These notes last changed 16 December 2000.
The first sign that this trip was going to be different: the day before it began, received a call from a friend in Delhi, who had met me in 1975, and who had hosted me in an unplanned overnight in Delhi in 1991. Just checking in twenty-five years later!
On Christmass Eve, had a neat festive dinner with Jessica in Beacon Hill; she and Alex gave me a rice cooker. It was only great discipline that prevented my giving it a test run when I got home to prepare for Midnight Mass at the Advent. After the Mass we set up a collation in the Frisby Room for all who had worked on the Mass. Then - at 2:00 AM - Fr. Huntress drove me to the airport. Why so early: with my flight to JFK at 6:00 AM, no sense in trying to get any snooze time.
Happily, the Korean Air flight was right on time, half full, super service. Korean lunch: Pibimbap (chopped beef, peas, rice, seaweed, soup - a first for me), then ordered Coq au Vin for supper. When we set our clocks ahead 14.5 hours for Seoul, the 25th disappeared. So glad I had four seats across to get first sleep in 22 hours.
A new "emergency" food on this trip, to join my customary chunky peanut butter and crackers: fig Newtons - travels really well and fills in those long intervals between inflight meals. We flew from 15oF in Boston to 20oF in New York, finally on from Seoul to 90oF in Bangkok, where I had a ten-hour wait for connection to Dhaka in Bangladesh.
At Bangkok, thought I had blanked on what hotels I've been in on this trip, then realized my bed has been airplane seats and airport benches since Friday - so good there was no Saturday night:). One amusing factoid: in 33 hours of travel, four countries, and six flights, was outdoors only once, when changing from a commuter flight at JFK.
Won't have to wait till fourth page for trouble on this trip! When my bag arrived for customs check at Dhaka, the corner was torn open. Happily, there were large items in that corner, nothing lost. Went to luggage office to file report. The agents' stonewalling took a half hour, finally my threat that I wouldn't budge till they filed a report. They sent me to Thai Air office on 2nd floor - vacant. Then went to checkin on first floor - no Thai agent. Finally yelled in a voice loud enough to fill Fenway Park that I wouldn't move till a Thai Air agent showed up. When he arrived, his chauffeur took me over to domestic terminal, where I found the final leg of the trip would be four hours late (47 hours and counting since leaving Boston). A problem? No way: got to talking with Muslim, a native of Chittagong returning from business in the capital whose family had extensive business interests in Chittagong; he offered to show me the city the next day.
Then, inflight to Chittagong, my neighbor turned out to be the founder and chief executive officer of the Chittagong Stock Exchange, a person so totally into the internet and web-based financial exchanges that it appeared I was flying to one of the most plugged-in cities of the world, rather than one of the by far most primitive.
A slight complication on arrival in Chittagong: the feast of Ramadan (during which Muslims practice an asceticism analogous to Christian Lent) was juxtaposed with a Hartaal, a sort of union strike based on religious grounds (first time ever that a Hartaal was called during Ramadan). One insidious feature of Hartaals is that all adherents of the faith are required to participate in the strike, though only the bosses profit from them. In my case, I was fortunate that Maroof from the stock exchange was with me: he somehow got a trishaw driver to agree to pedal the two of us - with all of our luggage - into town. There, Maroof made sure the Saint Martin Hotel installed me in his company's guest rooms, just fifty-five hours after leaving Boston - no wonder I slept solidly for fourteen hours.
My introduction to Chittagong the next morning was extraordinary: Maroof had invited me to stop by the Chittagong Stock Exchange. On arrival, I was presented with a formal itinerary, had meetings with each of his deputies (finance, sales, technology), then a banquet luncheon with the three employees not observing Ramadan. Turns out that he is in process of starting an alliance of fifteen bourses throughout Southeast Asia. We had lengthy talk about the respective merits of firewalls versus encryption.
