Slow day today. "L" and I went to the Internet café for a couple of hours. We took some pictures as well. One favorite was that of a herd of buffaloes being led across a residential road.
Dad and I went out to "5th Avenue Bakery" to pick up 4 small pizza, 2 hamburgers, and 4 drinks (all for Rs. 260). The place is quite popular, owned by Iranians who don't speak the local language well. There were large bee/wasps that swarmed part of the ceiling, which was a little weird. Probably a hive nesting somewhere in the restaurant ceiling. Yikes!
Saturday, January 22, 2005
Friday, January 21, 2005
That's Eid as in "Eden", Not "Eyed"
Today is a Muslim holiday, Eid-Mubarak. I believe it's the celebration of the end of Hajj.
We spent the morning relaxing, talking, and having breakfast with Uncle Mamaya, Mom, and Dad. We talked about Uncle Mamaya's life in Oman. He invited us to come sometime. Muscat is apparently very modern, clean, and orderly, almost like any Western city, which explains why ex-pats growing up there may not want to leave.
We watched "American Idol" together. I've never watched this show, except once on someone's video tape. To think I had to come to India to see it for the first time.
Pastor "E" from SBF (a local church) dropped by for a chat. Dad and Uncle Mamaya talked about life as pastors. Pastor "E" has done some work with Ravi Zacharias. Actually, he kinda sounds like him. Later Uncle "R" (from Vizag....Mom's cousin who also married Mom's youngest sister) and Uncle from NZ dropped by. Listening to them talk about the faith community in India and abroad was fascinating to say the least. Pastor "E" said a prayer before he left.
"L" and I took a walk around. Small, A-frame squatter shacks dot the neighborhood. Barefoot children played outside in the shadow of small stores, farms, and a couple of Hindu temples. Two girls and a boy dressed in kung fu outfits practiced on a dirt field, perhaps awaiting their instructor (a sign off the road said kung fu lessons would be held there). The usual cows, chickens, stray dogs, stray cats, and pigs, of course. The sun was large, red, and soft. We took a few pix on the terrace.
We spent the morning relaxing, talking, and having breakfast with Uncle Mamaya, Mom, and Dad. We talked about Uncle Mamaya's life in Oman. He invited us to come sometime. Muscat is apparently very modern, clean, and orderly, almost like any Western city, which explains why ex-pats growing up there may not want to leave.
We watched "American Idol" together. I've never watched this show, except once on someone's video tape. To think I had to come to India to see it for the first time.
Pastor "E" from SBF (a local church) dropped by for a chat. Dad and Uncle Mamaya talked about life as pastors. Pastor "E" has done some work with Ravi Zacharias. Actually, he kinda sounds like him. Later Uncle "R" (from Vizag....Mom's cousin who also married Mom's youngest sister) and Uncle from NZ dropped by. Listening to them talk about the faith community in India and abroad was fascinating to say the least. Pastor "E" said a prayer before he left.
"L" and I took a walk around. Small, A-frame squatter shacks dot the neighborhood. Barefoot children played outside in the shadow of small stores, farms, and a couple of Hindu temples. Two girls and a boy dressed in kung fu outfits practiced on a dirt field, perhaps awaiting their instructor (a sign off the road said kung fu lessons would be held there). The usual cows, chickens, stray dogs, stray cats, and pigs, of course. The sun was large, red, and soft. We took a few pix on the terrace.
Thursday, January 20, 2005
Hitting A Wall
We dressed to go to a betrothal ceremony for Mom's cousin's son and his fiancé. It was outdoors. Festive marigolds, jasmine, and balloons half-dipped in psychedelic paint decorated the stage. The audience was coverd by a large, colorful, worn, quilted cloth held up by large sticks cut from trees. Several men, including Dad and Uncle Mamaya, took turns making speeches, reading the Bible, praying, and singing. Some present were Hindus, who didn't pay much attention. Many of them were colleagues of the bride-and-groom-to-be. Not as many family members were present as they wished, which made our presence all the more meaningful to them. The entire service was conducted in Telugu. The families of the groom gave gifts to the bride's family. Rings were exchanged. The bride and groom were stoic for the most part, but after the service, they seemed more loose. We went up to the stage later and congratulated them. There were plates of flower petals on chairs next to them. People would sprinkle them on the bride and groom's heads as they congratulated them.
