Peter and Lauren's Wedding

3/29/08 from Karen:

This is the event I flew home for, and it was every bit as wonderful as one could ever hope a wedding could be! Lauren was a beautiful bride, with her best friends in attendance, and her proud parents serving as hosts to an outstanding reception. Peter was handsome, cool and collected, with his friends Matt, John and Mike at his side, along with his brother David and Lauren’s brother Jerry.

The festivities started Friday evening with the rehearsal at St. Paul’s RC in Portsmouth – Lauren chose the old stone church with high vaulted ceiling and two levels of gorgeous stained glass windows. The space was lovely, with the sanctuary still festooned with Easter lilies. Father Kevin was a no-nonsense, warm and gentle officiator, with a great sense of humor.

The rehearsal was followed by a dinner at St. Thomas’ parish hall back in Chesapeake, with delicious salad, lasagna and almond crème brulee provided by John’s catering company, beautiful wildflowers provided by Eliese, her sister Janice and nieces Naomi and Natalie, and totally awesome balloons and decorations provided by Rhonda. My entire family – Mom, sister Amy and her husband Bob, brother Walt and his daughter Kaleigh, were all able to get here, despite snow up north which provided some suspense at the airport.

After several days of 80 degree weather, Saturday dawned much colder than we were expecting, but the day was sunny and in the 40s. The ceremony was perfect, with readings by David and Jerry, a personal homily by Father Kevin, and an outstanding Ave Maria and liturgical song. For all the tears in the families’ eyes, the bride and groom were smiling and let us know that they were absolutely sure of their love.

A perfect day was made even better by the arrival of the Franza family, who I have not seen in almost 17 years. Tom and Dawn came from California, Paul and Jeanne from Connecticut, Gerard and his bride Kathleen from Jacksonville, and all the sisters – Claire from New York, Barbara Ann from Miami, Dot and Christine from Jacksonville. Lauren so wanted to meet them, and I am so glad they were able to share the day!

The reception at Vista Point on the Naval Base was elegant, relaxing and entertaining, with great food, plenty of dancing, a heartfelt toast by Best Matt unparalled in the history of toasts, and an outrageous cheesecake selected by Peter. The happy couple left for their limo ride to DC, where they would catch the flights that would take them to Miami and St. Lucia.

I got up Sunday morning and went right to my computer to add the happy statistics to our family tree website, only to find that Peter had beat me to it - at 4am he added: Peter and Lauren Franza, married 3/29/2008.

Visit to the Cu Chi Tunnels

3/28/08 From Jim:
Cu Chi, located about two hours from Ho Chi Minh City, is famous for its 200 kilometers (120 miles) of underground tunnels, dug and used by the Viet Cong during wars against both the French and Americans. The Viet Cong launched strategic attacks and then disappeared into the well-hidden tunnels.

On our way to the tunnels, we passed billboards, urging people to support the Communist Party. Our tour guide told us that people feel less need to be party members these days. In the past, when there were many state-run businesses, some applied for party membership to advance their careers. Today, most businesses are privatized and party membership is less important. As we drove toward the tunnels, we encountered heavy traffic – indicative of Vietnam's economic growth. The traffic consists mainly of motorbikes –expensive ones made in Japan while a type costing about $300 comes from China. "There are continuous traffic jams," our guide noted.

The Cu Chi Tunnels are a major tourist attraction here. As we arrived, Australian and Korean groups were being given tours. A young man from Hanoi briefed us. The tunnels were connected to wells, trenches and firing positions, and they extended to the Saigon River. Although most of the tunnels were only about two feet wide and less than five feet high, some passages were enlarged to create meeting rooms, kitchens, dining rooms, and a hospital. The people digging the tunnels used no structural reinforcement. They began digging tunnels while fighting the French and expanded them into a major complex to oppose the "American imperialists."

Unknowingly, the Americans built a base camp on top of one of the tunnels, giving the Viet Cong many ambush opportunities. They used this section as their headquarters since they knew the camp was safe from American B-52 bombing.