Then, as I was walking back to the hotel, Muslim from the Dhaka airport drove up, gave me a wonderful tour of the zoo, parks, Pohatali Lake, elegant dinner at a Chinese restaurant. As he had to leave town on business, he appointed a friend working at the hotel to watch out for me.
Got my annual year-end haircut the next day. By the time it was done, there were 20+ locals watching their first Occidental get a haircut. According to all here, I am the first from USA they have met who was here as a tourist - they wonder why anyone would go to Chittagong who didn't have to.
Leaving Chittagong, things went very well; did have a slight difficulty at Dhaka: after the security check, saw my cassette recorder was missing, went back to security. It by chance had fallen into the handbag of a security officer :)
Two unusual events at the Chittagong airport: there was a young man staring at me in the waiting room: except for my color, he thought me to be his late father. Further, four young ladies brought a card to wish me a Happy New Year - such innocent kindness!
Almost felt that my vacation was over, once returning to Rangoon, as it seemed as if I was back home. It was so good to get back to Rangoon on New Year's Eve. Dr. May at May Fair Inn had two longyis - the ankle-length skirt worn by 95% of the men in Burma - for me. It is the custom in Burma to give a longyi to an honored guest. I came how with nine of them; have to go back to Burma - where else can I wear a longyi?!
Went down to my normal haunt on Merchant Street for one beer before much needed sleep. All the people from last year were there, recognized me. Ended up being invited to a New Year's party for 100 up in a swank private home in the hills over Rangoon. What a way to end the year! It was such a different and neat experience to return to what I've already known.
It appears that those of my letters which got through had effect: Fr. Oak, the Vicar at the Cathedral, told the congregation at Mass my first Sunday that, since I'm here, the Archbishop is letting him take his first holiday in six years to go upcountry to visit his family. I'm to work with his assistant for the following three weeks!
After Mass, went with Liz Shepherd (the woman who had befriended me last year) and an expat couple from Bangkok to the British Embassy Social Club for cocktails, then with Liz and Tony to Inya Lake Hotel for a buffet. So dull!
Went with Liz and a driver across the Iyerawaday, by jeep up to a new orphanage - 16 sweet kids from 30 months to 16 years old.
That evening, all dressed up and ready for Tony's birthday party. Thought to wear a jacket, stepped outdoors - 90oF at 6:00 p.m. - no jacket. Finally, the next day, it was my first since getting to Rangoon that I have no obligations - isn't that what vacations are for? Did finish the obligatory post cards and confirm my flight home. Had a delightfully lazy time.
After five days of unsuccessful searching, did find my corner "restaurant" lady, Mrs. Ma - rather, she found me as I was walking along Merchant Street. I heard her cry out, "Mr. David" and come bounding across the street; she had been on the lookout for me since the arrival of my annual letter telling of my impending return to Rangoon. She had gone upscale, now had a permanent food stall - same delicious food. Gave me a yet another longyi at supper. Rangoon is increasingly growing on me.
Was glad to learn that, in spite of the Burmese hierarchy's sharing the rest of the southeastern Asian Anglican church's disgust with what is happening in the American Episcopal church, the archbishop of Myanmar gave permission that I preach and serve as Deacon of the Mass at the cathedral (the Advent's reputation is world-wide).
Had such a good time vegetating in Rangoon - no touring, no photos for three days. It's only by major force of will that I went by an agency to see about schedules the following week for getting to Inle Lake, to Popa, etc., places I missed last year. Otherwise, it's so neat just to be here. Never had a similar sentiment.
Had intended still another quiet day, preparing my sermon for Sunday. Then Liz caught up with me, invited me to the Hash Street Harriers run in the evening - British expats throughout the world have a run ending with a beer bash every Saturday afternoon. The bash that evening was to be at Tony and Liz's; I was one of three virgin inductees into the Harriers. Our initiation: we had a race to see which of us could down a litre of beer fastest: the Yank did us proud!
