A Blissful Snooze In The Middle Of The Street

On the way from visiting the "A" family, I encountered a herd of buffaloes and a pack of barking dogs crossing in front of me. Incense burned at a small Hindu roadside altar. Right behind me, I heard the voices of women singing from a small house that had the words "Believers' Church" and a worship schedule in Telugu on the side. Straight ahead, the Soviet hammar-and-sickle flag flapped in the wind, marking the site of the Maoist community. Taking it all in, the scene was quite....surreal and jagged. It was about 12:40 pm. Wonder what the gathering in the church was about.

On the way, we saw 5 stray dogs curled up and sleeping in the middle of the road. Peace amidst chaos, indeed. I can hardly walk in the middle of the crazy road, much less sleep on it. But these dogs seemed conditioned to expect an undisturbed snooze and not worry about getting run over or hit by a car or motorcycle or lorry. And the drivers are apparently willing to let them have it. Amazing!

We also passed by a home that was conducting "puja", or Hindu worship. A man was ringing a small bell and lighting incense while a woman silently prayed. It could be heard all around the home and neighboring houses.

I went online to search for the "svchost" and "svohost" error messages that kept popping up on my computer. I learned I had the "Backdoor.Nibu.G" virus! Pretty nasty....it copies keystrokes and clipboarded text into logfiles for later delivery to an email address in who-knows-where! I followed instructions on how to remove it. Chances are I got it from one of Dad's computers while networking to it. Better get some anti-virus software soon myself. If you're reading this, you might want to check for it yourselves.

Bob Saget "Speaks" Hindi (But Still Not Funny)

Dad made calls re: our upcoming Goa trip. The hotel booking is finalized.

The ad for "L's" name change is running into problems. Seems the newspapers have a different system than before for processing such requests. Still checking into it. We made copies of the marriage certificate to give to the newspaper.

"L", Dad, and Mom are all a bit under the weather. "L's" just starting out a cold....Dad and Mom seem to be getting over one (although Mom's cough is still quite nasty).

Containers carrying 9000 gifts from Samaritan's Purse for area children will be coming into the Sram Ashram training center this Saturday.

"America's Funniest Home Videos", circa 1990. Yes, Bob Saget was "speaking" Hindi. "L" says he didn't sound any funnier than when he was speaking English. "Ripley's Believe It Or Not" was a bit more enjoyable (not just because it was in English)....learned that the Aghoris of Varanasi, India eat the flesh off of dead bodies burned by Hindus. Yum. :-P

"Buy A Book About Me....Please!"

Dad and I set out for Uncle "W's" apartment on the scooter. I was carrying my laptop. Dad went hard over a speed bump just one block from home and bent the muffler up against the back wheel, which we had to fix before motoring on. Along the way, we came close to hitting a lorry head on and a Honda sedan who pulled out not seeing us. Sca-ree!!!

We attended the memorial service for Pedemma again at Uncle "W's" apartment. Today is the 2nd-year anniversary of her death. Tho' the service was supposed to start at 11 am, it hadn't started when we arrived at 1:30 pm. Everyone was waiting for a pastor from a Baptist church that Uncle "W"s and his family attended while they were in Hyderabad. The pastor from this church and several of his staff finally arrived around 2 pm. He gave a sermon in English while one of his staff (his son-in-law, I think) translated in Telugu. We had a nice meal afterwards, served to us by Uncle "W"s' relatives. About 20 people were in attendance. During that time, I slipped into the bedroom to go online and work on Sram Ashram's website.

Mom, "L", Auntie "R", and I then boarded a series of auto-rickshaws and "7-seater taxis" to "R's" home in Kukatpally. Along the way, I saw a lot of squatter tents lining the main highway. They often bunched together in groups of 10 or 20. We'd see them lined up side by side for blocks. A whole line of them were set up by the Nehru Technological Institute, a very nice complex....the contrast was stark. Many of the squatter tents served as family businesses, selling colorful Hindu idols of all sizes that they made. Packs of honking cars, buses, scooters, motorcycles, bikes, taxis, auto-rickshaws, etc. whizzed by them in clouds of dust, noise, and fumes.

