Click home to get up to Hogarth's home page; click travel to get up to index of Hogarth's trips. These notes last changed 16 December 1998

Let's cross our fingers, folks: it looks like I'm a few days ahead of last year's pace in preparing this note and year-end things in general. And that, on top of the mildest Winter so far that I recall. Until a few days ago, in fact, the record heat had me fearing that I had no reason to head south for my 31st New Year in a new land.

Not to fear, the cooling has begun, that while the Co-op where I live is in process of replacing all of the glass doors/windows; as the construction is experiencing normal delays, I expect my departure will be from a home appearing as if one of this year's hurricanes had returned. More on that renovation work in a bit.

First, of course, I want to get to last year's ending and the beginning of my second trip in a row to Indochina. As I was scanning my notes, I found it curious that almost all of the themes that were to preoccupy me through this past year were already present at the end of 1997:

Had preliminary conversations with the folk at a local hospital about becoming part of a 3-month study of the effects of diet on blood pressure; a few exams later, I was accepted for the study, to begin the day after my return from Laos. Though I had more dental work, it was now as part of a trial of a new method of dental implantation.

Was involved in preparation for the move of 160 Information Systems people from various sites around MIT's' campus to a building being completely renovated for us. Had fun getting a WWW presence up for MIT's United Way campaign.

Did clerical work (the typing kind, not the Godly stuff) assisting Jessica as she continued work towards her licensing as a Nurse Practitioner.

Continued rewarding involvement at the Parish of the Advent as we worked towards regularizing our relationship with the Diocese.

There were a few novel experiences just before year end: twice in a row I locked myself out of my home and had to call a locksmith - you can be sure I now have stashed spare keys to my home with a diligence to challenge the most intrepid squirrel.

Thanksgiving was a bit different last year: rather than everyone descending on Mum for her habitual feast, Jessica had twelve of us in to her home for the day. How wonderful it was to have to go but one flight up to get home (totally stuffed) from that feast! Was delighted to see Mum return to her and Dad's practice of going to Daytona Beach; though she missed being with the family for year-end, she could be in no better place for the harshest two months of New England's winter.

Then, at the Service of Lessons and Carols, for the first time was invited to read one of the lessons. Having heard King's College broadcast of their parallel service for many years, I daresay the choir at the Advent takes no second place here.

One Sunday, while presiding over the Sherry Hour, I was told that a glass I had just poured was water. Sure enough - the sherry bottle was filled with water. As if that weren't bad enough, when I checked the sealed cases of sherry in the Parish's wine cellar, found that an intrepid church mouse had [inverting our Lord's first miracle at the wedding at Cana] diligently, over the course of several months, opened several cases, replaced the sherry with water, and resealed them. We've now made the wine closet a bit more secure.

Then, just as it appeared all was in order for my coming trip to Laos, was informed that I would be unable to get a Laotian visa unless I booked a tour with a Laotian travel agency. Ended up booking a five-day tour up to the northern part of Laos, so it wasn't a complete loss, but it was a foretaste of what was coming - turns out that the head of the private tour agency that got this business in Vientiane is married to a senior Laotian official. The more things change...

Christmass Eve brought a few more novelties: Claudine prepared a wonderful feast for Jessica and me, as well as for Jessica's friend Alexander and his parents and sister. I was sorry to have to dart off right after dinner for the Midnight Mass, but it was glorious. A brand new set of vestments, as well as a magnificent golden metal-covered Evangelarium (look it up), from which I got to proclaim the Gospel of our Lord's birth, probably one of the highest moments of my life at the Advent. The Vicar had us all over to his home for a collation following Mass; last minute packing found me still up hours later.

Again, Jessica saved the day, waking me on Chrsitmass Day for breakfast with Alex, her, and his family. Neat Belgian pancakes prepared by Alex fortified me for the beginning of the trek to Laos.

