Merry Christmas!

Still having a lovely time in Bangalore with friends. Will have to tell you more about it when I get a little more time, but wanted to send my wishes to you while they were only a little late. Has been a pleasure to celebrate with brothers and sisters on this side of the world--just wish I could be with many of you, also!

Holiday Traveling

In spite of the title I put on my last entry, I have been trying to squeeze in as much work as I can. In the past couple weeks we’ve started working quite aggressively on the project I came here to lead. The development method we’re using has us working in “sprints” for four to six weeks to complete components on the system, so we’re trying to “flat-out run” to get as much accomplished as we can by mid-January. Biggest problems: three India programmers waiting on one person (me) to define, as well as review, all their work, and a user (responsible for giving me direction in what they need) who lives in Dallas and basically sleeps while we work and works while we sleep. But it’s coming along, and it’s fun.

However, it’s Christmas time! Since Mary, Steve, and I are obviously not getting home to celebrate with family and friends, we were invited to spend the time with some fellow workers in Bangalore, about 200 miles away. So, enough of work, it’s time to celebrate!

First, of course, was the matter of getting to Bangalore. Steve bought train tickets weeks ago; our round trip cost each of us about $30. Yesterday morning I got up just after 4:00 AM, to be at the station by 6:00 AM. (We were actually there before 5:30 AM, so you know I wasn’t setting the schedule.) We took an express—no stops between the two cities—that I am told is the second fastest in India. I believe it; we were at the Bangalore station meeting our friends before 11:00 AM. And though we took a second-class coach, we traveled in very pleasant style. Even before leaving the station, I think, we were handed large bottles of water, along with an English newspaper .That was soon followed with a snack of plain cookies and coffee or tea. (South Indian coffee or tea, which means it was loaded with milk and sugar—which also means that I was happy to have it.) A little later they brought breakfast, consisting of a type of Indian bread that’s something like pancakes with onion, sauces to dip it in, and regular bread with butter and jam. This was follow by our choice of coffee or tea. All together it made for a very nice and comfortable trip.

So, we’re here for about ten days with our friends who have lived in India for close to two years. They have a lovely three-bedroom apartment that’s decorated beautifully for Christmas. And I’m already quite sure they have the gift of hospitality. Oh, and how could I forget to mention that the weather in Bangalore is significantly cooler than in Chennai! In fact, it had been downright cold—from what I hear—earlier in the week. Now it’s just plain lovely.

Yes, I’m still here suffering in India!

Working? Who’s working?

Greetings to my faithful readers who keep checking--at least periodically--even when I'm doing a very poor job of keeping you informed. Sometimes I'm too busy doing, and not taking the time to write about it.

Yesterday some of the Indians on our systems development team here took us out to a Chinese restaurant for lunch. That was quite fun, as well as tasty, and touching that they wanted to do something special like that for us.

Oh, and the day before we had a Christmas potluck at the office for lunch. Since many Hindus are vegetarians, there were tables on two opposite sides of the room: one for veg. and one for non-veg. Then there was a table in the middle for breads, sweets, bananas, etc. I used Mary’s large toaster oven (regular ovens are very rare here) to bake a vegetable quiche for my potluck offering and it came out pretty well. That was fortunate because it was placed on the middle table and was cut up into small enough portions that everyone who wanted could taste it. But other than that and a veggie pizza, it was strictly Indian fare. And it was very good! A prawn (shrimp) dish had a little “heat,” but I know now to scoop a little raitha (kind of an onion yogurt mix, in this case) with those bites and it’s not too bad.

The fun thing about that potluck was that it marked the end of their office Christmas game. It’s interesting to me that many in the office are not Christians in any sense, but they still participated. (Yes, many celebrations back home are totally secular, but this is India, where other religions are dominant, and sometimes blood is shed over their differences.) The game was kind of a twist on “Secret Santa,” but uniquely Indian. The person who drew the name was the “Chris-mom,” and responsible for giving a gift to his/her “Chris-child.” But that was only part of the “mom’s” role. The authority of a mother in India is undisputed—she is to be obeyed at any age! So these “moms” were to covertly pass instructions to the “child” during the week or so leading up to our lunch. The ones I observed included wearing traditional Indian clothing to work, passing out candy to everyone in the department/office (I enjoyed that one), and greeting everyone who entered the door with the traditional, formal Indian greeting (sounds like “wanna come”). As far as I know, no one was instructed to stay home for the day! We weren’t invited to participate in the game, though, so I have no personal accounts for you.

