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Will I ever get it right? I had begun the preliminary editing of my notes for this letter back in March, certain it wouldn't be looming over us just as year-end busyness begins. Fat chance! When I finally started to work on the letter, my computer's hard drive at home began what must be first steps towards disk failure. Oh, well, just a modern version of the quill nib cracking or the inkpot drying up.

Let's, however, get right to the trip, for me probably my most memorable, as it was the first I took with Jessica. Apart from a few more inoculations and medical precautions, preparations for the departure on Christmass Day 1996 were as every year: frantic completion of the year's Advent letter, last-minute plans for changing my reporting relationships at MIT (all to be completely altered while I was away). Claudine arranged for Jessica and me to attend a lecture by a young woman who had toured many third-world locations. It was reassuring to hear that she echoed many of my observations about exploratory travel.

As reminder that, whatever difficulty I might encounter when traveling, many have much more difficult journeys: took the Sacrament to a friend who underwent (successfully) her sixth hip replacement and to another friend (who had been walking to Church with me for decades), now that his declining activity has led him to a nursing home. By contrast, had the joy to greet the new daughter of friends on their return from China.

At MIT, work with a group studying support staff issues led to my becoming co-chair of the public relations committee of that group; started MIT's United Way campaign on greater use of the Internet, the WWW, and e-mail, all to enhance communication among solicitors, donors, and office staff.

Just before leaving MIT on Christmass Eve, discovered on confirming my flights that Korea's Asiana Air, which I was to fly from Seoul down to Saigon, had wiped out my reservation - one happy last- minute task for my agent. Got final packing done, farewell to Jessica, off to the Advent to set up the Christmass day reception and, following a glorious Midnight Mass, over to Logan to wait for a 5:00 a.m. check-in. Numb as I was, I noticed that the agent had checked my luggage through to Hanoi; when I asked why she hadn't indicated Saigon, she replied, "Aren't they the same?"

Though I was completely wiped out from fatigue, thought I'd have good opportunity to sleep during the Pacific leg of the trip. The trip on United across the USA was less than ideal: seems that in the airline's pursuit of profits, they had laid off so many personnel that quite senior office staff had been bumped down to working as flight attendants - not a happy group. Things did start to improve as we approached San Francisco, however: the chief steward came by to apologize for having announced that they would be serving only water to the passengers. The three films over the Pacific assisted in passing the time.

How things changed when I reached Seoul: there were Asiana staff waiting at arrival to take me over to the other terminal for my ongoing flight. Of course, the flight down to Saigon (Ho Chi Minh City) seemed to be over in minutes. Going through customs at Saigon was a bit sticky (had to divert over to the pornography counter to get certification that my Business Week magazine wasn't impure). Began my first day in Saigon looking for a place for Jessica and me. Having wandered a large part of the city, began to despair about finding any thing, then in the afternoon lost my way, found myself facing the Saigon Museum of Art. Across the street was a brand new hotel, the Thien Tung, where they agreed to putting Jessica and me up for our time in Saigon. Though it was clear we'd have to visit the rest of Viet Nam, Saigon has enough to keep us busy for the whole month.

After negotiating with the hotel, went out for dinner, determined to find a place serving pho, Viet Nam's characteristic noodle soup. Saw a restaurant sign with "Pho" in it, realized only after getting a menu that the "Pho" referred to the street name - the restaurant was Italian! Well, the staff there (all Vietnamese) all made me feel so welcome, and the food was so delicious that I already had a favorite restaurant in Saigon. When I transferred over to the Thien Tung Hotel the next day, was enraptured with the sight of the city from my balcony. Also found that the hotel was named after the Thien Tung market place at the head of the street: ~800 vendors in small stalls selling everything imaginable.

