She was dressed in black silk interwoven with gold thread.   She shimmered in the morning sun as she walked.  We were driving up the sidewalk, shortcutting past a slow stoplight.   We sounded the horn to scatter the others out of our way, then we came up behind her. Bweeep beep went our horn, but she flicked her head around in a motion that sent her black hair and black silk fluttering in an arc.   She gave my driver a look that ended his honking.  For good measure she gave me the same look.  We formed a quiet procession behind her stately walk. 

The cars on the street raced by.  The light had turned green.

I have a rule of not responding to "blog tags", where someone tags you to write about something and then tag a number of others to do likewise.   But, I got tagged by my nephew Skylar to "write six things you love about yourself".   Since I really like Sky I will play along, plus I just found out that Sky's aunt Gabrielle has a blog. 

Gabrielle:  Consider yourself tagged.

Now this is a difficult topic to write about.  My mother would tell you "Oh, Shawn has no problem listing the things he loves about himself." But that is not the problem.  That topic would induce nausea and vomiting and I don't want any puke on my new site design.  I was going to just copy Skylars, but "Curly Hair", "Good at rebounds", "Loves playing tackle football" is not something I could claim for myself.

Instead, I did a little detective work and found the comment entry where Sky was tagged and found out that the rule is "Write 6 interesting things about yourself, then tag 6 people to do the same".   Much easier to digest.

Enough dithering, here is my list of 6:

1. I LIVE IN INDIA!!!!  I was walking up a little tree lined street on my way up to the highway to catch an autorickshaw to Sarah's soccer game against Bombay and stopped to play cricket with some kids on the street.   Ever day I find a new reason to like being here.  Once in a while I find something that I don't like or wish were different.  The score is certainly in favor of this being a great experience.
   
   
2. Oh, did I mention that my family is here also?  I started this blog 3 years ago so that my family could read what I was doing in India while they were back home in Arizona.   Now they are sharing in the adventure.  I wouldn't want it any other way.
   
   
3. Speaking of adventure, Joshua and I are planning a hiking trip in the Himalayas.  We will be up higher than almost any place outside the Himalayas on the slopes of the 3rd highest peak in the world.     10-15 days total, April 2009.  Open invitation to anyone who wants to fly over and come along.
   
   
4. I have a rule about my work that I set a month into my current job.  That rule is "If I go 5 days in a row of not liking my job then I will quit".  I am three weeks away from 10 years at that same company and the closest I ever got was 3 days back in 2000.  It is a wonderful blessing to love what I do.  Sometimes I love it too much, but that is another post.
   
   
5. I also have the best job in my church.  I don't write much about church things here, maybe that will change, but my job is to work with young men age 12-18.  There are about 50 in our not-so-little branch here.  Most live in youth hostels. All are wonderful and it is the highlight of my week to spend a couple hours with them each Sunday.  Back in Arizona there were much more qualified people doing this job, but they let me tag along whenever I wanted and that was very good training.
   
   
6. The only part missing is a couple steps closer to being here.  Nothing final, and I hope I don't jinx anything, but we are making progress on getting Ian to India.  Ian is my 12 year old son who lives in Utah.   We are close to the "Not if, but when" phase.  Here's hoping.

That was harder than I thought.  Now, I will use this for good.  I have had many comments wondering when my much more eloquent and intelligent wife will jump into blogging.  I will tag her, along with Joshua and Sarah.  Those three along with Gabe are 4 of my 6.  I will hold onto the other 2 and consider my options....

Thanks to Sky for the tag and keep up the blogging.  I would link to his blog, but it is invite only.  Popular people have to take precautions, the paparazzi and all.  You know how it is.

I climbed down from the soap box to redesign my site.  The rants about India will return shortly.

I am a bit of a font-junkie, and a big fan of Wes Anderson movies.   Wes Anderson is a bit obsessive about fonts in his movies, or at least has one font that gets used for everything.  The Futura font family is used throughout his movies.  In case you don't have a working knowledge of wierd directors, his movies are "Bottle Rocket", "Rushmore", "The Royal Tenenbaums", "The Life Aquatic with Steve Zissou" and his latest "The Darjeeling Limited".   The font has a nice symmetry and simplicity that I find appealing.   I had a bit of a Wes Anderson Film Fest today in honor of the arrival of his latest, The Darjeeling Limited.


Futura Bold used in "The Royal Tenenbaums"

The result is a new design that incorporates as much Futura as I could.    I was also getting tired of the mostly white and grey design I have had up for the last few years.  That site also had problems with different screen widths.