The actual office Christmas party was last Saturday night, though. I think most of the people from the office attended, but it was not at all secular. We sang carols, saw the gospel presented in drama, and listened to an evangelist. IT (Information Technology) professionals from other offices were also invited, and many came. I pray that hearts were touched.

Tying a Different Style of Knot

A week ago last Saturday—the Indians work Saturdays, and we can choose whether or not we go in also—I was working for a few hours, and one of my co-workers, whom I barely know since he works on another team, brought me two wedding invitations (one for Steve & Mary). They were for the Hindu wedding of his eldest brother, to be held the following Tuesday and Wednesday. As is common, the reception would be on Tuesday evening and the wedding the following morning. Generally, the wedding is attended by family and close friends, but exceptions are nearly always made for us foreigners. Since I had been told that I should try to attend one Hindu wedding while I was here, this seemed to be something I shouldn’t pass up.

With an escort provided by the office—are they afraid to let us out on our own?—we left a little after eight o’clock Wednesday morning in a cab for a ride to a somewhat distant part of Chennai. When we arrived around nine o’clock, the stated time of the start of the wedding, we were invited to go upstairs for breakfast. That was quite interesting, as we ate off banana leaves, and young men came around serving food out of metal buckets. I wish I had a picture of that meal, but will have to wait until I attend something similar.

After a while, the music downstairs got louder and we were informed that the ceremony was due to begin. As we went down to a good-sized hall and prepared to sit in about the 5th row from the front, the brother of the groom went up to the first row and had three people move back to make room for us! I felt bad, but there wasn’t much we could do. And it did give us the best view we could ask for.

That view still wasn’t great, as this ceremony is for the participants, rather than the spectators. But there was a man with a video camera, and some of the action was shown on the TV screen in the front as it was happening. (And it was informal enough, away from the couple, that Mary could walk up a ways to get some nice pictures.)

Up on a stage there was a square pavilion, about ten feet wide, I guess, covered with garlands. Within that sat a Hindu holy man, shirt-less, with a younger assistant standing nearby. As the bride and groom sat, stood, or walked throughout the ceremony, words were spoken, incense was lit, baskets and platters of food and various gifts were passed around. Nothing was actually explained, so I can’t tell you the meanings. There was a point later in the ceremony where a basket of colored rice was passed around and the guests all approached the pavilion to throw rice at the couple. (Thought that was quite interesting.) But that wasn’t the end, rather was followed by additional rituals. As you can see, it was certainly beautiful.

All in all it was interesting, but not something I’ll probably do again. Marriage is very sacred to the Indians, but it was sad to see them praying to false gods for theirs to succeed. Oh, and you might wonder whether the bride and groom had met before the ceremony. I don’t have that inside information, but based on the people I’ve talked to here, there’s a good chance that their parents arranged the match, but they were allowed to spend a little time getting to know each other before the wedding.

Having changed clothes for pictures and greeting guests:

Can you pick out the brother of the groom?

And these were just really cool. (Not for consumption!)

The Way to a Cat's Heart

There is a cat that often lives outside the home of my landlady. I say “often” because it’s common to hear it meowing at various times during the day or night. But it’s also not uncommon to see (and hear) no sign of it for a few days. The frustrating thing is that, no matter how much it would cry, when I would try to gently approach it, it would back away, sometimes even hissing. How it could cry for attention and do everything it could to avoid it made no sense to me. But, I suppose it wasn’t really attention that it craved.

Finally, last Sunday afternoon, I took some of my milk out to it while it was near the front door with the only one of its kittens that still seems to be around. Now milk it was very interested in. The kitten was interested, too, but a bit more nervous about my proximity. And that momma cat was not worried about saving some for the little one! But in its haste, the bigger one forgot to be wary, and I was able to gently pull it back from the small jar lid of milk. Alas, there was hardly a lick left, so I had to go inside for a little more. More milk, same story--but this time I was quicker to pull the momma away, and the small one had a nice little drink, also.