For the first time, I felt I hit a wall culturally. I felt stifled by the traditions and expectations on me as a foreigner, American, and member of an Indian family. It's one thing to be a foreign observer, tourist, even aid worker. But having intimate connections with a family via marriage brings about new challenges I'd never anticipated. I felt too restricted, too nagged, overwhelmed by what's considered proper and improper in India. India seems more restrictive in allowing social and casual self-expression than the U.S. Expression in media (which India and the U.S. are about par) is one thing --- social interactions are another. Maybe it's still early and my education into this side of culture is at pre-school level. I also acknowledge my history of bucking, questioning, and challenging the traditions and cultures I grew up with (American, Asian, Christian). Doing so as a newcomer to a more rigid (or at least seemingly so) culture like India's is not as easy. I sometimes wonder if those close to me in India grow weary of hearing my questions about things that may be more obvious to them. So rather than try to do the "right" thing culturally, I felt for the moment it was easier to take the path of least resistance and say/do nothing or as little as possible, to avoid doing the "wrong" thing. However, I risk alienating myself or coming across as cold, impolite, and unfriendly. "L" and I had a good talk about this and cleared up some misunderstandings.
The "city cab" was a bit hard to come by, apparently because many taxi drivers are Muslim and are taking the day off for Eid-Mubarak. Also, many Muslims are taking what taxis are left for the celebration, further diminishing the supply.
Beggars are all around the streets, knocking on car windows asking for money or something to eat. Two little girls saw a half-drank bottle of Coke I had and excitedly motioned how they wanted it. I opened the window and handed it to them. They immediately snatched it and drank it together greedily.
For the first time, I felt I hit a wall culturally. I felt stifled by the traditions and expectations on me as a foreigner, American, and member of an Indian family. It's one thing to be a foreign observer, tourist, even aid worker. But having intimate connections with a family via marriage brings about new challenges I'd never anticipated. I felt too restricted, too nagged, overwhelmed by what's considered proper and improper in India. India seems more restrictive in allowing social and casual self-expression than the U.S. Expression in media (which India and the U.S. are about par) is one thing --- social interactions are another. Maybe it's still early and my education into this side of culture is at pre-school level. I also acknowledge my history of bucking, questioning, and challenging the traditions and cultures I grew up with (American, Asian, Christian). Doing so as a newcomer to a more rigid (or at least seemingly so) culture like India's is not as easy. I sometimes wonder if those close to me in India grow weary of hearing my questions about things that may be more obvious to them. So rather than try to do the "right" thing culturally, I felt for the moment it was easier to take the path of least resistance and say/do nothing or as little as possible, to avoid doing the "wrong" thing. However, I risk alienating myself or coming across as cold, impolite, and unfriendly. "L" and I had a good talk about this and cleared up some misunderstandings.
The "city cab" was a bit hard to come by, apparently because many taxi drivers are Muslim and are taking the day off for Eid-Mubarak. Also, many Muslims are taking what taxis are left for the celebration, further diminishing the supply.
Beggars are all around the streets, knocking on car windows asking for money or something to eat. Two little girls saw a half-drank bottle of Coke I had and excitedly motioned how they wanted it. I opened the window and handed it to them. They immediately snatched it and drank it together greedily.
Wednesday, January 19, 2005
A Man From Oman
Dad and I scootered to the airport to pick up Uncle Mamaya from Oman. Uncle Mamaya is Mom's younger brother.
Dad commented that Hyderabad used to be very simple, uncrowded, mild, back 10 years ago, but now it's become more and more like Kolkata and Mumbai. More traffic, pollution, crowds now. He said that many places just on the outskirts don't have traffic lights (I noticed very few traffic lights around where we live), which is because the twin cities (Hyderabad/Secunderabad) haven't quite caught up with the immense growth around it.
We waited for a "city cab" taxi, but couldn't seem to get one, even tho' Dad called in for one several times. Uncle Mamaya and I climbed aboard an auto-rickshaw instead. We had a good conversation along the way. Uncle Mamaya serves in an international church in Oman. He's been there the past 8 years, although he's thinking about moving on. He originally did some work in Rajasthan with the Muslims. His wife is a Christian convert from Islam and was ostracized by her family.
We had a prayer meeting at 7 pm. No one came for the first half-hour, during which time Mom, "L", and I sang songs while I played guitar. Two couples came later. We sang more songs and then shared. Dad came by eventually. We shared requests and then went around the circle to pray. One woman named Samla shared how she'd been sharing with customers at her store. They'd been asking questions about her faith and she welcomed the opportunity to share. All the ones she shared with come from a Hindu background.
Dad commented that Hyderabad used to be very simple, uncrowded, mild, back 10 years ago, but now it's become more and more like Kolkata and Mumbai. More traffic, pollution, crowds now. He said that many places just on the outskirts don't have traffic lights (I noticed very few traffic lights around where we live), which is because the twin cities (Hyderabad/Secunderabad) haven't quite caught up with the immense growth around it.
