Week 26: Assisi

This photo shows the Hermitage Delle Carceri, where St. Francis of Assisi would go in the forests of Mt. Sabasio for silence and prayer – one wonderful place among many described in our experiences of this week.

Walking the narrow stone-paved lanes of Assisi really is like stepping into the medieval past. To all outward appearances, little has changed since the time of Francis. Of course many churches have been built since he died in 1226, but most of these also are at least 500 years old. Through various periods of papal rule, neglect, and civil strife the city (known here as a comune) has grown only slightly in population to 26,000 (only 6,000 of whom live within the crumbling walls of the old city). Strict building codes now preserve the ambiance and most roads (really pathways) are quite steep and winding (a challenge even for foot travel) and are so narrow as to allow only one-way traffic which, even then, would be hazardous to attempt in most automobiles.

Our home-base was La Rocca Hotel, an old monastery renovated inside to have all one could want (including internet access) in its small rooms. Located high up the hillside the city is built upon, on the southeast corner, the sun rises over vast rolling hills of forest interspersed with agricultural lands. Church bells welcome us in the early morning and pilgrims mixed with tourists are abundant on most streets thereafter. Each day seems to begin with clear blue skies, followed by periods of billowy white clouds and brilliant sunlight. Watching the city at sunrise from the nearby citadel of Rocca Maggiore, the panoramic view is breathtaking.

One can see the central square of Assisi (the Piazza Del Comune, dating from the 1st century BC), where Francis disrobed in full view of all and walked naked out of the city to begin the rebuilding of San Damiano Church which would be maintained by Clare, an early follower of Francis. There also are the forests whose caves provided Francis a location for silent meditation on austere fasting. As one`s eyes swing north, one can spot the Church of St. Clare which houses the famous San Damiano Cross, clothing worn by Francis, Clare and other Franciscans, as well as the body of Clare. In the distance is the Cathedral of St. Maria Degli Angeli, a massive structure constructed to encompass a small church built by Francis and the site (then in the woods) where he exhaled his last breath. To the north side of Assisi is the Basilica of St. Francis where his earthly remains are housed in a simple shrine on the lower level, with the massive upper level displaying amazing artwork commissioned by later Popes in honor of this most popular saint in the history of the Catholic Church.

Throughout Assisi, as one might imagine, there are gift shops and restaurants aplenty, all eager to make profit off the fame of Francis and his followers who cared nothing for wealth. The irony achieves deeper levels if one seeks out a public market where fresh produce might allow one to make meals without reliance upon overpriced alternatives. Only a few small grocery stores can be found (known primarily to the local residents)! Simple living in Assisi, in other words, is not very simple! During our 6 days/5 nights here, Kris and I developed a pattern of eating a carbohydrate-heavy breakfast (included in our hotel package), enjoying a simple (but overpriced) late lunch, and then having a picnic in either in our room or outside (if sunshine was warm enough) – using grocery store fare. On one evening I purchased the only head of lettuce available in the small store for use in a salad for which Kris creatively made a salad dressing from mustard and apricot preserves (saved by us from breakfast).

Easily our most enjoyable day in Assisi was made possible with help from a Whitman College classmate of mine, Alvaro Tachinni. He had been my host when last I visited this area in 1972 (shortly after our graduation in 1971). Later he came to Bloomington, Illinois in 1981, where I had been teaching at Illinois Wesleyan University. 29 years later, he now drove the 45 minutes from his home in Citta` Di Costillo to show us sites important to Franciscans located beyond the reach of city buses. As we began to catch up on the years of silence between us, Alvaro was joined by his son David (a nurse, now at age 29 in seminary to become a priest). Together they provided a tour far better than any paid guide might have.

Three sites on the Alvaro tour were most memorable. In the dense woods of Mt. Subasio we walked to the Hermitage Delle Carceri – an austere structure built upon a favorite place Francis would come to for silence and prayer. In a tiny room there is preserved much of the small cave where Francis would sleep on the stone floor. With the natural beauty of steep hillsides unable to be farmed, the sounds of birds and sight of tall holm-oak trees today is much as it was 800 years ago. It becomes easy to understand the love of Francis for forest creatures. How could one not love this place? My spirit laughed at the sight of a more modern sculpture of bronze, portraying Francis (a very short man) laying on his back looking up through trees into the sky. Had it not been an embarrassment for my wife and friends, I would have loved to lay next to the prone figure for a rest in the afternoon shade.

Alvaro next took us to San Damiano, where Jesus on the cross is said to have first spoken to Francis the words ``Rebuild my Church``. Because the building was in ruins, Francis followed the message literally – and reconstructed the building with his own hands. Here his first followers joined him in the task, here Clare sung in the small choir room (where original wooden stalls and lecterns remain) and served as administrator for 42 years until her death in 1253. In a corner of a large dormitory room upstairs which she shared with other women, Clare embraced death only after the granting of her last wish: a papal establishment of her Order of the Poor Clares. The humility of Clare and Francis could not have foreseen the impact of their lives over the centuries, inspiring many to commit themselves to lives of poverty, renouncing all violence towards either nature or its creatures, while always seeking to reduce the pain of those greatest in need. Even as Alvaro`s son once rejected the Church, he has returned to it because of the example of Francis – whose spirit continue to ``Rebuild my Church``.

As Alvaro transported us to the basilica of Santa Maria Degli Angeli, Kristine reminded me that our town of Pala (like Assisi, about 26,000 in population) was home to Alphonsa (the first Indian to ever be named a saint) – who was also a Franciscan! Perhaps she may have once traveled to this basilica, the center of the Franciscan Order worldwide. The massive structure left me saddened at its lack of simplicity until I entered and saw a most strange sight: the Porziuncola (a tiny chapel built by Francis in what was then a forest) is the centerpiece of the basilica – literally a church within the Church! The beauty of its simplicity dwarfs the larger structure around it. Off to the side about 20 feet is the location of where Francis laid down to die on what was then bare ground. His final wish was to have his body taken to a hill where those too poor to pay for a funeral could find repose (a place also where executions took place at the time). When his wish was carried out, that place ceased to be called Hell Hill and became known as Paradise Hill (and it was there that the Basilica of St. Francis was constructed…

Our time in Assisi is now at an end. Alvaro`s final gift to us was a long car drive up to the top of Mt. Subasio where Assisi could be seen in the distance. Winding our way down from 3,000 feet, through several small towns and back to Assisi we could see people hand gliding in the blue sky. It is as if, whether we consider ourselves to be religious or not, the human spirit still seeks the divine. That is the appeal of Francis: a simple man who sought the divine in a way which still inspires people around the world to do the same. Gandhi would call it self-realization. I have no doubt that Gandhi and Francis were able to see the same truth: we all are interrelated as one human family in one interdependent world. That truth, itself, inspires us to better love one another and all of life….