This is holiday? On Sunday, up at 5:30 to be at cathedral Morning Prayer at 6:30, low mass 7:00, Sung Mass 8:30. When I got there, they had changed the propers of the Mass, so I had to make major changes in my sermon on the fly. Must have been well received: Fr. Chri He asked me to preach again the next Sunday.
Noted that the major renovations of the cathedral were magnificent: all of the plaster had been replaced; the whole ceiling had been repainted; all of the woodwork was refurbished: looked as pristine as it must have when built a century before. However, I noticed that the streaks from last year's monsoons were still there; had the roof been repaired? No, the people concentrated first on what was visible; they were sure help would come from somewhere to replace the roof. What would it cost, I asked. With labor at 30 cents per day, the complete refurbishment of the roof before the coming monsoon season would be seven thousand dollars. Hmm....
Then a farewell party at the Australian residence compound for a UN couple leaving for Qatar. It's notable that the expat community actually has very little to do with the locals. Though I blended right in with the locals in my longyi and sandals, most Westerners make up the five percent of the men who wear trousers in public. Interesting to see that all were barefoot at Mass (as in all private homes and religious sites in Burma).
Well, I could have gone by bus (actually two of them, which with transit time would have taken twenty-two hours) or private car (fourteen hours on very difficult roads) up to Inle Lake; chose to fly the 1-1/4 hour trip. Once at Heho, found that the advertised taxi fare had doubled. Let's, however get some perspective: $12 for a one-hour taxi ride. Although the Kyat is still exchanged at the same rate as the year before, local prices have gone down 10-25%.
Once at the head of Inle Lake, went directly to the guesthouse most recommended by Lonely Planet: the Shwe Hintha Golden Duck Guest House in Nyaung Shwe. Sorry, but I think I have to start with superlatives again. What a delight! Right on a canal, a balcony off my bedroom overlooking the north end of the lake, an attached bath and shower, complete breakfast - all for $3.00/night. With all that, did it bother me that the water was tepid, not hot? Hardly!
For dinner, the boy at reception directed me to a footbridge over the canal to the Big Drum Restaurant opposite the hotel. Each table was in a private thatch bungalow overlooking the canal. Chose a typical Shan supper (the tribe inhabiting this region of Burma). So peaceful, so calm, so outside of time!
Had that meal been all I found in Burma on this trip, I would have been sated. No, there was more. After getting back to my hotel and going out to my balcony for a cold beer, I noticed the boy at reception had gone to the riverbank and began entertaining me by singing in Burmese and strumming his guitar for over an hour. I defy you to point me towards any other tape than the one I made of that performance which would better convey God's peace!
Another novelty: for my first time ever in Burma, needed a sweater when I went down to my full Western breakfast at 6:30 the next morning, with the guide and boatman arriving at my table on the patio - three steps down into my longboat. The Inle Lake boats are carved out of a single tree trunk, are 3-10 meters long, all carrying an incredible cargo of merchandise, produce, or people.
Then began an unprecedented five-hour tour of the lake - stilt houses, floating gardens, wooden monastery, hand weaving, and floating market. Of course, I was able to get many shots of the Inle Lake boatmen: they stand in the rear of their boats, rowing with their foot wrapped around the oar, so they can use both hands to wield the nets with which they catch the fish, better seen from a standing position.
Other fishermen work with the more commonly known cormorants: with a ring around the bird's neck, the fishermen let them catch the fish, and then pluck them from their beaks. Happily, was able to get back to the Big Drum Restaurant across the canal from the hotel for another super meal - fried noodles with chicken - before the taxi came to take me back over the mountains to the airport at Heho. I was enthralled. Do you wonder that I'm planning two nights back at Inle Lake this year?
We can understand having a crowded social calendar in Rangoon - it is the nation's capital. But in Bagan - the next stop on my trip - a one-street town that died in the seventeenth century? From the time of my plane landing, I didn't have a moment to myself. Went to the same guesthouse as last year, same room, same rate as last year (now, however, with hot water!). At the restaurant where I had seen the marionette performance the year before, was sad to learn that last year's waiter was no longer there. However, the owner gave another waiter the rest of the evening off, so he could take me to the new restaurant my waiter Kyaw Soe had opened.