We waited for a "city cab" taxi, but couldn't seem to get one, even tho' Dad called in for one several times. Uncle Mamaya and I climbed aboard an auto-rickshaw instead. We had a good conversation along the way. Uncle Mamaya serves in an international church in Oman. He's been there the past 8 years, although he's thinking about moving on. He originally did some work in Rajasthan with the Muslims. His wife is a Christian convert from Islam and was ostracized by her family.
We had a prayer meeting at 7 pm. No one came for the first half-hour, during which time Mom, "L", and I sang songs while I played guitar. Two couples came later. We sang more songs and then shared. Dad came by eventually. We shared requests and then went around the circle to pray. One woman named Samla shared how she'd been sharing with customers at her store. They'd been asking questions about her faith and she welcomed the opportunity to share. All the ones she shared with come from a Hindu background.
Tuesday, January 18, 2005
So THAT'S How You Spell "Chudidar"
Dad, Mom, "L", and I went out to check out a restaurant/hotel called Taj Tristar. It was nice. We considered the price of Rs. 160+ tax/gratuity per head for vegetarian buffet, but are considering a non-veg arrangement, which would curiously up the price to Rs. 320+ tax/gratuity per head. We considered the dates of Jan. 26 and 28. Dad prayed with the hotel manager and his colleagues.
A curious thing to note: most signs around Hyderabad are written in English. Few are written in Hindi, Telugu, or Urdu. Yet most folks speak a language other than English.
"Chudidar" and "gagra choli"....so that's how you spell these Indian women outfits. It helped to see signs advertising these things at the mall.
Dad and Mom went to the airport to meet an auditor for Sram Ashram. By 12 midnight, they hadn't returned. We got pretty worried. "L" suggested we pray. I started praying, and before I finished, the phone rang. It was Dad! He assured us they were okay, that they ran late, and were on their way home. I cried over the goodness of God and the instantaneous answer to prayer, which hasn't happened to me that often.
A curious thing to note: most signs around Hyderabad are written in English. Few are written in Hindi, Telugu, or Urdu. Yet most folks speak a language other than English.
"Chudidar" and "gagra choli"....so that's how you spell these Indian women outfits. It helped to see signs advertising these things at the mall.
Dad and Mom went to the airport to meet an auditor for Sram Ashram. By 12 midnight, they hadn't returned. We got pretty worried. "L" suggested we pray. I started praying, and before I finished, the phone rang. It was Dad! He assured us they were okay, that they ran late, and were on their way home. I cried over the goodness of God and the instantaneous answer to prayer, which hasn't happened to me that often.
Monday, January 17, 2005
Fetching Pails Of Water
I heard a loud siren sound in the neighborhood today. No, it wasn't a fire. Just the opposite. The municipal water truck sounded its alarm, letting the neighborhood know it was around. This is how Mom and Dad get their good water for cooking and bathing, as opposed to the running tap water used for washing clothes, dishes, mopping, etc. This truck comes about once every 4 days. You never know when it'll come around, which can be a hassle, especially when you're low on water. Kinda like waiting for the cable guy.
Dad and I rushed out with around 10 large buckets and jugs to fill them up. Other neighbors jostled for position beside the spigots of the water tanks. I ran out to help, but "L" and Mom beckoned me not to go out with Dad. They worried what the neighbors would think, since I was a foreign guest. They worried that it would appear they were "rudely putting their guest to work", even when I offered to help. They said it wasn't any problem offering to help inside the house, since it won't be noticed by neighbors. "L" explained that it was more not being a "stumbling block" of sorts to the neighbors. Mom insisted on distributing the water where it was to go, since she knew best and felt it too complicated to explain.
Dad and I rushed out with around 10 large buckets and jugs to fill them up. Other neighbors jostled for position beside the spigots of the water tanks. I ran out to help, but "L" and Mom beckoned me not to go out with Dad. They worried what the neighbors would think, since I was a foreign guest. They worried that it would appear they were "rudely putting their guest to work", even when I offered to help. They said it wasn't any problem offering to help inside the house, since it won't be noticed by neighbors. "L" explained that it was more not being a "stumbling block" of sorts to the neighbors. Mom insisted on distributing the water where it was to go, since she knew best and felt it too complicated to explain.
Sunday, January 16, 2005
So You're From China, Eh?
We attended church today. "L", Mom, and I took a 3-wheel motorized taxi known as an "auto-rickshaw" there. It costs Rs. 8 to start. A guest speaker from North Carolina came to deliver the sermon. During announcements, the church's pastor introduced us as newlyweds. Thinking I was born in China (which I'm not), the pastor added a joking, political comment about a dowry in the form of giving back land China took from India. Beats me what he was talking about, so no offense taken.
