March 27, 2002
Dear Family and Friends,
It is almost as big of a culture shock arriving in Bangkok as it is arriving in India. This is my first visit to Thailand after years of hearing of it and all its enticements. The soaring skyscrapers, the ultra modern Light Rail Transit, the obvious wealth in Bangkok, all are in stark contrast to what I have seen. I suspect that the advantage Thailand enjoys over other South East Asian countries is the fact that it was never colonized by any European power. I am glad I made the stop in Sri Lanka; otherwise I'm sure I would have been totally overwhelmed.
Strangely though, as busy and interesting as it is, I do not find myself taking photos at every turn as I did in India and Sri Lanka, and my first days in Bangkok were spent getting my Vietnamese visa and booking the flights in and out of Cambodia and Viet Nam. I checked into the Maxim Inn (a recommendation of John McClurg's) on Suhkumvit Road between Soi 7 and Soi 9. It is modest, but quite comfortable and inexpensive. I checked out the hotel recommended by Glenn and Lorraine, the Royal Benja, but they travel on a much larger budget than I do, so I took a pass.
Carole (Holmes) arrived as scheduled at 11:59PM on February 19th; it is great to see someone from home. We talked until about 3:00AM, as I caught up somewhat on news from Canada, and Carole got more details than I'm sure she wanted to hear about India and Sri Lanka. (Now that Carole has arrived I will have to actually write the truth and stop making this stuff up. Just kidding. I'm still going to make it up.)
19 February 2002
Around the World in a 60s Daze. Chapter V - the Teardrop Isle
February 19, 2002.
Dear family and friends,
The teardrop, tropical island of Sri Lanka, is splashed down in the Indian Ocean just miles from India. In fact, the two countries are almost joined by a series of small islands called Adam's bridge, and it is not hard to imagine a bridge being built one day. But Sri Lanka is light years away in most respects. But before I get to Sri Lanka, a few post script notes on India.
My last letter was sent from Varkala as I was preparing to depart from Trivandrum, the largest city near the southern tip of India. The train from Varkala to Trivandrum is an easy trip of just over one hour. From Trivandrum I wanted to go to Kanyakumeri for my last day in India as it is the very southern tip where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean, and the Arabian Sea all meet. A government workers strike on that day caused all tours to be cancelled, so I decided to go on my own on regular buses, and I'm glad I went. It was quite exciting actually, to be at that point, dipping my toe simultaneously into all three famous waters.
It was an interesting trip back to Trivandrum as several buses were also cancelled and I ended up having to take an alternate route back, but managed it with the help of yet one more of the locals.
My mind has just been crammed with the sights, sounds, and smells of India, and I leave with some considerable mixed feelings. On the one hand, I cannot overlook the poverty and squalor. India is being buried under a pile of plastic; bags and bottles are discarded everywhere. I have been told that the average cow in India dies with 20 pounds of plastic in its gut.
Deb Kindness, our Intrepid tour leader, told me of one of her clients, an American lady, who, while travelling on a train, was invited to share a lunch with an Indian family. After finishing her lunch, she gathered up her plastic wrapping etc. and was looking for a receptacle to put them in, when her Indian companion took them from her, and along with her own trash, promptly threw them out of the train window. The American lady was quite shocked, and explained to her new friend that, had she done that in America, she would be subjected to a substantial fine. The Indian lady said, "You should be moving to India, Madam".
On the other hand, I will never forget the Indian sunrises and sunsets, the incredible timeless beauty of a farmer plowing his field with a team of bullocks while women in saris of every colour tend the rice paddies. Nor will I forget the people. But for now, goodbye India.
My flight from Trivandrum to Sri Lanka took less than one hour, and I arrived in the very modern, clean airport at Colombo. I cleared customs and immigration and entered the main terminal anxious to meet Sherine and Kushan Dharmarwardena, Supipi's Aunt and Uncle. Kushan had e-mailed me Sherine would be holding up a sign with my name on it, and sure enough, there was Sherine, also anxiously, trying to pick me out in the crowd. Sherine and Kushan had been worried they were going to be late in getting to the airport due to the traffic so they had phoned ahead to a friend who works there, and asked her to try and meet me in case they were late. Their friend asked Sherine what I looked like, and Sherine, never having met me, said, "He looks like Santa Clause". My actual age had apparently not been forwarded from India. In any event, they were on time and it was great to meet them after our many e-mail exchanges.
