Posted on January 9, 2017 under Monday Morning Musings with 3 comments

Belting out a tune at the old age home

Music is the theme of today’s post.

First . A quick note about Kanyakumari. It is the southern most town in India and as such, it is literally the end of the line for buses and trains. Tourists come from all over India and indeed from around the world to vacation here. Unfortunately, because of its location, many people, especially those with challenges, are often abandoned and left at the train station and bus station. Charities, like the ones run by The Daughters of Mary, where I am volunteering, come to their rescue.

In this region, the Sisters operate 11 orphanages, a home for the aged, a home for 100 mentally ill women, another rural property for the mentally ill and a leper colony. These are the ones that I know about. I am sure there are others.

Shortly after I arrived in Hyderabad, I bought a guitar to keep myself amused. While I played it occasionally in my room, I never had the opportunity to use my music anywhere else. ( Maybe somebody heard me singing and decided that Hyderabad wasn’t quite ready for Leonard Cohen, Neil Young or Stan Rogers! ).

Upon arrival in Kanyakumari, I mentioned the guitar and the genie was out of the bottle. A few days after settling in, the Sisters asked me to sing at mass in their tiny, perfect chapel. There was the priest ( Father Dominique ) , the three Sisters and me. The stillness of the early morning ( a 6:00 a.m. mass ), and the intimacy of the chapel provided a wonderful backdrop for  a very short and simple celebration.

Father Dominique gave one of the briefest and most meaningful sermons I have ever heard. He told the Sisters that the religious were called to provide three S’s: soup, soap and spirit. Soup represents food which is the most important thing for the poor. Soap represents health and hygiene. And of course, they are asked to provide spiritual guidance. He added a fourth S: Study. He felt that once the poor had the basic necessities of life, then education was next on the list of priorities. He didn’t refer to any bible readings. He just talked common sense. I congratulated him afterwards for being so practical.

Last week, I did my first field trip, visiting many of the facilities mentioned above. The old age home in no way looks like the ones we are used to seeing in Canada. There are 60 residents: 30 men and 30 women living in dorm style accommodations: 30 in one room and 30 in another. The women’s dorm, in particular, is badly in need of renovations.  Most of these people have been abandoned by their families. There is no funding from government ( and certainly not from the families ) . The Sisters rely on charity to keep the place going. Under the circumstances they do a remarkable job. They are also building a 20 bed palliative care unit so that they can move the very sick and dying.

When I arrived, most of the women were curled up in their beds. The Sister in charge introduced me. The women were nonplussed. I don’t know why I did it or why I chose these particular songs, but I sang “The Kelligrews  Soiree “ and “  I’se The By.” It was like an electric current went through the place. They all got up and came to the front of the room where I was standing. They clapped and more importantly, they smiled, and then they sang a song for me. It was very uplifting.

Something similar happened at the home for the mentally ill women. About 70 of them were in this very large gymnasium type structure, chilling out watching a television program. After being introduced, the Sister in charge asked if anyone would like to sing a song for their guest. It took some cajoling but finally, one lady came up and performed a song.  I decided to sing as well. The acoustics were simply out of this world. I felt so inspired and was really pouring my heart into it. And then a lineup formed. Everyone wanted to sing for “Mr.Len.” They sang in Tamil, in Telegu and Hindi and other dialects I didn’t recognize. I shook just about every hand before I left.

Emmaus, the name of the facility, badly needs to acquire some land so that they can get these women outdoor more often. They would like to get an acreage where they could grow vegetables… good for the body, mind and soul.

The other evening, the Mother Superior of the order and some of her executive members, came to Stella Maris for dinner. I was asked to join them . ( not full time… just for dinner! ). There was lively discussion at the dinner table with many questions about Canada. I grabbed my guitar and sang “ Oceanside Again” and “ Farewell to Nova Scotia” in rapid succession. It didn’t appear to cause indigestion.

I was saving this for the end.

Do you have a pair of pajamas or just some old clothes that you wear around the house, that you’ve had FOREVER? Thought so. I have a pair of St.F.X  gym shorts that I’ve had since the early 80’s. I also have a t-shirt that has seen better days . Combined, this is perfect attire to wear to bed in warm climates.

