Intriguing India and an Aussie Wedding Week

There is one major advantage for an Australian living on the other side of the world: every other country on the way home is on-route. This is one reason why another family wedding back in Australia (the second in six months) gave me a rather convenient excuse to pop in to India.

There were other reasons too: I have become increasingly intrigued by India, with its colour and diversity, its cricketing dependency and its culinary delights. Also of particular work-related interest is the acute challenges of water management in such a rapidly urbanising society. There were two other convenient excuses: my friend and West of Scotland cricket team-mate, Barrington (Barry) Rowland hails from Bangalore, and my ex-church minister and his wife also live in India.

While the trip itself was convenient, the timing was awkward: I left a painfully short Scottish summer for a monsoonal India and wintery Australia, my makeshift tour guide Barry was stuck in Scotland while I would hang out with his family whom I'd never met, and I would have to fork out for yet another flight back to Australia. Despite all this, the trip would certainly prove to be worthwhile.

On Friday 22 June, I flew out of Glasgow 3 hours late due to typically poor British weather, and subsequently missed my connecting flight out of London Heathrow. After standing patiently for hours in a number of different queues, I was fortunate enough to be booked on a direct flight to Mumbai the next morning which was due to arrive only 2 hours after my original flight. I arrived safely in Mumbai in time for a domestic flight to Bangalore... unfortunately, my luggage did not. This didn't arrive until Tuesday. In future, it's unlikely that I'll fly British Airways, and even less likely that I'll fly via London Heathrow if it can avoided.

The domestic flight out of Mumbai was also delayed by about 2 hours due to heavy monsoonal rains (proper rain, not any of this wet mist they get in the motherland). Barry's father had patiently waited for 3 hours at the airport. This was typical of his hospitality and generosity for the four days I spent in Bangalore. I was treated very well. The first picture shows Barry's parents, his cousin and his friend alongside me. The second picture shows a colleague who was my chaperone while I was in Bangalore, pictured in front of Barry's house.

I arrived on a Sunday and was hoping to visit a church service in the evening. I checked out the church next door to my hotel, but instead was pointed on to the nearby Sacred Heart Catholic church. Once around the corner, I saw thousands of people crowding the street in some sort of procession. In the midst of this swarming mass of politely-dressed Indians was a flowery mobile stage, upon which sat a priest (apparently visiting from Manchester) who was being showered with petals by four angelic-looking children. The procession progressively moved and then paused at variation stations along the route, where there would be either a blessing by the priest, tacky Christian keyboard music played and/or sung by a number of competing and cringe-worthy musicians, or there were some prayers being recited.

We were a major traffic hazard, although somehow vehicles managed to squeeze past the edges of the group, assisted by occasionally-animated police officers. When we finally returned to the church premises some 1.5 hours later, we were herded into an open air quadrangle. The surrounding buildings were replete with hanging neon lighting and the dirt floor also doubled as basketball courts. The formalities of the short service were lost on me, although I managed to have a good chat with one of the local guys there who had grown up in the church. I had, he told me, stumbled upon the annual Sacred Heart Feast, celebrated on this day by Sacred Heart churches around the world. This procession was the culmination of the 10-day feast. I'm not sure how this compared to other such events, but apart from being impressed at the crowds that were drawn and my chat with this congregation member, there appeared to be little there that commended Jesus to the general public. Still, spirituality seems to be much more in the public sphere in India.

My four days in Bangalore seemed to go particularly quickly. I was treated to a range of Indian foods, both from high quality restaurants and street vendors. I experienced the noises (car horns and Muslim prayers at 4:45am), the smells (spices or dead animals), the traffic (10 minute wait to cross one road), the spirituality (Hindu temples and religious processions), the TV (Bollywood!), the wildlife (cows lining the median strip), dodgy rickshaw drivers (bargaining for every last rupee), the affluence (palaces and 7-star hotels) and the poverty (beggars with disabilities).

On a day trip by bus to Mysore, I saw some glimpses of rural India and tourist India. I was impressed by the quality of sandalwood and silk products and the persistent salesmanship of the roving sellers who swarmed to the westerners! The ancient Hindu temples had stood the test of time, although the associated merchandise was awful: one man gave me a flower upon entry to "offer" to the god, and when I returned with a flower still in my hand he demanded that I pay him money to receive a blessing... I gave him the flower instead and said that I knew how to get a blessing for free! One amusing highlight was a motorised water fountain with lights and movements choreographed to a range of popular Indian and Western music.

