Happy Birthday, Abby.

Today is a special day for us.  It's Abby's 21st birthday.  We couldn't be prouder--she's been a blessing to our family for two decades.

And I haven't written about our adventures in Dhaka for several months, since our trip to Sri Lanka last spring.

The Blue Mosque

Actually, we have had a few out-of-Dhaka experiences since I last wrote, also.

We made it through the end of the school year with Abby flying over, then going with Gail and Millie to Thailand for a few days before we all headed to Istanbul (old stuff, markets, whirling dervishes) and Athens (more old stuff, more markets, great food) on the way to STL, where we had several more adventures--Phoenix, Sedona and various points in between, Cardinals games, college visits, moving Abby into a house in Kirksville...

When we returned to Missouri, however, we found that my mother was in failing health.  She died within a few days of our arrival.  Today, November 16, would have been her 90th birthday.  Jenny Rose had lived a full life and did a lot of good in the world, more than most people I know.  I wrote a few pages about Mom, which you can read by clicking on her name.

It has been a strange year here in Dhaka.  Our school is in the midst of a "modernisation program" which has caused a lot of stress in a variety of ways.  A big part of the whole project was to replace the cafeteria and theater.  In the meantime, Gail has directed an adaptation of Ovid's Metamorphoses in the swimming pool and is using a rooftop gym for Check, Please (28 kids coming over for the cast party) which will open next week.

The foyer

The Cambodia Room was my ManCave, but is now Millie's study hall.

Living Room/Dining Room

Meanwhile, Millie is gearing up for the basketball season.  The Lady Tigers won the other international school's tournament last week and will host a local tournament next weekend, then host the conference tournament in December--I'll send the link for the live-stream.  And Millie has been accepted at University of Missouri; she was the first kid in this senior class to receive an acceptance letter.

And I have almost completely recovered from cracking a bone in my arm when I fell into a ditch.  I thought you'd like a few pictures of our apartment and the streets of Baridhara, our neighborhood.

From our side porch

Teak cabinet with Balinese Dancers

Our front porch

Sweeping up on UN Road

Park Road Delivery Man

Spring Break to Sri Lanka

Fishing the surf 

The Cantaloup Aqua View Hotel

Dhaka being Dhaka, it was time to get out of town.  Spring Break came along and we were able to leave the humid 100 plus degree weather and the local confusion for the much more scenic, breezy humid 100 plus degree weather and happier confusion of Sri Lanka.  Since we had not been there, it seemed like a good place to go.  We traveled with another family—Millie’s close friend, Katie, and her parents (our friends), both of whom work at the American Embassy.  The girls had a room to themselves and we got to have happy hour in air-conditioned comfort next to the Indian Ocean. 

Sri Lanka is a three-hour flight away, but the ride from the airport to the southern beaches takes another three hours.  The Cantaloupe Aqua Beach hotel is right on the beach that was destroyed by the Christmas Day 2004 tsunami.  The area still shows signs of the destruction, but they are re-building and several other resorts were open. I had read that the tsunami had convinced everyone to build a little inland; apparently, our guys forgot.  The Cantaloupe is so much right on the beach that getting off the steps to the sand at high tide was pretty darn scary.

The Turtle Nursery

But once we got to it, we could walk the empty beach for miles while the perfectly blue and green Indian Ocean, with nothing to obstruct its tides from Antarctica to 6 degrees north of the equator, raged at our feet.  Sea turtles frequent this beach, but we didn’t see any, of course, because they lay their eggs in the sand at night.  This is not always a successful experience, but the locals are trying to help.  About a mile down the beach from the Cantaloupe was a turtle orphanage, nursery and hospital that takes in ailing and wounded adult turtles and kept buried eggs and babies alive until they could swim off on their own. 

And we took a day trip into the nearest big town, Galle, which has a touristy fort area that originated with the Dutch, or maybe it was the Portuguese, in the 1500s.  So we went there and had lunch, walked around the walls and found, among other oddities, a snake charmer with a cobra in a basket. He let a big snake wrap itself around Katie’s mom so we could get a few pictures.

