Posted on April 9, 2017 under Monday Morning Musings with 3 comments

Humayuns Tomb – New Delhi Built in 1533

 

I left southern India last week, starting the long road back to Antigonish. I made two stops en route to the airport in Thiruvananthapuram to visit the young girls who are studying to become Sisters. I have been calling them “ noviciates “all this time… in error. As they are in their first year of training, they are called “ aspirants.” We had a great visit and sang “Let it Be” one last time.

So, arrangements had been made by the Sisters for someone to pick me up at one of the convents, to stay with their family overnight and then deliver me to the airport in the morning. A father and son tandem piled my belongings into their car and off we went. “ It will take about half an hour to get to our house,” said the son who spoke very good English. We were making great time when inexplicably, traffic ground to a complete stop. It was dark out and no one seemed to know what was happening. After sitting for about a half an hour, an ambulance went by and we thought for certain that this was the cause of the delay.

Wrong.

When traffic started moving again, we inched towards an intersection in a rural area… hardly where one would expect to find gridlock. Someone on foot walked by us and we found out that there was a major religious festival nearby. And it was just ending. There were thousands of vehicles trying to make it through the intersection… no traffic lights and no traffic police. When lawlessness breaks out, everyone and no one is in charge. Smack dab in the middle of total confusion were about a dozen young Indian men trying to make sense of the madness. They were screaming, yelling and flailing their arms desperately trying to break the logjam. Patience was not in abundance. I now believe that the ambulance may have been delivering victims of a fist fight amongst angry motorists. A thirty minute drive took two hours. I have never witnessed such bedlam.

The flight to Delhi was uneventful… no runway rage! Another friend of a friend picked me up. Berly is a great young guy. It had rained in Delhi the day before which cleared the air and caused the temperature to cool down to 38. There was no evidence of the legendary Delhi pollution. The streets were clean and tree lined and just a few minutes from my room, I saw the Lodi Gardens, an amazing green space covering 90 acres.

He drove me to my accommodations which were arranged by Sister Archana. She had never been there herself but found out about it through friends. It is a residence owned by an NGO called Integrated Social Initiatives. It’s sort of like the Coady. People come to the Institute to take courses and they end up staying in the dorm. Yes. The building reminded me of Mockler Hall in the 60’s. The rooms are very spartan.

Oh yes, the residence was in the middle of a small slum area. This didn’t bother me in the least as I have seen my share of poverty on this trip.

The next morning, I took a city bus tour. I had an image of Delhi that many people have: a large , dirty, polluted city of 19 million. I was astonished to see well organized traffic with people actually obeying the rules but even more remarkable was the “ greenness” of Delhi. Many of the streets are tree lined and there are large swaths of green space and parks. The air was relatively fresh and the sky was clear. No doubt the pollution will reappear after the rainfall cleared the air a few days earlier. It had all the appearances of a modern North American city.

My brother  Don arrived safely from Canada after a 24 hour delay with his flight. Yesterday, we decided to do a bit more sightseeing and did a tour with an  auto rickshaw driver. I won’t bore you with all the details but safe to say we were very impressed with the richness of the history of the place.

Sorry, Delhi if I have offended you in the past. You are now one of my favorite cities in the world. Once you get your pollution problem solved, people will flock to your door. I plan to explore the city when I come back to India next year.

I am posting this earlier than usual as we are on our way to the Taj Mahal today.

Have a great week.

 

Posted on April 6, 2017 under Thursday Tidbits with one comment

 

Three great women… and an old guy!

As I begin to reflect on my six months in India, I am pondering the things that amazed me, perplexed me and occasionally frustrated me. And make no mistake, India can frustrate you to the point of screaming. You need to have your wits about you at all times and keep your “ patience meter” well calibrated.

I don’t think you need to hear any more about demonetization, pollution ( garbage, environmental and noise ), traffic chaos, frequent power outages and unpredictable internet service.

The plusses have far outweighed the minuses.

I expect that somewhere along the way when I get back home, someone is bound to ask me what surprised me most. This is a pretty easy one to answer.

Religion.

I had no idea of the scope, intensity and fervor that religion plays in this country of 1.2 billion people. You simply can’t escape it. Every village, town and city is dotted with churches, temples and mosques. And I think it is fair to say that religion is very much an “ in your face” thing. It is hard to ignore when  religious groups place massive speakers inside and outside their premises with the volume cranked to 10 ALL THE TIME. It’s like there’s some kind of competition to see who can attract the most attention. And in many places, the entire community is hard wired with speakers linked to the church/temple/mosque so that everywhere you go , you can catch a service just as if you were there.

Religion simply dominates the landscape. For a guy from a small town, it seems a bit over the top.

And then there are the quiet foot soldiers who live their religion through quiet action, particularly their work with the poor, marginalized, mentally ill, the sick and the elderly. And I’m not just talking about people in religious orders.

Like our own Sisters of St. Martha and the Congregation of Notre Dame back in Antigonish, the Daughters of Mary do their profession proud with deeds and not words. If you are a regular reader of this column, you know that they work with all of the groups mentioned above. I don’t want to single out one thing they do that’s more important than the other, but their work with the mentally ill, is particularly impressive and noteworthy.

Mental illness is universal and many of us know someone who has suffered or is presently suffering from poor mental health. It is one thing to have access to top notch health care but for many people in other countries, getting quality mental health care is a bit of a crap shoot.

The Daughters of Mary operate two facilities for mentally ill women. These women have been cast aside by their families and society. At Emmaus, 100 women are provided a safe and warm home along with medical care. Many of these women  are moved to a rural residence called Assissi Farm when they are stabilized.

