000+05:30

Ha Long Bay, Vietnam

Vinh Ha Long, or Bay of the Descending Dragon, lies in the northeastern part of Vietnam and is 165 km from Hanoi. It is often touted by proud Vietnamese as the world's Eighth wonder and is a UNESCO world heritage site. One of the main attractions of Ha Long is the bay's calm water and the approximately 3,000 limestone mountains dotting the seascape.

Upon arriving in Ha Long at noon, we boarded a junk and set sail with eight other people in addition to each party’s Vietnamese tour guide. Our boat mates were from Singapore, France, Australia, and the US. Our junk slowly motored around the bay for several hours, allowing us to take in the natural beauty of all the limestone formations and enjoy the peaceful water. From time to time local people would pull along side our junk and try to sell us bottled drinks and cookies, or sea shells and coral. Our junk eventually moored at a rather large formation and we could see people half way up the side, in front of a large cave opening.

Our guide, Hai, lead us though a huge cave inside, consisting of three large rooms. When the government began to allow tourists to visit Vietnam in the 1990’s, lights and footpaths were added. It was quite impressive. Unfortunately, most of the individual stalagmites and stalactites have been broken off by tourists or locals wanting to sell them to tourists. Astonishingly, the cave had no water in it that we could see.

After leaving the cave and returning to the junk, we slowly motored to a small sandy beach where those who wanted to swim could do so. By the time it started to get dark we all got back on the junk and headed a short distance away to anchor for the night.

We enjoyed the delicious meals that were prepared for us, which always consisted of several kinds of seafood (fish, jumbo shrimp, crabs) and rice, even for breakfast!

By the time noon rolled around again on the second day, we were docked at the harbor where we had climbed aboard. The next group of eager tourists was waiting their turn as we debarked.

On the 3 ½ hour long drive to and from Ha Long, we stopped at the obligatory emporium. This one is half way between Hanoi and Ha Long and is quite large and impressive. Visitors could wander through the work shops, watching workers sew both pictures and clothes, make jewelry and create laquerware. We saw a number of workers in wheel chairs, making the emporium an “equal opportunity employer.” Since we are in a “no new stuff” mode, we looked at the pretty handiwork, took pictures, sat long enough to enjoy a cup of the local tea and the ambiance, then moved on.

2006-10-20T12:40:00.000+05:30

Red River Delta Water Puppets

Among the must-see sights in Hanoi is the Water Puppet (Mua Roi Nuoc) show at the Thang Long Water Puppet Theatre. Water puppet theater has been providing entertainment from its origins in the Red River delta in northern Vietnam for nearly a thousand years. With so much “rehearsal time,” the presentation of short vignettes such as rural life, the dragon dance, rearing ducks, catching foxes, on a buffalo with a flute, and catching frogs is performed with a practiced elegance.

A traditional Vietnamese orchestra provides background music accompaniment. Further enhancing the experience of seeing three foot high puppets frolicking about in the water are singers of Cheo (a form of opera), singing the story being performed by the puppets.

The staging of the performance is rather simple. Puppets made of water resistant fig wood are fixed to bamboo poles approximately four feet long and operated by puppeteers standing in hip-deep water. The puppeteers are hidden by a bamboo curtain running the length of the back of the water stage. Each of the 17 vignettes we enjoyed lasted about 2 – 3 minutes.

Admission was moderately priced between 20,000 to 40,000 dong with another 10,000 dong required for use of the camera. Pre-show introductions on the background of the performance were provided in English. When our puppet narrator or Chu Teu emerged, not surprisingly, Vietnamese was the language of the show.

Our written program in Vietnamese, English and French offered some insight into the theme and significance of the short performances. Our program explained that The Harvest Festival was the depiction of a new graduate’s return to his village and his desire to express his gratitude to his ancestors. We recognized the depiction of the Restored Sword legend as a tortoise puppet took from Le Loi the magical sword he used to route Chinese overloads. The tortoise then disappeared beneath the water thus returning the sword to its divine owners.

We know we missed many of the underlying social and cultural elements of the performances. Imagine Vietnamese watching a performance of Okalahoma trying to figure out why a surrey with the fringe on the top is such a big deal. We need more cultural exchange programs!

At the conclusion of the performance, the puppeteers emerged from behind the bamboo curtain to receive much deserved applause and recognition. The orchestra received their recognition as well.

The crowd, mainly tourists, then rose and milled about the theater souvenir stand before climbing back onto tour buses. We ambled the short distance from the theatre back to our hotel. A stop at a cyber café (3,000 dong/ hour:20 cents) gave us a chance to check e-mail. As we continued to the hotel, we marveled at all the displays of flowers, candies, paper lanterns and other goodies in small street shops, providing gifts to celebrate National Women’s Day. Another reason for more cultural exchange programs.