Saturday, July 24th - City Tour/Rest Day

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order. Background: This day did not, in fact, involve much resting. But it did involve some relaxation. Read on.)

We didn't have anything particular planned for Saturday-- Jo stayed back to rest, and the rest of us loaded onto the bus for an informal tour of Bangalore. Raj's kids, Nica and Sammy, were going to join us for our adventures that day, and it was fun to have them along too. We agreed that most of us wanted to visit a Hindu temple, and while we were also interested in seeing the tech area of the city (Bangalore is the IT center of India), it turned out to be too far away to be convenient.

So our first stop was a temple. One of the guys later said that temples normally don't allow people to just come in to see, so it was somewhat unusual that this one did ok it. The priest (if that's what they're called, I don't recall their titles) even said it was ok to take a couple of snapshots, when someone asked about it. It was an interesting experience. There are so many different Hindu gods (like, really-- 330 million, give or take a few) and each has different specialties and different offerings to be bought or brought, different services or ceremonies that can be performed at the temple for a fee-- I cannot imagine how anyone would ever keep track. It is so comforting to know that we can have a personal relationship with the one God, and don't even have to keep track of which elaborate hoops we need to jump through to get things from him. He already gives us what we need.

After we left the temple, we went to a store where we could buy gifts and souvenirs. Raj initially said "15 minutes" and then we'd go to the next stop, but apparently the rest of the group was on "Indian time," because people shopped for much longer than that. After going through the entire store, I checked out with a couple small purchases and found myself the first one done. I waited outside with Reuben, Raj & Sammy for quite some time before the others came out, as well. From there we hit up a small grocery store so people could buy tea, spices, and any other snacks or items they wanted for the week & to take home with them. (I got me a good-sized package of coriander... and you all know-- or should-- how I feel about coriander!)

And from there... Hard Rock Bengaluru!* We were all excited for some American food-- not least of all me, who was eager for a solid meal (I'd begged James that morning, practically in tears, to make sure that wherever we ate out in the city, it'd be someplace where a solid vegetarian meal could be had-- who knew it'd actually be so hard to eat in India?), and Karrie, since it was her birthday and she got to have nachos (though she did claim they tasted a bit like curry). (On the way in, we even got to witness a few police officers trying to shake down the guys for money-- when Raj told them no, they apparently didn't want to press the issue in front of a bunch of Americans.) We also got to see Karrie's birthday celebrated, Indian-style. Definitely my favorite moment of the day.

*Bengaluru is the Indian name for Bangalore-- kind of like Mumbai vs. Bombay. But... I never did actually hear an Indian refer to it as Bengaluru, though it is on some of the signs and whatnot.

Friday, July 23rd - Baptism Celebration

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

On Friday we traveled out to the Good Shepherd Community Church in a rural village called Chellur. This community has a lot of gypsies, who from what I've heard/read, are not much accepted here, as anywhere else. It was a long drive, involving bumpy roads and a long ways between our breakfast stop and the next toilet (I was happy to hear that there was indeed a squat toilet at the church, since James had initially said something about squatting in a field), and the trip got started late due to an issue with one of the vehicles and needing to find another to use-- one of the staff said that every time they have a baptism, there is some kind of disturbance-- Satan does not want to see this happen (and, interestingly, many of us did later have camera issues, including me-- full memory cards, dead batteries-- including me having a battery die, and then the fresh one I put in quickly running out as well. Still, where two or three are gathered... we have plenty of pictures and stories to share this joyful day with people back home).


It was about the longest service I've ever been in, though-- we were once again among the honored guests seated at the front of church and draped in garlands, but only parts of the service were in (or translated into) English, so it was hard to follow more than the spirit of much of the service. In the end, though (well, service-wise, in the middle) 32 new believers were baptized in a tank set into the ground in the church courtyard-- young men and women, and those so old they climbed the stairs out of the tank with aid of a cane and many supporting hands-- including one old woman who was very fearful of the water. What a powerful thing baptism must be in a place where you might have gone your entire life without ever being underwater!

