Postcard from Chennai, India

3/11/08

We arrived early this morning at a commercial dock, surrounded by stacks of containers from China and literally thousands of pint-sized Hundai autos awaiting export. The day is gray, and it's hard to tell if this is a result of weather or smog. There is a distinctive odor that seeped onto the ship as soon as we entered the harbor, which sort of reminded me of Brooklyn – old grime, pollution and dirty water… Jim calls Chennai "the Detroit of India."

They say there are three seasons in Chennai – hot, hotter and hottest! We are in the "hotter", but we lucked out in getting an overcast day, instead of a blazingly sunny one.

India still reflects the bureaucracy of their British heritage, so we had an extensive customs drill on the ship, and were issued "port passes" which we must carry with us at all times and present when leaving or entering the dock area.

There is nothing within walking distance of the ship but more containers and more cars, so those traveling independently around the city must hire a cyclo (bicycle rickshaw that holds two) to get to the customs gate, then hire an auto rickshaw (with a 2 stroke lawnmower engine instead of pedals) to get any appreciable distance within the city.

We were spared the transport negotiations today, as Jim took another busload of Sociology of Mental Health students to a Schizophrenia Treatment Center about 45 minutes from the dock. This gave us a fly-by overview of a good part of the city. We had been warned about the crazy traffic and the number of pedestrian fatalities and injuries (and that no one will stop for an accident unless a cow is involved!). The traffic lights are considered "suggestions", and basically, the bigger vehicle always has the right of way. Karen's opinion: worse than Brooklyn, but nowhere near as bad as Tehran!

The city contains stately old British buildings (the train station, the absolutely huge general hospital, the government offices) lots of new high rises under construction ( the I.T. boom is moving beyond Bangalore into Chennai and surrounding areas) juxtaposed with men sleeping on the street and lean-to shacks of cardboard with sheetmetal or thatched roofs. There are no sidewalks, so the big vehicles use the middle of the road, the rickshaws and motor scooters use the margins, then the bicycles, and the pedestrians do their best to stay out of the way.

We arrived at the Schizophrenia Center and were ushered into a meeting room. Unfortunately, we spent our entire time in that same room, and were not permitted to tour the facility or to meet any of the patients (a big disappointment). It turns out that there are no HIPPA laws here, no patient rights, and the doctors can medicate the patients with or without their consent. If a patient refuses to take their meds, the meds are "administered surreptitiously" by hiding them in the food! The psychologist was very accommodating and answered all our questions. The center has very high success rates for treating schizophrenia, but this appears to be because they don't treat the poor or homeless, the way we do in the U.S.

Passage to India

3/6/08

Our focus on board has turned to all things Hindu as we approach Chennai (formerly Madras) in the southern state of Tamil Nadu, India.  The country is a portrait of contradictions (much like our own) with a growing high tech sector and middle class juxtaposed on incredible poverty.  This is the only place on our voyage where we must take anti-malaria medication even if we are staying in the city.

Here's an interesting tidbit for the females among us… Although the British tried to legislate out the caste system, the dowry system of marriage and the practice of feticide or infanticide of female children, the practices are still very much with us today.  The family structure is such that having a son gives the family security for the future – a wage earner to support parents in their old age, and a future daughter-in-law who will join the husband's household.  Although Indian parents very much love their daughters, they can't afford to have very many, as each one must be married off at huge expense, and will no longer be part of the family after marriage.  The local saying is that raising a daughter is "like watering someone else's garden."

Globalization has made this problem worse instead of better in the last generation, as portable ultrasound equipment is very available to determine the sex of an unborn child, and abortion is legal.  In some cities, the ratio of women to men is only 800 per thousand men.  This has resulted in "bachelor villages" consisting entirely of working class men who can never aspire to marriage due to lack of available women.  You'd think this would make women a valuable commodity, but this is not yet so.  The woman's family wants their daughter to "marry up" into a wealthier or more prestigious family, and is willing to finance a huge dowry to make this happen, even if it means going heavily into debt for years (hmmm…  not SO different from big American weddings…)

Due again to globalization, the prospective husband's family now wants expensive items previously beyond their reach, like new cars and appliances as well as money, and marriage may be their only opportunity to acquire these things.  The husband's family can continue extorting additional payment from the bride's family for years.  If their demands are not met, the bride can be doused with fuel and set afire, freeing the son to make a new match.  The law currently states that if a woman dies within seven years of her marriage, her husband's family is considered guilty unless they can prove innocence!

