Multiply India Visit Day Eleven, 13 Sept

I must explain about our beds.  They are completely solid 2-inch wood (probably teak), with ornate headboards.  Steve tried to move his out of the way of a wall plug, and failed to make any impression.  I manage to sleep okay diagonally.  On our arrival, Steve tells me, behind my back the hotel staff did a hand-waving-way-over-their-head gesture to comment about my height.   And then there's the leak in the roof, which being on the top floor, is just above us.

When we have heavy rain - which seems quite often - the ceiling in the bathroom offers a shower facility directly over the WC pedastal.  Unfortunate, when Steve's one-on/one-ready-to-wear/and-one-in-the-wash policy means he has to have clothes dried in 24 hours, and hangs them on the shower rail.  (This also explains why his loss of drying clothes from the balcony was serious!).

Then there's the aircon: it's been on incessantly.  I reset it to 24C out of concern for global warming in sub-Saharan Africa.  But the room temperature's never got down that far.  Meanwhile it blasts directly onto my bed.  So at night I'm in a three-way fix between the chilled airstream, the room ambient, and the furnace beneath the blanket.  Last night I was almost certain I was getting a fever.

It was raining when we all piled into the taxis to head for the Blind School again.  On the way there were impressive floods.  There's something comical about a Buddhist monk with shaved head, tucked-up robes and a pink unbrella (a favourite colour) wading through knee-deep brown water.  I should mention that a good percentage of the men wear the traditional longgyi.  I guess they're invitingly cool in this climate.

Steve led the morning session on Brotherhood, and Butch was supporting the worship.  My computer told me the School has wifi, so I got permission to use it.  I spent the lunch time happily up-loading blogs - a priority I'd prayed about.  I took the afternoon session on apostolic fathering.  I  felt strongly that some of the many young people (from the Baptist bible college) would plant new churches.  Mar Yen, the student rep, pressed us to say we'd come to their Sunday morning service.  Then it was photo-calls all round, and we headed home. 

John persuaded us to have dinner down town, and added that he's a personal friend of one of the top Chinese restaurant owners.  The journey in took an hour - a reflection of the size of the city and growing traffic congestion.  On the way, John explained to Steve and me that he's the secretary of the country's most prestigious tennis club.  Knowing some 'top brass' members has kept the door open for the gospel where petty officials could have opposed meetings and arrested new believers.

He also explained that business flourished during the Military Regime, though not outside the borders of the country.  A black-market car (via China) could have cost $120,000+; whereas now, with trade growing, the legal price is $14,000.  By contrast, the city centre hotel room he used to book for Colney less that five years ago has gone from $40 to $240 per night.

My Garden restaurant is colourful and buzzing, and lies on the edge of the People's Park near the landmark Shwedagon Pagoda.  John had reserved the last table available, and asked the owner to line up the best choice of meals.  We had mainly fishy things, and I found blueberry milkshake on the menu.  "Have you had octopus and squid before?"  I asided to Steve.  The only implements available were chopsticks, so I had to recover my skill or starve.  On the return ride, we stopped off for a quick photo of the Pagoda, then agreed to spend Saturday morning together, visiting the National Rural State Villages Centre.  I was grateful for a relaxed evening.