The trip to Vietnam with Jessica had been so special for me, she was a bit concerned that I'd miss her company, gave me a Teddy Bear she had made; Ours - as he was immediately named - fit conveniently into my jacket pocket, was of unanticipated benefit to me as I journeyed: each airport agent, in-flight attendant, and government official was so taken when I described how and why Ours had ended in my pocket, they were especially nice to me (giving me an extra seat on the plane for us to stretch out, extra snacks enroute, etc). I don't know whether they thought it strange a nearly 60-year-old was carrying a Teddy bear; but he worked perfectly for me; I shan't leave home without him this year! I can see the results of this practice starting a fad: every grown male on every flight will have a Teddy bear sticking out of his jacket pocket!

The flight from Boston was without complication, but with a second-hand reunion: the people next to me were parents of an AFS (American Field Service, through which I went to Belgium in 1955) alumna, who had been an exchange student from Holyoke to France 15 years earlier (remember this when we come to the end of the trip).

Realized when we got to the west coast how poorly I had packed this year; many of the things I would normally have put in hand baggage (e.g. addresses, aspirin) were in checked luggage.

Again at Los Angeles, the Thai Air attendant cottoned to Ours, gave us four seats across for the long flight over the big pond. Had I not come upon so many interesting people for that segment, could have stretched out for a good long sleep. As it turned out, a student from MIT and his family were adjacent, returning to India. He being a computer science major, we chattered almost endlessly.

Six meals and three movies made short shrift of the trans-Pacific flight. Came down to Kyoto Airport for the first time: a brand new airport built over water, it was incredibly efficient, clean, and sterile; as an equipment failure delayed our onward flight to Bangkok by over an hour, anticipated the result: I made the connecting flight to Laos only because the crew had me be the first to debark at Bangkok; I literally ran through the terminal to get to the connecting flight. Also, when we finally arrived in Vientiane, the luggage didn't make it (one more reason to be careful to pack all necessities in carry-on luggageL. Again for that leg, however, Ours had his own seat in a nearly full plane.

The guide who was to lead me on the prearranged tour which I had been forced to purchase met me at the airport, would be accompanying me throughout the five days; though sweet and friendly, not terribly fluent in English, and started with the mistaken notion that I wanted to be done with each leg of the tour as promptly as possible; took a while for me to slow him down. As I was constantly giving him facts about Laotian history and culture from my Lonely Planet guidebook, at the end of the tour gave him funds so he could purchase his own copy and perhaps be a more rewarding guide.

Once at my hotel after 36 hours enroute, was barely able to stay awake, but was plunged immediately into a half-day tour of Vientiane. Happily, knew I'd have much time to tour the city on my own, was not terribly attentive to the tour.

One thing we accomplished on the first day: found a clean and neat guest house with air conditioning to which I'd move after the organized tour. Happily decided to splurge an extra $6 for air conditioning, more to avoid the bugs and dust than for cooling.

After a shower, a good supper, and a solid night's sleep was ready for the early morning flight up to Luang Prabang, the ancient capital of the kingdom of Laos, which has been declared a heritage of humanity by the UN, is being
restored much like Williamsburg. As things began to warm up with my guide (turns out I was but the fifth party he had guided since graduation from college), and as he found me interested in going to the local markets and restaurants rather than the tourist traps, he invited me to join his college classmates for New Year's eve celebrating.

With all the travel and confusion of arrival in Laos, was amazed to find myself touring temples my first full day way up to the north of the country, to be followed by river cruise and sacred caves the following day. I'm finding a population and culture vastly different from last year: very low-key in Laos, much calmer than in Viet Nam. Learned that Vieng, my guide, is the oldest of 6, did university in English. Was happy to find on returning from my first day of touring that my checked luggage had finally caught up with me.

The hotel in Luang Prabang is the former home of one of the princesses of the kingdom; most of the buildings are of French colonial style; guests are served and treated as they would have been during the monarchy. My waiter came up from the capital Vientiane several years ago, hopes his increasing command of English will eventually get him a job as a tour guide. In fact, tourism seems to be the dominant industry in this region.

