Farewell, India

Our last day in India. :-( How time flies!

We spent the morning packing everything up, while watching the final episode of "The Amazing Race".

Dad and I scootered to a gift shop near "5th Avenue Bakery" to pick up 3 roses and a card for Mom and "L", being Valentine's Day and all.

At home, Dad prayed for "L", My sister, and I. We bid everyone good-bye and climbed into the city cab, which was 15 minutes late, making for some anxious moments.

The city cab took us on our last ride through Hyderabad. "L" argued about the driver asking for Rs. 3 extra for the bags, saying he was late, which should cancel it out. We didn't win.

At the terminal, the computer systems were down, so all airlines were processing boarding passes manually.

Dad and Mom waited for us in the designated waiting area, for which they paid Rs. 50 each to be there. The door to the outside pickup/dropoff curb was all that separated them from the waiting area, which showed how little those Rs. 50 got them. To boot, a waist-high metal rectangle barrier kept us from them and from being together. We could only talk from across the 10 or so feet separating us. We were allowed to step through the 10-feet-or-so space via a little pathway, but were still divided by the fence itself. I was rather put off by what appeared to be a shameless, pathetic way to make profit off parting people's emotions at the airport. Even so, we made the most of our last few minutes together.

We boarded the airplane, heading for Sri Lanka. It was a short 1.5 hour flight. It took much less time for us to get through the airport, after the bus carrying the deplaning passengers dropped us off at the terminal. The terminal was absent the tsunami relief activity that prevailed on our journey in. It took hardly any time to get our assignments at Blue Oceanic Hotel. The hotel van drove 20 minutes to the hotel. The same staff that met us there before were there to greet us again. They remembered us. I gave the bellhop a Rs. 100 tip (makeup for not giving him one the first time), after he led us to our room. After settling in, "L" and I went down to the beach. It was dark, save a few lights. The stars and night sky created an almost-canopy effect. A beached catamaran silhouetted itself against the faint, eerie glow of the ocean waves. It was beautiful.

Belated Merry Christmas, Hyderabad!

We arrived in Kuceguda (sp?) train station around 5:30 am. We got off the train and entered a sea of taxi drivers clamoring for our business (mainly to me, since I apparently stood out as the clueless foreigner in distress). Dad bargained for an Ambassador taxi for Rs. 250.

We got home, took bath, and got ready for church. My sister called. She is coming to church and to our home to spend the night.

Dad and I scootered ahead to SBF. We were one of the first there. We got ready for Sunday School. After a while, I went downstairs to wait for my sister, who was being dropped off by her hosts and had just come in from Ahmedbad. "L" and Mom arrived later by city cab with the computer and projector. My sister came shortly after.

Dad gave a sermon on Song of Solomon and on love. "L" gave a Powerpoint presentation on our work with the university.

In the afternoon, Dad, my sister, and I took a city cab to a church in the outskirts. Called "Sharon Church", it housed a group of 150 children waiting for gifts from Samaritan Purse. They were evenly split by gender, crammed in the small sanctuary. Most, if not all, were from poor backgrounds. The kids were quite well-behaved, in no small part to a few adults hovering over them with a long, wooden rod used to tap or intimidate kids into submission. A commissioner for customs was at hand to ensure the gifts were being given away. This was required since GMI (Gospel Mission for India) was exempted from paying millions of rupees in excise fees for the gifts because folks higher up were able to persuade customs that they would be given away and not sold. My sister and I gave short speeches, along with Dad and the commissioner. We took turns giving away the gifts to the children, ranging in ages 5-14. Only children whose parents gave written permission to receive the gifts were allowed in. The church had to close its gates to prevent unregistered children from coming in. This was done to ensure that the church was only giving to those who wanted it and wasn't forcing the gifts or the faith associated with it on its recipients (a sensitive issue in India). The kids were quite well-mannered throughout, even tho' the adults in charge wanted them to be more quiet. They sang loudly and enthusiastically, gave polite applause, and cheered/waved as we left.

We went home and got ready to go to the "A" family's home. "L", My sister, and I walked there. We had dinner and chatted. I had a good chat with Uncle "A". Responding to my questions about it, Uncle "A" explained how anti-conversion laws in India only prevented people of faith (mainly Christians) from forcing someone to convert, but it does not prevent an individual from choosing on their own to convert, so long as they sign a government document stating they are officially changing religions (usually done at baptism). He also explained that a law stating foreigners are not permitted to address a public gathering pertained mainly to proselytizing, and even then, it could be could be circumvented by getting special clearance (as in the case of Benny Hinn, Joyce Meyer, and Hillsong). Many misperceptions clarified. Uncle "A" may know some contacts in Pakistan that might be able to help Dreamhouse Grammar School get under an umbrella of accountability.