We hung out at Auntie "R's" until 9 pm. During that time, I worked on Sram Ashram's website. "R's" husband came home between that time. I had a good, controversial chat with him (Uncle "L") about politics, China, Taiwan, U.S., India relations, etc. He's a big fan of China. Not so towards the U.S. He thinks Taiwan will be taken over by China. He quoted Lenin, saying Lenin foresaw the demise of various Western nations, like the U.S., Britain, and Germany. It was interesting....it had me wondering if Uncle "L" had leanings to Maoist philosophies. After he left, we had dinner and boarded a city cab back home. The fare was over Rs. 350. Mom and Dad took issue with the driver for not showing up on time, causing the fare to go up (it increases 1.5 times the daytime fare after 10 pm). Though we'd called for a cab at 8:15 pm, he didn't show up until 9:40 pm, leading us to suspect he did so on purpose to get the increased fare.

At home, Mom, Dad, and "L" discussed the memorial service. They felt the pastor was inconsiderate in not showing up on time. They felt he was into self-promotion more than anything. He brought books on his life, sermons, and ministry to sell after the service, which seemed tacky. He acknowledged primarily the men in the immediate family (including me, who had never met Pedemma), whereas the women seemed left out. Mom and "L" expressed their dissatisfaction and disappointment with the whole affair. I kept quiet, but I could understand what they were feeling. "L" felt it was just bad business. "L" and I talked a bit more about it before going to bed.

"Chandrika"

A young woman named "Chandrika" dropped by to chat. She lives around the corner. She came to our reception on the 26th and gave us a little swan she knitted over a light bulb. She came by to give us another one. "Chandrika" was recently baptized as a Christian. Her family is Hindu. When she told them of her decision to be baptized, they told her to leave the home. Right now, she wants to stay with her aunt, who is Christian. This aunt is staying with her grandmother, who is Hindu. They live about 4 hours away from Hyderabad. A difficult situation, indeed. We lifted "Chandrika" up in prayer. Mom sensed "Chandrika" was hiding her sad feelings about the situation.

"L" and I took a walk to the grocery store. We passed through the Maoist community across the street. Wet, colorful clothes hung on the barbed wire fence along the road to dry in the sun. Chickens and children scurried to and fro along the way.

Dad and I scootered to the train-ticket purchasing office. We bought four RT fares from Hyderabad to Goa on 2nd-class with AC for Rs. 10,000. That's about US $250. We'll be leaving Feb. 7 and returning Feb. 13.

Go, Iraqi Voters!

The train pulled into Hyderabad around 7:30 pm. Dad called for a city cab, but one wasn't available for another ½ hour. So we wandered through the mass of taxi drivers begging us for business. Dad decided to walk further away from the station to get one, since they were already on the road and we wouldn't have to pay extra to just get out of the train station parking area. It also gave Dad a chance to "shop" for the best-quality auto-rickshaw. The road outside the station was jammed with auto-rickshaws. A traffic cop used a large wooden stick to smack the auto-rickshaws that were holding up traffic. I almost got blind-sided by the stick, but I don't think the cop noticed. Dad and I went in one auto-rickshaw, Mom and "L" in another. In the end, it would cost about the same as taking one city cab (about Rs. 60 x 2)

Dad and I took a walk to a nearby grocery store. We passed by the Maoist community across the street, one block away. Hammer-and-sickle symbols were painted on the walls of the homes, which were shabbier than the homes in our neighborhood and the puri on the other side of it. Announcements in Telugu about Maoist events accompanied the Soviet symbols. "CPI", also painted on the walls, stands for "Communist Party of India". Dad greeted a fellow in this area, someone he hopes to talk with about Christ. Dad describes this fellow as a Maoist gangster of sorts. Maoists who tend towards a more gangster/renegade/anarchist approach in their philosophy are referred to as Naxals or Naxalites. The Naxals often live out in the woods where they often plan acts of terror to make their political views known.

