The Motherland

We have arrived again in the true north, strong and free complete with snow drifts, howling winds, and closed roads. I feel like a figurine in one of those shake n' snow glass jars stranded in the midst of a winter wonderland. If this sounds like complaining, I would hasten to add that we are absolutely loving it!
Reuniting with friends and family has been the best part about coming home. We have not had much time to simply "be" since we have many people to see and little time to do it. The infamous four is no more with Erick's move to Cambridge. He is living in a bachelor pad with friends from Summit for the next month. He will be sure to update soon and let you all know what his plans are for the next year.
Hilko, Annette and I head to the Dominican Republic, Lord willing, tomorrow. If this Candian weather keeps up we may be forced to extend our stay. (Could this be an answer to your prayer yesterday, Matt?)

It is very hard to sum up what the past 6 months have been like for us. I have a feeling that our memories will come as snapshots spreading over years to come. Encountering a smell, song, or accent will, inevitably, transport us back to a time in our trip. Right now it still feels like a dream.

Someone asked me what the most significant lesson was that I learned on this trip and I told her that it was the kindness we encountered in every place we went. Often we are fed information that the world is all evil but what I learned is that there are still many good people: Angels of mercy. We have all agreed that we want to be kind to travelers wherever and whenever we come in contact with them. We realize that our trip would have been impossible without their kindness and we are more than ready to return the favor.

We love you all and cannot wait to see you face to face.
Your prayers, e-mails, comments, letters, and interest in our lives and trip have literally overwhelmed us. Thank you sincerely~*

~Grace-Emma

Homeward

I'm writing this from a small Internet cafe in Bombay Airport. It's Tuesday and we were supposed to be leaving two days ago. Then things got a bit sporty. The nice man at the counter told us that our flights had been cancelled and that there was nothing he could do for us. I called the airline in Dubai and the nice lady there told me that the next three flights leaving the country from their airline were full. The best she could do was get us on a flight on Tuesday night. Then I called the hotel we had booked in Dubai and the nice man their politely told me that because we were cancelling so late they would retain the rate of our first night's stay which was $140, and that there was nothing he could do for me. This all in the space of a few hours. But something cool happened. Nobody freaked out. Nobody even flinched. We had something similar happen to us while we were in Scotland at the beginning of the trip and it was a different story. Nerves were raw and things were tense. This time around there was a sort of air that said that since option A was no longer an option, option B would need to made up on the spot. We gave our friend Ravi a ring and in two hours he was back with a taxi. We went back to the hotel we had just checked out of and re-checked in. And we had two fun days in the city. Ravi was the guy who helped us out when we first got here and he has been good as gold all the way through. Today during lunch he introduced us to a friend of his who is a big-time politician. He told us that if there were any problems with getting our flight today that we could call him and he would fix the problem. Thankfully it didn't come to that and we have our boarding passes in hand and we are set to go.

Right now it is 5:30 in Bombay. We will fly to Dubai tonight spend a few hours there and then catch a flight to Glasgow, Scotland in the morning. We'll spend 24 hours in Glasgow and then hop the 11AM flight to Toronto and land(thanks to flying with time changes) at 1 in the afternoon on Thursday. So the next time that you will hear from us will be from Canada. It probably goes without saying, but we are all really tired and ready for a chance to unwind at home. More on that from our beautiful homeland.

Pictures from India

More India

Up to Speed

Tonight I write from the city of Vishakapatnam, India, otherwise known as and from here on refered to as Visag. Here in Visag is an orphanage. In that orphanage live two hundred little Indian boys and girls. On the third floor lives the Mekala family and, at present, a little band of displaced Canadian freeloaders. We have been boarding with the Mekalas for the past week or so. We know them because Grace Emma and I know Donna Mekala (formerly Connelly) from our Indianapolis days. Grace and Donna were in the same EQUIP class. It has been some years since that time, but this is one of those friendships that you pick up where you left off. I say this from my observation of Grace and Donna and the relatively short amount of time it took for them to get down to business and start giggling and telling eachother their life stories and so on. You know how it goes. So we are all one big happy family. Donna has a brother and two sisters here from Arizona and the whole bunch of us have been having adventures this week.

