This is me at the top!






This past weekend I went with a group from school to Gingee Fort and Tiravannamali on a two day trip. Gingee Fort is called the"Troy of the East." It first began by the Cholla Dynasty in the 9th century, and refortified in the 13th . Apparently there were warring kingdoms at the time. The fort consists of 3 hills, connected by walls enclosing an area of 7 km. It had an 8 story marriage hall, prisoncells, a military gymnasium, and a temple dedicated to its presiding female deity call Chenjianman. The fort is built upon a fascinating morass of giant stones and cut granite. There was a mote around the entire fort. There are granite steps to the top, and it was an impressive climb to the top where the temple still stands in ruins. There were carved pictures in the granite, and amazing arches--how did they do it?

There was a beggar man on the way in, and a large family group having a picnic. They invited me to stop and eat with them.. I did. Some rice and vegetables. I gave the man my sandwich and some rupees. I had yet to see people begging--this trip was the beginning. We were also met my troops of monkeys--my first again.
they jumped from limb to limb and watched us curiously. They were enchanting to watch with their babies clinging to the mothers asre was one tree growing out of seemingly pure rock--ancient. The fields within the fort are now farmed. Mostly rice.

Walking down the wall we passed some women working in the fields--two little boys played near them. We only see women and children working in the field. I don't know what the men are doing.We hiked and looked until our eyes popped out and we suffered heat exhaustion. We reboarded the bus and took off for our hotel.

the theater

Thursday evening I went with 2 women my age who have been here for 5 years (one is from Minnesota! The other Indian) and a younger woman from South Africa. We left school and went to this beautiful old home of a Maharaja turned into a tea room and boutique. IT was the height of luxury. We had hired a cab for the evening. After that he drove us to a state of the art theatre that puts the Guthrie to shame in comfort, and certainly price. WE bought the most expensive tickets for 10$ US, and sat in the second row. I just came home and the cab fare was $4/person. It was extravagant for me but it was great to get to know these women--they are really out and about a lot. The woman from Minnesota's husband is coming at the end of the month--sounds like a real interesting and eccentric guy. I think there are a lot of people that Tim will like here.
While waiting to get into the theater a very elderly looking old man in very worn cloth asked me where I was from and what University I attended. He had never been to the states, but knew U of M, "Oh yes! Ann Arbor!" and he was a very interesting guy. He is a philosopher and astrologer and was brought to the play by a woman journalist who writes for the Hindu Times, to which I subscribe and had read her column on an art exhibit that morning. We talked and she gave me her card. The man RRR wrote his name and phone number in my little book, and he said, "We are going to have a meaningful relationship--I predict that!" Well you can be sure that I will call him. He has a huge personal library of English books the journalist told me and she brings him to all of the literary events because he is so interested and educated. He had read Moby Dick, which the one man play, The Whale was based on. A 65 minute play of Moby Dick. The actor was a beautiful dancer and actor working with a very spare stage and script. The intensity of the movement and sound was like being on a ship. Do you think Moby Dick is a metaphor of man's struggle with evil, or perceived evil, or with himself, or against nature? Chennai has endless things to do and see. My eyes are popping out.

(The photos start at the bottom to correspond with the text)















































This man is painting on a house. These are spices!



























I bought a bike. It is a great pink Indian model--rides like an old Schwinn. I named it Rosebud. I was a little leary riding it, with the streets, traffic, dogs, cows and my old body, but it's true about what they say about riding a bike and never forgetting. I took it out last Sunday, the day before the kids came to school to practice riding it to school. It's a little over 7km. Down the busy East Coast Road. People are very liberal with their horns here--it's not so much, "Get out of my way," as it's, "I'm here," kind of beep. It's remarkable how everyone shares the road. I turn off on a small side street lined with trees, over the "foot bridge." I heard drumming and singing and came upon a procession going to Temple.

Just before school there is a vendor selling Idols. I stopped to look now that I was on my own, and everyone in the family came running out to see me. I asked if I could take pictures, and more and more people came streaming out for me to take theirs. The one girl especially grabbed my heart. These children don't go to school, but live here on the side of the road.

Riding to school is an easy and pleasant ride. I stopped and bought lunch at a roadside stand--the man gave me a sweet dessert as well. Feeling encouraged, I rode all about--3 hours. Down through different neighborhoods and things seemed much closer to me than when riding in the van. I found several new markets to shop at, a clean beach which I stopped and swam at, and different little "villages." I stopped to watch a group of women play a game. They were spread out on a blanket, and had brass rods with dots carved in the sides. Like dice I think. They would roll them and then move markers on a hand made board. They invited me to sit with them and liked getting their pictures taken. Digitals are so great because they can see them right away, and they would laugh and look again, pointing at each other. The older woman in this photo invited me to come with her to her house and she and I had a cup of tea on her stoop. The children all love to get their pictures taken.


Along the main street is a small temple. The women were outside making small fires and cooking something over them in pans and clay pots. Just down the street is the local Mosque. I hear their call to prayers 4x a day. I don't see any women in Burkas.

Along the road women sit and bind jasmine flowers into garlands. They sell them for 5 R. (about 10 cents.) I commented to my friend Pappu that I thought it was so sad, but she told me that it is a meditation, that each flower is a prayer. The women buy them and wear them in their hair--the smell is enchanting.
I passed flower, fruit, vegetable, pot vendors along the road. Everyone is happy to smile back at me and wave. I love it. The people are so warm and friendly. Everytime I go out people stop me to chat. They are so helpful and non threatening.

My long bike ride led me to a new part of the beach not far from my home. The beach had a lot of people out strolling, kids playing ball. I went swimming in my clothes. The water is cool--about like Bone Lake in August.

I love my bike--it is just the right thing for me to get around on and at a pace that I can see everything and have contact with my surroundings.

I apologize for the reverse order of the photos! I upload them as I write, and they go to the top, but my writing goes down. When Sylvia comes, she can help me with my next lesson.


Tomorrow I will tell about school
Good night dear friends.

Every night I am guarded by my friend Permal. We have tea and breakfast every morning together. We were told by an Indian at school, "You think you are equals with these people, but you are NOT!" I cannot agree with him. I am walking cheerfully over the Earth greeting that of God in everyone--that is equal.


I am wearing toe rings on both toes, because that is what married women do. I also wear a red bindi on my forehead, another sign of marriage.