In the morning, Maung Maung and horse cart #66 were waiting to do my bidding. Now I'd be able to climb all the temples my injured foot had prevented the previous year. Was honored to be invited by Maung to his home for dinner; he did ask whether I'd mind if his neighbors came to look at me. Why? Nobody in his neighborhood had ever seen a white man up close! So, while Maung and I ate (a feast of pork, chicken, fish, cauliflower, soup, bananas, accompanied by Burmese gin, sipped straight with sugar and squeezed lime), his wife, mother, and neighbors sat watching me.
Here's the point: Maung had just bought his own home when he was able to save a few hundred dollars. He and five relatives -three generations - lived in this humble, dirt-floored, one-room house without running water or electricity. Has any Westerner been more honored than I, to be invited to share a meal with these loving people?
The following day, Kyaw Soe took the day off, so that he and a driver could take me down to Mount Popa, another site missed last year. A one-hour drive from Nyaung Oo, it is a huge rock mountain sitting on a vast plain. At its summit, following a climb of 53 stories was a huge Buddhist monastery. Tricky: no two stairs of the 777 were the same height. All the way up, monkeys in different tribes encourage gifts of peanuts; if you're so insensitive as not to have any peanuts, you'll be the unfortunate recipient of a golden shower!
Leaving Mount Popa, was treated to luncheon in a local restaurant, with a karaoke bar; there just seemed to be something bizarre, to be recording my host, dressed in Western jeans and cowboy boots, crooning Beetles' era music in Burmese.
Coming back from Mount Popa, on to Pyay and a spectacular wooden monastery built in the 18th century. Kyaw invited me to dine with his family. He noted that his mother had taken the day off from work (making a pittance daily roasting and selling peanuts) to prepare the banquet for me.
Again, the same drill: as we ate, all the neighbors streamed through the house to see the white man. My English friends back at Rangoon noted that I in three weeks had gotten to know more Burmese people than they had in their several years in Burma. Whose loss?
What a feast it was: squash soup, steamed vegetables, curry pork, curry chicken, curry unknown meat, rice, followed by bananas and papayas. I did note at one point in Bagan that I couldn't wait to finish my vacation so I could get some rest!
Now it's seven longyis - Kyaw Soe gave me one and a stylish Burmese shirt when he and Maung brought me to the airport by horse cart. Maung's parting gift was a bag of tea smuggled from China.
Once back to Rangoon, finally had a quiet day, able to finish Sunday's sermon, and to provide an evaluation of the six colleges to which Dr. May's son wished to apply in the USA. Other guests at the May Fair asked my counsel about their trip up north; was able to give them itineraries, places to stay, restaurants in each town. Beginning to feel like a travel agent - telling people what to pay, what to visit, how to travel, what horse cart to use, etc.; fun so long as it's not my work.
After the five days up north, it was like coming home to be back in Rangoon, back to my preferred restaurant: the waiters at the Pyae Pyae competed for which of them would get to be my waiter.
Am I getting used to it? Up at 5:30 for 7:00 mass, preach 8:30 mass, coffee with vicar, drinks at British Embassy social Club with friends and British Counsel, neat lunch (first time here a raw salad - greens are flown in daily from Europe).
Checked out last big objective of this trip: Golden boulder in SE Burma. For a day trip shall have to leave 4:00 a.m., back 10:00 p.m. - but better than just one more hotel! Such a joy to be able to wander around Rangoon without a camera!
Liz is doing a party for me my last night here, Saturday. Heard her ordering four tables and 32 chairs at British Embassy Social Club for her garden - no half measures with the Shepherd's. She and Tony have been so good to be inviting me to events here. Believe I've met every expat in Rangoon.
