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.
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 th
e 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!
e 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!