The tunnels had three levels, at depths of 3 meters, 6 meters, and 8 to 10 meters, sufficiently deep that they could withstand the weight of tanks and the impact of most bombs. The tunnels included hundreds of air vents. Bamboo poles were driven through the ground into the tunnel and termites would infest these poles. As the termites consumed the bamboo, they created air passages allowing ventilation for the tunnel.

Our tour was uncomfortable, even jarring, for me and others, since it described history from the Viet Cong perspective. Our guide noted the exploits of a special "hero girl" who had killed more Americans than any other guerilla fighter. The tour included an exhibition of the various booby traps that the Viet Cong constructed and a mural showing the effects of each device on the American soldier who triggered it. Devices were designed to wound rather than kill, enabling the Viet Cong to ambush those who attempted to transport the wounded to safety.

The Cu Chi Tunnel complex is a kind of "Viet Cong Land" (parallel in form and function to Disneyland). The exhibitions are designed to entertain while showing what life was like in the tunnels during the "American War."

We were encouraged to crawl through a section of a tunnel, which was enlarged so that Western-size people could pass through. Many students were uncomfortable in the darkness and heat – crawling in the confining environment was unpleasant and exhausting.

Our guide described the strategies used by the Viet Cong as the war progressed. American troops attempted to flood the tunnels with water. Because passages were connected to the Saigon River, the system drained without problem. The Americans directed Filipino soldiers, who are a similar size to the Vietnamese, to crawl through the passages to find the Viet Cong. Special booby traps were designed to disable these soldiers. The Americans brought in German Shepherd dogs to detect the Vietnamese guerillas by scent. Guerilla fighters spread chili peppers in tunnel passages, and washed with stolen American soap, to acquire the same scent as Americans, thereby fooling the dogs. The Viet Cong also set up special traps for the dogs similar to those designed to injure Filipinos.

Fighters living in the tunnels prepared their meals in special kitchens. They designed a complex system of filters to conceal smoke from cooking fires. Cooking was done only in the morning so that escaping smoke blended with the morning mists. Food consisted mainly of tapioca, which grew in the area.

During a break in our tour, we sat at long wooden tables and were offered tapioca and tea. The tapioca was bland, and we were invited to dip it into a tasty seasoning before eating. It was late in the morning and the tunnel crawling had worked up our appetites. My group finished our serving. "We should eat this all the time," one student observed. "Then we wouldn't be so spoiled."

As the war progressed, the American forces gained control of the tunnels. They killed 10,000 of the 16,000 Viet Cong in Cu Chi. Our tour guide did not mention that the tunnels eventually ceased to be a threat to American troops. Although the tunnels were eventually neutralized, the cost in lives was high. Our guide noted precise figures of how many Americans were killed during each of various campaigns. Both sides spent so much blood and money! The Americans were trying to thwart the spread of Communism and failed. The Vietnamese sought to reduce American influence. They experienced terrible deprivation and starvation after the war ended. Today, the Communist government is allowing globalization to shape Vietnam; so it seems that capitalism has triumphed. One might wonder why both sides thought it so necessary to fight?

Postcard from Ho Chi Minh City, Vietnam

Today we arrived in Ho Chi Minh City -- which most local people still call Saigon. During the days leading up to our visit to Vietnam, we professors educated our students on the history of Vietnam and the role of the USA in that history. Among the Vietnamese people, 85% are Buddhist and over 10% are Catholic. After the Franco-Viet War (1946-1954), the Geneva Accords provided for a temporary division, creating North South Viet Nam. The plan for the country's unification was interrupted by the American intervention. The "American War" (as labeled by the Vietnamese) was the longest military conflict in US history. This war cost the lives of over 58,000 Americans, 3-4 million Vietnamese, and 1.5-2 million Lao and Cambodians. I presented a slide comparing the rate of American fatalities in Vietnam to the present fatalities in Iraq. These numbers pale compared to the Vietnamese, Cambodian, and Laotian losses. Although Cambodia is famous for the terrible slaughter associated with the Khmer Rouge (the Communists in Cambodia), Vietnam suffered far greater casualties.

