Corinth calling

Apostle Paul had written two letters to Corinthians. I mean TWO letters... it is also mentioned that in Acts of Apostles Paul preached to a group of Corinthians blah blah (Acts of Apostles 18) Now, this was enough for me to include Corinth in my plan to visit while in Greece. I also wanted to visit Thessoliniki, but it seemed to be quite far away... as also Patmos island, so i decided to stop over atleast in Corinth.

By chance, i seemed to stay in a hotel (err...hostel) close to Larissa station in Athens area. Now, i didnt know that Larissa station also is also a suburban railway station with interconnections across Greece. This proved to be a blessing in disguise. I got the train from Larissa station to Corinth. It cost only 6 euros. Now you would expect the train station to be somewhere in the center of the city. I dont know how the train system and planning works in Greece, but this one was outside the city?!? I had to pay 5 Euros to go to the city center, and because it was Saturday, the tourism office was closed. Also it was raining and cold... the security guard outside the tourism office gave me a copy of the Corinth map. Nothing wrong with that, except that copy was not of good quality. I walked around a bit, visited the port and went back to the city center and asked the men in blue (the police men) how to get to Acro Corinth. The younger one spoke English and guided me to the busstop.

At the bus stop, i met a nice Greek girl student, who was waiting to go to Ancient Corinth herself. She adviced me not to go to Acrocorinth which is highup in the mountain as it is a) rainy b) you have to take a taxi and it costs money to go... no guarantee that there would be a return taxi, so you would have to pay the waiting charges also c) it is a Saturday and a holiday period, so no guarantee on the frequency of buses... this was enough to scare me off Acrocorinth and an excuse as i was already feeling cold. We took the bus to Ancient Corinth. From there, i walked uphill and entered the Corinth archeological site. The entry fee was 6euros and it included visit to the Museum and the site itself...

It was nice to see the city planning, it was far away from the harbour, up high in the hill and the old city itself was small... but well planned shops on the west, center and temples, the council house, etc. the historical artifacts in the museum was also good source of information, especially the ones about the gravesite... the statues are no good... i mean, you see that this Zeus, this is Apollos, Diana, blah blah, but except the fact that they worshipped the pagan Gods, the life of the people is not much explained through these statues. But the excavations at gravesite was interesting... they mentioned how and where and from whom and for whom the site was purchased and for how much... extra info which gives you lot of information about city life.

There was a good collection of pottery excavated there... detailed drawings on the pottery of all shapes and sizes, and for various purposes. In one of the shops outside the site, i saw a man handpainting these kind of pots, but they were too expensive for me, so i dropped the idea of buying miniature size pottery even if they are hand painted. Besides, I cant afford to carry around that the rest of my trip guarding it like an egg shell. Some of the pots in the museum, i had absolutely no clue what they would use for... especially the small ones. Too small to be used for anything in the kitchen... may be was used for serving some spicy sause or something. It would also be nice if they write what their intended use was...

There was a whole section of a floor with colored tiles. They were in fabulous condition, considering the city was destroyed many times, rebuilt and it was preserved for thousands of years. Huge patterned flooring, made with tiles the size of keys in keyboard. This was interesting for me. This meant they had conceptualised, done enough planning, color coordination, choosing the right amount of tiles, all one square inch sizes, no mean task. But they didnt mention where they were found... whether in the council house or shops or some nondescript building... would have been nice to know it. It would give you an idea of to what extent people went to decorate where. If it was in a shop, you could assume that it was a common thing around in existence, but if it was a council house then they decorated the public buildings like that etc. But the patterns where nice and way too detailed and well preserved.

I tried to visualize the area with the planning shown there in one of the noticeboards and imagine how it would have looked with people walking around, etc. It was kind of exciting and thrilling... I found the place where Apostle Paul is supposed to have preached from... they said this was the platform called the Bema, which is the platform used to address people and it corraborated with the Biblical mention of the place (i couldnt locate it in the Acts of Apostles). Again, as i imagined hundreds of people around trying to listen to Paul preaching from the platform, Paul in his confident voice, clear, educated, brilliant, public speaker, catching everybody's attention much to the chagrin of the jewish leaders, curious people, doing their chores around, stopping to hear, to understand, the Roman soldiers nonchalantly listening to see if the Jewish leaders' accusations were right, should they put him in prison or let him go.... the place came alive... the Bible says he stayed there for 1.5 years, i wondered where he would have stayed in the city.

After spending some 2-3 hrs i walked back to the place where i should get the bus... i was freezing, and i didnt intend to spend too much time there, but i had 30 mnts for the bus to arrive. I tried to look around a shop to eat, and was so drawn by the citrus trees around. I had read from the Greek tourism booklet that the place was famous for Citrus trees. Now, i wanted to get hold of them as i saw them everwhere.... lovely oranges hanging from the trees, almost every house seemed to have a tree. I went into the store and there was no oranges on sale, naturally... there is no point in selling oranges when every household has atleast one tree, and that tree is full of oranges... the oranges were just lying around, dropped, no one to take and eat... and i was desperate to get hold of them. "And when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, and that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree to be desired to make one wise, she took of the fruit thereof, and did eat," - Genesis 3:6 i really felt like that, i could relate to Eve very much that moment. I have heard people say that stolen oranges are sweet, i saw a tree in an open place, next to a shop, and took two, hoping no one would stop me. Later in the night, as i tried to eat them in the hotel, i realized why not many were bothering to pick them up. They were sour, miserably so... i had to throw one away. The other one is still in my backpack. I dont know what i will do with it... If it survives, i will take it back to Geneva, and may be try to use it as an astringent or in one of my food.