Week 25: Rome.

Here is a side-view photo of St. Peter`s Basilica, as seen from the lst floor of the Vatican Museum. Almost exactly a week ago we arrived in Rome from India (via Doha). Kris and I are now waiting at a bus station where soon we will be on our way for nearly a week in Assisi. We are sitting on suit cases. She is reading her devotionals. I am using a garbage can as a desk for our laptop computer.

In some ways our current sitting scene is symbolic. We have grown used to the relative simplicity (and certainly the lower costs) typical of India. In this regards Italy provides the most severe of sticker shock. During our five months living in rural Pala (India) we were spending $100/month for rent -- while in Rome a (cheap) hotel room for the four of us costs that much in one day! Here also a simple sandwich and soft drink, purchased at the Coliseum, came to 10 Euros (about $13), and we were unexpectedly charged 26 Euros ($48) to have a ``self service`` Laundromat clean and dry about 20 lbs of dirty clothes (which will certainly encourage us to return to an India-style hand washing routine)! At St. Thomas College 20 rupees (45 cents) would buy a simple lunch – while at a fancy wedding we attended 9 days ago in India the feast cost our friend Chummar (father of the groom) a whopping $5/plate (and that included all courses in unlimited supply)! Our daughter Mira and her friend Naomi part ways with Kris and I today – to begin their own trek throughout Europe, hopefully spending most nights with punk friends. If they can keep their total daily spending down to about $50/day each, they should have enough money to cover expenses until we meet up with them again in Egypt – seven weeks from now….

The contrast between India and Italy is also stark in other ways. Two weeks ago the weather in New Delhi was about 110 degrees fahrenheit -- whereas here now people are complaining about a heat wave with highs in the low 80s! The low humidity, by comparison with Kerala, is especially welcome. For us the weather is perfect! Also, as compared to the traditional culture we became accustomed to, all sorts of personal expression is visible here including people kissing and fondling in the parks, women wearing very revealing garb, and folks loudly expressing themselves in an emotional fashion. The landlady at the bed & breakfast place we have stayed at in Rome, for example, seemed regularly to yell at the cleaning woman who, from our point of view, was far too complete in the way she took care of everything (including putting away our personal belongings when we were out)! The ``Vatican`s House`` (where we stayed) was kept very clean (including the bathroom we shared with two other sets of renters). In fact, all of Rome was amazing clean and well kept as compared to most places we visited in India.

Vatican City, including St. Peter`s Basilica and the Vatican Museum, were more amazing than any pictures you may have seen. The Basilica in absolutely massive (the largest church in the world) and ornate (understatement cannot be avoided). It was only with the help of Kris that I was able to distinguish the location of St. Peter himself (just inside the front entrance, to the right): a simple marker completely overshadowed by the Pieta of Michelangelo (the sculpture of Mary holding her dead son). Kris and I both wondered how St. Peter might feel about the incredible wealth amassed by the Church and clearly spent on the opulence of this place…..The Vatican Museum (which includes access to the Sistine Chapel), had treasures beyond belief – from Egypt, Greece, the Roman heritage, as well as all manner of artwork reflecting the two thousand years of Christian tradition. The paintings of Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel inspired awe from even our (supposedly anti-religious) daughter. The nearly one hour we spent there could have easily been prolonged to a day – if closing time had not been upon us.

For Kristine and I the most exhausting experience may well have been due to my seeking to avoid the high fares of taxis and navigate the public transportation system. It took us two buses (with much waiting and too much walking) to reach our goal for day: Castel Saint Angelo, a massive fortress not far from St. Peter`s from which panoramic views of the city can be had. Well, the views were remarkable – but it took over 250 stair steps winding among many levels of cut stone rooms – to get to the top. Kris stoically trudged through it all while neither the ticket salesperson nor any guide mentioned that there was a service elevator that could be available (something we discovered later). Connecting with the bus lines for the return trip required also far too much lag work, leaving us both exceptionally sore with blisters for the following day.

The next day we went to the Coliseum, Kris and I purchased tickets on a bus that provided a guided tour throughout Rome (complete with earphone English translation) to all us of tourists riding on board (in the open air second tier). We were able to walk all around the ancient grounds where so many gladiators fought to the death, animals were hunted and killed, and Christians were slaughtered. Oddly, among the many displays of art and fighting garb, the impression was conveyed that most of those who lost their lives did so voluntarily (as if slaves, captured lions, and persecuted Christians had a real choice)! In use for 400 years following its completion in 80AD, the Coliseum was in remarkably good condition – though not well modified for the handicapped. Unlike the Vatican Museum, where a helpful employee took the initiative to provide a wheelchair for Kris and had arranged for free tickets for both her and I, the Coliseum had no wheelchairs available and not even a discount for those who might be unable to navigate the extensive ruins. Oddly, it is seemed to be as if Do or Die spirits inhabiting this arena of death lived on, might be laughing a little at our inconvenience.

Among the many pleasant memories that will remembered fondly, there will be the visiting of Trevi Fountain (complete with the most delicious gelacio/sherbert ice cream ever!), seeing unexpected splendors in the Cathredal of St. John the Baptist (with forty foot tall sculptures of each of the twelve disciples), and time spent in the Catacombs near the Appian Way (the ancient roadway beside which Spartacus and his followers had been crucified following their slave revolt in the first century BCE. For Kristine and I a sunny day among lovely trees and a peaceful meadow, growing above the graves of over 500,000 Christians buried in the Catacombs of San Callisto, provided a lovely setting to contemplate the many centuries of history entombed in Rome. That we were able to share this experience and so many others with our daughter Mira has been for us a great additional blessing. The learning experience she and her friend Naomi have had during these last five weeks of traveling with us, I hope, have been enjoyed as much by them as by us. May safe travels be theirs now, until we meet again in late July before we all return to the U.S. in early August.

Although our access to internet service is not as constant now as it was in India, know that our weekly updates will continue to be posted here, for all who care to follow our ongoing odyssey.

Week 24: Goodbye to India

There are too many memories and emotions embodied in these past six months to try to capture them all in any one picture. As we depart from India to Italy this day, my thoughts are especially with students and staff associated with St. Thomas College. Here is the community that has welcomed me both in the classroom and in their hearts. Our group photo includes many but not all of those with whom I worked. Seated in the center is Dr. K.K. Jose, the Principal (who we would call President) of the College. The lengthy conversations he and I have shared have laid a strong foundation for what should emerge as an MOU (Memorandum of Understanding) between St. Thomas College and Portland Community College (in Oregon) that may include a future student exchange program between the two institutions.