I served in Vietnam (1970-1971) in the US Army as an advisor to Army of the Republic of Vietnam Combat Engineer Battalions. It was a difficult assignment. I had no desire to return to Vietnam and do not plan to visit the Mekong Delta where I was stationed (Semester at Sea offered an excursion there). I return to Vietnam only because this is one of the ports that the ship is visiting.

The ship docked in an unsightly port facility, and after a lengthy immigration process we were cleared to disembark. We were told that we will be a shuttled by bus to and from the downtown area because the government does not want cyclo drivers to congregate at the port gate. I took the bus into Ho Chi Minh City where we were discharged close to the People's Committee Hall.

I changed some money at a bank and made my way to the Ben Thanh Market – a huge building where you can buy almost anything – so, of course, I bought souvenirs and presents for Karen. Crossing streets in Ho Chi Minh City involves dodging hordes of motorcycles – many carrying more than one person. This is a modern city with tall buildings, healthy looking people, and shops full of stuff for sale, as well as an air pollution problem.

I took a taxi to the Mental Health Center – in a relatively distant district of Saigon. The grounds of the hospital were undergoing major construction, perhaps the installation of water or sewer pipes. I had not been able to pre-arrange a student trip here, but thought I'd take a chance on being able to meet some doctors and patients here so we could compare mental health care here to other countries. I sat in the waiting area and observed my surroundings. In my class, we had discussed the deep stigma of mental disorder in Vietnam, a problem prevalent in many Asian countries. Even though my Vietnamese language skills are marginal, it was easy to identify which family members were mentally disordered. One can detect symptoms of distress merely by looking into the eyes of many these patients. Some were clearly manic (one woman broke away from her family in order to attempt to talk with me); others were severely depressed; some were responding to internal stimuli. It appears that something is going on with each person's brain chemistry causing these symptoms. I talked with a psychiatrist who explained that he had to seek permission from his supervisor before he could speak with me. After a lengthy search, the supervisor could not be found. He granted me permission to take photographs of the treatment facilities (I carefully avoided patients' faces). A security guard stopped me from returning to the main waiting area so I gave up my attempts to gather information. The treatment situation appears grim; the staff is working diligently to process the many people waiting to see a doctor. Although I did not get a close look at inpatient facilities, my impression from looking at the building environment is that this situation is also grim.

I returned by taxi to the market – a trip that cost only one fourth of what the original journey cost (I suppose the first driver used a circuitous route). I must admit that it is extremely strange for me to be in Saigon again. The buildings are different but the people are the same. I see many European, Japanese, and American tourists purchasing souvenirs such as conical hats, tee shirts and other clothing items. The average Vietnamese person was born after the "American War" ended and is not much concerned with this history. Although Vietnam is the poorest country we will visit on our Semester at Sea voyage, it is developing rapidly due to globalization. The increase in trade among nations is benefiting some countries to a far greater extent than others and the gap between the rich and poor within and among nations is increasing. Vietnam is a country that does not fit this pattern. It is a poor country that is growing rapidly economically – benefiting from globalization more than most others. This makes for a strange form of Communist government – one that supports capitalist expansion.

Happy Birthday to Jim!

3/24/08 from Karen:

Today is Jim's birthday (you'll have to guess how old - I won't tell). Although I was not able to share the day with Jim, I have it on good authority that his cabin door was plastered with birthday greetings when he awoke, and that greetings for him were called out over the PA system and noted in the daily Dean's Memo.

Our wonderful adopted children, Porter and Mallory, took Jim "out" to dinner on Deck 5, and a good time was had by all, including singing and cake.

Happy Birthday love!