It really was bizarre, going off to the airport after breakfast to await Jessica's arrival from Singapore. Fortunately I had shown the cabbie a photo of Jessica: he spotted her in the melee at the entrance. I was amazed at how refreshed she appeared on arrival. Felt quite proprietary about Saigon when we walked along the riverbank after lunch. Of course, had to take her to "my" restaurant for dinner.

Given it's one of the few remaining pure socialist states, individual capitalism is amazingly vigorous. We were amused to note that four youths playing kickball each had one shoe off. Subsequently, at a funeral, noticed that even the monk had one shoe off, as did the bridegroom at a wedding procession. This was constant throughout Saigon, but not elsewhere in Viet Nam. After wandering about the city and doing the tourist thing, came upon the municipal pool, where Jessica did her physical fitness bit and had a vigorous swim: I watched.

It was quite interesting to be sharing the travel experience with Jessica for the first time - a whole new perspective. Seems that, as I tuned in on her perceptions and observations, my own became all the keener; I thus was seeing things I wouldn't have noticed alone. She had the wisdom one day to suggest at lunch that we go our separate ways till supper; this became a regular feature of our travelling. Having the space of occasional time-outs from each other tremendously enhanced our time together.

Having introduced Jessica to my Ciao Cafe, was taken by her on her second day to her find: a tiny sidewalk cafe presided over by three Vietnamese sisters ranging in age from high 70's to low 90's. One spoke only Vietnamese, the second some English, and the third some French. Quite an enjoyable breakfast spot. Well, as we were chatting and luxuriating in the bucolic atmosphere, two disheveled drunks approached; one began to drink Jessica's tea: Wow! It wasn't until several blocks later that we realized the purpose of the subterfuge: a woman approached, handed me my wallet with passport and traveller's cheques intact, but with all the cash gone. I then took to tying my wallet with a cord to my belt; the next time someone picked my pocket, I politely observed that it had already been done; the intended felon smiled and withdrew.

From the ridiculous to the sublime: it being New Year's eve, went for a haircut. For less than the tip for a cut in Boston, had the shop manager and two assistants fussing over my head for 80 minutes. So wonderful was that experience that I've already searched on the 'Net for a barber in Vientiane, found one just a block from my intended hotel for the 31st of this month (more on that later). Can't you see a book developing? Barbers I've Known throughout the World!

Where, of course, would we spend our New Year, but at the Ciao Cafe? The staff had set aside a central table for us, right next to four crewmen from an Indian tanker - the three Indians and one from Goa, along with our Vietnamese family and outstanding Italian pizza made my first New Year with Jessica in 28 years uniquely memorable.

We began the New Year with a two-hour velo ride to visit an outstanding temple; two hours of wandering around lesser temples and consulting with natives led us to realize that the directions originally given were wrong. In fact, it seems a common phenomenon worth noting to any considering visiting in Viet Nam: when you ask a native to show you how to get to a place you've indicated on a map, they want to be helpful and will give you directions - even if they are completely unfamiliar with what the map is intended to present. The trip did lead, however, to our witnessing three velo/car/truck smash-ups - given the apparent chaotic pace of traffic in Saigon, they were the first accidents we had seen - doubtless a result of over-celebration of the New Year. In fact, crossing streets takes a bit of getting used to: there are no traffic lights nor conventional crosswalks. One simply begins crossing a street at a constant pace, trusting that the bicyclists, velo cabs, cars, trucks, and busses will swerve to avoid you. It actually works, though I wouldn't want to test the technique on Fifth Avenue.

It was touching when we brought flowers for the hotel proprietor, she had put aside little gifts for us, making us feel right at home.

We were lucky to find the office for the Reunification Express Train (which we had heard is a neat way to get up to Hue and on to Hanoi) right around the corner from our hotel. It turned out to be a two day process: standing in a few lines, explaining our intent, being escorted back to a private office (official with one shoe off); countless unintelligible phone conversations between officials, finally production of tickets with the itinerary we intended.