From the chaos of the city of Bangalore, whose population has doubled to over 6.5 million people in the last 2-3 years due to the economic prosperity offered by the IT industry, I flew to Pune, a relatively tame satellite city to Mumbai containing only 4.5 million people. My ex-church minister and his wife, Graham and Heather Simpson, hosted me at the Bible Seminary where Graham teaches. Being closer to the coast, Pune experienced more monsoon rains than Bangalore, and there was hardly a moment where God's tears were stemmed. This enforced time off with my temporarily surrogate parents turned out to be a blessing in disguise, knowing that my week in Australia would be non-stop action. Other than being transfixed by books on Everest climb attempts, I was also invited to share how my faith impacts on my working life to about 200 residential students at morning chapel, and was able to watch the Wallabies beat the All Blacks in the first Bledisloe Cup rugby match.

Fortunately enough, there happened to be an Indian couple at the Bible Seminary who were also heading to Australia from Mumbai on the same flight as me. So, we squeezed five of us (including driver and compulsory relative) plus our luggage in a medium-sized hatchback for the 3.5 hour drive to the airport.

My Indian experience was overwhelmingly positive, although too brief. I was undoubtably protected from many of the potential pitfalls due to the experience of my local contacts. I found it to be noisy, busy, spicy, traffic congestionising, mildly chaotic, unsanitised, more openly spiritual, containing social class extremes and diverse. In many ways I found it refreshing, but in the longer term, it could be frustrating and draining. I would like to go back...

As expected, Australia was an entirely different proposition. I had a week to catch up with the comings and goings of family and some close friends, as well as to prepare for the wedding. This time, contrary to the last time that I was MC at a wedding, I would make sure to prepare well before the wedding day!

On the Thursday, I was fortunate to be able to head up to Katoomba for a day with mate Tim Harris, and we were treated to a surprisingly tranquil walk down the Giant Staircase and through the valley to Leura, just before the heavens opened. He also pulled off organising a sensational HSC Study Camp 10-year reunion that evening, which saw seven original 1997 campers converge on a cafe in Parramatta. On Friday evening, I also managed to surprise my mate Snowy at his 25th birthday party.

The wedding day on Saturday was absolutely stunning. Sunny, cool, clear blue sky, with virtually no wind: a perfect winter's day. I left the surprisingly calm but definitely tardy bridal party to find the church almost full with 15 minutes to go. At 10:50am, 20 minutes late, it was standing room only, and the bridal party were ready. And what an impressive sight they were. The pools of water rapidly filling my lower eyelids soon overtopped my woefully inadequate optical floodgates. The rest of my family were the same. Must be a genetic thing...

The service itself was top quality and really appropriate. It was clear that Kat and Pete were special to many of the people in the congregation, and that their family and friends were willing to support them in the public promises they were making. I was impressed by the genuine words spoken by their school principal, with whom both Kat and Pete have an impressively close and mutually respectful relationship. Our minister Colin expressed clearly what they were promising, although Kat less so... she struggled to get her vows out due to her highly emotional state!

After the usual photos and hasty conversations over morning tea, we were whisked off to The Mirage restaurant at Newport, overlooking the tranquil waters of the Pittwater. We were welcomed by a string quartet from the Sydney Symphony Orchestra, and treated ourselves to champagne and wine on the outside balcony overlooking the water. The setting and the food were immaculate. During dessert, there were speeches from both dads, the best man, maid of honour and Pete and Kat. They were all very impressive and complementary. It was a little bit disturbing to hear from the best man Mikey that Pete had previously bet and lost my sister over a game of cards... twice!

My brothers Josh and Will were MCs at the reception. Josh was particularly laid back and funny, despite his lack of preparation. Must be a natural. I'm not sure if he gets it from his father...

So the happy couple spend 10 days in Fiji before moving into their flat in Randwick. It was an exceptional start to their married life. I only hope and pray that the rest of their marriage can continue to be a great blessing. I didn't get my 20-rupee blessing in India, but the wedding was a blessing far more profound than what money can buy. With good hearts, wise heads and God's guidance, I'm sure their bound to be a vending machine of unlimited blessings!

Shoulder Surgery Recovery

It's been far too long since I last posted an entry on my blog; partly due to the lack of photographable events to show off, and partly due to the fact that most of my spare time has been devoted to study (a correspondence course subject on the Old Testament).

The last five months from January to May 2007 have been dominated by a dislocated shoulder, which resulted in surgery and a slow recovery. I got tackled from behind while playing rugby in early February and my collar bone got pulled away from my AC joint. There's a couple of photos on http://picasaweb.google.com/michaelwrathall if you're curious. After two months in a sling and another 2 months of physio, I'm about 95% there: don't have the final range of movement and still a bit weak, but fine for most things.

