Here be dragons…

“The two most important days in your life are the 

day you are born and the day you find out why.”

- Mark Twain

Dateline: Singapore - October 12, 2014, 9:45PM

It was late...it has been a long day…we were tired. 

We hesitated, because of the lateness of the hour, but decided to go for dinner at Boat Quay (pronounced ‘key’) on the Southwestern edges of Singapore River. 

 This area is lined with outdoor restaurants, serving pretty much any style food one might desire, and since this is Asia, all of it is tasty.  We would need only pick the style of food and settle in at a table along the riverbank to finish the day, relax and enjoy the sights, sounds and smells of this wonderfully exotic place.

We had just gotten out of a taxi on Lor Telok Street, when we heard a roar that sounded like an athletic event.  It got a little quiet and then up it went again. 

“Let’s go see what’s going on, “ Andry said. 

 So, we headed away from the Quay to North Canal, turned right and walked the 400 feet or so to New Bridge Road, where looking both right and left, there were people as far as the eye could see.  One half of the road was blocked off with barriers, behind which there seemed to be hundreds, maybe thousands of men.  As we watched, the men moved from our right to our left stopped…moved and stopped.  It was a curious sight.

Ask and ye shall receive…

“Pardon me sir,” I said to the man in the yellow reflective vest, looking like a parade Marshall.

“What is going on here?”

Just then, a similarly dressed man opened the gate to a very large rectangular shaped corral holding more than 100, ‘ground sitting’ men in traditional loincloths…some wearing tee shirts – others shirtless. 

They instantly jumped to their feet and with a shouting frenzy exploded out of the containment area, running full tilt to the next containment area where they sat down on the ground again.  This sequence repeated itself again and again like pulsing of blood through the circulatory system…each beat moving the life giving liquid further and further down the arterial tree.

“This is the Thimithi festival done every year here in Singapore,” the man said.

Timing is everything…

Thimithi is the annual Fire Walking festival attracting hundreds of thousands of Hindu devotees in a number of countries.  Fire walking has been a tradition with Hindu faithful for over 1,000 years.  It is done in rememberance of a woman named Druapadi, whose honor was saved by Krishna, when she was about to be shamed by a cousin in the famous Sanskrit philosophic Epic and story of the Kurukshetra wars titled: Mahabharata (ref: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thimithi).

In Singapore, it happens in October…this year the 12^th, our late evening dinner night!

 The processions begins begin around 10PM at Sri Srinivasa Perumal Temple on Serangoon Road and ends at Sri Mariamman Temple on South Bridge Road, where the hot coal beds await the focused minds and feet of the faithful!

If one were to walk the route, it would take a little under an hour, but with nearly 10,000 Hindu faithful men preparing to ‘walk the fire’ at the Sri Mariamman Temple, the event takes hours to complete and the primary travel routes are shut to traffic from mid afternoon the day of, through 7AM the following morning.

Not for the faint of heart…

These worshippers were in a heightened state of excitement, and while they obediently sat waiting for the gates to open to make their way toward their final destination where they would ‘walk the fire,’ it seemed clear they were in a ‘different world.’ It is difficult to explain how fearfully impressive this event was…literally controlled mayhem!

To the outsider, and that would be me, there was the sense that if a crowd of 10,000 people began to move and take on a life of its own, whoever or whatever was in the path would simply be overwhelmed and crushed.  I have watched large crowd demonstrations on television, but this…being there…feeling the throb…sensing both safety and danger of the unknown…was a window into the exotic and an experience of a lifetime.

We followed on the sidewalk, beside this pulsating mass of men, for toward the Sri Mariamman Temple, wanting to see them walk the hot coals. We were, however, not the only ones interested.  As we got closer to the Temple the sidewalk became more and more congested, so that by the time we got near the Temple doors we were literally stuck in a crushing mass of people, packed so close together it was almost impossible to move.

Andry and I both sensed we should probably not stay there, so pushing and shoving a little; we made our away back against the press of people trying to get into the event.  Within minutes we were gratefully free of the crushing mass of people. 

Dinner on the Quay…

We made our way back the eight blocks or so along South Bridge Road until we got to South Canal and to a restaurant along at Boat Quay, where we shared a large rectangular pan of spicy soup, Chinese noodles and a wonderfully cooked whole fish. 

As we sat along the bank of the river and quietly chatted, looking across toward the brightly lighted harbor, we were energized by the sense of wonder and a little danger from the adventure.  

The tiredness we felt earlier in the evening had evaporated from an unexpected event we had just witnessed, and we were both grateful we had not been to tired to eat…the evening’s meal – food and unexpected undertaking – satisfying our stomach’s and minds…

- ted

Florence Nightingale of the East...

“Healing is a matter of time, but it is

also a matter of opportunity.”

- Hippocrates

“Excuse me sir, may I help you?”

I was distracted and out of sorts when the woman asked the question, and to be honest it was a little irritating.