Further highlights of the new year were trips to the zoo (seeing an ill alligator being transported on a velo from the zoo cage towards the veterinary hospital!) and the botanical garden, coming accidentally upon the historical museum, where we saw a water puppet show (having heard the water puppets were only in Hanoi - where they were indeed more spectacular, but lacked the intimacy of the quaint theater in Saigon).

As Claudine was visiting in Brussels at the time, Jessica called her with a phone card from a street telephone - really remarkable, immediate and clear connection from Saigon to Brussels with a state- of-the-art telephone - instructions in your choice of languages in the telephone's video display!

Did get into a bit of a discussion with Jessica about directions; anywhere else, I would have laughed at her suggestion that the map might be wrong; here, however, this was possible: our two maps disagreed in many details. There was a basic difference in our way of navigating, however: I had a compass strung about my neck and spent my time comparing street signs, maps, and cardinal points; Jessica looked in each direction and decided which way felt right. Our experience: about 50-50.

It was exciting and fascinating to eat each meal at a different sidewalk "cafe" (really just several pots over charcoal fire, a few stools, miscellaneous dinnerware, and a typically rotund cook whose age changed in inverse proportion to her number of teeth. Jessica would carefully point out which vegetables, meats, rice, we wanted; each time the matron of the feast would smile agreeably and proceed to serve us what she thought we should have. I had early on become quite content with Pho; after two days of it, Jessica was looking for new challenges.

For a bit of a change we went to a quite upscale sidewalk cafe - the chairs had backs on them. We sat for 20 minutes, waiting for the serving people to approach - no way. When in Viet Nam, do take the initiative: the residents will always defer, not presuming to approach you!

We arranged two excursions out of Saigon: one day a bus/boat trip down through the Mekong Delta; once there, we saw that the waterside life style well merited a few days' stay - next time. In fact, the people of the Mekong Delta are almost totally boat-bound; though they might have residences on land, the whole families spent their entire waking day on sea, whether fishing or plying commerce or transportation. We were amused on a boat down the Mekong to My Tho to be with people from Oklahoma, Norway, Netherlands, Germany, Great Britain, and Vietnam. Back to Saigon, we culminated our plunge into Vietnamese culture at our Ciao Cafe, with a dinner of spaghetti frutti de mare, salade verte, vegetarian pizza, and chocolate ice cream. Does the word, eclectic, come to mind?

Another day we went in the morning to the Holy See of the Bao Dai faith, a sort of syncretism of Buddhism, Confucianism, Taoism, Muslim, and Pentecostal Christianity. Its devotees had come to great power throughout the Mekong delta, with real political and police force, sustained by confiscatory taxes on the population. The unification of Viet Nam ended the political power, but there continue numerous faithful in a temple whose enthusiastic use of colors, motifs, and designs would provide excellent inspiration for the Disney folk if they ever decide to abandon their traditional style. Whatever the faith of the devotees, it was awesome to see them come in very specific order into the temple, measured row following measured row, the hundreds of devotees intoning a hypnotic chant whose foreign language little detracted from the clear religious focus of the faithful.

Then, in the afternoon, towards the Cambodian border, where we came upon the Co Chi tunnels: through these tunnels the Viet Cong had been able to travel many miles from Cambodia to the outskirts of Saigon undetected. And these weren't simple one-level tunnels: they went down several layers, had hospitals, living quarters, cooking rooms, and all the accoutrements necessary for a life completely out of sight, really remarkable. It brought home just how vicious and intractable the guerilla warfare was. On that point, however, I must observe that I found very few Vietnamese who wanted to focus on the war of twenty-five years ago; throughout Vietnam the people want to get on with their lives, expending so much energy in this pursuit that they have little time or patience with the battles of a former time.