With no government funding ( some day I will do a full rant on this subject ), the Sisters are constantly challenged to make ends meet. In order to contribute financially to operational costs, Emmaus runs several small cottage industries with the residents providing the labor. It is a win/win proposition. Having a reason to get out of bed is important for all of us.

Emmaus manufactures hosts used in area churches. They do these in a tedious fashion using hand operated equipment. There is a large market for hosts that Emmaus cannot currently satisfy. They need new, modern equipment but making “ heavenly hosts” doesn’t come cheap. An automated host maker costs about $5,000.

I know many of you have already given to one of the other projects but maybe some of you haven’t and might want to help out. The Sisters received a major boost from Antigonish a few days ago. The Opportunity Shop , run by St. Ninian’s Catholic Women’s league have contributed $2500 towards the purchase of the host machine. ( Speaking of women who quietly go about doing so many good deeds! ). That means Emmaus needs another $2500 to buy the equipment. Sister Agnes Cordeau taught me math. I think that 25 donors @ $100 would do the trick!

Check out this video (    https://youtu.be/hCjtAWy1soc ) to learn more and click on the Daughters of Mary link on my website ( http://www.week45.com/supporting-the-daughters-of-mary-in-india/ to donate.

Have a great day.

Posted on April 3, 2017 under Monday Morning Musings with 4 comments

Keeping a cool head when it’s 36 degrees outside

 

“ In the misty moonlight, by the flickering firelight,

Any place is alright, long as I’m with you.”

In The Misty Moonlight. Jerry Wallace.      

 

1,000,00 rupees!

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you!

Many of you made donations to the Daughters of Mary in the comfort of your homes through e-transfers. Homes with running water, electricity and indoor plumbing. And many others trudged through snow covered sidewalks to make your contributions in person at the Bergengren Credit Union. Through your generosity we were able to purchase wheelchairs, wheelchair tricycles and a sewing machine. You also provided the funds to install an indoor bathroom at an orphanage for young boys. You provided clean drinking water to 50 homes in the leprosy community.

BTW. We’re still $200 short for the indoor bathroom at the orphanage. It’s not too late to give. (!)  Just follow this link. Thanks.  http://www.week45.com/supporting-the-daughters-of-mary-in-india/

I was invited to a farewell lunch by a family in nearby Nagercoil a few days ago. I hopped on the bus… a crowded bus I might add. And it was 35 degrees. This is NOT a complaint but merely the facts. It was an opportunity to take care of one final chore. I wanted to go to a photo shop to get the picture printed of the Sister holding her rosary, along with a frame. They successfully transferred the picture from my phone and they asked me to wait to make sure that the copy was good before they framed it.

 They asked for payment and suggested that I come back in an hour’s time to pick it up. I was delighted to see a sign on the wall that said, “ We accept all major credit and debit cards.” I slid my Mastercard across the counter. “ We don’t take international credit cards.” The owner of the shop was sitting within earshot. I drew their attention to the sign. They were apologetic but there wasn’t anything they could do. I paid in cash. When I returned two hours later, I looked up at the sign. Written in pen, underneath the misleading sign it read, “ Except International credit cards.”

My hosts decided to treat me to a famous Indian meal: chicken biryani. I haven’t eaten very much meat on the trip and was eagerly anticipating this repast. In order to ensure the freshest possible poultry, my host took me to a neighborhood shop.  I use the term very loosely . Her regular butcher shop was closed so we had to go somewhere else. “ Somewhere else” was the darkest, filthiest hovel I have seen in 5 months. No. In 65 years. It was so dark and the walls were so caked with dry blood, that the picture I took to prove I was there, wasn’t clear enough to publish. It was apparent that no Federal Food Inspection agency had ever stepped foot inside this establishment. EVER. Courage has limitations.

The proprietor was wearing clothes that he may have had on his back for years, possibly decades. There was no evidence of chickens, alive or deceased, in this concrete cave…. other than dried blood. He went upstairs and returned with a live chicken. He weighed it, chopped its head off, removed the feathers and expertly cut it into pieces. The total cost: 180 rupees ( $3.60 ).

The biryani, by the way, was spectacular.

I have been teaching some basic guitar to a number of people at the convent. On Saturday, I was giving Sister Rani a few pointers in the lobby of the B@B. There were no guests so we didn’t have to worry about aggravating anyone,  with a beginner trying to play a D Major chord for the first time. There always seems to be visitors at the convent… friends and friends of friends of the Sisters. Two Indian men were walking by the B@B and when they heard music ( ?!), they stopped in to say hello. They asked me if I would play a tune. Trying to find common ground was a bit tricky so we settled on “ Jingle Bells.” It seemed a bit odd “ dashing through the snow” with the thermometer registering 37 outside.

Just for a laugh, I sang Great Big Sea’s “The Old Black Rum.” Not sure if they understood a single word but they enjoyed it. And then one of them dropped a bombshell. “ “ Do you know any songs by Jim Reeves?” This man is from the neighboring state of Kerala and his favorite musician is none other than ” Gentleman Jim.”  I have since learned that Reeves was/is enormously popular in India and Sri Lanka. I grabbed my iphone and quickly pulled up Reeve’s discography. I recognized “ In The Misty Moonlight” and was quickly joined by my two new best Indian friends. They were ecstatic and both insisted on giving me bear hugs before departing.

Lying in bed that night I was thinking…. Southern India… Bed and Breakfast…  Jingle Bells…Jim Reeves. How in the name of God did all this happen?

“ Way up on the mountain, or way down in the valley

I know I’ll be happy, any place, anywhere…”

Next stop… Delhi.

Have a great week.