tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-126459002024-03-14T14:53:56.085-04:00The Microphones, they criedsoft-targeted and intermittent missives;<br>it's the web the way we all really use it.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.comBlogger48125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-18231788379391228292008-09-22T10:36:00.018-04:002008-09-22T15:49:48.011-04:00Myth, magic, and memory in play at Yankee Stadium's curtain call<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://www.nlbpa.com/Yankee_Stadium1.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer; width: 320px;" src="http://www.nlbpa.com/Yankee_Stadium1.jpg" alt="" border="0" /></a><br />Yankee Stadium got its grand send-off last night, and it was bittersweet to see old heroes returned for one last look at the place, even if they weren't my heroes. It's probably even more bittersweet for Yanks fans who were hoping for a fairytale, one-last-championship-in-Ruth's-House year that was not to come. Instead, Whitey, Yogi, Reggie, Babe Ruth's daughter and other Yankee luminaries came to share a moment with a 2008 team in transition, not just to a new home, but to a next wave of free agent talent and up-and-comers on whom the jury is still out.<br /><br />I wish we could see what the stadium was like <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Yankee_Stadium#1974.E2.80.9375_Renovation.2F.22Yankee_Stadium_II.22">before they really butchered it in the 70s</a>, architecturally speaking. Structurally, I'm not really sure why it's viewed as the ultimate field in the game, open though I may be to differences of opinion. But let's be realistic and note that far fewer tears like this were shed for the old <a href="http://www.baseball-almanac.com/stadium/tiger_stadium.shtml">Briggs/Tiger Stadium </a>in Detroit, or <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/american/comisk.htm">Comiskey</a> on Chicago's south side, where much baseball history also took place. It's because Yankee Stadium housed so many winning teams that it's deemed <span style="font-style: italic;">such </span>a magical site. I can't deny the existence of this particular brand of magic, and the accumulated moments of elation, especially for the Yankees fan.<br /><br />But... I've been to <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/national/wrigle.htm">Wrigley Field</a>, and from my perspective the Cubs' fan culture is as lively as that of the Yankees' while much closer to what the game is purported to be about. As an attending fan of the visiting team (and who knew Blue Jays fans could draw so much ire!), I've experienced a lot of nastiness up in the Bronx. Perhaps that hard-nosed, sometimes vicious, winners' killer instinct is part of Yankee identity, but it tends to act at odds with the Yankee class of icons from Gehrig to Jeter. I didn't see much of that ugliness in Chicago, though perhaps Cardinals fans and <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Steve_Bartman">Steve Bartman</a> can attest to different experiences. Meanwhile, Wrigley really seems to have retained most of its history. It courses through the ivy and is evident in the sale, at reasonable price, of a local brew (<a href="http://www.oldstylebeer.com/validator.asp">Old Style</a>). It extends from the <a href="http://i.ehow.com/images/GlobalPhoto/Articles/2168979/20070222-cubsgamerooftops-main_Full.jpg">rooftop bleachers adorning neighborhood buildings</a> to the unpretentious manual scoreboard, to the lack of in-game gimmickry. (Nobody ever mentions how <i>loud</i> the "House That Ruth Built" is -- with the cheers of fans, yes, but also with speakers mid-range-tweaked to destroy the Organ of Corti, blasting the lamentable "Cotton Eye Joe" in addition to regular reminders of how great the Yankees are.) Admittedly, one might argue that it's this humble hope against hope that has persisted since 1908 that keeps Wrigley honest, while Yankee Stadium basks in its luster.<br /><br />Wrigley is also truly woven into the neighborhood it calls home. Yankee Stadium has its attendant pubs, scummy bowling alley, and shops for devotees, and its fame for being famous, but can it really boast to be part of the fabric of a town, especially after the 70s renovations that sealed it off from the community? To this writer it has always seemed so monolithic up there at 161st Street, hugged by the above-ground 4 train and Interstate 87. It towers and insulates its outfield from neighbors, while Wrigley allows those rooftop cheap-seats. Owner George Steinbrenner even emerges as one who has questioned the importance of this stadium's aura, threatening at various times to move the team to New Jersey or to a New York location deemed safer. To call this <span style="font-style: italic;">the</span> hallowed hall of baseball undermines the fact that it's a league of teams, each representing their own towns, regions, local flavors, and above all their citizens, that keeps baseball going -- not one storied franchise or place.<br /><br />I've been to better sites for seeing the game; the Orioles' <a href="http://www.ballparksofbaseball.com/al/CamdenYards.htm">Camden Yards</a> and even my beloved Blue Jays' state-of-the-art-for-1990 <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/american/skydom.htm">Rogers Centre</a> (Skydome) come to mind as less expensive for a great view of the field of play. Camden of course has ushered in a number of beautiful period-style ballparks that I hope to visit in my lifetime. As a good friend and Yanks fan notes, "sure, but no one is there" to see the games in Toronto or places like it. It's true that if you build a winner, and New York can usually afford one, the fans are more likely to come -- especially in the nation's largest city. But it's also true that one can simply admire the game, even with a crowd half the size that the Bronx is accustomed to, and not require the insane spectacle and scrutiny that the sports media subjects the Yankees and their largest-market brethren to. It's a spectacle that simultaneously intensifies and cheapens the importance of the stadium. That's perhaps not the Yankees' fault, at least to begin with, but they've certainly bought into it, and they most certainly sell it.<br /><br />I think about the Brooklyn Dodgers, no less central to the identity of their city than the Yanks were, before they skipped town. The grounds of <a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/national/ebbets.htm">Ebbets Field</a> are buried under low-income housing in Flatbush. Little but a <a href="http://www.projectballpark.org/history/nl/pics/ebbets3.jpg">scratched plaque</a> reminds us of the magic, and the monumental moments, that happened there. Where the fanfare for this House Where Jackie Ran? What we saw in Yankee magic on Sunday Sept. 21, 2008 is emotionally equalled by the Brooklyn melancholy of 1957. The Mets can be lauded for resurrecting the ghosts of 'Dem Bums with a <a href="http://www.nypost.com/seven/11142006/photos/news004.jpg">beautiful new stadium</a> modelled on Ebbets, complete with a <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/sports/baseball/mets/2008/04/15/2008-04-15_mets_unveil_designs_for_jackie_robinson_.html">Jackie Robinson Rotunda</a>. If only the <a href="http://www.nj.com/yankees/index.ssf/2008/08/seats_at_mets_citi_field_will.html">admission</a> were also a little more reminiscent of the 1950s.<br /><br />But let's not kid ourselves. The Mets and the Yankees are both <a href="http://www.sportsbusinessdaily.com/article/120225">insanely profitable</a> enterprises moving to lucrative new digs, with massive taxpayer help that they don't really need, considering taxpayers can't afford their <i>own</i> homes these days. To their credit, the Mets <a href="http://www.bizofbaseball.com/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=125:citi-field-mets-new-ballpark&catid=32:ballpark-renderings&Itemid=44">appear to be taking far less</a> in the way of public funds, and they won't be forcing NYC to build new public parks to augment ones displaced by the new stadium, <a href="http://saveourparks.blogspot.com/">as the Yankees allegedly are</a>.<br /><br />Regardless, the usual rationale for <a href="http://www.nydailynews.com/ny_local/bronx/2008/06/11/2008-06-11_can_we_have_400m_more_yankees_ask.html">throwing the gift of public stadium money</a> at a sports team is to keep the team from leaving. That would have been a distinct implausibility when this venture was first proposed. Both the Yanks and the Mets trade on the New York location, aura and fanbase, and rely on these for their very well-being. A Las Vegas Yankees, or even an NFL-style Jersey arrangement, would <i>never</i> have been in the cards during the cash-flush NYC of the 2000s, if ever. Forgive me if I don't mourn for the Yankees, or if the magic of this moment is tempered by the underlying reason we face it in the first place. The team will have plenty of opportunity to re-tool its aura and make New Yankee Stadium memories with the benefit of luxury box money, further gimmicks (another Hard Rock Cafe? In 2008?) and more expensive seats.<br /><br />So, when I think of Yankee Stadium, and its relative worth, I am going to do my best to consider the friends of mine that are true Yankee fans and true baseball fans of the highest order (one of whom I referred to earlier). To them, the worth of that stadium is found in memory, not in the high revenue of luxury boxes or the great value of the bleachers. It's rooted in bonding with their fathers, for together they waited through the dismal 80s to see the team win again. It's found in the experience of going to a game, ever less accessible for the average family but still deemed worth the effort and expense for many of us. It's seen in the imperfect heroes that are elevated beyond belief by the sports media, heroes that yet interest us for their flaws, because we just might for a night see something amazing.<br /><br />Yankees fans need fear not -- theirs is still a fine baseball organization that will continue to succeed and produce more amazing moments, and it is an entertainment behemoth that can support that production. There is something lovely about the notion, though, that we can share these moments on the periphery of just <i>any</i> field (after all, the Yankees have not clinched each of their historic titles on home turf!). It's what <i>happens</i> that counts, after all, even as the surroundings change to mark the era (70s Yankee Stadium) or to mark power and glitz and big-letter-T Tradition (<a href="http://www.ballparks.com/baseball/american/nyybpk.htm">New Yankee Stadium</a>). When the hysteria subsides, we return to that power of personal memory, which, for me, eclipses one team's ownership of many great moments in one place, on even the most cherished scrap of land.