While I was in Ancient Corinth, i met two friendly dogs... one a female black stray dog inside the site... they seemed to be the only ones who go around everwhere, as we humans are not allowed to go beyond certain places (they are barricaded with a rope)

The tourism booklet about Pelopnnese region also suggested that i see Isthmus, the canal connecting the different seas, Ionean sea and Aegean sea(?)... but i passed through it by train, and i didnt want to spend a lot of time on it. I took the bus from New Corinth to Ismos (how the Isthmus area is called) and took another bus to Nafplion.

My big fat Greek experience

While in Greece, i noticed these things...

a) People smoke a lot - young, old, woman, man, etc etc. and everwhere - including restaurants, buses, inside ferries, stations, ticket counters, information booths, everwhere, i mean really everywhere. I really hate this. Not only the fact that i am allergic to that smell, and i am better at identifying the smoke, better than a smoke alarm, it must be wrecking havoc on their health. I made a mental note to check the lung cancer percentage in this country.

b) Most places are clean, but there are a lot of non bio degradable trash around... more than any country in EU i have visited so far(with the exception of Italy). But they do make efforts to clean, even in nasty windy weather - atleast i observed this in Mykonos.

c) Most young people speak English... this is nice as the street signs are in Greek and i really understand it now when people say "you speak Greek and Latin", what they mean now... Its kind of weird to see mathematical symbols, its like you have to solve some geometric equation to decipher the final answer and identify the street name... but Greeks are very helpful.

d) They are not only helpful, but also give extra advice, especially if you look young and vulnerable and foolish.

e) I found something very close to my culture: the family bonding, food, familiar greeting of people in restaurants, etc... heartwarming and nice

f) I didnt observe a lot of people kissing and making out in public, this is significantly different from what i have seen of Western Europe. But then probably argue that Greece is not exactly western europe. Traditionalism still seems to rule the roost.

g) Mommas seem to weild a lot of influence over the family and men behave like i am a man, i am the boss kind. But they still listen to momma. Again, a lot similar to Indian and Italian cultures.

h) People seem to generally religious, atleast the older ones... Greek orthodox upbringing... i havent seen the night life here. I didnt notice many x-rated stores, only one so far. May be it exists in certain places, like the Paquis in Geneva.

i) The water is blue, i mean really blue... crystal clear and nice. I wonder why Indian waters match our murky brown skin color... I also noticed that the rocks are similar to limestone rocks, i.e. easy to break, white and nice, but not too good for the foundation. I think so. I made another mental note to check out the rock types... rocks fascinate me... i have a natural interest in Geology and the different colors, the sizes, the type, the history - wow, they are interesting.

j) Wherever you go, one thing remains the same... train tracks. They are either made of wood or iron, and filled with gravel. Except that gravel color varies from place to place. Here in some places it was white...

if i remember more, i will write more.

My big fat Greek trip

Greece fascinated me and still fascinates me... i felt it would be cool to say that i had been to Greece... well, i didnt know how cool it would be and what it would do to a hot-headed person like me... Since i had nothing to do between Christmas and New year and 2 days of leave from office meant 10 days of holidays in the Christmas season (i love the Bank holidays in Switzerland), i decided to hop over to Greece. Nothing wrong with that. The main reason was not the cool place idea, but it was more like, its a place mentioned by Apostle Paul in the Bible, lot of things in the new church happened here, so it was cool, it was exciting, it sounded marvelous. Except i chose the wrong time and wrong places.

Like a true Biblical follower, i concentrated on places mentioned in the Bible, Patmos island, Corinth, Athens, etc. I checked with my Greek colleagues - who were not Christians. Nice as they are, they couldnt understand my desire to go to Biblical places. Island? Patmos island? They said it is far, and suggested that i go to Mykonos, Hydra, Spetses, Syros etc etc... and Nafplion and what not. They did warn me that the timing of my travel is not ideal (they were kind enough not to mention that it was the worst time) Now, i had no idea that they mentioned all the touristy places... Based on consultations, ideas and suggestions, this is how my plan finally appeared:
26-Dec: Arrive in Athens Greece from Geneva, via Zurich
27-Dec: Travel to Corinth, spend night at Nafplion
28-Dec: From Nafplion, travel to Costa, take boat to Spetses island, and then reach Athens(Pireus port) via Hydra island by boat, stay at Athens.
29-Dec: From Athens, first go to Halandri to change my American express TCs then go to Rafina port (or back to Pireus port) and board ferry to Mykonos island, do a stop over at Syros island.
30-Dec: Return from Mykonos island via Tinos (and visit big church there) and back to Athens Pireus, look around Athens, stay the night.
31-Dec: Look around Athens, travel back to Geneva...

Looked like a cool plan, except that i grossly underestimated the distance, time taken to travel, winter schedules, and the cost associated with it. I am writing this on the 30-Dec, and this is how it worked out.

26-Dec: Arrived in Athens Greece from Geneva, via Zurich
27-Dec: Travelled to Corinth, spent night at Nafplion
28-Dec: Saw Nafplion; took bus from Nafplion to Epidavros, hitchhiked alongwith a French couple back to Nafplion, back to Athens by bus, stayed at Athens.
29-Dec: From Athens, went to Halandri to change my American express TCs (phew!) then went to Rafina port and boarded ferry to Mykonos island.
30-Dec: Returned from Mykonos island back to Athens Rafina port, stay the night.
31-Dec: Hoping to spend half a day looking around Athens, travel back to Geneva...