Had a fun time beginning souvenir shopping today. So nice, for the first time, to know what is here and where to find it. Also, it's a joy to have the luxury of yet another week here. The staff at the beer garden where I do lunch every day had me come by last night at closing - 11:00 PM - so I could join them at their local pub - no tourists, local gin 33 cents/litre. Much fun.
Ultimate tourist madness: up 4:00 a.m. for a six-hour drive to see a rock! It happens to be a huge, gold leaf covered boulder with 21-foot temple on top of it, precariously balanced on side of a mountain. We drove up 100 hairpin turns (one truck didn't make it a few weeks before - thirty died), then a trek of one hour up to the rock.
Industrious locals walk alongside the pilgrims/ tourists, ready (for a fee) to provide portage as soon as the climber wearies. Once back from the Boulder Stupa at Kyaihitao, I agree with the universal statement that it is a once-in-a-lifetime experience in two senses: witnessing the piety at this silent site, overlooking mountain ranges North, South, East, and West - it was holy. But the trek was really wearying. So glad I did it, so glad it's done!
One afternoon, witnessed the first electricity outage since arriving in Burma on this trip, though they had been more frequent than daily the year before: doubling of electricity rates has lowered demand. Could not be having a better time than this last week in Rangoon.
Spent a morning at Shwedagon Paya - Buddhism's holiest shrine in Burma. Immensely better getting around it this year, with increased mobility. Though I am not Buddhist, could not but be struck with the simple piety of the thousands of pilgrims at this shrine. I was particularly impressed with the large number of teen-agers worshipping there; bodes well for the future.
Towards the end of my trip, was feeling a bit of a stomachache and other problems - could be my body telling me it's time to look homeward. Now in the homestretch - had to buy another bag :( but believe all will be packed before the first of three parties on my last weekend - Biryani with the family from the May Fair; a garden party with the Shepherds; a rather simpler time with the waiters from the Pyay Pyay.
Saw clouds in the sky today, first time on the trip below 90oF- so nice.
I've been having such an incredibly wonderful time here in Burma that I though I'd be sad to be leaving. In fact, my internal clock seems to have set to reality - ready to get back home. All travelers with whom I've spoken concur that the Burmese are the most genuinely good-willed people - without ulterior motive. It's really been a pleasure to be living among them.
Almost finished packing my things. Wandered at the city market, the public garden to take pictures of the flowers, a Hindu festival in the streets.
Following Mass at the Cathedral on my last Sunday, the Dean of the Anglican seminary asked me to preach/teach there next year. Also, as the seminary cannot be accredited until it adds 1,000 new titles to its current 5,000, I indicated I'd see what could be done in Boston.
A final brunch at Traders Hotel with Liz and Tony, a final visit to the Pyay Pyay, taken to the airport by Dr. May, her son Linn, and the driver. They gave me another longyi (my ninth) and another Shan shoulder bag (the sixth).
Finally inflight Rangoon to Bangkok: leaving the Golden Land, bearable only because I'm sure I have to come back to all my friends here. Still wearing a longyi, three weeks without trousers or shoes or socks, planning to change on my way to KoreaAt Bangkok airport for three hours, was struck anew with what a city the airport is: there must be several tens of thousands of passengers boarding hundreds of flights every day, twenty-four hours per day - so clean, so well organized.
Though the flight to Bangkok was without incident, I had a bit of difficulty there, as Thai Air had put my bags with the flight I had originally booked, not my eventual one. The problem: the clothes for changing from short-sleeved shirt, longyi, and sandals to clothing more appropriate for Boston's winter were in my checked bags.
Once arrived at Seoul, was ready to tour the city during my twelve-hour layover - not likely: temperature had gone from 90oF in Rangoon to 4oF in Seoul. Decided to spend the time wandering the hundreds of shops at the airport, catching some shut-eye, and checking out Korean food.