The boat trip up the Mekong River with my guide and the boatman had me thinking back to a year before, when Jessica and I took a boat cruise down the Mekong at its mouth to visit the minority tribes in Viet Nam. This trip was to the Pak Ou caves, which contained intricately carved Buddhist shrines, discovered by the same Frenchman who discovered Angkor Wat in the 1860's. 240 more stairs to climb! Lunch was in a minority village with six musicians to accompany dining; they were fascinated when I played back my tape recording of their performances of Lao music on traditional instruments. Back at Luang Prabang, visiting the local market - what sights, smells, sounds! - noticed that seated guys here all have one shoe off, just as in Saigon.

Another busy touring day, a bit more vigorous than intended, as the car broke down. National Museum (formerly the royal palace), temples, paper manufactory, minority embroidery. Came by accident on a big minority New Year festival, dancing, singing, games, and colorful costumes. Back in Vientiane on New Year's Eve, had a boat excursion on Namngum Lake, which lake had been created for hydroelectric power for Vientiane province and for sale to Thailand. Also, islands in the new lake were for petty criminals. Lunch being late, had New Year haircut by local barber - he had to call his family and friends to watch him cutting this Falang's [foreigner's] hair, as he had never cut a Westerner's hair before. Then, lunch on the boat with fish, meat, raw vegetables (we'll be hearing about this meal in a week!)

On New Year's day, my formal tour was ended, so I was able to transfer from the tourist hotel to Vannasinh Guest House, found for me by my guide. It was much like the guest houses we had booked in Viet Nam, with a significant difference in industry: in Viet Nam, four young men did all the work; here in Laos, the owner and his wife actively worked on the same size hotel, along with six employees.

Now having my 30th New Year in a new country, was happy to have a rather low-key celebration with the locals, rather than the fancy affair arranged for the tourists. Having now finished with the necessary guided tour, so happy to be on my own for the rest of my time in Laos.

The only real work facing me at the start of the year was getting a visa extension, as the initial visa was only good for two weeks. Of course, had to stand in several successive lines, submit to repeated detailed inspections of my passport and travel documents, but finally got the extension for the planned rest of my tour, once I accidentally left some currency in the passport as it was being passed about.

Because there had been no rain for three months, brown dust is pandemic throughout the city. So glad I got an a/c room, to keep most of the dust out.

When I went to cash traveler's cheques, realized how bad the Asian economy is going: the Lao Kip had decreased 2% in value in one week - learned to cash checks only as needed. Finally got my first real Lao supper: chicken, vegetables stir-fried in soup, side of sticky rice. This meal led me to feeling quite at home in Vientiane.

After attending Mass in a delightful French-language church, started towards the national monument of Lao, the Pha That Luang stupa, but half way there began to experience the traveler's nightmare, known variously as Montezuma's revenge or Trotsky trots; for the occasion coined the term "lousy Lao." It hit with a vengeance, had me listless and sleeping most of two days, until I saw action was necessary if I was to enjoy the rest of my vacation. So, I had opportunity to challenge the guide book dictum that Lao medical care is worst in Asia.

Went over to the United States embassy seeking counsel where to go for medical attention: they sent me to the Australian embassy's clinic, with the admonition that - whatever I did - I should avoid the International Clinic Hospital. Well, the Aussies refused to treat a tourist. Had no choice but to go to the taboo clinic. Was I ever pleased: as soon as I got there, intake told me I had lost my electrolytes (never knew I had any to lose), would need intravenous salt replacement. Well, I looked at every needle, scrutinized every liquid or pill they popped into me. All needles were single use; all med's fresh. As the three-hour infusion of saline flowed into me, I could feel my forces coming back.

Happily, lab results showed that I probably had no continuing crisis (what's a little e coli infection to an experienced traveler?), was able to continue with my trip. I don't recommend such a course to anyone, but was delighted to find the staff at the International Clinic as competent and caring as any I'd find Stateside. In fact, after it was over, learned that a fruit basket was the normal Lao method of thank you, picked up a huge one. When I arrived at the Clinic, the receptionist said, "Oh, Mr. David, are you sick again?" When she saw the basket, rushed to get the chief surgeon, as no Westerner had ever thanked the staff there so happily.

With my newfound energy, visited several wats (temples). Heard the tinkle of a bell: monks gathering for worship? No: an orange-clad novice reached into his orange bag and pulled out a cell phone. Finally learned to stay indoors 11:30-2:00 as the Lao's do, to escape the noon heat.