Further Adventures in Penang and the Qi Gong Master

3/21

On Friday, I went to "India Town" to buy a present for Karen. I ate food at various restaurants. Penang is a fairly clean place and it is even safe to eat from street food venders. In the evening, I went with a fellow professor and his wife to the Snake Temple – another Taoist temple honoring Kuan Yin. This temple is known for its ability to provide healing and its capacity to attract snakes. On arrival, we found that, in recent years, the temple's snake population has declined because the land surrounding the temple has been developed. Penang is filled with high-rise condos and apartments – it is experiencing an economic boom, which has been good for the people but not so good for the snakes. People must feed the temple snakes to keep them alive.

Afterward we went to the night market and ate Roti Canai – a bread of the type also made in Chenai, India. It is made like pizza in that the maker must toss the dough so that it acquires its flatness – then the bread is fried while clarified butter and herbs are applied to the top – after frying, it is folded for serving.

3/22

The next day, I led a Semester at Sea trip to see a presentation by a Qi Gong master. Taoism is the original religion of ancient China – and many Chinese people in Penang have adapted a combination of Taoism and Buddhism. According to Taoist tradition, Qi is the energy that pervades the universe. Qi Gong is the skill that allows a person to direct this energy. The Qi Gong master taught us meditation exercises so that we could develop our own skills in this area and gave a healing demonstration using one of our students. The student said afterward that, during the demonstration, she felt a powerful energy flowing through her legs. She reported that the feeling continued even an hour after the demonstration ended. The Qi Gong master suggested that the student's ankle problem would be alleviated and that any other problems that anyone in the room might have would also be cured. I found the Qi Gong master to be an extremely positive person – quite a pleasant individual -- and I am not surprised that people seek his services all over the world. I had a student take my photograph with the master.

3/23

On my last day in Penang, I went back to the local Quan Yin temple (the one without snakes) and learned how to do the rituals. People purchase two candles, a large bundle of incense, and a kind of spiritual paper money. They light their candles and place one on each side of a main altar. After performing this action, one must distribute the incense sticks, three at a time, to sandboxes in front of the many altars throughout the temple. Each altar requires some praying. Prayer involves doing a kind of bowing motion three times and then placing three sticks of incense in front of the altar. There are enough altars so that all the sticks in the bundle are used up. Then the paper money is placed in a kind of furnace where it is burnt – sent to the spirit world where it can pay for the requested spiritual services. Maybe the ancestors need some pocket money for living in the heavenly realm – or perhaps Quan Yin needs cash for doing good deeds.

Temples of Malaysia

3/20/08 from Jim:

Today I visited a variety of religious institutions in Penang. First was the Kek Lok Si Temple, one of the largest Buddhist temple complexes in Southeast Asia – and probably the most beautiful. The pagoda has seven stories and is a mixture of Chinese (first three stories), Thai (fourth and fifth stories), and Burmese (sixth and seventh stories) architecture and craftsmanship. Construction began in 1888 and was completed in 1927. Visiting this place involves a long, hot climb that snakes through a market place filled with souvenirs related to the temple. We are talking about a major tourist attraction here – something that combines religion with Disneyland. The process involves countless stairs and walkways going past shops –just to get to the first story of the temple! The inside of the temple has a long spiral staircase (with 10,000 images of the Buddha). It was a really hot day; I was sweating like crazy by the time I got to the top!

We visited a modern state Muslim mosque – sometimes called the floating mosque because it is built out over the water. Although we were told that we could not enter the mosque, the official on site seemed friendly. He said we could stick our cameras inside and take a few pictures. Then later, he said we could go in after all. The Muslims are a bit more relaxed here than in some places. Our female students were all properly clothed in modest garb – all had head coverings and were not revealing too much skin – so I guess we passed some sort of test and were allowed inside.