The Snake Charmer

Besides lying around next to the ocean and the bar, we also got in a trip on a little boat to see the largest animals to ever live on Earth, Blue whales.  In 2006, someone discovered that the area just off the southern coast of Sri Lanka was in the migratory path of these gentle monsters from January to April, and a new tourism industry was born.  We saw six of the giant beasts (or the same one six times); the closest we got was to one who coasted along 70 yards or so beside our boat. The whale graced us with his eye, mouth, spout, dorsal fin and tail before he dived out of sight.  He was at least three times longer than our boat and could have easily capsized us if he had come up under us.  Then it was back to the beach, the pool and happy hour. 

Diving Blue Whale

Another one, or maybe the same one

The Queen's Hotel

You can only spend so much time in a tropical paradise before you have to move.  So we headed up country to Kandy, a temple city and former capital.  This time we stayed in the 19^th century Queen’s Hotel, across from a lake and across the street from the Temple of the Sacred Tooth.  The hotel has been only slightly upgraded (with a polished brass accordion door elevator, and maybe the original red carpet in the hallways) since it was built, but has an interesting bar and restaurant, a pool full of blossoms from the surrounding trees, and occasional hot water.  Since New Years was approaching in Sri Lanka (and Bangladesh—hence an extra day of vacation for us), everybody had come to town to buy new clothes and fireworks.  Consequently, the sidewalks and shops were full of people.  Millie and Katie could not even get into the Fashion Bug store next to hotel.

Here's looking at you, kid

On the way to Kandy, we had stopped at Pinnawala Elephant Orphanage, a government run rescue and rehabilitation center for pachyderms near a rock-strewn river.  Tourist shops and hotels have been built along the lane that the elephants use to get down to the river every day at 2:00 PM for their bathing.  We got there just in time to follow them down the street—watch your step—and catch the action.  Then it was on to Kandy.

The main temple here in Kandy was built around a tooth of Buddha that miraculously survived his cremation in India 2600 years ago.  The tooth traveled from one king to another until a queen spirited it out of India in her hair and brought it to Kandy.  The Buddhists built a temple complex, and people queue up with their children to pray before the relic.  (We saw similar relics in Europe, too; John the Baptist apparently had plenty of fingers, because lots of cathedrals there have one.)  

Monks with Parasols at the Temple of the Saxred Tooth

Offerings in the temple

The Temple of the Sacred Tooth

  

Kandyan Dance

Kandy has traditional folk dancing similar to Bali, so we got tickets and walked part of the way around the lake to see a performance.  It was all somewhat predictable until they brought out the bed of burning coals and the fire dancers showed up.  These two guys lit torches, then rubbed them across their arms and into their mouths, and walked across the coals. And then they put the torches in their mouths while they walked across the coals. 

Eating fire

After Katie and her parents left for Dhaka (embassy people don’t get New Years off), the three of us booked a day trip to a Hindu temple, a Buddhist monastery, and a Buddhist temple built into caves near the top of a mountain.  Millie and I survived the sweaty 200-step climb to the caves while Gail, ever wise, enjoyed the museum next to the parking lot. 

Reclining Buddha in a Cave

Hindu Temple at Matale

Our final day was spent seeing a couple more temples and then riding three hours to a hotel near the airport.  The roads and vehicles in Sri Lanka are in much better shape than India or Bangladesh (similar to Bali, though not as good as Malaysia or Thailand), but the experience is about the same.  We would speed up on the two lane blacktop road to just behind one slow-moving tuck-tuck (a three wheeled vehicle common to the subcontinent), bus or motor scooter, jam on the brakes until it was barely safe to pass, then speed up again to the next one.  Gail says she no longer has the need for a road trip. 

He's everywhere

The best part of the driving adventure was travelling on Sri Lanka’s only limited access interstate highway, between Colombo and Galle.  This highway resembles I-55 south of St. Louis, with wide swaths cut through hills and access ramps, truck stops, rest areas and police cars with radar guns.  Only here we saw forests of coconut trees, water buffalo in rice paddies and pineapple plantations.  Building this highway in Sri Lanka was a major engineering achievement, given that the island seems to be mostly Asian granite, not Missouri limestone. 

On the whole, Sri Lanka has a happy vibe and the beaches might necessitate another trip.   The weather is tropically hot and humid, but there was always a breeze.  The mountains are green and rocky, the flat areas cultivated and the forests full of fruits and nuts.  And there are temples everywhere. 

And just when we thought Dhaka couldn’t get any weirder, we got home to find a chirping gecko strolling through the dining room, apparently answering something on Game of Thrones.  If he eats enough cockroaches, we’ll have to come up with a name.

