Perspective of age

A friend and I visited Fort St. George in Chennai (Madras) some months back. This was the first English foothold on the Indian continent, established in the early 1600's. I had been once before a few months earlier, but there were some additional photographs I wanted to capture, particularly of St. Mary's Church which is the oldest Anglican Church in Asia, completed around 1680.

During the previous visit I had only seen the museum and the church. You're not allowed to enter the Secretariat, since it serves as the main government building for Tamil Nadu State. Actually, the Prime Minister of India (Dr. Manmohan Singh) was in Chennai one weekend to inaugurate the new Secretariat building which is under construction across town, so I'm not sure if the Fort St. George location will be opened to the public at some time.

On this visit, we wandered further afield and explored the complex. The old barracks has been converted into a storage depot for the Indian army, and the balconies were piled high with cases of stuff. We also discovered the old battlements and gun emplacements that protected the fort. The moat on the west side has turned into marsh, and we saw kingfishers, herons and many other birds. I wasn't fast enough with the camera to get a decent picture of a kingfisher who briefly landed on a tree nearby.

Then this elderly Tamil man came by and stopped to talk with us. He spoke very good English, but was still a little difficult to understand since most his teeth were missing. He was thrilled to see us and thanked us profusely for visiting his country. He had been an army officer and spoke of the old days and his fondness for the British. He spoke of Robert Clive and we both had the impression at the time that he was saying that he knew Clive, which is scarcely creditable since later research revealed that Clive died in 1774. It was clear the the man admired the British and was concerned about the condition of self-governed India since independence. There was even a hint of regret that the British had left.

This was astonishing to me at first, but I realized that there was significant turmoil and pain during independence and partition. All of those who lived through those times, and especially those who had success within the British system saw their whole world turned upside down. This man saw Clive (who was largely responsible for establishing British military control over India) as a hero, although I suspect many of his fellow countrymen would have difficulty with that characterization. Personally, I'm thankful that India is free and independent, but history is rarely as clean and neat as we would like to believe.

I was reminded of my trip to China a few years back with a touring choir. We did one exchange concert with the faculty choir for a large university in Hangzhou. They were kind and welcoming and passionate about sharing their music with us. It was a very moving performance. Most of the faculty choir members were elderly and I realized as I watched that most of them were old enough to remember China before the revolution. These were folks who had seen their world completely changed several times over. They had survived (and perhaps even participated) in the Communist revolution. They had survived the Cultural Revolution, where being a professor was a dangerous profession. Now they are living through an upheaval as significant as the others, with the incredible economic and social changes that are occurring in China today.

The perspective of first hand experience somehow doesn't always translate to history once the original witnesses are gone. I'm very grateful for the witnesses to history that I have met, including my parents, and I hope I always take in the stories that describe the personal side of history.

Recycling

Chennai can be a dirty city. Every city produces dirt, grime and garbage, but with an "official" population of 8-10 million and an estimated population of perhaps double that, everything is more intense. One figure I saw had the population density at over 60,000 people per square mile. By contrast, the population density of Seattle is 7,000 per square mile and Bellingham's was under 3,000.

Today, I had lunch with the team from the office, and my mango ice-cream came in this cool container. The inside are leaves that are machine stitched together, and the outside is recycled newspaper. There is a tradition here of using leaves to serve food. If you ever get dhosa and idli with sambar and chutneys, it should be served on a banana leaf.



It's great that there are businesses willing to make a difference, even in this small way.

Significant kitty experiences

I love animals--cats, dogs, otters and even elephants. Since I've been away from my own cats, my encounters with animals takes on even more significance. My recent trip to Thailand introduced me to the following "significant" cats.

First of all there is the Siamese cat (in Siam). He greeted me on my arrival to the Akha village known as Elephant Valley.

Then there is the typical bookstore cat. This was down a side street in Chiang Mai, where there were 4 really good bookstores, although only one cat. In this store, I found a couple of Rumpole books I don't already have.

This cat was my buddy on my visit to a Hmong village on Doi Inthanon (the tallest mountain in Thailand). I stress that his stress is not due to me. One of the village dogs was nearby and the kitten was asserting his authority.

I found this kitty literally outside my hotel. [OK, so it was outside my hotel, a 20 minute taxi ride, a 15 walk through the zoo property and there he was--outside my hotel].

Mentors

Within the space of of a month, we have lost two great mentors of jazz. Hal Malcolm and John "Coach" Moawad were pioneers of vocal jazz education. Beyond that influence, they touched thousands of lives with their passion, humor and loving care. They were more than great musicians and teachers. They were great motivators of people.