I, who never drink tea, found it almost impossible to bypass the receptionist at our hotel: they had installed a technologically fantastic hot water geyser and insisted on our every entry or departure that we partake of a cup of tea which, because we were so special, wasn't the typical Vietnamese tea, but genuine Lipton's tea in tiny little tea bags, imported all the way from the US of A! Well, having been caught one afternoon, I was sitting in the lobby consuming the requisite cup of tea when the receptionist called to me: he was disconcerted that he was unable to read one of the twenty postcards I had just given him, as I had written that one in French. Thenceforth, I was careful to post my non- English cards elsewhere, so the receptionist could have a carefree time of practicing his English!

One evening we had our only bad episode with a restaurant: as there were no prices on the menu, the staff attempted to get us to provide a little extra foreign aid; thereafter, a restaurant without prices on the menu did without us. That negative experience was more than redeemed by a coffee shop with sesame and rich chocolate flavors of ice cream. Jessica (who had spent the year before the trip paying special attention to physical fitness) was rewarded when a sweet Vietnamese lady told her she was "like a Vietnamese woman, not too big."

Invited by the three sisters to Sunday Mass, we were amazed at how full the church was, with devout of all ages and backgrounds. Of course, the Vietnamese habit continued: women on one side of the church, men on the other. Our last evening, our favorite Italian (!) restaurant gave us quite a send-off.

Our last day in town, Jessica not being the photo bug I am, she went off to shop while I wandered all over Saigon, photographing scenes we had been noting all around the city. Jessica wanted to post some of the things we wouldn't be needing further on the trip, did up two packages really well, after we had quite a time to find wrapping paper and twine. As it turns out, that was wasted effort. We went over to the postoffice, were directed to the special office for foreign packages; it was closed for midday. After lunch we returned, stood rather patiently in a line: that was to be but the first of eight we had to endure! First line: unwrap the packages; second line, validate the addresses; third line, make sure the texts are not deprecatory about Viet Nam; another for weight, another for repackaging, another for sealing, and finally one for paying and one for posting. Well, there's one way to address unemployment: each line, by the way, charged a fee of a few cents.

Leaving our newfound friends at the Thien Tung Hotel, we were off to the train station in the evening. We shared our cabin with a Vietnamese couple (no common language except signs and smiles), they in the upper berths, we below. It's good we had an air-conditioned car, for it seemed every male in the train smoked incessantly. Dinner was served airline-style, a chicken congee. With 21 hours till arrival at Hue, we amused ourselves to witness the ever-changing geography and architecture of the land as we moved North-wards.

The trip continued without incident, somewhat dull, as the Vietnamese couple left the train at Dieu Tran. I did get back to an open-window wagon, so that I could get photos of the fantastic countryside, rice paddies, farms, villages, water buffalo as we passed. We got a breakfast (beef, rice, coffee, cabbage, sandwich, beer) at 11:00.

Jessica apparently adopted little friends from the bedding on the train; a treatment in Hue got her temporary guests evicted. Once arrived at Hue, the Lonely Planet guide was right on the mark: the former Soviet troop quarters just a few blocks from the train station had been turned into a serviceable (though not up to Ritz standards) hotel for our two nights there. Luckily for me (but to Jessica's despair), we found a neat "food court" stall serving my beloved pho right at riverside.

Met some Hanoi natives at the hotel; their description of their home increased my eagerness to get there. Up early in the morning to begin a tour. Though we booked a car and guide for the whole day to several of the historic tombs of Hue, it began raining so hard at noontime that we interrupted to tour for lunch back at the hotel. Again, the guidebook was right on the mark: it had stated that, when the rest of Viet Nam is dry, Hue is raining, and vice versa. So be it. At least Hue validated our having packed rain gear for the trip. As we came down the stairs from one of the tombs, the rain was falling so fiercely that it looked as if we were in the middle of a waterfall.

We dried out sufficiently after lunch to be able to continue the tour of the Citadel (where Westmoreland's barrage had been centered), the museum and the Thien Mu Pagoda. At this latter site (whence had come the monk who immolated himself as protest against the war, in a photo famous around the world) Jessica and I stood transfixed as thirty monks, from pre-teen through adult, paced around their sanctuary, intoning hypnotic mantras. Time stood still: we were amazed when we went back to the car that we had been watching/listening for over a half hour.

