THE LOVES OF A COOL CAT

                                                         

       Because I am unable to travel, I have added the only nonfiction piece from  my book of short stories:  

                                                        ASPECTS OF LOVE, for my readers' pleasure.

                                                                              Copyright: 2019                                                                                                   

                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      

                                                               THE LOVES OF A COOL CAT

A Short Tail

 

    How or why he landed on my doorstep, I have no idea, but there he was.  His levis so low in the back his crack showed, his tee shirt too short exposing a bit of his hairy chest, and he was wearing a baseball cap sideways.  I would have guessed him about 16 with a petulant look on his face and a reefer hanging out of the side of his mouth.  He had the look of a ladies' man with an ego to match. 

     That is how I would have described him if he were a human teenager, but he wasn't. He was a cat.  A scruffy, skinny, dirty grey cat with a matted coat and a cauliflower ear.  He was no longer a kitten.  However, it was obvious, he had already experienced an exceedingly full life during his ill-spent youth.  Under the circumstances, there was only one thing I could do: feed him. I decided if he was to become a permanent boarder, he must have a name.  Since he considered himself too grandiose to tell me one, I dubbed him Buster.    

    Although occasionally he would let me pat him on the head, he wasn't interested in me. He was a chick magnet, and even in all his dirtiness, the ladies loved him.  I have no idea if it was his petulant demeanor or his rakish look that attracted them, but he rarely lacked a female companion for breakfast. And so, it went. Now, I was always serving two. 

    The first was a grey tiger-striped, who my grandson of age three named Broccoli.  She came with him every morning to share their free food and snuggle a bit before us.  Nothing salacious, but they were affectionate with each other nonetheless.  This relationship went on for almost a year.  Then without as much as a 'how do you do,' Broccoli disappeared. 

    About the same time as Broccoli’s disappearance, I heard the neighbor’s little black indoor cat had escaped the confines of their home and could not be found.   Other than showing up for meals, Buster's presence became scarce.  He was eating a great deal more food but not gaining weight — “Curiouser and curiouser.”  Later the boys across the street announced the birth of five kittens by a little black female that had been hanging out behind their house. Ah! I had my answer.  Love was in the air, and Buster was obviously a great partaker.

      As they grew, Buster again became a more frequent customer to my ‘catateria,’ and with him came the black female whom my now four-year-old grandson had named Carrot (go figure) along with five little kittens.  

     Something had to be done.  I hired the 'mysterious lady' from Animal Control to take them all away.  The parents returned with chips in their ears and reconfigured to create a birth controlled safe area. I assume Animal Control hoped the two of them would contain the rodent population in the neighborhood.  Although I have no doubt they did their job, (occasionally I would find a mouse head on my porch).  Still, they showed up for breakfast every morning. 

    For the first few months after his return, Buster would eat his breakfast, however, he shunned me at every turn.  I assume he considered me the cause of his surgery, and HE WAS PISSED.  But except for a eunuch what man wouldn't be. After all, his operation was more than a vasectomy.  

     Now that he had his sex life curtailed, he suddenly had a bit of free time for personal hygiene.  His coat became clean and tidy, and he was again eating voluminous amounts of food. No sex, his new love seemed to be food.  He appeared to be hungry all the time.

Soon he was pushing himself into the house and heading straight for the kitchen.  The more I fed him, the more he forgave me for the dastardly act I had done to him, and he became my friend. Even occasionally rubbing his nose against mine.  I think it's a sign.  

      Carrot is still around.  They often hang out together on my front porch, but now Buster has four loves instead of one. Whipped Cream, Food, Carrot, food…me? 

MONTSERRAT 

 This year I spent Christmas on the Island of Montserrat.  This was my second holiday visit to the island, and it was lovely as ever.

 Montserrat was nicknamed the Emerald Isle, by Irish settlers, because the island’s coastline resembles that of Ireland.  The first Irishmen arrived from the island of St Kitts in, 1632. I arrived on December 17, 2019. 

