These notes last changed 07 December 2001.
Although I was apparently violating one of my canons, not to return to a place already visited, my commitment to visit a new country each year-end has continued: first destination for my 23 December flight was to Seoul, Korea (anteceded by a refueling stop in Anchorage, Alaska, of all places in mid-winter!). And what a beginning: Jessica - having found it necessary to get a car for her work - kindly offered to drive me to the airport early in the morning; I learned only after we arrived in good time that it was her first time driving to intown Boston. We had a neat Korean brunch at the Origato Restaurant in the international departures terminal; how did she discover it?
Here's a travel tip: if a long trip is too full to afford four seats abreast for stretching out, try to get a bulkhead seat: with a few extra feet in front of you, almost as comfortable as up front. My traveling companion Ours (the little bear Jessica had fashioned for me so I would not travel alone) again charmed airline personnel: we got a bulkhead. A day passes - 22 hours without sunset.
The schedule had called for us to reach Seoul in ample time for checking in at hotel, then to get over to Midnight Mass at the Anglican Cathedral. Lack of tail winds had us arriving two hours late, just enough time to get to the hotel, drop my bags in the lobby, and run to the beginning of the Mass - the Cathedral happily being right next door.
As the liturgy was totally in Korean, I might have been disoriented, what with the 28 hours since leaving Boston; happily, the Church in Korea continues with the traditions cherished at the Advent; the words differed, but the actions and the music were just as in Boston. Being the only Yank in the packed congregation, I sang along lustily. After the Mass, the Archbishop invited me to join him and the clergy for a reception in the Cathedral close - such joy, such peace, we hardly noticed the snow coming down.
Back to the hotel, it was my first Christmass Day in years without travel; after morning Mass back at the Cathedral, wandered the streets of Seoul, carefree, aimless, at peace. A tiny dusting of snow reminds us that the weather in Seoul is like that of Boston.
Discovering that I had forgotten to pack my travel guides, spent Boxing Day discovering an unique feature of Seoul: underground shopping malls stretch seemingly for miles. After visits to four bookstores without success, was prepared to give up the quest for Lonely Planet's guide to Burma. A dignified Korean, perceiving my frustration, offered to assist with the search. Well, this kind gentleman (a university professor) spent a few hours with me, traversing what seemed to be all of Seoul and going from one underground mall to another, checking out numerous bookstores. We found the guide! I could not have had a better introduction to Korea than this helpful representative of Seoul's academia.
Do we need an excuse for gluttony? It has recently come out that people who fly with a full stomach have significantly lower risk of heart attack inflight. All the excuse I need for a hearty luncheon before leaving for the ongoing flight!
Having had an eight-hour layover at Seoul's Kimpo airport the year before, made a beeline for the wonderful postcard vendor I remembered; she also had good memory, recalled meeting Ours the year before - he is becoming notorious internationally! Some were disconcerted, it turned out on my return to Boston, to have received Korean postcards from me during my time in Burma; I thought a change of scenery would be welcome; shan't make the same mistake again.
At Bangkok, the customary twelve-hour layover went well enough. However, after I left my habitual snack bar, Ek (a waiter who had remembered Ours from the previous two years) came running after me to return my forgotten wallet! When I went back to the restaurant and asked for the manager so I could commend Ek, a woman sitting at counter said I should put the commendation in writing: she was Ek's mother, gets to see him only at work.
At the airport, also switched from shoes and trousers to floppies and the Burmese longyi, not to return to western wear for four weeks. Now, after two years' practice, am able to attach the longyi so it won't fall off!
Though the flight up to Rangoon was only one hour, we were served a full meal. I though of this when I heard that some domestic US airlines are considering abandoning food service on all flights. Having worked diligently with the son of my guesthouse owner in Rangoon to get him admitted to a college in the States, was sorry on arrival to learn that he had had to fly to the USA just before Christmass in order to get a flight to California before classes started.
Once settled in at the May Fair Inn, was pleasantly surprised to find an unfamiliar couple waiting to greet me, with a lavish bouquet of flowers. Turns out that they were sent by my English friends in Burma, deputized to welcome me back. Of course, there were three more longyis waiting in my room.
I was rather uncomfortable with the extent to which my guesthouse hosts lavished favors upon me. I understand their joy that their youngest son is getting an exceptional opportunity to study in the USA (of the 25 Burmese who applied at the US Embassy for a student visa with Linn, none besides him was given a visa). My role was little more than pointing out to the embassy the degree to which Linn and his family would profit from his studies in the USA. I expect my having lived with the family in Burma gave my recommendation somewhat greater credence with the Embassy.