The people of Hue were much more reserved than those in Saigon, not as caught up with modernity and progress, much more traditional. A unique dining experience that night: a "hot pot" restaurant, at which the food is served raw so the guests cook it over their own table stove. Something like fondue cooking, but with hot stew rather than with oil.

Went to the Minh Man temple via pedicab 10 km from Hue. Though I don't have quite Jessica's kind heart, we both got down from our pedicabs as we approached especially steep hills and walked alongside our pedalers. Though I agree that a few dollars for half a day of pedaling is not much, it's infinitely more than what little can be earned by former South Vietnamese soldiers who have no identity cards and can find no legitimate work. The Minh Man temple complex was the most notable of our tours in Viet Nam, a multitude of buildings now being restored in painstaking detail, with vistas across the mountains and man-made lake with a heavenly peace all around.

We got into a bit of a dispute with the guy ferrying us across the river about the agreed-upon fare. I was impressed with the pluck Jessica displayed as she won the dispute.

On the train up to Hanoi, we got into conversation with a French tour guide. He noted that he had a brother working at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston, was going to be on holiday with his mother in Egypt later in the winter. Thus, six months later, when Claudine introduced Jessica to a Frenchman in Boston, noting that he worked at the MFA, both he and Claudine were astounded to hear Jessica say, "I hope you enjoyed your visit in Egypt with your mother!"

The train up to Hanoi was fine; we had the compartment to ourselves, with neither Vietnamese nor wee bedding friends to share our coach.

On the train, we did come upon a couple (brother Barry and sister Victora) from Liverpool, neat couple. Because they were observing kosher, I gave them all that was left of my bread and cheese, as they couldn't eat what the train offered. I'll be curious to hear how Barry fared through his subsequent three months through China!

As soon as we arrived at Hanoi in the morning we went right from the train to Queen's Cafe as directed by Lonely Planet on the WWW, which directed us to the hotel Hanh Phuc/Dong Xuan. If for nothing else, our trip was validated by the special time we were given at this hotel. Three boys, the oldest 18, comprised the hotel staff (supplemented by an older night watchman, all four of whom slept on the hotel lobby's floor). Besides room and board, they receive $30 per month, with a whole week's vacation after two years. As harsh as this might seem in the West, all of the boys have come down from the hill villages to make their future in the big city.

Hanoi is a much less modernized city than Saigon, with very narrow twisting streets and little of the infrastructure development found in the South. Also, every morning, loudspeakers from each street corner blare out the latest good news from the government. We were told that similar messaging had been begun in the South, but had been rebelled against. Also, Hanoi seems much less prosperous than Saigon, with the people more reserved. The children here are so precious and generally happy, with their fathers taking enormous pride in them and actively participating in their upbringing.

After a good sleep, Jessica and I went out for breakfast, walked to the Mausoleum of Ho Chi Minh, got there just in time before noon closing. In that overwhelming marble monument the father of united Viet Nam is kept comfortably air-conditioned. Then on to the rustic house where he had lived and worked, and the palace of the Governor. Amusing that a few blocks away from this memorial to an old hero is the Internet Cafe, where one can connect with the world. Quite by accident, we came upon the Temple of Literature from the ninth century, where we heard a concert of classical Vietnamese music.

Then went to Queen's Cafe to make reservations for Ha Long Bay. Lest it appear we're always going to one cafe or another: these coffee shops are in fact the center of the tourist trade in Viet Nam: great lists of various tours are mounted on the walls (surrounded by penned evaluations of the tours by previous participants). You sign up, pay, and show up at the cafe at the appointed time (unless you arrange for hotel pickup).