Antiqua is the only gateway to Montserrat and American is the only airline with direct flights from South Florida.   As usual American, which is often late, was an hour and a half behind schedule. The delay of my three-hour flight caused me to miss my 20-minute connecting flight on a local puddle-jumper to Montserrat... This left me with two options: stay at, Carter’s a clean but modest guesthouse near the airport but with no eating establishments nearby and fly over the next day, or get a taxi to the docks, hang around for two hours and take the seven-p.m. ferry across the channel between the two islands. 

      Because I had no Antiqua sim card nor access to a local phone to call my daughter in                       Montserrat, I had no way of letting her know my alternative plan.  I surmised that once I    arrived on the Montserrat Ferry, I would find a taxi driver who knew one of my son-in-law’s family members, and take it from there.  After all, there are less than 5000 permanent residences on the island. 

  After a rough, but not unpleasent hour-and-a-half crossing (I understand the sea is always rough between these two islands), I arrived at 8:30 p.m. Customs and immigration is a rather confused event in a small building next to the pier.  Once I secured my luggage, I found a driver, but just as we headed for his taxi, who walks up but my clever daughter.  Upon finding I had missed my flight, and had not checked into Carter’s Guesthouse, she of course knew I had opted for the ferry.  After hello, hugs, and tipping the driver, we were off across the island to their cottage in Woodlands Estate.  

Their charming little house overlooking the sea, had a small main house, a pool (yum) and a pool house which became my own little haven. 

the cottage

The view from the main house

 Promptly every morning no later than 8:30, my six-year grandson would enthusiastically pop in with:

         ‘Hi Nana,’  ‘I’ve got some great games we can play,’ or ‘I have this great video I want         to show you.’  

   As any grandmother will tell you, ‘It was wonderful.’

   But enough of this Holiday stuff.  Like every other loving family, we had a wonderful, joyous Christmas.  Besides enjoying my family, I found the Island itself, one of the most fascinating I have visited in the Caribbean.  

 Montserrat has a history as rich as a streetwalker’s down on her luck.  Because of its inaccessibility, lack of a harbor and the beauty of the island, Montserrat became a quiet haven for well-heeled British, Canadians, and Americans vacationers.  The main town, Plymouth had about 6000 or seven thousand people, with an entire island population of around 12000.  

My Grandson

Taking a walk on a road near the house

 During the 1970s, George Martin, the famous producer of Beatles’ Albums built AIR (recording) Studios Montserrat, where he imported numerous famous roc artists: Paul McCartney, Duran Duran, The Police, Elton John, Jimmy Buffet, The Rolling Stones, Eric Clapton, Carl Perkins Phil Collins and Arrow, a famous Caribbean musician, (to name a few) to record albums without the distractions of city lights, women, drugs; their normal metropolitan environments’ distractions. 

 As Keith Richards was reputed to say, “if you’ve got everybody on a little island with nowhere to go, and you’re actually living almost in the studio…. you get a lot done, quicker.”

Inside AIR Studios after Hurricane

electrics in AIR Studieos after Hurricane

 AIR Studios was equipped with the most advanced recording technology of the time, and more than 67 albums were recorded there.  But in 1989, it all came to an abrupt end when hurricane Hugo Swept over Montserrat and damaged 90% of the island including AIR Studios Montserrat.  Currently, the property is a jungle of vines, debris, 

Outside AIR Studios 

By the AIR Studios pool

Pool view now

fallen roofs and moldy keyboards. If George Martin had any plans to resurrect the house and studio, they were squashed by the Island’s next horrific events. 

         In 1995, the 3000-foot-high dormant Souffriere Hills Volcano decided after 350 years, to again erupt. By the year’s end and into January 1996, it was decided that the whole town of Plymouth had to be evacuated.  Numerous people were removed to Antiqua but most were shipped off to the UK for safety’s sake, and it was a good decision because in 1997 the volcano had a major eruption again and obliterated most of the whole south end of the island in which 19 people lost their lives.  At one point only 1200 people remained on the island.  

Volanco in the distance

  Now, the island has a small harbor at Little Bay, however no main central town. There are small grocery stores, a pharmacy, small hospital, car repairs, tourist and similar facilities scattered throughout the Northwestern part of the island; in Saint Paris Parish, the only one of the three Parishes that was not ruined by the volcano.  Still, the only way to get to this lovely little Island is by prop plane or a ferry service from the neighboring island of Antiqua.  The current population remains just under 5000, with many of the islanders 60 and over.  