There he is again

Buddhist Temple on this side

Hindu Temple on this side

Crocodile at Kandy Lake

More fire

The Wood Family with elephants

On the coals

February of 1952, and of 2013

Building an apartment building on Road 3

The Sunny Side

The Shady Side

Walking the Family Dogs

A Convoy of Cement Trucks

I thought you all would appreciate a little update on our working life here in the Delta.  Fortunately, all those college degrees keep me from having to carry anything on my head.

We have had spectacular weather lately, breezy and in the 70s.  Gail has gone with students on a Mekong Delta tour in Cambodia, and Millie is with a similar group, washing elephants in Thailand.  Last week her IB seniors held their productions--each kid has to write, direct and produce an original theatrical performance. We got to see some good stuff.  And the week before that we took twenty kids to a theater festival in Bombay.

I wanted to let you know everything is fine, although there have been a number of demonstrations lately, and we understand Bangladesh is getting some international press.  Here what is happening locally.

East Pakistan was always a problem, and in 1952, when West Pakistan declared Urdu, a Hindu/Arabic dialect common on the western sub-continent, to be the official language, people here demonstrated for their own language, Bangla (or, just across the border in Calcutta, West Bengal, Bengali).  Five university students were killed by the Pakistani army during a peaceful protest.  The world's first language martyrs were celebrated again this past weekend.

In 1971, people here declared independence.  The Pakistani army, in responding to the revolt, committed a number of atrocities.  They eventually sought the assistance of Jamaat Islam, a local Islamist party, who carried out systematic rapes and murders.  Finally, India sent in an army, the war ended, Pakistan and India left.  Most of Jamaat Islam stayed.

Over the years Jamaat's leaders have managed to play one party off against the other so as to avoid war crimes trials.  They are currently aligned with the BNP, the out-of-power party who usually calls the hartals or strikes.  But they have also been aligned with the Awali League, the in-power party.  

Finally, after 40+ years, the trials are happening now.  The trials are continuing, and some have been convicted, including one of their leaders currently hiding in Pakistan.  Jamaat, without arguing the veracity of the verdicts, has been attacking police, threatening to begin a civil war and vandalizing public places.

Meanwhile, totally separate from the political parties and the violence, a new grassroots movement, led by bloggers, has emerged.  They are rejecting any connection to either political group, but are calling for the death penalty for those convicted.  One of their founding bloggers was recently murdered, and these grassroots Shahbagh demonstrations (named for a downtown intersection) are getting larger and stronger, but have stayed peaceful.  People my age, who have lived here a long time, tell me this is a historic moment, that the spirit of '71 and '52 is being revived now.

I'll keep you posted.  

Fall 2012--Winter 2013

Bali: Just Weird Enough

Gamlan Musicians

At the Culture Center

Life in the Slow Lane: The Subcontinent

Fall 2012 into Winter 2013

Yes I know…you thought we must have fallen off the Earth.  Well, we haven’t, but we have been busy here in the Delta. 

School is mostly what we do between vacations.

During the first six weeks of the school year, Gail produced a children’s play (the US Ambassador loved it), Millie set school records in swimming, and I looked after the new teachers and kids at AISD.  Also, Millie went to Chennai (India) for the South Asia International School Association (SAISA) swim meet and Gail went to a theater workshop in Bangalore (also in India). 

The Romance of Travel (Part One)

Usually in Asia, you tell and show the taxi driver where you are going, you get there.  Assuming Krabi, Thailand, was like everywhere else, I didn’t call ahead. 

In Krabi, there were no taxis.  When I went back into the airport, my phone could not connect to the hotel.  So we paid 150 Thai baht ($5.00) to ride on a bus for about half an hour until we arrived at a seaside restaurant with a ticket booth in the parking lot.  That’s where you buy the ($3) “boat” ticket. 

It was mid-afternoon, sunny and warm.  Exactly what you would expect on a tropical beach. 

The “boat” was a long tail boat anchored about 200 yards away.  While those high tides of Hurricane Sandy were hitting NY, this place was having way low tide.  The beach, a mile across, exposed a ribbon of sand at high tide, but that was a small portion compared to the expanse of mud and broken coral between us and the boat. 

