Hills....
After I last posted, from Tiruvinnamalai, we visited two more boarding home/school sites at which children are sponsored by individuals via LPGM. We were going to essentially wave at one of them as we passed because we were informed that there was an outbreak of "smallpox" there. However, when we stopped to say hello, we couldn't resist venturing in to the grounds so that members of our group could meet children sponsored by them or their congregations. And as it turns out, the illness was really "chicken pox," so we were not that concerned about exposure. We then went up into the Kalrayan Hills to visit schools there, including one in the tribal village of Alathy. In this area, the schools and other community development projects for LPGM (including an organic farm) are coordinated by a young couple - both pastors: Benjamin and Priscilla Sudhaker. Priscilla is the first woman pastor in the Arcot Lutheran Church. Our accommodations were, well, a bit primitive. My roomie for the night, Dale Woodrow, courageously pulled a chair into the bathroom before bedtime so he could read in there when he woke up during the night. I tried to spend a maximum of 5 minutes in there. I wasn't sure what critters I might meet. While at the farm, we got to drink coconut water - yes, right out of the coconut - and experienced jack fruit for the first time. All but Ruthie. Dear, poor Ruthie, who was having tummy issues. She was a real trooper. She doesn't eat spicy food much - and um, all I can say is: good luck with that in India! A couple others of us had brief bouts...We think it was from some water we had in the hills. But it quickly passed, if you'll pardon the expression.
Coastlines...
We went on to the coastal area of Cuddalore, where LPGM has its field office and where the 2004 tsunami took a huge toll. The physical damage is still visible. Then on to Pondiche
rry, which we LOVED! We were giddy as we checked into our beach resort. There were real, working toilets, Western showers (the Indian options for toilets and showering are almost always offered alongside), and a swimming pool. Cath, Kris, Ruthie, Jane, and I ventured into town to shop. Here's where I truly discovered that crossing the street in India is a real step of faith. I'm finding that once you start moving, you need to keep going. The Minnesota Nice "You go...No, you go...No, after you..." is a deadly approach.Click on the video to ride through the streets of Chennai...
Cities...
We flew to Delhi on Saturday and toured Old Delhi by rickshaws. I sincerely apologized to my driver for the weight issue, but he seemed non-plussed and cheerful. The tour of Delhi was kind of whirlwind... We passed Hindu, Jain, and Christian places of worship, and toured the largest mosque in India. We also passed by our first McDonalds (no beef though, only chicken or veg burgers). After a night in Delhi, we drove on to Agra to see the Taj Mahal and Agra Fort. The latter is actually more impressive in many ways than the former, but after looking a my photos, I realize now how special the Taj is. It is so "India" - with Hindu and Moslem characteristics - and is truly the apple of the country's eye.
Goodbyes...
We stayed at the fabulous, modern (almost futuristic) Trident hotel in Agra and had our "last supper," of sorts, which ended in side-splitting laughter when I insisted the entire group go to the lavish men's room, where "you pee on mirrors!" We crowded in - all 5 women and two men - and took photos. The next day, we returned to Delhi. I was dropped at a guesthouse/hotel for the night, and the group continued on to the airport for their flight home. The guest house operators looked a bit stunned when all of them filed in to use the restroom in my room. It gave us a chance to say a proper goodbye, outside the van. I am so thankful for this little group of wonderful people and for the whirlwind adventure we shared. Jane, with her teacher's inqu
isitive mind which kept the guides on their toes and elicited great amounts of info we'd otherwise never have obtained; Dale, with his dry sense of humor and his yellow Concordia cap which was often my guiding beacon; Mary (Mary Beth), his wife, ever-journaling and pondering all these things in her heart; Cath, pastor of Our Savior's Lutheran Church in Neenah, Wisconsin, who looks particulary stylish in the white paper booties you put over your shoes at the Taj; Kris, compassionate and passionate about children - so well-suited to her position ministering to them at Bethlehem on Lyndale; Gordy, our fearless leader and consultant on all things Indian; and Ruthie, Children's Ministries director at Cath's church, who has moxie and goes where angels (and wimpy travelers like me) fear to tred. She knows how to experience life to its fullest, and all this after having survived only recently a biking accident with a drunk driver which claimed her husband's life, injured her friend and gave her injuries beyond imagination. Ruthie, for instance, asked the auto rickshaw driver for a driving lesson (and got one), and proudly ignored the "no hugs" tendencies of the Indian folk. 
I MISS YOU GUYS! I'm doing OK. Got the train ticket. Haven't lost anything else....yet.
-Mark
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