Much effort this week has been devoted to my completing a Final Report to the Fulbright folks regarding experiences relevant to my grant. Put simply, I was surprised to discover that various accomplishments during these 24 weeks include: 1) team-teaching 4 courses relating to Gandhian Thought, American Government, International Relations, and Nonviolent Action, 2) publishing four articles relating to Gandhi, Martin Luther King Jr., Aristotle, and the Green Movement, and 3) delivering 24 presentations to a wide range of conferences, seminars, educational institutions, and community organizations. 2/3rds of the six months was spent in the beautiful southern state of Kerala, while the other two months involved traveling with speaking engagements in five other states of India. What an amazing collage of experiences, squeezed into such a compact period of time.....

By far the most wonderful memories are associated with people. The family of my teaching colleague, Stany Thomas, has taken us into their hearts and into their home. Much of this last week has been spent with Stany, his wife (Shanty) three children (Tom, Anna, and Hanna), his parents and his aunt where they all helped first Kristine, and then both Naomi and Mira recover from minor illnesses. It was with the loving support of this family that have enabled me to overcome computer problems that enabled me to both complete my Final Fulbright Report and write this blog entry (before we lose wireless internet access later today)!

Being able to share quality time with a few of those from my first visit to India (for six months in 1971-72) has been extremely special. Dina Patel, my spiritual sister and a soul mate: I am so grateful for our paths being able to cross three times during these six months -- and am very hopeful that you may come see us in the U.S. when your grand project is successfully completed (the republishing of the entire Collected Works of Mahatma Gandhi). Laxmi Satyavrata, my friend from those challenging weeks in Calcutta, when birth was given to the nation of Bangladesh: may your friends bring you joy in your twilight years, as your light will always shine in our lives. Memories of others, mostly of this world no more, remind us both of our own mortality and of the blessings that each day may bring if we allow it to.

Other St. Thomas College people will be forever in our thoughts. Our neighbor Chumar and his wife, and the son whose marriage we were all able to attend just two days ago! K.V. Thomas, whose stimulating conversations about culture (as well as soccer!) have produced a lasting bond. Dr. Jose, our landlord, who gave welcomed us into his own home for two nights this week, has always shown great kindness. Stanys good friend, Mohammed Rasheed, who took time away from his duties at M.E.S. College Nekandum to show us the lovely backwaters of Kerala. So... so many others are also worthy of mention, but time is short -- and my internet connection will soon expire in a short time! Father Mathew, another good friend, will arrive to help transport the four of us to the airport at Kochi, where we will see Mira and Naomi off, enjoy a dinner with Father Mathew`s sister and family, and then go back for our departure from India.

FYI: our plan for the next two months is as follows: Mira and Naomi will take a flight this evening to Bangalore, then to Frankfurt (Germany), meeting Kristine and I in Rome late tomorrow. Kris and I depart early tomorrow morning and arrive in Rome (via Doha) earlier than our daughter and Naomi. Next week our blog entry will detail some of the adventures of the four of us in Rome. Following that week, we part ways, with Mira and Naomi traveling together in Europe (Sweden, Germany, the Netherlands, and Czech Republic), while Kris and I will spend a total of three weeks in Italy and three more in Palestine -- before the four of us reunite together in Egypt for the last two weeks of July. August 1st we all fly to the U.S. from Rome, with Mira and Naomi going directly to Portland, while Kris and I will enjoy a one-week stopover in Chicago (seeing the Pierie Clan!) before returning to Portland on August 8th.

Enough for now. We must quickly complete our packing. There is also much activity relating to the funeral for a neighbor of Stany and Shanty: an untimely death of a taxi driver by heart attack at age 42, leaving behind his wife and two young children. The outpouring of support for this poor man`s family is nothing less than inspiring: from covering the funeral expenses to arranging future payments of his home mortgage (his first, approved by the bank only two months ago). In a nutshell, this is a fitting last memory of India: a land of great beauty and great poverty, where the strength of relationships provides the only true security that any of us may have. Not wealth, not military might, but people helping people -- at times reflecting what was once described by Martin Luther King as the Beloved Community....

It is my hope that these weekly reflections have been useful to each of you. It may be that what little we can share of our experiences here may relate to and feed the spirit of love in your own lives. Please be patient with future postings, as they may be as irregular as our future access to the internet, They should come near the beginning of each week, but we will see what is possible.

Goodbye to India for now. I have no doubt that I will be here again, if even it may be in the next lifetime.

Week 23: Rishikesh & Manali

This photograph was taken by daughter Mira while flying in a helicopter over the Himalayas! Unbelievable, yes? How she came to have that chance is part of the experience of this last week. So read on!

The week began with us escaping from the 110 degree temperatures of Delhi and Agra, by taking an overnight bus north to Rishikesh where cooler climates once attracted the Beatles to the banks of the upper Ganges river. Kristine, Mira, and her friend Naomi got almost no sleep since the bus was not air conditioned (as had been promised) and was so overcrowded that some of the children ended up lying on the floors! Although I did sleep, a bad travel experience became worse when the bus unloaded all passengers in Haridwar (even though our ticket stated we had paid to be taken the remaining 7 miles to Rishikesh)! Thankfully, three Indian lawyers I had conversed with on the bus intervened with the driver on our behalf, forcing him to pay for an auto rickshaw to transport us the rest of the way. The travel nightmare did not end in Rishikesh, as it took another hour (including another auto rickshaw, a bicycle rickshaw, a taxi, and a ride (for Kris) on the back of a motor scooter across a footbridge spanning the Ganges – for us to arrive, exhausted, at out hotel.

During our three full days in Rishikesh, the girls enjoyed shopping (without the verbal harassment and bargaining common to Delhi) and we all enjoyed the cooler night temperatures (though daytime still was in the 90`s). A highlight of one day was the four-hour drive thru Rajaji National Park in an open jeep. Our 40km ``safari`` included a beautiful arid jungle complete with dry riverbeds, narrow rocky roads up and down very substantial hills, and lots of wild elephant dung but no wild elephants! Wildlife we did see included eagles, vulchers, wild peacocks, kingfisher birds, lemur families, playful monkeys, wild boar, and scores of different varieties of deer – but no sightings of the reclusive tiger and leopards that feed on them. Mira and Naomi were also sad not to see any king cobras, though their dismay was not much shared by Kristine. I was happy just to smell the fresh air and hear the many sounds of life left free of unwanted human contact.