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-11835596995321676002007-11-01T00:34:00.000-04:002007-11-01T00:39:46.733-04:00Stay on guardStay on guard<br />With your bones of glass<br />Making angles unnatural<br />Infrasound<br />Shaking, breaking these things not meant to fall apartJim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-91535903823392705112007-10-13T10:27:00.000-04:002007-10-13T10:46:36.926-04:00Justice, meet lack of prioritiesWe all have our little bouts with priorities. Sadly, this blog hasn't been one of my top ones lately.<br /><br />But I'm apparently <span style="font-style: italic;">not</span> as poor a judge of priorities as the American justice system. I mean, really. Could it be more transparent that our government <a href="http://seattletimes.nwsource.com/html/businesstechnology/2003926501_downloader05.html">places a higher value on the "rights" of corporate entities to make money</a> (under a now-foolish business model) than on <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/10/10/washington/10scotus.html">basic human rights</a>?<br /><br />Excuse me while I make a futile attempt to insert logic into this picture, but does the junkie who robs a record store of hard-copy CDs (not just "intellectual property") get fined $10-grand per Journey CD he lifts? Or do we have a case of a judge who is out of his mind?<br /><br />Well, score one for the <span style="font-style: italic;">good guys</span>, whomever they are...<br /><blockquote>"The landscape is still very much what it was three or four years ago," said Eric Garland, chief executive of the piracy-tracking company BigChampagne. "It's still a one-horse race, and piracy is the lead horse."</blockquote>If there is one blessing in this mess, it's that we have humble public servants like Eric Garland, Lars Ulrich and Jimmy Iovine leading our country out of a long darkness, towards justice.<br /><br />Meanwhile.... Right, about torture being bad: Our legal system can't give the el-Masri case its due because state secrets are at stake. But what if the state secret is that the state is violating constitutional rights and making up its own rights as it goes along? Am I missing something here?Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-19050842924015131482007-05-09T17:57:00.000-04:002007-05-09T18:26:06.392-04:00pulling double-dutyYou may or may not have noticed that I've been lured by one of the web's more attractive siren calls to multiple identities. A new blog has been started up by yours truly, with a mission, and the truth is I hope it doesn't need to be functional for too long.<br /><br />You see, in the days of my youth I was taught what it is to be a man. Also, I latched onto my dad's rooting interests in my favorite sport, baseball, which providentially brought me the only sports championship for a team I've ever really cared about in the Toronto Blue Jays. Sad thing is, we're a far cry from the times of Molitor, Devon White, Dave Stieb, and C&C Music Factory. We're not even battling for second place these days, our gaze fixed upward upon the Tampa Bay Devil Rays, they who are searching for their first .500+ record.<br /><br />I witnessed the <a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/mlb/recap?gameId=240721110">events that set in motion</a> John Gibbons' debut as interim and now manager three seasons ago at Yankee Stadium. <a href="http://www.cbc.ca/sports/story/2004/07/24/hentgen_retires.html">Pat Hentgen got rocked into retirement</a> and <a href="http://www.baseball-reference.com/managers/toscaca99.shtml">Carlos Tosca</a>, no great shakes himself, joined the unceremonious ranks of ex-Jays managers. Most mid-season replacements arrive in tenuous circumstances, but I could tell a few years ago that there was little to recommend Gibbons for a secure job at the helm of Toronto baseball.<br /><br />Three years later, I've not been proven wrong and it saddens and angers me, and most of all bores me to tears. So, my crusade: <a href="http://firegibbons.blogspot.com">firegibbons.blogspot.com</a>. Join it while the pitchforks are hot.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-31301643484011037542007-05-04T11:39:00.000-04:002007-05-07T16:39:28.985-04:00Useless baseball cardsFrom the fine Jays' blog the <a href="http://taoofstieb.blogspot.com/">Tao of Stieb</a>, through a tunnel of other sources comes this link to <a href="http://www.joesportsfan.com/cardCollection.php?limit=9&page=2">useless baseball cards</a>. Ruminations on Pete Incaviglia's lucky jean shorts? Eminently readable and nostalgic. Of these worthless cards, I've purchased more than a few. And I have two-thousand pounds of granite-hard bubble-gum to show for it.<br /><br />And as an aside, am I wrong here, or did Fleer's late 80s/early 90s design team include a five year-old, a blind man and <a href="http://www.random-squeegee.com/haikupics/balki.jpg">Balki Bartokomos</a>? Those had to be the <a href="http://i14.ebayimg.com/01/i/06/cf/87/70_1_b.JPG">worst-looking pieces of cardboard</a> ever sold to young sports fans.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-58158367355417571622007-05-04T10:54:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:29:51.526-04:00Who knew?No, seriously, who knew that <a href="http://suicidegirls.com/news/politics/21201/">one of the more cogent wraps of the Republican debates</a> would come from a site better known for displaying goth girls in burlesque-style skivvies and less? Not that I, ahem, frequent SG often, this honestly just came across when searching for coverage of the debates. Really.<br /><br />A sampling:<br /><blockquote>I believe the best way for a brilliant SG editor like myself to cover the debate is to take one measly quote from each Republican that makes them seem as creepy as possible. Here we go.<br /><br />How about Mitt Romney talking about Osama bin Laden?<br /><blockquote>"He will die."</blockquote><br />Settle down. McCain then had to top dead…and he did.<br /><blockquote>"I will follow him to the gates of hell."</blockquote><br />Have fun with that. And please tell me where the gates are, as I would like to avoid them. Speaking of the gates of hell, Tom Tancredo was asked about the day Roe v. Wade is overturned.<br /><blockquote>“It would be the greatest day in this nation's history."</blockquote><br />Wow. What about the day we freed the slaves? That wasn’t any good? How about the Fourth of July thingy, where we became independent? No? Fortunately, that was not the dumbest answer. That award went to Mitt Romney, who was asked to tell us one thing that is wrong with America. His answer:<br /><blockquote>"I love America."</blockquote> </blockquote><br /><br />That's four men who would be President, folks, and even soft-core sites are taking more notice than a saturated news media as to how messed up this is. If that's not enough to sour the milk in your cereal, I'm not sure what is.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-61641061515234023672007-02-10T18:40:00.000-05:002007-05-04T11:30:30.746-04:00Requiem for football seasonThe Super Bowl may be over, but cupcake season has just begun. I must say we earned our first victory of the season handily.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-o3s6nrQu2q15YVRfzWB1qCnB8DPFkhwnOAlc_R1NkpUH5C7Pds1xLeovHxvyO94IisslaQkwUC4Y4L7XJAvr6iX2oDxL6ZpBBz-FqyKEXjiyEhsNAHny33Md_AkDP_D-LMK/s1600-h/100_1451.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgc-o3s6nrQu2q15YVRfzWB1qCnB8DPFkhwnOAlc_R1NkpUH5C7Pds1xLeovHxvyO94IisslaQkwUC4Y4L7XJAvr6iX2oDxL6ZpBBz-FqyKEXjiyEhsNAHny33Md_AkDP_D-LMK/s320/100_1451.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030055332663615266" border="0" /></a><br /><br />I'm not sure I got the Prince 'artist-formerly-known-as' era symbol right, but my effort has got to be good for at least a field goal.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-F2jh6LXt1GyqHHfsppbiBjpheL_VsYTOMDQJ4P-wQKSvEzp59mZE33wGBqbeB-Z4HzMlNPINMV3mYv_AA8pKVNRvk-zl2dewJ09aj6I-8fxFh9n1Mp71La74bfpsHDmTbpd/s1600-h/100_1452.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe-F2jh6LXt1GyqHHfsppbiBjpheL_VsYTOMDQJ4P-wQKSvEzp59mZE33wGBqbeB-Z4HzMlNPINMV3mYv_AA8pKVNRvk-zl2dewJ09aj6I-8fxFh9n1Mp71La74bfpsHDmTbpd/s320/100_1452.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030055014836035346" border="0" /></a>Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-56661378445579809372007-02-10T13:57:00.000-05:002007-02-10T16:14:40.770-05:00Guy Delisle's uncommon travel writing<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbI5TRSxVwrHraLWWaouoHYuZZHJzaZVPHU07li_7e6MbaOH3bk50Fq3z2znHabHnjJ6syLLSC2HFoueXY3dn1mmYa9S3j5JjDXAmPfts_2hHXCNxgFtmSMS4x18RaR1XTXwZ/s1600-h/shenzhen.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgnbI5TRSxVwrHraLWWaouoHYuZZHJzaZVPHU07li_7e6MbaOH3bk50Fq3z2znHabHnjJ6syLLSC2HFoueXY3dn1mmYa9S3j5JjDXAmPfts_2hHXCNxgFtmSMS4x18RaR1XTXwZ/s320/shenzhen.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029999489498832626" border="15" /></a><br />I've just finished <u><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_0">Shenzhen</span></u>, the third of Canadian graphic storyteller Guy <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_1">Delisle's</span> travelogues. Like his recent account of North Korea in <u>Pyongyang</u>, it's a funny, deft and at-times slapstick survey of a Westerner's time spent in a cold and lonely place.<br /><br />Some of the absurdity, and most of the menacing Orwellian nature of <u>Pyongyang</u> are missing from this piece, making <u><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_2">Shenzhen</span></u> more personal, more about the traveller than the place travelled to. Little of this fast-growing city inserts itself into the book, despite its title. Perhaps this is by design. From what <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_3">Delisle</span> can tell us, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_4">Shenzhen</span> the city is a nondescript place, from the bare interiors of every apartment he is a guest in, to the plain high-rises being built up a-floor-per-day:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfgoiWSIe96hjG0Y_ACU9Qee-9kIJdp1JTcm8gvZzAs7uhbzfpdgc-FL_THHNGGIQLCaNYcOtc_uHCjEv2vSKZljPFN0Zf1y5jndm9pZxdM5oQTtk_7rtp3pb9B3XZQnLxgNr/s1600-h/340px-Shenzhen0.JPG"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOfgoiWSIe96hjG0Y_ACU9Qee-9kIJdp1JTcm8gvZzAs7uhbzfpdgc-FL_THHNGGIQLCaNYcOtc_uHCjEv2vSKZljPFN0Zf1y5jndm9pZxdM5oQTtk_7rtp3pb9B3XZQnLxgNr/s320/340px-Shenzhen0.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5030001057161895682" border="15" /></a><span style="font-size:85%;">Panel from <u>Pyongyang</u>:</span><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQn8m0TJLt_VGF4khlFazUGOz4xjuVVkV6bVsiGZOeFg0yKq7DTiBDfkGfAZf6UzA_DwLmTlLM7iCvionxNnEkDH8TQmyE2d76Smh-Rggerz9TYd9WuG-j69FmhwKEPeBAZ-IJ/s1600-h/books_2.jpg"><img style="margin: 20px auto; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQn8m0TJLt_VGF4khlFazUGOz4xjuVVkV6bVsiGZOeFg0yKq7DTiBDfkGfAZf6UzA_DwLmTlLM7iCvionxNnEkDH8TQmyE2d76Smh-Rggerz9TYd9WuG-j69FmhwKEPeBAZ-IJ/s320/books_2.