Believe me, what we plan and what happens is something totally different. I am a sticker to plan, though i stuck to the original schedule as i didnt want to mess up my hotel reservations, you could see how this has worked out. Thank God for small mercies... but if i had gone by the original schedule, i would have collapsed midway through and would have needed medical attention. I am glad it didnt have to be the way i planned. I am very glad indeed. I am kind of rocking and swaying as i write this. Not that i am high on anything. I happened to just write this after my rocky ferry ride and had coffee after 15 yrs, so i am kind of groggy... For each of the places, i hope to write separate posts on my experiences...

Vanity and laziness wins over common sense

Vanity and laziness are a deadly combination. If i hadnt known that earlier, i learnt it recently. More so, when it comes to your foot... Shoes seem to arouse the worst in me, reveals who i am to me in the most idiotic circumstances, how i seem to attain the highest levels of stupidity, much to my discomfort and chagrin. How vain can I be? I realized it off late... having a natural penchant to color coordinate and wear matching stuff (and the fact, i am a woman), i look for shoes to compliment my daily attire. Mind you, i dont have many shoes - not for an average European. For an Indian, its too much (My father calls me the Imelda Marcos of Tamilnadu - i have a former Chief Minister who wins that title by a mile... sshhh!). I have boots, shoes in difference colors, sports shoes, hiking boots, sandals in different colors - all meant for different purposes, or so i convince myself. There are others in India who get by without shoes. I am not sure of how they do it, but i certainly cannot. Recently, as i was getting ready to office - i decided my clothes would go better with a slightly heeled black shoes and not the average comfy leather shoes i wear to walk to office everyday. I knew that the first one was good for my "looks" and provided a temporary fulfillment of my vanity and the second one provided long term and short term comfort... Torn between comfort and vanity, i let my heart rule over my head and chose the black heeled shoes. Now, nothing wrong with the shoes - it is not the best in the world, nor one of the most expensive ones i possess (in fact, the black comfy ones are the most expensive i have), nor is it exceptionally good and sleek looking - it just had that tiny bit of heels which i felt would go better my apparel (and make me look taller?). Then what is actually wrong with that? Hmm, you have to know another dependency for that. I walk to my office everyday - i live just 20 minutes away from office. Considering that i run worse than a tortoise, eat like a pig and as much exercize as an elephant (have you noticed that the only exercize it does is to get the food with its trunks and chew the food?), i try to walk wherever i can. In the first 5 minutes, the shoes would remain fine. Then the next 10 minutes the tempo starts picking up and the next 5 minutes i would begin to experience discomfort and the last 5 minutes it would hurt. But hey, not that i didnt know that earlier. An average brain would think that you would take the heeled ones to office in a plastic bag, while walking with the flat soled shoes and change it back in the office - like millions of other women in the world. Hmm, my average brain thought of that too. But then, i am also lazy. To make a long story short, having experienced discomfort and slight pain when i entered office, and made to run around in circles during the entire 9 hours to different floors and different people, to say parts of my feet were throbbing at the end of my office hours is an understatement. I wanted to hit myself - but then pride comes over. But i wanted to push myself to experience all the results of vanity, laziness and pride, so i would never do it again and that i would know where my priorities lie. I have to tell you, that this wasnt the first time i had done that. Somehow, this time i paid more attention and my feet hurt me more. So as a result of 10 hrs of madness and vanity, i experienced 120 hrs of miserable looking and feeling feet. As such i havent had much appreciation for my feet earlier... one of the most least attractive regions for most women. Now, it looks worse than ever. Have i learned my lesson well? Only time will tell.

Am i judgmental? I hope not!

I love psychology - to understand human beings, to understand their responses, to find reasons as to why they behave in a certain manner, trying to draw conclusions without any scientific study but just by plain observation... because people fascinate me. Behavioral studies interest me, i am always seeking a reason and a cause. I have lost the innocence of accepting anything at face value. I miss that. But when i observe, i understand a person better, i relate to that person better. Their fears, their challenges, their joys, their comforts, their pain, their pride, emotions - everything and anything means something... i lay a lot more emphasis on how people behave in silly or nondescript, ordinary circumstances - it shows a person how they really behave. Not when they are forced to make a critical decision, not in trying circumstances... here they can be either their best or worst, but in normal everyday circumstances, they are forced to be themselves - their guards are always down. They are comfortable, they are natural, they are spontaneous... so because of this nature of mine - the need to observe and file in memory even unimportant things and make quick connections/links which my memory processes at zillion light years per second - i draw conclusions, about people, about incidents, about responses. Yesterday, i was in a Alicia Keys concert. It was good. I wasnt dying for it, but it was good to observe. I found her to be a person who wants to show the world what the world wants to see - masking her inner self, being a performer, being strong willed, determined, focussed, etc. She looked like someone who knows what she wants, and who can give what others want, no matter how she feels it - in other words, hardened by the world... am i judgmental? i dont know. I relate to her, as i see through this mask of hers as someone who has gone through a lot in life to be where she is. She comes across as a person who takes nothing for granted. That shows, that she made sacrifices, she had cried many nights, she is steely, strong, but i miss the little girl within her. On the way back, i was sharing my "wise" opinion with those who were with me. May be they quickly deciphered i was judgmental, but were kind enough to avoid mentioning that to me. Then one of them asked a question about something and me, being the absolutely idiotic blabbermouth that i am, croaked in a totally unwarranted manner about someone we all knew, "i find him to be very observant". Now, apart from the fact that this is totally uncalled for and its none of my business and the person in question was not around, so i shouldnt discuss about him in his absence, i forgot all the basic etiquettes of life, i realized belatedly, what my companions must be thinking of me making statements like this. And regretted my foot-in-the-mouth behavior. Now, note that i wasnt regretting my behavior to judge, that came much later, when i went back home. I was only regretting their opinion of me due to my stupidity. Why? When i need to be working on my behavior and character, i was more bothered about appearances... so we wear masks, and i wear masks too - in fact, so well that no one can recognise my heart or mind. I dont let people become too close to me... if people do observe the change in behavior or if they manage to ask specific questions, i point blank refuse to answer or shut them out... so why the need to understand others, when i am not willing to let others know who i am? I dont know, i am still learning about a part of me that i havent fully understood yet. But they keep you rooted to the ground, helps you face the blaringly obvious facts that you need to change, improve, become better... i am working towards it, with the help of God!