 Since July 18^th, 1995, the Montserrat Volcano Observatory, or MVO, has been on the job monitoring the volcano 24/7.  It’s new director, Dr. Graham Ryan, a volcanologist and geo-thermal specialist works with a staff of 15.  Besides Dr. Ryan, there are four other scientists; a volcanic seismologist, a geologist, risk management individual, and a geophysicist.  There are also 10 other staff members who are essential to the running of the Observatory.

Inside MVO

 The Volcano does not disappoint, as it continues to spew a pasty lava and a grey smoke.  Every thirty years, it threatens more aggressive displays of its powers but as yet has not exposed it full power as it did in 1997.  Currently most of the south end of the island is set aside as the ‘Exclusion Zone.’  Although there are tours of Zone V, they are only available when the Observatory staff deems it safe, and one only may enter with a qualified guide.    

  During my last visit, I enjoyed tours of MVO, and also the AIR Studios Montserrat.

 This year, other than enjoying my holiday with my family, the highlight of my trip was a tour of the ‘Exclusion Zone.’   Because he is a close family friend, Dr. Ryan agreed to take me out to the ‘Exclusion Zone’ so I could see the damage the volcano created.  He picked me up at the house at about 10 a.m. and we drove toward the restricted area. 

 “Because the Lava or Magna still ‘floats’ creating new land, the island outside of ST. Peter’s Parish is divided into zones.” He explained.  And as we drove down on the flattest area of the island, we passed signs designating the different zones we were traveling through.  

 Zone B, which is a questionable area, had warning signs which stated ‘danger, if the volcano is ‘bubbling’, one could experience some ash in the air and surroundings, and if it erupted it might be an unsafe zone.’  Although this was the case, someone was in the final stages of rebuilding their damaged house; new roof, paint, a new fuel tank outside the home.  Someone else was just beginning to repair their very damaged home as well.  Then we drove over a gully or locally referred to as a galesh. The sign there warned that because of flooding during times of heavy rains the water would be too deep for cars to pass.  Further on, we were stopped by a steel blue gate and a sign that notified us we had arrived at Zone V.  RESTRICTED AREA NO ONE ALLOWED IN WITHOUT PERMISSION!  

Near the entry gate

 Dr. Ryan pulled out a shortwave radio and contacted MVO (Montserrat Volcano Observatory) requesting permission to enter.  He gave his code name and they alerted him that it was safe.  All the former paved roads are now dirt – overflow of lava, magna - the road along the sea which formerly bordered the Caribbean Sea is now about an 8^th or half acre distance from the water. Besides the new land the lava and ash flow has created, there are also some big boulders created by an invisible ‘silica glue’ in the air sticking together the sandy gravely deposits from the volcano. Some are the same height as the three and four story buildings the Lava flow had previously invaded...  

“About every thirty years the volcano acts up, so the 24/7 monitoring by MVO is essential to keep track of this living part of the earth to protect the local residents.” ‘Dr. Ryan said. “It has been ten years since the last time the Souffriere Hills Volcano has acted up. So, I guess we have 20 years till its next dangerous behavior.”  He continued.    Once inside Zone V, we joined a local tour of about eight guests.  The tour guide explained that the ash from the 1997 eruption piled itself 39ft high, covering the first two stories of 3 and four story buildings.  The Kam Corporation owned warehouses, the largest grocery store and a Hotel.  

Dr. Ryan by the second floor hotel dining room

Kam warehouse top story

  We peered into the windows of hotel restaurant which was on the second floor. The lave or magna had piled so high it covered all of the first floor, and everything in the restaurant up to the window level.  The sizable Arrow Building (owned by the famous Calypso singer – most famous song – HOT, HOT, HOT) which was four stories high, now only the top floor is visible.   All the buildings around the Arrow building are totally covered in Lava and ash. 