We got home, ate, took naps, and watched "The Amazing Race" and "Who's Line Is It Anyway?" Mom and Dad are feeling under the weather. We hope they don't get sick. The trip to Goa we're planning for them is looking doubtful at this point, considering it'll be double the train ride distance we just took to Vizag.

The rains came today, quite heavily. (The local Deccan Chronicle mentioned that a Muslim nazam was held yesterday to pray for rain. Thousands from the area apparently participated.) Mosquitoes abounded. Dad used a vacuum cleaner while I used a hand-held bug zapper shaped like a racquetball racquet that "L" bought in China for her parents. It's quite a nifty, fun tool, but I doubt it'll ever be sold in the U.S.---gov't safety issues and all. We killed quite a few today, but they still kept coming.

We watched CNN with interest re: the Iraqi elections. The Deccan Chronicle reported on its success and the hope for Iraq's future. The Chronicle did so despite the fact that it seems anti-Bush and anti-America, printing many op-eds from Western sources that don't favor Bush or America. Dad, Mom, and "L" are equally interested in the news developments.

If A Beggar Came By Your Church...

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.

Visiting Vizag, Part II

I took a bath (same way as at home in Hyderabad....heated water in a bucket and poured over body). The water seemed to drain right outside the walls onto the streets below, but not sure.

Seven of us (Dad, Mom, Auntie "P", Rajiv, Sanjay, "L", and I) piled into the Indicar. Rajiv drove us all to Sundar Beach. Several families were there as well. It was a sunny, breezy day. We waded in the ocean water, which was somewhat warm. We learned that the tsunami did impact that area, albeit not significantly....a section of light brown sand far up the beach outlined where the waves stopped, which wasn't more than 100 yards from where the water was while we were there. Some boys were playing cricket on the beach. Dad talked with a Hindu boater about faith and prayed with him. We bought some roasted, lime-and-salt-covered corn-on-the-cob and also coconut juice from some street-side vendors.

We drove to a roadside restaurant and had a light lunch. The restaurant was easy to miss and we caught as we were turning a curve. The restaurant was part of a large garden. Work towards access to the beach was apparently still under construction. It was not busy. We ate a meal of Singaporean noodles and puri with some kind of curry (Rs. 427 altogether....not bad).

Rajiv drove us to a lookout point atop a small mountain. Rs. 25 entry fee for a car. The view of the city and beach was nice, albeit hazy. Afterwards, we wound through the city and along the waterfront. We passed by an old Soviet submarine that was docked, apparently as a tourist attraction. Lots of people hung out, including many couples. Vizag, Rajiv believes, is ripe for expansion economically. About 200,000 people live there and it's growing.

We later went to a shopping mall called CMR (not sure what it stood for). It seemed quite modern, with trees in front fashioned totally out of lights and large posters advertising its wares. I tried to take a picture, but a cop told me not to.

Rajiv been driving since he was 18 (legal age in India to drive). He learned from his dad. He said he doesn't get nervous or stressed driving through the wild traffic, as he's been used to it growing up. He does admit getting mad at drivers who just stop in the middle of traffic, which happens often. Rajiv honks a lot while driving, which is how drivers let each other know they're passing. We chatted a bit about the differences between driving in the U.S. and in India.

We arrived home to once again eat dinner at 11:30 pm. That's pretty late, even for Indians, who usually eat no earlier than 8 pm. Rajiv and I scootered out to pick up some milk and fruit juices. The fruit juices were made fresh. The vendors noticed my American dollar bill as I took out rupees to pay for the drinks. Rajiv says most people have never seen foreign currency and assume it's all American. He also said the reason why most signs and billboards outside businesses are in English is because it's for show....it denotes quality. If a business advertises in another language, people won't be as apt to cater to it.

