Chapter 6. Around the World    
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Ballet. courtesy of the KGB

Communism, Chinese Style

The Lands of the Raj

Poverty and Overpopulation

Off To Japan  Hai!

Singapore --- Benevolent  Dictatorship

Nepal --- Back in Time

Click to Return to Memories

Ballet, -- Courtesy of the KGB  

As a consultant and lecturer, I began to receive more and more requests to provide assistance to many of the countries that were then attempting to develop their electronics industries. Eventually I spent one or two months every year working overseas. I was usually able to take my wife with me and she provided the support and help which was necessary in order to get the work done efficiently. In the first instance described here however I was on my own.

This was one of my most memorable trips and occurred while I was still working for my last company in Montreal. I was asked to go to the Soviet Union in the days when Brezhnev was the Premier and lecture on the latest technology in the electronics manufacturing field. When the visit was being planned, and the various permits being obtained, I was asked to pay a visit to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police offices in Montreal. Here I was told the rules I should live by during my visit to the Soviet Union. For example, never accept any invitation to visit a Soviet home, reject any approaches by Soviet women, do not break their laws in any way, and I left with the following comment ringing in my ears, "Keep in touch with us so that we can help you if anything happens, because if the KGB want to get you they will". 

A week or so later my secretary called me and said that a gentleman from the Soviet Embassy was waiting to see me. He was extremely smart, spoke excellent English, and we talked at some length. I soon realized that he was very cleverly asking me questions about my past, where I had been, what I had done and so on. I had nothing to hide and we discussed my technical experience and the work I would be doing in Moscow. He said that as I would be giving technical lectures to soviet engineers I would be a guest of the Soviet Union and I would be provided with a car, a chauffeur, and an interpreter. He also asked me if there was anything I would particularly like to see or do in my spare time in Moscow. My interpreter would be instructed, he told me, to see that I was entertained each evening. I replied that I had always wanted to see the Bolshoi Ballet. He thought for a moment, "The Bolshoi theatre will be closed during your visit" he said, "But the ballet will be performing somewhere in Moscow, just tell your interpreter that he is to make the arrangements for you to see a performance" We chatted, exchanged business cards and he left. His card stated that he was Dr Tretchiakoff, Commercial Attaché of the Soviet Embassy.

A day or so later a very smart young man came to see me and introduced himself as a officer of Canadian Security. He asked me "What did Tretchiakoff want to talk about"? I told him of my impending visit and the conversation, and he then explained that my visitor was the senior KGB officer in Canada. Apparently this young man's prime task was to investigate the people that Tretchiakoff met and find out the reason for his visit.

A few weeks later I flew into the main Moscow airport. After standing for some time in a long line of new arrivals, I was eventually routed into a totally bare room only a few feet square. The door shut behind me and I realized I was locked in. In one wall was a small observation window through which I could see a pair of eyes watching me. Below it was a slot into which I slid my passport and visa. As I waited I saw that a ruler was painted on the wall behind me so that the officer could check my height. I could see nothing else, but eventually my passport reappeared in the slot, the other door lock clicked open and I found myself in the customs hall.

I had to wait in another long line at the customs counter and the businessman in front of me was having a tough time. Everything had been removed from his luggage and an agent was examining every page in his diary. I had a case containing slides, movies and other training systems and if these were all inspected I could see my examination taking hours. Then a very grim looking woman in uniform held out her hand and snapped "Passport". She saw my Soviet visa and immediately smiled graciously said "Welcome to the Soviet Union Mr. Woodgate", shook my hand warmly and waved me through without even glancing at my suitcases. She pointed to a young man standing nearby. "Here is your interpreter" she said "And your car is waiting outside". I was soon bowling down the highway into the city.

The next day my interpreter asked me what I would like to do in the evenings, as he told me he had already planned visits to the folk dance festival, the circus and so on. I told him I wanted to see the Bolshoi Ballet. "Impossible" he replied, "It is performing in the Kremlin". I told him that I thought he should try a little harder as Dr Tretchiakoff had assured me it could be arranged. The name seemed to do the trick and a few hours later he excitedly told me that it was all organized. 

A few evenings later we drove past the guards at the arched entrance way into the Kremlin itself. The performance was held in a huge magnificent hall, and everything was superb. We sat about ten rows from the stage in large armchairs complete with the audio controls in the arm rest that provided interpretations of speeches during the high level meetings that were normally held in the building. Uri, my interpreter, told me to look at the people sitting several rows behind us. Among the many people in uniforms and obvious high ranking officials there were several couples in full evening dress. "That is your ambassador and his party" Uri explained and added, "We have better seats than them" I could not help responding. "Well Uri it pays to have pull with the KGB". "Shh" he said, "We don't talk about those things". I really do not know who arranged it but it makes a nice story and I always say that I saw the Bolshoi Ballet courtesy of the KGB. Incidentally the orchestra was superb and the performance memorable.    

Spires in the Kremlin
   
A church being refurbished

An old monastery, now a museum

I had arrived in Moscow a few days before my program was due to start and therefore I had to wait until that date before I could stay at the official hotel for Soviet guests. Initially therefore I stayed in a hotel that was almost an exact copy of a Holiday Inn and had been built only for business people visiting the Soviet Union.  When I checked in I met my first sample of Soviet bureaucracy. My passport and visa were taken away and I was told they would not be returned until I checked out. I was given a paper pass and then told how to get  to my room. I took the elevator up to my floor, and there, just outside the elevator doors was a desk complete with a large lady who took my pass and give me my room key. It was explained to me that I had to return the key and get the pass whenever I left my room, as I could not get into the dining room without the pass, and could be asked for it when I left or returned to the hotel. This was a very effective method of knowing exactly when each guest came or left his/her room. The room was clean and comfortable, and there was a good supply of hot water.

The security people in Canada had assured me that all hotel rooms used by foreigners were bugged for audio and possible video recording. I could not resist calling out a greeting to my unseen listeners every time I came in and told them they could relax when I went out. Two days later I officially became a guest of the Soviet Union and was moved into the heart of Moscow to an old but grand hotel that was built in the Stalin era solely for guests of the Soviet Union. It was awful. Old, dilapidated, dark, with cold taps that ran with orange-stained water and no hot water at all. Armed guards at the main door and the usual guardian outside the entrance to the elevator on every floor. The most enjoyable parts of my stay here, were the impromptu parties that seemed to develop by themselves in the evenings with the visitors from the various Soviet controlled countries, especially those in central Europe. They always invited me to join them in their singing and dancing and in spite of the language difficulties we always managed to make each other understand. The hotel restaurant had magnificent leather covered menus but almost everything was unavailable and pointing to an item invariably brought "niet" from the waiter. In the end I gave up and accepted what was obviously the menu for the day. I was surprised to see rows of waiters sitting along the wall near the entrance to the kitchens, more waiters than guests. However because of the way the service was organized it was almost impossible to get served quickly, and calling or beckoning to a waiter invariably brought the gesture that meant "not my table".

A quiet square in the center of Moscow

An evening at the famous Moscow circus

During my stay I always wore in my lapel a badge showing the American flag  and I was continuously asked "American"? The response to my "Yes, I'm an American" was almost always extremely friendly. The worst comment was from an old lady in the subway who said, "American people very good, Regan no good". Many people spoke excellent English and one middle-aged man was very sincere when he said that he felt extremely sorry for the American people. "How can you live never knowing whether you will have a job next week" he said. "I may not have all the things that you have, but I will always have a job, a place to live, food to eat and a doctor when I am sick". 

After a few days together my interpreter let it be known that he desperately wanted to get to the West, although as he said "It is impossible". As an interpreter he had access to Western radio, books, papers and magazines, and knew much that was hidden from the average Soviet citizen, yet even he found it difficult to truly understand the West. One day he took me to one of the very few "hard currency" stores,  that were scattered around Moscow, each with an armed guard at the door. I intended to buy him and his wife, who was an architect, little gifts as they had gone to a great deal of trouble to show me the city. These stores were set up solely for visitors and party officials, in fact anyone who could pay with almost any currency except rubles. I was surprised to hear that senior party members were paid in hard currency and therefore could freely use these stores. The ordinary people who were paid in rubles had to use the ordinary shops that were always half empty and only sold the shoddy soviet made goods. "I'm not allowed in here" Uri told me, but I pushed him past the armed guard before we could be stopped. Inside, the store was laid out very much like our supermarkets with almost anything available if you had the hard currency to pay for it, and many imported goods from Europe or the USA. We stood by the door and Uri looked around with amazement. "You don't have any stores like this in America?" he commented. I told him that all our stores were like this. "Yes but not for the ordinary people?" he asked. I explained that in the USA anyone could shop at any store he wished but I am not sure he believed me. In the end I bought him a shirt, and his wife a little bottle of perfume. Our driver got a bottle of vodka.

My interpreter's wife a charming lady

My interpreter, not keen to be photographed

My driver, a likeable rebel

 Later that evening we met his wife who I had invited to join us on a visit to the famous Moscow circus. Uri excitedly told her I had bought her a present and I gave her the little package. "Can I open it now"? she asked as we stood on the steps at the entrance to the circus. When she saw the perfume she said "Never in all my life have I ever had anything like this" and kissed me on the cheek. I then realized that tears were pouring down her face, and all through the circus performance she kept pulling the little bottle out of her purse and looking at it. This was the moment when I finally said to myself "What a rotten, stinking, inefficient government: these people deserve better". This incident broke the ice and I began to learn a lot about the everyday lives of the people. As we drove back to my hotel they showed me their apartment building. They apologized that they dare not ask me to see their home, as having a foreigner in the building would invite a visit from the police. It was modern, tall and new and I made the comment, "It looks very nice". "It's not" said Uri's wife shaking her head; "There are four apartments on each floor with only one shared bathroom and kitchen".