Early on during this stay, was a guest at dinner with the Archbishop of Myanmar; had opportunity to discuss my potential role in teaching at the seminary. We must understand that the government - given that 85% of the population of the country is Buddhist - has policies which favor Buddhism. Thus, the government never sent any acknowledgment - much less approval - of my request that shipping the books to the seminary be permitted. Further, although there is no overt expression of hostility to Christians in the large cities, it is nearly impossible to get local government approval in the countryside for assemblies of Christians for worship.
In addition, all new buildings must receive permits from the government: no new Christian buildings are allowed! We're lucky that, during the period of British hegemony, rather more building than strictly needed was done. Our present labor is to maintain and refurbish the existing buildings. Another source of some frustration in our efforts is the seeming lacksadasical attitude of the people: we in the West come with our can-do enthusiasm and impatience, only to find that necessary information or measurements or arrangements take forever to come.
Thinking I had reached ultimate happiness the previous year, it just kept getting better. The wait staff at my habitual restaurant gave me a party one of my first nights, as if I had been away a week rather than a year.
So good to get back to routine the first Sunday: masses at 7:00 and 8:30, followed by coffee at the vicarage and lunch at the British Embassy Social Club with expat friends. Though the kids at my restaurant invited me to go with them for New Year celebration, spent my first New Year in memory abed with a fever, victimized temporarily by adjustment to far eastern dietary and digestion routines. Oh, well, was quite refreshed for the actual beginning of the new Millennium.
Another travel nugget: simple treatment of intestinal distress while traveling: six teaspoons of sugar and a half teaspoon of sugar dissolved in a liter of water works wonderfully to restore balance. My guesthouse owner, a physician, agrees that it is probably better to treat the malady with this natural remedy than with fancy medications. Whatever - it worked: was back to good shape very quickly, with fever & malaise gone after a day. Should note that this return to Rangoon seemed less a visit than a homecoming.
Was introduced to a new coffee shop: even Burma seems to have come under the spell of double lattes with a dusting of cinnamon. However, here was a bit of a role reversal when I invited an expat friend to visit my Burmese restaurant. At first, she and the staff had some awkwardness; she and they ended up enjoying each other, as do I.
It was revealing that, at a dinner party with tourists from the British Isles, we talked about our respective experiences. They had spent their entire month in Burma on a private car on an exclusive train, never in direct contact with Burmese, never speaking with Burmese natives. They wondered how I had gotten myself invited to native homes for supper: simple - I went to where the people are. It's rather sad that these tourists had gone half way around the world, never in a sense leaving their familiar western cocoon.
When I went down to the local travel agency to arrange flights upcountry and was recognized by the people from a year before, came to think about how everyone seems to have a very good memory. Then, however, I noted from my Burmese visa number that there have never been more than 5,000 visas granted by the Burmese embassy in Washington in a year, of them the overwhelming majority for group tours that spend a few days in the country. Thus, it's no wonder than a lone Yank in longyi would stand out!
Now I have the real fun: on my third trip to Rangoon, am the de facto expert with newcomers to the May Fair Inn, so proud to introduce them to my town and take them to the money changers, to the longyi vendors, to the best local restaurant. When my kids at the restaurant see me coming in with a set of new tourists, they are particularly solicitous of them.
There is one point on which I am adamant with tourists: every introduction to Burmese tourism I've seen strongly suggests to visitors that it is totally offensive to the locals for a person (male or female) to have bare legs. However, in their gentle kindness, the Burmese would never make comment to the tourists. Thus, I've taken it as my personal campaign to approach barelegged foreigners and bring to their attention the inappropriateness of their appearance. Happily, I've learned to do it in such a way as not to antagonize. Hopefully, these efforts are some return of the courtesy all Burmese extend to us foreigners.
When Linn, the son of my guesthouse host, learned that he had been granted a visa for study in the USA, he arranged a celebratory banquet, with me as his guest. As I noted above, he had to leave early for the States in order to get there in time for the start of classes. His family kindly carried out his wishes and hosted me at a magnificent banquet.
The locale was a lavish restaurant on a lake in the center of Rangoon, with the Shwedagon Paya temple shimmering in the moonlight at the other end of the lake. Incredible eight-course dinner, among my most memorable. What food; what service; what company! It almost tempts one to go into the student visa facilitation business full time.
Strange that it took me two years to discover that my favorite restaurant has an air-conditioned Karaoke bar on the second floor. Though I find Karaoke only slightly less offensive than acid rock, the music doesn't come on until the evening: throughout the day, the cool quiet of the second floor is a real treasure.
