Shanti Niketan

On my second day in Durgapur the bishop arranged for me and another guest (Emma, from the UK) to visit a famous school in the area: Shanti Niketan (Peaceful Abode). This is the home of the great Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore. His poetry is absolutely beautiful. I found it strangely reminiscent of the prayers of St. Anselm. They are very moving. I have to say, I love Tagore's vision; he was a lover of gardens and a proponent of outdoor education. I can't think of anything I'd rather than class under a Banyan tree. A mandatory day off when it is raining wouldn't be such a bad deal on Vancouver Island either.

Voyage to India

After about 50 hours of traveling (with a little 8 hour rest in there), I arrived in Durgapur, about 3 hours drive northwest from Kolkata on the Grand Trunk Rd. Early in the 1900s Durgapur was developed as a planned steel town. Interestingly, the city suffered a lot after India's independence from the British Empire, as the citizens of West Bengal voted in a Marxist government, which favoured strong labour unions. Consequently, a lot of industrial production shifted from Bengal to other Indian provinces ... with cheaper labour. 

As an interesting side note, Bengal's Marxist party -- which was the longest standing democratically elected communist government in the world -- was ousted in a landslide election just five days prior to my arrival. There's an interesting anticipatory air to the place at the moment. 

For my stay I am based out of St. Michael's Church Compound in Durgapur. It's kind of a cross between a school, the synod office, and a monastery. Those of you who know me, it is not a far cry from the dream I have for the Church back home in BC. There are a lot of interesting people here, although quite a few are not that fluent in English. Consequently, I am picking up bits and pieces of Bangla (the Bengali language). I've been keeping my eyes peeled for a good bookstore because I could use a decent Bangla grammar and a dictionary. Though, I probably won't need it for my farming and dining vocab. Isn't it funny how incentives can push one to learn a language. 

LA Blanc Portraits

We had two portraits taken at LA Blanc, the photography studio in Barkerville. They have lots of great costumes, in case you can't tell.

My family ...

The Gulag Crew: a team with diverse skills.

Austin Spry in Barkerville and Wells.

Here's just a few photos of me around Barkerville and Wells ...

I'm not so sure what I am so enthusiastic about. We hadn't even finished unpacking at this point. I remember ... my appendix and I were just joking around a bit. I am so joyful right here because it was before I knew they were going to take it away from me forever.

Mysterious Strangers: Jojo, Renée, Nan, and I all get ready to go to the Fireman's Masquerade Ball. It's the very end of the summer, if you can't tell by Jo and my Yeti-ish countenancii. (Plural of 'countenance'? Anyone?)

... before the Fireman's Ball

Dinner at the Lung Duck

Mmmm! The Lung Duck Tong! Barkerville has GREAT Chinese food.

This was a thank you dinner for singing in the choir for the Autumn Moon Festival.

I love these next to photographs for two reasons:

1) It sure looks like I am praying pretty hard;

2) I'm actually doing my laundry with a scrubbing board in the tub. Seriously. There was no publicly available landry in Wells or Barkerville (try an hours drive to Quesnel).





This was at the Ugly Bug Ball (I'm still trying to figure it out.)



YaTA!

 Here's a shot of everyone that lived in our section of the Wells Apartments (L to R: Jimmy, Austin, Jo, Renée, James). Good people.



... in St. Saviour's Anglican Church

St. Saviour's is such a lovely church! The Rev'd Reynard put a lot of effort into getting this church built, and no one helped him. He cut deep into his family's living allowance to pay two professional carpenters to get it finished. He wanted a little English cathedral, and that's what he got. It remains one of the most beautiful (most photographed) buildings in all of Barkerville. It is still almost all original too.

For some reason, I don't have a single shot of its exterior. I'll keep an eye out.


Looking out the front foor from the apse.

The BIG original woodstove. The apse is beautiful, but hard to photograph because of the amount of light those windows let in. However, the visual effect at 10:00am on a Sunday morning is stunning.

The altar.

Umm ... don't tell the bishop I was sitting in her chair.

Following is a bunch of fire-starting photos. Believe it or not, I was always a little nervous lighting fire in this building. Look hard ... it's all wood. Wood that has been allowed to cure for 140 years. 

Another photo of the church's interior.

 This photo is quite deliberate. Can you make out the portrait on the wall behind me? That's the Rev'd James Reynard ... the original Barkerville priest. Can you see the size of that beard? That's what I had to live up to.

That's the rope for the church bell we are gathered around. EVERYONE wanted to summon the faithful.



The Rev'd Reynard About Town ...

Normally I'm not that inclined to post photos of myself, but I promised a bunch of people some shots of life in Barkerville. In particular, I think my seminary (Emmanuel and St. Chad) needs some high quality photos. Here they are! (I think.)

So, I lived a summer as a 1870s priest in the Cariboo frontier. I got quite used to wearing a cassock.

(I think) The following shots are from Dominion Day (Canada Day). I was asked to open the proceedings with a prayer.

My brother (Jo) spent the summer up there with me. He was an actual gold miner. Add a journey down the Historic Gold Trail in our F350 wagon (in clergy black) and we were just about a CBC special.

 The Rev'd Reynard, Mr. Grimsby (half mad miner from the California gold fields), and Glen Ross (archaeologist and China Town interpreter)

Following are a series of three photos of Miss Playfair, who seems to derive an unseemly amount of enjoyment from making the poor preacher blush. She's a lady, but still from a gold rush town. The weather is not the only hardship to be endured in Barkerville.

Some curiously dressed people. Probably from some other colony. Notice the man with the child is wearing curiously short trousers? Normally this would only be appropriate for a school boy. I can only think that the man in the blue working shirt must be a Highlander, given all that curly hair. Or a pirate, I suppose.
Well, first the gospel, then manners.

C. Strouss ... a great source of moral support and coffee.

F.J. Barnard: the famous wagons.



Miss Foo-Ling Tseng and the Rev'd Reynard