With that, they prayed for us and our upcoming trip to China.
With that, they prayed for us and our upcoming trip to China.
Saturday, January 15, 2005
A Dedication And A Concert
Dad and I scootered to the new training center, where it'll be dedicated. Riding a scooter (moped) through the streets of India is no small thing. Especially when carrying an electronic keyboard, as I was doing. The training center is about 2 miles away. About 35 men and 10 women attended. Dad said many were involved in church planting among the poor and are quite influential. One of the women and one of the men worked for World Vision India. Much time was spent divided up in prayer in separate rooms.
The training center is being donated by a family who lives next door. The elderly couple living there originally built the home to house their daughter and son-in-law. But the daughter and son-in-law moved to the son-in-law's parents to care for them, since they are ill. So the couple (the husband was a colonel in the Indian army) and the son-in-law decided to rent it out to Sram Ashram as a training center instead.
We ate a large lunch with everyone. Most people sat orderly on the floor. "L" and I sat with the colonel, his wife, Mom, and Uncle "V" and his son (who live across the street from us). The colonel asked me questions about why Americans don't know much about India, even tho' Indians dominate fields there such as medicine and technology. I told him that the only people who could inform Americans about India are people from India and that Indians need to share about India via media vehicles in the same way people in India learn about America (e.g. TV, radio, magazines, newspapers, etc). Simply put, Americans don't subscribe to Indian stations the way Indians subscribe to CNN, ESPN, MTV, etc. I don't see that as Americans being disinterested in India as I see it Indians being fascinated by America. Overall, it was a spirited discussion, which I enjoyed. I like the colonel....a pleasant guy to talk with.
Speaking of newspapers, I'm very surprised to see how much is written about the U.S. in the local Indian newspapers, like the Deccan Chronicle. They even print editorials written by American columnists like Maureen Dowd ranting about "Bush's failed policies with Social Security". Now why Indians halfway around the world would concern themselves with things like America's Social Security policies is beyond me (other than the local Indian press eagerly print anything that denigrates Bush, which is quite common here, I'm finding).
Back to the colonel....colonel served in the 3 most recent wars India fought, including one with West Pakistan in 1971. India apparently sided with East Pakistan at the time, winning their independence from West Pakistan and helping them transform into Bangladesh. The colonel said, however, that Bangladesh is now even more hostile to India than Pakistan is. He feels it's mainly because of religion and "jihad", that Muslims in Bangladesh may have felt ashamed to have been liberated by non-Muslims and express their humiliation as animosity against their liberators.
We went to the Hillsong concert. We went with a few families, piling into two cars. The Hillsong concert was at Nazim College in Hyderabad, about a 25-minute drive. The concert was outdoors, attended by perhaps 10,000 or more. Someone said 30,000 attended yesterday. We sat in the VIP section, since Uncle "A" is a leader of Gospel Mission India (GMI). We drove backstage and walked to the section. A talented Telugu band played first, singing Telugu praise songs. The music was quite loud. Cotton balls in ears helped. The stage was filled with technical gadgets. A video on AIDS and abstinence, featuring Indian actors, interviewees, and narrators, was shown. "L" was quite surprised by its overtness (using words like "sex" and "condom" freely). The Hillsong group consisted of 8 British and 8 Australian members. They jumped and danced about a lot. Most of the audience up front did likewise, jumping up and down in a "mosh" style. Mostly teen boys did, but some girls in saris and chittidars did as well, which was curious to watch. A woman named Christine Caine gave a forceful message and altar call. Several hundred people raised hands making a profession of faith in Christ. I asked if this was against the law, since I thought foreigners weren't allowed to share the Gospel. Uncle "A" and Dad told me that having Hillsong deliver an anti-AIDS message may have helped their cause a bit, along with the possibility that the Indian gov't may not have cared to enforce it anyway.
Someone in our group opined that the messages delivered by Hillsong may have gotten lost on the crowd because the main speaker was a woman, white, and a Westerner with a checkered past (born illegitimately and abandoned by her biological parents), who dared to lecture "holier-than-thou" Indians on moral and purity issues. They thought this may have been seen as hypocritical within the larger Indian society.
The training center is being donated by a family who lives next door. The elderly couple living there originally built the home to house their daughter and son-in-law. But the daughter and son-in-law moved to the son-in-law's parents to care for them, since they are ill. So the couple (the husband was a colonel in the Indian army) and the son-in-law decided to rent it out to Sram Ashram as a training center instead.