The automobile drive to Manali took two days, navigating about 300 miles of winding roads at an average speed of about 20 miles per hour! A combination of drugs and the kindness of the women (who insisted I sit in the front with the driver) saved me from any serious car sickness. The topography was frequently breathtaking, with the shoulders of the road to Shimla often without any safeguards to sheer drops below. A pleasant night in Shimla (cooler than Manali) helped us understand how the British would make this their summer capital of India during colonial times. The next day`s long drive revealed scenes of rivers, hills, and orchards (including peaces and apples) that reminded me of eastern Washington State near Wenatchee (where I had spent 12 summers in my youth picking fruit). On the evening of May 14th we arrived in Manali.

Manali is located in the foothills of the Himalayas (at about 6,000 feet) not far south of the border with Kashmir and west of the border with Tibet. Three Buddhist monasteries are located in and around this tourist town, as well as various other temples like one dedicated to Manu (the source of the Laws of Manu that governed north India in ancient times). Our hotel was located within an easy walk of the Mall area where tourists flock to shop from all over the world – enjoying massive hills and nearby snow covered mountains on three sides. During our 4 day stay, we enjoyed a wide variety of food ranging from sushi to noodle soup and spinach omelets to mexican burritos! It was while talking with the owner of the AMIGOS restaurant one morning that we learned of his helicopter service for wealthy tourists and VIPs (at $1,000/day). He took a liking to us and suggested that we join the Chief Minister of Himachal Pradesh (in one hour) who had contracted a one-way flight with an empty helicopter to return. So it is that Mira and Naomi were given the ride of a lifetime for a mere $120/each! Kristine opted out as she did not feel up to getting ready on such short notice. I am too cheap, do not like flying, and had another fun thing to do. The girls had a great time – as can be guessed from their photographs!

My fun thing to do that day was to spend nearly two hours with local police authorities explaining why the visa for Kristine and I had expired on February 25th and had not yet been formally renewed! Our hotel manager had been required by law to report the issue to police as part of the heightened security concerns regarding terrorism – and he walked with me about a mile to the police station. At first the officer was unconvinced by all of the paperwork I provided (partly because he was being interrupted every few minutes by a new case/crisis that did not allow him to concentrate. It was a seriously ADD environment with reports of stolen wallets, Indian tourist complaints about their tour operators, and frequently heated exchanges of words. I just decided to remain calm and go with the flow (and maybe spend some time in custody?)! Thankfully, a long telephone conversation with Fulbright staff people in Delhi (who I had kept up to date on my visa problems) satisfied the officer in charge that the reason my visa extension had not been issued (nearly 3 months after it was applied for) was due to an ineffective bureaucracy in Kerala. I complimented him and suggested that Gandhi would have been pleased with his taking time to get to the truth of the matter.

This week has had far too many experiences to adequately discuss in the time now available. There was the lengthy discussion I had with the head of the anti-terrorism unit of the Gujarat State Police (who was on vacation) which surprised me with his largely agreeing with a Gandhian view that only justice for the poor, and not military force can defeat terrorism in the long term. There was the puppy which Mira brought from the street (and into the restaurant) to share breakfast with us one morning – and how grateful the shivering creature was to lap up the warm milk she provided. There was the searching of the markets with Kristine to find a (nearly perfect?) sweater to help her ward off the chilly temperatures…

As we pack this cold morning (in the 50`s) and prepare to return to New Delhi tomorrow (by overnight bus today), we all wonder at the diversity of this amazing country. We also wonder how we will cope with returning to India`s capital only 300 miles to the south: crowds, pollution, and highs in the 110-115 degree range! Though we may be shivering in Manali, we will almost certainly remember our visit here with fondness.

10 days are now left to us before departing from India…..

Week 22: Delhi & Agra

Pictured here are Kris and I celebrating our 27th wedding anniversary at the Taj Mahal in Agra. The view from our Taj Plaza lodging at sunset was wonderful -- though not as spectacular as being at the historic grounds the day after (on Mother`s Day). The beauty of the place was only tarnished a little by the fact that Kris has had trouble sleeping for several nights and I have been making too many emergency runs to a toilet! Finally, finally, I may be blessed with an ailment that can peal a few pounds off my whalish belly!

Much of this week has been spent in New Delhi where we had lodging at the Asian Guest House on Kasturba Gandhi Marg at Connaught Place. The lodging itself was a good introduction to the capital of India: an aging structure with the lobby under construction (dust everywhere and elctrical wires exposed) on the second floor (above a modern art gallery) and with very friendly staff who sought to be helpful in every way they can. At about $20 per person per night, we were able to secure two air-conditioned rooms, each with its own western-style toilet and TV. Basically clean, though with bugs, our room had no window outside, the toilet seat was broken, and the advertised hot water was scarce.

Day temperatures these days in New Delhi sour up to 48 degrees celcius (about 115 farenheit) and left all four of us drinking lots of bottled water! Mira and Naomi the prize for best shoppers, scoring many items for themselves as well as for friends. I would give myself the prize for most miles walked, as forays to the Gandhi Peace Foundation, Fulbright House, and the train station (where I was unable to refund a ticket) helped me average at least 3 miles each day. My walking was by choice, helping me see life up close and slowly while avoiding the overcharging of auto rickshaw drivers who see often treat tourists as cash cows. Many good conversations were had during my outings, including time to visit with current staff at the Gandhi Peace Foundation which had sponsored my travels throughoput India 39 years ago. Some had been employed there that long -- allowing us to discuss people we knew who are no more of this world.

Kristine gets the prize for sheer endurance. One day we hired a taxi to drive the four of us to the bmain mosque in Delhi, the Red Fort (built when moslems ruled north India), and other historic sites. She must have walked well over a mile that day, in the scorching heat, up and down stairs, and across broken pavement. Though she was sore the next day, she and I still managed to spend two hours in the National Museum, viewing displays of paintings, sculpture, and artifacts dating back over 6,000 years! Incredible India is the slogan on many posters which advertise for tourists, but it is all true: India is incredible!

To enjoy the beauty, however, is also to endure some pain (oneself, as well as the obvious problems visible most everywhere). Images of estreme poverty, organized begging, and children selling pencils come to mind -- as well as the smells of garbage mixed with sewage. It is rare for a public toilet to be found, and even then it will be at least 10 rupees (about 20 cents). Many people in India`s capital live on less than 100 rupees today, with 1/3 of the population estimated to be malnourished. my most touching moment in the city was with Kris when our auto rickshaw was besieged by several people asking for money at a stop light. One old woman saw the water flask I carry with me and clearly gestured her desire for a drink. I shared it with her, pouring the precious liquid into her dirty hands as she requested. Even water, so basic to life, is becoming less available here....