Street scene Moscow. Note lack of traffic.

An old house in Moscow, with carved wood fascia.

On another evening we took a walk through the area of the city where the party officials had their residences in a park like setting. I was shown the block of apartments where Brezhnev lived and his floor was pointed out to me. It was easy to find, as the rows of windows on the floor above had no curtains or blinds. Being an architect working in the Moscow offices, Uri's wife had an insider's knowledge. Apparently when he was appointed Premier, Brezhnev complained that the ceilings of the official residence were too low, so the people living in the floor above were moved out and the floors ripped up, so that the ceilings could be raised. Power has its advantages --------- especially in a dictatorship.

Our driver also turned out to be a rebel. We stopped at the curb one-day while Uri went on some official errand and a policeman came over and presented the driver with a ticket for illegal parking. The driver just tore it up and threw the pieces in the policeman's face, while I huddled in the back and tried to be invisible. One evening, a few days later, when Uri asked what I wanted to do, I said I would like to see "The real Moscow". Uri and the driver had a short conversation and Uri said, "He will show you the real Moscow, pointing to the driver. We set off and  stopped, after about a mile or so, in a narrow badly lit street with cracked and broken pavement, beside a tall stone wall. Uri became very agitated. "We shouldn't be here" he said "Don't ever tell anyone you've been here". The wall was all that was left of an old monastery and enclosed several acres. We walked inside past dilapidated little huts with people cooking over small fires out in the open. This was far from the rows of concrete apartment buildings that surrounded the city. The driver said something and Uri interpreted, "He says now you have seen the real Moscow".

On another day Uri took me to a special cemetery located in the heart of the city. This was for official use only, and here Stalin was buried. It was guarded by two soldiers with machine guns standing at the tall iron gates that were the only way in, the cemetery being surrounded by very tall thick stone walls. Uri explained that no one was permitted to enter without official permission, but I told him to try. "Niet" was the answer from the guards. "Explain I am a guest of the Soviet Union" I told Uri. After a long argument the same answer, "Niet". We continued to talk to the guards and finally I found they were interested in pens, and with the gift of two ball point pens we were allowed to slip between the gates, but "No pictures", pointing to my camera.

Stalin's tomb was interesting, the rather simple headstone being split down the middle, one half of white marble the other of black. Uri explained that officially Stalin was not all bad but neither was he all good, and the stone explained this philosophy. What I found even more interesting were some of the other memorials, one for instance to a plane crash that had killed over a hundred people, and others to similar disasters that we had never heard of. 

One morning another interpreter arrived with the car at the hotel to pick me up. This was a very well built and friendly young lady who said that Uri could not make it that day, and then plugged the party line in everything she said. I commented on the fact that the center lane on the highway could only be used by official cars, and how did the police know which were official cars? She explained the color code; official cars were black, other government cars, such as the one we were using were gray. Private cars, if you could get one, were any other color. I asked her, "If I was a Muscovite could I have a black car"? "No" she replied "Only officials and high ranking party members could have black cars". "Suppose I bought a red car and painted it black" I said. "Oh you can't do that" she replied, "You can't buy black paint". She could not understand why I laughed at this and she found it quite impossible to accept the fact that in the USA anyone could buy a car of any color and drive it anywhere. Uri was back the next day and came with me for the rest of my stay. I could not find out why the change had been made, except that she had been overly friendly.

One evening I invited three of the officials I had been working with and their wives, to the hotel for dinner. A problem arose when the guards at the door of the hotel would not permit them to enter, saying that this hotel was for guests of the Soviet Union only. Getting them in through a side door where there was no guard quickly solved this problem. The wives were especially anxious to learn all they could about the USA and asked many questions. "Do you have a car"? I was asked. When I told them I had two, a look of disbelief came over the faces. One wife asked "But where can you go with two cars"? I explained that one took me to work each day, one was used for shopping and to take my daughter to school. I mentioned we had just been on holiday and drove from Canada to the southern USA. This was received with total disbelief. That we could drive freely from one country to another, and drive thousands of miles, without any permit or official permission was completely beyond their comprehension. 

I had been told I could go up to 25 miles from the center of Moscow without a travel permit, and one free afternoon Uri and I set out to see the countryside around the city. We soon reached the wooded areas, with the dacha's or country weekend cottages of those in power. These were in an idyllic setting surrounded by beautiful woodland with gravel roads. We also came to a magnificent mansion which Uri explained was a military hospital. I was surprised after so much secrecy regarding so many common things, that we could walk freely around the grounds. Groups of soldiers were cutting the grass with sickles and collecting the cuttings by hand. This explained why everywhere in Moscow, in the parks, around monuments and so on, the grass was always several inches long and far from the smooth level cut we are used to in the US. I realized that I had not seen a single lawn mower during my stay in the Soviet Union, and I suspect they were not considered necessary. 

Moscow University from across the river.

One of the many palaces, now a military hospital.

During our stroll we also came to a magnificent red brick house sitting in beautiful gardens deep in the forest. Uri explained that it was a restaurant, and I suggested we should invite some of the people we were working with to come here for dinner. Uri shook his head, "We can't do that, look over there" Just visible behind the house was a car park which was full of shining black cars, their chauffeurs standing around waiting for their passengers. Like some shot from a movie they were all dressed alike, in baggy black suits with white open necked shirts and close-cropped heads. "You can see this place is only for high ranking people only," Uri pointed out. I explained that as an American I was as good as anybody else, and I intended to go and book a table. Uri would not come into the place but as I walked through the door a well-dressed man in a black suit and bow tie came up to me and in perfect English asked if he could be of assistance. I explained that I would like to bring three or four friends to the restaurant the next evening. It was all arranged within a few minutes the only question was "How do you intend to pay, Cash, Credit Card or Check"?. 

That evening the meal was superb, and standing in the center of the table was a huge glass bowl of strawberries, which, as one of the guests pointed out, cost more than the average workers weekly wage. The menu was lavish and unlike the restaurant at the hotel everything was available. Although my company would ultimately pay the bill I began to be a little concerned at the cost, but the exchange rate was such that in US dollars it was much less than a meal at a very ordinary restaurant in the USA. The place was crowded with most of the people in evening dress. It clearly showed that this was far from the egalitarian society that communism proclaimed. Life for the few at the top was very good indeed.

An atmosphere of secrecy dominated everything. Not directly but in many ways that permeated the entire society. During my lectures I would ask if anyone had any questions and invariably someone would have a problem they wished discussed. I would then ask what was the product, or what type of PWB were they using or something similar to help with the solution, but the response from the official interpreter was always the same, "He says he does not understand". 

At one location shortly before I was about to take the stage, my interpreter, a young lady, came to me and asked for a printed copy of my talk. I explained that I did not read my lecture, it was impromptu and varied according to the audience and their questions. She immediately became very agitated and after a lot of questions finally said I was not allowed to speak unless everything I was going to say was written down. By now I was getting angry and said that was fine with me; I would just go back to the hotel. She calmed down a little and said she would have to contact her boss. He arrived with a small entourage of gentlemen in black and I carefully explained the situation. There was a lot of discussion and finally I was asked to go ahead. I took the young lady aside and agreed a set of signals, as she could see me from her glass box up above the audience and I had an earpiece and microphone that allowed me to talk privately to her. I found later that there was some such rule regarding speakers from foreign countries but in this case it was not enforced.

The senior officials I worked with were very well informed about the West. Some even complained about  the way that the lack of any competition in their industry guaranteed that it would always be inefficient. One even suggested that some aspects of capitalism would be advantageous. These were the fortunate segment of the Soviet society. Provided they followed the Party line, they and their family were guaranteed a very comfortable life, lacking none of the amenities or luxuries of the West. For the average soviet citizen however, life was hard and dull and any opportunities to improve their lives were few and far between. Accommodation was poor; people were crowded into tiny apartments with few luxuries. Wages did not allow for anything but the necessities of life. But at least there was no worry as to where the next meal was coming from or what the future would hold for them and I was surprised that many claimed to prefer this to the competitive western way of life. Bureaucracy was strict and covered everything down to the smallest aspects of society. 

I was proudly told that unemployment was unknown in the Soviet Union, in fact it was against the law to be unemployed. This explained the many young soldiers who wandered in groups everywhere in and around the city, and the huge number of totally useless jobs. It explained the many women I saw cleaning the streets with brushes, and the numbers of waiters in the hotels who frequently outnumbered the guests. The few times I went into a store the clerk behind the counter helped me make my selection and wrote out the bill. But then I had to take my bill over to the cashier who took the money and gave me a receipt. I then had to take my receipt over to yet another counter where I handed it over to yet another clerk who identified my selection, and finally it was packaged and given to me. I noticed that in the superb subway system a woman sat in a glass box at the bottom of every escalator. I asked Uri why this was. "To shut off the escalator if anyone falls down on the stairway" was his answer. "Has this every happened"? I asked. "No" he replied, "Not that I have every heard of".

Security was strict but in many ways totally incomprehensible. I personally did not feel too restricted while in the Soviet Union, but there was always the concern that "We don't discuss that" or "We can't go there". I wanted to see one very old church that was still operating but was quickly told that "It is better we do not go there", with no other explanation. I carried my camera and was reminded several times that I was not to photograph this or that. Nothing related to security, but quite innocuous things such as an old building or simple street scenes. One good aspect of all of this was the safety in the streets. Crime was practically unknown and in the evening I would slip out of the side door of the hotel to avoid the guards and wander the streets without the slightest concern.

During the visit to one presentation I was shown a Soviet designed and built PWB drill, and noticed a tiny PWB that had been drilled there during a previous demonstration. I picked it up and glanced at the circuitry, then laid it down while I looked at some other feature of the drill. When I mentioned it a few minutes later during our discussion and went to point out a particular feature it had disappeared. Not only had it been removed but everyone there denied that it had even existed. There seemed no reason for this at all, but I guess I had accidentally picked up something that was not for the foreigner to see. These things and the fact that many individuals spoke excellent English but would only talk about general subjects made me realize that the security people were widely spread throughout the population and I could never feel entirely free of surveillance.