Sexy trees!

Coming from India, that too Chennai, where there are hardly any seasonal changes except the humid monsoon and oven hot summer, i appreciate the beauty of seasons when i am abroad. Some would say lake side is the "Bodhi" tree for me. For those of you who are ignorant about this: it was under this tree that Budha got enlightened. Not that i need a tree to enlighten... but i seem to just glow in nature. It is God's creation, natural, simple, uncomplicated yet complicated, its fabulous!

I dont have a buspass, so i walk around quite a lot... nothing amazing! Considering this is a small city and you can walk the perimeter in 2 hours, its well, nothing great. Also as i have no control over my eating habits, and since the only thing that is connecting me to anything sporty is pyjamas and sports programs on TV, walking seemed to be good option. I love it. I forget myself while drinking in the nature, enjoying the breeze, or the rain, the wave of the trees, the chirp of the birds, the busy walk of people, the emotions they wear on their sleeves, everything fascinates me... i am like a blind person looking at the world for the very first time in my life.

In one of these walks in early June, i noticed how sexy the trees looked - especially some of the trees around the lake. The city gardeners had a rather late enlightenment that after winter, the branches need to be cut to make it looking nice and tidy and orderly! But this was a blessing in disguise for me. After a lot of rain, bright green leaves sprouted in edges of the cut portion while the stem or the branch itself was bare... that was tantalizing, showing a lot of stem and just wrapped it itsy bitsy leafy dresses, oh the branches were sexy... especially when they are fresh, green and tender leaves flirtatiously shaking their lovely mass of green covering, showing a raw spirit, enjoying the attention of the rain and the breeze and giggling with rustling leaves... aah, its glorious... nothing is more sexier than this. Sometimes i imagined them to be Pom Pom girls, with branches stretched with green masses of rustling leaves, and lovely long legs of a stem revealing fabulous well toned muscles... hmm, nice... sometimes, i imagined them to like ostriches... you know how they have long necks, but a feathery body, and they gallop across the land - the trees are also like this, tender leaves with different colors ranging from evergreen to dark green to pinkish or reddish tender shoots covering just the tip of branches and the rest are bare and long... oh, how i let my imagination run wild. You can even draw a parallel to women from different cultures... I know i am taking my imagination to the limit, but believe me, its great to build on an idea.

After some days, the beauty of the youth was lost in the trees, dark green leaves covered and all the branches covered with leaves - it was a different beauty, a matured beauty, but nothing like showing a bit of branch in a tantalizing manner... i love God's creations. Nothing can beat it. Hmm, i love You Lord!

Vanity

When you walk along the lake, you get to observe unobtrusively lot of interesting things... it was one of those relatively warm days in early Spring. Tender leaves, not-so-hot sun, bright evenings, not-plagued-by-tourists-yet scenes, its beautiful, its nice and lovely. Women walking hand-in-hand with their attentive partners, children running around, men playing football, or gregariously laughing at some joke or what seemed obviously funny to them, very very nice scenes to drink in. I love such places... their guards are almost down, they are spontaneous, almost natural and definitely in their elements... But another interesting observation caught my eye. while almost all the men wore very practical shoes, most of the women (except the sporty kind who were either running or walking, or the backpacking kind) wore impossibly high heeled shoes making tok-tok noise on the pavement... i was no different... atleast, i convinced myself that i have left my shoes back home, so until i buy one, i have to go around in these possible heels and non-sporty shoes... interesting! but why heeled shoes for a casual walk? I couldnt come to any logical conclusions with my little brain, except to think it was vanity. Yes, i am short - even for an Indian. All of 5' 2", it just makes me lol when i have to sometimes jump out of SUVs (believe me, they really make cars like this). For pygmies like me, its really needed to wear heels to get by in this world. Any tailored suits/dresses/trousers come long, i mean, really long... they are also impossibly made for models. So naturally, i have major problem locating clothes suitable for my height and weight. Does wearing heels change my height and make me feel tall and make me walk like a model... well, apart from helping me boost my morale a bit about actually being able to almost lookup to a person, it definitely does more damage to my foot nerves... on second thoughts, i realized that they actually damage my nerves (as in mentally)... they damage my appreciation for myself as i am forced myself to believe that wearing heels is a must for me and only tall women can get by... Even Arroyo mentioned that if there was one thing in her physical appearance that she would want to change, it would be height... whats wrong with accepting myself as who I am. I love the way i am... i would have definitely appreciated if i was streched a little further longitudinally but if i had been stretched taller yet had the nature of a pig all the time or i am prideful about it, its a total waste. Vanity! Absolute Vanity! Except boosting your morale temporarily, they dont do anything. I love shoes, mind you... In fact, its wrong to say I love them, I adore them... I bought 3 new pairs today... they were all on sale (almost or 50% off), so i buy them... and it includes heels. But i dont need shoes to make me feel good. Stature has two different meanings - one is the natural height and the other is the attained height in terms of development or respect in others' eyes... the latter one means more to me than the first one.