It was 11:30 a.m. I had been on the go since 4:30 and after a long walk, I decided to cool off and stretch out for a power snooze before lunch. The door bell to my room rang. It was Sister Archana who had just returned from a 6 month stint at the Coady. “ Grab your guitar.” I have come to understand that when Sister says something, she means business. I asked for two minutes to get changed. “ You look fine the way you are,” she said. I hopped in their vehicle along with three other Sisters and we went roaring through the streets of Kanyakumari. They prayed along the way. I prayed that we didn’t have an accident, dressed as scantily as I was (!).

Ten minutes later, we arrived at a mansion of a very wealthy foreign diplomat. He and his family were having a dedication ceremony to a grotto of the Blessed Virgin Mary. The Sisters had been invited to pray and I had been invited to sing a song about Mary. His extended family was in attendance. All of them were dressed to the nines. Mercifully, the ceremony was short and sweet as it was held outside in the scorching sun. He had a second grotto on the property and invited us to go and see it. While there, he asked me if I had ever heard the Paul McCartney song, “ Let it Be.” I cranked out a few verses much to his great joy.

He invited us into his house for tea. It was bad enough that I was hot and sweaty and ill attired but when I spilled the tea all over my t-shirt, I swear some people might have thought that the Sisters had just arrived from one of their rescue missions.

On January 6^th., “ Old Christmas” , the Sisters held a postponed Christmas party . They wanted to wait until Sister Archana returned from Canada to have this gathering with staff and volunteers. There was a gift exchange followed by tea and fruitcake. I sang “ Oh Holy Night”, a cappella, at 4:00 p.m. ( usually a midnight mass specialty ), in 34 degree heat…  hardly Christmasy but it felt like it.

Have a great week.

P.S. Video #2 ( Len Live ) coming up on Wednesday. I’ll show you how charity is done quickly and efficiently.

Posted on January 2, 2017 under Monday Morning Musings with 2 comments

Sunrise Point, Kanyakumari, India.

“ So don’t be sad, cause two out of three ( 1 out of 3 ) ain’t bad.”

Two Out Of Three Ain’t Bad . Meatloaf

 

I had given a lot of thought before entering the convent. When a person reaches retirement age, they are far less prone to doing anything too adventurous. It is generally a time of reflection, relaxation and reminiscing. How about that for the “three R’s ?” But going through the front door of a convent requires contemplation, consultation and capitulation. One must take vows.

I am happy to report that the perpetual vow of poverty will not be necessary due to demonetization in India. If I can’t find cash in a city of ten million, then money will hardly be a temptation in a town of about 30,000 people.

Before travelling to Kanyakumari,  on my “ journey of discovery,” I gave it the good old college try and tried to secure some rupees to help pay my expenses. So, I spent my final two days in Hyderabad walking the streets trying to pry some money out of the ATM’s. Yes, I intentionally went looking for lineups because I heeded the advice of a woman I met one morning next to an empty ATM kiosk. “ No crowd. No cash. “

My first stop was a pleasant surprise as there were only about 15 people in front of me. Figuring that each transaction takes about a minute and knowing  full well that people carry multiple cards with them ( their own, their friends, granny’s etc. ), I estimated an ETA of about 45 minutes. The second surprise wasn’t so pleasant as the machine flatly refused to cough up the dough. It rejected both of my debit cards. Undeterred I moved on. I thought I must be suffering heat exhaustion and was seeing things when I spied an ATM with only two people in line. I thought about calling Rome to report a miracle. I was in and out in under 5 minutes. By the time I left, 25 people had quickly joined the queue. The last attempt yielded an all too familiar out. I was two steps from the finish line when the machine ran out of money. The trifecta completed, I decided that enough was enough and hoped and prayed that Kanyakumari accepted credit cards.

Much to my shock, they held a surprise going away party for me at my residence in Hyderabad the night before I left. I was a bit embarrassed that they would go to this trouble. After all, I had only been there two months which hardly warranted this type of treatment. It is very rare indeed that any of us are really surprised when we reach a momentous birthday and friends or a spouse arranges a covert gathering. You act shocked but come on, when you turn 100 , you know that even the Queen is going to acknowledge it. It is one thing to do it in broad daylight but in the darkness of your bedroom? Now that’s a real coup.