Moscow itself was dull, dull, and dull. Out of the main thoroughfares the sidewalks were broken, the shops were empty, there were no advertisements, no bright lights. Indeed once night fell the streets were almost empty. I was told of a superb restaurant in the heart of the city and given the address. A colleague and I decided to try and find it but the address turned out to be a rather scruffy old apartment house with not the slightest sign of a restaurant. We wandered into the very dilapidated entrance hall and then heard the very distant and intermittent sounds of music.,  We walked down the scruffy stairs in semi darkness and turned a corner into lights and people. The restaurant was not allowed to post advertisements or any signs in the street or even in the building. The streets of course were totally free of any advertising except that of the government. We were shown to a table and enjoyed the best evening of my entire time in the Soviet Union. The food was excellent, people laughed and danced to a small band.

I cannot say that I enjoyed my trip to the Soviet Union. After a few days of experiencing the bureaucracy and the very obvious tight security that intruded into every part of daily life, I was very happy to get to the airport early for my homeward flight and sighed with relief when we finally took off. But I am glad to have had the experience and to understand a little of what communism means although as I mentioned earlier this was really neither a communist nor a socialist state, it was a dictatorship pure and simple. The life of the people depended totally on the few leaders who controlled the country. It was a dictatorship that held its people in such a tight grip, that I was completely surprised when the system eventually failed. There were some plusses, I did not see a single "street person" indeed I was told that it was illegal to live in that way, and neither was I ever afraid of walking the streets, day or night or night, no matter where or what the hour.

Communism, Chinese Style.

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I had not been back from Moscow very long when I was asked to lecture in China at an electronics exhibition in Beijing. After the very strict security I was subjected to in the Soviet Union I was not looking forward to the trip. However this experience turned out to be very different from what I expected, and a long way from the tight security I found in the Soviet Union. 

I flew out via Japan and from there, together with a Chinese speaking colleague from our Far East office, took the Chinese national airline to Beijing. The plane on the outward flight was a Russian copy of an early British passenger jet plane, the Vickers VC10, with four jet engines in the tail. The seats were uncomfortable, the trays made of very flimsy metal, bent and warped and the front few rows of seats were filled with packages tied down with thick ropes. It reminded me of some of the old wartime movies. Our hostess however made up for the lack of amenities; she was charming and did everything possible to make our trip enjoyable. Then came dinner! Down the aisle she wheeled a cart on which was a pile of bowls and four large aluminum saucepans. A bowl was placed before each of us and into it she heaped rice and other foods from the saucepans, this was our dinner. It was reasonably tasty but hardly up to top airline service. We landed safely in Beijing after a rather uncomfortable flight, and we were dreading the return trip to Japan at the end of our visit. However when that time arrived and we got to Beijing airport, there stood a brand new 747 that had just been delivered and was the first of a new fleet of passenger aircraft. The service on the return trip was all that could be asked of any airline

An early morning street scene in Beijing.

The bicycle was the preferred means of transport.

After the bureaucracy in Moscow I was dreading the customs and immigration procedures, but I was not stopped at all, and walked through straight into the main concourse. In fact I had trouble in finding someone to stamp my passport. Then I saw a table with two uniformed gentlemen who were extremely polite, spoke excellent English and guided us to the bus for downtown.

The building boom was beginning and on our drive into the city we noted the many modern buildings that were under construction. Our hotel was a Chinese "Holiday Inn" only a short walk from Tiennaman Square. In construction and comfort it could have been in any American city, and the staff tried very hard to provide an excellent service. There were three restaurants, one Chinese, one Japanese, which was the best Japanese restaurant I have ever visited, and one Western. The Western had a typical American menu, and generally served very good food, but occasionally showed a lack of knowledge of western food. Coming in late one evening I found many of the dishes were not obtainable at that time of night so I ordered a club sandwich. When it arrived I found it to be two fried eggs between three pieces of toast.

I was very surprised to see the large number of private shops and small businesses and the bustling crowds on the streets. Not far from the hotel there were groups of stalls with young entrepreneurs selling many different goods. This was a very much brighter atmosphere than I had found in Moscow, and almost anything could be bought in the many stores. At that time the exchange rate was such that the US dollar could buy anything a very low cost, especially in the stores arranged for the visitors. Unlike the Soviet Union there was no discrimination and they were open to anyone. There was also much less secrecy, people were outgoing and freely offered information. I was also very surprised at the high level of technology that was evident from my discussions with their engineering people. This was a very different form of communism than that in the Soviet Union.

There was no need for a car as the city had an excellent fleet of taxis. The Govt. had purchased several hundred new Japanese cars and these were readily available by going to a small office in the hotel courtyard. They were also very cheap. I wanted to take the tourist bus to see the Great Wall but my work detained me and I missed the bus. I was advised to get a taxi and had one for almost the entire day for about thirty dollars. I also took a taxi every day to and from the various places where I was speaking. One morning the taxi driver did not have any change and I was in too much of a hurry to wait for him to get some. I told him to consider the change as a tip, it was quite a small sum but he insisted on taking my name. When I went to get my key at the hotel that evening, the desk clerk was extremely agitated and called me aside saying that she had an important message for me. She gave me an envelope and inside I found the change from my taxi ride that the driver had brought back to the hotel.

The Great Wall is a major tourist attraction.

 It is also extremely popular with the Chinese people .

The government provided me with an interpreter, a tiny elderly lady, who frequently pulled out a copy of Mao's "little red book" and quoted from it from time to time. She was a very pleasant little woman with a keen sense of humor. One evening I asked my colleague, who spoke excellent mandarin to teach me to say "Good morning" in Chinese and practiced it diligently to surprise her the next day. When I met her I trotted out my Chinese phrase; she looked puzzled and I repeated it until finally she asked, "What are you saying". When I told her she laughed and laughed and shook her head. I never found out what it was I said to her, but after that I stuck to English. Most of the officials I met with spoke excellent English and most of the older children wanted to practice their English on any foreigner they met. The government was promoting this and on the TV every night there were English lessons developed by the BBC.

I was also invited to an official reception given by the government for all those participating in the electronics conference, and one evening walked up the wide staircase and entered a large meeting hall on Tienneman Square. We were duly offered drinks and stood around chatting until one of the ministers came around with  his retinue of officials and greeted each one of us personally and welcomed us officially to the conference on behalf of the government of China. I also met with various officials from time to time and was quite amazed by he openness of our discussions and the freedom to visit any of their manufacturing plants. So very different from the Soviet Union.

While my visit to the Great Wall was fascinating, I never got tired of walking through the "Forbidden City" which was only a few minutes walk from my hotel. With the many palaces and gardens and courtyards, it would have taken months to explore them all, but at least I managed a walk through many of them. On one occasion I saw a very beautiful statue of an elephant in one of halls of one of the palaces. It stood three or four feet high and had been cast in what I at first thought was polished brass. However when I asked I was told it was solid gold! It must have been worth millions, but stood where I could touch it with no security protection whatever. Guess the weight alone made it thief proof.

When I made my trip to see the Great Wall we drove for miles through the countryside, which was spectacular as we got near the mountains and the Wall. On the return trip we took a different route so that I could see the tombs of the past rulers of China and drove through a military camp where I saw some of their mobile radar systems standing in the fields. This was so different from the Soviet Union where such things were kept strictly out of sight and never even discussed. I also watched an enormous steam locomotive chugging away pulling a long goods train up into the mountains. A monstrous machine, probably one of the few remaining examples of a long past era.

The Great Wall is popular for a day out of the city

Only a few miles has been refurbished

The Great Wall was magnificent, although after walking for some distance I came to the place where the rebuilding had stopped and realized that much of the remaining wall, although looking fine from a distance, was in fact falling down and very badly in need of repair. I also saw other crumbling walls on the drive to and from the site and discovered that building massive walls to define the limits and protect any particular property was a common practice in the old days. It was certainly something that every visitor should take time to see, the engineering, the technology and the sheer size of the effort that was required to erect the wall was astounding. For me however even more impressive were the tombs of the emperors

The tombs of the rulers of China equal the pyramids.

The mounds contain unexcavated tombs.


Although only one or two sites have been excavated, they are at least equal to the tombs of the Pharos in size and beauty. The long avenue to the burial sites with the rows of statues on both sides was impressive. The many mounds visible in the surrounding countryside only hinted at the wealth and history that still remains to be discovered. The buildings and terraces that were built above ground formed a wonderful place to walk. The underground tombs showed an amazing engineering capability coupled with artistry and skill rarely found in places of that age. I found China an exciting mixture of the old and new.

The people were quite open in their discussions of the failures of the past regimes, and most of them commented that while many stupid and bad things had been done, they were convinced that now the country was heading in the right direction. For example I asked why there was so much dust in the streets. With a laugh I was told that during the revolution the leaders decided that decorative lawns and grass borders to the roads was a sign of decadent western culture. All the grass and roadside trees had therefore been torn up. Parties were now being organized to re-seed the areas, indeed while I was there the American Ambassador hosted such a party that planted trees alongside some of the roads.

Towards the end of my visit it was suggested that as a polite gesture I should invite my senior Chinese colleagues to dinner one evening. I agreed but pointed out I knew nothing of the restaurants in the city, and would need some guidance, and I was told that could be arranged. The next day it was suggested that we go to a restaurant within the Forbidden City, operated by the descendents of the chef to the old empress, that was now open to the public. A private room had been reserved there for us for the following evening.

The "Forbidden City" is full of wonderful things.

Palaces, statues, courtyards,  all in first class order.