Please let me know if you have any problems or comments with this new design.   I had to edit the content of a couple of recent posts to fix a problem with the font color.  Apologies if that caused some readers to show the items as new and unread. 

Mike was usually the first one packed.   At first glance you might think he had lost something in the weeds, but he was actually going over the entire campsite like a detective looking for evidence.  Evidence of humans.   And every bit of evidence was picked up and put in a garbage bag.   He and I would go along on Scout camping trips with Joshua, his son Bryant and the rest of the local troop.    Even though this troop could destroy the peace and tranquility of the wilderness, everything that they packed in was packed out and we usually packed out more than we brought in.    It has been ingrained into my mind for decades that you don’t litter.   You don’t throw wrappers out the window and you don’t leave piles of garbage behind when you visit a place.     I know in the back of my mind that any garbage I pack home will be burned or recycled.  We made it clear during our first week in the house that it was completely unacceptable for the staff to carry our garbage down the lane and throw it in the weeds.    Now our garbage is either recycled or burned.   I  do have some guilt about the air pollution, but I know no other alternative.

 

A fellow traveler once called India “the world’s largest garbage dump” and while I know some may take offense at such a description I give back only my offense at the many people who:

• Throw wrappers out the window of a train
• Leave piles of garbage on the beach after a visit
• Throw their garbage on the side of the street, or in front of their neighbors house.
• Have no apparent care that every public place in India is strewn with garbage.

 

My only explanation is a lack of regard for the “commons”.  I will use the following definitions for “commons”:

 

                a place, real or virtual, that is not privately owned. Natural commons include the oceans and the atmosphere.

                                                http://www.gfem.org/mediapolicy/html/MediaPolicyGlossary04.html 

 

The concept of the Commons comes from English Common Law, which India inherited  during the time of British rule.   The basic right granted was the right to graze livestock on lands defined as common.   The concept included additional rights to fish, take sod and  soil and to gather wood.   All these actions are typical across India, including the widely held notion by foreigners that cows roam the streets without control.   However, by only enforcing the “takings” side of this right, the value, usefulness and appearance of the commons has deteriorated to a derelict state.     What is the fix for this?   Danielle contributed an obvious answer to yesterday's post on sanitation that I had not considered: “Hope”.  Hope that a increasing rise of an affluent will allow provide people the time to care and make a difference.   This time to care can be as simple as deciding not to litter to organizing “Adopt-A-Street” campaigns to a “Buy Green” mentality to an active campaign to petition government intervention.    Am I saying this as a visitor here from a perfect place?  No, America has its share of trash and litter, but not nearly as bad as India.   More important is the concept that a belief in the protection of the commons has much more important ramifications than clean streets.    What India and the U.S. share is a much more dangerous “Tragedy of the Commons”.    In the U.S. this is evidenced in tragedies such as the depletion of wetlands, overfishing of the Columbia, air pollution problems at the Grand Canyon, and urban sprawl.   In the U.S. there is a motivated base of people working on solutions to these problems by applying pressure to government and industry.   I am sure that the same issues face India, but I do not see the same level of opposition and scrutiny.

 

Do I hope that India becomes the land of environmental activists?  Sure, why not?    India became rightly incensed decades ago after the Bhopal Disaster.   A similar, but less visible tragedy is happening across this great country in the form of decreased efficiency and health standards.   If we take the position that lower standards of sanitation and environmental quality equate to a one year decrease in life expectancy then that adds up to 1 billion years of potential lost to this generation.

 

The hope that I have is that this generation realizes that the freedom of the commons not only permits the free use of these commons, but requires though and action to protect the commons.    

She was visibly disturbed, angry enough to wake me up and share her displeasure.   For weeks a camp of fishermen have been slowly migrating up the beach.   They destroy a section of beach with all manner of waste and destruction, then migrate onwards.   Amy and Joshua ran into this migration this morning when they went down to “our beach” to run.   The scene at 6:30 in the morning was of dozens of men bathing in the ocean and squatting and, how-do-you-say-it?  pooping, crapping, you get the idea.   All over the beach.   Most didn’t dig a small hole to bury their waste.    Later today these fishermen will clean the catch on the beach, throwing all unwanted fish parts and garbage around until the beach is a bigger garbage dump than the sides of the streets.