I had turned out the lights and was closing in on REM sleep when they attacked with a fury. Every mosquito in Manikonda, Hyderabad formed a guard of honor around my head. Earlier that evening, I had made the fatal mistake of not closing all my windows at dusk when mosquitoes are at their worst. When their leader yelled  “ attack”, I felt the full sting of their assault. Yes. I pulled the covers over my head but when it’s still 28  degrees outside, that loses its charm quickly. Instead of a restful night before a long day of travel, I swatted and scratched until the wee hours of the morning. Some party.

One more thing. I decided on my last day ( when I was not in an ATM lineup ) to do one touristy thing. I decided to visit Fort Golkonda, an important and historic landmark in Hyderabad. It is a massive structure and the view from the top is quite stunning. Of course, I walked there because it was only 5 kilometres away. To get there you have to go through a very narrow s-turned archway that is the width of three motorcycles.. or two auto rickshaws.. or 1.5 taxis. A pedestrian walks through there only if being chased by pirates. It was rush hour in early evening ( I wanted to get a good picture of the sunset ) when I arrived at the arches. Mercifully, they had  traffic cops at either end of the archway. I very carefully made my way through.

Once through the gates, you have to walk about another kilometer through a small town to get to the fort. To add to the congestion, this strip of real estate was under construction reducing passage to a motorcycle and auto rickshaw, or three hungry goats. This was the most dangerous walk of my entire two months… possibly in my life! There were times when I had to turn sideways and suck in my gut to make sure that I wasn’t going to get crushed. It was somewhat unnerving. I finally threw in the towel and as silly as it sounds, I accepted a free ride for the last few hundred yards  from a rickshaw driver who saw me in my hour of need.

This dude would have made Mario Andretti proud. He and his other passenger ( obviously a friend ) were joyriding through this footpath called a road. I am convinced that they were enjoying some recently acquired amphetamines as they played “ chicken” with every vehicle in their sights. I paid him 100 rupees to let me out.

I made a quick trip to the top of the fort. As I neared the summit, I heard a blood curdling scream. I feared that someone had gone over the side of one of the ramparts. This was followed by more screams and when I turned around, I saw what was the source of the consternation. There was a school tour of grade 9 girls. And why the pandemonium? A Bieber sighting perhaps ? No. The  sight of a 65 year old bald white guy had sent them all a twitter. I posed for selfies galore , made my descent and walked home in the dark… to attend a surprise going away party.

Happy New Year.

P.S. MAN COLD ALERT. As I write this, I am in the throes of a man cold. I will give you an update on Thursday provided that I live that long!

 

Posted on December 26, 2016 under Monday Morning Musings with one comment

A Sri Lankan temple at Sarnath honoring Buddha

This is the first time that I have been away from home and family at Christmas time since the days when I was young, single and had a full head of hair! And while I missed many of the traditions associated with this time of the year, I experienced some things that were quite extraordinary.

On December 23^rd. I left one of the richest places on the planet ( Abu Dhabi ) and flew to one of the oldest and poorest cities in India, Varanasi. My flight took me through New Delhi which is one of the most polluted cities in the world. Sitting in the departure lounge in Delhi , waiting for my flight to Varanasi, I had trouble seeing the airplanes sitting a few hundred meters away. Varanasi wasn’t much better when I landed. My lodgings for Christmas were at the administrative headquarters of the Indian Missionary Society ( IMS )  run by Catholic priests. The current chief officer of the order is Father Thomas who was a parish priest and pastor in Cape Breton for several years. The facility shares the land with an ashram,  or spiritual centre.

On Christmas Eve Day, Father Thomas took me around the city to visit several of their facilities including their seminary. Their work takes them to all corners of India and not surprisingly most of their missionary work is directed towards helping the poor. Both Mother Teresa and the Dalai Lama have been guests at the seminary. Among the many people I met,  one was a  medical doctor who provides his services at the semianry,  as well as in the community. He is affectionately known as the “ snake doctor” as his specialty is treating snake bites. This was both comforting and disconcerting  to me. He told me that he had treated more than 1000 patients in the last year, most of whom had been bitten by cobras. I decided to pay more attention to where I walked!