It was dark as we made our way to a small gateway through the enormous wall surrounding the Forbidden City, and followed a footpath for a short distance to the restaurant. We walked through the kitchens where huge cauldrons had been let into the floor, heated by fires below, and the contents were being stirred with long wooden paddles. We were led into a bare room containing only a large round table with a turntable in the center surrounded by very ordinary kitchen chairs. The only illumination came from a bare bulb hanging over the table. Our guests arrived and our meal began. I believe in total there were about 18 courses beginning with some form of candy. It was, I was told, an exact copy of one of the banquets given in the palace during the reign of the late empress. There was duck in every possible form, from ducks feet to the normal roast duck. Someone commented that everything from the duck was used except the "quack". Fish included a magnificent oval platter with a large fish on it molded from flaked fish of many different kinds and colors, and of course the more traditional Chinese dishes. Every new dish was first passed around and a portion placed on each person's plate, then it was placed on the turntable so as to be available to everyone around the table. Appropriate wines were served with each dish. This was truly dining on a royal scale.

During the planning of the party I had been advised that as a traditional gesture of friendliness I should place a small portion of some delicacy on my neighbors plate. He would take and eat it and then express his delight with the food. In turn he would then place a portion on my plate and I would do the same. This apparently was an old custom and I was assured that my guests would consider it a compliment to them and the Chinese culture. I was a trifle nervous, as my ability with chopsticks was far from skillful, but well into the meal I decided to take a shot at it. I carefully lifted the selected morsel and without any accident placed it on my neighbors plate. He was absolutely delighted and made all the expected polite noises. A few minutes later he lifted a portion from his plate and moved to place it on mine. Unfortunately the wine had by now flowed generously and he dropped the food directly onto my lap. He was absolutely distraught and apologized profusely until I told him that no harm had been done. It was quite late as we staggered out past the cauldrons that were being cleaned in preparation for the next day's meals.

At that time there was still a considerable amount of control over the everyday life of the people, but there were many signs that it was slowly but steadily being reduced. Information was moving fairly freely, and people knew what was happening in the rest of the world. BBC and USA programs were shown on TV, and business was expanding in the private sector. In many respects the officials I talked with were afraid that if controls were lifted too quickly, then China could fall into chaos at least in the business world, as we later saw occurred in the Soviet Union.

The decision of the Chinese Government to limit children to one per family was one aspect of their policy that was causing an ongoing uproar in many countries especially among some religious groups. However seeing what this meant in practice certainly gained my support for this policy. There is no doubt that China is overpopulated, as are many if not all of the Far Eastern countries. The Chinese government took a very bold step in limiting families, but it is difficult to know what else they could have done. However the results were dramatic, and I saw none of the poverty and sickness that was apparent in the children of many other countries that I visited. Every child that I saw in China appeared to be well fed, warmly dressed and a valued member of the family and society.

An evening scene, could almost be an old Chinese painting

The modern street scene in Beijing

Of course visiting one city is not enough experience to make a sound opinion of any country, but I came away with a feeling that China would continue to grow both economically and in the areas of freedom and democracy. Not a fast transition, and certainly not as quickly as many people both inside and outside China would prefer, but steadily and without the upheaval we have seen in other countries. 

The Lands of The Raj

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My connections with India began many years earlier when I was about 5 years old. While visiting my Grandparents at their home on Breydon Water, my Great Uncle, (my Grandmother's brother), who was visiting from India, arrived for a few days to see his sister. I can picture him to this day, a typical part of the old British Empire. White haired and with a thick white moustache he was a very handsome man, heavy and rugged in stature. He was sitting on the lawn in a wooden armchair and behind him stood the tallest man I had ever seen. He wore a turban, with a full dark beard. I can remember little else, but as I grew older my Grandmother filled in the picture.

Like my Grandmother, my Great Uncle, was part of a very poor family of farm workers living on the Norfolk/Suffolk border. As a teenager he was in trouble for some mischievous acts and the local magistrate gave him what was a common sentence in those days, the option of joining the army or going to goal. He choose the army and was sent to India where he served as an ordinary foot soldier. After a few years there, he met a Swedish missionary, fell in love with her and eventually they were married. He gave up his wild ways and managed to buy himself out of the army which was allowed in those days. He and his wife had sufficient money to buy a piece of land in the remote and almost uninhabited foothills of the Himalayas, and set out to farm the wilderness. Fate was with him in two ways.

The capital of India was then as now New Delhi, a totally new city that had just been designed and built specifically to house the government of India. Being on the plain, the heat and humidity in summer was extremely uncomfortable and in those days air conditioning was not available. It was therefore decided to set up a summer capital at a site with a more comfortable climate. The Government would then move there for the summer period, and of course some personnel would have to remain all year round to maintain the offices. They choose a tiny town called Simla, high up in the foothills of the Himalayas with a cool, comfortable climate and this happened to be where my Great Uncle had set up his farm. He won a contract to supply the milk and meat for the officials living in the new summer capital, and as this business grew it put him on the financial road to wealth and success.

The second thing occurred while he was setting up his farm. Some of his cattle had been killed by marauding tigers  and therefore one night he was sitting up in a hide in a tree with his rifle waiting for the culprit to appear. Nothing occurred until very early in the morning when he heard screams from a hut in the nearby village. He ran over and found the tiger about to attack a woman. He shot the tiger, very fortunately before it could harm her or anyone else in the village. At daybreak he was back in his cottage having breakfast when a small party arrived. It was the woman who had been attacked, plus her family including the tall man I saw standing behind my Great Uncle's chair. This was the woman's husband who explained that as my Great Uncle had saved the life of his wife, he and his family now belonged to my Great Uncle. He was a Sikh and he explained this was their tradition. My Great Uncle explained that he was a poor farmer and could hardly afford servants, but the tall man said that it did not make any difference, they were now his people and belonged to him. They moved in with my Great Uncle, worked in the house and on the farm, and the tall man became his manservant and bodyguard. As time passed the tall Sikh and my Great Uncle became firm friends and went everywhere together.

Within a few years of this incident my Great Uncle prospered and became quite wealthy. He had children and they were all sent to England to be educated in the best schools. One son became the Aide to the Viceroy of India, and one of the more powerful men in that country. I believe he participated in the return of India to the people.

First Shock.
I had forgotten most of this when I first set foot on Indian soil. I had been sent to give some lectures to the budding electronics industry, and very quickly fell under the spell of the country. In spite of the crowds at the airport pushing and shoving and grabbing at my baggage, and the masses of people in the streets I began to understand why my Great Uncle would never leave, even when he became a very wealthy man who could afford to live anywhere in the world. Not that my first impressions were very favorable. At that time the country had moved far to the left and almost everything was run by a government department. I was booked into an enormous hotel owned and operated by the government. A stark echoing building with dramatic lobby and entrance hall, built in marble, but little in the way of comfort and very few guests. Although it had been built to encourage tourists, the magnificent rooms were equipped with the typical wood and rope Indian beds and similar efforts to show off the traditional Indian way of life.  The entrance hall was huge with the echoing marble floors and columns, but few facilities. There were very few visitors living there during my stay and a few years later as I passed by I saw it was empty and had been shut down . The bureaucrats reigned supreme and poverty was everywhere. An impossible level of taxation together with the inability to purchase needed machines and equipment from overseas stifled growth. The Indian rupee at that time could not be exchanged for other currency.

        
Poverty beyond our understanding.

Yet good humor and friendliness.

My wife and I were horrified to see people literally starving in the gutters. There was nothing that we could do except to hope that our training programs would help in some small way to improve the country's economic situation. Officials were very poorly paid and most lived in accommodation provided by the government. This was far from luxurious, providing only the basic living quarters in rows of small concrete houses with few if any luxuries. We were amused when a very senior minister asked us to give him a lift in the car that had been provided for us, as his scooter, that he used to get to his office, had broken down. Yet in spite of all the problems the people had a sense of humor and friendliness that made walking the crowded streets of New Delhi a fascinating and delightful experience. Of course there were beggars at every corner and everywhere small children holding out their hands for money. But then we looked at ourselves and saw that compared to most of those around us we were very wealthy people. In spite of the tiny hands constantly tugging at our sleeves we were never afraid for our safety as we had been in some other countries.

The "Days of the British".
The British had long since departed from India, and the country was now totally in the hands of the Indian people. But the British traditions had taken hold and still remained strong. I was pleased to find that for most people the memories of British control were not the terrible recollections of an oppressed people as some of the writers of the day suggested. There was no anger towards the British, in fact quite the reverse. One Govt. official said that it was the British who transformed India from a collection of small states, who were always fighting with each other, into a great country. One young engineer summed up the feelings very well. "In many respects" He told me, "Things ran much more smoothly under British control. But now we are learning to govern ourselves, and we can make our own mistakes". English was still the language of the educated Indian, and most people spoke English to some degree. One man even went so far as to claim that the English spoken in India was much purer than that used in England. Certainly we never had any language problem at least in the towns and cities. We even met some teens who had gone to private schools in India and spoke only English.

Many other things remained from the days of the British Raj. Cricket was the main sport and was followed religiously by the fans. On one occasion our flight from New Delhi to another city was delayed several hours as the plane had been diverted to pick up a visiting cricket team. The legal system, the police and the military all functioned much as they had in the empire days, and in spite of the swing to the left, democracy in the British tradition reigned in the country. Afternoon tea was served in all the hotels, and "fish and chips" were available from restaurants in the city. The country wide railway system that the British had built was one of the largest in the world and was still operating efficiently. We even saw a few of their enormous steam locomotives that were still being used although the changeover to diesel and electric was almost complete. The streets were filled with copies of the British Morris car of the 40's. In those days the Indian Govt. controlled all auto production, and had bought the design from the British company. It was strange to see the streets filled with brand new copies of a car that had ceased to be made in the U.K for more than 30 years. But it was impossible to import cars from overseas, and it was the only model available after months or years waiting. Of course in the cities the tricycle both motor and pedal driven provided most of the transport.