calypso singer Arrow who sang HOT HOT HOT

 The guide also told about a great bank robbery that happened just as the volcano began to erupt.  Barclay’s Bank had received a shipment of $800,000 in crisp new bills which were left in its vault when the volcano began. Even in spite of police prodding, a somewhat disturbed man named ‘Neverme’ refused to leave the area during the eruption.  He survived the volcano’s wrath, which was amazing in itself. However, he also told the police that he had seen ghosts in the bank.  But they ignored him.  When it was finally safe to reenter the area, the Barclays Bank executives found to their surprise, that there had been a heist and the money had disappeared.  When they realized the situation, they alerted the police, and it was then that the authorities realized ‘Neverme’ was telling the truth. Many years later, one of the robbers spent a small bit of the money and because the money was numbered, the robbers were finally caught and the rest of the money recovered.

  At the end of the tour, I recall looking up at the white cloud of Hydrogen oxide still creating lava/magna that flows in to the old Plymouth town center, and thinking that we are really just guests of an all-powerful earth mother, existing on this planet at her will.

Soufriere Volcano which spuds ash, and lava daily

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  There are lots of things to do on Montserrat besides visiting the ‘Exclusion Zone.’  One can also get a tour of MVO, experience a helicopter ride over the volcano,  numerous hiking trails, beaches, a carnival festival during St Patrick’s Day, and the Biological Garden. Restaurants and Guesthouses/hotels abound, and the people are lovely.  One of the best internet sites to find out more about what to do in Montserrat is Trip Advisor.  Although I would also check out the old standbys: Lonely Planet, and other off the beaten-track Caribbean travel books for more information about the island – particularly for lodging.  Don’t forget Airbnb.  They might some deals as well.

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An Odd Fact:

 Because there is no rain shadow the rainfall causes Montserrat to be an island of lush green hills. Therefore, there is no need for cisterns or catchments to store water for island use. Although a number Caribbean islands have portable water systems piped into their houses and buildings in their main town, Montserrat is the only Caribbean Island, I know of that has water piped into all the private houses and other public and private buildings. 

Note to readers

      I took a year off from travel but here we go again, and not too soon for me.…….

Summer 2019

St Thomas USV

  As many of you know, I lived in the US Virgin Islands for many years during the 60s. 

After I left, I still considered it my home, and would return almost every year through the 1990s.

      Then, because I began more international travel, St Thomas seemed to get lost in my venues of visits.  It was Europe, Asia and the South Pacific that drew me, and I moved on to 

Eastern Europe, Greece, Egypt, China, India, Southeastern Asia, Australia, and New Zealand.  

   But this July at the invitation of a dear friend, I returned to St Thomas and had a very pleasant visit.  In 2017, St Thomas experienced a major hurricane from which much of the Island has not recovered.  My friend Paul’s condo association had just finished the exterior repairs on his unit and he had to go down to check it out.  Would I like to go?  I jumped at the chance.

      Paul’s condo, which is very high in the Frenchman’s Bay area, had minimal damage next to many properties on the island. Located on the bottom floor of a three-story condo building, it lost its hurricane shutters and broke the floor to ceiling glass windows.  Of course, water flowed in, and so did the rats, which ruined the furniture.  

View from the condo

Kitchen

      But his neighbor Jason did not fare as well.  His condo on the main level, was in direct line of the storm.  He described sitting in the bathroom with his partner, and their dog, wrapped in a mattress.  “The storm broke through the shutters and the glass windows and blew out the front door. Water gushed in everywhere. The wind was clocked at 245 miles an hour. We have sold out, we are moving to Savanah, Georgia.” Unlike Jason’s damage, what I saw left over from the storm seemed minimal. But I was not in all the nooks and crannies of the island; on all the back roads of residential areas. 

View of West End

      As for Paul and me, we spent part of the week, checking out new furnishings, and the interior changes needed, then it we vegged on the beach and behaved like tourists. Paula, who is the son of a dear friend of mine, grew up on the island and really knows his way around.  So, as an excellent tour guide, he drove me around the whole island, West end – Fortuna Bay, the North side, Petersburg, Frenchtown and the East End.            