Dear family and friends,
The teardrop, tropical island of Sri Lanka, is splashed down in the Indian Ocean just miles from India. In fact, the two countries are almost joined by a series of small islands called Adam's bridge, and it is not hard to imagine a bridge being built one day. But Sri Lanka is light years away in most respects. But before I get to Sri Lanka, a few post script notes on India.
My last letter was sent from Varkala as I was preparing to depart from Trivandrum, the largest city near the southern tip of India. The train from Varkala to Trivandrum is an easy trip of just over one hour. From Trivandrum I wanted to go to Kanyakumeri for my last day in India as it is the very southern tip where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean, and the Arabian Sea all meet. A government workers strike on that day caused all tours to be cancelled, so I decided to go on my own on regular buses, and I'm glad I went. It was quite exciting actually, to be at that point, dipping my toe simultaneously into all three famous waters.
It was an interesting trip back to Trivandrum as several buses were also cancelled and I ended up having to take an alternate route back, but managed it with the help of yet one more of the locals.
My mind has just been crammed with the sights, sounds, and smells of India, and I leave with some considerable mixed feelings. On the one hand, I cannot overlook the poverty and squalor. India is being buried under a pile of plastic; bags and bottles are discarded everywhere. I have been told that the average cow in India dies with 20 pounds of plastic in its gut.
Deb Kindness, our Intrepid tour leader, told me of one of her clients, an American lady, who, while travelling on a train, was invited to share a lunch with an Indian family. After finishing her lunch, she gathered up her plastic wrapping etc. and was looking for a receptacle to put them in, when her Indian companion took them from her, and along with her own trash, promptly threw them out of the train window. The American lady was quite shocked, and explained to her new friend that, had she done that in America, she would be subjected to a substantial fine. The Indian lady said, "You should be moving to India, Madam".
On the other hand, I will never forget the Indian sunrises and sunsets, the incredible timeless beauty of a farmer plowing his field with a team of bullocks while women in saris of every colour tend the rice paddies. Nor will I forget the people. But for now, goodbye India.
My flight from Trivandrum to Sri Lanka took less than one hour, and I arrived in the very modern, clean airport at Colombo. I cleared customs and immigration and entered the main terminal anxious to meet Sherine and Kushan Dharmarwardena, Supipi's Aunt and Uncle. Kushan had e-mailed me Sherine would be holding up a sign with my name on it, and sure enough, there was Sherine, also anxiously, trying to pick me out in the crowd. Sherine and Kushan had been worried they were going to be late in getting to the airport due to the traffic so they had phoned ahead to a friend who works there, and asked her to try and meet me in case they were late. Their friend asked Sherine what I looked like, and Sherine, never having met me, said, "He looks like Santa Clause". My actual age had apparently not been forwarded from India. In any event, they were on time and it was great to meet them after our many e-mail exchanges.
03 February 2002
Around The World In a 60s Daze. Chapter IV - India, Oh India...
February 3, 2002.
Dear Family and Friends,
India, Oh India!
Where do I begin? This has been such an incredible adventure.
But to start. English is very commonly used in India, but that has been no great advantage to me. (I am the first person to acknowledge how unsuccessful I am at languages.) Despite their best efforts, I find it very difficult to understand what people are saying. It has much to do with the intonation and cadence (it's almost sing song), but the different usage of words, as well as their order, all make it seem like they are speaking a foreign language with a few English words thrown in.
As an example of how English is used, one night I was sitting up late in the lobby reading and having a tea. The man serving me hovered around a bit anxiously and then asked, "I am knowing when you will be leaving sir?" In other words, "Please tell me when you are going to bed". I am often told "same, same" when shopping or bargaining. Which would be okay, except that is often followed by "but different". Several times when I have asked the price of something, I am told, "Oh, it is very less, sir." Cheap, they mean.
Dear Family and Friends,
India, Oh India!
Where do I begin? This has been such an incredible adventure.
But to start. English is very commonly used in India, but that has been no great advantage to me. (I am the first person to acknowledge how unsuccessful I am at languages.) Despite their best efforts, I find it very difficult to understand what people are saying. It has much to do with the intonation and cadence (it's almost sing song), but the different usage of words, as well as their order, all make it seem like they are speaking a foreign language with a few English words thrown in.
As an example of how English is used, one night I was sitting up late in the lobby reading and having a tea. The man serving me hovered around a bit anxiously and then asked, "I am knowing when you will be leaving sir?" In other words, "Please tell me when you are going to bed". I am often told "same, same" when shopping or bargaining. Which would be okay, except that is often followed by "but different". Several times when I have asked the price of something, I am told, "Oh, it is very less, sir." Cheap, they mean.
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