For me personally they were mentors and friends. They reached out to me and gave me many opportunities and challenges to foster my growth as a musician and as a human being. I am a better person for them having been a part of my life and this is a better world for the great legacy they have left behind.

Rest in Peace.

Christmas in the Tropics

This is not my first Christmas in a place where a "White Christmas" would be impossible (rather than just unlikely), and the whole experience altered by climate and culture. I remember some creative attempts at Christmas trees as a kid, including one year using the branch of a mango tree. The one family tradition that I remember with fondness, but never have seen elsewhere or attempted to replicate as an adult, was the home-made banner decorations using white tissue paper as the banner and cut stars in red and green foil.

This Christmas will be one of the most unusual. Although all my friends have left town and my family is celebrating on the opposite side of the world, I am sharing it with one of my favorite dogs and she always has her own way of adding color to events. For Christmas Eve, I'll be eating an Italian Christmas meal and joining in with hundreds of others in the Christmas Eve Midnight Carol Service at St. George's Cathedral. Then I'll have a Christmas breakfast and probably a seafood brunch on the beach.

I'm looking forward to experiencing a different kind of magical event which Christmas always seems to bring. Merry Christmas to all, and as Tiny Tim would say. "God bless us, everyone!"

Chennai update

Five months in Chennai and I’m finally catching up. I think I would have been better about updating if I was here for a short visit, but I live here and it doesn’t feel extraordinary most of the time. Of course, there are times when I step back and realize that I’m in an exotic country and I can marvel.

It’s an amazing feeling living in a place and actually doing the “tourist thing.” I’ve found that in most places I’ve lived, I’ve only visited the high spots to show visitors from out of town how cool it is. This time around I am striving to be an unabashed tourist.

For instance, I visited this beautiful church on a Saturday morning and realized that they were setting up for a wedding. I just went on snapping pictures left and right, “oblivious” to the fact—American tourist at his best. In fairness, they were at a very early stage of preparations and I wasn’t in the way.

St. Andrews Kirk is a “youngish” church, (about 1821). It’s loosely based on St. Martin-in-the-Fields (Trafalgar Square, London).

I also have the luxury to go back if I miss something. I’ve been to Mammalapuram three times so far, and I have plans to go back. The second time I went, I barely had time to see the sights. We settled into a beachside restaurant for a brunch that lasted for several hours—seafood, great conversation and a great view. I ended up skipping most of the photographs I wanted to take that day and went back another time. There are some other destinations that I will re-visit with friends, as that tends to color your experience.

The 7th Century Shore Temple at Mammalapuram, as viewed from Bob Marley's beachside restaurant.

Perhaps the best plan will be to abandon chronology and share experiences of different places and events in my time here so far.

Happy updating!

Currently reading …

Well, it's not exactly current, since I finished the book a while ago but I haven't shared it with y'all yet so here goes:

So the Dean tried first this and then that and nothing would seem to suit. First of all he wrote:

“It is now forty years since I came among you, a youth full of life and hope and ardent in the work before men–” Then he paused, doubtful of the accuracy and clearness of the expression, read it over again and again in deep thought and then began again:

“It is now forty years since I came among you, a broken and melancholy boy, without life or hope, desiring only to devote to the service of this parish such few years as might remain of an existence blighted before it had truly begun–” And then again the Dean stopped, He read what he had written; he frowned; he crossed it through with his pen. This was no way to write, this thin egotistical strain of complaint. Once more he started:

“It is now forty years since I came among you, a man already tempered and trained, except possibly in mathematics–” And then again the rector paused … And the rector mused so long that when he began again it seemed to him that it was simpler and better to discard the personal note altogether, and he wrote:

“There are times, gentlemen, in the life of a parish, when it comes to an epoch which brings it to a moment when it reaches a point–”

The Dean stuck fast again, but refusing this time to be beaten went resolutely on:

“–reaches a point where the circumstances of the moment make the epoch such as to focus the life of the parish in that time.”

Then the Dean saw that he was beaten, and he knew that he not only couldn’t manage the parish but couldn’t say so in proper English, and of the two the last was the bitterer discovery.

Stephen Leacock
Sunshine Sketches of a Little Town

I’m not quite sure how I reached this stage of my life without hearing of the “Mark Twain of Canada,” but I have, (until now). I found three books of Leacock to bring with me on this trip, and I have thoroughly enjoyed the wit and humor of the man. He is a must read!