After the service wrapped up, we once again had some time to visit with the people there-- pretty much none of the church members spoke English, but just squeezing hands, hugging, and taking pictures together was enough for us all to convey (hopefully) how special the other's presence was.

(There are tons more pictures I could share from this event-- and many of the other people in our group got more portraits of some of the people getting baptized that day, or participating in the celebration. You can see a few great shots at Brad's website, www.blivengood.com, under the "India" folder.)

Thursday, July 22nd - Tarika Women's Centre, Day 2

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

On Thursday we went back to the women's centre, eagerly and with much joy in our hearts. The women were going to be in their normal class sessions (three 1 1/2-hour "batches," as they called them), and we had the opportunity to participate with them and to also lead some parts of the classes.

We took turns enacting (and then having the students repeat back) some basic conversation scenarios that Megan wrote up beforehand, for the spoken English classes. Angela and Kaitlyn went around together to the different classes, Angela speaking a bit about arthritis and joint problems (how they are caused and how to help prevent/treat them), and Kaitlyn demonstrating some yoga poses and explaining the benefits of stretching exercises. (I got to witness their first presentation, to a spoken English class, and it went over great-- once the floodgates were open, almost all the women wanted to try the poses and have Kaitlyn help them with them. Me-- my salwar pants were a bit too tight to do them well!) Otherwise, people just went around to the different classes and observed or participated-- I know Jo tried her hand at embroidery, and Brad had a question-and-answer time with a computer class during a power outage.

As soon as the first session ended, Karrie and I were enlisted to apply mehndi designs to the women's hands before they left for the day. (We'd picked up henna during our shopping trip with Sheba & Tabitha the afternoon before.) I have to say that our first attempts were somewhat less than noteworthy (well, and so were my second, and third... Karrie gave up after one) but the girls were very gracious. As one of the staff members told us as we were starting off, "they love you, so they will love whatever you do." One woman toward the end of the day, Banu, even asked me to write my name ("in your language," she made sure to specify) on her wrist (she did remember my name then). Another teenage girl brought out a small memo pad and asked for my "autograph" to show her friends (she then got Karrie's and Megan's as well). It's a little strange to feel like such a celebrity, when all you did was show up. We ended up doing mehndi with each group of women as they finished their classes for the day (and of course some of them put their much greater skills to good use on our hands, as well).

It was really wonderful to be able to sit and talk with the women and girls, as girlfriends (by the end of the day we'd given up on chairs, and were all sprawled out all over the floor)-- turns out we're pretty much the same, despite our different languages or accents, different styles of dress (though, not so different that day), different countries and cultures. They still love their children, and have dreams for their future, and the younger girls were absolutely an inspiration. For instance, Kavya, at 17, is paying for her own tuition. She doesn't want to rely on anyone else or take their money. She wants to become a banker, and plans to get married only "after 10 years." We told the girls that American girls could definitely learn some things from them. They taught us a few phrases in Tamil, and after much giggling answered Karrie's inquiries as to how to use the toilet in a sari (just hike it up), and they all asked when we were coming back. We all wished we could say "tomorrow" or "next week," and truly I made friends I will not soon forget.

Another part of our second day at the women's centre was to start doing some video interviews. The plan is to edit together a video to show the church leadership, so they can see the amazing and life-altering work occurring over there. We interviewed 3 of the students-- Kattie and I did one of these interviews, and even though we'd already sat down with our interviewee beforehand and heard her story, we were both struggling to keep from tears during the interview itself. (Again, I won't share the details of her personal story here, but it is a powerful and heartbreaking tale of struggle and resiliency.)