Had another first: deep-fried partridge - the pieces so small I can't imagine the bird to be larger than a canary. Imagine my pride when a passing native remarked: "You don't look Burmese, but you walk like Burmese, not like tourist." :)
I had brought from home a number of souvenir T-shirts for each of the waiters at the restaurant; left them one day. When I returned the next day, the headwaiter returned the bags of T-shirts to me: turns out that the restaurant owner would not permit his waiters to have the shirts, as I had not brought enough for the back-of-the-house cooks and service personnel. So I went off to the market for the additional shirts; with 32 of them, all was well. Might seem like a small thing to us; however, for most of the kids, the shirt represented only the second or third in their possession apart from their work clothes.
At the guesthouse, one of the rituals after breakfast is tuning into either BBC or CNN International on the television. It is good to have an occasional reminder of the world out there. There is particular glee for us tourists to watch the report of weather conditions back home. Further, it is phenomenal, learning of Greenspan's preemptive cut in the money rate, to see how quickly it translated into a further decrease in the value of the local currency.
At the beginning of my first weekend in Rangoon, was busily occupied with preparing my sermon for Sunday and packing for the trip upcountry. Happily, packing is rather simple: two shirts; two longyis, toothbrush (in addition to photo and audio equipment, by far the largest part of my luggage). Interesting that I found myself looking forward to getting away from my hectic pace in the busy city. In addition, the sermon was the last real work of the trip, so from then on it was pure pleasure.
On Sunday, the vicar rather surprised me with an invitation to a luncheon banquet with many parishioners. During the meal, nothing was said about the contribution from my parish in Boston to the Cathedral that will enable the repair of their roof; that, however, is the way here: so much is implicit, unsaid. The very fact that there just happened to be 100 parishioners at the luncheon spoke volumes about how much the Advent's gift was appreciated.
After church, off to the brief flight to Heho and Inle Lake. It continues amazing that Yangon Air is able to serve a hot meal with courtesy in fifty minutes, whereas domestic US carriers might serve only a cup of coffee on a transcontinental flight. Something about the cost of labor; however, there is another factor. I believe that service as a profession has all but disappeared in the West. In the rest of the world, however, service is not subjugation; rather, it is courtesy, respect, and pleasure. Although the commercial dynamic cannot be ignored, I rejoice that there are places in the world where my values are reflected. It is sad to recognize that, with the shrinking of the world and the internationalizing of Western values, it will be increasingly difficult to find the simple pleasures of flying on Yangon Air, no matter where in the world you travel.
So good to come back to Inle Lake, lack of electricity the first night enhancing with candlelight my dinner at the Big Drum restaurant. The guesthouse had installed hot water capacity since the previous visit. First day on the lake, after a balcony breakfast overlooking a cacophony of thousands using the canal in front of the hotel for their daily commute, was to be a look in on small villages around the lake, rather than the huge floating market at the other end of the lake, already seen the year before.
Take care, if you go to Inle Lake, to be quite clear in your instructions to your boatman. Mine well understood numbers in English, but apparently little else: he thought this Yank said we should visit every village on the lake.
First stop: a local festival, with games, dancing, marketplace, food stalls. One youth there approached me, indicated that it had been he the year before who serenaded me as I sat on my balcony back at the Golden Goose. All treated me as part of the family; we attended a soccer match, listened to musicians, and toured the marketplace. A truly idyllic time.
Then back to the boat for visiting another village, and still another, and on through the day. In the afternoon, we came to an island in the center of Inle Lake, apparently reserved for important government guests. The boatman had relatives working on the island; we picked them up for return to the north end of the lake.
Then, a disaster: the motor of our dugout boat stopped working. We sat immobilized in the lake for over an hour, parenthetically affording opportunity for some spectacular shots of sunset over the lake (something about my conviction that there are no accidents). Eventually, another boatman came upon us, towed us to our dockage. Thus, what I had thought would be a half-day trip nine hours later found me back at the Golden Goose Guest House, in time to get over to the Big Drum Restaurant for another delightful Shan dinner in my private bungalow (remember, last year, that each table is in a separate bungalow overlooking the lake - so irenic!).
Next day, having had my fill of the lake, and having acquired a rather severe sunburn in the day-long trip, determined to go slow, have a casual walkabout of the town of Inlay.
Another treasure: in my four hours walking through the town, never came upon another tourist, was regarded with some curiosity by the locals, most of whom had probably never before had an up-front and personal contact with a Westerner, particularly one alone wearing a longyi and sandals. All in the village were gracious, hospitable, and outgoing with me, mothers proudly bringing out their children for me to photograph, kids inviting me to join them in the lake for a swim (I declined), locals inviting me to join them for the ever-present tea at roadside stalls.
