Mysore, Karnataka

So we bit the bullet and did what we hadn't wanted to do yesterday and went on a minibus tour of Ooty. All the other tourists with us were rich North Indian couples and no-one spoke to each other. I'm glad we went, because we got to see a lot of things we'd have missed, like the tea plantations¹ and some spectacular 5,000ft sheer-drop views.

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There is a group here from ACTS Ministries in Bangalore who are doing services at St Stephens in the evenings. Last night the founder, Ken Gnanakan preached. His speech was incredible, about witnessing for Christ and how we should be doing it.

ACTS is a society that trains people and believes in action as well as preaching. I always felt uncomfortable with the idea of 'witnessing', afraid of talking about Jesus to people who don't want to know. but Dr Ken talked about it as witnessing about love. We love because of Jesus' and God's love. He was also very environmental, talking about how we (meaning Indian people) need to do something about it. You know the problems - sewers, litter, shrinking forests...

So I bought his book / testimony in the hope that it'll help me.² Uncle Frank got C. and myself to have dinner at Shinkow's (the Chinese restaurant) with them. Due to various shifting around of seats I found myself sitting next to Dr Ken.

I was sorely disappointed in his lack of interest in us and our attempts at conversation were feeble. I was confused. Did he think he was too good for us? Did we bore him? Why didn't he care? But then I remembered that his sister is very ill (cancer) and his mind must be elsewhere. I comforted myself with this thought³ as uncle Frank talked away, as if to a wall. I know how you feel, I lost my sister too, but when I lost my mother... She's not dead! We saw her yesterday! Consoling sort of chap.

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We got the bus down [to Mysore] this morning, through the wildlife sanctuaries, so like Africa and it's national Parks. Karnataka is totally different again, it's drier and there are less palm trees. When we arrived, we spent an hour trying to find the person who Uncle Frank said could help us.

We eventually discovered⁴ that he'd gone to Bangalore and were offered a room in the CSI church's guest house, which was very nice, but for a couple of small problems.

For one, there were no guests and it didn't look as if there ever had been, or ever will be. I didn't fancy staying in a ghost house no matter how quaint or wooden it is.

Secondly, it was 5km out of town! We only had four hours to see Mysore, it wasn't worth it. So we've ended up in a much more sensible and hospitable location via the medium of stopping an auto and asking for a hotel.

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Mysore is wonderful. The city is (a bit) like London around Buckingham palace. In the area around the main attraction - the Maharaja's palace that is. All big grand wide roads lined with flowers and trees. Built in 1897 - 1912, the palace is a real work of art. A monument to the India of the myths, Arabian Nights, everything romantic of The East. It was like a dream, going round inside and I don't feel that any of it was real. The splendour has to be seen to be believed and you have to go there, because they don't allow cameras inside (selfish if you ask me...).

The cathedral is beautiful as well, but it's a Roman Catholic one, which taints it a bit.⁵ Indians must love Catholicism because it is almost another, smaller version of Hinduism. They (the Catholics) have statues of the Saints, Mary and Jesus which they worship. This evening they were praying to / worshipping the stations of the cross, each one represented by a large, hideous statue - the idolatry is terrible. I am prepared to accept Islam, Sikhism and others because they worship God. But Hindus worship stories, characters from folk tales and blocks of stone. It would be like us worshipping King Arthur or Robin Hood. Some of the theology is sensible⁶ - the spiritual part - but the majority worship trees etc just for being trees.⁷ Doesn't work for me, I'm afraid.