Monthly Archives: March 2009

I realize I have only just delivered Bulletin #5, but that’s because it was stuck in my laptop until I was able to find a WiFi connection, actually let’s  be honest…until I got back to where there was electricity!!…. through which to transmit it.  Between the time I wrote it and finally was able to send it, we visited northeast India and got to Calcutta.  So now it’s time to catch you up with those experiences.

Our time in the northeast was one of the much-anticipated forays of our trip, and it didn’t disappoint.  A short flight from Bagdogra/Shiliguri (south of Darjeeling) to Guwahati (capital of Assam), brought us to  James Perry, our guide for our venture into Nagaland.  James, a 40-ish Canadian born in Shillong (capital of the state of Maghalaya, just south of Assam), has been travelling into the far eastern edge of Nagaland for many years now, and was a wonderful companion for our trip, even if his driving skills had us cringing and wincing, and his old jeep left both of us with shortened spinal columns.

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What a difference one letter can make:  I was standing at one of the typical cookies, sweets, soda and juice stalls in a small village somewhere in the center of India.  As in all such villages we passed, white faces were seldom seen, so I attracted quite a bit of friendly attention. An oldish gentleman wandered over to me.  I could tell from his expression of concentration that he was digging out the few English words he knew, in order to speak to me.  As I always did when we walked around in villages, I turned to him with a smile and said hello.  At this, his face lit up and he asked “Where from?”  To which I replied, “America.”  Well, his smile broadened to enable me to count all the teeth remaining in his mouth, crinkling his face into a myriad of wrinkles, his eyes disappearing into slits of delight.  Oh, he was happy.  He rocked back on his heels, clasped his hands together, thought hard and then came out with one word of huge significance.  Looking at me with great joy, he slowly enunciated “Osama” and then chuckled with glee.  He was consumed with pleasure that he’d been able to say this to me. I, of course, was a little taken aback.  But I was only stunned for the briefest moment.  I waggled my head with shared pleasure and, smiling broadly, queried, “Obama??”  “Oh, yes, yes, yes, yes, yes,” he replied and began to cackle joyfully.  “Obama!!”  We nodded happily at each other for a minute, repeating “Obama” and smiling warmly.  And then he wandered off.

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