Then we visited the Taoist Kuan Yin Temple – Kuan Yin is the Goddess of Mercy. The temple was built in 1800 and is thought to be the oldest Taoist temple in Penang. The female "immortal" Kuan Yin is open to petitions from those who need help and her specialty is compassion for everyone. There are many stories regarding her origin and some scholars argue that she originated with a particular compassionate male deity in India. These scholars believe that, as stories of this deity traveled to China, Kuan Yin became a female. A local story states that Kuan Yin's father, an evil king, demanded that she marry a particular man. She refused, as she wished to devote her life to religion. In one story, she became a Buddhist nun and her father killed her by burning down the nunnery. Kuan Yin was taken by a devil to hell – but her saintliness caused the hellish domain to turn into a paradise. Later, the father developed a terrible skin disease (probably related to the stress of being so evil). His virtuous daughter was able to cure the terminal illness by giving up her eyes and arms (being killed did not end her life as there is life after death – or in another story, the executor's blade shattered again and again so that she could not be executed). This act of filial piety demonstrated her deep compassion – something worthy of worship – particularly since she grants whatever wishes are addressed to her. If you ask for something, Kuan Yin will give it. The temple was filled with people offering incense and burning candles while making petitions.

Afterward, we visited the Anglican Church built in memory of the British Captain Francis Light, founder of Penang.

We also visited some colorful Hindu temples, the kind that Karen really likes, similar to the ones
we visited in India.

Visit to Penang Psychiatric Hospital

From Jim:

3/I9

Today I took a group of 16 students to visit the psychiatric hospital in Penang. We talked with Dr. Lau, the psychiatrist in charge of the Department of Psychiatry and Mental Health of Penang General Hospital. He told us about the various departments and services and explained that they were very short of staff; they have four psychiatrists and one clinical psychologist. Last year they saw over 15, 000 patients – maybe 150 patients a day.

Mental disorder is very stigmatized in Malaysia and a person suffering from psychosis is often not taken to the hospital but brought to a spiritual healer. Malays bring their psychotic relative to someone who can take off the evil spell thought to cause the problem. Chinese people might bring the person to a kind of medium since the problem is thought to be caused by a spirit. A psychotic person suffers from his/her disorder for, on average, three years before being brought to the hospital for treatment. The most typical story told by a person suffering from psychosis is that he or she is suffering because someone cast a spell that is causing the problem – this is a Malay explanation for psychosis. Chinese people might regard an ancestral spirit as causing the problem.

Malaysia has a high rate of substance abuse problems. Alcoholism is a far greater problem among those of Indian descent than it is among Moslems (who are prohibited from drinking alcohol). Malaysia also has a real heroin problem and the hospital has methadone programs to deal with this.

Dr. Lau explained that all the various drugs available in the USA are available in Malaysia but the more expensive drugs (such as Risperdal and Seroquel which are used to treat psychosis and sometimes bipolar disorder) are so expensive that they are often not considered "cost effective." The Malaysian health care system provides free medical care and medication but will not pay for the more expensive drugs.

The stigma associated with mental disorder affects social services. Mental health issues are not regarded as a form of handicap that allows welfare support. People disabled by mental illness must depend on their families. Someone who has been working at a job for 16 years can get workers' compensation which has a kind of "no fault" clause regarding reason for not being able to work but most patients at the hospital have not been working that long.

The legal system regarding mental illness is quite different than that in the USA – a person can be held for three months in the mental hospital if a "Form A" is issued by a doctor. If a "Form B" is issued, then the person can be held for observation but not treated. "Form C," submitted by the family also allows a person to be held against his/her will. The doctor determines when the person can get out and the doctor has the power (in most cases) to force the patient to take medications.

The hospital has a kind of work training and therapy program. We watched patients assembling small purses, which the hospital sells. They also make a variety of other small items that can be sold.

The students were allowed to interact with the patients – to a degree. Only a few patients spoke English but there was great excitement among many of them when we were allowed to come into their rooms. I shook the hand of virtually every patient in the men's ward and when we visited the women's ward, one patient sang a song (which probably reflected her disorder but was very entertaining). The students found their experience to be eye opening – and it seemed to me that the patients' living conditions were probably better than they are in my hospital in Virginia. Most patients are allowed to go outside each day and walk around in a very beautiful garden which they tend.

Postcard from Penang, Malaysia

3/19

From Jim:

Karen went home for Lauren and Peter's wedding, and I am missing her very much.