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5029982648932064994" border="15" /></a><br />While in the <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_5">DPRK</span> <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_6">Delisle</span> found it impossible to turn his head without locating evidence of the Great Leader, politics are few and far between in <u><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_7">Shenzhen</span></u>. The author recounts just one exchange on the subject of communism, when a co-worker spots <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_8">Delisle's</span> Vietnamese star-<span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_9">logoed</span> shirt and remarks that he is "scared of Communists." China's power and stature are never truly manifested in this story; the book is concerned far more with the micro-level dealings of the animator hired on to supervise a staff he cannot directly communicate with.<br /><br />Throughout the course of the book, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_10">Delisle</span> finds easy but solitary retreat in a Western-style gym, training his muscles for no specific use. He lusts for side trips to more Westernized locales, and finds the mold growing on his desk more interesting than the stacks of animation sequences he is hired to supervise. As boring as <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_11">Delisle</span> may find his work, the employment of the animator's eye is really the story of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_12"><u>Shenzhen</u></span>. It makes sense. The limitations of spoken and written language, and the relative richness and universality of a visual one, are the subtext of <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_13">Delisle's</span> works. While the Mandarin characters drawn by <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_14">Delisle</span> look as noisy and unintelligible as they must have sounded to him, his wide panels, his close-ups, and his gift for expression speak volumes. The story's conclusion finds the author at dinner with several businessmen and he is able to pick up the cadence and facial clues to a joke told in a foreign language. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_15">Delisle</span> remarks, "that makes one thing we have in common." But generally that which we do not share, and an accompanying homesickness and solitude, dominates the book.<br /><br />It would be easy to accuse <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_16">Delisle</span> of <span style="font-style: italic;">Lost in Translation</span>-style <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_17">orientalism</span>, of approaching his subject with humor in order to maintain some authority and distance in the relationship between himself and that which he cannot understand. <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_18">Delisle</span> employs a healthy does of self-deprecation to soften these impressions, as when he earnestly slurps up a plate of spaghetti and meatballs in <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_19">Hong</span> Kong. And the cartoonist, for all his weariness, recognizes a colonialism in his acclimation to absurd levels of service by the end of the trip. It's a not- uncommon feeling for any Western traveller out of his or her element. There's always a feeling of that which is not quite right, and the accompanying feeling of guilt or impoliteness in pointing it out. It's a question of perspective, and <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_20">Delisle</span> is willing to re-visit his and view from others, even if in the end he makes plain which he prefers. Telescoping views and reductions, a gift for movement and motion -- these tools of cartooning serve the story so well, allowing the awkward narrator to exist simultaneously at the center of the reader's world, and in the middle of a place too big for him. In <u><span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_21">Shenzhen</span></u>, <span class="blsp-spelling-error" id="SPELLING_ERROR_22">Delisle</span> has crafted endearing, problematic, rapturous reading and viewing, and the frames flow by with ease.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-25377608716214555052007-01-18T11:14:00.000-05:002007-05-07T16:39:52.515-04:00Alice Coltrane, RIP<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJW3kP8or2rxoQdQ_qadS5S_-azwUE6ED80UE5dKOHJfdcT7d9_Z-z6ar0chvOkNKtFLtRG7f6OJp-4jMdk9jJZ0x81PWTBOUcUVK9YsLCkajYYtHwsUB0j0WA3b5jMZ0NZvz/s1600-h/k-coltrane.jpg"><img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheJW3kP8or2rxoQdQ_qadS5S_-azwUE6ED80UE5dKOHJfdcT7d9_Z-z6ar0chvOkNKtFLtRG7f6OJp-4jMdk9jJZ0x81PWTBOUcUVK9YsLCkajYYtHwsUB0j0WA3b5jMZ0NZvz/s320/k-coltrane.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5021412195028895650" border="0" /></a><br />Jazz pianist and harpist Alice Coltrane died earlier this week. I'd be remiss not to note her passing. Plenty of others -- even <a href="http://www.pitchforkmedia.com/article/feature/40494/Universal_Mother">Pitchfork</a>, surprisingly -- have said what can be said about her life and work better than I can express it. Whatever the quibbles with her legacy and relationship with John Coltrane and his music -- and despite her status as somewhat of a pariah to much of a jazz community that long lost touch with innovation and the jazz spirit -- her work lives on, and much of it was transcendental in a way I think her husband would have appreciated and supported.<br /><br /><a href="http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=6868236">NPR obit & re-broadcast of segment on "Translinear Light"</a><br /><br /><a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2007/01/15/arts/music/15colt.html?ei=5087%0A&amp;amp;amp;amp;em=&en=0365779e031ffc10&ex=1169010000&pagewanted=print">NY Times obit</a>Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-49337880001393898992007-01-14T01:17:00.000-05:002007-01-14T02:16:05.925-05:00Meenakshi Temple and Sticky Last Day in IndiaHello friends,<br />Amidst the good news that the Ravens and Cowboys are out of the playoffs (and we're hoping the Patriots bow out, for the trifecta of hateable franchises to be knocked out of the postseason), this will be the last you'll be hearing from us in India. We board a British Airways flight to London Heathrow at 4am Monday (5:30pm Sunday, EST), wait it out a few hours at LHR, and then we make our sleepy return to New York, home around 4pm.<br /><br />On the whole, our stay in Madurai was pleasant and our return ride in a second-class AC sleeper uneventful, if cramped.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG2C7UsWePfGaa6ZHnoOV4IWFnROEdTlbRkiuA5Ldxr74eQP8D3Vgb-jpvN6iRSrd1S0_o9ORTv4K0I-sIHAJ75kOtmGL43hB2HVUrIUkWhHKHcW-u2taQjmgMncaYzrMtIIbd/s1600-h/2ndclassAC.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019769421577783058" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgG2C7UsWePfGaa6ZHnoOV4IWFnROEdTlbRkiuA5Ldxr74eQP8D3Vgb-jpvN6iRSrd1S0_o9ORTv4K0I-sIHAJ75kOtmGL43hB2HVUrIUkWhHKHcW-u2taQjmgMncaYzrMtIIbd/s320/2ndclassAC.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jenny did come down with a bit of food poisoning that had her reeling Saturday morning, but thankfully she recovered enough for us to go visit the city's gigantic Meenakshi Temple (you can see its four towers in the <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1Bj3ZUOfu1ypJ1lTwTzNGBuIK_dGlgiDI78kRY9H8b88E_EOUsxd-s7ktGfhpRYviGRMAlr5Xz_fT6ELog_wP1-AOHmCMfqGaM1TUElnFouXSgsANn9DD5xCXW9I53PHau5g/s1600-h/madurai2.JPG">Madurai skyline photo in a previous post</a>). It is quite a sight to take in.<br /><br />South India is famed for its Hindu temples and it's really quite a privilege to get to them. As with many religious places, some parts are off-access to people who aren't followers of the faith, but there is still much to be seen. An obvious contrast is how much commercial activity surrounds the temple. Where Western religions generally hide any semblance of connection with the worldly and the economic, here these aspects of life are intrinsically linked with the temple. Markets selling religious trinkets and icons, jewelry, and even knock-off Nike gym bags and toys are within the outer walls. Here's Jenny buying some bracelets:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PM6FTihy_Ln9KnzFh9EEt5WEwb9HQpO-IyFopuEhkYSNmlL6HsWfgVgrAQ-3F-dl2jogFZQRKVPKC41AmPF7TcUqv4OdQIaqz1eG84aV2DnUKoUsrFQlj6NaQjNSl-Efxw_p/s1600-h/100_1432.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019772294910904098" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8PM6FTihy_Ln9KnzFh9EEt5WEwb9HQpO-IyFopuEhkYSNmlL6HsWfgVgrAQ-3F-dl2jogFZQRKVPKC41AmPF7TcUqv4OdQIaqz1eG84aV2DnUKoUsrFQlj6NaQjNSl-Efxw_p/s320/100_1432.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Even so, this was a surprise:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FLDH4anYTw_dqAIu8Za8IRIC5DGz1b179rUoWsuKO6JUfsHxE_L-NMQZeeQzIfnAxyvB3tqZ_1zsujA9yaiBi1k3Ox1ZzzGLKiwP0l7osrv2Png082oJ0nsWAdZhXprr0Xoe/s1600-h/100_1419.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019772299205871410" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6FLDH4anYTw_dqAIu8Za8IRIC5DGz1b179rUoWsuKO6JUfsHxE_L-NMQZeeQzIfnAxyvB3tqZ_1zsujA9yaiBi1k3Ox1ZzzGLKiwP0l7osrv2Png082oJ0nsWAdZhXprr0Xoe/s320/100_1419.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />More temple shots:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtMwpeWrztrL496mT0uQUhyphenhyphenVuUgx2fT6c1fPg8wvCHRybgVRWNwvyQdRLUtUQe7XBzEeOlsLsy2k231kvJ0PZZAE_S1HfgdmRpEWeNcSgwMixxsyrdPsnFhpT9K8RmSRu9yJU/s1600-h/100_1410.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019775486071605058" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYtMwpeWrztrL496mT0uQUhyphenhyphenVuUgx2fT6c1fPg8wvCHRybgVRWNwvyQdRLUtUQe7XBzEeOlsLsy2k231kvJ0PZZAE_S1HfgdmRpEWeNcSgwMixxsyrdPsnFhpT9K8RmSRu9yJU/s320/100_1410.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />In addition to praying to the god of their choosing, Hindus will dress and decorate the statues of gods in the temple and take a blessing:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcz0UGb2Ul-iuMh9Awsye924lg_qYxxQKyx2UTi-qlNHAmG4h8zsRSWvlhuj5iQXZTaDqfapIrB2dHORTpo6wMuOzUne9didN3ULl3TTU0TUDdn57R6pzH9kCyhE-Ljg-pi-Mn/s1600-h/100_1424.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019775490366572370" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcz0UGb2Ul-iuMh9Awsye924lg_qYxxQKyx2UTi-qlNHAmG4h8zsRSWvlhuj5iQXZTaDqfapIrB2dHORTpo6wMuOzUne9didN3ULl3TTU0TUDdn57R6pzH9kCyhE-Ljg-pi-Mn/s320/100_1424.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYr83z-rFryrOjZJL__l6g-qOjrGuMtsGr-d18XRl134nphDIm2EWMLAp5b-CNH4QZBWgEwTiLHlC9ApwCMRNin8ayRXxPvLyNxd3yXW8ipIJsh1IcK6_2um-yY-k3XAwFO_C/s1600-h/jim&temple.