As I write now, it is Mother`s Day and the Taj Mahal can be seen from where I sit near a window. The Taj, one of the wonders of the world, a tomb built by Shah Jahan out of grief for the loss of his beloved wife while she was giving birth -- is a remarkable work of art. Still, the Shah taxed his people heavily for the resources needed to build this tomb and many died for it -- including the artisans who were executed so as to insure they could never build another monument like it. The amazing marble structure is, in fact, stained in the blood of the poor -- and yet it still commands awe as a thing of beauty. How full of contradictions we are who build such structures, and how human also are we who can appreciate them.

Tonight we travel north to the cooler climates of Rishikesh and Manali. We travel back to New Delhi by car ($100 round trip) to catch an overnight bus ($54 for all 4 of us) to Rishikesh. Put together with the cost of our modest accommodations, fees assessed to tourists who visit the Taj, and a little shopping, the four of us will have spent in two days what the old woman needing water in Delhi will likely have in an entire year…. If, from one viewpoint, we have a right to enjoy such times as these, from most any other perspective we also have a duties to help improve the lives of others….

Tune in next week to hear of some of the adventures which, no doubt, will be in store for us there! Know that we are thinking of our friends and family every day, with love.

Week 21: Coming Together

Coming together is an apt theme for this week. After 39 years of separation, here I am with Laxmi Satyavrata -- pictured with Kristine (together with daughter MIra and friend Naomi who have just arrived in India this week)! Finalizing travel plans for May also came together following a reunion of Stany`s family in celebration of his youngest daughter`s first communion. A very eventful week!

I first met Laxmi and her husband Satyavrata in 1971 while staying with others at the Gandhi Peace Foundation in Calcutta. They were working in refugee campus along the border of India and what was then East Pakistan. Over one million people were fleeing the violence being inflicted by Pakistani troops upon Benglalis who were agitating for independence. Thousands were dying every day in the camps where food and clothing were desperately needed to stave off both hunger and cool December temperatures. For one month I joined them in their work and together we witnessed the last war between India and Pakistan which gave birth to Bangladesh. The bond forged during this time of hardship has remained all through these years, in spite of many address changes that left us unable to communicate with one another.

Kristine and I arrived in Bangalore by overnight bus from Kerala the morning of the night Mira and Naomi were to arrive by plane from Japan. After settling in our hotel, I went searching to find Laxmi and Satyavrata as I knew that 40 years ago Bangalore had been their home. With difficulty I found the Gandhi Peace Foundation offices in Bangalore and there I received word that Satyavrata had died just one years ago -- but Laxmi was alive and well (at age 79) living less than a block away! Our reunion that day was tearful, as we were sad that dear Satyavrata could be with us only in spirit -- and yet, there we were, able to catch up after so many years! She was amazed at how I had changed from a very thin young man of 21 (who, at 130 lbs was recovering from severe dysentery), to a ripe (good word) man aged 60 (who, at about 190 pounds, is -- heavier)!

Of course it was with great joy that Kris and I greeted our daughter and her friend at Bangalore airport. More than five months separation from Mira had been our longest ever from her -- and our parental instincts had us feeling a little like children at Christmas! Mira and Naomi soon were sharing some of their adventures during their two weeks in Japan -- mostly sleeping on floors with young people there who are part of a global network of those sharing the punk music scene. Though they had loved their time with these new friends, no one complained about sleeping in beds again here! Both also were as excited to visit India for the first time, as Kris and I were to have them join us. Our coming together was meaningful to me on the additional level of my seeing in their eyes the same wonderment I remember when I first traveled here.

Laxmi was thrilled to be able to share time with us all. One day she joined us in a rented car (with driver) who tried to showe us around Bangalore (he was often lost, and sp also would wed have been, without Laxmi`s direction). The Botanical Gardens were a highlight of this tour: over 1,000 acres set aside in the heart of the city, complete with a lotus pond, Japanese garden, a 300 year old cottonwood tree, and too many other scenes to mention. We lunched together and I learned much more about Laxmi`s very hard life than I had ever known before -- which helped Kris and I appreciate how much she has overcome to become how remarkable she is. Even now she teaches yoga in the mornings and provides nature cure services (including massage) on most days! Sadly, our brief visit to her city did not allow time for us to benefit from her skills. Maybe in the next life...

News from this week would be remiss without mention of our celebrating the first (Syrian Rite, Catholic) communion of Hanna, youngest daughter to our good friend Stany Thomas. Dressed in fine white, along with many other young boys and girls, Hanna`s event was presided over by the Archbishop of Kerela (yet another relative of Stany and his wife Shanty). The family reception at Stany`s home served over 150 people a fine buffet lunch -- with almost all of those invited being family members (coming together from as far away as France)! For Kris and I to be honorary aunt and uncle in such a family gathering only confirms how close we have come to be to these fine people. I am glad to know that Mira and Naomi will also share time with the Stany family later this month.

Hopefully the plans I have carefully laid out for May will proceed with minimal stress. Booking hotel reservations and and arranging for transportation has NOT been fun. As we proceed this day to Delhi and further north, I hope my efforts at being a travel agent do not show too much incompetence. For sure, I would never pursue a career in that field. Patience and a mellow personality are required - - and that is definately not me!

Thanks is especially due to several other people in Bangalore who made our four days here especially memorable. We are grateful to Kausalya Kugashankar, proprietor of the Terrace Gardens Guest House, for both providing us with a restful accomodation and inviting us one evening to dine with her and her family. Thanks also to the many people who shared with us during my speaking engagement at Bangalore University, and especially to Dr. D. Jeevan Kumar and his wife and daughter who insisted upon taking us out for lunch after the event. So many wonderful people, so little time. May our paths cross again some day in the U.S., where we may be blessed with visitors from these days.

Bye bye beloved Laxmi -- you will remain like a big sister to me. Goodbye Bangalore.

Week 20: to Tamil Nadu

The featured photo this week shows Kris and I sharing with Fr. Thomas Rathapillil and some of those being served at St. Joseph`s House, a facility providing for terminally ill people. That we were able to take the trip to the neighboring state of Tamil Nadu was a minor miracle in itself, as a belated invitation for me to speak at Gandhigram Rural University nearly had to be declined due to AC bus or train transportation not being available. Our travel agent, Sebastian, managed to find an auto driver to help us out for four days (three nights) at reasonable cost. It should also be said that none of the experiences detailed by Kristine below would have happened but for the efforts of our extremely attentive host at Gandhigram: Dr. S. Narayanasamy.