Afterwards, the women went out to another woman's home down the street to have henna done on their hands (me, I just watched --- it's not something men have done). Henna, or mehandi, is a tradition for Indian women, especially during weddings. Or on days like today, just for fun.

Summary of Goa Trip

The train made a number of stops at various village and town stations. One of them had signs proclaiming that Islam, Christianity, and Hinduism are all the same. Dad explained that this was part of the religious movement called Sai Baba, a liberal, ecumenical offshoot of Hinduism that mimics Bahai (Islam) and New Age/Unitarianism (Christianity).

We arrived at the Vasco De Gama train station around 8 pm on February 8th. Captain "Mo" and his wife (who made the housing arrangements for us in Goa) met us there. Vasco De Gama is a major city in the state of Goa. From there, an Ambassador taxi drove us 45 km to our hotel, the Calangute Residency. The taxi ride cost a flat Rs. 500 (note: if we had known to pay for a round-trip taxi fare from train station to hotel, it would've costed Rs. 700). The rooms, which were A/C, each cost Rs. 1000 per night. We got two.

We ate breakfast at a nearby vegetarian restaurant. The meals never ran more than Rs. 150 for all four of us. Lunch and dinner tended to run more, around Rs. 450-550. We once bought lunch and drinks from a beach shack. Sandy was our waiter, who was quite helpful in many ways and not so pushy. I liked his service and tipped him Rs. 80, which he considered quite generous. "I'll never forget it", he said at one point.

Beautiful sunsets....body surfing the waves of the Arabian Sea....watching parasailing couples....soaking up the sun on reclining chairs....watching people, mostly European tourists and Indian vendors....cow crossing the beach....

I made a phone call to my sister in Portland from a small phone-call business. Charge was only Rs. 4.65/minute (about USD 10 cents/minute). Not bad!

Mom and Dad told us they saw a parasailing couple float into the ocean by accident. The power boat pulling them evidently ran out of power or gas, causing the parasail to go into the water. Rescue boats went out to rescue the couple trapped under the parasail in the water. Everyone was reported to be okay, but Mom decided going parasailing for us (only Rs. 1000 per couple) was out of the question after what happened. "L" felt that way, too. I wasn't too sure about it myself.

Dad mentioned he shared the gospel with a fruit vendor he'd been buying fruit from. It was one of the few times Dad had ever shared in Hindi. Dad said the vendor did accept Christ then and there. The vendor was a Hindu.

On the day we left, we re-hired the same taxi driver that brought us to Calangute to bring us back to Vasco. Along the way, we stopped at several points of interest. Among them, we visited the Bom Jesus Basilica, where the body of St. Francis Xavier is entombed in a glass case situated high above the ground. Every once in a long while, Xavier's glass casket is lowered to the ground for public viewing. We bought some items from a few street vendors, but steered clear of the guy selling peacock-feathered fans (deemed illegal apparently by the state, since it involved poaching peacocks, India's national bird).

Dad and I met two railway employees, Gopalkrishna and Vijaykumar, at our 2-hour stop for train change at Guntankal (sp?). Dad chatted with them and discovered that they are Christians. We noticed that there were color portraits of Ganepiti (Hindu human-elephant god), the kaaba of Islam, and Jesus. This is part of the Sai Baba religion. Dad encouraged them to stay strong in their faith and be witnesses to the people around them. Dad and I prayed for them there in the railway station.

Going To Goa

An auto-rickshaw motored by carrying about 10 schoolchildren! As they drove past, I could see their backpacks hanging out the windows, one on top of the other.

We spent the afternoon packing for the trip to Goa. We boarded the train at around 7 pm. The tickets cost around Rs. 2400 round-trip, much more than the Rs. 500 round trip to Vizag. But that's because we were traveling in air-conditioned cars, 2nd class. We had a section all to ourselves, divided by curtains, with our own fan. A train employee named Abdul Ramen gave us blankets, bedsheets, and pillows (a real treat). The A/C was running comfortably. No beggars or vendors came through. Access to this car was blocked from other cars. It was definitely a grade up from the sleeper cars we took to Vizag. But Dad felt it lacked some personality and intrigue, even though it was more comfortable. Still, we enjoyed what was meant to be a trip for relaxation.