In the evening, Jessica and I went out for an extraordinary supper at a restaurant quite near the hotel, which happily became our favorite. Now, I don't want to start mentioning good and poor deals, but will note that the two of us ate three courses, with beverage, with total bill of $1.20 (and, we were to find out later, when young shoeshine boys who adopted us did the negotiating for food, we were paying double what the natives paid!). Our concern before beginning the trip - reading that the food in Hanoi is much more expensive than that in Saigon!.

Our two-day excursion up to Ha Long Bay began with 5:00 wake-up, boarding a coach with the group which was to be with us for two days - 21 people from 10 countries. One of the others on the tour noted that, two years before, the drive up to Ha Long Bay had taken twelve hours on very poor roads - we now sped along brand-new highways in five hours - a sign of the incredible progress the country is making. After luncheon, a boat trip through spectacular rock formations which cause the islands to appear as a lunar landscape. The end of the trip was accompanied by something I had never seen: as the sun set, it appeared to be rolling down the side of one of the island mountains, finally plunging into the orange sea.

Such a group of people on tour! Though they were each rather pleasant and interesting, my commitment to solo traveling is understandable: impossible to keep all twenty happy all the time.

After the tempest in Hue, was interested to learn that there had been no rain in Ha Long for 2 months. The great spectacle of Ha Long Bay continued on the second morning from 6:00. Seeing the sun rise over the sea from the East explains how some believe the Bay to be the eighth wonder of the world.

Once arrived back in Hanoi, we went in the evening to the Water Puppet show, got the last two tickets of the evening. It was more fantastic than at Saigon, not so intimate. We had supper at the lake which is the centerpiece of Hanoi, a larger version of Boston's duck pond.

Then a major expedition to three different offices to confirm our ongoing flight to Hong Kong. Then visited the Hanoi Hilton - quite an emotional experience [it's where U.S. airmen were imprisoned during the war] - though the whole block is under reconstruction for a new Hilton (happily to be called, not the Hanoi Hilton, but the Opera Hilton), plain-clothes police are all about to prevent picture taking.

As I had been looking forward to changing rooms at our hotel as soon as a front room was available, was delighted on returning home that evening to find that the boys had moved my room from rear to front, with such attention to detail that every item had been placed in the same relative place in the new room as in the old. A blind person would not have lost their way with the change. What guys! The new room afforded me a balcony over the market, at night a sleepy crooked warren of lanes, but from 3:00 a.m. the tables are beginning to appear, and by 5:00 a.m. the whole bustling market with its sounds and sights and smells is in full swing. I could in fact have spent the whole time in Hanoi on my balcony with my telephoto lens photographing the kaleidoscope of local life that bubbled in the street below.

I came upon really interesting paintings and lacquerware in souvenir shops, spending a day wandering around with Jessica to find silk shops. Found a special shop - Artjka - dedicated to returning the ancient techniques of art in modern works. There, the proprietor showed me an ad he was preparing for Western tourists. Though I intuited what he was trying to communicate with his English, suggested a few changes. Ended up sitting at his computer for a few hours translating the several pages into vernacular English. Really fell in love with two lacquered Ying & Yang bas relief wall carvings; the shop gave me a neat discount for having done the translating. Of course, it would necessitate my getting an additional suitcase for the carvings, but well worth it.

Jessica being toured out (quite understandably), it was agreed she'd mellow out in Hanoi for a few days while I went up on excursion to the stilt house Hmong village at Mai Chau. She also was going to take a look at my bas reliefs as a reality check, and do some souvenir shopping. We were finally feeling quite well oriented in Hanoi: the center city is about the same size as Boston, easy to negotiate on foot (though it would be easier if street names didn't change every other block and if house #s were incremental.