I looked around to see who was speaking; it was the restaurant manager. 

I had noticed her the day before when I had gotten breakfast at the hotel.  She stood out, not only because she was dressed more formally than the rest of the waiter staff, but she had that officious, no nonsense look about her – you know, “It is my job to make sure EVERYTHING is working correctly.”  Little doubt she was the boss.

My second thought was, “Did I so something wrong?”

She continued. “You don’t look well.  Why don’t you go and have a seat and I will be right there.”

I had arrived in the City after nearly 30 plus hours of travel, from bed sheets ‘out’ at home to bed sheets ‘in’ at the hotel.  When I got in Sunday night, it was a quick unpack and into bed.  Bed!  Yes sir, it is amazing how things get pretty simple when you are tired or sick.  Tired I was…unbeknownst to me; sickness would arrive at my doorstep with a vengeance within the next 48 hours.

Monday morning was lovely and I took a long walk in the humid heat of this wonderful place a little more than 80 miles (120km) north of the Equator.  In Tucson the temperature had hovered around 107degrees (41.6C) during the summer, you know “…a dry heat,” as if low humidity somehow makes high temperatures more bearable – they don’t for me! 

Singapore temperatures on the other hand were in the 90s, but you know“…a wet heat.”  The dampness in the air makes one feel as though they are wearing an extra layer of skin…the non-breathable kind…it is a ‘close’ feeling. Having said that, the ambiance and smell of this exotic place had a sense of familiarity and I felt quite comfortable on my morning outing.

Dinner Monday evening was with the preconference chairman and a delightful female orthopedic surgeon from Stanford.  We had a wonderful multicourse dinner at the Raffles Hotel, named for Stamford Raffles, founder of modern day Singapore in 1819, never mind it had been a trading port for centuries.  Nonetheless, a great evening’s welcome.  Day one – nicely done!

A brewing storm…

Tuesday morning I had a great Asian breakfast of Congee (a sort of rice based porridge), fresh fruits, bread, sliced cheese and thinly sliced ham.  The day was looking good.

The pre-conference course began at 7AM sharp in the National University Health System conference facility.  Much to my delight, there were snacks available.  To be polite, and simply because I really like Asian food, I nibbled a little before the morning session began. 

It was a long day of excellent presentations, ending at 7PM.  I was tired, but man I had enjoyed lunch and grazing off and on over the day. I wasn’t to speak until the next day, so the give and take of the day was stimulating…stimulating for the first six or seven hours, but by 7PM, I was pretty tired and began not feeling well – had to be jetlag.

At the close of the day, busses were waiting to take us to dinner, and within 20 minutes we were in a ‘hip,’ open Asian restaurant that overlooked Singapore Harbor.  I, on the other hand, was NOT feeling hip or anything else akin to a sense of pleasure.  I wasn’t hungry, and had this growing feeling it would be really good if I were to lie down somewhere.

Dr. Liu, the conference chair seemed to sense that my ‘ship of health and wellbeing’ was listing uncertainly and suggested he take me back to the hotel.  I must have looked even worse than I felt – if that were possible – for he stopped at a small convenience store to buy some medicine to calm my growing sense of abdominal distress.

You know what they say – “Timing is everything…” Well, I wasn’t in my room five minutes before it seemed like all I had put in me for the entire day, found a way to emerge from every port of bodily departure.  I am uncertain this is what my health conscious friends mean by whole body cleansing!!

It was a long, rest-less and ‘hydrate as much as possible,’ night.

By 6:00 the next morning, it was all I could do to get to breakfast.  My thought was just get something soft and bland into my tummy.

The interruption…

“Excuse me sir, may I help you?”… She continued. “You don’t look well.  Why don’t you go and have a seat and I will be right there.”

In fact, she physically led me to a seat and asked me what was wrong.  “I think I got some food poisoning,” I answered.

“What are you going to eat?” She asked.

“A little cereal and milk,” I replied.

“No, you are not.” She said.  “Milk is the last thing you need for your stomach. It will make you worse.”

It was clear, I was in no condition to do anything other than nod in assent.

She continued, as though she were talking to a young child, “I will get you some Congee, and make you a pot of ginger and lemon root tea.” 

 “In my culture,” she said, “we know this will help your stomach.” and off she went.

The balm in Gilead…

A few minutes later she returned with a large pot of steaming hot tea.  I opened the top, looked in and saw long slivers of freshly cut ginger and lemon root soaking in recently boiling water – it was the strongest ginger flavor I have ever tasted.  I got the Congee and spent the next 30 minutes nibbling and sipping tea.  In fact, my stomach felt its first calm since the ‘event’ the night before!

When ‘Florence Nightingale’ returned, she introduced herself as Lien Tran, manager of the restaurant.  The woman, who had appeared to be so efficient, somewhat distant and commanding, evaporated before my eyes, into a warm, caring, compassionate human being seeing another of her species in distress, and simply taking action.