Frenchtown restaurants and marina

                       

                                                                                   

St Thomas McDonalds

Old Russian Consulate in Frenchtown

     Although the view from Mountain Top was beautiful as ever, the current owner(s) (I understand one of the Armor Bothers??) had changed the building, and it is now a large junk shop. The charming curved venue where one could observe much of this beautiful island is gone.  Years ago, tourists could sit at the bar drink banana daiquiris and view most of the beautiful St Thomas vista.  Ah! The gentile days!  

    The same is true in downtown Charlotte Amalie.  Shops like Riises, Little Switzerland, and Caron’s (a shop owned by the Actress Leslie Caron’s father-now, I think defunct) are now, only jewelry, liquor, and perfume stores.  Many years ago, a traveler found liberty cottons, lovely linens, 

china and silver from all over Europe, waited clocks from Spain, miniature Teddy bears waited, to do summersaults with just a nudge from Switzerland; a multitude of items to feast to the eyes and nudge the pocket book.  Now of course the market is geared to the grab’em and stap’em day trippers from cruise ships.  I am sure they are lovely people but not purchasers of fine European goods, rather lots of cheap liquor, etc.

    Charlotte Amalie has few buildings still boarded up from the hurricane. The location of the old Sebastian’s Restaurant on the waterfront for one.  In addition to the hurricane, Drakes Passage is also closed because of a restaurant fire within the passage. On Government Hill, the Hotel 1829 is boarded up as well. But I was told this was done after the previous hurricane, prior to the one in 2017.  By the by, the tour books claim that the name of Hotel 1829 came from the year before it originally opened, but I have it on the authority of an ‘old St Thomian’ that the name is actually derived from the barometer settings when a storm is eminent.  

Charlotte Amlie main street

  

Where I lived on Black Beard's Hill

A cruise ship in the harbor

  Although I have lamented the changes I found from my old St. Thomas days (and I realize change is always inevitable), the most dis-hearting change was Yacht Haven, the big marina on the edge of town.  It was once a marina for small (from 25 to maybe 80 ft. long) power and sail boats with a long pier with lots of small finger piers reaching out to “T” piers at their ends.  Now, it has a long pier and two very long perpendicular piers.  One running along the shoreline, the other quite far out. These have been built for mega yachts only.   The hotel has been turned into condos and the rest of the buildings are full of international designer’s shops.  

Condos at Yatch Haven

 I remember when very day at 2 o’clock sharp, Francisco Coxcal’s  black standard poodle would rush from his boat at a 

gallop and splash into Yacht Haven Hotel’s pool to the shock of any guests taking a swim.  When ‘Bird’, a young Blue 

Heron, and his little black cat friend, ‘Patrol Cat’, would arrive together on the hotel terrace every night at dinner to cadge 

food from the guests.  Oddly ‘Bird’s’ favorite food was chicken.   When Ellie Stein would get ‘three sheets to the wind’ 

and go sailing in the harbor in her families’ 45 steel hauled sailboat waving to all as she passed (she is probably one of the 

best sailors I have ever known).  

    As my friend, Phoebe King said when I told her about Yacht Haven, “But Bobbie, that was a family community. Kids played on the docks, there were dock parties among the residents. How could they ruin that?  Where did the smaller boats go?”  She asked.  

   “Red Hook, anchored out, where ever they could.”  I answered.

   Besides St. Thomas, we also spent a day vegging in St. John, at Trunk Bay Beach and in the village.  It was as if nothing had ever happened in St. John. It was its old perfect self.  

Trunk Bay Beach

We stopped at the quaint shopping center, Mongoose Junction, and an acquaintance told me, that as soon as it was safe, Michael Blumberg of Bloomberg News hired 1500 electricians and sent them to St. John, while the singer Kenny Chesney helped locals with finances to repair their homes.  Mr. Chesney is quoted as saying, he would not repair his own home until everyone else’s is fixed.  Nice people!

Ferry Boat between St John and St Thomas 

Along the harbor of St John

   

 I understand that the British Virgin Islands are still in great disrepair.  Also, that the magnificent pristine White Beach on the Island of Jost Van Dyke has condos on it.  Baa Hum Bug!

    Back at St. Thomas, we spent many evenings dining at Balongo Bay Beach Club, and having leisurely afternoons swimming in their pool.  By and large my St. Thomas visit was lovely and the company grand. 