Mother nature will eventually work to reclaim this beach, but the constant flow of garbage will prevent the word “pristine” from being applied to anything in India.   How long it will be before Max and Abby are allowed to build sand castles on the beach remains to be seen.   I wouldn’t be surprised if that time is in California.

 

It is hard to understand how this civilization was not wiped out centuries ago by cholera and hepatitis.   There is a distinct lack of regard for sanitation here, evident by men lining the streets to urinate and the morning ritual of spreading out each morning across the fields and beaches to defecate.   It reminds me of a basic lesson taught in Boy Scouts.   When camping we were taught to dig a trench latrine for the group to use, a shallow trench that was to keep human waste from contaminating the area.    When I have asked about this, the usual answer is “The government won’t provide sewer systems…”.    India is the world’s largest democracy, a democracy is supposed to be “government of the people, by the people and  for the people”.    If even a small minority of people would demand a better system then it would happen.  That is democracy at its best.  

 

In the meantime, we will watch where we step and stay off the beach for a while.

We had an interesting time yesterday.  One of our friends was out shopping in Chennai.  While she was in a shop a man picked up a large rock and threw it through the back window of her Land Cruiser.   People nearby (remember, everything in India is a spectator sport) grabbed him.  Our friends driver exchanged some heated words and maybe a few blows.   The crowd roughed him up a bit while they waited for the police to arrive.  Once the police arrived they really worked him over with their walking sticks.   He was still able to walk, as they let him go and followed him home.  Once they knew where he lived they arrested him.   The police said the man had been throwing rocks at the US consulate earlier in the day.   I guess he has a gripe against America and saw a non-Indian woman and decided a rock was a form of free speech.

I was pleased with the response this episode received from the more impressionable an alarmable among us, i.e. Sarah.   She wasn't alarmed at all.   I think that a few months ago this would have been very threatening to her and would have caused a lot of anxiety.   It is very good to see her getting more comfortable here.

No comment on the vigilante justice....

Right after I posted the long post below, I turned on iTunes to listen to those songs.   For some reason iTunes put a link to bossa nova singer "Bebel Gilberto" in the suggestions box at the bottom of the screen.   That got my attention as I am a fan of Joao Gilberto and Astrud Gilberto.    I listened to a sample which reminded me of an afternoon 11 years ago.   Back then I worked at the Biology Department at Utah State University.   One of my favorite professors was Dr. Janis Skujins.   One day he asked me to come over to his house to install a printer.   His basement was a museum exact replica of what I imagined a hip sixties jazz lovers basement to be.   I told the good Doctor that I felt we should be listening to Bossa Nova in such a place.   Why I would remember that small episode I don't know, but it got me curious about Dr. Skujins.   A Google search showed that he died almost three years ago.  That site is focused on the community where I used to live, where I grew up.  As I scanned the obituaries page I caught the name Erin Christine Betz, my first girlfriend.

Erin and I dated in our senior year of High School.  We both went to different schools, me to Sky View (a school on the edge of cow pastures) and she to Logan (in the big city of 40,000 people).   I really liked someone else, and went to a dance at Logan High to find her.  Instead I ended up dancing many times with Erin and leaving with her.  It is so very cliche, but that night was my first time kissing, in my Dad's OldsmoBuick up on the hill overlooking Logan.   We went out for maybe 6 months or so after that.  I remember once while we were dating, Erin called me and said "If you really love me you will put on your Sunday clothes (Utah speak for nice shirt and pants, tie and jacket if you have one) and come over to my house this morning.   She wouldn't tell me why, but when I arrived she asked me to go with her to her grandmother's funeral.  She said she just wanted me to sit next to her and hold her hand, that she didn't like funerals.  Those few months were all good.  I learned a lot about dating and what to say (and not say) to a girlfriend.  I think Erin matured faster than I did and we grew apart as graduation neared.   I lost touch with her after graduation as our lives took different paths.  

It hits home when someone your age, someone you were close to for a time is now gone.  It puts many things in perspective and I really feel for Erin, for the things that will be missed in a life cut short, and I think that I must live life more fully, because you never know...

Rest in Peace, Erin Betz, thanks for those few months long ago in high school.

 

And as for Doctor Janis Skujins?  His office was upstairs from mine, and he would often come down and talk.  By that time he was an Emeritus Professor, mostly retired but still editing a journal.  We would talk about his homeland in the Baltics, he was from Latvia.   The fall of the iron curtain was just a few years before. He would travel there every so often and bring back Latvian chocoloate.  He would offer me a piece and say "Much better than Belgian chocolate, no?"  I would joke in reply, "Yes, but compared to Hershey's..."   