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019775498956506994" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRYr83z-rFryrOjZJL__l6g-qOjrGuMtsGr-d18XRl134nphDIm2EWMLAp5b-CNH4QZBWgEwTiLHlC9ApwCMRNin8ayRXxPvLyNxd3yXW8ipIJsh1IcK6_2um-yY-k3XAwFO_C/s320/jim&temple.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jenny being blessed by a trained temple elephant:<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFr4oDFAcGcTzmp3lk2JC-hPQPNolCUACL4mFyT4xyI7j7VVzuszpWJgtTuZXe7B8CU9TSQMlCP7lE5ZQHhjrhsVZQyCaVgzkqDQPftcJcCS0wMCgIwnzuI31OvVBkDlfdoX2/s1600-h/j&elephant.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019775494661539682" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaFr4oDFAcGcTzmp3lk2JC-hPQPNolCUACL4mFyT4xyI7j7VVzuszpWJgtTuZXe7B8CU9TSQMlCP7lE5ZQHhjrhsVZQyCaVgzkqDQPftcJcCS0wMCgIwnzuI31OvVBkDlfdoX2/s320/j&elephant.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />And yesterday we finally made it to Apollo 96 "bar to have world's performed light and sounds," the once-proud Madurai experiment in retro-future leisure. As they say, "make a happy flight to Venus in Apollo 96." Its 76,000 diodes seem to have lit better days, which was pretty much in keeping with the apparent downturn of Hotel Supreme (again, we'll let Rough Guides off the hook this time). I did manage a decent (or at least strong) beer though, and there were a good few Westerners in there smokin', drinkin', and killin' time. Note the triangular door; however, their airlock was broken.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-fts5xe2SwNuxaldIZOtCg0HThX7OG4aB-TqsODMq3NJDf16woVSs17dUnbPpM8U9UJU_8vNlzY3K08LF3G2ZP7bUwVj8cACxYfjlOP0-uVJWmrhC2soIKoFwoKCPITznGNK/s1600-h/100_1438.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019778900570605442" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhp-fts5xe2SwNuxaldIZOtCg0HThX7OG4aB-TqsODMq3NJDf16woVSs17dUnbPpM8U9UJU_8vNlzY3K08LF3G2ZP7bUwVj8cACxYfjlOP0-uVJWmrhC2soIKoFwoKCPITznGNK/s320/100_1438.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Sunday our train pulled into Chennai-Egmore stati0n, and our friend Feroz met up with us there to help us catch a cab. Even after two weeks, it's a bit startling how much you can be looked at as a dollar sign (or Rs- if you want to be literal). Though we make painfully clear we're not interested in buying things or catching a ride, every available driver or hawker is interested in giving it a shot. It was nice to have him there to help us out at such an early hour, not knowing in detail the way back to Harjit and Ritu's.<br /><br />So upon arrival this AM, we re-connected with our bag, which was easy because it was sticky and mildewey, as were some of the contents. What a wonderful surprise! We cheerfully did two loads of laundry and washed the bag over and over, and will be thanking British Airways ever so much for handling this matter so deftly and capably. Veins will not explode from our necks when we meet their personnel tomorrow. No, of course not.<br /><br />Thanks for reading, fellow travellers. Wish us a safe sojourn that includes the safe and clean return of our luggage, with us, tomorrow, in NYC. We're looking forward to getting home so much that I actually woke up on the train from a dream about chocolate cupcakes, drooling Homer Simpson-esquely. No joke. Best to you all. And for those who have inquired: yes, this blog will continue. This trip has been a great opportunity for re-launching it, and we hope you've enjoyed keeping up with us.<br />Love,<br />J&JJim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-11367230859821751872007-01-12T09:55:00.000-05:002007-01-12T10:45:59.269-05:00Photo catch-up and Madurai pt oneFirst are some photos to accompany yesterday's blog. These two are from Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary.<br /><br />We saw some majestic elephants, before our wildly excited tour-mates decided to scare them away. Periyar could have hired a guide to get people into some nature-tour etiquette.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxC1gYUO3Na-9h33wNiHGEhdUYhKuxQMnkdxa4LlgzFSbyzxk-3pt-zovJ60xzDpjt0v-ymqO0HaOJMte7_UIyGbRpcWMD0V8VCBEI3NmJ8eO671OumWGRHPrd7QbL9KLXJIuC/s1600-h/periyareleph2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxC1gYUO3Na-9h33wNiHGEhdUYhKuxQMnkdxa4LlgzFSbyzxk-3pt-zovJ60xzDpjt0v-ymqO0HaOJMte7_UIyGbRpcWMD0V8VCBEI3NmJ8eO671OumWGRHPrd7QbL9KLXJIuC/s320/periyareleph2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019164101771986514" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Monkeys, monkeys everywhere! They sure liked playing near the visitor centre. We held tightly onto our camera and ice cream cones in their presence.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5349NPKDxANvyDPnA1eRna5iKvwCi4-2EoWjhoEDmq7R-SVTcOyB5wBPqLgI-55piJbmFlDhXTd6-5kg6NlFqBoJqwfIoOUxSYVGc30QLqh932BkkOPXe_QpnGGlaCzO-8od_/s1600-h/monkey2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5349NPKDxANvyDPnA1eRna5iKvwCi4-2EoWjhoEDmq7R-SVTcOyB5wBPqLgI-55piJbmFlDhXTd6-5kg6NlFqBoJqwfIoOUxSYVGc30QLqh932BkkOPXe_QpnGGlaCzO-8od_/s320/monkey2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019164106066953826" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This one was a little more contemplative, eating a leaf. He came pretty close to us.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BgkH64GGllxuNv_H8SOKUN0PRvu6z0WoOaB1c_gGzeq4ICD4BNX01P5FPtpf20jdjz1JoIpE0pC8sF77Q7eyu6xW6ZVj8Uy8OqKtPZBOSnUIg8iSSnFVPM9_BblTA0uw-lqm/s1600-h/monkey1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6BgkH64GGllxuNv_H8SOKUN0PRvu6z0WoOaB1c_gGzeq4ICD4BNX01P5FPtpf20jdjz1JoIpE0pC8sF77Q7eyu6xW6ZVj8Uy8OqKtPZBOSnUIg8iSSnFVPM9_BblTA0uw-lqm/s320/monkey1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019165257118189170" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The next day we took the 3-hour drive to Madurai. As we mentioned yesterday, the scenery was reminiscent of the American Southwest:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiav8zDzakOUhI97TTCPn6l6RkjdnZgi_uhH60OTarwC9W4oS0jDa-ZqhbRzxCjK2pHrF44liInC1JVOHHZrCJOlQ1rw-sRRJnsdsiDMAmy2Z4-dDnSfOILRRGw5hUiUKstHRg/s1600-h/ghats.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiav8zDzakOUhI97TTCPn6l6RkjdnZgi_uhH60OTarwC9W4oS0jDa-ZqhbRzxCjK2pHrF44liInC1JVOHHZrCJOlQ1rw-sRRJnsdsiDMAmy2Z4-dDnSfOILRRGw5hUiUKstHRg/s320/ghats.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019166322270078610" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And these views are from the top of our hotel in Madurai, the Golden Park.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZc_tfFzK66Kip2482GuojO46m_jGg6MZ_eHsuBvQMWTvOOdX8vE8nB_xMZKdAf8O9h1-UdO4YZ8dhpdscG9h4_6SxoRfB8oVucIKzpiMlDMIrWDCCqJm8KMKBf5aIJlLP_TaF/s1600-h/madurai.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZc_tfFzK66Kip2482GuojO46m_jGg6MZ_eHsuBvQMWTvOOdX8vE8nB_xMZKdAf8O9h1-UdO4YZ8dhpdscG9h4_6SxoRfB8oVucIKzpiMlDMIrWDCCqJm8KMKBf5aIJlLP_TaF/s320/madurai.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019165265708123778" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1Bj3ZUOfu1ypJ1lTwTzNGBuIK_dGlgiDI78kRY9H8b88E_EOUsxd-s7ktGfhpRYviGRMAlr5Xz_fT6ELog_wP1-AOHmCMfqGaM1TUElnFouXSgsANn9DD5xCXW9I53PHau5g/s1600-h/madurai2.JPG"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI1Bj3ZUOfu1ypJ1lTwTzNGBuIK_dGlgiDI78kRY9H8b88E_EOUsxd-s7ktGfhpRYviGRMAlr5Xz_fT6ELog_wP1-AOHmCMfqGaM1TUElnFouXSgsANn9DD5xCXW9I53PHau5g/s320/madurai2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019170325179598594" /></a><br /><br />Today our travels brought us to Ramashwaram, yet another 3-hour drive. It is home to the Ramalingeshwara Temple, which was unfortunately closed to us. We did take some photos of the exteriors and outer hall. The outer temple is not painted brightly like many of the other temples in Tamil Nadu. From the looks of it, the inside was more colorful. Around here you can see people getting ready to drench themselves in water at each of 22 stations as part of their pilgrimage. We also spotted a monkey perched at the top of one of these towers!<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwk7NV281xuqOIn2xmXrqP-RFYaLuHG6EI5vbgjjjm0bkpMlxzCR2wozLw0fp4exVQyKNfiUIkYtwRLsuSdlOfT5C_z8A5JSqcs_s7tBKzJxcIRhdYzw_7ra01qn2ThrNPPen/s1600-h/temple1.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCwk7NV281xuqOIn2xmXrqP-RFYaLuHG6EI5vbgjjjm0bkpMlxzCR2wozLw0fp4exVQyKNfiUIkYtwRLsuSdlOfT5C_z8A5JSqcs_s7tBKzJxcIRhdYzw_7ra01qn2ThrNPPen/s320/temple1.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019166326565045922" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The ceilings of the outer temple are painted with many of these round panels. As you can see from the second photo, the halls are pretty magnificent.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvMq2oU9P111sZIEo-LvSioslk3V5EJK3L5E6Yahs_WN7PBaiQnvuOYR-juoLZxvmIMuamnmY_QhvCPF41tNU8SsmnA_0MPw-rHfW5heQleNOBntfPt5moZXPrzvnzpfxyod0/s1600-h/100_1374.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOvMq2oU9P111sZIEo-LvSioslk3V5EJK3L5E6Yahs_WN7PBaiQnvuOYR-juoLZxvmIMuamnmY_QhvCPF41tNU8SsmnA_0MPw-rHfW5heQleNOBntfPt5moZXPrzvnzpfxyod0/s320/100_1374.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019167924292880050" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzipTU-Q3dVX_mEzWc0JWgBo9zq_1dOt_rrhGWvdBn_2figBpDMkm4BTk1OXyr73aSPnR04EDFJ4QTJqTZCPCmULMk4arwKS9yEN8qEBaK5SrtkDpq6AbMyjbDgKNaLVIrYwE9/s1600-h/temple2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzipTU-Q3dVX_mEzWc0JWgBo9zq_1dOt_rrhGWvdBn_2figBpDMkm4BTk1OXyr73aSPnR04EDFJ4QTJqTZCPCmULMk4arwKS9yEN8qEBaK5SrtkDpq6AbMyjbDgKNaLVIrYwE9/s320/temple2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019167932882814658" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And the last stop of the day took us toward Adam's Bridge, the string of islands where India meets Sri Lanka. <br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimg0pE0kbtwstEi8oIt6yXnsiFriyrLBKPmMeboJt1cBrg9eXpRKVi_qOIxQZEYu9RDCEhZtWjYXZTxFIIhvfC5wHBbEJNVDLNSCqvQKeJVdQTUekWQamy9UHKiH3yEKfivQRF/s1600-h/100_1381.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: middle; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimg0pE0kbtwstEi8oIt6yXnsiFriyrLBKPmMeboJt1cBrg9eXpRKVi_qOIxQZEYu9RDCEhZtWjYXZTxFIIhvfC5wHBbEJNVDLNSCqvQKeJVdQTUekWQamy9UHKiH3yEKfivQRF/s320/100_1381.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019169212783068914" border="0" /></a><br /><br />This area plays a large part in Hindu mythology, and is home to a big shantytown that was another easy target for the 2004 tsunami. Poverty was evident to an extreme both there and in Ramashwaram; open sewers, every other building dilapidated or just made out of palm fronds to begin with, yet people carry on and figure out a way to make life work. We were accosted by several young Indians who wanted their picture with us, and to shake our hands. We obliged, of course. You see trucks like this overflowing with humans all the time.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSwmB3YVhzIT6PAbSqQQ0syjfxmGUQxV0AnPlmn-vtpQ7BZ7Kj0myGfGPkegsnAc2sPDXWthV_C3Mdt-zpds1iQhfmoZvpgVrq1yYfjb43T2A2EjfFrkixMWEudLjSAHeWu6Z/s1600-h/truck.