Though Vientiane is a rather large city, Vieng (my guide from the beginning of the trip) came over to my guest house between tour assignments: he had heard I was ill, came by to check on how I was doing.

I did arm myself with a little sign in Lao, "No raw vegetables," as it's most probable the native meal I had had on New Year's eve on Namngum Lake was the source of my infection. Was glad to be free to plunge back in ad lib to Lao food, and to have the energy to enjoy it.

Set out to get the bus ticket to Savannaket in the south of Lao, with a map from my Guest House. Unfortunately, the map had mislabeled North & South. Happy accident: stumbled upon the Evening Market, having previously only enjoyed the Morning Market. Both are the typical far Eastern market of several hundreds of stalls; a photographer or shopper could spend their whole vacation in one of these markets. Did find the big difference between the Morning Market and the Evening Market: the former open from 6 am to 6 am, the latter open 6 p.m. to 6 p.m., otherwise identical.

Having enjoyed the market, it finally took me 7 hours, 3 trips, and more patience than I thought I could muster, finally to get a bus ticket for the next morning at 7:00 a.m. Though I felt a certain sense of triumph to have gotten the ticket, was somewhat apprehensive about getting up at 5:00 a.m. for the tuk-tuk to the bus terminal.

Well, in spite of disappearing stations, cancelled schedules, and the characteristic Lao indifference, did get my ticket for the 8:30 bus to Savannaket. Was told it actually leaves 7:00 a.m., ticket said 7:30. Up at 5:00 a.m., tuk-tuk to brand new bus terminal (unknown to my Guest House) at 6:00 a.m., got on the bus; it left as soon as I boarded at 6:30! A rickety local bus, & me the only Falang.

On the bus, got to talking with a Lao born here, who had emigrated to Paris as a child with his family, now returning to marry his Lao sweetheart & settle in his family's rural homestead near Pakse (a town with interesting wats just below Savannaket, that I was thinking to visit as well during this trip). Phone was a fascinating conversationalist: he had been a French paratrooper, is devoutly Buddhist, and could not stand the hectic pace of life in the West.

Phone and I gabbed through the 8 hours to Savannaket. Because it would be another day's bus trip further south to Pakse and not very interesting there, decided to stay two days in Savannaket, return to Vientiane for the rest of my vacation. Happy to have made the bus trip, happy to have finished my plans for the trip. Now have only to amuse myself and rest, without further important tourist agenda. Decided to skip the Plain of Jars, which had been so devastated during the Indochina wars, as other tourists had told me the two-day trip hardly validated seeing a few fields of ancient jars.

Ours came with me to Savannaket, but it is so hot and dusty, he was happy to ride inside the little pocket of my knapsack. He does peek up from there when I'm sleeping, though :)

So glad Jessica had taught me the art of "hanging out" last year, spent two days doing that in Savannaket. At each temple I visited, I was immediately surrounded by the monks and novices, who grilled me with, "who are you, where are you from, what is your work, where are you going" and a multitude of similar questions. One would think them to be lackeys of investigative reporters, or agents for the secret service. Finally, however, did get into lengthy conversation with one of them, asked why they were all so inquisitive. Simple: they wanted to practice their English! Though there's much more to see, I was finally full as a tourist, looking forward to a last week back home in Vientiane. Spent a whole morning in the central market - an explosion of colors, smells, produce, and races. Every Lao is so friendly, sa ba di (hello!) with a big grin, which you must return.

As the bus was scheduled to leave at 7:00 a.m. for my return to Vientiane, we of course left at 6:00 a.m., with the bus quite full (or so I thought). We stopped countless times to pick up, discharge passengers. The 40-capacity bus at any one time had as many as 100 layered on top of each other, along with their voluminous luggage, bags of cement, live chickens, etc. What local color; induplicable, on top of the wonderful landscape: mountains joining Viet Nam on the right, Mekong joining Thailand on the left.