Cultural Differences - Accessories

(ok, this was written a month back, but i just managed to post it, after letting it hybernate for a while) I am back in Chennai after a year. Things i have taken for granted now surprises me. Its amazing how even use of accessories differ in different cultures. I wouldnt step out without an umbrella on a summer day in Chennai. But in a Western world, you take an umbrella out during summer and people think you are nuts. Its meant for a rainy season!!! Well, we (South Indians) also use it for monsoon season - but it is not a must. In Chennai, it is a common sight to see motor bike riders wearing gloves -specially ladies wear long cotton gloves which almost reaches out to their shoulder blades to protect their hands from sun - this is more to protect the skin color from getting dark (fair-skinned-syndrome - more a color paranoia) than genuine fear getting sun burn. Gloves is a must have winter wear in a Western country. I wear ankle length socks or stockings to protect my feet from getting dusty or dirty and to protect from the sun (i do admit that i have a paranoia for protecting my feet and i am known to have a foot fetish). But i have noticed foreign ladies would love to wear sandals all day long, year around if the weather permits. Women abroad invest on shoes and bags and earrings or other accessories to suit the season, the dress, and the style in vogue. But South Indian women, especially Chennaiites, hmm, having one gold earring is better than 1000 matching sets of shoes, fashion earrings, bags, etc. Why was i an aberration?

What i appreciate in men

There are not lot of things that i appreciate in men! I wish i could, but i have had so many negative experiences, that i prefer to hang around with animals than men. For me, the priority is God.. So, when a man worships God forgetting the world around him or is absolutely close to God, my heart literally does a sommersault... not that i develop an interest in such a person, but i respect and admire such things. I have never been the one who goes after looks or intelligence or richness. I have seen all these in my life, but what i find totally iressistable is the God-factor. Apart from that, these are what I appreciate in men off late.

#1

I was walking hurriedly to the church. I was late and i felt bad. I saw a car park, a father and a son (hardly learning to walk) got down while his wife tried to parallel park. I smiled as i saw the little boy take baby steps and tried to walk, while his father clutched his hand, bent down and lowered his speed. It was a Kodak moment! I have seen dads get irritated if they are late, they would rather lift the baby and drag them around, instead of walking the baby. I appreciate this in a guy - taking time to be with the child. But his father was trying to walk him to the other end, when the entrance to the Centre was right in the middle. I blinked! I wondered why! My confusion was answered in a few seconds, i noticed the father leading the boy to the road crossing which was in the other end. He wanted to teach the little one, even at such a young age, to obey road signs. Here is one father who would be a good disciplinarian. I really appreciate that in men. I do hope that he would also learn to come early to church as a family.

#2

It was Mother's day. So the church service was centered around that. They had also invited a special lady speaker. Hmm, nice. I wondered if she was already part of the church or someone from outside. Well, she turned out to be the one who was sitting 2 rows away from me - an eager, enthusiastic, cheerful, relatively older woman (psst... woman hate to be told they are old). I had noticed her earlier during the worship as she was full of smiles all the time and i had never seen her before at church. When the Master of Ceremony invited her, i saw her walking towards the pulpit followed by her husband. Again i blinked! She seemed to walk with a slight limp, but i didnt blink for that. Its because her husband followed her. I hadnt seen 2 people share message at the same time unless one is translating. But then in Geneva, anything would happen. But interestingly, the husband carried the Bible, her notes and her references in his hand, placed them near the pulpit and came back. I was amazed. Such care and love and affection, for a wife who is limping, to whom he has been married for more than 30 yrs (she mentioned it in the sermon), he didnt even think twice about doing it. She never requested for it. It seemed like the most natural thing that he would do - like changing his seating position or something. I had hardly noticed her husband while je was standing next to her. But now, i did and i appreciated him. I appreciate this love and commitment even after 30 yrs of marriage.

#3

Waiting at the chocolate counter in a major store, i observed an eager little boy looking at the truffles and give pleading looks to his dad. His father, obviously not too happy at the prospect of buying chocolate, mentioned in French that he will only pay for chocos worth 2 CHF. The boy happily nodded, and the young man at the counter smiled as he proceeded to select the chocos the boy wanted. The little boy pointed to two truffles and the young man measured the chocos. It was already 1.65 CHF, but the little boy oblivious of the money, pointed to another truffle. i had an almost irresistable tendency to buy the chocos for him, but i wondered if it would be a wise idea with his father in tow. If he had been all by himself, i probably would have. I looked anxiously at the young man behind the counter. He didnt notice me looking at him, but not wanting to disappoint the little boy, he put the extra truffle and said without measuring the extra one, the price is 1.65 CHF sir. His father didnt seem to have noticed that he never measured it again or he pretended not to notice. He gave 2 CHF and received 0.35 CHF as change. The young man proceeded as if nothing had happened. He didnt do it because the boy pleaded, he didnt do it because someone else was noticing his good behavior, he didnt do it because his boss would recognise (or be disgruntled) at his extra service... but he did it because he wanted to make a little boy's day. Oh how i appreciate that in a man, to not bother about the little things and be sensitive to others' needs...

