The sound of Hindu pop music blared loudly next door as we awoke. Rajiv said there was a wedding celebration going on.
We walked to the United Christ Church, Auntie "P" and her family's home church and just a few blocks away from home. About 200-250 people were in attendance. It was packed. The church looked a lot like the old churches on the U.S. East Coast, colored white with a large steeple. The pastor dressed in dignified white robes. The sermon was in Telugu, with some English sprinkled in between (Rajiv said the pastor used to speak more in English, but gave way to a demand that sermons be more in Telugu). Every Indian church I've been to so far does a "silent prayer" at the end of the service, just like my church back in the U.S. Except for a few exceptions, women and men sat on separate sides of the sanctuary.
Before and after the service, groups of cars, scooters, and motor vehicles loudly announced the presence of some VIP politician. Flags of the Congress party flew from many of them. Firecrackers blasted randomly around them. They may have been celebrating the 57th anniversary of Mahatma Gandhi's death, which I'd been reading about.
After the service, beggars lined the church entrance asking for handouts. Some gave, some didn't. I didn't blame anyone for not responding. How would churches in the America deal with such similar situations?
On the way home, I noticed a couple of scooters that had spare tire covers with a picture of the Seattle skyline on it! Surprising to see that in Vizag, off all places. I wish I had a camera at the time.
The next-door Hindu music was still playing when we came home.
We spent the afternoon packing. Sanjay wanted to play the games we taught him. Both he and Rajiv seem to be pretty good kids and show affection to their mom. Grandma played "10,000" along with us.
We said goodbye to the two grandmas. Auntie "P", Rajiv, and Sanjay accompanied us to the Vizag train station to say goodbye to us. They had to pay Rs. 3 each just to come into the station.
The train left Vizag around 5 pm. We shared our section on the train with a couple and their two small kids (one a tiny baby). The usual beggars and vendors walked up and down the aisles on our train. One boy wearing fake glasses and covered in silver paint emotionlessly pandered for money. Dad said he was dressing like Gandhi (apparently in observation of Gandhi's death anniversary?). Most folks gave him odd stares. We saw him walking along one station and then later as the train was moving. He then got scurried off at the next station, possibly to board the next train going in the other direction. Seems like the M.O. of most beggars.
"L" and I slept on the top bunk this time, while Mom and Dad slept in the middle. Though it was closer to the fans, it was still hot and thus hard to fall asleep.