Malaysia is a predominately Moslem country – It was granted independence by the British in 1963 – and, from the beginning experienced problems due to the fact that the ethnic Chinese were much wealthier than the people whose ancestors were born in Malaysia – the Malays. The Malays set up a government that grants them special benefits with the goal of improving their economic position – and the Chinese are not especially happy about this situation. As a result, Singapore broke off from Malaysia (or was booted out, in a way) and became a separate country in 1965. So, at present, Singapore is a country which is actually the city of Singapore.

Malaysia consists of about 62% Malays, 24% ethnic Chinese (Malaysians whose ancestors came from China), and 7% ethnic Indians (Malaysians whose ancestors came from India).

Singapore has different demographics: about 77% are ethnic Chinese, only 8% are Malays, and 8% are ethnic Indians. Singapore is much wealthier than Malaysia. But Malaysia has experienced an economic boom in recent years – and Penang has tall buildings and has far less poverty than our previous ports of India, South Africa, and Brazil.

Malays tend to be Moslem while the Chinese are a mix of Buddhism, Confucianism, and Taoism. Most Indians, as in India, are Hindu – and they tend to be the same type (Tamils) as we met in Chennai. Penang differs from the rest of Malaysia in that it has a slightly greater percentage of Indians compared to Malays. Malaysia just completed a major election and the Chinese in Penang voted not the support the party in power – it is not clear if the government will be able to continue its policies of extending help to people whose ancestors were born in Malaysia.

Penang is an island (about half the size of Singapore) but is connected to the mainland by a long, long bridge (How long? Very, very long – I don't know exactly how long).

Penang does not have a harbor that allows our ship to dock – so we must take a tender (a small boat) to the dock. We are using our lifeboats from the ship as tenders which seem quite adequate for the task – one runs back and forth to the dock every half hour.

Karen Goes Home

3/15

After the briefest of naps, we got up at midnight for the trip to Chennai Airport. This entailed being cleared by the customs official aboard ship, lugging two huge suitcases down 5 decks (thanks Jim!) and being driven by the customs official to the gate, where our taxi should have been waiting - but was not.

Luckily the customs official had his cell phone, and called back to the taxi company, finding out where the taxi-wala was waiting (about 3 miles away - we never would have found him) and handing us off. Jim had agreed to ride with me to the airport to make sure I got off okay - my anxiety level was running high...

Got to the airport (goodbye my love!) and took several wrong turns before finding the very long line for the flight to Doha, Qatar. I had arrived early - about 1:45 - for my 4:30 flight, and thought I'd have lots of sitting and waiting to do, but ended up standing on various lines for the whole night! It's bad enough that it takes two hours to check baggage, but Indians (and Asians in general) just don't believe in forming an orderly queue, and insist on shoving and pushing as a normal way of doing things (as if it would make the plane come any faster...).

So, you don't need to hear the minutiae of my three flights home (but tell Malcom to check out the artificial islands at Doha made for millionaire (billionaire?) mansions - they are very impressive from the air!) Here's the rundown:
Ship to takeoff at Chennai Airport = 5 hours
Chennai to Doha = 4 hours
Layover at Doha = 5 hours
Doha to Washington DC = 14 hours
Layover at DC = 3 hours
DC to Norfolk = 1 hour
Tired mom sees Peter and Lauren waiting in airport and bursts into grateful tears at 11:40 pm - I made it home in one 32 hour day - it's still the 15th! I had been unable to get any sleep on the plane, so intend to spend the next several days decompressing and getting my body back on Eastern Daylight Time...

From Jim: After dropping Karen off at the airport, the taxi was supposed to take me back to the ship, but I was due for another big adventure -- the cab-wala would not take me to gate 7! The cabbie dropped me back where he had been waiting at midnight -- about 3 miles from where he was supposed to be-- so I had to walk in the dark, in the rain, make a dangerous crossing of the railroad tracks - got lost - found my way to gate 8 -- and eventually gate 7. No sleep for me this night either - India wins again!!!

