A catamaran is a sailing vessel with two hulls. The word catamaran, incidentally, comes from the Tamil word kattumaram meaning “tied wood.” Although originally the double-hulled design was met with much skepticism because it was based on geometry rather than physics, the concept is now widely used due to its speed, stability and ability to carry large loads.
Monday, April 8, 2013
As I mentioned in an earlier blog, Charlie celebrated her birthday here in India. Around the same time, we had the pleasure of joining two other birthday celebrations: Sunil and Patient Zero’s. Each birthday celebration was different and highlighted variances in how people celebrate birthdays in various parts of the world.
Easter Sunday was the source of many fond memories for me. I was too young to fully grasp the real reason my family celebrated Easter, but not too young to enjoy some family traditions. Easter Sunday meant sitting on my grandparent’s couch while my grandfather read the cousins Prince Bertram the Bad or Sir Kevin of Devon while the aunts and uncles hid brightly colored eggs around the yard. (If I had any say we would read Prince Bertram the Bad every time. I felt some sort of deep-seated connection to Prince Bertram. I felt he was so misunderstood. We were kindred spirits, I was sure of it. But I digress. That is another story for another day…) When I was a bit older and had some measure of fashion awareness (although, after a cursory glance at me, some might argue that I have never gained fashion awareness), Easter Sunday meant we could wear white shoes and our new dresses.
This was my Easter in India. Every year on Easter, CMC conducts a sunrise worship service. This chapel service is not held in an ornately decorated cathedral, or even in a modest chapel topped with steeple and spire. It is held on the natural amphitheater halfway up College Hill.
Every year the residents of Fitch Hostel host what they call “Hostel Day.” There are a number of hostels on the CMC college campus, but the Fitch Hostel residents have a special place in my heart. They are the young ladies of CMC who are studying to become physios and occupational therapists. Over the past three months I have had the pleasure, nay, the honor of working alongside many of the beautiful women of Fitch Hostel.
Friday, April 5, 2013
If someone asks me what languages I speak, I have to admit that I only speak one: English. If I’m trying to impress I will claim that I know bits and pieces of other languages but that usually just ends me up in a tangled mess of prevarication. However, after living in southern Indian for three months I feel I can proudly boast another language: English… Indian style.
Unlike other trips we had been on, this trip was planned without agenda. Our goal was to relax and enjoy. We had things in mind that we wanted to see: Paradise beach, the French Quarter, and maybe a little shopping, but our main goal was to enjoy a calm weekend with friends. Which is exactly what we did…
Our first order of business upon arriving in Pondicherry was to locate our accommodations and freshen up before setting out to see the city. After negotiating a fair price, we clambered into an auto and headed off to the French Quarter. Our hotel, Les Hibiscus, was simple yet elegant and exactly what we had hoped to escape to. At first the proprietor tried to tell us that there were no vacancies at the hotel, even after we told him who we were and that we had confirmed reservations. He soon pulled out his booking records in effort to prove to us that he had no room, which in turn, allowed us to point out our names in his book as the two who had filled his vacancies. Once confirmed, we were warmly welcomed and led through the lounge, out the side door, up a tight spiral stairway and eventually to our respective rooms.
Wednesday, April 3, 2013
They say that "getting there" is often the best part of the journey, or that "it's not about the destination but the journey." I'm not sure if "getting there" was really the best part of the journey for us, but it was the most entertaining. It was the "getting there" that gave me yet another reason to love this country. Where else can one have such strange and entertaining experiences on a bus?