After the interview, James (who had been videotaping the interview) left the room, and Karrie, the woman we interviewed, Josie (who translated) and I all prayed together. When we were getting ready to leave the room, Karrie apologized to Josie for crying, saying that she knew our tears didn't help the woman, who'd already been crying during the interview-- to which Josie replied something to the effect that it was ok, and that was what women did together (share and cry and support each other), and it showed her that we cared. And I thought of how true that was-- more than once during this trip already we ladies had been gathered around one bed or another, supporting and praying over whoever may have been struggling at that particular moment-- and I shared that with Josie, too. It is interesting and touching to see how much more we are all the same, than different.

It was very hard to say good-bye to the Tarika centre and all the women & men there at the end of the day, and they will all be much in my prayers.

Wednesday, July 21st - Tarika Women's Centre, Day 1

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order.)

On Wednesday we visited the Tarika Women's Centre, which is in Bangalore, maybe a half-hour drive from the OM campus. There were many women gathered in the main rooms, sitting in groups on the floor and talking excitedly amongst each other when we came in. It was instantly a spirit of joy in that place.

When we gathered with the centre staff for devotions and to learn more about the program, we learned that normally they would have class sessions throughout the day, but that today was a special day. Instead of their normal classes, all of the women had come in the morning and had divided up into groups, which were coming up with things to perform in a show before lunch. (We were later told that the women had all worn their best outfits, and that the lunch they all later ate was probably the best meal most of them had ever eaten-- although it appeared quite simple to us, and we had the same thing plus more dishes. And yes, I did feel really quite weird about eating a different meal from the women, seated in chairs in the next room. But we did first get to serve the women, bringing each a paper plate full of the food to where they sat in crowded rows on the floor.)

We also heard from the woman who runs the program a bit about some of the women's stories. In addition to the computer, spoken English, and tailoring/embroidery classes, the centre also has a room where up to 4 women can stay. Two women were currently living there, in addition to one of the teachers. (I'm not going to share the details of their stories here, but let's just say, they would make you cry. No, really.) It was amazing to hear what these women had been through-- and these were not the only examples, or some sort of rare extreme scenario, they just happened to be the two cases currently at hand.

We then moved into the main room, where the women put on all sorts of acts-- dancing, singing, skits. Even without translation at some times, the messages and spirit of their performances were clear. (And the skit that the staff put on, besides being popular with the students, was about the funniest thing I can imagine being put together in a morning-- if they followed the same timeframe that the students had put together their acts, anyway. I about died laughing.) We contributed a rousing rendition of "Father Abraham," and got them to stand up and participate, a second time through-- though I think they were more entertained by the initial experience of just watching all of us dance around.

After lunch, we spent some more time with the centre staff, and then two of them took several of us to a store to shop for saris. Angela, Kaitlyn and I picked some out, and the women at the centre are going to make the tops (they call them blouses) for the saris for us, based on our measurements (which they took the next morning, in inches, interestingly enough). The sari-shopping outing also ended in our first (and, it turned out, only on this trip) ride in "autos" (the 3-wheeled rickshaws that are all over)! Four of us packed into each one. Sheba told the driver to go slow, but as I was not on the outside half hanging out, I wouldn't have minded if he kept up his normal speed and maneuvering-- it was fun!

By the time we got back to campus at dinner time, we were all looking forward to the opportunity to return to the women's centre the following day.

Tuesday, July 20 - Headed to Bangalore

(Note: read the previous posts, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order. Background: The first half of this day's entry-- as well as catching up on previous journaling-- was written while on the plane to Bangalore. The second part was written after the fact, later in the week.)


When we woke up this morning, I felt fine, and was one of the few ready in time to meet up in the lobby at 5:15am. However, we loaded into a tiny van, and on the way to the airport-- crammed into the back corner, battling between stifling humidity, and the rain and city smells that entered when I cracked the window next to me-- I started to feel really unwell, dizzy and nauseous. While in the airport waiting for James and Angela to start our check-in, I had to go sit down, and was plied by the others with bottled water and comforting words.