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: middle; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSwmB3YVhzIT6PAbSqQQ0syjfxmGUQxV0AnPlmn-vtpQ7BZ7Kj0myGfGPkegsnAc2sPDXWthV_C3Mdt-zpds1iQhfmoZvpgVrq1yYfjb43T2A2EjfFrkixMWEudLjSAHeWu6Z/s320/truck.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019169204193134290" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispTC9tUorutiuRG_X3e4dtzlwmpTSLd3O_KtRhU1uTdJDWlsV4bs9JqJ4goZBrAJbRlruHiGsv7smPDfxyjkaMymZIqo6g_sOWMBq0qVNwEVl6-_gM1KVg361Kp1KeFvFgocZ/s1600-h/100_1386.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; float: middle; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEispTC9tUorutiuRG_X3e4dtzlwmpTSLd3O_KtRhU1uTdJDWlsV4bs9JqJ4goZBrAJbRlruHiGsv7smPDfxyjkaMymZIqo6g_sOWMBq0qVNwEVl6-_gM1KVg361Kp1KeFvFgocZ/s320/100_1386.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5019169208488101602" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We'll try to post after our temple visit tomorrow. Thanks again for reading! J&JJim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-6912316606313034832007-01-11T08:40:00.000-05:002007-01-11T09:02:07.780-05:00All words for today!Hi everyone. It's a photo-less blog for today as we're sans USB access to upload our photos. But we just wanted to drop in with a bit of an update.<br /><br />We were mobile once again yesterday as the bandh was lifted locally and travel was possible. Little did we know we'd be travelling on the worst roads we've ever been on. The road from Munnar to Thekkady is about 80km (yes, we're getting used to the metric system, sort of; it's about 45-50 miles). But about 35km of that is composed of large rocks, foot-deep potholes, and sharp curves. That 35km takes about two hours to cover!<br /><br />We finally made it to Thekkady thanks to our relentless driver Kabil, who, despite his preference for a sub-zero car interior and refusal to heed our semi-informed directions on occasion, is pretty much a saint. He brought us to <a href="http://www.periyartigerreserve.org/">Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary / Tiger Reserve</a>, where unfortunately, a tiger sighting is pretty rare. We did, however, spot a bunch of elephants, lots of monkeys, some wild boar and deer (yes, we know, you practically can't turn on your car in WNY without running over a deer -- not that exciting) and cormorants and herons. It was a nice trip and a pleasant boat ride through the lake, obnoxious teens blasting Hindi hits on their cellphone speakers notwithstanding. We also managed to pick up some locally-grown spices (a big part of Kerala's success).<br /><br />Today we bid adieu to Club Mahindra and Munnar, goofy and fun as it was. Our route to Madurai included a truly awe-inspiring trip through the Western Ghats out of Kerala and into Tamil Nadu. It reminds of the American Southwest a bit, where there's just flat land for miles and then some truly majestic mountains right smack in front. The experience was not hurt one bit by the fact that the roads were actually manageable for more than 20 feet at a time. More monkeys were seen, including some really tiny ones holding tight to their mothers, and we had to halt a few times for some herds of goats.<br /><br />Madurai on first impression is a bustling city, yet it feels far less overwhelming than Chennai -- certainly more breathable and finer-smelling. It's known for its temples, which we're going to check out in the next few days, and is close to tomorrow's day-trip in Rameshwaram, 20 miles away from Sri Lanka.<br /><br />We also swapped hotels after about an hour and 200 rupees ($4-5). The Hotel Supreme ain't as Supreme as the otherwise super-reliable and informative <a href="http://roughguides.com/">Rough Guide</a> to South India proclaims. We were so looking forward to its <a href="http://www.supremehotels.com/apollo.htm">space-age night club</a>, a pleasure we may yet indulge. The place we've moved to is new and clean and smells of fresh paint, which we can deal with, and it costs the same (roughly $30 a night).<br /><br />Look for another entry with photos before we cast our fates to British Airways yet again. Until then, best to all of you and Happy Birthday to Matt! J&J.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-66383842520540775822007-01-09T09:46:00.000-05:002007-01-09T10:23:07.454-05:00More from KeralaHowdy, vicarious travellers!<br /><br />First off, we never let you all know, our luggage did come, but British Airways failed to process several messages from us that we're no longer in Chennai. So, most of Jim's clothes and some various gifts etc. are back there while we're in Kerala. Oh well. We'll get our revenge.<br /><br />We promised more from Kerala so we're going to try and catch up here. We last left off in Cochin. A little background on the city -- it was a big hub for the spice trade and features quite a diverse mix of cultures. Kerala in general is more Christian (30%), and Cochin at one time was home to a thriving Jewish population. Like dolts we visited on a Saturday, and our Jewish friends would note this is about the dumbest time to try and check out a synagogue (it was closed).<br /><br />The Chinese fishing nets in the previous blog post are a remnant of similar cultural interactions, and are still in use and fun to watch. A bustling market around it includes places to buy and cook up the fish, right there.<br /><br />It's also said that most of the best dining is to be found in hotels. We've had some decent meals in most of the ones we've visited and stayed at, but they have imported 'our' music to varying effects. At the Taj Residency in Ernakulam, we had the pleasure of watching "Cochin's Only All-Girl International Pop Band," a trio of ladies from the Philippines (three vocalist, one a synth wiz) sing: "Smooth Operator," "Hotel California," and other such hits. They weren't so bad that we couldn't get a laugh out of it, and it sure beat today's panflute version of "Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds," during which I died a slow death.<br /><br />"Material Girl" count on this trip: 3.<br /><br />We also wish to report that this blog is being written in the midst of a rowdy game of Bingo at the Activity Centre.<br /><br />After Cochin we went on a thrilling 24-hour boat ride through the backwaters of Kerala. Here are some photos:<br /><br />This was the sort of boat we rode on (though not ours, obviously). There were a good number of them on the water.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPriR1RFTilw0_nctVDSji7ul2G52znSqZoD61Wj9ZjO5sdSB0_g7TXSWAeHb_SUdkdHfB4sGb308pTYDBgErJFw5hERZhd7R4G-qwonfI_j2hWboWSWTVk8LfiI2zLzVN_QfS/s1600-h/thehouseboat.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018043023789605730" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPriR1RFTilw0_nctVDSji7ul2G52znSqZoD61Wj9ZjO5sdSB0_g7TXSWAeHb_SUdkdHfB4sGb308pTYDBgErJFw5hERZhd7R4G-qwonfI_j2hWboWSWTVk8LfiI2zLzVN_QfS/s320/thehouseboat.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcN86TIVXaASF8WExWKF9RkjayPyH6WdG5pj3nTbDzAEHPVRHqgfaQfH7Nl9XZMafNQQXlD86niPxTLs6EeSpIKkffOOXXycIGta-ayPEuIYXpfBBAdXMl0_UQmAjCQPhsKfk/s1600-h/100_1247.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018051398975833058" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrcN86TIVXaASF8WExWKF9RkjayPyH6WdG5pj3nTbDzAEHPVRHqgfaQfH7Nl9XZMafNQQXlD86niPxTLs6EeSpIKkffOOXXycIGta-ayPEuIYXpfBBAdXMl0_UQmAjCQPhsKfk/s320/100_1247.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jim looking like William Reid of Jesus and Mary Chain. Just like honey.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLr4i2uscTnfWYMCm_t_ogPbzp86E0hcFF0GDpuIAmA-xw_eN7coiLs_R973oyj2w_4bDC8F-B-bGL8_wA_3SskpabA9ajlluaj1Yicab_WqMxp6PNtcRfHK-0J2SMfFrXOvW/s1600-h/j&mc.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018043401746727794" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfLr4i2uscTnfWYMCm_t_ogPbzp86E0hcFF0GDpuIAmA-xw_eN7coiLs_R973oyj2w_4bDC8F-B-bGL8_wA_3SskpabA9ajlluaj1Yicab_WqMxp6PNtcRfHK-0J2SMfFrXOvW/s320/j&mc.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Jenny drinking straight from the coconut. She's a wild one.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwMLT8teDpb26d01Xjo7822CbO3zLasu340sUcgFXXWU5VjYWakP5d6BSJXr20T7QMPpBTFC4VsBRqsIsfzUz24hpk9DaZzEDsEg0eYdKp3pwVGz2q2R3Cq82k-yMbCHxgcys/s1600-h/coco.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018044058876724098" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiwMLT8teDpb26d01Xjo7822CbO3zLasu340sUcgFXXWU5VjYWakP5d6BSJXr20T7QMPpBTFC4VsBRqsIsfzUz24hpk9DaZzEDsEg0eYdKp3pwVGz2q2R3Cq82k-yMbCHxgcys/s320/coco.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A nice sunset and sunrise from the boat.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLHMeAowa0ojOrTXAT667Qm2c7DkvIyMmhMMWODYFFLO4mR1HT9vDFty9LpVdKWy67lT9pj-IqDNNZxjdCfHMlZ6wcZUlFXh92RF1xxMHdzEVCNwcXkivozVx8KxeyFphu4IZ/s1600-h/sunset+boat.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018045098258809746" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYLHMeAowa0ojOrTXAT667Qm2c7DkvIyMmhMMWODYFFLO4mR1HT9vDFty9LpVdKWy67lT9pj-IqDNNZxjdCfHMlZ6wcZUlFXh92RF1xxMHdzEVCNwcXkivozVx8KxeyFphu4IZ/s320/sunset+boat.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypAUsk-wTMgINapdr3vDcwjkc8sw1zElthLNcKXHiQ8yGXq6YjIpPP4awnpDMrW5Y-ZEyZltZFKNbSt5HS4ig1ROoyxv8bsUz1qC7wjKxMdOYc5FS7J9eP4QrQleszuNH5o85/s1600-h/boat+Sunrise.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018045102553777058" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiypAUsk-wTMgINapdr3vDcwjkc8sw1zElthLNcKXHiQ8yGXq6YjIpPP4awnpDMrW5Y-ZEyZltZFKNbSt5HS4ig1ROoyxv8bsUz1qC7wjKxMdOYc5FS7J9eP4QrQleszuNH5o85/s320/boat+Sunrise.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />We also got to listen to Michael Jackson, Madonna, and some horrible ballad-y dreck before we requested that we hear nothing we could ever be assaulted with back home. Luckily we were obliged with some Malayalam hits of which the worst only had a cheesy guitar solo.<br /><br />So that brings us to our current port of call, Munnar. It's a semi-terrifying 4-hour car ride from Cochin to here. Winding, curvy, one-car-width roads of varying reliability, and it's shared with buses, trucks, and the occasional auto-rickshaw that has no business driving at these grades. The city proper is a scruffy little place surrounded by the lushest, most beautiful tea plantations. The Zoroastrian family Tata owns most of the tea out here in the mountains. In addition to tea this family controls a lot of the automobile, telecom, and wireless communications in the country. And people get on the Waltons.<br /><br />Saw this waterfall on the trip here.<br /><br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQKHAGPIrN8WiCNpN7HF3dy9vZSVYbl2P5QGMXoKlNtCQPyfd0MgtljrkXlDKb2M4weojA9nk6n82ThLnLgjNpEWaE1SUOMlSu2lFkxAMXwpX4BYj9ueDNhhwRxu7RfSXr5OT/s1600-h/waterfall.