Guest Post: Sharyn in India

Red Fort, Delhi - Joanne Orion Miller 2013

Traveling solo is more common than one would suspect. My dear friend Sharyn Trevillyan has been doing it for years, and is something of an expert on getting around. After university she dreamed of seeing places that were very different from her native England; she wanted to experience cultures that remained unaltered for centuries, but would likely undergo radical change due to the increasing pace of the world.

Sharyn saved up money for travel for seven years; her first solo trip circumnavigated the globe in 1990; her first flight was to Delhi, with a return ticket from Sydney. Here are excerpts from her diary, including a glimpse of India of 25 years ago:

“Until today I’d only seen pictures of India and knew little of this country of a billion people. I knew no one. As I exited the plane in New Delhi at five in the morning, I was met with a sea of faces; the taxi drivers engulfed me like a wave. They jostled for position but none wanted to take me to the hotel I booked. Some claimed it had closed, and offered me their cousin's hotel instead. This was the first of many games I would need to play as a lone female traveler. I picked the frailest man and told him he would get my fare if he took me to my chosen hotel. As he led me through the throng, he wore a look of pride. Victory for both of us! An hour later, after stowing my bags in the hotel, I walked through Connaught Square; an elephant with a painted face passed me, his handler atop his back. This is why I travel.

That night I slept as only one can after fifteen hours on a plane, leapfrogging over several time zones. The cacophony of sounds outside the window stirred me from my jetlagged slumber. It was the middle of the day and the people of New Delhi were ardently going about their business. In a nation where a majority of people are considered by western classifications to be underemployed, they seemed awfully busy.

Delhi street scene - Joanne Orion Miller 2013

Two weeks later, I spent time at the River Ganges, a sacred place for Hindus. It is their tradition to burn their dead and scatter the ashes in these holy waters. As most people are too poor to buy enough wood to burn an entire body, many are dropped into the water with little more than scorch marks. I was appalled, but then I heard the story of how widows were once expected to throw themselves on the pyre with their deceased husbands. Given the widow would have no means of support, this was a practical maneuver rather than a display of undying love. I was grateful that this tradition is changing and I’m spared the smell of live flesh.

I thought of how different my life is and the opportunities I have in comparison to those in India.  Most are not in charge of their future and are compelled by society’s rule to marry whom their parent deems appropriate governed by the strict cast system.

A week later I sat with my glass of chai tea in a Darjeeling cafe. The street outside appears unchanged since the last century; women in beautiful saris clutch baskets with their tiny boneless hands, dogs roam mindlessly. I had associated India with the peace and tranquility of yoga and meditation, yet when I arrived I was overwhelmed by the noise, bustle and sheer volume of people.

At first I thought the country needed a good sweep but India has cured me of my superior attitude. Now I can embrace it for what it is, not what I want it to be.

I stare at the tall glass--a beautiful tumbler with silver wrapped around it to form a handle. Something so delicate may seem at odds with the dusty surroundings and the lack of what I consider to be the basic necessities of life, but now I know better. The Indians take time for their ceremonies, for family, for tradition; tea drinking is one of the most important pastimes: It brings people together--the entire family can participate--and encourages conversation. It was right that something so beautiful, yet so fragile, would be here.

I took a sip of the milky liquid and felt the spices on my tongue, soothing yet with a hint of fire. That summed up my time in India.

Delhi market - Joanne Orion Miller 2013

Richmond 2 – A Hidden Park, A Lighthouse, An Island

On my second day in Richmond, I returned to some of my old “secret places”—the haunts every travel writer has but usually doesn’t write about, either to keep the space from being overrun or the knowledge that it just wouldn’t be that interesting to visitors. I haven’t been there in years, and I was pleased to see a positive transformation.

The last western access to the east bay before the Richmond Bridge is Stenmark (aka Western) Drive, leading out to Point Molate (which I always used to call Moh-Laht, but it’s Moh-Lahtteh, according to our guide Craig). This area always fascinated me because of the seeming remoteness of this piece of land on the opposite side of the hill from the big bad Chevron refinery, and the almost complete freedom from fog that washes over the bay from the golden gate. 

What was once a fenced-off area is now a pleasant little park with a beach (no swimming, alas), picnic tables and barbecue stands—the big draw here, beside the peaceful surroundings, is the spectacular view of the bay, Marin, Mt. Tamalpais and the Richmond Bridge.

Farther down the road, there’s an enormous brick warehouse with crenulated castle-like turrets: Winehaven, once a storage and shipping facility for most of the wine produced in central California since before the last century. Rumor has it that barrels of wine were swum out to waiting ships in the bay, towed by children who worked in the winery. Across the road are homes for workers and navy personnel (the area was once controlled by the US Navy) that have gone unused for decades. The county is trying to figure out what to do with the property.