#4

30h praise and worship! I wondered if it would get very crowded, would people be as committed as in my hometown, how much does God matter to these people to sacrifice a whole weekend on God, how would be the response, blah, blah as i made my way to the "Centre" where it was being held. Not bad, it was relatively crowded for a Christian program not presided by a famous preacher/singer/theologian. One of the organisers, whom i knew, was sitting in the front. I had seen his wife sitting behind all by herself. I thought it to be weird, usually in western countries, a couple sit together! Well, the logic that she doesnt want to sit in the front was shot down by the proof that i see her often sitting in the front seat in church. Well, its her choice. I liked the fact that she doesnt feel compelled to sit next to him just because he is sitting in the front. Some 30 minutes later, i saw the man walk over to the other side to help himself to a glass of water. Probably he was thirsty, a natural assumption. As he returned to his seat with the plastic cup still full of water, he looked at his wife, raised his glass with eyebrows raised and a query in his eyes, as if to say "are you thirsty, can i get you some water?"... i didnt turn around to see his wife's purpose. Apparently it was a No, as he smiled and walked away... but in that one moment forgetting the people around, forgetting the location, forgetting everything else, the look of tenderness and the commitment and love and appreciation, and attention that they exchanged just with two pairs of eyes connecting and communicating, and just the simple exchange of comfortable silence, where they didnt have to explain everything in words, didnt have to hold hands, didnt have to declare undying love, didnt show love with cards or shower each other with gifts, but a simple expression of love and kindness and the knowledge, that I am yours, you are mine, i care about you, i provide for you, and you mean a lot to me, revealing a lifetime of togetherness and acceptance of each other - across an ocean of human beings amidst the noises of the world (ok, rather, praises in this case)... oh j'adore ça. I love this love. Its not about fluttering hearts, butterflies in stomach, or having goose-bumps when a guy touches you or nothing else, but knowing that you are loved and cared for, by simple expressions which may never go noticed, but are felt and cherished, or taken granted for, but just enjoyed at the knowledge of being acknowledged as a hungry partner, or a thirsty better half or needy spouse or just acknowledged for the sake that you are his wife... well, what can i say? May be i love this as i have often found guys being interested in me as in my body, and my brain, so i adore someone who looks beyond that and is confirmed or brought together by a lifetime of togetherness and tender moments

#5

I had noticed this many years back in India... you have to understand my culture to understand what it means to me. We dont express our love outwardly with hugs or kisses or simple gentlemanly expressions of holding the door open for women, or for that matter, helping the woman with a jacket when she is cold - ok the last bit is too much, its too hot in Chennai to even think of wearing a jacket anytime of the year... i have never seen my dad or mom kiss each other, on very rare occassions they hug me or kiss me on the cheek (like when i return from a different places or i celebrate my birthday). It would be totally weird and honestly, i wouldnt know how to react if my parents start kissing infront of me... i find it easier to watch these things on TV or done by western people..

while returning home from work, i observed a couple in a motor bike with 2 children - all hanging precariously as the husband spun around a ramp deftly yet speedily... i wondered why Indian road users dont have any respect for laws or rules or have no inkling of speed limits... i saw the motor bike suddenly swerve to the left and make a stop... i was confused for a moment... this guy was speeding while negotiating a curve, but come flat ground, he grinds to a stop! The family got my whole attention! He took off his shirt (which was another totally whacky thing to do in my city, as even guys dont strip off in public - except when they are labourers and they take off their shirt to avoid it getting dirty or for whatever reasons) and handed over to his wife, who put it on herself without a question... Well, she was apparently cold and the cool, evening sea breeze was probably too cold for her, while we were sweating buckets! May be she was sick. It was nice to an Indian man do this for his wife... i am sure many Indian guys have done much more for their wives. But it stays in my memory, as it was a very spontaneous act, very gentle, very tender, very loving and very caring... he didnt blast a lusty earhorn saying sweet heart, je t'aime, or sing around the trees, or other fancy things, just a simple expression of love. India is very famous for Taj Mahal, a symbol of love. Honestly, i dont care about extravagant expressions... what really matters is simple expressions of love expressed in day-to-day lives making life more meaningful leaving a desire to live and let others live...

#6

I was walking down the road hurriedly... well, yes, running late seems to run in my blood stream... i am trying to change that. But unlike others who cut across traffic signals, i cannot. I mean, i can, but i dont. Its my policy. You cannot compromise on your principles and policies. Its actually more than a policy. I made an agreement with God, so i have to obey it. It is rather difficult, i admit, when it is midnight and there are zero vehicles on the road, and i still obey the light. It drives my friends nuts. My logic goes thus: if you are driving a car (abroad, not in India) and if you could stop at a signal no matter what time of the day, why cannot i do the same? Why should it not apply to pedestrians as well... Well, anyways, in this case, i stopped at a red light. Left, right, forward, there seemed to be no car, soul in sight. But i fidgeted on the road. I saw a cyclist coming very fast. Since i have witnessed that cyclists are no respecter of rules, i hardly even considered this human being. But surprisingly enough, he stopped at the signal. The light turned to green, and i crossed over, i was sure that this guy would overtake me... but no! I was surprised, but i walked on... Few metres down the road, i stopped again for the light. There was no soul in sight again! I turned around to see that the cyclist had come and he was stopping at the traffic light too. Now, thats something to appreciate in a man. People say its nothing great. Well, budyy... you dont realise how hard it is for cyclists and pedestrians to obey traffic. In reality, for anyone, on a normal sane human mind level, its more difficult to obey a rule. I used to believe that rules were written only to be broken. I have changed. Now, people who obey rules fascinate me! Its so hard to find one who obey traffic rules that when i do notice a few, my respect for them really goes up. I turned around to come out of dreamy appreciation of this guy, and looked around. He was cycling hard towards his destination and probably to wait at the next signal too.