Day At "Berachah House"

"L", Dad, and I took a city cab to Berachah House of Worship in Hyderabad. Dad was scheduled to speak at their morning service. We started out at 9:30 am and arrived 40 minutes later, but apparently, they started at 9:30 am, so they were worried that Dad might not show up. Dad was asked to speak as soon as we stepped into the church. Apparently, they were "stalling" for him. Dad spoke in English while someone translated. He spoke twice, but he later said they usually have the preacher speak 3 times in a service.

Most women in the church covered their heads. Men had our shoes off. Men and women sat separately on the floor. There were many more women than men, almost 3 women to 1 man. The adults sang together, while the children sang different songs in another room. It was a happy, meaningful mixture of praise in the air. I heard the children sing "If You're Happy And You Know It". After Dad finished speaking the first time, the women lead corporate singing and prayer. All of it was in Telugu. We didn't sit on the floor, but rather in chairs in a hallway outside the main sanctuary. We watched through a metal grating.

We also took Communion, using crumbly cake and a community cup of juice.

To my surprise, the pastor asked me to come up and say a few words after the last sermon. The pastor translated while I simply shared greetings from brothers and sisters in the U.S. and how I enjoyed their singing.

I stepped out a couple of times to take some pix of buffalo munching on a pile of garbage next to the church. I also chatted with a man named "Logsgrem" (sp?) with his 1.5 year-old daughter Sivitah, snapping photos of them. They didn't speak much English, but we were able to enjoy each other a bit.

After church, we went to the home of the pastor of Berachah House of Worship. His wife and their son fed us a great lunch of biryani (quite spicy!). "L" and I spent the afternoon preparing for our talk with the BHW young adult group.

We auto-rickshawed back to the church. "L" gave a talk on boy-girl relationships, while one of the leaders translated. I shared a bit about what attracted me to "L" (similarities and differences) as well as hearing God's voice in culture and language. We showed some pictures of the wedding and of China. We fielded some questions about China as well.

The BHW pastor and his son accompanied us to catch a bus home. On the way to catch the bus, we saw a couple of camels walk in front of us. They're used for novelty rides, much like the horse-drawn carriage in the States.

The bus was fairly empty. It costs Rs. 7 a piece to ride it. Once at the station, we waded through an amazing wave of people, buses, cars, and auto-rickshaws. Every motor vehicle rarely came to a slow when it came upon a group of people....it expected most people to get out of the way first. I have to say that I have not seen traffic anywhere in the world so far that compares to India's.

Gift Delivery Hits Snags, Telephone Wires, Tree Branches....

Happy birthday, Dad!!!!

Dad and I scootered out to the training center. The container shipment with the Samaritan's Purse gifts arrived and were being delivered. We spotted the container and truck. It was the size of a regular semi-tractor-trailer (which I haven't seen any of around India yet). It was huge! Too big, in fact, for the neighborhood it was trying to navigate. It took down a few telephone and cable lines, as well as numerous tree branches. The truck driver was inching his way through, while his partner used a loooong wooden "fork" to push power lines and tree branches out of the way. It was painstaking, but eventually it made it to the training center. The truck backed up over a vacant lot next to a very nice mansion (across the street from the training center and the colonel's home).

Meanwhile, the container truck was drawing a lot of negative attention. Several neighbors, including the woman residing in the "very nice mansion" complained loudly. Some were wondering what was being transported. Dad didn't give them any specific details about the container or the training center's purpose. He told me later that he was worried that the neighbors (most were Hindu) would turn the situation into a religious feud and use that reason to shut down the training center. Eventually, officials from the Sainikpuri compound drove up asking Dad to come to the compound office. Dad and I went to the office. The main official gave Dad a firm, but gentle reprimand and request that he repair the lines that went down.

We scootered to several places looking for linemen who would attend to the downed lines, but we found none. We went back to the training center, hearing that the ashram staff felt less nervous with Dad around. The ashram staff hired some men (mainly Hindus) to move the boxes from the container into the training center.

Tough way to start out a birthday, but Dad and I went back home in time for a lunch-time birthday celebration with neighbors, friends, and colleagues that met him there. Lots of food, cake, and a good time had by all.

Dad and I scootered out to meet "Y", Isaac, Paul, and the truck drivers to exchange paperwork, take pictures, and pray. I don't think the truck drivers are Christians, but they prayed along with us anyway.

Some linemen had stopped by, hearing that Dad was looking for them. Dad said they'd agreed to help out and not to worry about the work. Dad had given them some gifts from the Samaritan Purse in the past, so their rapport was quite good.

On TV that night, we watched "Discovery Channel", showing a colorized version of WW2 and a feature on terror sleeper cells in the U.S.

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.