I've been back playing cricket the last three weeks as captain of the second XI team at West of Scotland CC. My first game back was a dream start: I got my highest score of 122 (off just 96 balls) and we easily won the game. We won the next game and narrowly lost last Saturday, but it's the best start to our cricket season for a team that normally starts very slowly!

In the last few months, I've been fortunate enough to have a few visitors:

- Aussie mates Tim Harris and Steve Kopandy: I visited them along with mutual friend Dave Whitehead (and his growing family) in Berlin for a weekend, and then they popped in to Glasgow for an evening of fun and frivolity.

- A flying visit from fellow study camper Asheetha Chacko, who's been living in London.

- Justin and Susannah Ware: Aussie friends also living in London who popped in for a few days and treated me to some amazing home cooking!

- Harry and Sarah Weld-Forester: the not-so-newly weds popped up from Exeter and joined a group of others including Aussie school friend Amy Nancarrow to go for a walk (and a swim) at Glen Coe.

I also have a new flatmate - an Aussie from the Blue Mountains of Sydney. He's a friend of a friend from the cricket club and has been settling into Glaswegian life by working as much as possible! He works in hospitality, so our hours don't cross over terribly much, but we've been getting on pretty well.

I'll be heading over to India for a week from June 22 to visit Bangalore and Pune on the way back to Australia for my sister's wedding on July 7. I'm looking forward to seeing family and friends again, even if it is only for a week this time. With our family's second wedding within 6 months, this is becoming a bit of a habit!

Parties, Biking, Aussie Celebrations and a Wedding

This blog really should be split into at least two or three entries with the number of bloggable events that have occurred in the last three months. For your ease of reading, they'll be grouped under the four headings above. If you're only interested in one or two events, feel free to just skip to them. Alternatively, if you want the whole story, they've been broken into manageable chapters for your reading pleasure. So... enjoy! Unfortunately, I couldn't upload any more than one photo, so for photos, check out http://picasaweb.google.com/michaelwrathall.

1. Parties

The end of the year seems to be the time when sleeping patterns are thrown into disarray by the sheer number of social engagements that crowd a given November or December weekend. 2006 was no different, with its inevitable concoction of Christmas parties that every social club and his dog decide to throw together. Two particular parties stand out for me (probably because they're the only two I've got photos for)!

Peter's International Student Flat Parties have garnered an enviable reputation for their longevity, cultural diversity and personal space invasiveness. The latest fancy dress party in November had an 'h' theme, to incorporate Peter's mildly disturbing fascination with dressing up (or should it be down) as David Hasselhoff. Fellow flatmates Paul, Eilidh and Mira dressed up as convincing renditions of Hitler, the Queen of Hearts and a housewife, respectively. I went as Homer, of the Greek poet variety, and spent half the night rearranging my rapidly unravelling table cloth. When people began scaling the walls of the hall and fixing themselves near the ceiling, I knew it was almost time to get some sleep.

Some weeks later on the night before my birthday, Peter, Paul and I headed through to Edinburgh for a dinner and ceilidh, for which I'd been keenly anticipating. The night started slowly, and we left Glasgow almost 2 hours late. We arrived to finish off the scraps from dinner and eventually headed towards the ceilidh by 10:00pm. By the time we reached the entrance to the church, we soon realised that the £7 tickets we'd purchased were no more than a donation (to a good cause, I'm assured), because the band had already begun to pack up! We ended up seeing the night through back at the flat and celebrated my 27th with some wine and whisky in the wee hours of the morning.


My official party was a lunchtime affair on Sunday at my flat. No dressing up was required, although it would have been difficult to avoid embarrassment. We played party games... including pass the parcel, guess the number of lollies in the cheap plastic container, pin the cricket ball on the aussie cricketer, as well as the After Eight dinner mint challenge relay, where we raced to slide a chocolate mint from our foreheads to our mouths without using hands. There were plenty of laughs, melted chocolate faces and leftover food!

2. Biking
Having accumulated some additional holidays from work that needed to be claimed before the end of the year, my work colleague Mark and I decided to head down south and test our skills on some mountain bike trails. A few days before I was due to head back to Australia, we drove past Dumfries to the Mabie Phoenix trail: a 17km red-graded mix of natural and man-made trails in and around hilly pine forest. We couldn't have picked a better day - the sun was shining, the air was crisp and still, and we had the trails all to ourselves.