Making this trip was also, in part, a pilgrimage into my past. 39 years ago (at age 21) I had traveled to Kodaicanal to interview Keithahn, an American who lived and worked with Gandhi for over 20 years – and who was very active in the founding of Gandhigram Rural University. Though I knew he had died some years ago, I wanted to visit his home where we had shared together for a week. So it is we drove the narrow road up to Kodaicanal (which, at elevation 6,000 feet also providing relief from the scorching heat of the plains). It was with difficulty that we were able to eventually find his home, now empty, and the place where he and I had worshipped together on an amazing cliff nearby. While there was a sadness to this experience (most folks we spoke to had no memory of this fine man), we met a woman supervising two young children up the road from his old home. While it was claimed that these two boys were Keithan`s grandchildren, it was later clarified by email from a grandson now living in the U.S. that they were not. We also found the worship place, though it had been partially destroyed by a road constructed to access a palatial home built by the billionaire Birla and given to Sai Baba for his occasional use. Ironic, yes?

The remaining portion of this week`s entry is a reprint of Kristine`s letter to friends sent out a few days ago. If you have already read it, please forgive the redundancy. Her words express our experiences so well would be no reason for me to cover them with mine….

Dear Friends,

We have just had a remarkable few days. Besides Mike speaking to a group of college students, we visited a prosthetic clinic where they make limbs for the rural farmers. They had pictures of amputees climbing coconut trees! Next we visited a live-in community college (not the same as in the States) for young people who need skills improvement before they can apply for college. We both spoke at that event and the young people were very lively and interested, and the Salesian fathers (Dom Bosco) were quite welcoming. The next morning we visited a business man who was crippled by polio, and confined to a wheelchair. He talked about the many challenges that physically and mentally challenged face in India. (ex. Most streets/sidewalks in India would be impossible for a wheelchair to navigate without another person`s help.) Nevertheless he and another teacher organized a hospital train where those with challenges could receive surgeries and needed services to improve their functioning.

We also visited a hospice for the destitute. The priest who started this place (fairly new-4yrs) had a personal experience of finding a man next to a garbage bin trying to eat some rice with the pigs who kept pushing him over. The man was paralyzed on one side and had a gaping, vermin infested wound on the other. So began his mission to help those who had been abandoned by society, often in their last days of life. With the help of an English woman he was able to raise funds for a building which now houses over 300 people. What is amazing is that this Fr Tom suffered a quadruple by pass some years ago (he is 60) and the other two priests who are Jesuits are both over 80 years old! They have a paid staff of about 20 nurses, aids, an MD on call. He now has received a land grant of 15 acres in south Chennai, where he hopes to start another hospice.

Our driver Jibi, was quite impressed with Fr. Tom and at dinner shared with us that he was a Pentecostal Christian (somewhat rare in India) and that their small church (about 10 families) had started an orphanage which we hope to visit soon.

I have to admit missing so many folks and all the comforts of home, but this trip has been a blessing in many ways. Our daughter Mira will be flying into Bangalore at the end of April and most of May we will tour the northern part of India, before returning to Pala for five days to say good byes to the friends that have made this stay so special. Then we fly to Italy, and eventually we`ll visit Israel and Egypt. After visiting my family in Chicago we will return to Portland the second week of August -- nine months of summer!

Love and blessings to all,

Kris (AKA Mrs. Michael)

Week 19: Home Hospitality

In this picture Kristine and I are receiving the hospitality of A.M. Rasheed and Suhyl Rahman in Suhyl`s home near Alappuzha in Kerala. I had met Rasheed two months ago through his friend (and my co-worker, Stany Thomas) and had given a lecture at Nedumkandam College where he is Principal. I had met Suhyl through Rasheed one week ago, when I gave my last lecture at Mahatma Gandhi University where he works and is active with SAMSCARA (a service organization of employees) which sponsored the talk. Suhyl had then invited me to his home and Rasheed had offered to provide the transportation! Such spontaneous kindness occurs here with embarrassing frequency.

A typically Hindu cultural standard is to ``Treat a guest as God.`` As Moslems, Rasheed and Suhyl abide by a similar standard by showing great generosity and kindness. Together they insisted upon providing all meals during our 30 hours together, as well as paying for a 4-hour boat ride on the canals and lakes in and around the city of Alappuzha (known as the Venice of India). The boat ride was glorious, revealing tropical splendor throughout as well as tree climbers harvesting coconuts, a tamed eagle at a rest stop, children be taken by boat to school, laborers filling their small boats with sand to sell for construction projects, and scores of people going about their daily lives using the life-giving water by catching fish, cleaning clothes, and performing other tasks. After being served a fantastic meal (vegetarian, to suit me) prepared by Suhyl`s wife and oldest daughter and served by his son and son`s friend, we continued to engage in a wide range of conversations including religion, politics, and personal matters. We also were obliged to visit the home of Suhyl`s sister and, later, his elderly father (who is credited by many as the first to educate Moslems in Kerala on topics relating to other religious traditions throughout over 60 years as a respected Islamic orator).

Earlier in the week I had attended an event at Mahatma Gandhi University which I had thought was to honor students with whom I had shared. Upon my arrival, it was clear that I was the primary person to be honored! Something similar had happened to me at St. Thomas College the week before, so I am surprised that I was again surprised! Speeches were made, cake was shared, and one student had an odd request of me: to sing a song! For over 50 people I did my best with ``Simple Gifts``, one of my favorite Quaker songs that seemed appropriate. The applause was definately out of proportion to my meagre vocal skills....

Former St. Thomas College Principal (President), Father Mathew Kokkatt came to Pala for a two day visit to see a doctor -- and used the occasion to take Kris and I one morning to visit his traditional family home as well as two others. So it is that I finally was able to personally thank him for the key role he played in the formulation of my Fulbright Grant proposal. Through him on this day we spent time with a married couple who, at age 53, had finally given birth to a child after years of disapppointment: wow, now that is persistence (with the help of God`s grace?)! Another friend of Fr. Kokkatt served us desert in her home -- on the same day she and her husband were preparing to fly to Switzerland: wow, how many folks in the U.S. would have sought to avoid that untimely hospitality?!