Visiting Vizag, Part I

The bunks in the train cars stack three high in groups of 2 per section (making 6 bunks per section) on one side of the train, two high on the other side. The middle bunks fold up, allowing the bottom bunks to be used as benches. I slept in the middle bunk on one side of our section, "L" in the middle on the other side. Mom and Dad likewise occupied the bottom bunks. Despite having room to stretch lying down, I didn't sleep all that well. It was quite warm, even with 3 fans blowing from the ceiling in our aisle. The bed was hard and the sheets we brought kept sliding around. I was conscious of wearing only shorts in public (no one else was wearing them), so I used my lungi as a thin blanket.

Price for one-way train ticket from Hyderabad to Vizag = Rs. 1034 for four people. That's about US $25 a person. Not bad.

We got into Vizag and navigated through masses of disembarking passengers and men asking to help us carry bags or offer taxis. We met Rajiv, "L's" 19-year-old cousin. He and his driver friend loaded up their Tata Indicar (about the size of a 4-door Geo Metro) and took us to their home. We met Sanjay, Rajiv's little brother, and Auntie "P", their mom (she's Mom's youngest sister). Uncle "R" was in Nasig and would be for a few years at least. We won't be meeting him during our time in Vizag. We also met Auntie "P's" mother ("L's" grandmother), who lives with them, and her mother-in-law, who lives alone in an apartment below them.
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We mainly hung out at home for the rest of the day. "L" and I taught Auntie "P", Rajiv, and Sanjay how to play "Hand & Foot" and "Pounce". "L" also taught a dice game called "10,000".

The weather seems a bit cooler, albeit more humid. Vizag is next to the Bay of Bengal. The beach is about 10 km away.

Rajiv is studying info technology at a Muslim college. It takes him 1.5 hours to get there. Sanjay is in 8th grade. He likes to play more than study, but he seems to be a good student, judging from the homework we saw of his. Sanjay attends a Catholic school, which he said is not as harsh as the public schools, which make students go to school for longer days, more days in a year, and would often hit students for not doing well.

We ate dinner quite late, around 11:30 pm. It's normal to eat dinner in India after 8 pm. Auntie "P's" home has a cute little sink in the corner of the dining room. Those who can afford it always have one, so people can conveniently wash their hands before and after eating dinner with them. By the way, I'm getting pretty used to eating with my hands now.

Rajiv spent the evening trying to get a DVD player to work in his computer, but wasn't able to, even after downloading countless drivers. We were hoping to see the DVD of our wedding that Auntie "S" made for us in Boxford.

We learned that the tsunami didn't affect Vizag too much. Some people did die here, but it was mainly because they were out in the ocean taking a Hindu holy bath. There was little property damage, if any. Rajiv and Auntie "P" said they could feel the vibrations of the waves crashing on the coastline. Makes a bit of sense, since the tsunami was just energy created by an earthquake.

Dad and I got into a spirited discussion about the place of Biblical philosophy in developing government policy.

Voyage To Vizag

We got up at 6 am to say goodbye to Uncle Mamaya, who is leaving for Mumbai and then home to Oman. He'll be missed. We've been blessed by his presence.

We had breakfast with Mr. "K". We had an interesting chat about visas to the U.S. and life/work in Oman and the Middle East.

Dad's relatives (about 12 of them) from the coastal villages stopped by for a visit. They were going on a tour around town. One of their stops was to visit me. They listened to Dad and me talk for a while, but did little talking themselves. "L" says they talk a lot if they were using their own language at their own home. Mom from Vancouver called in the middle of the visit, which was nice.

The rest of the afternoon was spent packing for the train trip to Vizag. We watched "Oprah" during the time, which featured an 14-year-old Iraqi boy who turned his insurgent father over to the U.S. and gained asylum to the U.S., and 7 American children stranded at a Nigerian orphanage, abandoned there by their adoptive mom. "L" talked on the side about what it would be like to adopt those 7 kids. I love that she thinks on the edge like that.

We took a city cab to the train station. We boarded a train heading for Visakhapatnam, aka Vizag. Vendors selling all sorts of food wandered up and down the aisle. Beggars also took advantage, though they weren't supposed to. A cop accosted one beggar boy and told him to get out, but that didn't stop others from coming. On one occasion, three "women" in sarees got a little demanding and touchy with the man sitting next to me. "L" suspected they might've been transsexuals, since Indian women wouldn't normally act like that towards strange men. Other women, some blind, walked by singing songs (sometimes Christian Telugu songs). "L" encourage Mom and Dad to give to some who were obviously disabled (one guy had pointy stumps for arms). We gave some samosas (triangular dumplings) to a couple of them.