It turned out our flight was canceled, so we headed to head to another airline to try and get on the earlier 6:35am flight. Not only was this a lot of shuffling around trying to get things straightened out (my teammates kept me strengthened with goldfish crackers and carried my backpack-- what a great bunch of people!) but it meant we wouldn't have time to pick up food anywhere before we boarded (our original flight was not till 7:10am), and I'd been greatly anticipating donuts from Coffee Day-- figuring that a lot of the reason I wasn't feeling well had to do with the fact that I hadn't eaten more than a granola bar (and, now, a few goldfish) since lunch yesterday-- we hadn't stopped for dinner (both due to time, and no longer really trusting our bags to be left with the van attendant), and though the hotel had offered to get us food the previous night, we'd all been too tired at that point to bother.

The airline staff got us rushed in, even helping us cut in line at the security screening point, and scurried us off to our gate just in time for boarding (we later discussed how much more helpful they'd been, than would be expected if in the same situation in the U.S.) We had to take a bus to our plane, and I was hoping it wouldn't turn out to be a tiny puddle-jumper. I was assigned to seat D, which I guessed wouldn't be an aisle seat unless we were 6-across, and in my current state I wanted to be as near an aisle as possible, lest any turbulence cause me to vomit on my neighbor.

So we boarded the plane... and it quickly dawned on Kaitlyn & I that there were 6 rows in First Class. We were both assigned to row 5. (!!!!!!) Brad joined us, and I realized we were the last 3 to get boarding passes, and thus were bumped up to the only seats still available. The seat next to me, and 3 in the row behind were empty, so I got Brad to ask if anyone in our group would be able to come join us, but were told (very nicely, after at least pretending to go consult with someone) that it couldn't happen.

So I have spent the past couple hours in absolute luxury. Sometimes, God really knows what you need. I thought I needed some time and a donut, but he gave me a footrest (for my now-enormous ankles) and a breakfast served in courses (with real dishes, no tinfoil, and-- count 'em-- six utensils wrapped in the cloth napkin and tied with the little navy-blue rope), instead. Thanks, God. I should know you've always got my back. Today, you knew far better than I did, what I needed.

I've never not wanted a plane ride to end, before, but I could stay in the seat for hours, being attended to by polite, genteel flight attendants bearing tea cups and hot towels. I haven't slept in First Class yet, or explored the options on the pop-up screen tucked away in my left armrest. Yet I got out of it what I needed, more than enough in fact, and now feel 100 times better, and ready to embark on the real body of our trip, here in Bangalore and elsewhere in the south.

Even as I write this, we are on our final descent-- the countryside is beautiful, red earth, green grass, lots of trees (many planted in rows, like a tree plantation) and sandy-colored watery patches here and there-- and the little plane icon on the drop-down screen is almost over the word "Bangalore." No one's come through to make me put my seat-back up or my foot-rest down, but I'm going to put my journal away now-- I feel the landing gear coming down-- and watch the beginning of the trip rise up to meet me.

Tuesday, July 20, cont. - Welcome to Bangalore

Arriving in Bangalore was an almost instantly different experience than being in Delhi. From the minute Raj picked us up at the airport, I felt definitely more under control-- in the sense of feeling safe and like someone knowledgeable and trustworthy was taking care over us. This feeling continued when we arrived on base (driving through a swarm of uniformed and utterly adorable schoolchildren from the on-campus Good Shepherd School) and with all the other OM staff we met that day.

After getting out things into our rooms, we had a gathering with the OM staff. They had a big banner with (almost) all of our names, welcoming us, and were very hospitable and appreciative of our arrival. We sang a couple of songs together, and we were each introduced (and draped in beautiful flower leis) and had a chance to say a few words. After that, we met with just some of the leadership staff and went over our itinerary for the week, about which we were all very excited.

Then... shopping! Two of the women, Bindu and Marina, went with us women and helped us show (and negotiate) for salwars and other items we'd wanted to buy while here. (I'm still not entirely sure what the guys managed to do during all of this time, since they did not appear to come back with any purchases. I think Brad took a lot of pictures, of course.)