Paul and me by the pool at Balongo Bay Resort

The old St Thomas Fort which survivied many hurricanes

Old Bandstand which also has survived many hurricanes

MUMBAI

MUMBAI BY ANY OTHER NAME WOULD BE BOMBAY

 Mumbai, or as most of the locals still call it, Bombay, is a city of massive human density and 

urban sprawl.  On a map, beginning at the airport, its shape reminds me of a bear claw, broadening

out as one gets nearer to the southern waterfront.  Three hundred years ago, the topography, that

makes up the city, consisted of seven islands connected by land reclamations.  The final reclamation

finished in1942 created what is now the southern Fort District of the city.  

Inside the Mumbai Airport

Corridor in the Taj Hotel

The fort business District, named after the British Fort George, is home to Mumbai's major

museums, a Fab India store location, many other local shops, and The Taj Mahal Palace Hotel. The

hotel, which was damaged by the Lashkar-e-Tabia terrorist group from Pakistan with

the help of Pakistani/American, David Headley in November 2008, has now been beautifully

repaired.

Swimming pool at the Taj Hotel

Tea Room at the Taj Hotel

The taxi ride from the airport to the Fort District took about

45 minutes.  About halfway along the

 route, which was rift with heavy traffic, we passed a numerous number of mosques, actuating the

large Muslim community within this city.

Typical Mumbai Mosque

 I stayed at the YWCA International Center -International Guest  House (website: www.ywcaic.info),

which takes both male and female guests.  The cost is between 40 and Sixty dollars a night. This

includes a private room, and bath, lots of hot water, TV, internet, and two meals a day, buffet

breakfast and dinners.  Not flashy but adequate, with lovely help and also delightfully interesting

guests(some of whom come from cold climes and stay the winter season).  Another plus about the

YWCA is its location.  It is within walking distance of almost everything, from the Taj Hotel,

museums, good restaurants, shopping and the post office.  If you get thirsty for Starbucks there are

two nearby as well; one at the back side of the Taj Hotel.

View from my room at the YWCA

And walk you will, for outside of Miami

Beach, Florida, and Napier, New Zealand,

Mumbai has the best collection of Art Deco

buildings you will find anywhere in the world.

These are not like the small

Another view from my room at the YWCA

artful little hotels Miami Beach is known for, nor the charming little shops of Napier, but rather large

stately buildings with Egyptian base relief motifs, Mesopotamia Ziggurat pyramid facades and any

number of other more modern elegant base relief styles. I was overwhelmed by the grander and the

beauty of these architectural pieces of art.

Mumbai Art Deco

Mumbai Art Deco

An example of Mumbai Art Deco 

As for restaurants, I ate lunch twice at the Taj Mahal

Palace Hotel; in the main dining room and the tea

room. I enjoyed the Taj Tea Room the most. where I

was seated with a harbor window view.  Oddly,  the

waiter at first thought I was a Parsi woman and began

by speaking to me in Hindi.   I knew Mumbai has the

largest Parsi population in India.  However, the waiter explained that many Parsi women are

are the most educated of Indian women.  Although in regards to my being Parsi, I think he

was putting me on.  He said with great sincerity, that many are blond and speak remarkably good

English.  The upstairs Tea Room food and service were excellent and the view superb.  I also eat at

the Leopold Cafe, a tourist trap, which is always packed and serves mediocre food.  However, the

Leopold has the distinction of being the one major restaurant that the terrorists also attacked in 2008,

so, of course, I had to try it   I also went to one of my standby Indian favorites for Masala Chi, Coffee

Day, a snack place with good chai.

Sign at the Leopold Cafe that was also bombed in 2008

One of the things I found interesting was that three-wheeled auto rickshaws are banned in the

Fort District, of Mumbai; only taxis, buses and private cars are allowed.  Additionally unlike New

Delhi, I only met one taxi driver who spoke English, and none of the drivers seemed to know their

way around the city.  In Delhi, the capital of India, almost everyone speaks English and the

people, even the laborers seem to be sharp clever people who knew where everything was all across

city.  Whereas in Mumbai, the business and Bollywood capital of the country, among the

people I met - and I was in what was considered one of the most cosmopolitan areas of the

city - very few spoke English, which is the language of the government; i.e. one cannot get a

government job anywhere in India if one doe not speak English.