3/8

Today is the Semester at Sea Olympics, with classes canceled in favor of competition among the different dorms (called Seas here) in such areas as Slippery Twister, Synchronized Swimming, Hawaiian Bowling (using bars of soap) The Dean Says (Simon Says) and Mashed Potato Sculpting.  My personal event was the photo Scavenger Hunt.  The faculty, staff and Lifelong Learners banded together to become the Silver Sea.  Our motto?  "We may be old, but we're gonna take the Gold!"  And how did the old folks do, you may ask?  We creamed the kids in the Scrabble tournament, and sustained bruises to emerge victorious in Musical Chairs.  Overall, we ended up in 5^th place out of the nine Seas – not too shabby for old folks!   Oh, and my event?   Bronze!

More from Mauritius

3/2

On Sunday we walked to the covered market where everything from fresh fruit and dried octopus, to cashmere shawls and tourist items containing images of the poor defunct dodo bird (remember from Alice in Wonderland?) were available to be haggled over. Jim had broken his watchband on the mountain the day before, so treated himself to a $4.00 replacement watch, which is still running! The negotiations in the market are tough – for a $5.00 item ($1 = 27 rupees) they start by asking $50.00 and you have to walk away in disgust and wait for them to run after you with a reasonable price. The process was tiring, and Jim says it will get worse next week in India…

3/3

Today we signed up for a tour of the native flora and fauna, and got treated to a close-up view of the annual Shiva festival that the Hindus who honor Shiva are celebrating this week. Mauritians of Indian descent from all over the island travel on foot to the Shiva temple, many of them wearing or carrying elaborate shrines to Shiva on their shoulders. Some of the shrines are so large (sort of like parade floats) that groups of four or more have to push them down the street. There are rest stops every so often on the side of the streets for the festival-bound to stop for free refreshments. While very festive and colorful (some include recorded music as well), the festival-goers caused terrific traffic jams on many of the roads, which enabled us to get some great pictures of the goings-on.

How are the Mauritians restoring their native flora, you might ask? They are pulling out everything that isn't native (in the national parks) which is just about everything. Personal opinion: they are pulling out the pretty stuff – the native plants just aren't so hot! And the fauna? It's way too late for the poor dodo bird, but the conservationists managed to bring back the pink pigeon, which was down to one nesting pair not too long ago, and now has 500. They've gone to neighboring islands to import tortoises and skinks that are pretty close to the ones that went extinct here, but many species are just gone for good.

3/4/08

For our last day in Mauritius, we visited a nursing school, an Ayurvedic hospital and a Chinese medical shop to learn about different medical practices in a place that supports four cultures living in harmony. The Mauritians are very proud of the peaceful way in which they coexist, with no racial or religious prejudice.

The highlight of the day was lunch, which was held at a restaurant that is in the home of a Mauritian family. We were served out in the garden in traditional southern Indian style. Instead of plates, the food was served on a banana leaf, and instead of utensils, it was eaten with the right hand. (Culture lesson: you only touch food with your right hand, whether you are right handed or left handed. Can you guess what the left hand is used for?) The kids really enjoyed themselves, and ate everything that was served, very little of which I could identify – there was green stuff, orange stuff, yellow stuff and white stuff, with generous helpings of naan (fried bread). Delicious!

Postcard from Mauritius

3/1

We've barely caught our breath after Cape Town, and this morning we docked in Mauritius. Can you find it on the map? Look in the Indian Ocean, just to the right of Madagascar. This is the island discovered by the Portuguese, where the dodo bird used to live before the Dutch brought them to extinction in the 1600s (they really did taste like chicken!) Then came the French in the 1700s, who were there long enough to teach everyone their language and cut down the forests to plant sugar cane (still the main crop today). Then those darn British in the 1800s, who left their style of government and education, and brought over lots of folks from India to work the sugar cane.

Mauritius has about 1.2 million people on an island 20 x 40 miles long. Half the population is Hindu, followed by Muslim, Tamil (from Southern India), Catholic and Chinese. They speak a Creole sort of French, and are in the process of redefining their economy from agriculture to high tech and tourism.