The best part of that job was hanging out talking to professors.  They would explain their science to me, and I would try to keep up.   It was a good job, mostly because of those professors and their willingness to spend some time talking to the computer guy about any imaginable topic.

Joshua and I have been laughing about this picture for a couple of days.  So much seriousness in such a small package.

This was posted as part of as tutorial for Joshua.  My India Journal now joined by his "India Post".   Please have a look (http://www.joshkunz.com/blog), I am really excited to see and read his perspective on India.   He can be my Paul Harvey ("Now for the rest of the story....") to my Shawn Hannity ramblings.  Plus, he has a camera and a YouTube account.

For as long as I can remember, music has been a very powerful influence on my life.   It must be genetic because I see the same in Abby and Max.  Lately I use music to navigate the muddy water that is the mix of homesickness and exhilaration of our life abroad.    On our iPods Amy and I have a playlist called “Rocket Man” that is frequently on in the kitchen late at night, after the kids have gone to bed and we are cleaning up.    The first time I played it she asked me why I had grouped these songs.   Each has some meaning of leaving, being gone or wanting to be home.    It was playing last night after a long day of having guests over and I started to over analyze why I felt that way about each.   A Monday evening without much energy to work is the perfect opportunity to explore.  The first revealed truth is that I am OLD, and have TWO John Denver songs on my list.   That alone should have been enough for me to hit the delete button on this post, but since I didn’t…..

 

Leaving on a Jet Plane (Chantel Kreviazuk version)

I’m leavin’ on a jet plane
Don’t know when I’ll be back again
Oh babe, I hate to go

 

A few years ago I took a new assignment, working out of our California office.   I would fly out early Monday mornings, leaving home at 4:00 AM to catch a flight.   I would often leave this song quietly looping on my home PC as I left in the dark, knowing that Amy would either curse me for leaving it on or realize it was intentional.   I just love being at the airport, that feeling of imminent departure.   Someday I will live the dream of walking up the counter and saying “book us on the first plane that leaves after 6:00, we don’t care where it is going, and make it a one-way ticket.”

 

Rocket Man  (Elton John)

And i think it's gonna be a long long time
Till touch down brings me round again

 

This is almost the opposite of “Leaving on a Jet Plane” for me.   Instead of the exhilaration of leaving it seems to focus on the agony of being gone.   For all the joy of travel, you always  go without that part of happiness that is being home.

 

I’ll Miss You Till I Meet You (Dar Williams)

And as I drove myself back home,
A little voice said just be alone,
But sometimes I think I see you in a crowd,
It's not picture perfect, but you're meant for me somehow,

And I'll miss you till I meet you,
I'll miss you till I meet you,
I miss you all the time.

 

This song is the hardest to write about.  I have been a Dar Williams fan since seeing her perform in Logan, Utah many years ago.  I bought her album “My Better Self” when it came out last year, but I don’t think I had listened to this song until the last day of summer.   I was driving Ian back to his home in Utah.  We were both terribly sad, knowing that it would be a long time before we would be together again.   I was playing various songs from my iPod and trying to find just the right song to convey what I couldn’t find words or strength to say.   I noticed this song on the list and hit play.   By the time it was half over we had to pull over to the side of the road.  Even now I have a hard time listening to it because it reminds me of how much we miss Ian and want him to experience India with us.  But I spoke to him on the phone this morning before and we worked out a plan to make it happen, inshallah.

 

Mary’s In India (Dido)

Danny is lonely
Mary's in India now
She said she'd call but that was three weeks ago
She left all her things well, her books and her letters from him
But as the sun rises on Mary sets on him

 

A song bought by accident.   Purchased on iTunes last June when I was building a sense of excitement by playing Bollywood showtunes.   Instead, this is a song about Mary who has gone to India and lost touch with her friends back home.    Apart from Ian, mentioned above (and other family), the part about going home that I am most looking forward to is driving down Cotton Court, our little street in Arizona and seeing our good friends that live around us.   And while that is still 772 days away, it is still what I am looking forward to the most.

 

Falling Slowly (Glen Hansard & Marketa Irglova)

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now

 

I decided to finally write this post when I saw that this song won an Oscar.   It is from a great little movie called “Once”.  That movie and this song are about two people making difficult decisions to take a risk in their lives.  