More to follow...

What really matters!

My sisters eldest son proudly claimed that he could do "Medium" Sudoku, i said i was impressed (did i teach him to play Sudoku a year back? i think so! I remember we tried to do the "Easy" Sudoku together)... I had encouraged him to read the newspaper also... he is all of 9 years old. He made a grab for the English paper, and my sister's voice floated from the kitchen, "Son, read the Bible first and then read the paper..."


Its nice to go back home, i dont expect my family members to come and greet me at the airport... but my mom, my sis and her husband decided to come and pick me up from the airport. I was feeling bad as it was a Monday morning and i would step out after baggage claim around 1:00 AM. But my sis and bil were adamant that they would receive me at the airport... it was nice to see them, we reached home a little after 1:15 AM and i was packed off to sleep by 2:00 AM. I was spending the night at my sister's place and woke up barely a few hours later. It gave me an opportunity to observe what i had missed for more than a year... the shy smile of the children, the monday morning blues, etc... But the fact that God still comes first gives me great comfort and happiness... ofcourse i expected nothing different, but it still brings peace and joy. I am content!


Few hours later, during breakfast, between mouthfulls of food, my sister's youngest son said he was learning to read in Tamil at school, and my sis chipped in that he is doing well... he recited something in Tamil and i couldnt understand a word of it. But it was still nice to hear him speak Tamil. Usually, they speak English (well, the heavily accented Indian English, i didnt realize how accented it was until i started traveling myself!)... Few minutes later, as we were rolling around playing in the bed, i asked him if he had prayed in the morning and he said yes... he said that he could recite a Psalm and i asked him to recite it for me... in his boyish voice he recited Psalm 95, it didnt sound like the one i read often (i read it in King James Version, it sounds a lot different from other versions, believe me!), but i was so proud of him. If he had been class first, i would have been happy, if he had spoken in Tamil very nicely, i would have been happy, but hearing him recite a Psalm that he had memorized, even though he cant read so well, what can i say, makes me so proud, and happy, and joyful and emotional. I hugged him and kissed his forehead, he was a bit embarassed, but I was thankful for my family.

The same day, i visited my aunt. She wasnt expecting me, she knew i had returned to India only that day, but never expected me to visit her. As one of the youngest nieces in the family, and by family tradition - the younger ones usually drop in to say hello to older members of the family. We, Indians, never inform people - especially relatives if we are living in the same city or nearby... i asked my mom if she should call her and let her know, and she growled and glowered at me. So i shut up. When we rang the bell, my uncle and aunt were delighted to see me. Then my aunt mentioned that she was doing her Bible Study lessons. Hmm, nice to be reassured that God factor runs in the family. It is a privilege to be born in such a family, where God is unwittingly part and parcel of our lives. I never took so much notice of it until recently. But i am so proud of every moment of it. Thank God for small mercies. Few days later when i visited my oldest sister's family, i was proud to know how many Psalms my nephews have memorized - they put me to shame, i cant even remember a whole chapter. Looks like they would complete the entire book by the end of the year.

As i look back at my days in India, i realize that the things that brought me joy was not food, it wasnt actually the family (though it was nice to be back with family), it wasnt the city, my birthland, nothing... but how God is still the center of our lives. It brings a smile to my eyes when i remember how my father wanted to pray and sing, so i shut off the TV, how i would hear him pray early in the morning, my sisters talking about God, my friends discussing about the power of prayer, fasting and fellowship over lunch, or how God spoke to me on certain occassions, it is a blessing! It is truly a blessing to be part of this and this is what really matters in life!

My city had changed quite a bit - new buildings had sprouted like mushrooms, new highways, new roads, new flyovers (but same old traffic jam), but i am glad that Jesus is still the center of our lives. I love Him.

A mother's love

She was so tired, i was doing my little bit to help her... looked like i was troubling her more than helping her. She is not in the best of her health and she is definitely not young and spirited like she used to be. But i was home for holidays, and because i had travelled halfway across the globe to see her, she wanted to do it for me... she made laddoos, murukkus, my favorite type of cake, idiappam, aappam, poori, briyani, coconut milk rice, fish curry, mutton fry, etc etc - i ate so much in the last 20 days that i put on 4 kilos. The last day, she wanted to make idiappam for me again. I said mom, you must be very tired, why do you want to do this, i dont need it. She said, no, i want to do it, otherwise i will feel bad, i am already feeling sad that the murukkus werent crispy enough. Here she was extremely exhausted, tired to the bone, and all she could think was that the murukus were not good enough for me. I asked her why moms are always so sacrificial. She said, i am not like my mom - she only had food after everybody ate, and on days we helped ourselves to extra food and didnt leave for her anything, she never complained, but managed with what she had... I am amazed at how mothers can always love so much and give so much and sacrifice so much. Well, my mom doesnt fit in to the stereotypical mom category (and i really appreciate her for that), but the extent she goes to make me feel special sometimes shames me no end. I am not sure if i would do as much, but she believes that i would bring up my children very well as i have travelled, known the world, knows so much, etc... i dont think all these matters. What matters is your ability to touch lives wherever you go. It doesnt matter how far you go, its the path you take that matters.

Cultural Differences - Skin Color

Indians are paranoid about being fair skinned and would go to any lengths to make themselves fair. Believe me, nobody even looks at a dark chocolate colored South Indian young woman like me! We even have a saying that not even common living things like flies or crows would care about us. Being dark skinned, my parents would find it difficult to get me married as color matters - a lot (well, color alone doesnt always matter, but it is an important criteria)! You look at a advt in a Sunday Hindu classifieds for brides and you would laugh - wanted very fair, beautiful, tall, slim girl with BE below24 yrs of age from xx caste and from a rich family. Going by the looks of it, i would never find an Indian groom as i dont meet any of the above specifications. But, foreigners love my color. They think i am beautiful. I find it ridiculous, and i am not sure if they are joking or just want to make me feel better. Anyways, its a funny world.