A boat home in San Pablo Bay

Years ago, the rough and narrow road over the top of the hill was my path to a houseboat community that had created a magical garden. The garden was a little wonder, made from flotsam and jetsam that had washed up there, succulents and flowers. The houseboats remain, though the lovely garden is no more. In its place is a small launch that takes visitors to an even greater garden: the East Brother Light Station B&B. The East Brother Light, a California and National Historic Landmark built in 1873, sits atop an island in the strait that separates San Francisco Bay and San Pablo Bay. 

The innkeeper’s “cottage” is a multilevel Victorian with five rooms available for overnight stays, all meals provided. This is the ultimate relaxing get-away: no phone, no TV, no Internet, just the calls of gulls and gentle lull of water lapping at the edge of the island…. and the teeth-rattling foghorn, which can be heard on request (Richard, seen in the video, shares innkeeper duties along with his wife Jude):

(To see a better quality version of this video, go to my vimeo page)

This is a beautiful, nearly untouched part of the bay most people don’t know about. Development here is inevitable. Go before it disappears.

Richmond—a Dazzling Discovery for History

View from Ford Point

I’m always willing to explore a destination, even one with as unsavory a reputation as Richmond, California. The place has been represented as the poster child for deteriorating neighborhoods, crime—sort of the worst of Oakland, air-lifted and plunked down a little farther north. Things are definitely changing.

The Convention and Visitor’s Bureau and Richmond Main Street Initiative are fighting back, and they mean business. There’s nothing like money to revitalize an area, but it means nothing if no one cares. I met more dedicated, sincere, hopeful people in the two days I spent in Richmond than I’ve seen in a long time. Most of the development is taking place in the northwest end of the city, near the artsy enclave of historic Point Richmond (a former railroad town developed in the 1890s), and around nearby Ford Point and Marina Bay.

Miller/Knox Park, Point Richmond

Point Richmond has been a cool spot for decades, and home prices there reflect it. Summer brings a compact farmer’s market with live music, and three of my favorite hang-outs, Hotel Mac (happy hour and food), the Up & Under (great pub food), and the Baltic (fun bar and great music) are open year round.

Photo courtesy of SS Red Oak Victory

The real prize in the area for historians, cyclists and strollers is the Ferry Point Loop & Shipyard 3 Trail in Point Richmond (about 5 miles) that passes the Miller/Knox Regional Shoreline, the S.S. Red Oak Victory (a WWII ship open for tours—and movies!--built in the shipyard), and the Marina Bay Trail near Ford Point (roughly 4.5 miles), that circles Marina Bay, following the coastline to the Central Ave. trailhead; the trail is marked by a WWII National Historical Park including Rosie the Riveter Museum (displays and excellent historical documentaries). The trails are connected by a series of city streets: Canal Boulevard, W. Cutting Blvd., Hoffman Blvd and Harbour Way South (about 2.5 miles). I didn’t think much about WWII—it seemed the distant past, though I knew my father served on a railroad battalion in France. The Rosie Museum’s films and exhibits helped that part of my history come to life. And a good cup of strong coffee from nearby assemble restaurant, sipped while watching sailboats on the bay made for a lovely day.

Mom, my brother, dad in uniform

Of course, it helps if your introduction to the city is a reception catered by assemble, with an evening’s worth of fine wines poured by the Rhone Rangers, held in the East Bay Center for the Performing Arts. The Rhone Rangers are a national affiliate group who grow and produce wines from grapes originally grown in the Rhone region of France. The work of two excellent vintners I sampled have tasting rooms in unusual places: Rosenblum Cellars in Alameda, and Bonny Doon in the scenic little enclave of Davenport, on Rte. 1 north of Santa Cruz. The East Bay Center, led by artistic director Jordan Simmons with dozens of classes in music, acting and other disciplines, would make a believer out of anyone—it’s that inspirational.

Photo courtesy of East Bay Center for the Performing Arts

NEXT: RICHMOND 2: A SECRET ROAD AND THE COOLEST B&B--IN A LIGHTHOUSE! ON AN ISLAND! FOGHORN INCLUDED...

Mind Travels 2 - Courtroom Sketches

During the courtroom drama over the last couple of months,  I made sketches of some of the players. Initially, it helped me remember who was who--then I became fascinated by the parade of personalities that took the stand or were involved in the trial some way. The judge, court deputy, some of the attorneys, a few witnesses and more are in the mix below. The original sketches have been destroyed as part of my obligation as a juror. The players below are not individually identified to protect their privacy:

 

 

 

 

Mind Travels - But is it Justice?