The Kids
So before I get too far I will say a little about the kids here at the orphanage. There are, as I mentioned, two hundred of them running around and they are quite happy and well taken care of here. The youngest are 5 or 6 and the oldest 14 or 15. The language here is Telagu which sounds like nothing you've ever heard not counting Klingon, and so it has been a bit of a trick to communicate. But putting the trusty arm and leg number in use has made it possible for us to let them know we are from far away, that we love them, and that we mean them no harm. All they want to do is play games and for us to tell them what their names are. It's 200 vs. 4 so we're doing poorly with the names. There is one little guy who looks at bit like ET and so we can remember his name but apart from that we are stuck. The kids are fond of playing their version of pattycake with us. It's not wimpy or uncool to play pattycake in India, even if you are a teenager. Plus it doesn't involve a lot of talking. There is a lot of pattycake going on at the orphanage these days. The staff are able to speak English and Telagu, but they are not always around. Maybe they are tired of translating. But the kids are great and spending time with them is not a drag at all.

The Mountains
My favorite. Yesterday we took a trip to the mountains. Not the Himalaya as it is in the north of India, but the smaller ones here in the south. The orphanage has a church/orphanage it supports in the foothills of said mountains and a small congregation up in the higher parts of the mountain. We drove in a school bus to the church in the foothills and then hiked to the mountain village for a service with the people there. The village is very remote and the people there had not seen very many white people. Which made it even cooler to be there. The area and the view on the way up and then down were amazing. It was like time hadn't touched the place at all. There was no garbage and no noise, only quaint little villages here and there and terraced rice patties as far as you could see. Every field was a different shade of green. Really the only noises you heard were the water buffalo grazing on the dormant patties and the people working on their piece of land. I told the others that if I had a hut and a lifetime supply of books, the next time they would see me would be in ten years. The church service was very small but special. It was a big deal that the white people were there so the village people had taken their sarees (brightly colored wraps) and hung them up in the street as a canopy for us to sit under. When the service was over they asked us to pray for their sick children and also to pray for their houses, which was an honor. It was getting late so we had to make our way back down to the bus. It would have been nice to stay longer but the mountains are quite unsafe for foreigners(due to terrorists that hide up there) so we returned to the foothills and then back to Visag. We hope to make another trip before we leave here later this week.

The Wedding
Sunil (Donna's husband) had a friend who happened to be getting married on Friday night last week. Weddings in India are a very big deal with lots of food and noise and bright lights. Even though we didn't know the bride or the groom, we crashed the pre-ceremony party and took in a bit of the culture. We were accepted and treated like celebrities. It wasn't long before we were on the platform beside the happy couple being photographed by everyone there with a camera. Imagine a movie star showed up uninvited at your wedding. That was our reception. This was fine with us. The actual wedding ceremony started at 1:30AM. Only family members were invited. Even the movie stars had to leave. No worries, though. It was worth it for the time that we were there.

A Word on Begging
Time is short and we need to be off, but first an observation about begging in the places we have visited thus far. In Australia there were bums who sat on the sidewalks with a sign asking for help. There was no pressure to give money or even to say anything to the guy sitting there. Helping was suggested.
Then we were in Thailand and the beggars were nowhere to be seen. I imagine the government had done something to get rid of them. Or maybe they are just too polite to beg in Thailand.
In Sri Lanka, they were all about making their needs known. There was no conversation or anything. One lady walked up to me and said very forcefully, "Money!" Ah, yes, my sweet lady, it is a great thing, isn't it? I wish I had a bit more myself. "Money!" No, no money for you. If I hook you up, all those other guys over there will want some flow too. Sorry, but not today. She realized she wasn't getting anywhere and at the same time I pointed out some other rich-looking tourists to her in hopes that they would have what I didn't have to spare. That was that.
Now we're in India and here the theme is strength in numbers. Once you step out of your car and positively identified as a white person, the mob heads your way and demands money. No asking here, folks. In fact, they are so professional here that if you give them one rupee, they will be insulted and demand more. I didn't see that coming. I didn't know there was a going rate for beggars. The trouble is there are so many beggars that you could never keep them all happy. To say no to them means that they need to try harder or to physically convince you that they really need you to give them some rupees. This can cause some discomfort. The only way to get away from the beggars is if a local shoos them off or if you duck inside a store or a museum or something. Beggars are a fact of life.

We don't anticipate beggars in the UAE or Scotland but should we come across any we'll be sure to see how they compare to their counterparts here.

Now we're definately out of time. More to come.

E