Was amazed to see how far Inlay extends from the canal; it's a sleepy town, totally untouched by the twentieth (oops, twenty-first) century. Back to Heho for the twenty- minute flight up to Mandalay. Before leaving the hotel, talking with a German couple there, learned that they were planning to spend thirteen hours on two busses to get up to Mandalay.
Arriving at Mandalay, found another example of great concept poorly executed: the government wanted to increase foreign tourism in Myanmar, decided to build a world-class airport for Mandalay, figuring that the presence of a huge airport would bring huge crowds.
Not quite: whereas it had formerly been convenient to arrive at the Mandalay airport quite close to the town, with a fifteen-minute trip to the hotel, found myself arriving at a mammoth airport with enough facilities to receive and service five jumbo jets at any one time, with all the attendant customs facilities, restaurants, and shops.
Well, didn't quite work out that way: Air France had made one inaugural flight to Mandalay, had not been back since. No other international carrier has chosen to come. Thus, this mammoth facility has no more than three turboprop local flights daily. Further, it now takes over an hour to arrive in town from the airport. Fortunately, had met a German tour guide at Heho; he noted that his wife would be picking him up at the airport, kindly offered to ferry me to my hotel.
As I had not returned last year to Mandalay, didn't know whether all would be in order for my return to the Sabai Phyu Guest House, which had taken such good care of my with my sewer calamity two years before. Well, you'd think I was a long-lost relative: the proprietor not only remembered me, but could not sufficiently express his gratitude for my having mentioned his guest house so favorably online: many have apparently come to him as a result of my words.
Was referred the first evening to a new Shan restaurant right up the street from Sabai Phyu; it became my Mandalay dining room. After roof-top breakfast with egg, toast, bananas, juice, coffee (included in the $5 nightly charge, this hotel also having installed hot water) determined to make a "pilgrimage" to the site of my accident two years ago - the shop keeper there remembered my plunge into the sewer; the absent covering of the sewer still had not been replaced.
After the day in Mandalay, another happy reunion came at New Park Hotel, Nyaung Oo. Although the manager who had been so accommodating to me in my previous visits, Mu Mu, had said she was leaving last year, she was still there.
Further, Maung Maung, the faithful horse cart driver, was there to serve a full American breakfast the first morning. Maung's horse Sue Sue transported me to the cloth painting shops so renowned in Myanmar. Spent most of the morning photographing the diverse tribes in the big open-air market at Bagan. There was a huge annual festival going on for a few weeks. So peaceful there, still not too many tourists.
One negative note: there were horrible tourists at the Royal East supper, crowding out the puppet performers; I quit it after supper, not staying for the show; so sad tourists can be so ugly! Happily, when I returned the following evening, the "ugly"s were gone; the puppet show came across with its characteristic panache. Tourists are needed for local prosperity; but may they be civil!
How could I have known that two days in Bagan were too much? My horse cart driver Maung, my waiter Kyaw, and my guesthouse manager Nu Nu were trying to outdo each other in pleasing me. Finally had a most wonderful lunch at Maung's - his wife prepared curry chicken, baked fish, soy, cauliflower, nuts, soup, beans, potato, rice - all so good. They normally have only rice for lunch. Gave me another longyi (fifth this year).
After the trip upcountry, it was so good to be back to Yangon. So peaceful here - sure :). Friends who had done an annual party in their gardens every year decided to move it over to the British Club, as night-time in Rangoon had gotten too cold - 70oF! Because it has been going down to 70 every night, the locals regard it as a cold spell, coldest in 3 decades!
Now returned to Rangoon, I'm finding things calm and stable - not so many necessary visits to be done nor tourist attractions to attend, probably the least frenetic of all my travels. Another travel hint: had to sew a button onto my shirt, could find no white thread - ended up using dental floss, with the bonus that the button is quite secure.
At a dinner party, learned that the archbishop especially wants English teaching at his seminary, as the present priests in Myanmar do not speak English well enough to become bishops. With the archbishop and two other bishops scheduled to be retiring next year, the lack of adequate numbers of English-speaking priests is creating a crisis.
The principal of Holy Cross Anglican Seminary and his wife had me to dinner, gave me a tour of the seminary's library. One can imagine what happens to thousands of books exposed to extremes of humidity and heat in a building without climate control. Many of the books have fallen apart; others are riddled with insect tunnels; others are moldy.