At every stop, hawkers brought BBQ chicken, frog, pigeon, pig on sticks. I happily had brought several bottles of water and safe food. It was a picturesque trip without equal. Happy that I had my room at the Vannasinh Guest House waiting for me. First order of business was, of course, a shower to wash off ten hours of bus dust.

At Mass the next morning, celebrated by the Cardinal of Vientiane, I got there at 7:00 a.m. almost in time for beginning of 7:30 Mass :) The celebrant kindly repeated his Lao Gospel and sermon in French & English. After Mass, I introduced myself; the Cardinal insisted I take a crucifix as his gift; when I told him the vicar of my parish would really like it, he gave me a second. Only last month did I happen to go into the bedroom where I had hung my copy at home: it was glowing in the dark! Turns out the imitation jade plastic is phosphorescent. Garish and crude? Perhaps, but probably one of my most treasured souvenirs.

Then I walked out to Phu That Luang (Lao's most sacred stupa) - hardly anyone there so early in the morning. My typical breakfast is now what I'm told is traditional Lao: a foot-long French baguette (so fresh it's still hot from the baking oven, stuffed with pate, pressed meat, cabbage, cucumber, shaved beef, chili, soy! So good, at less than a dollar per meter!

Since we're talking food, should mention that I found a restaurant in my first week wandering the streets of Vientiane; first time, just a coke at a sidewalk table. However, watching the proprietor preside over his woks and charcoal beds and stew pots, I finally got to pointing to things others were eating, developed a rather advanced sign language with the waiter; eventually, other Falangs saw me sitting there; I'd point on the Lao menu on the wall to what I thought would be a good meal; they ate with a delight mirroring my own. Finally a Lao conversant in English and I put up on a wall blackboard the listing of Lao foods, with a one-line description in English. If ever you're on your way to Vientiane, I'll point out the location of my habitual restaurant - Kay Sone on a map. With the tourist trade I've stirred up there, however, it might become just one more tourist trap.

The Kip continues to plunge, with all Asian currencies: it has now devalued 25% against the dollar in less than three weeks. As the Kip is falling so precipitously, about 10%/week now, I understand why the Guest House proprietor was unwilling for me to settle up my account with him before my trip down to Savannaket: although the room rate is given in dollars, payment must be made in Kip. Finally got them to take all charges through end of my stay

Seems we've come into a bit of a cold spell: the Lao's are all totally bundled up, constantly complaining about the cold: it hasn't gotten above 80F (26C) for a week. Though I'm glad to be bringing souvenirs back for people, I find the shopping/bargaining process unbearable. Well, went to Morning Market for a snack (cardiologist's delight: banana in batter deep-fried - 4 cents each!), stumbled onto a philatelic shop, had a field day picking up choice first day covers from the last two decades. The thing that I find hard to deal with when shopping: as you approach a stall wanting to find a certain item, shopkeepers insist on pushing all of their products in your face. Anyhow, did find the latest TIME magazine VOA and BBC come in very poorly in Lao, so I had little world news. Walked along the Mekong: during the dry season thousands of farmers cultivate very rich soil which is underwater in the rainy season.

Having walked along the Mekong river, visiting the old embassy building from the URSS, now fallen into ruins, staircases collapsing, holes in the roof, clearly being used as a flophouse by homeless folk. Sic transit...

My last big excursion was a bus trip down the Mekong to Friendship Bridge linking Vientiane with Thailand, then on to Buddha Park 20 km. south of Vientiane. So glad to have come to Buddha Park: we now know where Walt Disney got his inspiration for Disney world. Seems this old monk fell into a sink hole into the lap of another monk, spent 2 years in the cave, was inspired to create a syncretism of Buddhism, Hindi, and mythology. Dominating the park is an 80' long reclining Buddha, and a pumpkin which you enter, circle 3 levels of interior dioramas of earth, heaven, & hell, come out on top for an overview of the grounds. Analogous to the Cao Dai sect in southern Viet Nam, but quite more primitive, with no devotees at the site.

On my way back from Buddha Park, discovered behind the Morning Market another market, twice as big, all with native food, produce, goods, more fascinating sights, sounds, smells.