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018046966569583538" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhPQKHAGPIrN8WiCNpN7HF3dy9vZSVYbl2P5QGMXoKlNtCQPyfd0MgtljrkXlDKb2M4weojA9nk6n82ThLnLgjNpEWaE1SUOMlSu2lFkxAMXwpX4BYj9ueDNhhwRxu7RfSXr5OT/s320/waterfall.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><p>As we hinted earlier, we're staying at this somewhat strange resort (Club Mahindra) and due to the bandh (strike) we were sort of cooped up here today. We were greeted by a serenader with a 'Givson' guitar and a harmonica in a creatively different tuning: "Welcome to your resort / You are here for fun." Today Jenny was treated to an Ayurvedic massage, an authentic Kerala experience. She recommends it (particularly if you enjoy being completely covered head-to-toe in oil by a total -though very nice- stranger). She also recommends a shower following.</p><br /><p>It's not all been bizarre or oily. We had a rather nice 'soft trek: harder version' up the mountains with some excellent views and the thrilling experience of being in the midst of fast-moving clouds. If there's one thing this place does offer it is breathtaking scenery.</p><br /><br /><p><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaaqQBrPRfyTepEeari60EigEYTP4XCSq7F1ONqJf-G9U67WCAs-NEIGeaSoDOlioOSzooasEsZ4ldGMOKagPh-2p7S8Q0m77Jq2AUw6PlhnBIbi3ObydCYjYiDvDOTHHrEuy/s1600-h/munnarTEA.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018049672398980034" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOaaqQBrPRfyTepEeari60EigEYTP4XCSq7F1ONqJf-G9U67WCAs-NEIGeaSoDOlioOSzooasEsZ4ldGMOKagPh-2p7S8Q0m77Jq2AUw6PlhnBIbi3ObydCYjYiDvDOTHHrEuy/s320/munnarTEA.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Pointsetta growing wild!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaatT2CMZefklRS605b9T2PoFP3VWNn5nx6Bh1tJbYVlrPBPfCdgEp7G9e8X5QhTsPZgotV2OIEP1mQxviECZeB2Yw6tsvcaU1SyUzWst5kb7_VV9GqCpEZPxs0ZUjVJeb1lDl/s1600-h/pointsetta.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5018049676693947346" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaatT2CMZefklRS605b9T2PoFP3VWNn5nx6Bh1tJbYVlrPBPfCdgEp7G9e8X5QhTsPZgotV2OIEP1mQxviECZeB2Yw6tsvcaU1SyUzWst5kb7_VV9GqCpEZPxs0ZUjVJeb1lDl/s320/pointsetta.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /></p><br /><p>We are hoping to make it to Periyar Wildlife Sanctuary in Thekkady tomorrow, with the bandh lifted. Then it's off to Madurai, which should bring its own different pleasures. Hope this finds you all well. You'll hear more from us soon. J&J.</p>Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-82307561591824582522007-01-08T07:44:00.000-05:002007-05-04T11:29:31.608-04:00Kerala and commies<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtKkfzeUJcHno6KS-LeLBFFyx9xK3HHgH_NGO-t_KBkk52xrt7YI2LXNZqikSGFQQ9N-pFmqxOXkDkK0n1YkA2btHqP1Tt0ioZhloJRmnXtSrMuovn7Akh-vWX8-a0VyKO-Qk/s1600-h/commies.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017639915339072306" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNtKkfzeUJcHno6KS-LeLBFFyx9xK3HHgH_NGO-t_KBkk52xrt7YI2LXNZqikSGFQQ9N-pFmqxOXkDkK0n1YkA2btHqP1Tt0ioZhloJRmnXtSrMuovn7Akh-vWX8-a0VyKO-Qk/s320/commies.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><div></div><br />Like peanut butter and chocolate, Keralans and progressive politics go together oh-so-good. They have one of the few democratically elected socialist governments in the world, a 99% literacy rate, and this on top of some of the most beautiful terrain we've ever seen.<br /><br />Reminders of this political orientation as in the above photo abound here in Kerala, and we're actually sort of victims of it for the next day, where a strike due to the arrest of a beloved political figure is making it a bit wiser to stick to the resort area and avoid crowds and the indication of being unsympathetic to the cause. We don't feel unsafe, of course. We're not resort people (those of you who know us know this) but it was booked for us by our friends Harjit and Ritu, who were to be travelling with us but didn't make it due to health issues. It is in the midst of some strikingly beautiful tea country. We'll post phots of this soon.<br /><br />In the interests of chronology, here are some shots from Cochin, our point of arrival in Kerala:<br /><br />The Chinese fishing nets at the shore of the Arabian sea:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVc4Jw9aldYNfGLzrrfIst1SegVd3Utcp091y_BUfZjsMrl4bOn7d8P14L_Tjp53UAHpTPCLHnUj8cyCZkA7vsDkjBYviDuuSIHFUiTu988Eu4y_Yt9kYrSsTXmH3stS29XtcQ/s1600-h/100_1144.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017643231053824834" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVc4Jw9aldYNfGLzrrfIst1SegVd3Utcp091y_BUfZjsMrl4bOn7d8P14L_Tjp53UAHpTPCLHnUj8cyCZkA7vsDkjBYviDuuSIHFUiTu988Eu4y_Yt9kYrSsTXmH3stS29XtcQ/s320/100_1144.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Jenny at this <strong>awesome</strong> cafe, the Kashi Art Cafe, a favorite for Westerners - us included. Great coffee, ethical presentation, fine atmosphere and mouth-watering chocolate cake!<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUGOYuCb-1_I8piTkOYqht3N7LJ59D7eWVYsMqohoYy6kVseiRvjyJHsLVukgEJlpsXIRexQ-2g-mQpPUZH-46melxxhMXovMBqsPVh2Q_L47X5drMRfcbkaeQizYutftLqar/s1600-h/100_1151.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017643239643759442" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgEUGOYuCb-1_I8piTkOYqht3N7LJ59D7eWVYsMqohoYy6kVseiRvjyJHsLVukgEJlpsXIRexQ-2g-mQpPUZH-46melxxhMXovMBqsPVh2Q_L47X5drMRfcbkaeQizYutftLqar/s320/100_1151.JPG" border="0" /></a><strong></strong><br /><br />Others are breathing down our necks to use the one computer here, so more pictures coming soon! Lots of love to you all,<br />J&J.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-27203160978648946812007-01-08T07:20:00.000-05:002007-01-08T07:42:22.899-05:00India pt 3AWe've been enjoying ourselves too much to post a lot lately but thought it'd be nice to give you an update. Here's the first installment, wrapping up our last few days in Tamil Nadu.<br /><br />One of our days was spent in Pondicherry, a former French colony with some amazing architecture and a lively temple. This elephant greeted us outside of it:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8uhn214oDMrdRhUJodL5sa21562fNWWsaL9HDjKlMa6UDDPYRc6mo9ixcSSbkjw1OGT_WAJBPYnJE9oVNgTQJFCmfTbsQfTJhGYTjEOFsaGyrrDZM_xNjAHEi2bXXFKdlN2V/s1600-h/100_1057.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017634460730606274" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhg8uhn214oDMrdRhUJodL5sa21562fNWWsaL9HDjKlMa6UDDPYRc6mo9ixcSSbkjw1OGT_WAJBPYnJE9oVNgTQJFCmfTbsQfTJhGYTjEOFsaGyrrDZM_xNjAHEi2bXXFKdlN2V/s320/100_1057.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />And here's some of the beautiful European architecture -- one of the homes near the Bay of Bengal and a French-language school.<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF16gkN4_ilOHlzzUTPr86fSdTUQwiXnxq-inCTKpsiPTDThfjsCFYtU_w7blNuB3zcuUnEYQbkZ2YLLNOjeZ4hW1DnIfU1mkv-9-6swgcMn_MOoPETE3PNl4cKZJGkKXFfYYU/s1600-h/100_1055.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017635315429098194" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF16gkN4_ilOHlzzUTPr86fSdTUQwiXnxq-inCTKpsiPTDThfjsCFYtU_w7blNuB3zcuUnEYQbkZ2YLLNOjeZ4hW1DnIfU1mkv-9-6swgcMn_MOoPETE3PNl4cKZJGkKXFfYYU/s320/100_1055.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_16u3x2f-QmpK9aGbklCz8KgQMErrG1evYmQ4-TeBB5aMRaUawYh6QMRG8gyMUw3GZ_6ESp2ZiQgOCNv5W2-OS4W5s5i1JO60f1WDS8S19ApkB-T9ysoxjXOa2RAzGUkqILV/s1600-h/100_1060.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017635319724065506" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF_16u3x2f-QmpK9aGbklCz8KgQMErrG1evYmQ4-TeBB5aMRaUawYh6QMRG8gyMUw3GZ_6ESp2ZiQgOCNv5W2-OS4W5s5i1JO60f1WDS8S19ApkB-T9ysoxjXOa2RAzGUkqILV/s320/100_1060.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />We haven't really informed you all of how we've been getting around (more on that in the next post), but having a driver is a big asset and a pretty common one around here. Driving, as in most of the former British colonies, is on the left. That's fine. But the preponderance of auto-rickshaws, seeming absence of lanes, seatbelts without buckles (nobody uses them, even when they are in fact full seat belts as in the front seats), motorbikes carrying a family of four, and random cow crossings make driving something no sane foreigner would do in India.<br /><br />Though our friend Harjit drives, his wife does not, so they have hired Feroz, a guy who seems to be about our age. He can hit the gas pretty hard and he knows his way around. He also speaks Tamil and we don't, so he proved to be immensely helpful during our stay in Chennai.<br />Also, when we were trying to get a prepaid phone card and didn't have the passport-size photo the store seemed to assume everyone possesses of themselves, Feroz whipped his out, and got the phone in his name for us. Awesome. We got to know him a bit despite the language barrier, and he shared his favorite music and movie stars with us.<br /><br />Here's Feroz, along with some other random TN driving shots:<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDfF1Lu9wFRsCTcvagx7cBKLKO4Ucw8PeRHJLSdiu4wQu7CrKLT4j3iy38nOPzsFep3TjyJYI8xzngGUtiIwvSNGO376dOM7lhgDlCH7Sxt4cMDd4UWFFguoKExVrk58HffiZ/s1600-h/100_1071.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017637737790653170" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHDfF1Lu9wFRsCTcvagx7cBKLKO4Ucw8PeRHJLSdiu4wQu7CrKLT4j3iy38nOPzsFep3TjyJYI8xzngGUtiIwvSNGO376dOM7lhgDlCH7Sxt4cMDd4UWFFguoKExVrk58HffiZ/s320/100_1071.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Elephant in the slow lane:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsQ-NS5KMpIDhNp33ZjvVkWKYOXpA6E9hoCTh18tYIYIB8KjRN1UmLwy73GwWxUtxX9s20Rc16EVQBHg4GEBg969GaDbgAl3jozuc-1gt60B_x3d2F63pCm9szssZd8FxdZ7u/s1600-h/elephant.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017637737790653186" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXsQ-NS5KMpIDhNp33ZjvVkWKYOXpA6E9hoCTh18tYIYIB8KjRN1UmLwy73GwWxUtxX9s20Rc16EVQBHg4GEBg969GaDbgAl3jozuc-1gt60B_x3d2F63pCm9szssZd8FxdZ7u/s320/elephant.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br /><br /><br />When the Bills win the Super Bowl, you can bet your ass we're going to "Dizzee World"!<br /><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShODROfex_rFvtpZ1EXKRQGmDpP9tLxRj9451VNUsxuJdSOPMiv-vmMDcxAwQUt2BpQOlZfqegO9ivMOINaxFwILrs56kQpdvpewA6B3lecfsu05nYrfIJKpX6gUdPGHWEWaD/s1600-h/100_1118.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017638661208621842" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjShODROfex_rFvtpZ1EXKRQGmDpP9tLxRj9451VNUsxuJdSOPMiv-vmMDcxAwQUt2BpQOlZfqegO9ivMOINaxFwILrs56kQpdvpewA6B3lecfsu05nYrfIJKpX6gUdPGHWEWaD/s320/100_1118.JPG" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Sort of like riding in the back of a pickup truck, if less NASCAR:<br /><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5017638665503589154" style="MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; CURSOR: hand" alt="" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrpfNGVTm8_8Lh7s4PZAWh0YjmqfpnpcHuQUb860CJ6aA5dmnDKT1hTRbJGTyNGydgxMuU0ryCu5p4ZYDeQ0nepYx7LkEUs39OsFX16o1ONdlnEnQL-5U4zuQ5AZNadO39nz1V/s320/100_1046.JPG" border="0" />Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-22208639853833008512007-01-03T10:34:00.000-05:002007-01-03T10:57:44.385-05:00India, installment 2On day six here and still waiting for one of our bags. British Airways can go do some anatomically impossible things to themselves.