Fr. Kokkatt had us back to our home just in time for us for Kris and I to be picked up by Matthew Sebastian, Chair of the Political Science Department at St. Thomas College. He had made an appointment many days before for us to meet his family and have lunch at his home. His lovely wife (a high school teacher) and two daughters (one finishing medical school, and the other in college) made us feel completely at home. Among other things, we talked about educational systems and classroom practices -- telling stories that brought many smiles. After this full day of home visits, we were too tired to attend Saturday evening mass (though the humidity of the day had also taken a toll)....

Having visited Moslem and Christian homes this week, we should also mention our sharing a week before in the home of Dr. T.V. Muralivallabhan (another friend of Stany Thomas). Murali (as his friends call him), had insisted upon showing Kris and I to a couple of local Hindu Temples before arriving at dusk to his home. His home also had a prayer space devoted to a variety of incarnations of Vishnu, including Raama and Krishna, though Shiva and his son Ganesha were also represented. Hindus declare that there are at least 10,000 names for God – and tend to culturally accept (and occasionally absorb) virtually all of the world`s other religious traditions. Murali is, himself, strongly in the tradition of the ancient Hind sage Shankaracharya and his 19th century devotee Vivekanada who taught respect for all faiths: after all, is not each religious tradition but another path to trek up the same mountain at the summit of which is the Truth that is God?

Hindus, and all those influenced by Hindu culture, are often said to be preoccupied with issues of dharma (duty). This helps explain the extreme hospitality shown to us by so many people in India. While I am sure some folks genuinely like Kris and I, while others want to visit with us for the status attached to having done so, there is no doubt that doing one`s dharma plays a role. As a last example of ``doing dharma`` for this week`s blog entry, I will tell of the visit by Mr. Nayar to us two days ago.

Mr. Nayar is a desk clerk working at the Gandhi Guest House across the street from Gandhis Sabarmati Ashram in Ahmadabad. One month ago we stayed three nights there during my involvement with a Global Warming Conference. Mr. Nayar and I had enjoyed light conversation during our stay, and he had phoned us in Kerala later to say that we had overpaid our bill by 1,000 rupees (about $20.). I had told him to simply make a gift in our name to any charity of his choice. Instead, while visiting relatives about 6 miles from where we live in Pala, he travels with his cousin by bus to hand deliver the Rs 1,000 to me. He insisted that was his duty! Kris served them some apple juice and fruits (what little we had available for surprise guests) and I insisted upon walking with them back to the bus stop. Picture the three of us men sharing a small umbrella in a torrential downpour of rain – laughing at our common discomfort while observing how wonderfully clean the air smelled! Duty. Doing dharma not only builds community, but can be a lot of fun!

Rasheed, Suhyl, Fr. Kokkat, Matthew, Murali, and Mr. Nayar: May your life examples continue to inspire me and others to build a world more at peace with itself…..

Week 18: India --La Vida Loca Part 2

In Part I of A Vida Loca (see Week 11), I ended with butterflies (a miracle of a bug, in my opinion). In this part, the less miraculous forms of insects will be discussed, but not extensively since what I know about bugs is limited by my meager experience.

The bug which has impacted me the most here is the mosquito. They love sucking on me and there are welts and itching to prove it. Obviously, there are others who enjoy the same complaint, as India has many contrivances used to prevent and destroy mosquitoes. First there is the mosquito net. We obtained one of these in January (after the fact, the bites were numerous by then) and since then it has protected us at night. Another gadget which may be peculiar to India is the plug-in mosquito deflector. Essentially, it is a small tank of toxic insecticide, when plugged into an electric outlet, releases fumes to repel mosquitoes. We do use them, but as I have seen mosquitoes flying around our apartment; its effectiveness is in question. A third line of defense is the mosquito zapper. This device is shaped like a badminton racket. When turned on, the webbing is electrically charged to electrocute mosquitoes( or any other bug which get in its path). So on many nights we play the game of mosquito badminton.(we love the smell of mosquitoes frying in the evening.) Lastly, of course, there is the mosquito repellant that you apply on your body. A nurse told us that the only thing that really works for more than ten minutes is preparations loaded with DEET. I have only used this on occasion since learning that besides repelling mosquitoes, the substance can also cause neurological problems (especially in children). As I already had Jungle Brain, I didn`t want to chance it.

The second type of bug which is a source of amusement and aggravation is the humble ant. One day I was totally mesmerized by about twenty tiny ants trying to carry a fly up to our kitchen window and over the wall outside. It was like watching some piano movers, with the same starts, stops, reversals and final success. Very entertaining. Not so entertaining when you find them in the closed containers that are supposed to prevent them from contaminating the food, drowned in the pan we use to boil water, or on anything you leave on the kitchen counter for more than five minutes. Spiders inspire the same ambivalence. Now the huge full bodied ones still engender fear and destructive impulses ( At Kurisumala, there were some huge ones. But considering the spirit of ahimsa that permeated the place, I controlled aggressive impulses. Often I did not sleep well, however.) But for some reason, I have always liked Daddy- Long Legs. And they try to inhabit over twenty corners in our apartment. I am always torn, since they do me the favor of killing mosquitoes and other bugs. However, their webs make the place look like I haven`t cleaned for months (OK...Did I hear those that know me saying, SO, What else is new?). About once every two weeks, I destroy their homes, not them. They repay the favor by rebuilding.

Another miracle in Kerala are the varied and exotic flowers. Bougainvillea, hibiscus, and other tropical plants of which I have no name bloom in a variety of colors fuchsia pink, red, golden, and salmon colored in the low land areas. The other day Mike brought home a tropical bud given to him by a Hindu. It is called the Hood of Shiva and looks similar to a peony bud before it flowers, pink but outlined in red. Inside there is a multitude of red stamens, where supposedly Shiva sat atop this feathery tuft. You may have seen the orange and yellow hanging thunbergia which Mike posted on the blog several weeks ago. This was a photo taken at Shanty`s Mom`s house in the mountains. Also common in the higher elevations are huge types of pure white and pink and white lilies.(The plants are over 6ft tall.) Another type of flower which Shanty called a Christmas lily, looks more like a small bouquet of red orange flowers.. And of course, huge red poinsettia plants grace the mountain roads. What appears to be a type of morning glory is seen everywhere, but they are usually light purple or blue in color. There is another common vine with yellow flowers and a large dark center, which surprisingly is a variety of thunbergia (alata),. In potted plants, we found a relative of the crown of thorns we have in Oregon. But this variety has larger stems and flowers which come in a variety of colors (not just the red we have). What an adventure is experiencing a fragrance in the dark and discovering the source-jasmine! On Christmas Eve midnight mass, I kept smelling it- but where was if coming from? Finally, I noticed many of the women had white garlands of it in their black hair!

