Today Nathan, Sam and Colney fly from Aizawl to Cuttack. I have no means of contacting them, but Nath's posted a new FB blog, and in the afternoon I sent him a comment. Saturday wifi is tolerably working, so first off I emailed Daniel about Butch, and our scheduled arrival in UAE on Monday, and Kelly, who I've omitted from my earlier email attempts. Steve and I discuss what to look for in other potential Jesus Fellowship candidates for the sort of thing we've been doing.
The overnight rain hasn't let up, and John predicts we'll need umbrellas. Surefoot produces one from the depths of his bag - what a guy! We travel about an hour to the National Rural Villages Centre on the edge of the Bago River. It's like a country park with representative traditional homes and lifestyles from the 14 states that make up Myanmar. We drive round in a sort of charabanc, which keeps the showers at bay. Each home has the typical cooking, living, sleeping and garden layout (and a gift shop).
After three or four, John, who's the only one who's seen it before, is losing interest. "Let's go straight on to the Chin house," I coax (that's John's state). Suddenly, he's fired up again, and skips along with Mary (his wife) telling us in great detail how he remembers things being just like they're presented here. Pointing out the weaponry, John comments that 100 years ago the tribes were in constant war. Missionary activity started 120 years ago.
Many of the houses are built in mahogany, some with bamboo walls, some with grass roofs - an interesting diversity. But our hour's use of the vehicle is up. Next we want to go to Bogyoke market, an Aladdin's Cave of stalls specialising in silks, jewellery, ornaments, and everything esle that delights the eye. The prices are fair, and we get some pressies for home. Then at Dave's insistence, we go for lunch in a local eatery. Appearing in the diner doorway provokes a raucus mele of invitations to the different tables. It's a mini-mall, and each small kitchen/counter has a distinct proprietor. Chicken curry, fried rice and fried chicken, with the inevitable Burmese soup, is the best deal. With a soft drink each, the total bill is £23 for seven of us.
We head back for home, Insein, and call in at a tea room to sample the one things we've so far missed out. I'm smiling broadly with a big mug of chai. The rain intensifies, and back in the Hotel, we reimburse John. He's paid for everything, so we haven't got skanked with "white man's prices". It's been an relaxed and wholesome use of the day, one that most tourists would never have a chance to enjoy.
Dave, Rebecca and Nick, check out and leave for the airport by taxi. I go to do some packing. To fit in with a pressing request to preach tomorrow at the 8.00am Bible College service, we'll have to early, bags and all. Steve and I will share a 30 minute slot. Our flight to Abu Dhabi is around 8.00pm, so we'll have to play it by ear after the service.
We meet John, Mary and Butch for dinner, and John produces a schedule of the week's actual costs. We've been pretty near the mark, but I can't dissuade John from contributing towards the extra numbers for catering, and some subsistence for local delegates' travel. I settle up the Restaurant bill, and we find some small anomalies. But the girls behind the counter will have to make this up from their wages, so as there's less than £10 at stake, we pay anyway.
Butch and Steve are deep in conversation, and planning MILC 2014 in the Philippines and Hong Kong. I tell them that'll be a tough one to get past Huw! The bedroom looks like a bomb's gone off as we pack, and I give some though to what to include in this 15 minutes preach tomorrow morning. I mustn't forget to give John a copy of the conference teaching material. I feel better for the nine hours' sleep last night. It'll be another overnight flight tomorrow. Sadly, we'll be going west, but the time zones work in favour of a bit more chance of rest. I wonder how Nathan and Sam are doing.
The overnight rain hasn't let up, and John predicts we'll need umbrellas. Surefoot produces one from the depths of his bag - what a guy! We travel about an hour to the National Rural Villages Centre on the edge of the Bago River. It's like a country park with representative traditional homes and lifestyles from the 14 states that make up Myanmar. We drive round in a sort of charabanc, which keeps the showers at bay. Each home has the typical cooking, living, sleeping and garden layout (and a gift shop).
After three or four, John, who's the only one who's seen it before, is losing interest. "Let's go straight on to the Chin house," I coax (that's John's state). Suddenly, he's fired up again, and skips along with Mary (his wife) telling us in great detail how he remembers things being just like they're presented here. Pointing out the weaponry, John comments that 100 years ago the tribes were in constant war. Missionary activity started 120 years ago.
Many of the houses are built in mahogany, some with bamboo walls, some with grass roofs - an interesting diversity. But our hour's use of the vehicle is up. Next we want to go to Bogyoke market, an Aladdin's Cave of stalls specialising in silks, jewellery, ornaments, and everything esle that delights the eye. The prices are fair, and we get some pressies for home. Then at Dave's insistence, we go for lunch in a local eatery. Appearing in the diner doorway provokes a raucus mele of invitations to the different tables. It's a mini-mall, and each small kitchen/counter has a distinct proprietor. Chicken curry, fried rice and fried chicken, with the inevitable Burmese soup, is the best deal. With a soft drink each, the total bill is £23 for seven of us.We head back for home, Insein, and call in at a tea room to sample the one things we've so far missed out. I'm smiling broadly with a big mug of chai. The rain intensifies, and back in the Hotel, we reimburse John. He's paid for everything, so we haven't got skanked with "white man's prices". It's been an relaxed and wholesome use of the day, one that most tourists would never have a chance to enjoy.
Dave, Rebecca and Nick, check out and leave for the airport by taxi. I go to do some packing. To fit in with a pressing request to preach tomorrow at the 8.00am Bible College service, we'll have to early, bags and all. Steve and I will share a 30 minute slot. Our flight to Abu Dhabi is around 8.00pm, so we'll have to play it by ear after the service.
We meet John, Mary and Butch for dinner, and John produces a schedule of the week's actual costs. We've been pretty near the mark, but I can't dissuade John from contributing towards the extra numbers for catering, and some subsistence for local delegates' travel. I settle up the Restaurant bill, and we find some small anomalies. But the girls behind the counter will have to make this up from their wages, so as there's less than £10 at stake, we pay anyway.
Butch and Steve are deep in conversation, and planning MILC 2014 in the Philippines and Hong Kong. I tell them that'll be a tough one to get past Huw! The bedroom looks like a bomb's gone off as we pack, and I give some though to what to include in this 15 minutes preach tomorrow morning. I mustn't forget to give John a copy of the conference teaching material. I feel better for the nine hours' sleep last night. It'll be another overnight flight tomorrow. Sadly, we'll be going west, but the time zones work in favour of a bit more chance of rest. I wonder how Nathan and Sam are doing.
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