<br /><br />That's about how we feel in the mornings when waiting for the word, then we move on to enjoying our days. To some extent that's included picking up some new clothes, but we've tried to buy some things we can't get at home, or pieces that would be much more expensive back in the US and A.<br /><br />We found out when we got here that the Chennai Open, the first ATP tennis event of the season, coincided with our visit. So, avid tennis fans and Rafael Nadal lovers that we (especially Jenny) are, we forked over the $1.25 (Rs50) for tickets. The total tab for snack, drink, tickets and auto-rickshaw home was a paltry $8! It's enough to make one use excessive exclamation points, especially when compared with the $30-plus it costs for one ticket to an event such as the US Open (with its admittedly more interesting field). In addition to the dreamy Nadal, we saw highly-ranked fellas such as Carlos Moya and David Nalbandian, the fiery Argentine who proceeded to lose his first-round match for some reason.<br /><br />Some photos from the event:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1RYr7yAjGpoYrgWd4_PNsxYDe1ooyPgQPLthR5UdWpClxOn_msaQOS5N2TK0z9wmG24sbm8nqA_KtDFjkGcvoCfAxZJLeyXhCNBoDrBIgLOH0AwULN3ChGuNsT58i2rdpNCf/s1600-h/tennis3.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZ1RYr7yAjGpoYrgWd4_PNsxYDe1ooyPgQPLthR5UdWpClxOn_msaQOS5N2TK0z9wmG24sbm8nqA_KtDFjkGcvoCfAxZJLeyXhCNBoDrBIgLOH0AwULN3ChGuNsT58i2rdpNCf/s320/tennis3.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015830294516726578" border="0" /></a><br /><br />The stadium<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhZMi1Xliyj5IkaWwzlUrlNS1cQEMAFMB1QPsPtIpwKUz7HdX_JaYuvzqYCj7CAnkPSp2zAi7gP33tfclXj6avg39Gf9rt1XV4He6KFVyOFhqn7YlLSIXlZTbmV2b1FuAEFYb/s1600-h/rafa2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDhZMi1Xliyj5IkaWwzlUrlNS1cQEMAFMB1QPsPtIpwKUz7HdX_JaYuvzqYCj7CAnkPSp2zAi7gP33tfclXj6avg39Gf9rt1XV4He6KFVyOFhqn7YlLSIXlZTbmV2b1FuAEFYb/s320/rafa2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015830822797704002" border="0" /></a><br />Jenny's new boyfriend. I can't compete with that.<br /><br /><br /><br />We also made it to a terrific dance performance this evening at the Madras Music Academy, the first-such one ever held there. I'll report more specifics about it another time. I'm running up a tab of over 25 cents here at the Net Cafe so I have to keep this short.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WtR8ximyRNGpwa8_seuKsfEAWDsr5X1bq-4xX9BOBZ3n_gez5hkLJuyWBuXLSpx6PSslOfBuzwZUtuv_bTEi_eIh5bEROYowETh-pwORlMvE7FO0gKTHOrFaFXWH0qQb1O3O/s1600-h/dance2.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4WtR8ximyRNGpwa8_seuKsfEAWDsr5X1bq-4xX9BOBZ3n_gez5hkLJuyWBuXLSpx6PSslOfBuzwZUtuv_bTEi_eIh5bEROYowETh-pwORlMvE7FO0gKTHOrFaFXWH0qQb1O3O/s320/dance2.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015831441272994642" border="0" /></a><br /><br />A note to world-travellers: when you pack for a place that, on the whole, doesn't use toilet paper, bring it in your carry-on. We are sad to report that we have become TP thieves. Scenes of the crimes: upscale restaurants and hotels, shopping malls, etc. I am really beginning to understand the thrill of theft.<br /><br />And here's our shower:<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9q1fn59FqplzBAPHs3LjQXx-DAUeq0x7A-nufy-xYXMDwsgryW5JvbVkpp0_05Cq7WJofRzeqD24c_TemjiwA0aAFfohwYVyd8y0oX4_49X8H087B65uGZR1j4nehIAOzSknW/s1600-h/shower.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9q1fn59FqplzBAPHs3LjQXx-DAUeq0x7A-nufy-xYXMDwsgryW5JvbVkpp0_05Cq7WJofRzeqD24c_TemjiwA0aAFfohwYVyd8y0oX4_49X8H087B65uGZR1j4nehIAOzSknW/s320/shower.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015833597346577298" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Random observation and accompanying photo #4569: In Chennai there are temples EVERYWHERE you look. Big, big ones like the Kapalishwara Temple (famous and not accessible to westerners, though yours truly had an 'in' last time), and smaller ones for any god you can think of, like this one:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKoEDig0vA7rFsqLZoXgNb_nGoM53wg4e3yFbsnUW0dZtqc0AHdeBwc1NIV90PK6iaHfKQ8c3sToUzBP1LsqfSaOCGwGYbYhZmoSxbKnIM0tVbXoY5GlPbcPsWGHRtoPeE7Iy5/s1600-h/temple.JPG"><img style="margin: 0pt 10px 10px 0pt; cursor: pointer;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKoEDig0vA7rFsqLZoXgNb_nGoM53wg4e3yFbsnUW0dZtqc0AHdeBwc1NIV90PK6iaHfKQ8c3sToUzBP1LsqfSaOCGwGYbYhZmoSxbKnIM0tVbXoY5GlPbcPsWGHRtoPeE7Iy5/s320/temple.JPG" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5015832218662075234" border="0" /></a><br /><br />Hope this finds you all well, and keep your fingers crossed for the arrival of a giant duffle bag to our doorstep in Chennai.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1167719830495213612007-01-02T00:50:00.000-05:002007-01-02T01:37:10.550-05:00India! (part one)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/646701/100_0946.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/334388/100_0946.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><br />Drowsy and more than a little muscle-tired, we arrived in Chennai on December 30. We've had some ups (exciting tours of old temple ruins, over-the-top Bollywood films, and New Year's with new friends) and downs (mainly late-arriving luggage, but also some leftover travel-cold/sickness that's not helped by the poor city air).<br /><br />For Jim, the trip has been a re-awakening of visual, sonic and various olfactory memories from his stay in the city in 2000. Jenny is experiencing this all for the first time, dusty roads, colorful signs, garbagey garbage, the real feeling of being in a country of a billion people, and more.<br /><br />Here are some photos from the trip so far:<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/824085/100_0952.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/680503/100_0952.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Street view from top of a restaurant in Chennai.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/461853/100_0957.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/413931/100_0957.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Jenny enjoying three firsts: the inaugural piece of chocolate cake of 2007, her first such dessert in India, and her first piece of Indian clothing (well, the first one she purchased here, anyway).<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/737030/100_0975.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/912864/100_0975.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Jenny and our friend and host Ritu conversing near one of the temples at Mahabalipuram, just south of Chennai.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/395549/100_0974.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/94773/100_0974.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />One of said temples.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/954826/100_0989.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/399800/100_0989.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />The two of us near some sizable stones that are inexplicably balanced - another pic we have shows Jenny in front of a very large rock that would be rolling towards her if we lived in an Indiana Jones movie.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/899307/100_0995.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/431141/100_0995.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Sunset at the lighthouses at Mahabalipuram.<br /><br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/1600/233381/100_0998.jpg"><img style="float:middle; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/x/blogger/6025/1081/320/686228/100_0998.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br />Shantytown laid to waste and being rebuilt in the wake of the tsunami, taken on the way back from Mahabalipuram.<br /><br />Coming soon: tennis in Chennai, more dance and music, and most exciting: our trip to the southwest of India - Kerala!Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1152887171155802322006-07-14T10:20:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:30:30.747-04:00Sports writing for the 21st centuryGreat sportswriting is a genuine rarity these days, as every joker with a dialup connection and an opinion is offered the chance to become an expert. And while I frequent ESPN.com for information (looking for trades that won't happen and news on the teams I follow, and often instead finding the 30 billionth article written this week on Barry Bonds), the writing is generally subpar.<br /><br />So when one finds respite from the generally neandearthal analyses, and stumbles upon a couple of gents who <br /><br />1) know of what they speak,<br />2) write about it really, really well,<br />3) apply a generous dose of humor in their tropes, and<br />4) they happen to support <a href="http://www.bluejays.com">the team you root for</a>...<br /><br />well, it makes one happy, that's all. And I can tick off all four qualifiers for the two who pen the sophomorically-monikered <a href="http://47milliondollarbj.blogspot.com/">47 Million Dollar BJ</a> (hence named for best closer in the bigs BJ Ryan, signed by Toronto for a king's ransom this offseason -- and worth every looney).<br /><br />What the 47MDBJ does really well is, it encapsulates what I'd call the two most important characteristics of baseball: a wild fascination with statistics (recently attempting to account for "behemoth" Troy Glaus' inexplicable stolen bases), and a nature conducive to storytelling and narrative that has kept this sport alive for over a century. What this game is about, always about, is stories -- every stat has a history and every player has a backstory (former Jays' hurler Cory Lidle's fear of SARS a few years back is also thrown into the most recent entry). ESPN doesn't do this well -- the stats become parodies of themselves, where a batter's slugging percentage in domes on August weeknights is actually supposed to reflect something, when it doesn't. It tells no story.<br /><br />Kudos to the 47MDBJ for reinventing the genre for a team that doesn't get much pub in the division of Yankees vs. Red Sox. Sadly, they only blog accounts of games they attend. Somebody get these people some season tickets.