We ate a large lunch with everyone. Most people sat orderly on the floor. "L" and I sat with the colonel, his wife, Mom, and Uncle "V" and his son (who live across the street from us). The colonel asked me questions about why Americans don't know much about India, even tho' Indians dominate fields there such as medicine and technology. I told him that the only people who could inform Americans about India are people from India and that Indians need to share about India via media vehicles in the same way people in India learn about America (e.g. TV, radio, magazines, newspapers, etc). Simply put, Americans don't subscribe to Indian stations the way Indians subscribe to CNN, ESPN, MTV, etc. I don't see that as Americans being disinterested in India as I see it Indians being fascinated by America. Overall, it was a spirited discussion, which I enjoyed. I like the colonel....a pleasant guy to talk with.
Speaking of newspapers, I'm very surprised to see how much is written about the U.S. in the local Indian newspapers, like the Deccan Chronicle. They even print editorials written by American columnists like Maureen Dowd ranting about "Bush's failed policies with Social Security". Now why Indians halfway around the world would concern themselves with things like America's Social Security policies is beyond me (other than the local Indian press eagerly print anything that denigrates Bush, which is quite common here, I'm finding).
Back to the colonel....colonel served in the 3 most recent wars India fought, including one with West Pakistan in 1971. India apparently sided with East Pakistan at the time, winning their independence from West Pakistan and helping them transform into Bangladesh. The colonel said, however, that Bangladesh is now even more hostile to India than Pakistan is. He feels it's mainly because of religion and "jihad", that Muslims in Bangladesh may have felt ashamed to have been liberated by non-Muslims and express their humiliation as animosity against their liberators.
We went to the Hillsong concert. We went with a few families, piling into two cars. The Hillsong concert was at Nazim College in Hyderabad, about a 25-minute drive. The concert was outdoors, attended by perhaps 10,000 or more. Someone said 30,000 attended yesterday. We sat in the VIP section, since Uncle "A" is a leader of Gospel Mission India (GMI). We drove backstage and walked to the section. A talented Telugu band played first, singing Telugu praise songs. The music was quite loud. Cotton balls in ears helped. The stage was filled with technical gadgets. A video on AIDS and abstinence, featuring Indian actors, interviewees, and narrators, was shown. "L" was quite surprised by its overtness (using words like "sex" and "condom" freely). The Hillsong group consisted of 8 British and 8 Australian members. They jumped and danced about a lot. Most of the audience up front did likewise, jumping up and down in a "mosh" style. Mostly teen boys did, but some girls in saris and chittidars did as well, which was curious to watch. A woman named Christine Caine gave a forceful message and altar call. Several hundred people raised hands making a profession of faith in Christ. I asked if this was against the law, since I thought foreigners weren't allowed to share the Gospel. Uncle "A" and Dad told me that having Hillsong deliver an anti-AIDS message may have helped their cause a bit, along with the possibility that the Indian gov't may not have cared to enforce it anyway.
Someone in our group opined that the messages delivered by Hillsong may have gotten lost on the crowd because the main speaker was a woman, white, and a Westerner with a checkered past (born illegitimately and abandoned by her biological parents), who dared to lecture "holier-than-thou" Indians on moral and purity issues. They thought this may have been seen as hypocritical within the larger Indian society.
Friday, January 14, 2005
Sankranti? Um, I'll have coffee instead...
Am told that today is the beginning of a 3-day Hindu festival called
"Sankranti". What it is, I'm not sure, but maybe this might shed some light....
8:23 pm, 14 Jan 2005
Okay, finished reading it....still not clear. So far, I haven't noticed any festive changes in the air. Then again, I haven't been in town long enough to know what's different about it.
"Sankranti". What it is, I'm not sure, but maybe this might shed some light....
8:23 pm, 14 Jan 2005
Okay, finished reading it....still not clear. So far, I haven't noticed any festive changes in the air. Then again, I haven't been in town long enough to know what's different about it.
Thursday, January 13, 2005
Checkin' out the local textile fair
Dad, Mom, "L", and I attended an exhibition (similar to a county fair) in Hyderabad. It's called the "65th All-India Industrial Exhibition". Textiles from all over India and Kashmir abounded. We bought a bunch of scarves and a couple of lungis (pronounced "LOON-ghee") wraparounds for men to be worn at home. "L" said the vendors noticed my "foreign" presence and hence were being sticklers while bartering, so Mom asked me to keep my distance. Most things were listed at fixed rate anyway. A lot of Muslim women dressed in abayas were there. Dad said there seemed to be more people dressed that way than ever before. He thinks it's because Muslims are feeling the need to be more bold in the faith. A number of boys ran around selling everything from balloon animals to mothballs to toys. Quite the fair.
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