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The overnight train to Visakhapatnam really was a good trip, and our
intime New Years celebration was just part of it. I deeply
enjoyed the chance to see people living their lives as Indians, albeit from the distance of our onrushing train. Around lunchtime we were there, pretty much on time.
This is the three-week conference and workshop organized by Ramakrishna
Rao. His invitation was the starting point that expanded into our two
month sojourn in India.
By now, I have gotten used to the mobile (cellphone) way, and, nearing
Vizag, I called Sonali and Jackson, who were to meet us at the station.
Sure enough, as we emerged with the throng, there they were. We were
delivered to the Palm Beach hotel, to be our home for almost three
weeks. Nice place, clean and pleasant, it is indeed on the shore, and
though we have to ignore the laundry operation outside on the deck, our
windows have a view of the waves coming in to the beach. We went for a
walk along the shore and were disappointed to find a black
and smelly stream depositing not-so-aromatic pollution just
upwind. Another day, we walked a different part of the
beach, and thankfully, the progress in cleaning up this
rather nice city is working. We like Vizag (short name) and
though it is not a place one hears about in the West, it is
to be recommended. Of the cities we have visited, this is the cleanest and most prosperous looking. Apparently this is because it is mostly new. Ram, our host, has lived here since the late 50s and he says it has grown from 40,000 to 2 million people in that time.
Even so, we quickly discovered that the ancient and primitive ways are
still here. We innocently turned left onto a small street that soon
became smaller, lined with poor sellers of vegetables, and busy with
mysterious activity of construction or demolition by clans of men in
dhotis and women (in saris) with headpads for carrying heavy pans of
stones, sand, and cement. Lefty wanted to flee, because the people
stare at westerners, at strangers, and especially at women. I feel them staring too, but it just seems like curiosity to me. To Lefty it feels uncomfortable, almost threatening. Then too, we also were confronted with the not-uncommon sight of a man peeing by the side of the road, quite naturally and unconcerned with us or the dozens of other people nearby.
By the next day most of the conference people arrived, including Mario from Paris and Ed from the states, old friends. The next three days were a whirlwind of presentations, thankfully in English (often Indian English, which is yet another language.) Mild disorganization tending to fullout chaos, which also is an Indian mode. Many of the presenters assume the best thing is to discourse, at length, with no note or concern for allotted time or schedules. Eventually, according to Ed, who has a long acquaintance and great love for India, one adapts, but even he said at one point it was pretty intense. Great to see Mario too, and to work together on our other purpose here, which was to set up a research laboratory with several experiments replicating Western approaches. The prospect of adding an Eastern flavor of yoga and meditation in this cultural context is part of the challenge and promise of our mission. We also are all oldtimers, and imagine this is an opportunity to foster some continuity.
As a splendid culmination of the conference, Ed was ensconced in an ornate throne, and presented with an award for his contributions to parapsychology. Major ceremony, with garlands, a shawl, an engraved plate, flowers, and 25,000 Rupees in a beautifully wrapped package of Rs 1000 notes.
The conference blended into a two week workshop, with about 20 students
and young PhDs. We did lectures and demonstrations, and worked on
installation of the hardware and software for several experiments. More
chaos engendered by the arcane politics of academia and power, Indian
style. We first moved into a palace that Ram had given to Andhra
University for a parapsychology institute a couple of decades ago, but
it had suffered disuse, and progressive takeover by administrators.
After a time we moved to the third floor of Ram's house, which is a very
large, modern, and well-kept building (we were pleased -- it is a great place, and in winter quite comfortable; perish the thought of summer here!)
His home is the first floor and on the second floor Ram has his office,
which is palatial, and his collection of beautiful paintings in the
tanjore style (embelished with gold leaf and gemstones), and wonderful carved pieces in fine woods and stone. It is in fact a fabulous museum of Indian art, and the paintings are apparently one of the largest and best collections in Andhra Pradesh if not all of India.
Lots of new friends over the longer time, connecting during the two weeks of shared mealtimes, yoga classes, and the workshop. This turned out to be interesting, and though also chaotic in a general way, productive and useful for the young people. Suneetha will be the mainstay I think. Sharp, and very much interested in making a clone and then expanding on the PEAR work. Soumya and Sonali and Jacksan are also solid, and there are a couple of others I didn't get to know very well. I progressively set them up with a short version of the classical REG experiment, then the Yantra version, and finally Artreg. They will grow into their own and after some experience with the straight replication, they will add yoga and meditation conditions in sound experiments. All this remains hope and imagination, but there is a good feeling and expectation. The young ones have a chance of making it work well, if they have moral support that protects them from incorrect influences from the ancients with their baggage.
On our last evening Suneetha and Soumya invited us out, with Suneetha's
husband Srikrishna (who was also our excellent yoga instructor) and
their kids, and Lynn too. They treated us to the Heritage, a veg
restaurant, really good, and then gave us presents, including a glass enclosed Krishna and Rukhmini (maybe) and sweets, as ever.
The next morning we took a taxi to the airport for our Air Deccan flight
to Hyderabad and the next part of our Indian oddysey, a visit to
Santiniketan and friends -- the families of Sari and Kunal, our friends in Middletown, NJ (whose two kids we think of as our grandchildren.)
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