(The picture at right is us with the sales guy from one store where we'd spent so long deciding and negotiating, we need a picture with him before we finally departed.)

Monday, July 19 - Delhi & Agra

(Note: read the previous post, below, if you want to hear about the trip in chronological order. Background: We had exactly 24 hours from when we flew in to Delhi, to when were scheduled to fly to Bangalore, in which to drive 5+ hours each way to see the Taj Mahal in Agra.)

Early Monday morning, we arrived... in India! The humidity was instantly noticeable, but wasn't intolerable (it was only a bit after 8am when we got outside of the airport) and actually seemed nicely familiar to this Midwesterner. (Stay tuned... my take on that will be changing shortly.)

After connecting with our driver, we all clambered into the van that would take us on the 5-hour trip to Agra & the Taj Mahal. Before even leaving the airport, it was clear we were a curiosity, and people had no qualms about staring openly. This made me most uncomfortable on the drive, when some of those driving alongside and openly gaping probably should have kept their eyes on the road.

While walking out to the van, I learned the first thing about traffic in India: pedestrians do not necessarily have the right-of-way. I guessed on this one, rather than actually testing it out and getting potentially run over. The second thing about traffic in India, I learned once we hit the road: that lanes (and sometimes even directional sides of the road) are more of "suggestions." I've never seen anything like the traffic we wove through that morning-- commercial trucks, 3-wheeled open, motorized rickshaws, personal vehicles (though not so big as in the U.S.-- we passed by a Honda Accord and it looked enormous), tourist and public buses, and more motorbikes than could be counted (bearing everything from businessmen and students on the way to start their days, to women sitting side-saddle behind the driver, calmly rummaging through their bags or fixing their hair, to babes in arms and small children crouched on the footrest)-- all weaving together in a crazy, slow-moving progression of humanity down the road. I sometimes feared for other people' lives, though never our own (good driver!), and we only got rear-ended once.

There was a lot to see other than the traffic, as well-- people waiting in crowds for public buses, children playing outside of tarp tents by the side of the road, western ads over crumbling architecture, rural farming fields with men herding cattle and women piling huge bundles of grasses atop their heads, men and children sleeping in the median.

But that's not the only thing in the median-- that's where I saw my first Indian cow! Many more followed-- resting or standing in the median, by the side of the road, in yards or fields-- and, occasionally, standing or laying in the actual road itself. A few were chained in yards or attended by someone, but most appeared to be just hangin' out. Of course, here I must include the other critters I saw that day: many a street dog, a number of horses, a few goats, a handful of donkeys (actually, it was one of these standing at the roadside leaving the airport that our first real Indian livestock experience), several camels, several kinds of birds that I wasn't familiar with, as we got closer to Agra, quite a few monkeys, and on the return trip-- peeking its head out from a concrete slab atop a heap of construction debris-- one big, brown rat. Oh, and the brown cobra the kid was snake-charming at the place we stopped for lunch (which was an experience in itself, with no one to help guide or translate for us-- it took us a while to convince the gentleman that some of us did want the veg-- not the non-veg-- thali, and we never really did figure out how much tip was expected). At another brief roadside stop, a couple of men brought their chained monkeys and placed them on the sides of the van, of course wanting money to take pictures.

Another lesson about India: "no" apparently is also taken as a suggestion, at least if you're an American (who is assumed to have money). It can get very uncomfortable when someone-- especially when that someone is a child-- persists and you have to keep saying no, or not respond at all and try to continue walking past them.

Honestly, by the time we stopped for lunch, our communication difficulties pushed me over the top and I was feeling a bit overwhelmed-- a bit surprisingly to myself, since I do pretty well in situations where I know to expect the unexpected, in general.