IMS has been in existence for 75 years and they spend a lot of time in the neighborhoods providing a wide array of services. The population is predominantly Hindu and over this long period of time, they have come to understand  Christianity. Hindus have many gods and are accepting of other faiths.

I noticed a lot of activity at the ashram early in the day as it was obvious that preparations were underway for a large Christmas celebration. Around noon time, people started to arrive, carrying food for the day along with bedding for an overnight camp out. At 3:00 p.m. music and dance began at an open air field covered by a tarp, mainly for protection from the sun. By this time , several thousand people had arrived and there was a very festive atmosphere.

The crowd swelled to some 10,000 people by 6:00 p.m. when a Christmas drama was presented. It was the story of the birth of Christ with several interesting adaptations that acknowledged the mostly Hindu audience. Of course, it was all in Hindi so I didn’t understand a word, but that didn’t matter as the visuals, the dancing, the color and the music, kept me highly entertained.

I joined the priests for dinner at 8:00 and at 9:00 a concelebrated midnight mass was held back at the main stage. The spiritual director of the ashram presided. But before mass began, he preached… for over an hour. He sat on the stage, surrounded by 25 or so priests. He spoke and read from scripture. He had a wonderful voice and from time to time led the congregation in song. He also took command of the stage standing near the front. He was an incredible orator. The only word I recognized all evening was “hallelujah” and when he repeated it several times in a row, raising his voice each time, he had the crowd in a near frenzy. Martin Luther King would have been impressed with his oratorical skills. Mass ended at midnight and celebrations continued till the wee hours of the morning.

I didn’t see any sign of Santa… or Christmas trees… or presents.

Christmas morning was low keyed as everyone was trying to recover from the long night. In the afternoon, I was picked up and taken to a home that houses the railway children. DARE ( Development Association for Research and Empowerment ) is one of the many projects of IMS and it’s administrator is Father Abhi who comes to the Diocese of Antigonish every summer to put on missions to raise money for this home. The previous evening at the festival, I watched in awe as the children from the home performed a few dances.

Every day, tens of thousands of people come into Varanasi by train. Many of them are pilgrims coming to bathe in the Ganges River. For a variety of reasons, many children are simply abandoned and left at the railway station. Many of them become beggars and are forced into labour and become the victims of sexual abuse.”  DARE is an organization with a special focus on rescue and rehabilitation of the children trying to find food and shelter from the trains and railway stations,” according to their mandate. “ We provide temporary shelter, education, vocational training, family counselling, foster care and legal aid to children to have a better future.”

I had a chance to spend time with the children. It was very humbling. A group of university students showed up with a hot lunch and Christmas presents… the only ones that they would get this Christmas but I’m certain that being in a safe place, is the greatest present that they could ever receive.

They desperately need a 20 person mini bus to transport the children to school. More on this at a later date. Maybe we can help them acquire this. “DARE to be different?”

I hopped on the back of Fr. Abhi’s motorcycle and travelled to Sarnath, a spiritual destination for Buddhists around the world. It was at this site that Buddha first preached to his five companions after enlightenment. It is a place of worship and peace.

What happened after we left was anything but peaceful.           

It was late in the afternoon when it was time for me to go back to my residence. A taxi was hired and Fr. Abhi decided he would come with me.  Darkness was setting in as we crawled through the congested ( and noisy! ) streets of the city at rush hour. Our taxi driver rear ended a brand new SUV. What ensued is a story in itself but it was a very dangerous situation as the three occupants of the SUV were extremely upset. They were very big, menacing looking guys and they were demanding restitution on the spot. A crowd of about 25 curious onlookers surrounded our taxi and everyone was shouting and waving their arms. I found out afterwards that some were supporting the taxi driver while others were on the side of the aggrieved. This could have ended very badly for our driver ( possibly tragically ). Stay tuned for the full story but from all accounts, me being from Canada possibly saved this guys’s life. It was a very dramatic and unsettling end to a Christmas Day that I’ll not soon forget.

I have a story for you later in the week. It’s called “ A Delhi Sandwich.”  Leaving Abu Dhabi provided a bit of drama that I just had to chronicle.

Much later tonight ( India time ), I will be Skyping with the participants of the street hockey game on Hillcrest Street.

Have a great week.