Further, government policy is strongly against the importation of Christian books. In addition, Fr. Dee (the principal of the Seminary) noted that he had sent $500.00 to a source of theological books in the USA; they had promised to send him several hundred books upon receipt of the money (which in Burma would pay a seminary professor for fifty months). When I got back to the States, did some investigating, learned that the source had indeed sent the books to Burma, but had put on the address label that they were to be abandoned if they could not be delivered. There are five hundred wasted dollars!
Therefore, neither the British nor the American embassy, nor the Burmese government offered any hope for getting the books to the seminary. After dinner, Fr. Dee asked if I would come by the seminary the next evening to meet the students; how many of them, I asked. All 52, he replied.
That next morning, I made one more attempt to get some helpful information from the American Center (a service run by the U.S. Embassy for Burmese to learn about the USA, but apart from the embassy, so Burmese can come and go with no restrictions). Though I cannot provide details here, suffice it to say a way was found to get the books to the seminary, one 40-pound carton per week posted for thirty weeks. We do indeed have an angel looking over us.
So I had good news for the students when I arrived back at the seminary in the evening. There were all 52 of them (39 boys and 13 girls, the former studying for Holy Orders, and the latter for Church-related occupations). Fr. Dee stayed away so the students could talk freely with me. Knowing that it is not the custom in Burma for a student ever to question a member of the faculty, I had told Fr. Dee that I expected to be paid for talking with the students, the pay being a question prepared by each student for me.
I thought it would be difficult to get the kids to start talking; once, however, we got started, they were all talking like magpies. Moreover, their questions were hardly silly or superficial.
What is the difference between God the Father and our human fathers? What is the relationship between God the Father and God the Son? What is the future of Christianity in the USA? How does missionary effort differ in the USA from the effort in Myanmar? Well, after about an hour, I began to feel quite overwhelmed; I saw what was going on.
Fr. Dee had had me come to talk with the students, knowing full well what the effect on me would be: it is almost as if everything I have been doing all my life has been preparation for that conversation. I came away after two hours of conversation with the seminarians convinced that I have to return there to assist the students - and possibly those already priested throughout Burma who have not English facility.
We will see what comes of this, but it now looks like I shall be able - after retirement from MIT in a few years - to spend the five dry months each Winter in Burma, returning to the USA during the insufferable heat and humidity of Burma's Summer. I was fortunate at one of the social gatherings with the expats to meet a well-connected British business consultant, who might be able to get me a work permit for teaching English or computer science (never theology) in one of the several private schools in Rangoon. Anything I would be doing at the seminary would be on my own.
A bit about the difficulty in speaking English: all of the students at the seminary, as all high school graduates certified in English can read and write it, but neither they nor their English teachers can pronounce it. Found that the source of this difficulty lies in the post- war period when Burma severed its relationship with England: for a lengthy period in the new regime, it was forbidden for anyone in Burma to speak English. This was the period during which today's English teachers were educated; thus, no skill at spoken English.
The students at the seminary range mostly from 18 to 22 years old, with a few in their 30's; the seminary course of four years comes immediately after the Burmese equivalent of high school. The daily routine: up at 6:00 - worship, breakfast, classes till noon, worship, snack, classes and studies, evening worship, studies till 9:00 pm.
At night, studying is done by Coleman lamps, as electricity is so expensive. Weekends are spent volunteering at local parishes; during summer break, the students go out to the countryside, where they work with local parishes. The enthusiasm, the piety, the intensity of commitment, the transparent faith of these students is so inspiring.
Why is it necessary for Anglican clerics in Burma - and especially their hierarchy - to be fluent in English? Since the Anglicans conduct half of their services in English, and since the hierarchy must be able to communicate with the worldwide Anglican Communion, English is lingua franca. In sum, the few hours I spent with the students were the absolute climax of this trip and of all my visits to Myanmar.
In fact, while I was meeting with the students and leading them in a meditation on the Pater noster, it came to me briefly that I had to start work with the students immediately. Yes, I'm convinced I have a vocation to ministry, a vocation to be a father of my daughter, a vocation to work on behalf of my residential cooperative, and so forth. However, none of the other commitments has come to me with the specific, vivid, immediate conviction that the two evenings at Holy Cross Theological College brought me.
With all of these arrangements and manipulations, I now understand the most commonly used expression in Burmese: "Ke Ti Ban" = "no problem," sort of the national creed of Burma. After returning from the seminary, was taken by the kids at my restaurant to a neat annual festival at Sule Pagoda - the whole square in front of City Hall was packed with thousands singing, dancing, performing, eating traditional foods - and all so polite - no shoving, no bad temper - a delight.