Many of you know my travels were interrupted between January 6  and the first week of March this year as I was selected to serve on a Federal jury. The criminal case involved three defendants (two humans and a corporation) and 22 counts involving international espionage, conspiracy, sale of trade secrets, income tax fraud and bankruptcy fraud. We’re talking China and TiO2 by chlorination process. TiO2 may mean nothing to you, but to the owners of the trade secrets in question, it’s worth billions. TiO2 (titanium dioxide) is a fine powder that’s an ingredient in everything white, including paint, porcelain, paper, and yes, the fillings in Oreo cookies and Twinkies and your teeth. 

There are five companies in the world who use this process, and one of them is E.I. DuPont, the U.S.’s major by-chlorination manufacturer, and one of the biggest honchos in the game. Much of this process is public knowledge—however, a few measurements within the plant build are closely guarded secrets.

Every day, 16 of us picked at random from more than 90 “candidates” listened to testimony by the FBI, IRS, and various experts and involved parties while examining about a third of nearly 3000 documents, pictures and engineering charts in evidence. I nodded off periodically, as did everyone, including the attorneys—sounds terrible, doesn’t it? At times I wondered if they were doing it on purpose. I learned a lot about the US judicial system.

After 16 weeks of testimony, I was informed I was first alternate—so I didn’t even get the chance to join deliberations. We all took notes during the trial, but our books were shredded at the end. The remaining 12 jurors were a motley group, among them a phone company employee, truck driver, a coach, a bus driver, a computer engineer, a librarian—smart, dedicated people, though no one had ever owned a business, worked in chemical engineering, or did sales presentations for a living. In other words, most of us were not remotely "peers" of the defendants.

In a trial, the only information a juror hears is what’s presented—so the strength of the case rests on the ability to pick and choose what to present, and cleverness in countering what the other side has presented—we’ve learned all this from TV. A lot of evidence is suppressed before the jury sits down (and sometimes during the trial). In real life, the government attorneys were eager, earnest, and massively outgunned by the defense attorneys, who were sharp and well-fortified with cash. The expert witnesses called by the prosecution (that’s the government, of course) limped along, second-rate picks by any yardstick. The defense dazzled with top echelon star witnesses (who were paid between $100K and $250K for their time). In my next life…

This case would never have come to trial, I believe, if DuPont hadn’t tried to set up a TiO2 plant in China and failed (supposedly because DuPont wanted to control the money and/or wanted to dump waste. Those reasons don’t make sense; if China wanted the trade secrets that went along with the manufacture of TiO2, they could have easily stolen them after the plant was built, then built their own plant without much danger of recrimination—something else was going on here). Mandarin-speaking defendant #1 and his company won the contract instead, claiming that he could duplicate the famous DuPont process, as he was consulting with former DuPont employees (defendant #2) without the theft of trade secrets—there was another former DuPont consultant, though the jury was told he died before the trial. Only after the trial did we learn he committed suicide.

Reminiscent of a two-year-old stomping his foot and shouting, "If I can't have it, nobody can", DuPont presented the FBI with an anonymous note (?!) claiming defendant #1 and a Chevron employee who had worked as a minor consultant for him were stealing trade secrets. The Chevron employee and his wife (close friends of defendant #1's family) lost their jobs and home, but they stayed out of prison—I suspect because he turned state’s evidence against defendant #1--could he have written the "anonymous" note? Either way, the FBI does force people to turn on their friends to save their own skins. In fact, if defendant #2 had turned, he probably wouldn’t be on trial. I honestly believe he thought he did nothing wrong.

Long story short, the jury convicted both defendants on all counts. If I were there, I would have fought to clear defendant #2 of conspiracy at least—I believe he was brought on board strictly for the dog-and-pony show to get the sale in China, a common business sales practice. I’ve used it myself. 

After learning of the suicide of the other consultant, I am even more convinced that defendant #2 wasn’t the one who brought in the incriminating charts and documents. He got painted by the same broad brush as defendant #1, who, yes, was guilty of income tax evasion and bankruptcy fraud to the tune of more than eight million bucks.

Justice is a relative term, and I’m not at all sure it was done in this case. Two families were destroyed, right or wrong. One thing I do know—don’t get on the sticky side of a major US corporation or the FBI. The former is making pillow talk with the latter, and the latter is full of eager, earnest, righteous people who can’t wait to make your life a misery, justified or not.

1Woman1World..2 Years!

Sunset from my driveway, February 2013

I've traveled around the world, and loved (nearly) every minute of it--and I'm happy to be home. I'm lucky enough to live in a fantastic place, the San Francisco Bay Area. I've lived here most of my life (thanks to my folks choosing this area to settle in when I was small), and have enjoyed a lot of local attractions. In addition, as a member of Bay Area Travel Writers (a professional group), I'm often invited to destinations and events that are off the radar of many locals and visitors--so I'm going to continue to review and share as many of these great activities and places with you in the coming year as I can--and who knows, I might throw in an exotic destination too, since I'm a gypsy at heart.