Trip to the Engineering College

3/14/08

Today we accompanied a small group of students (16 were signed up to attend, but only 5 showed up - always a problem when trips are scheduled before noon..) to visit an Engineering College here in the city. Formerly a Women's Engineering College, it's recently gone coed. The college is clean and modern, but unfortunately, our first impression was of the steaming garbage dump (with scavenging cows) adjacent to the golden entrance gate.

We were greeted with flowers, sprinkled with rose water and received red dots and yellow stripes on our foreheads (the meaning of which was not explained to us, but we wore them proudly). We were ushered into a conference room that contained the deans and all the professors of the college, as well as the group of students who had been hand-picked to accompany us for the day.

As the only grownups in the group, Jim and I were handed a microphone and asked to address the assembly - something Jim does with ease, but, as my status these past few months has been "spouse only", I was not really prepared for. I did my best. We were given a tour of the laboratories and shown the engineering projects the students are working on. Each of us was flanked by two students who kept us informed of what we were seeing, and peppered us with questions. When asked what kind of professor I was, I said I was not a professor, but that when I was a student I had majored in marketing. Within minutes, the young lady who had been at my side was whisked away and replaced by a marketing student, who proceeded to ask me about marketing in America!

As we toured, my student asked if I would like to see their marketing department. Sure! said I. We left the group and walked into another building, where my student (I'm sorry that I did not capture his name) introduced me to his dean. Before I knew it, I was ushered into a large lecture hall, introduced as the Marketing Professor from the University of Virginia, handed a microphone and asked to address all the business students on my subject!

Well... I gave them about one minute of what I remember about marketing, and several more on how happy I was to be in Chennai (liar liar pants on fire). Luckily, a student then asked what I was doing in India, so I talked for a while about the Semester at Sea. Whew!

Then it was back to the main group for a demonstration of Indian singing and dancing, followed by a tradional lunch on a banana leaf (lucky I had practiced in Mauitius, remembering not to use my left hand...)

We were then taken to someone's house to see a "typical Indian home". A lovely, well furnished home, it was probably typical of the top 2% of residents in Chennai. The homeowner was very gracious, and showed us pictures of her daughter's wedding (if you don't know about lavish Indian weddings, rent one of the many movies that cover the subject, like Monsoon Wedding or The Namesake).

Then it was off to one more temple, a living Shiva temple in the heart of the city. This one had all its colorful painted figures (they repaint them every twelve years) and people lined up to offer flowers and candles to the gods and give thanks for their blessings. Our guide burned some jasmine flowers, and gave us the sacred ash to place on our foreheads and to take home to our home altar. It was an appropriate last act for the day, as I am traveling home tonight

India Wins Again!

3/13/08

Today is our free day, and we planned to take an auto rickshaw into the city and go to the market to shop for souvenirs. We were cautioned on the ship that many things that should be simple are difficult in India, and that it is best to not set your expectations very high. The saying here when things go wrong is, "India Wins Again!" Well, that's the kind of day we had today.

We had no trouble hiring an auto rickshaw, but we were absolutely unable to convince the driver to take us where we wanted to go (the market).

It was too far and cost too much money, he said, but he would take us to a better place! Luckily, we passed by the Basilica of St. Thomas the Apostle, so asked the driver to let us off there instead. "Okay," he said, "you flay". (We thought he wanted pay, but evidently he was encouraging us to PRAY.) He followed us into the tomb, helpfully pointing out all the relics, statues and other things he thought we might find interesting (in addition to a piece of Thomas and the arrowhead that did him in, there are relics of four or five other saints – pieces of saint that look just like dried apple slices…) As with all living temples in India, we had to take off our shoes before entering the sanctuary.

Even though I go to St. Thomas Church in Chesapeake, I hadn't known that Doubting Thomas had ended his ministry in Chennai (52 AD) preaching the Good News to the Indians until a native took his life with a spear. There is a lifesized diorama of this event in the tomb, also a lifesize image of Thomas reposing peacefully under a glass altar in the chapel. I'm glad we got to see it.