Next phase of the trip, more customary for the tourist in me. Between the paintings on cloth, the embroidery, the carvings, it is really difficult to hold back. But, available space is finite :(.
After the seminary meetings and the arrangements for shipping the books, felt I had accomplished all I wanted on the trip. At lunch with one of my expat friends, learned that the Cathedral Council is doing a "surprise" dinner for me my last weekend; she had to tell me; else, I'd probably have had other plans. I hope to have made the Council aware that, by opening the eyes (and purses) of the Advent, they have given us at least as much as we've given them.
Perhaps because it was the third visit to Burma, there was a lack of the customary sense of departure, separation - the people at Rangoon have become another key part of my life a few hours away.
There were finally clouds in the sky one day during my last week; further, the weather has really improved - down to 85oF daytime, very dry and quite comfortable. I'm a bit overwhelmed by the force of the events and people who are drawing me here. It was a pleasure, however, to begin the winding down: a most wonderful time - nothing to do, nobody to meet, no photos to take. Just sat in the park watching the smiles walk by. Could become addictive.
In Burma, both expats and locals worry that, with prosperity, will come a loss of the innocence, fatalism, and graciousness, which now characterize the people. At the dinner set by the Cathedral Council, they presented an icon of Christ, along with the most elegant longyi in my growing collection. They sent a note to the Advent people:
Your thoughtfulness will always be remembered.
May God's Abundant Blessings Be upon you all.
From the Vicar, Assistant Vicar & all the parishioners,
Holy Trinity Cathedral, Yangon
You might recall the note last year that my parish had pledged $3,500 toward the repair of the roof of Holy Trinity Cathedral; several parishioners made pledges totaling another $3,500. As transmittal of the money through conventional channels would have resulted in a confiscatory government tax, we found a way to get the dollars directly to the cathedral. Because of this, the exchange into the local currency resulted in the total amount received in Kyat (Burmese currency) to be the equivalent of $10,500. As a result of the Advent's and parishioners' generosity, the repairs have been made to the main roof; with left-over funds, a covered walkway was able to be built between the cathedral itself and the parish house, formerly a prohibitively soaking walk between the two buildings during the Monsoon season.
With the costs of labor in the USA so high, it boggles the mind to see what ten thousand dollars can accomplish when the average daily wage is thirty-three cents per day. Further, I've never seen in this country a summary of labor costs that detailed income of $12.00 from salvaging of removed asphalt.
I here quote from the note of the Vicar of the cathedral, Fr. Samuel Htang Oak, in the January 2001 newsletter of Holy Trinity,
During the past two years we were able to renovate our old Cathedral by replastering and repainting the inside of the nave of the church; replaced the wood paneling with tiles; repaired some part of the leaking roof and repaired and repainted the belfry. There are some people who appreciated the work which had been done but there are some who criticized - of course we cannot expect good things all the time. Yes, the criticism is very bad attitude but if we can accept, then there will be improvement for a better life or will serve the Lord with a more worthy heart.
Nothing is easy to us. When we first discussed about the renovation of our old Cathedral nobody hoped to get a lot of money. We dared not even dream of it, but God is very faithful to keep His promise to fulfill. Praise the Lord for the ex-parishioners of our cathedral who are living in the United Kingdom, U.S.A. and Australia for their thoughtfulness to us. And also we must give thanks to God for having connections with [people from the Church of the Advent in Boston. They have] a great heart of concern for our struggle to raise funds to help our financial needs for the restoration of our Cathedral.... We must pray for them to have more richness in life in the Lord and to have stronger fellowship for God's namesake.
We have not yet finished with the renovation of the Church. We cannot touch the two side chapels [or the] interior part of the Altar side and the Vestry which is still leaking badly.. The most urgent need is the rewiring of the whole church, and to clean and cut out the banyan trees growing happily on the church building every year. And the leaking of the roof above the nave and to repair and reaffix the hanging gutter.
How exhausting it is to think about serving the church. Just to attend the services and have communion is very easy but to be a true Christian is not an easy one because as a living sacrifice to God means we are God's instruments to be used for His service. We have promised at our Baptism and confirmed it at our Confirmation. What we promised was: to renounce the devil and all his works; to renounce the vain pomp and glory of the world, with all covetous desires of the same; to renounce the sinful desires of the flesh, so that we may not follow nor be led by them. Saint Paul mentions such kind of life as dying and living with Christ (Rom. 6:1-14). ...
If we are unity in Christ there will be nothing that we are not able to do. If everybody is living for Christ, there will be unity to work together wonders to fulfill the will of God in the life of individuals as well as within the community.