Traffic circle  New Delhi

Wide open roads New Delhi

Sir Edward Lutyns, a famed Victorian architect, had designed New Delhi as the capital city of India. It was built from scratch on open ground and he had given the official area very wide streets and avenues, with wide tree lined grass borders. Even the traffic of today moved freely here. The official buildings were magnificent and we frequently walked to the adjacent park where the teenagers would be playing cricket and many were anxious to try out their English. One area of New Delhi had been designed for the embassies of foreign countries, and the formal residences of ministers and high officials. Here again was open space, trees and grass. In more recent years hotels sprang up nearby primarily for visitors and tourists, and all the major hotel chains were represented.

General hospital in Calcutta 
(Mother Teresa)

British" church in Calcutta

On a trip to Calcutta we had time to wander through that city and came across a church built during the early time of British rule. It could have been taken from any village in the British Isles. The memorials were particularly fascinating and brought home the number of men who "died in a foreign field". Some were for soldiers who had died in the fighting for the Khyber Pass, or killed during the uprising in such and such a state. Places and events that had been words in a history book, suddenly became reality. The general hospital was also from the time of the "Raj", a red brick building that would have looked perfectly at home in any British city. We were told that this was the base from which Mother Teresa worked. Calcutta was packed with humanity and often it was difficult to walk in the crowded streets. 

We were almost always housed in one of modern western style hotels, that provided all the comfort and service that we could ask for. The center of New Delhi was very similar to any other modern city, with bustling modern stores and restaurants. But a short distance from the center and poverty was everywhere. I was taken to see one of the poorer districts and this had a tremendous impact on me. Here was poverty such as I had never even dreamed existed. People squatting around little fires on the ground trying to cook their food. Tiny hovels covered every square foot of free ground, made of cardboard, scraps of wood, anything that was available. Everywhere there were crowds of children. Most of them were barefoot, many completely naked, and far too many obviously in need of food and medical attention.

In later years these conditions improved, but the basic problem did not go away. On one of our later trips I was asked to meet with a senior government official in New Delhi. I had no idea what he wanted, in fact I had only briefly met him once before. "You have been coming to India for several years" He said, "I would like to hear your comments, as an impartial observer, on the changes you see in our country". I told him that when we first came to India we were horrified at the conditions we saw. With the years things had dramatically changed, and we no longer saw the signs of starvation that had concerned us in the past. It appeared that the standard of living for the whole country had improved dramatically. I told him that in my opinion they should be congratulated for all that had been done for the people.

I will never forget his response. He smiled and thanked me, but then he shook his head and said, "We have worked very hard to improve our agriculture and now we can feed all our people, and even export a small amount of food. But next year we will have a million more mouths to feed, and the year following a further million and the next year it will be five millions more. We cannot keep up with the population growth and if it continues we face the worst famine the world has ever seen".

The more I traveled in the area the more his words rang true. I remember the streets of Calcutta that were so crowded with people that walking was difficult. I remember visiting the market in Katmandu in Nepal and found the streets so packed with people as to be uncomfortable. Everywhere there were children. Children who obviously needed food, decent clothes and in many cases the attention of a doctor. Children who would grow up with little or no education and join the thousands already looking for work. China had been forced to use draconian methods to try to halt their increase in population growth. The Indian government was desperately trying to stabilize their population on a voluntary basis but without much success. The problem lay buried in the traditions of the past. In most of these countries in old age the family has to support the elders, as there is no Social Security. The standard of living for the parents is based therefore on the number of children who survive to support them. As the level of child mortality is high, it is prudent to have large families to ensure some survivors.

In India, there is another problem. Although industry and technology is growing fast, agriculture is still the backbone of the country. Traditionally when a farmer dies, his land is divided between his sons. When a man had 100 acres, it could be split between three or four sons and each would receive sufficient land to assure the family's livelihood. With time the size of the plots dwindled and could no longer support a family. The sons therefore took their families and moved to the cities in search of employment. This explained to some degree the encampments in every city, like the one I had visited in Bombay.

The tradition of large families has become firmly entrenched, even among many of the educated people. My wife and I were invited to the home of a young engineer in New Delhi. During the evening I congratulated him on his two daughters, both talented and beautiful children and said that his family must be proud of them. His reply was "I have no family". He explained that a few months previously his Mother had called a family meeting in his apartment. "As you know" he explained "In India the family is very large and this apartment was packed with relatives. My Mother sat my wife and I on this sofa and then demanded that we explain to the family when we were going to have more children. I told them that we did not want more children, we were very happy with our two daughters and wanted to be able to give them a sound education to assure their future. My Mother was very angry 'How dare you deprive me of the pleasure of having many grandchildren' she said, 'You no longer have a family', and since then we have been completely ostracized and not one family member will acknowledge us in any way". Certainly among the professional people families are much smaller than in past years but it may take centuries for the population growth to stabilize and by then it may be too late. Signs of the problem are everywhere, air and water pollution, lack of housing, decreasing farmland, denuded hillsides.

Countryside, far from the beaten track.

The nearest village,  foreigners were a novelty.

Laundry day

  
The local market

While driving through the countryside one day we were diverted because of a flood to a side road. It meandered through farmland until it was little more than a winding dirt track. We passed through a small village and stopped to ask the way. We could see into the huts and noted the dirt floor and the lack of any furniture except a bed consisting of a wooden frame with rope passing back and forth to provide some semblance of a mattress. Our driver explained that other then the cooking pots this was all the people owned. When we stopped, older children instantly surrounded the car. As they crowded round and tapped on the windows the driver told us not to be frightened, they were curious as we were probably the first westerners they had seen. He said that they were asking for pens and fortunately we had been warned and brought pockets full of ballpoint pens that we gave away to them. They bowed and thanked us for the pens as if we had given them something of great value. We were told that they could not go to school unless they had a pen or pencil and many were too poor to buy one. Yet in spite of this abject poverty the people had a certain dignity and most were polite and helpful.

Because of local flooding one day we had to detour through a very rural area and eventually we were driving along a single track dirt road, with  no other traffic around. After a while we came to a river where the women were washing their clothes and their cooking pots. The road ran along the top of a dam about five feet high and several hundred feet long. Normally the river ran only a few inches deep over the dam and traffic merely drove through the stream. Now however there was a much deeper flow of water and our driver stopped before we ran into it. The flow of water was over a foot deep and running very rapidly. The driver was concerned that either the engine would be flooded or the car would float and be washed over the dam. A few children were playing in the water and soon a crowd collected and told the driver they would push the car if necessary and stop it going over the edge. There was little option, we were miles from any town, so we gingerly crept into the flood with the kids all around. The water ran in under the doors and there were several inches in the bottom of the car, and we could feel the car starting to float sideways. But our little helpers laughingly pushed and shouted and eventually we reached the other side. 

We also saw many signs of growth and changing ways. The television and later the computer have probably done more to encourage people to advance themselves than anything else that has been invented. When people see the standard of living of other countries they want it for themselves and are willing to work to that end. We visited a small electronics factory owned by a young woman. This was considered revolutionary as in the past no woman had every ventured into this field, although everywhere we saw the advancement of women in industry. We also visited a small factory out in the countryside that a young entrepreneur had set up to make satellite systems. We sat in his lab and watched CNN. It was fascinating to see how the skills of the village craftsmen had been harnessed to build the ten foot dishes, and the home made equipment built for the assembly of the electronics. There was every indication that with changes in the economic situation India could move quickly into the modern age.

Concert hall shaped like a violin.
Bangalore (I think)

Magnificent temple of peace
for all religions. New Delhi

Bureaucracy.
The change in government: happened sooner than I would have imagined and before our final trip we were involved in setting up plants to build computers, TVs and all the technically advanced electronic systems. The reduction in bureaucracy had a marked impact. In the early days the government ran everything and controlled almost every aspect of industry

I remember when my wife and I were asked to fly to Madras from New Delhi. There was a travel desk in the hotel, which was government. owned, but they would only accept cash, neither credit cards nor checks could be used to pay the bill and so we had to go to the head travel office in the center of New Delhi where we were told we could pay with our credit card. When we arrived I asked our driver just to wait outside, as we only had to pick up the tickets. He said nothing but told me he would wait with the car in a nearby car park. He knew better than me what lay ahead.

Inside was a desk in the hallway where we first had to fill in a form with our names addresses, passport number etc and say what we were there for. Then we were allowed to enter a large room filled with benches with a low dais at one end. As we went in we were given a number and told to sit and wait until our number was called. On the dais was a long counter with a computer and several young ladies. Behind them sat a man at another desk. We waited and waited, and eventually my number was called. I went up to the counter, explained I was on government. business and needed to fly to Madras but was told that I first had to fill in a form stating where I was going, and which flight I wanted to use. There was quite a fuss when I said that I did not know what flights were available and I needed them to give me that information. We finally got this settled and sat down to wait again. Eventually we were called back to the desk to pay the fare. This also caused some concern, as they obviously were not used to handling a credit card. Each page of the ticket was printed out individually and handed to the man sitting at the back of the counter whose sole task appeared to be to assemble them into the familiar folder. The folder was then passed back to the desk clerk who checked them and gave them to us. Just under an hour to purchase two tickets. A few years later things had changed dramatically. Much of the bureaucracy had disappeared, everything moved faster and much more smoothly, we could have been in any American city.

Travel in India.
We thoroughly enjoyed working in the various cities around India. Each had its own particular atmosphere and we slowly began to recognize the many cultural differences in the various parts of the country. In many places the palaces of past rulers were now open to the public, and we marveled at the amazing skill of the builders and artists of past centuries. My wife found the Taj Mahl especially fascinating together with the many palaces and forts surrounding it. It was interesting to see how the original builders had arranged for water to flow through the rooms of the palaces and spray through fountains in the inner courtyards to provide an old but practical form of air conditioning. In many respects they had been very advanced in the technology they used in the design of their buildings.