Is it only me, by the way, who finds that Duty-free does not necessarily mean a good buy? I've been repeatedly struck with how much more expensive things at Duty-free are than back home. I guess that, with a captive audience that has nothing to do but shop in the interminable hours between flights, and with all that extra money for the trip, the shopkeepers are no fools. For the fourteen-hour flight to JFK, was fortunate to get a seat at the bulkhead, so I could stretch out and get some quality sleep.
Happily, I came upon nobody I knew in the subway ride from Boston's Logan Airport to my home on that cold January night in my short-sleeved shirt, longyi, and sandals: the appropriate winter clothing was three more days wandering around the world before catching up with me. Oh, well: if Boston can't handle a man in a skirt and summer shirt in the middle of the winter, that's their problem! One kind lady offered me a dollar - we homeless are lucky:) Shall be more prudent about putting essential things into carry-on luggage in the future!
At the end of January, the Parish of the Advent had their first annual meeting since the troubles of the past several years; so good to see all the people coming back together and old wounds healing.
At the beginning of February, received a FAX from Muslim Saber, whom I had met in Dhaka, and who subsequently gave me an extensive tour of Chittagong. Turns out that he was to be getting married at the end of February and wanted me to come over to Chittagong to bless his wedding. No small honor, for a Muslim to invite a Christian cleric to bless the wedding! Unfortunately, the expense and time (40 hours in each direction) put it quite out of the question. Happily, Muslim's work (major exporter of cement to the West) brings him to the States occasionally; hope he gets up to Boston.
You might recall how glowing I was about the prospects for Brown, with the arrival of Gordon Gee as our president a year before. In a meeting with the alumni leadership, he seemed to be right in the spirit of what I find so wonderful about the university. Then, in February, while he was allegedly assisting another college to find a president, he was offered their presidency, at a substantial increase in pay over what Brown had given him. So, when he came back to Brown and asked the leadership how they would like to respond, they replied that he was welcome to leave immediately; they would take care of shipping his property on to him. This was unconscionable, for a president to leave so soon after coming; happily, all of the constituencies at Brown - faculty, students, administration, trustees, and alumni - united and worked as one to make sure his departure would not damage us.
Then I was given opportunity to make my parish in Boston aware of what the needs were, both for the Cathedral and for the seminary in Rangoon. Excerpted from my article in our parish newsletter, Smoke Signals:
This was an awesome experience: the piety, enthusiasm, and Christian charity of the several hundred Burmese worshippers were palpable. One of the few English people in the congregation, Liz Shepherd, took me around to the Vicarage for tea hour, then to the British Embassy Social Club for luncheon. In the course of the following week, I got to know the Cathedral staff well, also calling on some of the orphanages the cathedral is supporting.
Though I might have experience the unbounded kindnesses of the Burmese people even without my impaired foot, I was struck at how genuinely helpful all were - stopping cars so I could cross the street, offering to carry me to the summit of Buddhist temples, clearing a seat for me wherever I went. I must be clear: the Burmese people are in monetary terms impoverished, workers earning as little as thirty cents per day. Now here's the curiosity: they who had nothing gave me everything. I did not go as a great authority to teach them; rather, the people of the Cathedral brought me a to a perception of simple, profound Christian love. You cannot know what a privilege it was to join the people of the Cathedral of the Holy Trinity in worship.
I finally realized that - for the first time in my life - I had to return to a place I had visited, this conviction being underlined when the Vicar invited me to preach and serve as Deacon of the Mass when I returned.
Thus, this past December, I came back, somewhat anxious about the adage that you can't go back where you've been. How resoundingly true! When I returned, the owner of my Guest House in Rangoon said I was no longer a guest, but now a member of the family. ...
Well, I got to thinking, these valiant Christians, thriving and converting pagans daily, bravely proclaiming their faith while the Church in Burma is enduring unspeakable conditions (I'll elaborate on this to you in person, as I wish to return to Burma this winter), these people coming with hearts open and feet bared (as in every sanctuary and private home in Burma) to greet Deacon David, these people who gave me an new awareness of what the Faith is all about - could I not try to help them!