Finally at the point of having done most everything I expected, began wandering off the beaten path, found enclosed villages of minorities with unique architecture & living patterns. These minorities apparently have been persecuted in the past, are now allowed to live their unique life styles in their walled villages, very like the Mao tribesmen I visited in northern Thailand. Though the minority people are quite shy, as soon as I indicated I wished to photograph their children, they proudly made a quick pass at cleaning a dirty face and brushing hair out of eyes; almost always ended up being invited to have tea with them (in fact, such an honor to have tea with a Falang, that they would take out their prized box of Lipton's tea!

Passed a primary school just as kids were out for recess (all in uniform, complete segregation of sexes from 1st grade). All the boys wanted me to take their photo. Of course, had to buy another duffel bag, as luggage I brought was inadequate to hold all the purchases.

When I went to verify my return flight, Ours smiled kindly at the ticket agent, assuring that we'd have four seats abreast for the fourteen hours Bangkok to Osaka to Los Angeles. When I visited the Lao revolutionary museum, it was full of predictable diatribes against fascist USA aggressors - so totally in contrast to all the Lao's I'd come to know, genuinely warm and eager to practice their English.

Came upon a computer instruction school: they're trying to teach with 1980's equipment, adapted the code for the Windows operating system so that it would run on 8088 systems (something like putting a 200 hp engine onto a tricycle). They had been on the 'net two years ago, but cannot afford the gateway connections or phone charges to Thailand. The kids at my guest house are so good to me, treating me like one of the family. Seems that most tourists spend a maximum of two days in Vientiane; they don't recall any previous tourist having spent two weeks with them. I'll miss them, but looking forward to be done with bottled water!

On my last Sunday in Vientiane, up for the morning Mass, learned that there was a special presentation sponsored by a shampoo company 12 km south of town - local music. Shared a cab there with a French-speaking woman who turned out to be from Belgium, working in the same Ixelles quarter of Brussels where I had visited as an exchange student 43 years before! In fact, the native concert turned out to be acid rock, with thousands of screaming local Lao's, not exactly what I came to Laos for. When I got back to Guest House, my guide Vieng was there to greet me and wish me a happy return home.

Departure formalities were confused, bordering on chaotic: it appears the Lao people are just beginning to get their tourism act together - but let's give them an A for effort. My guide Viengh came to the airport to wish me a good trip - real pluck, as it was about a 20-mile trek round trip to the airport for him on bicycle. At the airport, talked with a Canadian couple from the Northwest Territory who have been hosts to 15 AFS students. A certain symmetry: AFS at the beginning and end of my trip.

We must give it to the Asian carriers: although the flight to Bangkok only one hour, we were still served a complete hot meal. Such service! Ours is now well used to travel, brings a smile to every customs/ gate/ in-flight person he sees. So indulgent with me. I did set myself something of a challenge: with the day gain, I saw to sending four postcards to Jessica from four countries, all on the same day.

Once arrived at San Diego, had my first visit to the city, hosted by Marty Fisher, a friend formerly from Boston and the Church of the Advent. She and two other Advent alumni now retired to San Diego gave me a superb decompression from Asia and introduction to San Diego.

The first day back to Boston, checked in with the DASH dining program: was relieved to find that the E coli weight loss and subsequent gorging on Lao food resulted in no net weight change from before departure, as that would have ruled me out of the study.

A bit about the program: DASH I, completed two years ago, determined conclusively that a diet low in saturated fats reduces blood pressure; it has been found that the suggested diet from that study has been the most quickly adopted by people around the world for health reasons. In my study, DASH II, which will involve 1,000 participants at four hospitals throughout the USA, the attempt will be to determine what dietary influence causes some people to have increased blood pressure due to salt intake, while others don't have a large reaction.

At Boston, 30 participants (out of a pool of over 1,000 who were initially screened - 21-70 years of age, normal to moderately elevated blood pressure without medication) were divided into three groups, each group with different diets (my group had high sweets, low fresh greens - Yuck!), with the salt level varying over the fourteen weeks from none to moderate to very high. All participants ate together at lunch or supper at the Brigham Hospital, were given bags for their other two meals and a snack daily, and for all weekend meals - NO cheating permitted. Everything packed in the bags had to be eaten on schedule, and NO other food be taken. Each day we were weighed, blood pressure weekly, EKG's and lab assessments done periodically. Our bagged meals were altered if we gained or lost weight.