One of the astronomical measuring systems. New Delhi.

Another astronomical measuring system. 

We were amazed to see the astronomical site in New Delhi, now a public park. The enormous structures that date back to the twelfth century, enabled their scientists to measure time very precisely from observing the sun, moon and stars. They could predict with great accuracy the movements of the celestial bodies. These were very carefully designed and built instruments, and demanded a very detailed understanding of the astronomy, and the physical sciences. In many respects they were far ahead of their time

My wife's favorite, the Taj Mahal

Catherine learning the skills of snake charming

On our first visit to the Taj we took a bus tour to get to Agra from New Delhi and this introduced us to the Indian bus driver. Over quite narrow and sometimes crowded roads our driver never slowed down for one second. I was initially sitting in the front seat but found this to be too hair raising and moved to the back. Looking ahead at times I could see the road totally blocked with bullock carts, trucks and bicycles, but we plowed on without slowing but with the horn blasting and somehow we always managed to get through the traffic without an accident. Not all vehicles were so lucky and ditched vehicles were not uncommon.

On a trip to Rajistan we realized that service stations were few and far between when we saw a very over-laden truck having it's rear axle removed to be repaired by the local blacksmith at the roadside. On this trip we stopped for a break at one of the government. rest stations that are set up in the more undeveloped areas to provide food, drink and toilet facilities for the travelers. In the car park were the usual peddlers of artifacts and also a snake charmer. As we got out of the bus the snake charmer rolled out his carpet, sat down and began to play his pipe. Once he had attracted a small crowd, he took the lid off the basket containing the snake. We gathered around as he swung his pipe back and forth but no snake appeared. He called a colleague who bravely put his hand in the basket and lifted up the snake moving it to the rhythm of the pipe. But the moment he let go the snake just fell back down into the basket. After two attempts the lid was banged onto the basket and the two men got up and marched out of the car park. I think the snake had died.

Highly developed irrigation systems

Man made gardens

Rugged, desert, but magnificent

Riding an elephant to the
mountain top palace

Rajistan was a fascinating state; mountainous and partly desert, the camel trains were still a common sight moving slowly along the roads, as was the occasional elephant. Many of the centuries old buildings in the cities were in excellent condition and had been occupied up until a few years back. The fortified palaces sitting on the crests of the hills were especially interesting, The centuries old aqueducts and irrigation systems also showed that this had been a very advanced civilization. It was here that we finally experienced the pleasure of riding on an elephant from one site to another. It is certainly a majestic way of traveling, far above the less fortunate pedestrians walking by, at least as soon as you get used to the rhythmic-rolling gait.

We were asked to lecture at a laboratory in the foothills of the Himalayas to the north of Calcutta, and set off from New Delhi with a government official. We first flew to Calcutta for the night and the next morning set off in a small plane for the few hundred miles to Guwati. The flight over the mountains was fascinating as the weather was clear and we flew low enough so that we could easily see the ground below. Finally we landed at the small airport in the hills. As we were walking to the terminal, a man in civilian clothes came up and asked for our passports. I asked why, as we were only coming from Calcutta. He explained that he was in charge of security for the area and after checking our passports he found we did not have the authority to visit Guwati. He explained that this was defined as a "special area" due to attacks on the villages by rebels who were conducting a campaign of civil disobedience. The government. official traveling with us explained that we were working for the Indian government. but this had no effect. We could only stay, we were told, if the Minister of Electronics himself personally called the security chief. Unfortunately when our government. man called New Delhi to get the authority, the minister was in church, not in his office, as it was Good Friday and he was a Christian. We were taken to the terminal building and told we were to wait for the next flight out. Until then a soldier with a machine gun was posted to watch over us. There we waited for a few hours until the flight to Calcutta came in and we were immediately shuttled back to that city. We were not too concerned. We had wanted to see Guwati but at least we would now have another day to look around Calcutta. We were probably lucky that we did not stay in Guwati, as when we picked up the newspaper the next morning the headlines proclaimed that the rebels had blown up the police station in that city.

There was a certain amount of unrest in several parts of the country, primarily caused by differences between the various religious factions. This was never of much concern to us, but at one hotel our room that was guarded 24 hrs a day by an armed soldier who sat at the end of the corridor. We were never able to find out the reason for this, but the guard was always there and would very politely greet us as went to, or left our room.. The newspapers occasionally reported incidents, and on one occasion we were advised not to go out of our hotel after dark. But these were rare and in general we had no fear for our safety.

On one four day vacation trip into the countryside we stayed for one night at a hotel in an area that had been popular during the past years as a holiday resort. It was adjacent to a park that has been formed when a huge dam had been built many years ago as part of an irrigation system. The hotel would have made an excellent movie lot for a film of India in the 1850's. In the center was an open courtyard with a fountain and rooms opening off on two floors. Nothing had changed in the past fifty years. Our bath room was enormous, but bare concrete, the old fashioned white enameled bath standing in one corner. The hot water did not work. The bedroom was almost bare except for two single beds each draped with a mosquito net. We went into the dining room for a meal, and a couple of small birds flew around and perched on the chandelier over the table. The waiters treated us like royalty, almost putting the food into our mouths. While we were waiting for the food to be served I saw a small lizard climbing up the wall and going behind a picture. I got up to look at it and immediately the waiter asked if I would prefer him to move the picture. We had four porters to carry our two small bags from the car; one walked in front carrying the room key. This had obviously been a magnificent palace in older times. It was now dilapidated, but everyone went out of their way to make us feel at home.

Back to the 1850's. The central hall.

Back to the 1850's.  The luxury bedroom.

On one visit to Hydrabad we arrived late in the evening at the airport and were met by the government representative and taken to our hotel. Then it was found that our reservations had been lost and the hotel was full. The government. representative, went to see the hotel manager and after some argument he told us we would be given the Maharaja's private suite until a room was available. We had a private staircase sweeping out of the lobby and the bedroom and sitting room were enormous, as were the bathrooms, all complete with shining marble floors. It was a trifle eerie wandering through these magnificent echoing rooms at night, like living in a museum, but it was an interesting experience. The next day we were moved to the conventional visitors rooms that were in fact much more comfortable.

Magnificent old temple. still used.

We were (inadvertently) remarried here

We tried to visit all of the old temples that were open to the public, and in one we were highly embarrassed when we were taken to the head of a very long queue of supplicants waiting to enter the holiest central area in the temple. It was a magnificent building many centuries old but still in full use. We were duly blessed and dropped a few coins in the bowl and looked at the magnificent carvings and idols. As we left this part of the temple our guide, a priest with little or no English took us to another small chapel and once there he said various prayers in front of some other carving of the gods, sprinkled water and so on. It was only after this was all over and we were leaving that our guide explained we had just been married.

Weddings ---- and "Delhi belly"

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The traditional Indian weddings were very different affairs than those in the USA. In both Delhi and Bombay from our hotel window we had several times seen the parades that began the celebrations. The groom dressed in the finest jewels, silks and satins, riding a white horse at the head of a procession. He was followed by drums, music and a procession of friends and relatives stretching for several hundred yards with lights and banners. All of the celebrations appeared to be centered around the groom, the bride was never seen. Then we were invited by a colleague to attend the wedding celebrations of a friend of his in New Delhi.

My wife being introduced to the bride. 

Visiting some friends in New Delhi.

The celebrations were held in a large tent that had been erected on an area of grass. We arrived just after dark and found the bride sitting on a throne on a stage. When we went to congratulate her she did not speak but sat with downcast eyes. We were told this was traditional, as the bride did not take part in the celebrations. The groom was very much in the spotlight, dressed in white satin circulating and talking to all the guests. There were several hundred people in the tent, as well as beggars from the streets, who were allowed to eat all they wished, also as part of the tradition.

There was food in abundance but I kept away from it because my diabetes demands a strict diet and also we had both suffered from "Delhi belly" during previous visits to India. However my colleague came to say that the host was very upset because I was not eating and this would be considered an insult, so "Please eat something". Not wanting to insult anyone I took a small dish of ice cream. It seemed hardly likely that this could get contaminated, but when I returned the empty dish I was horrified to see it dropped into a tub of cloudy cold water, rinsed and put back on the counter to be refilled. My fears were confirmed a few hours after we left the party, and I spent most of the night in the bathroom.

The wedding celebrations apparently went on all night with the groom mixing with the guests while the bride remained sitting on her throne with downcast eyes surrounded by her attendants. The traditions are still maintained in spite of the changing society. This young couple at the wedding we attended were from quite wealthy families, both were very well educated, both were medical doctors. I was told that a large wedding is considered essential to maintain a position in Indian society and parents will mortgage their home and get into incredible debt to make sure that their daughter's wedding matches any other in the neighborhood.

We had now become accustomed to "Delhi Belly', but this did not make it any less frightening. On only one visit did we avoid this horror. It is quite frightening, coming on very quickly and the nausea and vomiting has to be experienced to be believed, followed by two or three days of being completely "whacked out". On one trip I had to lecture immediately following an attack and to this day I cannot remember anything about the session although I was told it was all OK.

We tried to minimize the possibility of an attack by avoiding meals outside our hotel except for known restaurants, or drinking anything that could contain contaminated water. However this was easier said than done. On one occasion I asked for water, and was surprised to see the waiter bring it in a pitcher, as most of the hotels provided bottled water. I asked him for bottled water, so he came back with an empty bottle and filled it from the pitcher. We soon explained what we wanted and this was corrected, but in the hot climate of India ice is pleasant in any cold drink and who knows what water is used to make the ice. So all of the precautions can eventually be of no avail.