I hope that excerpt conveys something of the great inspiration Fr. Oak and his people have provided us. So those with interest in helping our fellow members of the Body in Rangoon had opportunity, either through a financial gift or through book packing and posting, to participate.
I note that the funds for the repair of the cathedral roof were in hand. These repairs are now substantially completed. Further, at this writing, 2/3 of the thirty cartons of books have reached the seminary, and all were dispatched by Thanksgiving. These thousand titles enabled the Seminary to attain accreditation.
It is so easy for us to forget, as we join in Healey Willan's setting of the Mass in the cathedral at Rangoon, that the Christian community in Burma has been specifically targeted for suppression and persecution by the civil authorities: it is dangerous to be a Christian in Myanmar.
Prior to any request for additional funds this past Spring, a parishioner made a contribution towards restoration of the cathedral's pipe organ, which had been put out of commission during the Japanese occupation in WW II. At a celebratory luncheon on Easter Day, another matched this initial contribution. The money pledged would, we thought, have been a deposit for beginning the organ repair. In fact, our joy was redoubled when we learned from the vicar that the funds not only provided for the organ repair, but also for the complete rewiring of the Cathedral.
For once, rampant inflation turns out to be our ally: with the Burmese Kyat plunging in value relative to western currencies, and with the channels necessary to get funds to Rangoon, every U.S. dollar given this year has five times the value of dollars given two years ago!
A new archbishop of Myanmar was enthroned this past June; I look forward to meeting him and seeing how my work can support his efforts on behalf of the cathedral, the seminary, and the province of Myanmar.
In detailing how we in the States can be supportive of the work in Myanmar, Fr. Oak noted in a letter, "At the moment we are in the situation of Jacob who was struggling with God to be blessed before he met his brother Esau, that he may be in favor with his brother. Likewise, we are well on the way to achieving our dreams about renovating the cathedral, with blessings pouring from God."
My final Sunday in Rangoon, following the banquet with the Cathedral Chapter, the vicar had me to luncheon;; I then took my expat friends to brunch at the Inya Lake Hotel; there, a chamber orchestra accompanied our feasting with Eine Kleine Nachtmuzik, etc - so lovely.
As I packed, I noted that last year's nine longyis were beat this year with ten to take home. If for no other reason, I have to return to Rangoon to be able to use all my longyis - where else can a self-respecting gentleman wear a skirt!?
With time change and date line crossing, I left Rangoon at 7:30 one evening, arrived in Boston 9:15 the next morning, 34 hours later!
Thought I might have trouble with too many bags, but between Ours & my longyi, all staff were very friendly and easy. This time, had my winter clothes in my carry-on luggage - taking no risks with delayed luggage.
Return to work in January was a return to increasingly hectic and challenging circumstances -the scope of work and duties for my boss had trebled, and additional staff had been hired to work with him. After all the glowing comments about my wonderful experiences in Burma, you might understand my note at the beginning that the vacation was the norm, return to work the aberration.
Happily, a major restructuring of the organization in information systems led to my being assigned to a new area. After three years in one area and operation, it has been good to be able to start with new activities and concerns. The wonderful ancillary benefit of this new posting is that it led to my coming back to the people with whom I had begun my work in Information Systems at MIT a decade before. The change of duties also involved moving office: no small challenge, to get rid of a ton of cruft.
Similarly, at home, one Saturday morning I determined to clear old magazines and so forth from a couch. Five hours later, I had carted fourteen cartons to the trash room. The distressing thing here is that, with the cartons gone, my home seems to be just as full as formerly. Oh, well, shall have a task for unoccupied winter nights.
In February, spent several days at a regional conference concerning academic computing. It is amazing how quickly the introduction of new technology is transforming the academic process: classes being taught simultaneously in Singapore and at MIT, with all the students participating live (beneficial that the two institutions are twelve hours apart - reasonably convenient hours for both sections). Further, MIT announced that it is planning to have all of its coursework up on the WWW. Now, this will not be a substitute for study and sharing at a physical campus; however, it will enable people from around the world to have a snapshot of the content of courses.
In March, the rector of my home parish in Needham was consecrated to be a Suffragan Bishop of Massachusetts; he kindly invited me to be one of his Deacons participating in the consecration. It was interesting to note how few of my fellow Episcopalians had ever seen a dalmatic, the specific garment worn by deacons throughout the Church; so good to be a traditionalist.
It was a joy in April for the first time to have been appointed Deacon of the Mass at the Easter Vigil Mass at the Advent. It was just my luck that the rector determined to get a truly massive paschal candle, this vehicle of the new Light of Christ being four feet tall and incredibly ponderous; somehow was able to process up the main aisle with it (and back to the baptistery for a baptism, then return again) without catastrophe. The sheer mass of the candle made it easier for me to intone each of three proclamations, "The Light of Christ," as required, at a higher pitch than its predecessor.