The toilets on the train were clean, but smelly. Flushing dumped the toilet contents outside onto the tracks below. Of course, no flushing was allowed at station stops. Wouldn't want to be stinking up the areas where people stand.

The train made several stops in villages along the way, but no announcements were made as to where the stops were. Guess you just need to know when/where to get off on your own.

Much of the journey went through lots of open space, which surprised me, since India's so populous and is relatively small in land mass compared to China.

Happy Republic Day! Happy Reception!

Today is Republic Day in India, which is like Independence Day in the U.S. Many places around the city prepared for celebrations. Some places, I read, chose to tone festivities down out of respect for those who died in the tsunami and in the recent stampede at a Hindu temple near Mumbai.

We had breakfast with Mr. "K", Uncle Mamaya's wife's cousin's husband. Mr. "K" is a Muslim. He went to the Hajj last year during his stay in Oman last year. He was in Oman because his wife was there teaching English for a year. Mr. "K" had just taken voluntary retirement to spend a year in Oman. He took advantage of being so close to Mecca to take part in the Hajj, along with his wife. Uncle Mamaya said Mr. "K" became more devout in Islam after his Hajj pilgrimage. We invited Mr. "K" to tonight's reception, which he said he would try to come.

We spent the morning and afternoon getting ready for the reception tonight. We tested the VCR, computer, and projector to make sure it was working together properly. Dad rented a Ambassador cab for the day, allowing us to go back and forth to the Taj Tristar freely.

Time went by as more things needed to be done. I was getting concerned as the minutes and hours passed that we might not make it to the Taj Tristar at the 6:30 pm time. We managed to leave home around 6:30 pm. We stopped by the "5th Avenue Bakery" to pick up a cake. Things felt being rushed out, which didn't feel too good.

The reception, however, turned out much better than expected. About 150 came, although it seemed like more. More than half came after we started, even tho' it was a hour later than we had planned. We scrambled to get things set up. The only thing that didn't work right was the computer speakers; we used Dad's portable P.A. machine instead. We showed a Powerpoint presentation that "L" put together, along with the video of the wedding, and then part of the reception on the DVD. "L" and I cut the cake, fed each other, and exchanged garlands with each other, to the applause of the audience. Uncle Mamaya did a superb job MC'ing the entire affair, given that he had little time to prepare.

After the ceremony, everyone lined up to congratulate us and give us gifts. It was quite a line of people. Many were from SBF and Sram Ashram, others were relatives. I met Dad's side of the family. Dad's older brothers all gave me hugs. Dad's oldest brother hugged me the most. I was very touched and surprised by this. Their acceptance was something of a surprise to me, as "L" was worried how I, being a non-Indian foreigner, would be received as an in-law. It seems they received me quite warmly.

The highlight of the evening was the moment when everyone sang "Great Is Thy Faithfulness" on cue with the video at the point when it was sung at the Boxford wedding. I was moved to tears immediately upon the first strains of the hymn, which the group sang loudly. I guess it was the awe of witnessing two different bodies of believers, on completely different days, and in completely different countries (Boxford, USA and Hyderabad, India) and cultures sharing a common spiritual bond via this amazing and wonderful hymn of praise. It was truly magical and divine. I took took the mic afterwards and told our guests how much "L" and I were blessed by this unforgettable moment God provided for us. Everyone applauded in agreement.

Mr. "K" did make it to the reception, along with about a dozen of Dad's relatives. Some of Dad's relatives are Hindu, along with some of the hotel employees present, I'm sure. Along with Mr. "K", we hope they got to experience a bit of God's spirit in the ceremony.

The Taj Tristar staff were very accommodating and friendly, in spite of the sometimes-tense negotiations leading up to the event. They heartily wished us all well.