We always had shots for the major tropical diseases prior to leaving the USA and took our prescription drugs with us to cover the major possible sicknesses. While medical services are available in all the major cities, we were advised to take these precautions, and other than the stomach problem we had no major sickness during our visits. We later found that the changes in the strain of perfectly ordinary bugs can account for "Delhi belly". Some Indian friends who lived for a while in the USA suffered in exactly the same way when they returned to India, until their system became accustomed to the situation.

Some Final Thoughts
We always enjoyed our trips to India. We soon became personal friends with many of the people we worked with, until going to India had the feeling of going home. As New Delhi airport swung into view under the aircraft we could anticipate the heat, the crowds of people, but know that our friends would be waiting to welcome us. Where ever we went we were made to feel at home, and shown kindness and hospitality. We still keep in contact with some of them and they visit us whenever they come to the USA.

Like all countries India has many problems, but in spite of the overpopulation, the crowds in the cities and the poverty that is still obvious in so many places, there is always a feeling of friendliness, and warmth, Most people greet the stranger with a smile.

Off To Japan -- Hai!

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I made several trips to Japan, both to lecture at some of the technical seminars and to consult with clients. The first trip was my initiation into what I eventually found to be a completely different society from that of the West. Superficially there appeared to be little difference, but the true nature of the Japanese culture was soon very apparent once the western veneer was stripped away, and I quickly found that to live and work effectively I had to take this into consideration.

On the first visit I was acting for a machine vendor from the USA and went to the headquarters of his potential customer just outside Tokyo accompanied by one of the sales people from his Tokyo office. We duly arrived at the main lobby where we were met by a company representative who talked with us for a few minutes, exchanged business cards and left. A long way to travel for a short meeting of less than ten minutes, but my Japanese colleague explained that this was the normal way of doing business and we would have a longer meeting when we came the next time.

A few months later we once again were met in the lobby of this company, but this time we were escorted to a conference room where there were about twelve people sitting along one side of a long table. Each was individually introduced,  bowed to, business cards were exchanged and after they had been carefully read, I placed them in my wallet. We were then given designated seats on the opposite side of the table and the questions began.

Questioning was detailed and probed very thoroughly into every detail of the machines the company wanted to buy. I was seated opposite the main questioner but I noticed that from time to time he glanced along  to a very quiet older individual seated towards the end of the the table. We talked for about half an hour and then once again we were thanked for coming, shook hands, bowed and departed. My Japanese colleague then explained that although the person seated opposite was the nominal leader of the party, the man seated at the end of the table was in fact the senior official who would make any decisions.

At the third session a few months later we were once again similarly seated at the conference table but this time we were first treated to tea served graciously by very graceful young ladies. We were then questioned once again, and many of the questions of the previous session were repeated and our answers checked against what was obviously a detailed transcription of our responses given at our previous visit. If there was the slightest variation we were challenged with "But the last time you said ---", and our replies analyzed in detail. This time the session was much more enjoyable and we left knowing that the signed contract would be in our office within a few days.

I was staying at a small hotel near the Tokyo tower and close to the offices of our agents in the city, who supplied my Japanese colleague to act as guide and interpreter. We traveled mostly by train and I would meet him in the hotel lobby around 6.30 in the morning when we would head for the main station and take the high speed train to whatever part of the country we were to visit. We would then stay in any convenient hotel at that site for a day or two and then return to Tokyo to prepare for the next foray into the hinterland.

At the end of the third week we were getting rather ragged with all the travel, late nights and early mornings and my colleague proposed that we should take a rest at the week end. He suggested we should go to the "hot springs" for the week end and I readily agreed. However he appeared a little diffident, "Japanese style hotel" he explained, "Sleep on floor, no bathrooms, only toilet in room, and use communal bath". I told him I was happy to do anything he was prepared to do and we set off by train on Saturday morning the for our short period of relaxation.

We arrived at the mountains and the volcanic area early in the afternoon. It looked rather like an Alpine village with ski lifts into the surrounding peaks although at that time there was no snow. We took a bus from the station to the outskirts of the town to an old fashioned typical Japanese style building complete with the bowed tiled roofs and ornamental gateway. We were welcomed by the manager in the foyer and given slippers to wear in the hotel, while our shoes were stacked away on a shelf near the entrance, and then we were taken to our room.

The room was extremely elegant but completely bare except for a refrigerator in the corner, two mats on the polished wood floor and a low table with a vase of flowers. A young lady came in and we all sat at the table when she produced two large envelopes into which we placed our wallets, passport, and any other valuables. She explained that they would be held in the hotel safe until we were ready to leave, they were sealed and we signed the flap. She explained that there were no locks on any of the doors, then told us the times of the meals and left.

My colleague sitting on the verandah of our room.

My colleague then pulled open two doors let into the wall, opening into a clothes closet where Japanese robes were hung and we had to change into them, and put away our western clothes. He explained that while we were in the hotel or "royoken" we would be expected to follow the Japanese traditions. He then gave me a short lesson in the etiquette of slippers, such as never stand on a mat in anything but socks or bare feet, take off slippers at the door of the room, only wear special slippers to go to the toilet and leave them at the toilet door. But before that we had time to see the surrounding area, so we took the ski lift to the top of the mountain and spent the afternoon walking in the surrounding slopes. When we returned to the hotel my colleague said there was time for a bath before supper.

I must admit I was a little nervous at the idea of a nude session but I need not have been concerned. At the bath room men and women had separate dressing areas, and it quickly became apparent that nude bathing was not the erotic event that the western ideas would suggest. We went out of the dressing room to the adjacent bath area, which was rather like an indoor swimming pool, with a wash cloth about a foot square held in such a way as to cover our sex organs. The women we passed covered themselves in a similar manner with one arm hiding their breasts. The flow of spring water in the indoor bath was too hot for us and we  wandered outside where outdoor pools were a trifle cooler. I finally ended up sitting on a rock beside an old lady in her 80's up to our necks in hot water. We did not have a common language but smiled and nodded to each other. The heat and the relaxation, no noise but the running water, with the blue skies and trees above quickly removed any tension and we stayed there until my colleague suggested it was time for the evening meal.

The restaurant had western style chairs and tables, but only chopsticks and very typical Japanese food. It was tasty but by the time we had finished it was around 7pm and still daylight. We wandered back to our room through the beautiful Japanese garden that filled the courtyard. The table had been placed in the corner of the room and the beds laid out on the mats. There was beer in the fridge and two lounging chairs on the verandah so we sat, drank the beer  and watched the sun set over the mountains, and then came the question "What do we do now"? No TV, no radio, no books or papers. So we went to bed. I was dreading sleeping on the mat that was only about an inch thick but quickly went to sleep and only awoke when the sun came up in the morning.

Trying to fit into my surroundings.

We were welcomed into the restaurant by bowing waitresses and our breakfast was quickly served, including two raw eggs that we cooked as desired over an alcohol burner on the table. We spent the remainder of the morning walking in the hotel gardens and around the village until it was time for lunch. We were late and by the time we had finished our meal we were the only guests left in the room. The staff  were having their meal at a far corner table and the head waitress came over as we were finishing and made some comment. My colleague signed for me stand and she bowed low to me which I returned.  She then made a little speech addressed to me, a comment to my colleague, bowed and left. He had a huge smile on his face and explained that the woman had asked him to compliment me on the "very civilized manner that I behaved" while in the hotel. I had tried to follow the Japanese customs and apparently I had been successful. This had in turn reflected upon him, and removed some of the concern he had been hiding that he might "loose face" if I had made some social gaffe. 

On another occasion I was taken to Nagasaki by one of the salesman to give a presentation to a client. All went well except that the salesman was the wildest driver I have ever ridden with and the factory was out in the countryside. That evening he said he intended to show me a traditional Japanese night out, and I was a little concerned as to what this might be. However later that evening he took me to a restaurant in what appeared to be the entertainment quarter of the city. We sat on cushions at the low table and ate several dishes but my host complained that he wanted "proper beef" and so we left after a while and walked down several streets to another restaurant. Here we were welcomed into a private room and were soon joined by two highly made up geishas. They duly poured the drinks and tried to make jokes and keep up the conversations. When they found I could not speak Japanese there was a lot of discussion and my host explained they were going to get a girl who spoke American. The geisha sitting beside me got up bowed and left and a few minutes later a young lady in jeans and a white sweat shirt came in. "Hi, how are you" she said and sat beside me. As we talked she told me she was the proprietor's daughter and was on vacation from the university of Honolulu. 

After a while the "beef" came, ---- it looked just like any other beef to me. The young lady began to tell me how much she enjoyed the way of life in the USA, and then she suddenly asked if I could give her some advice. She did not want to return permanently to Japan and the Japanese lifestyle, but her father who apparently followed strictly the Japanese traditions had told her she was to return at the end of the year, marry a chosen husband and run the restaurant. She wanted to please her father but said that after living in the USA she could never return to the life that her father wanted for her. Apparently at that time many women in Japan were totally under the control of the males in the family. Not much that I could tell her except to be honest with her parents and then go and do what she wanted. A sad situation but a glimpse into a life style I could only imagine.

Apparently it was not considered polite to discuss personal matters and it was only after a couple of weeks that I learned my colleague lived over an hours train ride from Tokyo. I commented that he must be tired with all the travel and have little time for sleep. It was then that I found that when he left me at night he went to the bath house for an hour then dozed all night in one of the armchairs in the lobby of my hotel until morning. Apparently the cost of a hotel room was not covered by the company and was far too expensive for his pocket. I urged him to come and share my room although it only had a tiny single bed and was little bigger than a large closet, but he completely refused.

Space in Tokyo was at a premium, and I was told that owning a car was only allowed if space was available for off street parking. I saw a perfect example of this one evening as I watched the residents of an apartment opposite the hotel  returning from work. When the door of their garage opened there was a car standing there but as I watched it disappeared up into the ceiling. The owners had built in an elevator so that two cars could be parked in the single garage. 