As mentioned before, women provide outstanding color and elegance to the culture. However, while you will only see women in Kerala modestly dressed in churidars or saris, bill boards, periodicals, and media represent women in Western attire-jeans, shorts, tank tops and bikinis. Somehow it is OK for actresses, models and celebrities to dress this way but the ordinary woman would not consider even wearing a sleeveless dress! On the other hand, men appear to have quite a bit of freedom, especially in informal settings, other than work. Western clothing (jeans and a tee shirt), dhothi (the ethnic dress for men is essentially a wrap around skirt which may be worn long or short above the knees) with a shirt or shirtless. While the women are covered with layers of clothing. Such apparent inequality is not restricted to apparel. Women are still primarily responsible for child-rearing and domestic chores. Even when a woman is college-educated, she may not be employed outside the home, especially if she has children. When women do work, they do double duty. Meals are an arduous affair. All three- breakfast , lunch and dinner require hours of preparation.(most women arise at about 5:30am). What we have seen here is generally, the women prepare, serve, and clean up. Only after the men and children have eaten do they serve themselves.

While I have to admit to biting my tongue in the face of what our culture calls women`s oppression, I also need to say, most women do these tasks with grace,and even joy. And although the men generally do not do domestic work, most often they do have s spirit of courteous service. For example, Stany often takes it upon himself to drive us to and fro, calls to make sure we are alright, and is totally responsive to our needs. Reflecting on the Easter mystery and Jesus who said he came Not to be served, but to serve, I wonder that in our quest for equality, we have lost what it means to serve with joy. Like Peter, we balk at tasks which appear too mundane for greatness!

What`s in a NAME?

Christians in Kerala employ an interesting variation of biblical identification. Although they do have what they call family names, they do not use those as surnames. For example, our friend Stany last name is Thomas, which is his father`s first name (like Jesus, son of Joseph). Stany`s children are Tom, Anna, and Hannah Stany and Shanty, his wife, is Shanty Stany. But he is still Stany Thomas. Recently, I went to the doctor and the nurse, who was a nun, asked me for my name, and after some verbal back and forth, we decided it was easier for me to write it for her: Kristine Sonnleitner. My file was completed and written on my chart was the name: Cristeen Michael. Go figure!

Week 17: Easter Time

The Good Friday procession pictured above involved walking about a mile while observing the traditional stations of the cross. Most folks were eager to trek after having spent the previous 3 hours in Church (in addition to the three hour service the night before)! Children had lots of energy and most adults were grateful for a chance for them to get it out of their system! The mood was celebratory yet solumn. What little talking was done in whispered Malayalam – including many comments (I later learned) critical of the priest for taking so much time in Church!

Living this weekend with my colleague Stany Thomas and his family (eight people plus us!) has been taken by all in stride. ``Auntie`` Kris has become immensely popular with the three children of the household who enjoyed doing artwork with her, coloring Easter eggs for the first time, and (the best of all!) searching for the eggs after Mass on Easter morning. I am the ``Uncle`` Michael who is a little crazy (so true) but still fun. I think it was mostly the kids and I who enjoyed the loud explosions at the church (used to wake up every one within a mile or so: to be at church by 3am) – yes: for another three hour service! The explosions kind of reminded me of the IRA bombing campaign during the summer I spent in Northern Ireland so many years ago… Ka BOOM!

I confess that the highlight of the long Easter Mass for me (and for many others, judging from the murmuring) was when the electricity went out – leaving the priest without a sound system to be heard, and us all enveloped in the pre-dawn darkness. A little time for peaceful meditation seemed a relief from the powerful amplifiers and (shall I add) tone-deaf singing of this particular priest. I wonder if his being tone deaf is at all related to the dynamite-strong explosions used to wake us? Ah yes: we had several more of those ignited just outside the church building, along with traditional firecrackers, to celebrate the rising of Jesus from the dead. No doubt neighbors who are Hindu or Moslem are especially amused – though I am told they have as free a reign to be as loud as they want to be during their religious celebrations!

Whatever sarcasm may be found in my comments so far should not overshadow the transparent spirituality that pervades our host family and their community. All in the household gather (yes, religiously) every evening of every day at 7:30pm to say prayers for a half hour before dinnertime. If any loved one is having problems, all are there to provide moral or other support. Yesterday I went with Stany to visit an uncle with severe liver problems. No less than ten cousins and others came to visit that hospital room during the hour or so we were there. Family is central to this society. Far more than material wealth and possessions, people here are often rich in family and other relationships. Spirituality contributes to these relationships. We could all learn much from the closeness that is rooted in their traditional practices.

An invitation to share an evening earlier this week in a Hindu household left the same strong impression. Before driving us to his home, Murali took Kris and I to visit two nearby Hindu temples. In addition to seeing images of God to which devotes may pray, we were told of a story about how a particular tree was said to be inhabited by demons that would suck your blood should you harm the tree: now there is a twist for the traditional environmentalist! ``Harm the tree and you die`` leaves a very strong message as to the value of the tree! Another tree variety had a cloth wrapped around it so that it could be literally hugged if one desired to do so! No demons there in that one, just respect for nature. Raama and Krishna, the two most popular incarnations of Vishnu (the creative aspect of God), both lived in the forests and both loved and were loved by all of nature – so why should not we? At his home Murali and his family treated us to a vegetarian feast, noting how their faith tells them to treat every guest as if they were God. Even as Raama cares for each of us, so each of us should treat others as if they were Raama returned to visit... God is always present all life.

This Easter week was also noteworthy as having our last classroom lectures prior to the student presentations and examinations to come. The wednesday before Easter was a little like Good Friday in that my PG 2 (post graduate, second year) students met for the last time after having studied together for two years. The prospect of future separation had many in a somewhat sad and emotional state. The simple ceremony held during class time had the feeling of a wake for the death of a loved one. I was honored to be among the living memory of their experience together. Many photographs were taken of friends together, the whole group as one, and almost everyone seemed to want an individual picture taken with me!

India can be a very humbling place. Materially rich in comparison with most people we meet here, Kris and I are almost constantly showed with the hospitality and kindness of those who are more spiritually centered. Regardless of faith tradition, they value the love of family and friends far about material possessions. To be included in their circle of relationships both warms the heart and makes it ache. As was true of the students, separation will bring sadness when we move on with our lives and space and time take their toll. Hopefully the relationships we have here may be nurtured over the distance that divide us and these relationships cab remind us of where our true wealth is to be found.