Now in retrospect, I'm glad to have decided to play Puck's Bad Boy when I arrived at the first day of dining. I told the group that, since we would be spending four months doing the second most intimate thing people do together, we may as well have fun. Knowing there's nothing like a bit of struggle to galvanize a group, I suggested we treat the dietitians who were supervising our dining as grade school teachers, developing an adversarial relationship with them. Further, we became demons for checking out each other's compliance with our diet. Imagine the fun we had when we found one of the participants to have hidden his collard greens in his yogurt cup, or when we saw that another had dropped her spinach container into her handbag! Happily, the staff saw through my subterfuge, realized we were adversarial for the fun of it.

In fact, a large part of what made the trial (no optional food for 14 weeks) bearable were the good humor and experiences of the participants. At a celebration marking the end of the trial in May (at which the dietitians prepared whatever food we selected - ice cream sundaes, garden salad, pizza, mixed nuts, and so on), we reversed the normal procedure and prepared diplomas for each of the dietitians, phlebotomists, nurses, researchers, and doctors - each one signed by all of the "subjects."

If anyone over 21 in Boston, Baton Rouge, Baltimore, or near Duke University is interested in participating in the next cadre, beginning in early January 1999, check out their web site at http://dash.bwh.harvard.edu/dash2.html or call 617-732-7818. Besides having free food for fourteen weeks, there is a fine cash gift at the end of the study.

Jessica informed me when I arrived back from vacation that her friend Alexander would like to have a time to speak with me. Though our conversation ended being a very brief meeting in the lobby on our way up to dinner with Jessica and Alex's family, the subject matter and intent were clear: Jessica and Alex are planning to marry on April 10th coming. Having had a nightmare just three months earlier that Jessica told me she was going to marry in a most unconventional and non-traditional ceremony, you can imagine my joy when she noted that they wish to be married at my Parish of the Advent, with Fr. Martin celebrating the Nuptial Mass and me officiating at the Wedding.

Once Jessica was notified that she has in fact passed her Nurse Practitioner exam (specializing in adult medicine), she, Alex, and all of us in the families have been busy planning, researching, committing. The litmus test for me of whether this or that is to be done is whether Jessica and Alex will remember it to have been part of one of the happiest days of their life. Next year's letter should be giving something of a detailed report of this most happy time.

A first with this trip (besides the E coli) was the necessity after the 10-week course of the malaria drug I was used to from other trips to the far East to begin a second series of malaria meds: seems the widespread use of certain quinine-based drugs has produced a virulent strain of malaria.

Also, two months after returning home, noticed a series of severe leg cramps and skin irritations: all sorts of ultrasounds, allergy tests, and other exams demonstrated that I didn't have a milk-borne parasite which has begin appearing in Laos, nor some other water-borne allergy. The allergist who assessed me noted that, as scientifically inadequate as his conclusion must be, the fact that the itching and cramping stopped within a month showed I had nothing wrong!

One benefit from the DASH program was a gift of movie tickets; took Jessica to see "Wagging the Dog" just as the impeachment hearings were getting into full swing and the threat of bombing of Iraq loomed large (is reality miming fiction?). Not having been to a movie theatre for a few decades, found the incapacity to pause or rewind the action, or to step out for a breather, really disconcerting, not to mention the sticky floor in this otherwise upscale theatre. Glad cable is around. [Just after typing this paragraph, heard that Baghdad is NOW being bombed, the night before the impeachment vote !!]

An alliance of cooperative housing associations had me speak on running effective meetings and establishing reliable communications devices for co-ops. Our experience at 49 Symphony Road was, according to participants from many other co-ops, exceptionally positive; no other co-op reported such broad interest and dedication on the part of the membership.

Holy Week this year gave me another exceptional joy at the Church of the Advent: I was deacon of the Mass at all f the Holy Week liturgies with the exception of the Great Vigil. Though I had been moved by prior years' events, having a pivotal role brought the events of the week home to me uniquely. Also, having gone as much as a decade between opportunities to preach at the Parish, was delighted to have two opportunities this past summer.