I am certain there were a lot of things she needed to take care of as the day began for she and her staff, but in the moments we spent together, you would never have known it.  She gave of herself, her culture, her life experience and her spirit, providing me with both physical and moral sustenance.

I spent the day in bed and returned to the restaurant around 8PM knowing I had to get something inside me.  While not on the menu, I ordered some hot chicken broth with chicken pieces and chamomile tea. 

As I worked to get the food down, I heard a voice call my name.  I turned to see Lien Tran.  She had, by now been at work for 14 hours.  She looked a little tired, but came and chatted with me for a few more minutes, both of us leaving one another feeling a little better for the chicken soup for the body and chicken soup for the soul.

As so often happens to me, I will probably never see this person again…this compassionate creature that could easily have passed me by on her way to do the things in front of her for the day, BUT she did not.  She was the Samaritan who followed her leading and ministered to another creature in need…

Isn't that the task for which all of us are called?  

- ted

Memory - a gift...

“If you tell the truth, you don’t

have to remember anything.”

– Mark Twain

It takes a fair amount of time to get to this place.  I’ve come to speak at a professional meeting, one for which I have been preparing for a while.  None of that is on my mind at the moment, however, none of it… 

I am thinking of my late friend Cheong Wing Lee.

Another day…

I got in the evening before the flight.  This had been planned for several months, but it was hard to believe the day had actually arrived.

I left Missouri early in the day and connected through Chicago.  I had probably worn my clinic staff out with a stream of chatter about the upcoming trip.  When the date arrived and I was out of their hair, I suspect there was some mild delight at my absence. 

Vancouver is one of the most visually pleasing airports I know, in what I consider the most beautiful city in North America.  When international flights arrive, passengers are funneled past lovely ‘Canada centric’ displays of the British Columbia outdoors.  These ‘eye catchers’ almost make the weary traveler perk up a bit, in appreciation, as they head toward Customs.

Incoming voyagers come down a multiple escalator/staircase into the large custom hall, behind which is a broad waterfall bringing both a refreshing feel as well as the welcoming sound of water rippling down the wall…a nice touch.

Wing picked me up for the first of what would be more than a dozen visits over the coming years.  That would be in the future, but the ‘now’ of that moment, was the most unreal, dare I say surreal of trips.

We were going to China and Singapore – exotic places I had only dreamed about – and I could NOT believe it was really happening.  The next morning it would be a China Air flight, first to Taiwan and then an Asian circuit of Singapore and China.

My friend…

Cheong WingLee had captured my heart a year or two earlier during some business encounters.  We became friends. In our time together he showed me the mysterious East and did so with an enthusiasm I would learn to appreciate was one of his consistently endearing characteristics.  Seeing countries with people who have lived in them and know them is much different than taking a tour of a foreign land.  Wing was the best.

On that trip, I learned many things, but it was even before we landed in Taipei that I got my first lesson.  On the flight, sometime before landing, we were served hot breakfasts.  There was a choice between Eastern and Western style meals.  On the Asian menu was something called Congee and I think it was sausage and egg as the alternative. 

“Congee,” now that sounded worth a try, I mean, why not.  I was pretty sure I could handle this…this foreign foodstuff.  It turned out to be a kind of not too thick rice porridge.  It came on a tray with a hardboiled egg sliced in half, a little meat, some cut onion and small chopped vegetables.  Hmmm.

The only thing I actually recognized was the sliced egg.  I thought it would be a good place to start with something I knew and popped one of the halves in my mouth.  I am uncertain how best to describe the next milliseconds, but I felt like I had just inserted a tablespoon of salt!  It was, in fact, a ‘salt egg’ that had been soaked in brine and was supposed to be broken into small pieces; put into the Congee and eaten a spoonful at a time.  

Congee would become one of my favorite Asian foods, but that morning, on that flight, my ignorance was on full display, much to the amusement and entertainment of Wing – lesson learned.  One of his methods of teaching, during those travels, was to let me make small and some not so small mistakes…in his mind, the best way to learn.

Back to the now…

The second leg of the flight – Tucson to Los Angeles the first – was 14 hours from LA to Hong Kong, where I transferred for the final three and a half hours to Singapore.  I got to the hotel – bed sheets up (in the morning) to bed sheets down (at the hotel) – after nearly 30 hours.

I am certain the week here will be interesting.  While I am always a little nervous when I’m going to speak somewhere, I am certain it will go well.

BUT on the last leg of the flight…as I landed and felt the warm humid air of this island city-state…as I headed to the hotel…as I tucked in to bed and when I awoke this morning, the one thing on mind was my friend Wing Lee Cheong and I was grateful.

I was grateful for this generous and brilliant man…I was grateful for the moments of his life he chose to share with me…I was grateful we have been given minds with which we can remember…remember those souls who have so generously touched our lives…he was surely one…

- ted