View of Mumbai Habor

I know in my short time there, I missed some great attractions; the Sanjay Gandhi National Park with

leopards, birds and other wildlife, Elephant Island with caves full of carved sculptures and monkeys

(note: I dislike monkeys), but would enjoy seeing the carvings, and dancing at the National Center for

Performing Arts.


Hopefully, I will be in Mumbai soon again and will be able to report on those other attractions.

Meanwhile, my next posts will be about a holiday visit to Winchester, England, then on to the

Caribbean islands of Montserrat and Guadalupe.

A carriage ride on the habor walk outside the Taj Mahal Hotel

   

    

 

THE RUSE

     CURRENTLY,  I AM UNABLE TO ADD PICTURES WITH MY BLOG POSTS BECAUSE OF SOME SNAFU OR RUSE CAUSED BY BLOGGER.COM! 

UNTIL BLOGGER.COM FIXES THIS ASPECT OF MY BLOG SITE, I WILL ONLY BE ABLE TO PUBLISH THE ARTICES BUT WITH NO WONDERFUL PICTURES.  

I HAVE SENT MESSAGES TO BLOGGER.COM TO NO AVAIL.  

FIX THIS PROBLEM BLOGGER.COM!!!

MEAWHILE I WILL BE PLACING THE STORIES ON BOTH HERE AND MY FACEBOOK PAGE WITH THE PICTURE ON FACEBOOK AT: BOBBIE LAUREN

BHUJ

 

Summer dryness

    I left the Gir National Forest area around 10 AM. After traveling about 40 kilometers on a single lane road, we entered a four-lane divided highway.  I was guaranteed a driver that spoke some English but was not surprised to find that his only language was local Gujarati of this Indian state.  Not only did he not speak English, he could not read it either, and all the road signs were in the English language.  The only communications we had during the whole 11-hour trip was my poking him to get his attention, pointing in this direction or that and saying Bhuj.  The trip was only supposed to take seven hours but because of miscommunications, it took four hours longer.  The road was excellent and well marked, but the landscape throughout the whole of Gujarat was much like that of Gir Forest, parched from lack of rain.

    

Hotel Oasis

It was dark when we arrived at Hotel Oasis. Although it was centrally located, the hotel was disgusting by my standards.  That night I shared my shabby room with peeling paint and at least one cockroach.  Unfortunately, it was too late to change hotels.

   Note: One of the sites I really like for picking a hotel is Trip Advisor, but although contributors are suppose to sign they have no connection to the hotel they are recommending, in both Ahmedabad and in Bhuj there were many recommendations by local residences.  This exactly why I read at least ten reviews before making my hotel choices in both cities and even then, I got it wrong the first time in both cities. 

   

Hotel Price 

Often times when my sleep schedule is upset or the travel has been stressful, I have the physical reaction of a cold or slight respiratory infection, and one had developed by morning.  That next morning, I transferred to the Prince Hotel, rated number one in Bhuj and spent two days resting before I ventured out to again.  The Prince Hotel was rather worn as well, with a bit of peeling paint, yet it was a 100 times nicer than Hotel Oasis.  My room rate included breakfast, but if I had it in my room, I was not only charged a service fee but also for the breakfast. 

Typical Indian dress displayed in the museum.

  

After two days, I ventured out to the local tourist office and the Museum.  Even with directions by the hotel staff to the auto-rickshaw driver, he still could not find his way.  He finally dropped me near my intended location, and I had to wander among adjacent streets from building to building until I found the tourist office.  Once there, I found two young workers who had the requisite skill of all Indian government employees; they could speak English.  Yet they had no knowledge of the area, no brochures, and no maps.  What they did have were government jobs. 

Two students standing in front of a museum applique display. 