There were plenty of long climbs that certainly tested our lack of fitness, being desk-bound at work for hours on end. The views were beautiful and the fast single-tracks were well worth the climb. I came over the handle bars just once when my front wheel lost traction on a sweeping rocky bend, while Mark almost came unstuck after a steep decent into a fast flowing stream. We tested our skills on a couple of the black-graded options, but we failed to negotiate the slippery conditions on all bar one of the routes.

At the end of the day, we had a couple of hours to investigate the double-diamond black run called the Dark Side, which has a reputation for its technical difficulty. It didn't take us long to realise we were way out of our depths. It was hundreds of metres of North Shore trails (raised wooden platforms) that got as thin as 10cm and weaved up and around the countryside at almost every conceivable angle. We were content with walking alongside. I couldn't even manage short, simple sections of it for fear that I'd come off the edge. It climaxed with the gap jump: about 3m high and at least a metre gap before the sloped landing platform... another option to which I happily conceded defeat.

3. Aussie Celebrations
On December 21, after spending a few days chilling out with my Aussie friend from Paris Natalie, we headed to Edinburgh where I attempted to jump on a plane to London Heathrow. Unfortunately, London had been shrouded in fog, and only long-haul departures were running from the airport. My flight from London to Sydney was due to leave that night; the problem was that I couldn't get to London in time. In the end, I flew out the next day, having stayed the night in London, but I missed out on Steve's bucks party. At least Christmas wasn't spent in transit and my body was saved from paintball-induced discolouration.

Christmas church services and Christmas Day lunch at home were all very enjoyable, being able to share some highlights of the year with friends and relatives. Will and I headed up north that night to visit my godparents in Copacabana, the Flatt family further north up the Central Coast, and our grandma at her farm near Taree. We enjoyed watching the Aussie cricketers embarrass the Poms, read books, cleared weeds in the back paddock, and played the obligatory game or two of backyard cricket. The slower pace of life and the natural wildlife, ranging from wallabies to ducklings and rosellas, was a refreshing change to the rush of the city.

For New Years Eve, Will and a group of friends headed down to Bradleys Head on Sydney Harbour, with direct views to the Harbour Bridge and the fireworks display. We parked ourselves in a sheltered spot for the day and were the most well fed, musical and celebratory group in our little area.

New Years Day involved a trip to Luna Park, for some good old fashioned fun with Katrina's fiance and his friends and relatives. Unfortunately, the evening was soured by an accident on one of the rides that involved an ambulance being called in.

For a couple of days, I visited the Scripture Union Family Mission (SUFM) down south in Gerringong, where I'd been a team member for the previous 4 years. It was like I'd never left, and it didn't take long to get involved in the activities. The talk I gave at the church service was directly relevant to at least one person there; a lady there has since given church another chance.

4. Wedding
The week leading up to the wedding went much more quickly than expected. I really loved catching up with friends, eating at outdoor cafes and soaking up the Aussie sun. The holiday lifestyle during an Australian summer is pretty hard to beat.

As part of the bridal party on wedding day, I had the onerous job of making sure I looked presentable before the cameras and smile at the right times. In the end, it was slightly more complex: the girls had choreographed a dance routine for us at the reception, and us guys had arranged a Matrix-style entrance to the wedding ceremony. The groomsman entrance was quite a nice touch (Steve's idea), and the minutes of practice throwing our sunglasses without looking really paid off...

The service was beautiful, and the bridesmaids in their electric blue dresses and the bride in a simple white wedding gown were stunning. I must confess, I shed a few tears when my sister Katrina walked down the aisle, much to Steve's disgust, who had been instructed specifically not to let any tears fall from his welling eyelids! It was a joyful occasion, and we were reminded from the Bible passage in 1 John 4 that we mirror God's undeserved love because he first loved us; not only in a romantic way, but sacrificially.

The reception at Cronulla RSL overlooked the beach on a sunny but blustery summer's day. The speeches were overwhelmingly positive, and it shows how right their dating relationship has been and how their marriage relationship has started in the best of circumstances. Steve committed the most humorous and obvious blunder of the day. When describing how he met Tash, he was previously keen on a girl whom one of his mates was also interested in. Instead of saying how inappropriate it would be for him to ask her out, he expressed how inappropriate it would be to ask HIM out. I'm impressed at Steve's boldness that he would leave it to his wedding day to finally publicise his gay phase...!

With Steve and Tash honeymooning on the Gold Coast and Sunshine Coast, I flew out soon after for the slightly less exotic Glasgow winter. The memories and the suntan gained in those few weeks in Australia should hopefully last many moons.