A couple hours later, we'd reached Agra and our tour guide (whom we hadn't known to expect) boarded the van and took charge. He'd already purchased the needed tickets to enter the Taj Mahal grounds, which included water and shoe covers for each of us, and had a game plan for the day: Taj Mahal, and then the Agra fort. He even gave us a detailed rundown of what we could or could not bring in with us-- an inclusion we appreciated after going through the screening line, and hearing another American traveler throwing a big of an ugly-American fit over some restricted item that she didn't want to have to bring all the way back to her vehicle. Speaking of which, getting to the actual Taj Mahal gates was an adventure, too-- our first experience of trying to dodge that crazy traffic to get across the street alive!

To go to the Taj Mahal, you first enter through an outer gate into a courtyard (one with monkeys traipsing about atop the buildings, of course). As we approached the East gate, which takes you down onto the lawns in front of the Taj Mahal itself, it was all I could do not to cry. What an amazing privilege, to be on the other side of the planet from home, getting to bear witness to one of the beautiful wonders of the world. We will-- and already had-- seen much that is hard, ugly, and saddening on this trip, and it was really nice to see such a spectacular display of human creativity, beauty and devotion.

Our guide was very organized and knowledgeable-- and did a good job of such details as making sure we knew the restrooms were free, lest entrepreneuring locals succeed in charging us for them (one western toilet and no t.p. = not worth a price, any way) and shooing off potential pick-pocketers and over-zealous people trying to take our picture to purchase, or sell us Taj Mahal snowglobe keychains-- and even though sometimes I felt a bit rushed and overwhelmed, I was glad that he was with us. He told us a lot about the design of the buildings, including about the symmetry & balance, and all the local & imported semiprecious inlaid stones that makes up the ornate detailing on the buildings (inside & out), and the optical illusions used to maintain the appearance of symmetry and balance from different vantage points. It was all very interesting, though what still really struck me most was just the pure stunning beauty of the place, from the glimmering Taj Mahal itself, to the ornate gate, matching mosque and guesthouse, and other structures on the ground, to the lush gardens filled with raucous parrots and pale, tree-climbing chipmunks (which our guide informed us that they call squirrels).

Inside the Taj Mahal itself, however, was crowded and very stuffy on the very humid day, and I had sweat literally pouring down my body before we had seen it all-- so stepping back out into the open air-- still humid, but cloudy and graced by an occasional light breeze-- was a great relief.

Perhaps the most amusing moments at the Taj Mahal were the people who wanted pictures with us-- not the poor beggar children who wanted us to pay to take their pictures, but the Indian adult visitors who wanted the novelty of being photographed with the Americans. While Karrie and I lounged at the edge of an outdoor corridor, waiting for the others in the group to conquer the squat toilets, a pair of men came up and took turns taking each other's picture in between us (planted directly in front of the "toilets" sign). Later after Angela, our third redhead, had joined us, we had a large group approach us and ask to take their picture with us. The women all squeezed in among us-- I think Brad got a picture of this group, too, so I hope it turned out (I have yet to see it). I felt like the costumed Disney princesses at Disneyworld, or a celebrity. We didn't feel uncomfortable with people who just wanted to take our pictures in that sense, though-- after all, we'd had a lot of Indian people in our pictures that day, as well.

After a brief but fun journey on the back of what was essentially a golf cart (racing down the street) back to our bus, an unsuccessful pass by the Agra fort (it was reportedly closed, which was ok since we were all tired and it had just started raining anyway-- and actually, I'd gotten some pictures of it on the way into the city, because it was a cool-looking building), a bit more history from our guide as we circled the fort in the rain (through which I was desperately trying to keep my eyes open-- the utter exhaustion having finally caught up to me, all of a sudden) a visit to a fascinating marble inlay shop where workmen pass down the family secrets of making beautiful marble and semi-precious stone inlay pieces, through the generations (one table we sat around reportedly takes 4 men, 4 months, working 8 hours a day, 6 days a week, to complete it), some tense moments over 100 missing rupees and-- more importantly-- the fact that the driver's assistant had been found rummaging through some peoples' bags-- we were finally heading back to Delhi.