We considered our options, bought our tickets, changed clothes and began the trek across the mud and rock.  Every step created a slurping sound, and Millie carried her suitcase on her head, Bangladeshi-style.  By the time she got to the boat, she was in waist-deep water.  Eventually, there were a dozen people and their luggage, mostly tourists but a local family, too.  We were dropped off in knee-deep water, about 20 yards from a nice beach with several hotels.  Ours was the last one on the beach, a great view from the pool and bar, a decent breakfast and terrific gardens and paths. 

So we had a great time, getting sunburns around the pool, and walking to the little row of shops and back several times a day, and admiring the sunsets.  The three of us did a day of snorkeling and boating around Phi Phi Island.  Millie and I kayaked for a couple hours around the cup cake shaped islands that appear to jump up out of the water.  And Gail noticed other guys my age checking in with their Asian daughters, too. 

Then we came back to Dhaka…Gail directed her second play, Fools, a Neil Simon comedy (the Ambassador loved this one so much he spoke to each cast member), Millie led the Lady Tigers to a 2^nd place finish in the SAISA girls basketball tournament, held at AISD, and Gail and I cheered.  And we prepared for the next vacation: with Abby in Bali.

The Romance of Travel (Part Two)

Bali is the first major island east of Java in the Indonesian Archipelago, about 8 degrees south of the equator and a million miles from anything remotely like Missouri.  Several hundred years ago Indians migrated here, so Bali is Hindu in religion and architecture, Polynesian in climate and vegetation, and, with its proximity to Australia, hard-partying in temperament. 

The Indian migration gave the island a shot of art, dance, music, architecture that has made the place unique in the Muslim world around it.  And it is curious: carved stone statues protecting bridges, and little offerings of flowers, fruit and a stick of incense, placed in prayer on the ground in front of even the tiniest shrine.  

We managed to have a good time.  We started in an ageing but colorful, beachfront resort at Sanor, saw the temple at Ulu Watu perched on a cliff above the sea, hit a couple malls and got sunburned at the pool.  The local beer, Bintang, was cold, taxis cheap and the restaurants reliable: what more could you ask for? 

Sunshine, maybe.  We ended, in the rain, in a new, swank resort on the strip in Kuta.  Kuta resembles some of Daytona Beach: Aussie kids come here for tattoos. 

In between, we enjoyed Ubud, the “cultural capital”, (sort of like Branson MO, without the confederate flag bikinis for sale on the sidewalks), with loads of artisans, shops, temples, lily ponds, rice terraces and a Starbucks.  

And we spent a few lazy days in Amed, where the girls got in eight SCUBA dives, two around and through shipwrecks.   We never saw a really nice beach, but we got tanned, read books and had more than a few Bintangs.  And we watched the New Year's Eve fireworks among the coconuts trees and the sea.  

The most memorable event of the whole may have been the rat-sized gecko that inhabited our villa’s rafters in Ubud, pooping daily into a couple square feet of the floor near Gail’s suitcase. 

And of course we brought back tons of stuff.  Gail added five masks to the foyer “mask room” and I added a blowgun to the armament corner; Millie and Abby got shoes and shirts and a dress or two.   And Abby was able to spend a few days in Dhaka before heading back to the USA. 

Our friend, Sabrina, arrived from India the day before Abby left.  Sabrina, a Woodstock dorm parent, had dressed Abby and five of her friends plus Gail) in their silk saris for Commencement.  (No easy task—she started at 7:00 AM and finished just in time for the photo session at 9:00.)  So we got to show her sunny Dhaka and a little of AISD before she headed off to Nepal for the non-tropical part of her trip. 

Abby and her college friends are renting a house in Kirksville MO.  Millie played a four-mallet xylophone piece for the elementary school assembly, and Gail is the executive producer of the IB students’ productions.  She and I will chaperone twenty kids on an International Schools Theater Association trip to Mumbai in early February.  In late February Gail takes 20 or so kids on a “Discovery Week” trip up the Mekong in Cambodia.  Millie goes to Chang Mai Thailand to see villages and wash elephants.  And I am still living the dream here in Dhaka…360 little kids treat me like I’m a rock star. 

Next family vacation, in early April, looks like Sri Lanka or Nepal.  

Dancin' in Bali

Cleansing the soul

Ubud, Bali Barong Dance

The Beach at Sanor, Bali

Our hotel in Amed