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1150204640344518692006-06-13T09:07:00.001-04:002006-06-13T09:33:04.506-04:00Your Remix in the Bush of GhostsI'm familiar with a few past attempts at offering source materials and individual tracks on the web for multi-user remixes, but I've never before seen this type of offer made for a seminal record. Usually it's part of a hype strategy for a new release, not one that has already influenced thousands of musicians and can be cited as one of the original "cut-up" albums. Labels do this to generate interest in music that might <span style="font-style:italic;">need</span> all the help it can get, like the new Nine Inch Nails record.<br /><br />Heroes/producers Brian Eno and David Byrne have changed all this by <a href="http://bush-of-ghosts.com/remix/bush_of_ghosts.htm">offering original tracks</a> (in uncompressed .wav format [!] and cheesy .mp3) of two cuts from <span style="font-style:italic;">My Life in the Bush of Ghosts</span> ["A Secret Life" and "Help Me Somebody"]. This is to coincide with the expanded re-issue of the record, 25 years after its initial release.<br /><br />I'm a little slow on the uptake on this one (the offer's been standing for a month or two, now, and I just finally got to the site) but I'm looking forward to the fun.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1150177118181396852006-06-13T01:04:00.000-04:002007-05-07T16:39:04.221-04:00I'll kill myself if Portugal doesn't winIt's <a href="http://fifaworldcup.yahoo.com/06/en/">World Cup</a> time, and none too soon. Baseball is nearing the end of the tiresome, pitching-starved middle quarter, hockey has lost all its charm with the Sabres' exit and the gift-wrapping of Lord Stanley's cup for Carolina, and <a hef="http://i.a.cnn.net/si/2005/basketball/ncaa/specials/ncaa_tourney/2005/03/20/sioc.day7/t1_0320_roadtrip.sleep_sioc.jpg">basketballzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz</a>. <a href="http://sports.espn.go.com/sports/tennis/french06/news/story?id=2479425">Federer got served by Rafa</a> in the French, tempering slightly the incessant talk about history and Federer's place among the all-time greats. What better time for the world's most popular tournament to arrive to bring us together in competition-slash-<a href="http://www.sportsline.com/worldcup/story/9494532">ass-whupping</a>-that-will-likely-make-your-average-American-tune-out?<br /><br />Jokes aside, it's finally dawned on me how good the Cup is, a showcase for a sport that's accessible to just about all the world (not just the portion that can afford the best equipment/training/beer commercials), and a real opportunity to explore the meaning of playing for nation. For all the jingoism in the post-9/11 U.S. media environment, this is a concept that doesn't really mean anything to most of today's Americans. We are regional creatures when it comes to our sports, and if we talk about anything national it's only to discuss what outcomes will play best in major-media markets but ignoring any consensus bonds, perhaps because we have so few - a discussion thoroughly covered in the political realm. Even the Olympics, our favorite opportunity to rally around the nation's athletes, mean less than they used to here. I'd attribute this partially to the loosening understanding of what passes for sport in this country. Poker players consider themselves athletes. Mountain-climbing is not a personal activity/hobby but an 'extreme sport.' Our nation probably leads the world in the invention of sports, because when we tire of one we can trade it for another. In such a highly fractured region of society, the greater bonds of national sport (and in particular a rather ancient sport) function as just one of many options rather than an occasion for national kinship, hysteria, fandom, and pride.<br /><br />The other thing is we're just not anywhere near the greatest at this particular sport. In much the same way that everybody loves a winner, everybody pretty much ignores a loser, unless the losing is of <a href="http://boston.redsox.mlb.com/NASApp/mlb/index.jsp?c_id=bos">epic proportions</a>. In the history of the Cup, Americans have pretty much been losers. They have access to some of the best training and standards of living of any nation in the competition -- but lack the passion.<br /><br />Meanwhile, the rest of the world delights. Netherlands tries to erase a past filled with unfulfilled promise. Germany tries to win it at home. Racial problems do exist and can't be swept under the rug. The Czechs kicked our behinds. Will Africa send a team (or two) to the second round? Is Brazil just too damned good?<br /><br />It's all too fun to ignore, even for an American.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1150174885450216312006-06-13T00:54:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:29:31.609-04:00more terror problematicAccording to the <a href="http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/11/world/middleeast/11jordan.html?ex=1307678400&en=862d8920aba04bce&ei=5088&partner=rssnyt&emc=rss">New York Times</a>, the recently (and thankfully) deceased Abu Musab al-Zarqawi was able to -- you guessed it -- use Iraq as a breeding/training ground for terrorists. All the talk of <a href="http://www.whitehouse.gov/news/releases/2005/06/20050628-7.html">fighting them abroad</a> kind of becomes moot if, in so doing, we sow seeds that will shift the fight not just to our own turf, but to that of any allies we may wish to be making/keeping in this fight.<br /><br />About the only thing that sucks more than being right is being part of a minority opinion that's right, or of a majority that doesn't care enough to effect change in leadership.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1149346221708073462006-06-03T10:41:00.000-04:002006-06-03T10:51:16.526-04:00SSM goes public + updateBy all accounts, the <a href="http://mediastudies.newschool.edu/projectmsps/exhibition.htm">CHANNELS exhibition</a>, part of the <a href="http://mediastudies.newschool.edu/projectmsps/index.htm">Media Space|Public Space</a> project at the New School, was a success. Our opening brought in a good number of visitors, Friday's SONIC CHANNELS show attracted over 60 people, and I am guessing a few hundred people were able to experience the F-Train edition of the <a href="http://www.mtrainieraudio.com/ssm/">Sonic Subway Map</a> for the first time. <br /><br />Nothing was perfect. I found that kids can be the best testers of an installation (or anything, really) by virtue of the fact that they just don't follow the rules. So, one gets an idea of what can go wrong when one mashes a keypad, or pushes a button on a mouse that the designer never uses, but a user might. All quickly remedied problems. The design of a system-specific touch interface for the next time out will be helpful.<br /><br />For now, I take a deep breath (and break) with it as I begin to seek out funding and other spaces to show it in.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1147325794684425462006-05-11T01:18:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:32:13.581-04:00Red signals aheadBeing locked in a 30 footlong metal box with 40-50 other people has a way of bringing out the worst in human beings. We begin to want to lash out at anyone and anything. In the hour and a half taken to go roughly 5 miles, the woman playing Ms. Pac-Man on some portable electronic device with the volume on 11 becomes less a mere nuisance and more of an evil soul worthy of all the hate one can muster. Her husband screaming at the gentleman who can't take it anymore becomes, well, frightening. There's enough rage going round to make the lights flicker, heads banging the walls to the point where they shake. The ugly feeling that anything could happen -- that people might follow one another off the train and come to blows -- takes a moment to subside before cooler heads prevail and the anger recedes back into the more tepid usual response of rolling eyes.<br /><br />The frustration of being slave to public transit has hit me twice this week, and I've realized it's in part because the MTA is so poor at communicating. When a message is shared, it's over speakers that sound something akin to Edison's first phonograph. Most of the time, there just is no message. It's left to the rider to figure out after an hour that, no, there are no trains coming.<br /><br />Or, there's a message but it's meaningless. The phrase "we have a red signal ahead" doesn't really tell me anything. Is it because your signals are screwed up? Is it because there are problems on down the tracks? Should I get a cab? Does "momentarily" really mean 90 minutes? Could you tell me if it will take less time to swim the East River, shower, wash my clothes and then head home than to take this train four stops? If so, could there be some signage indicating this so I can take another train before it's too late, or book a hovercraft rental? In this age of endless information saturation and availability, the MTA's reliance on redundant, meaningless messages and cryptic explanations wear thin, to say the least.<br /><br />I'm a strong proponent of public transportation, particularly when it is not powered by fossil fuels. All the same, a little reliability goes a long way and the New York City transit system pushes it often.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1146701549079472872006-05-03T20:04:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:32:13.582-04:00this is what i saw. this is what i saw.the sky was pink-lavender tonight<br />like I'd never seen.<br /><br />faint traces of <a href="http://www.curbed.com/archives/2006_05_fire.jpg">yesterday's billowing black</a><br />yielding to Orwell/Barbie monochrome<br />like I'd never seen.<br /><br />for a short instant:<br /><br />a rainbow pouring out of an<br />as-yet-unfinished-high-rise<br />(1BR [only] $500K)<br />making promises of a future<br />at the<br />top.<br /><br />for somebody.<br /><br />far away [but not really] over the cement-lot ballgame<br />ruins chain-smoking themselves to <br /><br />death<br /><br />ready to yield to the phoenix of luxury<br />soon to rise from the ashes<br /><br />I'm breathing this in.<br />I'm taking it all in.<br /><br />the neighbors are back,<br />collecting their belongings.<br /><br />the across-the-street windows are no longer glowing<br />no one is screaming.<br /><br />they are just taking it all in.<br />they are just breathing it all in.Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-12645900.post-1144257501172804272006-04-05T13:16:00.000-04:002007-05-04T11:31:18.751-04:00Commonwealth Blues<a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6025/1081/1600/100_0370.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6025/1081/320/100_0370.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a><br /><a href="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6025/1081/1600/100_0361.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://photos1.blogger.com/blogger/6025/1081/320/100_0361.jpg" border="0" alt="" /></a>Jim Briggshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/06073006507514290075noreply@blogger.com0