We were all relieved that we were going to be able to get hotel rooms for the night, as we were all thoroughly hot, tired, and dirty. (Oh, but did I mention that both van rides were freezing cold? It the AC wasn't on-- and it was mighty efficient, even on "low"-- it poured water all over the driver's assistant, and dripped down over the driver as well. I spent both ways bundled in my blanket, and on the return trip, even with my sweatshirt, I was too cold to really be comfortable.) I dozed on the way back, but-- like one loud clunk on the way there, that I tried (unsuccessfully) to pretend no one had noticed-- my head jerked and banged hard on the window several times. (A couple days later, I had spots on my forehead that were still a bit sore.)

We got back to the hotel around a quarter after midnight, and after handing over our passports (yes, we weren't 100% certain we weren't about to be kidnapped, or our passports held for ransom, but were too tired & dirty to really care) we were shown-- up a marble staircase, I might add-- to our room. The room we 6 girls shared was pretty nice-- more so than we expected-- we had 2 large beds (helpful, since we put 3 people on one of them), a sofa and chairs around a glass coffee table, large mirror, efficient AC & ceiling fans (I actually woke up pretty cold the next morning), and the nicest bathroom we'd seen so far in India (really spacious, too-- could fit at least 4 of my apartment bathroom at home. Not that that's saying much). Um... the bedding was a little creepy, though, I will admit. A few more weird stains than I would prefer, plus some stray hairs, made me not quite as comfortable as I might have otherwise been. Still, after we all showered (which, let me tell you, made me feel like singing, lukewarm or no), we set the alarms for 4:45am (about 3 hours later, at that point), crawled into beds & couches, and got some rest. I must have slept, because I don't remember hearing the honking from the Delhi streets after that.

Sat., July 17 - Sun. July 18 - Traveling & Munich

(Note: The posts to come, starting with this one, answer the "What did you do in India?" question only. And even so, it's pretty basic... they are pretty much straight from the journal I kept while in India, just to remember everything, and we were so busy that I was usually a day or two behind in recording our adventures. The answers to questions like "How did it affect you?", "What did you learn?", "What were the biggest things that struck you from your experience?", etc., will come later once I am less jet-lagged than I still am right now.)


Background: We flew from Denver to Chicago to Munich, where we had an 8-hour layover, so we definitely wanted to get out of the city. That evening, we flew on to Delhi.


I liked Germany the instant I saw it: it is the shape of the land. (By which I mean it is not all laid out on a grid, like in the U.S., but appears to have grown up organically, lines following the lines of hills and rivers and trees.) And there are forests, and little clusters of red-roofed villages.


The traveling-- well, I'm not going to say it was good, exactly, but we survived it, and even slept some. (The free Bailey's on the post-Munich flight did help on that account.) I was really happy to be able to get out of the airport during our 8-hour layover in Munich (and, let me tell you, Germany sure does let you just waltz on in to the country). After a train-door mishap that had us temporarily separated from one of our group in downtown Munich, we finally all regrouped. It's amazing how much harder it is to all find each other again, when you don't have cell phones to communicate and coordinate.


We came up out into the square in front of the Glockenspiel, where some sort of gay pride event was occurring that day. (Our first clue that that's what the crowd was for, before we noticed any rainbow-colored flags, was the band belting out the oh-so-subtle lyrics: "I'm gay! I'm gay! I'm gay!") We wandered a few streets, enjoyed some German fare at a nearby restaurant, and checked out the ornate Glockenspiel more close-up. We were trying to go up in the tower, hoping for some good rooftop views of the city, but the mysterious life (to which both signs and individuals attempted to direct us) was not to be found. We did get to witness the 5 o'clock music-playing and figure-turning, however, before we had to hop back on the S8 train (making sure we all all made it through the doors, this time) to head back to the airport.


Next stop: India.