With an excellent guide, we were twelve passengers, going up into the Western mountains to quite rugged terrain. Once there, we had an extraordinary tour on foot - the most exciting of my trip to Viet Nam - more photos than I had previously taken. Unable to get a group of Hmong villagers to perform for us in the evening in our stilt house, our guide arranged for them to come at breakfast. These stilt houses are unique: one great room on 6-foot poles up over where the cattle, pigs, and chickens live, the room being divided by curtains into a kitchen, a dining-sitting area, and a sleeping area. Each of us had a floor mat and covering (though even in the winter night it was quite warm.

On our way back to Hanoi stopped for lunch, had unique rice flour pancakes filled with dog meat - a specialty with the local tribe.

Once back for the last few days in Hanoi, met the two shoe shine boys who for a week had been watching out for Jessica as she did her daily jog around the lake, helped her navigate the streets, told her which of the beggars were reputable or not. They were perhaps as honored as I was delighted when Jessica finally brought us together for luncheon. These two 14-year-old from the hills worked all day for their two dollars daily subsistence. Lacking identity cards, as their fathers had fought for the South, it was most unlikely the lads had any promising future, but what wonderful, honorable, gracious guides they were for Jessica and me in Hanoi!

On Sunday, Jessica, our boys, and I went for breakfast and walked around the lake. The three were off to rollerskating while I went to the Cathedral for Mass. As in Saigon, the service was packed with enthusiastic worshipers. Found it a bit unusual that the processional music was Wagner's Wedding March!

With the additional suitcase we were able to pack all of our souvenirs and gifts; really distressed us to have to leave all our new friends behind. Our ride out to the airport was quite somber until we were engaged by an altercation as the cabbie attempted to bypass the toll booth and was pursued by alarming police cars. Customs and immigration at the airport were carefree; as on arrival, it appears all of the forms are required because the big nations require them. as had happened with our health declarations at arrival, the departure customs declarations were dumped pell-mell into a pile, without so much as a glance from the officials.

As we arrived at Hong Kong earlier than scheduled, our hope that we would miss a tight ongoing connection and have to overnight in Hong Kong was dashed. We were happy, however, at how smoothly everything went.

Quite uneventful return to Boston and work, though the full fury of winter waited till April Fool's Day to give us our biggest April storm in history and the biggest storm of the season.

Shortly after getting back to the office, learned that I'd be working primarily for the director of academic computing. Now I had my challenge: a great visionary with more realization of the potential for the contribution of electronic technology to education than possessed by most people. Some of the details of organization, time and space he happily left to people with more mundane sensitivities. Thus, when a family situation necessitated his return to Madras for a few months, I had unique opportunity to get his office organized.

Also, he was chairing a northeast regional academic computing conference; I had opportunity to be a quick study on how to resolve conflicts, find supplies, coordinate 300+ attendees and 50+ vendors in a conference lasting through three packed days. One benefit: the conference being way west of Boston, I was able to observe the Hale-Bopp comet's show with a clarity not available in Boston. Of course, on his return to Boston, the boss noted that all was in such good order that he couldn't find anything - there's more than one way for me to get job security. It has been a phenomenal alliance for me: never have I had such a sense of contributing to a valid effort here at the Institute.

Also at MIT, involvement with the Working Group on Support Staff Issues made me aware of resources available to those seeking to improve their perspective and interpersonal actions. I began working in this area, have been astounded to find that my perspectives can change, even as I approach my sixth decade.

The Parish of the Advent has come upon its most irenic period since I began coming to it four decades ago. With all of the clergy, for the first time, changing within six months, I've been delighted to find that on the matters which import, the other clergy are of a mind, and that that mind is as mine. Further, the Parish has just been notified that a legal action begun by dissidents three years ago has been thrown out by the Court with the observation that internal church governance is the proper matter for church courts, not for the State.

The Co-op where I've now been living for fifteen years has decided to have a major engineering study and long-range capital improvement plan undertaken, just as I had suggested when I moved in (patience, David!). We doubtless will be able to finance much of the work to be done with the savings from our new mortgage, with the potential for an even more advantageous mortgage in the offing.