On another trip, I was asked to check the methods being used in some smaller assembly shops dotted around the main island of Japan. A world famous electronic company had set up these small operations, usually around 100 people, in the villages to keep down manufacturing costs. They were legally owned by the local manager who ran the business but in fact were totally controlled by the parent company. An engineer from the parent company drove our van from place to place and it was interesting to note how very different the life style was away from the major cities, including the very plain meals that we bought at the local restaurants. A few years later I was asked to go back and check on the same operations and I was fascinated to find that my instructions given during the previous visit were still being meticulously followed. One operator proudly showing me the sketches I had scribbled on an odd piece of paper still glued to the side of her machine.

The people at that time seemed to be much more formal in their lifestyle and stuck strictly to their rules and regulations. One Saturday afternoon as the weather was warm I joined a tour party to see the center of Tokyo. We walked along the streets following our guide who carried a banner that we had to keep in view at all times. She would collect us round her, describe what we were seeing and then lead us in line to the next point of interest. We eventually arrived in the area of the Tokyo Tower and as the party was scheduled to walk back towards the docks where we had started the tour, I told the guide that I was leaving as I could navigate my way back to my hotel by aiming at the Tower. She was very upset and angry. I had to stay until we had finished the tour she told me, it was not permitted to leave before we returned to the starting point. I explained that I was living at the foot of the tower, I was tired, but to no avail. In the end I just walked away and she was still calling after me as I turned the corner. 

Singapore ----- Benevolent Dictatorship

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When the company in Montreal changed hands, the new owners made dramatic changes, one of which was to shut down all their overseas offices. One of these was in Singapore and I had come to know the manager of that office, who I will call TC, very well. He was dismissed with a curt fax merely telling him the office was closed. This sudden shut down of the offices eventually  contributed to the demise of the company from it's premier position in the electronics industry. But by this time I was running my own consulting business and I found that TC had bought out the Singapore office and was operating it as an import/export business for the electronics industry.

I had kept in contact with TC and he soon arranged for me to give a series of lectures in Singapore and Malaysia. This started a long term friendship and my wife and I became acquainted with the island city and always enjoyed our work there and the friendship of TC and his family. At the time there was a great deal of criticism in the US papers of the style of government in Singapore claiming that it was a dictatorship. Certainly it was not the democratic system that we enjoy but it was very definitely directed to the well being of the people and had very successfully brought together the many races and religions of the island country. We found the city well run, clean and completely safe. We walked the streets at all hours of the night, going back to our hotel, with no fear whatever for our safety. There were no signs of the poverty and slum like conditions we had seen in other nearby countries and all the people we talked to were very happy with their government. We felt that this showed very clearly that democracy as we know it may  not be the perfect form of government for every country. 

.    Singapore --- A spotlessly clean, safe country.

The shopping plaza's were as great as anything in the USA and we spent hours walking around the beautiful buildings. I also found a tailor who made suits for about half the price charged here and I could call in one day to be measured and the next day the suit was ready to take away. I still have some of his work hanging in  my closet. Between our days of work we also toured the harbor and took the overhead railway to view the outlying islands. Singapore was growing fast and an underground railway system was being suggested to solve the congested traffic problems. At that time only specially licensed vehicles were permitted in the city center during the day.

Every street in the city was spotless and after a very heavy rainstorm they were completely cleaned of dead leaves and and other debris, in the parks the grass was always immaculate. We spent quite a lot of time walking in the many parks and the islands in the harbor, often with TC or one of his family showing us the important things to look out for. One afternoon TC took us into Chinatown which had changed very little over the years and we visited the local stores and watched the craftsmen at work making the furniture, pictures and other works of art. We were particularly impressed by the craftsmen who made the various coffins that described the life style of the deceased. One for example was a half-scale model of a particular motor car that had been owned and loved by the dead person, but entirely made of paper so that it could be burned at the funeral. Some were of animals or houses or whatever had been the interest of the deceased.

I knew that Singapore had been protected by the Royal Norfolk Regiment during WW2 until overrun by the Japanese army and I found a beautiful memorial had been built to remember those who had given their lives. I found that it contained a "Woodgate" from my Fathers village. Not a relative that I remembered but the sight brought home the many who had died in "a foreign field".

Singapore was rapidly growing upwards with high rise buildings popping up all over the city, yet it still retained the quiet areas of narrow streets and old style buildings. At that time it was the center of the "hard drive" manufacturing for the computer industry, having lower wages than the USA but with a well educated work force. We always looked forward to visiting Singapore and meeting again with TC and his family. We always tried to fit in a visit to Singapore with our work in India and thus circled the world. NY to London, London to New Delhi, then from New Delhi to Singapore, Singapore to Narita (Japan), to San Francisco and back to New York.

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Nepal.  ----  Back in time

On one visit to India we had completed all our work  a week or so before Christmas and had planned to return to London and spend the holidays with family friends and relations. Unfortunately when we went to book our flight we found that all the seats had been booked weeks prior to the holiday because of the many Indians who were now living in England and who wished to be with their families over the holidays. We did not want to spend the holidays in India as most of our friends there had made their plans and we had told them we were leaving before Christmas. Nepal had only a few years before opened it's borders to the world and was still comparatively free of commercialism although the tourist industry was beginning to be opened up, so we decided to spend our holiday in that country. As a boy I had read about the attempts to climb Mt Everest and all mentioned going to Katmandu to stock up on supplies from the native markets, and this made the trip even more interesting.

We flew one evening from New Delhi and arrived in Katmandu around 9pm. We had booked a room at a new hotel that had just been opened and were told that transport would be available for us at the airport. However it took some time to get through the officialdom of visas and passports and by that time the bus had left and a phone call to the hotel suggested we should take a taxi. We had been warned of unscrupulous drivers who demanded additional money and then left their passengers miles from their destination, but finally found a driver who agreed to take us and and seemed to have sound credentials. We left the modern airport for the comparatively short drive to the city. However after about 20 minutes the driver and his colleague who sat up front with him, asked us if we knew the way to the hotel as they were lost. By now we were in the outskirts of the city  and driving along a very narrow, twisting road with high stone walls on either side. It was now quite late and the streets were deserted, with no street lights, and we began to wonder what lay in store for us, but eventually a single pedestrian was seen and a long discussion went on while we huddled in the back of the car wondering where we would end up. After almost an hour of driving back and forth through the narrow deserted streets we finally arrived and found the very comfortable cottage we had been assigned. The hotel was excellent and from our room we had a wonderful view of the snow covered mountains that we were told were about 150 miles away, but looked like clouds on the horizon. We could also see over the flat roofs of the nearby houses and found that many of the residents spent much of their day working and relaxing, even cooking on the roofs and it was fascinating to watch them and learn about their way of life. 

We walked most days from the hotel into the city and realized that basically little had changed over the past few hundred years. There was a very decrepit electric tram that had been installed by the Soviet union and ran to the next village, and one small shopping plaza with an escalator to the second floor (It was not working). There were several new hotels on the outskirts of the city and one street had been rebuilt in a modern style after an earthquake had demolished the old buildings. But much remained as it had always been, from the narrow streets with the open stores to the very many temples with their statues of the different gods. There was so much to see and we could have spent weeks trying to take in all the culture. The royal palace remained on the outskirts of the city, protected by a high wire fence and several new roads had been built into the neighboring countryside but most ended within a few miles. There were only three main roads in the country, one over the Himalayas to India, one to China and one to the western end of the country. The way into the city from our hotel was over a wide but almost dry river but one lane of the highway had collapsed and traffic in that direction had to drive down to the river level and take a rough temporary road. On the shore of the river we watched wire netting being made by hand on large frames with women weaving the wire in and out.

    Weaving wire netting on the river bank. Katmandu.

 In the city the crowds of people often made walking a frustrating task and we soon avoided the very busy streets. The native market was still as it had been for centuries with he butchers cutting up the meat on the sidewalks out in the open There was plenty to see in Katmandu and also on several days we took a taxi ride to the end of one of the local roads several miles out into the countryside. When the road ended we walked for a while on one of the many footpaths that climbed up and down the hills with an occasional house nestled among the green tiered fields. Children popped up all along the pathways running from the distant hills to greet us. Many were sadly in need of medical treatment with puss running from noses and ears and all appeared lacking in nourishment but they all greeted us with a smile. We had remembered to bring ball point pens that brought smiles to their faces. Unfortunately with the ever growing population the carefully built terraced mountainsides, that had existed for centuries, where the streams were carefully directed into the fields were now suffering badly. There was little alternative fuel but the wood from the trees and this was now in such short supply that the living trees were being cut down, allowing the run off to wash out some areas and instead of steps of green fields all that was left were cliffs of bare rock.

It was while we were in Nepal that the problems of overpopulation finally hit me. Modern medicine and improved nutrition had dramatically reduced the death rate, but with little work available in the countryside, the increase in population was damaging the countryside and in turn people were flocking to the city. But here the facilities were being completely overwhelmed and it was difficult to see where this would all end. For most families there was still the tradition to have many children and everywhere the effects of a lack of services and education were obvious.

We thoroughly enjoyed this step back in time and could easily imagine just how this country had been in the past. The first wheel seen in Nepal was on a plane that landed there in the 50's and until the road to India had been completed everything had to be imported on the backs of porters who carried their loads over the Himalayas. Cars were broken down in India into single loads that one man could handle and carried into Katmandu and reassembled. Yet Nepal had developed a surprisingly advanced civilization without the things we in the West considered necessary. The magnificent temples on the outskirts of the city showed not only artistic but building skills that were far in advance of their times. We finally drove to the airport for our trip back to India, this time in daylight and we were thrilled to fly through the peaks of the Himalayas looking upwards from the plane's window to view the tallest of the mountains.

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