Had I not been there myself, I would not believe what I witnessed. In some of the provinces, no more than two people are allowed to congregate together, making community worship impossible. Even in Rangoon - with rather free worship permitted - there are occasions when all people arriving at the Cathedral are photographed. The Vicar of the Cathedral earns $40/month, of which $25 goes to buy rice for his family of four.
What kind of life do the above conditions produce? The most vibrant, alive, and growing members of the Body of Christ I have ever been privileged to witness. Yes, the people worshiping have nothing; of that, they share everything. It is a rare week when new members of the Body are not baptized, or ratified in Confirmation.
... I've received e-mail from Rangoon that the roof repairs have already started, with a sure confidence that the rest of the funds will come; overtures are being made to the American Embassy there about facilitating the books getting to the seminary.
A colleague at MIT had given me a pass to an exhibit at Boston's Museum of Fine Arts; it was such a pleasure. Upon inquiry, found that membership for two is the price of four exhibit tickets. Have been now to several openings at MFA; it's a bonus that all new shows have member-only nights, which are significantly less frantic.
After almost a year being shut down, e-mail into Burma resumed last Spring; so helpful, as airmail takes up to three weeks to arrive; telephone or FAX contact is nearly impossible. Especially as I've gotten involved with helping my guesthouse owner find a college for her son in the USA, it's a real boon to have easy communication again.
Possibly because of the defection of the former president at Brown, those of us involved with fund raising for our fortieth reunion worked with redoubled energy. Set myself the task of contacting all donors who had given in the past, but not in recent years. The difficulty was not asking for the money; rather, with many of us working on a 24x7 schedule, and with all sorts of electronic bulwarks (voice mail, phone screening, caller ID), it's nearly impossible to make casual telephone contact. On average, it took over nine calls before I could reach one live person.
Also during May, the Advent had a teaching mission, Advent 2000. Five distinguished Anglican scholars from around the world were brought together to teach, preach, and worship with the parish over three days. I was privileged to be chaplain to one of the five, the retired bishop of Quincy and former Dean of Nashotah House, Bishop Donald Parsons, under whom I had studied Greek and New Testament while at the House 38 years before. It was an inspiring weekend for all of us. I put the major papers delivered at this conference up on the Advent's website - http://www.theadvent.org/Mission2000.
Further, we're now posting the latest issue of Smoke Signals (our quarterly parish newsletter) up on our website. Turns out that many first-time visitors to the Advent have found us by searching the WWW; I've entered into correspondence with people from around the world who share the Advent's values.
A very special joy came at the Vigil Mass of Easter this past April: Fr. Warren invited me to preach the homily. One difficulty: the rite of the Easter Vigil is so full and complete - how to add to it, while not unnecessarily lengthening our longest service of the Church year? One parishioner noted it was well I finished when I did; else, he thought I'd fall out of the pulpit, so much was my enthusiasm rising as I continued!
I was devastated to learn that a colleague of two years was going to be leaving during the summer to go with her husband to a great promotional opportunity he had gotten on the West coast. This, by the way, was not simply a work colleague: I had been privileged to baptize Marine's and Mark's daughter at the Advent the prior year.
Not only Marine, however: another of my key colleagues at MIT was leaving, Naomi to begin a happy retirement. You can imagine the anxiety losing two of my four primary working colleagues all at once brought. Further, had much work to do in planning farewell parties for Naomi and Marine (fun events), and in the logistics of finding replacements for them (chaos). There should be a rule that you need not do both departures and arrivals at the same time.
Somehow, it all came together. Happily, Marine's replacement was a person with whom I had had the pleasure of working in the past. Perhaps ominously, two senior-level people came in to replace Naomi, in wholly new roles. This didn't exactly diminish my responsibilities at MIT.