Though Brown continues in a dormant state for me, as far as fund raising goes (remember that they wisely decided that only those at a certain giving level could seek money for the school), I keep in touch through interviewing applicants. We're just coming to a new president at Brown; he might have my perspective on fundraising.

An unhappy legacy from my time in Vietnam: there I began getting itches and hives; a battery of tests here in Boston proved that allergies are elusive; though we didn't find the cause, a period of medication ended the itching.

Back from Vietnam for a few months, Jessica and I were looking at some of the slides of our trip. May I observe for those of you who haven't had the event: the three weeks Jessica and I spent alone together in a strange new place are without question among my happiest memories. We got to know each other as never before. I'll not soon forget her observing on many occasions, "The map must be wrong!", or, when I started making observations about some arcane bit of knowledge, "Papa, you have too much free time!" Altogether, a priceless legacy from Viet Nam.

The people in charge of our part of MIT decided that it would be well if we administrative/finance types became self-governing. This started six months of meetings, sixteen people committing about four hours every week to very careful and thoughtful discussions of how we might effect the desired self-governing model. Then, just as we were coming up with a viable plan to which we had all contributed and become committed, we were told to put the work aside: there were more important matters to occupy us.

I was appointed to work with the Institute's Medical Consumers' Advisory Council, which brings together a few dozen people from all facets of MIT's family for discussion about how health care might be better delivered, this just as we were undergoing the agony of dealing with the alcohol-induced death of a student.

Had two specially meaningful baptisms in the Spring: the couple who had brought their new baby from China at Christmass had Michaela Huang Ying baptized in the Easter Vigil Liturgy at the Advent, and my niece Jill and Joe welcomed their new daughter Justine (Jessica's God-daughter) into the faith.

Jessica having committed to participating in the AIDS benefit bicycle ride to New York in September, I was happy to work with her in organizing a fund-raising benefit. Though I couldn't see myself going on the three-day ride to New York, we've talked of my possibly volunteering to help with some of the ancillary functions next year.

I did get to volunteer for my sort of activity: a local hospital is one of four national centers involved in studying the effects of diet on hypertension. I went through the screening and was found to have sufficiently normal blood pressure, etc., to be able to participate in the controlled eating exercise for fourteen weeks when I return from this Winter's trip. This isn't a medication study, simply looking at how salt variations will effect blood pressure. It does mean that I'll be having every supper at a local hospital, and will eat only such other food as the hospital prepares for me.

Another study, this one with my dentist, is a five-year examination of the efficacy of a new cementing method for dental implants. We all hear of the advances of science and medicine: they cannot continue unless we are willing to help out.

I had decided that this Winter's trip will be to Viet Nam's eastern neighbor, Laos. However, as Laos has not made quite as much progress in modernization, it was a real challenge for my travel agent and me to be able to engineer the trip. In order to be able to get a visa from Laos, had to agree to a formal tour package for the first five days of my sejour; the rest of the time, I'll be free to wander with my wits and the wisdom provided by the Lonely Planet guidebook and insights gleaned from the world wide web.

As always, I'll be celebrating Christmass with Jessica and Claudine in Boston (Mum wisely already having gotten to Florida to escape winter's rigors), the off to Logan for the thirtieth Christmass departure for a new country. You might say I'm making a bit of a habit of it.

And, yes, the hard disk failure which I noted at the beginning of the letter is complete; all the data on my computer at home is gone. Happily, I had somehow become an early and dedicated advocate of careful backing up of all data, was able to recover all but the last five minutes of my input from that now dead system. To paraphrase: back up early and back up often!

For those of you with new life in your families, rejoice as we recall the Coming to us; for those who have endured the agony of losses, may the hope and love of this Christmass assuage some of your pain. And, whatever your circumstance as you read these lines, please accept my fond best wishes that you may have a blessed Christmass and a New Year of joy.