The island has pure white beaches and clear blue water that looks like a swimming pool and is just as calm. They are trying to undo the environmental harm that was done by wiping out 98% of the forests and most of the native flora and fauna. This is a huge undertaking.

That said, the main city, Port Louis, is a city in transition, with some modern buildings, a lot of older, sadder buildings, a very industrial waterfront, and a busy dock area not really set up for tourists. We hopped on a bus and within 10 minutes, we were out of the city limits, and driving through mile after mile of sugar cane fields, on our way to our first adventure, climbing Le Pouce (the Thumb). Yes, there is a mountain that is shaped like a big ol' thumb's-up, and Jim and 27 students were determined to conquer it today. As there was not a cable car in sight, I had no choice but to go along…

The kids started off at a trot, and I couldn't keep up, and entertained thoughts of getting back on the bus, but one of the guides offered to stay back with me. Jim reminded me to set my own pace. I lagged behind, but after a while the kids got tired and slowed down too, and then I had plenty of company. The consensus of the girls was that I was doing much better than THEIR mothers would be able to do!

The trail up was graced with fields of white ginger and lantana, and although it was a warm, sunny day when we started, it got cool and breezy halfway up, and downright cold and windy when we reached the ridge. From that point we broke into small groups to scrabble up to the summit, which could only hold a few people at a time. One of the girls discovered she was afraid of heights, and sort of crawled up, but she made it. As always, the view from the top made the climb worthwhile.

As we started our descent, one of the boys turned his ankle and couldn't walk. Our guide wrapped the ankle in an ace bandage, but when it became obvious that the lad wasn't going to be able to walk down, the guide picked him up and carried him piggy-back down the mountain! How's that for customer service?

We had lunch at a lovely old colonial house named Eureka, which served us chicken curry and pickled olives. Then it was on to the Flic en Flac beach (named for the sound your flip flops make) for a swim in the absolutely clear blue water. A fine day.

The Company's Gardens and the Choir

2/24

For our last day in South Africa, we stayed in town, shopping and walking about. We visited a natural history museum, which had more examples of rock and cave art, and spent the afternoon in the Company's Gardens – a botanical preserve that dates back to the time of the Dutch colonials (Dutch East India Company) and is filled with shady paths, fountains, lots of birds and glorious gardens.

We acquired a Sunday paper in English, and caught up on the important news (the Oscar predictions, JLo's pregnancy and the further trials of Brittany…). I was interested to read the weekly feature that highlights one brave person who went for HIV/AIDS testing this week – there is a movement in this country to get every man, woman and child tested, and if you are the brave person who goes for the test, then you challenge 5 of your friends and relatives to get tested too, and their names are printed in the newspaper.

Learning about the spread of HIV/AIDS in this country has been a real eye-opener for me – an entire generation of orphans and households run by children. The last president of South Africa denied that HIV/AIDS had anything to do with sex and wouldn't allow education on the subject, and good old George Bush offered financial aid to the country, but only if the education about AIDS promoted abstinence (not just for the young people – for the whole country!). The people started educating themselves at a grass roots level, and getting the word out about testing and treatment over their public Cape Radio. They still have a long way to go, but the work has started.

During our last evening in port, a high school choir from the District Six township came aboard to give us a concert. About 30 young people, they were dressed in faded school uniforms, and had the vocal power of 300… They opened with the benediction that my St. Thomas choir sings each week, "The Lord bless you and keep you, the Lord lift his countenance upon you, and give you peace…" Anybody who knows me, knows that I was on my second Kleenex by the end of that song…

They sang for over an hour, a capella, in at least four languages, and raised the audience to their feet more times than I could count (and did some great dance moves which I'll be bringing home to show Pat and the St Thomas choir!) Their director shared that the students don't read music, they don't have a piano at the school, and learn and harmonize all their songs by ear, only using a pitch pipe. At the end of the hour, the choir sang themselves off the stage and down the gangway, followed by hundreds of SAS students yelling for an encore, The choir reassembled on the dock and sang one final song as the students hung over the side of the ship and cheered. It was a magical end to our stay in Cape Town…