The interesting thing was that later that day when I walked slowly up to the momma cat, it allowed me to bend down and run my hand along its back several times. That was WAY easier than I expected it to be. Interestingly, it was several days before I saw the older cat again. Perhaps it was embarrassed by the ease with which it allowed itself to be befriended, and decided to beg elsewhere for a while. But it’s a start at friendship.

A safe place:

What's cuter than a kitten?

Meant to Blog

This evening (Sunday) I'm stuck at home while Steve and Mary are attending what promised to be a very nice choral concert at an old church over on the beach side of Chennai. The reason for my being left behind will be revealed in a later blog. To console myself, and pass the evening pleasantly, I thought I'd spend part of it watching one of Alain's DVDs, since he graciously offered us full use of them. I found one that I hadn't seen, but think I saw good reviews of, and settled in to be entertained.

Alas, the dreaded region code, which I had never even heard of until last week. Someone has cleverly come up with (and implemented) a plan to divide the world into seven regions and code each DVD that is created with one of those regions. A laptop is set up to play DVDs from only one region; those from other regions it will refuse to play. It's not that it can't play them, because there is an option to just change the region code in the laptop and let it play away. However, it can be changed just four times--well the Internet says five times, but mine says I have four left and I know I've never changed it--and then is stuck forever in that last region. Such a dilemma. Four precious changes! Do I use one on this evening's entertainment? I almost did. Why not change it now and then back to the US code in April? Certainly living in a different region for six months is a good reason to change it. Only one thing has held me back: I brought an exercise video with me, and I'm sure I'm going to start using it one of these mornings--probably even this week! (Go ahead and laugh.) I'm thinking I'd better leave my laptop set on the US region code and watch any movies over here on Steve or Alain's laptops.

So, at least in planning, I place fitness over entertainment. What shall I do this evening then? (Exercise might seem like the natural choice, but again, I'll let you know in a later blog why it isn't.) I know, I'm quite behind in my blogging. Last week contained a number of "firsts," so maybe I'd better get started telling you about them.

After the Shift

So, I've been in my new place for over a week now, and inquiring blog readers want to know. . .

I suppose it was the easiest shift/move of my life--one carload, complete with two men from the office to carry it all in for me. Setting up living quarters in two rooms is taking a little longer, but I'll tell you about that at a later date--after I've had time to straighten up a little.

For now, I thought I'd try to give you an idea of the setup of the houses here. I would have had a hard time finding nicer accomodations in Chennai than those that I enjoyed for my first month over here. I had a lovely, large room with attached bath. And I was treated like royalty by my hosts (except for the part about being locked out, I guess). But that was meant to be temporary right from the start. And the great thing about my new long-term place is that I'm within the same gate as my friends from Orlando and Switzerland. The guys don't have to walk me home at night any longer, and I can stop over for short visits easily. So here's your pictorial, outdoor tour.

My hostess is a widow in her 70s. She's a lovely Christian woman who is very concerned as to my comfort. This is her home, from the street. You can't really tell from the picture, and even in person would have to be told initially, but this is a somewhat upscale neighborhood. Here's the gate to her home. It is locked at night and sometimes during the day. Apparently there can be a problem with theft otherwise.The car belongs to her son and is usually parked inside the gate. It's nice having a black and white gate, as it is a little different, and so, easier to distinquish. Yes, I have a key; this one would be hard to scale, even with a boost!
Once you step inside the gate and look straight in from the street, this is what you see. The house to the right is where I'm staying. The one straight ahead is where Steve, Mary, and Alain live. These are the only two homes behind this gate.

Now if you walked in just a bit and then looked directly to your right, you'd see my hostess' front door on the street level, and her son's home up above. The style of the second floor is a little different, because he built it right on top of his parents' home, years after they had built theirs. It seems that that is common.
This view is at a little different angle.
My room is at the back--first floor, obviously. This is a view of my window--with wonderful, brand new air conditioner unit--taken from the door of my friends' place, looking almost out toward the street.

Conversely, here's their door, taken from just outside my window. If I were of a mind to enter my place via the window--there are metal bars, so it's not going to happen, no matter what doors are locked--I would have to take about ten steps from their place to mine. Actually, I use the front door of my hostess' place, so I have a walk of 30 to 40 feet, but all within the gate.

I'll throw in a couple more pictures for fun, and so you can see some of the vegetation. But that pretty much covers it. It's good to have a place in India to call "home."