Myanmar Destruction

I know that I haven't even finished up with tales of my wonderful trip, much less talking about everything else going on, but I had to write about the cyclone in Myanmar.

(You can read the latest story on CNN.)



The devastation is horrific. My heart goes out to all those I met in Yangon- our guide Zhero, the monk at the Pagoda who gave me flowers, the little girl who showed my mom and me how to pour water on our birth day's Buddha, and the boys and girls who were celebrating their birthdays. Take a look at the pictures from my post of that day because so much of what you will see is now gone. Reports say that half of the stupas at the Pagoda itself were destroyed, over 20,000 have been killed, and 100,000 are homeless.

The Democratic Voice of Burma has information on its website. The situation is more desperate than the military junta government is telling the world.

Maybe this is the way that great change will finally come to the Burmese people. If the government really botches the handling of Myanmar post-cyclone--as it seems headed to do- hopefully the rest of the world will sit up and take notice. Shame that it takes a catastrophe of such epic proportions to effect change.

Blessings and prayers to the Burmese people.

The Taj Mahal

I will interrupt the living of life at Maison Cou Rouge temporarily to blog about the last few days of the trip. Life here has been crazy over the past week, but more on that later.

I spent the last full day on the ship off of her, traveling with a tour to Agra to see the Taj Mahal. As my mom put it "you can't come all this way and not see it." Who am I to say no?

So off we went at the early hour of 7 am with a hair-raising hour-long bus ride to the Mumbai airport- there is nothing in the world to compare to Mumbai traffic....but imagine Rome's busiest traffic circles filled with Italian drivers, throw in cars the size of Smart-cars, vintage Moscow, add the pedestrians from mid-town Manhattan, and mix well with a herd of cattle, and you begin to get the picture.

A two-hour flight later, and we arrived at the Agra airport-well, we had to use the military landing strip as we were in a 737. It has the longest runway in those parts. Sorry, no pics-they weren't allowed.

Agra is real India. Back woods India. Dirt streets and beggars. Cows and hawkers. Saw a camel pulling a surrey...

Cucumber vendors

political supporters riding ON TOP of a van

cows in the road

the gate of the Taj

and finally the Taj Mahal itself.

Shah Jihan built it for his beloved queen, Mumtaz Mahal, who died giving birth to their 14th child. (He needed to build her something special after 14 pregnancies...but I digress...)

The most amazing thing about the Taj is that it isn't white...it's shades of grey, ivory, palest pink and white

.

Mother of pearl would describe it best. The marble is almost alive with color changes. It takes one's breath away it is so beautiful. Pictures don't do it justice. It truly is the most beautiful building ever built.

After the Taj, we ate lunch- we seemed to be eating all day- then went to the

Red Fort,

which was Shah Jihan's palace and then his prison when his son (nice guy) overthrew his government and locked him up. The last five years of the Shah's life, the view from his confinement was this

he could see his beloved's mausoleum, but couldn't visit. He is buried next to her.

We then saw a demonstration of marble inlay, which is all done by hand.

Ate once again--or rather twice-once on land, once in the air...and got back to the ship at 1am.

It was a day to remember.

Political Commentary from Denmark

From one of Grumpy Guy's former colleagues --a political observation:

"We in Denmark cannot figure out why you in the United States are even bothering to hold an election.

On one side, you have a bitch who is a lawyer, married to a lawyer . . and a lawyer who is married to a bitch who is a lawyer.

On the other side, you have a war hero married to a good looking woman with big breasts who owns a beer distributorship.

There is even a question?????"

Rollin' on the River, India-Style

How does a day-long river trip sound?

If you're from Georgia, shades of the movie "Deliverance."

NOT !!!!

After the "grown-ups" pried me off the Navagation Bridge, we proceeded inland for an hour. My first land views of India were filled with color-

the greens seeming so much more vivid than Myanmar, the sky bluer, and the streets filled with women in saris of amazing hues. Hot pink, lime green, turquoise blue and lemon yellow.

White-washed brick buildings. Trees filled with red and yellow blooms.

We spent two hours cruising the Alapuzzha River and it's associated canals and lakes, which is nicknamed "the Venice of India."

The waterways are covered in water hyacinths, which float on the water, but don't muck up the motors. It's hard to tell where the water stops and the land begins. We marveled at rice paddies,

Hindu temples,

and homes built right up to the water.

Women washing clothes,

men bathing, and children frolicking in the water on their first day of summer vacation.

The weather, we were told, was unusually mild- in the low 80's F, and the breeze from the open sided riverboats was heavenly.

What we first thought was a stone wall was merely an enormous paddling of ducks..
Fast food???

Lunch at the Lake Palace Resort was delicious.
My first Kingfisher Beer in India!

The Lake Palace Resort is beautiful with its bridges and canals

But we have yet to figure out the penguin rubbish bins

A goat on a boat....where's Dr. Seuss when you need him??

On the way back to the ship, we stopped for a few minutes to watch elephants at work....and snacking.

Then back on board, looking forward to yet another sea day.

Arriving in India in Style

Resuming the saga of two weeks ago......There are ways to arrive in style....and then there are ways to arrive in STYLE.

The time--oh, my God, it's early...5:45am to be precise. Pitch black outside.

The place- deck 7 on the ship.

Cue the James Bond Theme. With secrecy approaching a surprise visit by Dick Cheney to Iraq, we link up by the elevators with my new bestest buddy, Aunty Ruthy. She was a friend of my beloved Aunty Mame and spent many happy days on the ship with her.

Now, Aunty Ruthy is a pal of the Serenity's captain. So with the okay from him, off we went to deck 11. Yep, WAAAYYYY up. To the Bridge.

From what I understand, before 9/11/2001, visits to the bridge were fairly routine. Not so anymore. Quietly shuffling down the corridor in near-darkness, past the deck officers' quarters, we reach the door and ring a door bell. Yes- a door bell- Not a buzzer, knocker, or alarm--a door bell. The door swings open, and in front of me is a wall of glass. And the deep, dark blue of the sky before sunrise and the inky blackness of the ocean.

Wow.

The next thing I notice is the silence. It's so incredibly quiet. Aside from my mom and Aunty Ruthy, there's the Captain (Mom thought it was humorous he had to put on reading glasses....), the Chief Officer in charge of Safety and Security

who also happens to be the officer at my table on formal dinners--(and whose appearance in evening dress can best be described as "yummy"), and just a handful of other officers. No sound but a line of computer type every few minutes or so. Or Chief calling out a change in course by a degree or two.

We watched the pilot from Cochin come on board,

the boat pulling up alongside the ship with what looks so effortless, but requires amazing timing. And into Cochin harbor we sailed.

What amazed me most is that this huge ship- all 820 feet/250 meters and 68,000 metric tons of her- can be manuvered within a few centimeters. Captain delicately docked her as easily as I would park my car along the curb. We THEN had to back up 6 meters because of an ill-placed fence on the quay! 6 meters. It was fascinating.

If I didn't already love this gorgeous lady, I would after that morning. She is the fairest of crafts.

I finally understand what has lured folks out to sea for centuries. I wonder if I am too old to become a sailor.