   After my Bhuj Tourist Office visit, I wandered back down the street to the local museum.  It was quite interesting with not only the expected historical textile display but also wonderful archeological and local history sections.  Unfortunately, I did not spend as much time as I had wished, as this was school groups day and there were at least 120 elementary through high school kids there who were more fascinated with me than the artifacts they had some distance to see.  Kids are fun, but over 120 all in the same area is a little overwhelming.  There were so many, they were like swarming bees in every section of the museum.  Upon escaping the multitude of youngsters, I hired an auto-rickshaw to return to my hotel and found what I perceived on my way to the tourist office.  Bhuj was one of those typical down-in-the-heel impoverished Indian villages.  But a village that, while maintaining its shabbiness, had expanded because it was surrounded by wonderfully talented artisans whose hand-produced products were found only in this area of India.  

    Upon my return to the hotel, the desk clerk arranged for me to go on a northern tour the next day with a young guide who took me to textile makers, craft makers, and the Kutch. 

A village door

A village house

Another village house

A woman entering a house

This part of Gujarat is called Kutch, a word meaning tortoise in Sanskrit because it is a marshland.  A marshland, which during the monsoon season is covered with rain and the influx of salt water from the Arabian Sea. During the winter dry season, when the water recedes, much of the land is covered with a hard crust of salt, i.e. like a tortoise’s shell, the Kutch. 

One of the artisans' little village near the Kutch.

    

An atist finishing an applique

During the tour, I was taken to see artists in applique and patchwork, and Rogan: a hand painting technique mixing sunflower, linseed or castor oils with vivid colors of various minerals 

(interesting the area is covered in fields of Castor plants).   These malleable thickened pastes are stored in earthen pots to be applied on dyed cotton or silk cloths using either a wooden or metallic stylus in geometric or floral motifs.  

Painting Materals with Rogan paints

Finished Rogan material 

      We also visited a woodworker who made beautiful colorful kitchen cooking utensils and a metal

Hand making wooden utensils.

Beautiful wooden untensils

worker who, using no tools except a little hammer, made a lovely cat wind chime with little bells,

which I bought.

Hand making bells and chimes

Some bells

Then we went to the Kutch.

 Since Mr. Modi, the former Gujarati Governor,

has become Prime Minister of India, the Kutch

has been cleverly developed as a tourist

destination.

A temporary tourist tent village is placed on the

hard salt surface during the dry season and

rented out


to, in my opinion, gullible travelers who stay there for three to five nights, shopping at the pop-up

kiosks for local goods and going on to the vacant salt flats to experience the sundown.  Throughout

the crowd, impromptu musicians play local instruments’ and drums. It is also advertised that evening

entertainment happens within the tent village, but visitors who are not staying in the complex are

stopped at the gate, so I missed that part of the experience.  Since I was not captivated by the idea of

paying 225 US, for three days/two night at what was called the White Ram Resort experience, I

missed out on the inside village activities of Para Motoring, Bungee Trampoline, ATV rides, pool,

board games and Library.

A member of the Indian Military

Waiting for riders

Dancing on the KUTCH

In local dress on the KUTCH

The sun just before fading on the KUTCH

Typical tribal dress

     That evening in the lobby, of my hotel, I met Mr. A.A Wasir, a gracious, elderly gentleman who had what he called The Museum Quality Textiles. The next day upon my visit to Mr. Wasir’s, I was astounded to enter a large room harboring a vast collection of extremely valuable antique Indian textiles, floor to ceiling shelves on either side of the room of beautiful Indian fabrics.  Later, I learned that it was from Mr. Wasir’s collection around which the lovely petit Materials Museum at the HG hotel in Ahmedabad was designed. 

beautiful appliqué

Just one small shelve full of Indian fabrics

of the many, at Mr. Wasir's.

For your camel or family pet

Mr. Wasir holding a lovely handmade piece

handmade belts at Mr. Wasir's

     The next day, I flew from Bruj to Mumbai (Bombay), a city much different than ‘my old stamping ground Delhi’.  But That’s another story. 

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                               PICTURES OF WOMEN AND CHILDREN OF THE KUTCH

 Although school is available to them, most of these children do not attend. After going for a short time, they give it up because they find a school schedule too rigid.  They would rather remain home, play, and show their family goods to any tourists that might arrive.

 Note the different clothing designs from the different village groups. I was told that although these households are very poor, the women have at least eight different outfits.

Rocking the baby in its crib

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