However, with June 11th came a critical date: I had now been ten years at MIT beyond age 50; and was now 62. Thus, if things appear to get really impossible, I'm eligible for early retirement, with all benefits. As soon as that option became possible, it became less necessary.
Brown 40th reunion came over Memorial Day weekend in May. The reunion, my first in ten years and the first at which I would simply be an alumnus with no special tasks - Class Marshall, function organizer, etc. - was like a mini-vacation. I even took the Sunday off at the Advent.
From the greeting by undergraduate guides who showed us to our housing, to meeting classmates with whom I had had nearly no contact as an undergraduate, to a really idyllic four-day weekend, it was glorious. Glad we were able to raise a few millions for Brown; especially glad that the college appears to be headed in essentially the direction that made it such a happy haven for me forty years before. Let's hope that the new administration does not try to fix what is working quite well!
I must note that the presence of many undergraduates, helping with logistics, waiting on functions, etc., was an invaluable part of the success of the weekend; it gave us a great opportunity to witness the sort of people Brown is turning out: really a great bunch of people.
Spent much of the year keeping the Advent's attention on the needs of our friends at the Cathedral in Rangoon, to the point that, with a generous gift from the Vestry, several members pledged their support for the roof repair. I was delighted to call Liz on Maundy Thursday, telling her the whole amount needed had been pledged. Then we passed a few months finding a sure and safe way to get the funds to Rangoon. Shan't detail in writing how we accomplished that :).
Then, on to the books for the seminary at Holy Cross Theological College: they came in by the case full. Two retired clergy generously contributed a large part of their extensive theological libraries. As the need was for different titles, no matter the subject matter, we received a diversity of offerings. From all of the contributions, felt only a few might not pass muster with the Burmese authorities, e.g. The Christian Basis for Non-violent Revolution; The Life of the Dalai Lama; The Pentagon Papers.
Well, we had a pizza/Chianti party at the Advent, at which we packed 600 books into 20 cartons; since, there have been 300 more books. Was just beginning contact with various shipping agencies, when I thought to call the Burmese embassy in DC; there, I was advised that the Ambassador would be glad to receive my petition to ship the books to Rangoon; the Ministry of Religions in Rangoon would have to grant approval. Still waiting to hear on that, while Liz is working with the US Embassy in Rangoon; other creative initiatives are underway.
The co-op where I live is getting along well; we had feared that repair of decks might go to six digits; looks like $10,000 will address the problem. Part of the reason for our having had only one 3% increase in our carrying charges in the past ten years is participation by the members in the running of the Co-op; always a challenge to keep members active. Whatever our activity, the external waiting list, at our current turnover rate, will be good for 24 years! Need I note that we do no advertising?
Jessica and Alex had opportunity to take a free flight for a second honeymoon in France, thanks to the flight on their original trip being delayed. One priceless souvenir of that trip: they brought me a coffee-table book, in French, about Burma - so well written and photographed, so completely transporting me to the land of a thousand smiles, that I budgeted myself, permitting only one chapter per week.
As Jessica is working on Christmass day, Mum has already departed for her winter home in Florida, and as Christmass comes on a Monday this year, decided to begin my trip on the 23rd. Flying Boston-Seoul direct, arriving at my hotel in Seoul two hours before the beginning of Midnight Mass of Christmass at the Anglican cathedral across the street from the hotel; three days in Seoul (just as cold as Boston), then back to Rangoon.
What has happened to my wanderlust? Why am I returning for the second time to Rangoon? Have I lost curiosity? In fact, I don't believe I would have been ready for the epiphany following the Mandalay sewer before it came; I doubt I would have been ready to see the holy body of Christ in the people at Rangoon before now. Could be I'm maturing; could be our Lord is giving me an extra shot of grace. Whatever, it feels so good to be going back now.
I shall be taking your love with me to Rangoon; may Jesus Christ's nativity bring your life to fullness!
Ce-zu tin ba-deh! Thank you!
These notes last changed 16 December 2000