At one, I was speaking on scrupulosity, and our common practice of seeing all that others do as pardonable, whereas we often find it difficult to pardon ourselves, effectively saying that God cannot forgive us, that all things are not possible with Him. I couldn't have anticipated the contemporary illustration of this sermon: just as I was about to begin it, speaking of the eighty-year old woman being told incredulously that she was about to bear a child, down the aisle comes another eighty-year-old: a woman who, living in the suburbs of Boston, until two weeks before had been blind with cataracts, had never driven to Boston, determined to get to the Advent to hear her son preach. Mum got as far as Brookline, totally lost, explained her predicament to firemen at a station, ended being escorted by a Brookline Fire Dept. engine to the Church of the Advent, where she heard my sermon.

A month later, speaking on the Atonement of our Lord, I got more carried away than normal, was quite vivid as I preached. I noted that Mary's assumption of the role of the Mother of God had to be knowing and voluntary. Else, it could not have occurred, any more than Jesus Christ - perfect, sinless Man - could have accidentally assumed our sins on the Cross in perfect expiation for them. Similarly, I noted, until, in his dying hours, my dad brought my brother Bill and me uniquely together, we had acknowledged the accident of blood relationship; we had condescended to be civil to our sibling; we had no deliberate bond. Happily, this accidental blood relationship has come to be one of spirit between Bill and me, now that we're getting some maturity. Aren't we redeemed sinners fortunate that our Lord needed no fifty years to come to His atoning love for us, to His blood kinship with us! Only after this rather vivid presentation did I realize that Jessica had brought Alex to the Advent for his first experience of her father's preaching. Sort of brought it all together!

Well, at MIT we got pretty well moved into our new quarters, and all was going smoothly there until the Corpus Christi rains: they had been careful to make sure no water could seep through the foundations of the building, but had neglected to put back-flow seals into the sewers: the bottom floor was dank with dirty flood, took two months fully to make operable again. A friend from many years before contacted me: he had been scheduled to speak at the Museum of Science on a new film being presented there about the trials of scaling Mount Everest. The person who was to illustrate his talk disappeared - could I with one day's notice get together slides from my visit eighteen years before to Nepal. Did so; my friend brought his family, who were all shocked to see pictures of them as small children with their parents, pictures they didn't know existed. The show was well received, might have sequel.

Had opportunity to get back to my old enthusiasm this Fall, when a voluntary intervention group at MIT had me lead a seminar on suicide intervention.

This year became increasingly concerned about my alma mater becoming significantly less alma: it appears that Brown, along with other private colleges, is so focusing on raising much money and enriching their endowment, that they are forgetting the genius of their origin. I noted in the past that after thirty years of fund raising for the Brown Fund, I was told I did not give enough money to participate in the fund raising. Now Brown appears so committed to the reengineering mania that they are further changing their essence. Well, having been involved with Brown since my high-school visit there, I've decided on a trial separation from this 42-year relationship. Let's see if the new president is going to restore what I value about the place, or continues its present course of money-seeking.

Before you react to my note that I depart in a week for Burma [aka Myanmar], please note that I've diligently toured the WWW, found a site listing politically correct guest houses, transports, and agencies in Burma which are private and do not profit the government. I'm looking forward to starting out in Rangoon - was to be on the Floating Hotel which had left Saigon just before I was to visit it in Viet Nam two years ago, but find it has just pulled up stakes from Rangoon for Micronesia, then on by train up to Mandalay, by boat over to Bagan, by boat down the Irawaday back to Rangoon. Shall repeat last year's delight, having a few days in San Diego with friends before getting home.

May the celebration of our Saviour's birth bring you joy, peace, and strength as we go forward to our new Year. I'm grateful for those of you who have written (seems the practice of an annual letter is becoming increasingly common) and look forward to hearing from the rest of you!

Click home to get up to Hogarth's home page; click travel to get up to index of Hogarth's trips. These notes last changed 16 December 1998