Cultural Differences - Weather

Rain is romantic, its ethereal, out of the world and its wonderful to get wet and I enjoy the rain (except when you are going to office and the roads are bad). I enjoy the special smell of sand + rain, seconds after the rain kisses the ground - we call it mannvasanai. Its unique, it is one of my favorite smells - beats Body Shop and Victoria's Secret by light years. The sputter of rain on a tin roof, and the birds chirping just before the rain starts and flying fast to get home, the branches that sway beautifully like a peacock to drink the rain and be rejuvenated, its poetry in motion. I love the after effects of rain too... the beautiful tender shoots that appear (no matter how hard you pray and how often you pour water and how regular you are - it simply doesnt have the same effect of a natural rain water splash on the plants), the wet feel of a ground (not puddles of water and road full of holes like in Chennai), the grass that look greener than you have ever noticed them, the brilliant blue sky, zero dust as the dust particles have settled down, its beautiful - nature at its best. You tell that to a foreigner and they think you are a weirdo! Rain excites me, thrills me, just watching the rain come down lifts my spirit 2 notches up. My colleagues look at me incredulously and want to throw me out... I am the only one excitedly standing near the window when it rains and enjoying the rain and i grin from ear to ear... Mind you, i dont like it when it is cold and windy... brrr... i dont mind the cold weather, but i do hate very windy weather. May be i like rain as it is so rare in Chennai, and dark clouds appear once in a blue moon! My foreign friends complain about the weather when they see a cloudy day. And a perfect day is a cloudless day with the sun shining bright. Well, if they had been born and raised in Chennai, i am sure they would be like me. Come sunshine, i step indoors and try to protect myself - having a very Sun sensitive skin type also contributes to my behavior. But i dont necessarily step out when it is raining, but enjoy it, simply because it will not be hot (may be humid, but never hot!) when it rains.

Cultural differences - Dating

My colleague and friend once mentioned that she had never seen me receive a call from female friends. Come to think of it, its true! For a Chennai city girl coming from an orthodox Tamil family, i have more guy friends than girl friends. Having been a tom boy once, i find it much easier to communicate with guys... My Indian male colleagues and friends have never considered me as a girl. I was one of the boys, the fact that i was the only girl in my team helped quite a bit. But... surprisingly, when i travel abroad this tendency of mine to hang out with guys drastically changes. The reason? some of my foreign acquaintances thought i was interested in them, that i was a flirt and treated me as such. Now, this was complicating things. I could talk to an Indian guy for hours, but our position is clear: you and i are colleagues, the moment we leave this place, i don't know who you are, if i see you on the road, i would probably not wave at you or stop to speak to you. Its not that we don't want to... but if my neighbors see me talking to a guy on the road, their tongues start wagging, my character goes for a toss, our family honor (???) is down the drain as the society thinks that we have loose morals, blah, blah. It gets on my nerves, but to maintain peace in the family, i would smile and move on and never stop to talk to a guy, unless one or both my parents are with me. Anyways, bottom line: talking to an Indian guy is easy, he doesn't develop feelings very easily (or until some numskull of a friend starts pulling his leg about his relationship with me, at which time the idiot starts dreaming and wondering if he really is attracted towards me). Asking a girl out on a date would be out of question. But, its not so with a foreigner: they don't understand the cultural differences. They are interested in a girl, they ask her out on a date. My first ever experience in being "asked out on a date" was then confusing for me (and now amusing) and embarrassing for the guy in question. He was a very friendly single colleague of mine, and me, the usual chatter box. I was online in our inter office chat when a message popped up.
Him: Hi
Me: Hi
H: I was wondering if we could go out for dinner sometime!
M (confused, baffled...): (after a few seconds of slow mental processing, my logical thinking made me write this) Came to the wrong window?
H: (No response, ever again)
Poor guy, i am sure he never expected this reply. I laughed and laughed later when i thought about it. That guy never opened his mouth to talk to me again, except for work related talks.

Things have changed after almost 8 years, i am more aware of the cultural differences. I have dated guys (both Indians and foreigners). Its scandalous in this part of the world to even admit it. I am sure my friends would look at me differently if they come to know about it. I don't talk much about it. But i have made a conscious decision not to date anymore. Since i am not interested in "arranged" marriages, i have no clue how i will find my guy. But being single is nice, and i am happy. I think that matters more than having a boyfriend and feeling emotionally drained, or having a husband and wondering why i am married to him. Its unfair on the guy, more than me. So i am happily single.

Home

One year seemed like a long time to be away from home. Well, its not actually long. Atleast, not long enough to change a lot of things... There are some things that never change : the lascivious look of men, the dirty streets, the cockroaches that scare the daylights out of me, the noise, the dust, the traffic which makes you think you live life on the edge everyday, cheating auto drivers, etc. These maketh Chennai. But... there are other things that never change as well. My mom's face lighting up when she sees me on arrival, her kiss and misty eyes, my sister's smile and hug, my mom's cooking, or my sister just over-feeding me with spicy, rich food, my father's voice breaking as he greets me after so many months, the slightly shy, delicate first look on my nephews, their awkward smile, their first hug, the fact that they have grown, etc. I love this. These maketh my family.