It was good on May Day to put plants out; the coming of spring was a delight, not least because some of my plants (particularly a Norfolk pine) have gotten so huge as to inhibit navigation through my living room.
So many happy events in the spring: Claudine hosted a fun birthday party for Jessica, attended by the couple who had introduced Jessica and Alex, and by Mum, who was a happy houseguest in Wollaston that night.
Was delighted to assist one of three new people taking over my duties (and expanding them significantly) with my former boss: Judy and I had had happy meetings in our co-chair function with a staff group at the Institute. The second of the three had begun previously; Mary was assuming scheduling and trip arranging duties. The third also had been working with Judy and me in the staff group; when Debi arrived in August, it was clear things had been prepared for me to move on to my new environment.
Still more fun in June: hosted for a fun dinner by a fellow resident of the Co-op whose taxes it has been my pleasure to prepare. In fact, Chris Kane is more than just another resident: it was my work to help get Chris's dog Zippy permission to move into the co-op decades ago that led to me buying in!
Another June event: the choir of the Advent had been laboring under Edith Ho's leadership to master the work of Crecquillon - an extremely prolific but now little known 16th century composer of church music who had never had a recording of his work. The release of the CD by the Advent choir was preceded by a Crecquillon concert at the Advent attended by early music scholars and aficionados from around the world. What a happy antidote for me to the cacophony so prolific nowadays!
The last of the June revels was a BBQ for Information Systems and Financial Systems people; working in the planning and execution of this event gave me first opportunity to work with the people I'd be joining in my new assignment.
It was an honor to be invited to preach at our sister parish - All Saints' Ashmont - in July. The rector there had worked at the Advent early in his ministry; we're so fortunate he has rejoined the Boston scene. Then, in August, the group with which I work in Information Systems had a harbor cruise; in itself much fun, but the pleasure redoubled when the luck of the draw gave me a free additional harbor cruise.
I began actually working in my new office in August; for the following month split my time between my old and new offices, helping my successors in the old, being delightfully welcomed by the new.
Where were we; what were we doing on 911? Just getting ready to leave for work, I heard on the radio, then watched on TV, this greatest obscenity since WW II, too much for detail in the present letter. I will, however, note with hope that it appears to me many who might have been cynical or aloof in the past are coming to a greater consciousness of our common humanity; there seems to be a greater seriousness of purpose in those attending the Advent; the youth seem to have been wakened from apathy. May God care for us in the dénouement of this phenomenon.
Three days after the attack, the 45th reunion of my Needham high school class was to take place. As I noted in the invocation at our banquet, we were indeed fortunate that God had seen to our coming together at that time; the sense of comfort, community, and continuity that came from the reunion could not have been anticipated.
A first for me, and rather unusual in general: the people with whom I had worked in my old location gave a fare-well party for me in October, even though I was moving but blocks away. This was neat, and showed that our people have a good sense of solidarity and caring.
Coming to the near past, was walking to work in November when I was seized with incredible pain in my left knee; eventually got to medical attention, found that I had sprained - happily, not torn - a tendon on the knee. Though it is not yet totally repaired, departure in a few weeks for Cambodia, then return to Burma, requires that it heal promptly.
Just weeks ago, I rejoiced to take the last of the thirty cartons of books destined for the seminary in Rangoon to the Post Office; I might arrive there before the last books!
As last year, was happy to spend Thanksgiving at Bill and Lucy's with them, Mum, Jill & Joe with their ebullient daughters, and - a first in a decade - with their other daughter Heidi from Florida. A few days later, Mum was off for two months in Sarasota - gives me great peace of mind to know that Mum is in a safe, warm, familiar place while I travel.
At latest count, there are eleven holiday parties standing between me and departure on the 22nd for Siem Rep (where's that? It's the town adjacent to the massive ruins of Angkor Wat in Cambodia). I'll arrive there in time for Christmass Day - one of my more unusual loci for celebration of the Nativity. I had thought to go to Cambodia some years ago; only recently has it stabilized sufficiently for tourists to be welcomed.
A week in Cambodia will be followed by happy return to Burma; by now, it seems less a visit than a homecoming. I hope that all of my lectors and your families have the sense of belonging, caring, loving that comes to me as I celebrate the Nativity here in Boston and back in Rangoon.
Ce-zu tin ba-deh! Thank you!
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These notes last changed 07 December 2001