 

Build (The Housemartins)

Its build a house where we can stay
Add a new bit everyday
Its build a road for us to cross
Build us lots and lots and lots and lots and lots

 

An old and obscure song that has always conveyed a sense of longing for a place to settle down after turmoil.   The Housemartins were an English alternative rock bad back in the 80’s, part of that group was Norman Cook, now better known as Fatboy Slim.  Hard to see the parallels.    Another anecdote about this group:  I was living in Oregon back in ’88 when the Housemartins “London 0 Hull 4” album came out.  It had a song on it called “Johannesburg”.  My cousin Shauna had just returned from being an exchange student in Johannesburg.  We played th song for her and asked if it reminded her of South Africa.  She said “No, not at all” and walked away.   Finding meaning in music is a very subjective exercise.

 

Walk on the Ocean (Toad the Wet Sprocket)

we spotted the ocean at the head of the trail
where are we going, so far away
and somebody told me that this is the place
where everything's better, everything's safe

 

As you turn off the highway into our neighborhood, the road ends at the ocean.   Most days I still find joy in that little glimpse of the Indian Ocean and the fact that here we are, so far away and so hopeful that this will continue to be the good experience that I promised.

 

The Only Living Boy in New York (Simon and Garfunkel)

Half of the time we're gone but we don't know where,
And we don't know here.

 

Tom, get your plane right on time.
I know you've been eager to fly now.
Hey let your honesty shine, shine, shine

 

A classic song about leaving and being left behind.   Written by Paul Simon when Art Garfunkel was leaving to go to Mexico to film a movie.   There had been some strain in their relationship prior to this and Simon’s lyrics seem to say to go, that all will be fine.    

 

Find the River (R.E.M.)

Me, my thoughts are flower strewn
Ocean storm, bayberry moon
I have got to leave to find my way
Watch the road and memorize
This life that pass before my eyes

 

Since the beginning, I have had a steadfast belief that this was the right thing to do (coming to India).  That it would be good for our family and for my career.   While I have had many times to listen to this song and hear the next line “Nothing is going my way”, we always seem to come through the trouble and emerge better off, even if better off is only the ability to say we have survived one more situation that would have seemed tragi-comedy fiction just 8 months ago.  This song ends “Pick up here and chase the ride/The river empties to the tide/All of this is coming your way”.   

 

I’ll Go Where You Want Me To Go (Afterglow version)

There’s surely somewhere a lowly place,
In earth’s harvest fields so white,
Where I may labor through life’s short day

 

When I look at my job and how many days it doesn’t make any sense for me to be in India, I think that maybe I am here for a different reason.  Lately I have been working closely with a couple of hostels (homes and schools for orphans and other disadvantages kids).   This has been some of our most rewarding experiences here, and something I will write more about later.   In fact, the experiences I value the most are when we are surrounded by these kids and sharing in their joy of being in their lives.

 

Take Me Home Country Roads (John Denver)

I hear her voice
In the mornin hour she calls me
The radio reminds me of my home far away
And drivin down the road I get a feelin
That I should have been home yesterday, yesterday

Country roads, take me home
To the place I belong

 

While this song is about West Virginia mountains that are not a part of me, it reminds me of the mountains I miss, the mountains are so much of what I think of when I think of America as home.   The Superstition mountains outside Phoenix and the Wasatch mountains of northern Utah that I spent so much time wandering in years past.    It was an unfortunate side effect of my career choice that I would be required to work in cities (now in foreign countries).  My location of choice would be a rural home with a backyard that opened up to the Rocky Mountains.

 

Graceland (Paul Simon)

And my traveling companions
Are ghosts and empty sockets
I'm looking at ghosts and empties,
But I've reason to believe
We all will be received
In Graceland

 

I am not sure why this song is here, which may explain why it is last on the list.   Maybe it is a journey not taken three years ago.  That journey had been planned for 7 years to fulfill another part of this song:  “And we are going to Graceland, / My traveling companion in nine years old / he is the child of my first marriage”.   What seemed so good in the mind couldn’t stand the light of day when I explained to Amy that I wanted to take a road trip to Tennessee with Ian because of this song.    Or maybe this song is on the list because it has a line about blogging “Everybody sees you’re blown apart / Everybody feels the wind blow”.   Or maybe it just fits this list because it is a classic song about being away.

 

 

We were recently shopping in Chennai when I noticed an iPod under the case.   While at first glance this may look similar to an iPod Nano, it is actually a very cheap imitation.    We have the real thing to compare and detect the fake, but I wonder how many of these get sold to people who spend hard earned money on something that is barely in the same category as the real thing.