Back in the auto rickshaw, we tried again for the market, but instead were delivered to a high priced government shop that sold oriental rugs and diamonds (a little out of our price range). We found put aferward that the rickshaw drivers receive a commission for every tourist they deliver to one of these shops. By this time we were grimy, short-tempered and more than ready for lunch, so we asked to be taken to a restaurant. At this, the driver said we were costing him too much gas, and he couldn't hang around anymore. He tried to get us to pay 400 rupees (we had originally agreed to 200 for the whole day), but he went away for 100. ($1 = 40 rupees) A relief!

After a lovely curry lunch, we walked back onto the street and were immediately assailed by several new rickshaw drivers, and we thought we'd have better luck. After choosing a promising one and agreeing on a price, we were taken to ANOTHER rug and diamond shop! At this point we gave up trying to get to the market, and asked to be taken back to the ship. At this, the driver pulled over and said he was out of gas! We flagged down another driver and tried again to get home. This guy took us to where we could see the ship several busy streets over, but would not take us any closer, and wanted full pay. We got out and started to walk on the grimy road, with him driving alongside demanding money. Eventually he got tired and tootled off as we marched grimly on.

We had more than 3 miles to get back to the port (not a long distance for the hiking Franza McClenons, but not in this environment) so we got into a fourth rickshaw and repeated our request. We got as far as the railroad tracks, but a train was coming so the driver said we could go no further. Luckily the train was a short one, so as we were arguing the gate lifted and he agreed to take us to our dock. Finally! Big Blue never looked so good!

As we trudged up the five flights to the gangway, the sky turned an ominous gray, and within minutes after we boarded ship the skies opened in a pelting rain. India Wins Again!

Tales of the Temples

3/12

Today we boarded a bus bright and early to visit Kancheepuram, about two hours west of the city, and one of the most sacred places of pilgrimage for Hindus. There are over 100 living shrines in the area, and we visited a Shiva temple and a Vishnu temple that dated from the 7^th century.

The Shiva temple was built of sandstone, so much of the detail and most of the colorful paint has eroded over time, but so much of the intricate detail remains that it is really amazing. At the Vishnu temple we encountered many families on pilgrimage who had shaved their heads (men, women and children) as a token that external beauty was not important. Our guide was excellent, and filled us so full of Hindu facts that I don't know what to include here.

Everywhere we went, children followed us and asked to have their pictures taken - they just loved seeing themselves on the camera screen!

A humorous aside: as our bus lumbered down the highway, a small tricycle truck cut in front of us, causing our driver to slam hard on the brakes. The driver jumped out of the bus and started yelling at the truck driver. Our guide, who was in the middle of explaining about India's history, saw what had happened, and excused herself, saying, "I've got to get into the fight with this guy." So the two of them are yelling in Tamil and gesturing at the busload of us, sitting with our mouths open, and then the busdriver hauled off and slapped the truckdriver full across the face! The guy made no effort to retaliate, and, fully chastened I guess, got back in his little truck and tootled away!

After a super lunch in a fancy resort (which looked so out of place from the rest of the city that I didn't even take a picture of it – manicured lawns and landscaping just isn't India…more like Las Vegas, but the ship spares no expense to assure we won't get sick!) we drove to Mamallapuram, which is right at the seashore, and has temples even older than the ones we saw in the morning. Several years ago a giant tsunami did much damage to southern India, but, as Indians don't build houses at the waterfront (they do not swim) the damage could have been much worse.

We got to see the biggest bas-relief in the world, called "Arjuna's Penance", which has hundreds of animal, human, god and angel images carved into one long piece of granite. The carvings had been covered by the sands of time, and were excavated by the British in the 1700s for all to see. Incredible!

Remember the $4 watch that Jim bought in Mauritius? Well, it stopped working, so when one of the hawkers outside the temple ("postcards, madam?" Elephant carving, sir?") offered to trade a picture of Ganesha (Shiva's son that has the head of an elephant) for the watch, Jim readily agreed – may the gods smile down on that deal!