Author: andrasthehun

Unboxing My New iRobot: A Weekend Adventure

January 12 2024

The new iRobot arrived from Amazon, but I delayed opening the box. Things were about to get difficult.

That old iRobot developed some bad habits. Like older people, it got cranky; sometimes it worked, sometimes it did not. The situation was far more frustrating than the word suggests when the machine spun around in a circle and went home like a dog refusing a walk. So, it was time to get a new one.

There I was, examining the sizable box holding my new iRobot. When I receive a new product, I usually empty the box to see all the items sent and then look for the one-page instructions.

Assuming that the new one needed powering up, I plugged it in. I then consulted the instructions, but the print was too small to decipher. With a magnifying glass, I discovered that of the dozens of pages, only two were in English. The other pages had identical text in dozens of languages, each two pages long.

Besides the instruction manual, I found two cards with QR codes. I have an iPhone, so I had no trouble taking a picture of the codes and reading the instructions. But what if I had no iPhone?

No other instructions were provided beyond the miniature English text and QR codes. From the two pages of text, I learned to charge the machine until the swirling white circle around the start button stopped. The other and more critical instruction was to “pair” my iPhone with the iRobot. Once I paired my phone with the cleaning genius, instructions arrived.

The first command received was to give my machine a name. We discussed the name. We didn’t intend to imply cleaning is women’s work, but finding a gender-neutral name souncing good to both of us proved difficult. The current recognition of multiple sexes makes using “(he/she)” after names too lengthy. Our old iRobot, Matilda, has a namesake: our new iRobot.

Soon enough, my iPhone indicated Matilda was ready to clean. I punched the starter button, and Matilda came off her base. Then she took off towards the bedroom, changed her mind, and returned to crank around her base. After that, she seemed to meander aimlessly in different rooms until it ran out of juice, returned, and mounted her base for a refill.

I was disappointed by the short amount of time Matilda spent cleaning. At this rate, she will need three or four charges to clean the main floor. The old and faithful Matilda did the entire floor with only two charges.

By now, not knowing what to do next and in a frustrated mood, it was time to call customer service. Connecting with a very courteous gentleman with a foreign accent did not take long. A nagging question about his location tugged at my mind, though I felt no desire for interaction in my current mood. He told me to charge Matilda three hours before starting. I had charged it for less than an hour because my iPhone informed me Matilda was ready to dance. The swirling was slow, and my iPhone said Matilda was ready.

Another key information I learned from the representative was to press the “map” button first so Matilda could survey our house, measure the rooms, and map them in her memory. The first time around, she will not clean, he said. I asked where the map button was. I saw the word map next to the Google symbol for maps, but when I touched the symbol, Matilda jumped off the base and started cleaning. No, the customer service gentleman said. Just touch the words “map,” not the symbol. And so, we made friends with Matilda, and once charged for the third time, she cranked around the entire main floor, mapping our house without cleaning.

She mapped our house into her memory and even called the rooms by their names. For example, there was a living room, bedrooms numbers one and two, and so forth. She correctly identified our Christmas tree, calling it ” the Holiday Tree,” the accepted word for it by today’s standards. How the hell could she recognize it? The star-shaped footing for the tree may have given her the information around which she had to circumnavigate. Very smart. And if I did not find the floor plan realistic, I could correct it on my iPhone.

Now that Matilda had our floor plan in her plastic body, I could enter a ‘new project,’ check the rooms to be cleaned, and then punch the start button.

Opening the box, figuring out the instructions, calling for customer help, and waiting for Matilda to charge and recharge took most of the weekend. Now, with the floor plan in Matilda’s mind, I can still change. I understand how to use the new iRoboy and could retire old Matilda to the basement should she return to life.  

Phew! I relaxed and poured myself a glass of wine, celebrating success. Then the realization hit me: did we not get this model because it is not only self-cleaning but also “mops.” (Self-cleaning means we do not have to empty the dustbin. She does it herself by having a massive blow into the base when she finishes the assigned project and returns to the base). Yes, she does mop with water! Aha, that is why there was another gadget for mopping in the box, into which we put some water. Boy, I’ll need another weekend to figure out how to mop with Matilda! I’ll sit on it for a week before initiating another adventure with Matilda.

Exploring Panjim and Old Goa’s World Heritage Sites

January 2, 2025


Arriving in Panjim, the capital of Goa, we made our way to our small hotel in the downtown area. Our contact there arranged a driver to go sightseeing.


The next day, the driver took us to Old Goa, where UNESCO declared a large area as a World Heritage Site in 1986. Sultanates ruled old Goa, founded in the fifteenth century on the banks of the Mandavi River until the Portuguese captured it in 1510. The Portuguese ran their colony from Old Goa until they moved the viceroy’s residence to Panjim in 1759. During their stay, the Portuguese had built several Catholic churches in and around Old Goa. With the viceroy’s departure, Old Goa’s religious significance diminished.

We walked over to the UNESCO World Heritage Site, which contains seven historical churches, one in ruins and the others in different stages of renovation. The builders constructed the churches in the Baroque architectural style. Although we found this site significant, it is less interesting architecturally. We have seen several more interesting World Heritage Sites in India (thirty-eight such sites in India).


Half a day spent wandering the buildings was adequate for us. It was a hot day with temperatures in the thirties (over 100 degrees Fahrenheit). We walked with our water bottles in the sun on the heritage site’s grassy field.

I recommend seeing the Basilica of Born Jesus on this World Heritage Site. It is famous for containing the remains of St. Francis Xavier, founder of the Jesuit Order, and associated artifacts, including his casket.


The other edifice we enjoyed was the Chapel of St. Catherine, a small building needing renovations but uncrowded and surrounded by vegetation providing welcome shade. Alfonso de Albuquerque built this chapel when he took possession of Goa in 1510 on Saint Catherine’s Day (November 25th). We took a hydration break at a small kiosk and called our driver for the return trip.


While heading back to Panjim, approximately ten kilometers down the road, the driver paused to grab a jacket upon getting a phone call. He said the police were monitoring taxi drivers further up the road, and the law required drivers to wear a formal dress or pay a hefty fine. I thought this regulation concerned creating a professional image for tourists.

According to the driver, in Goa, people view being a police officer as rewarding due to their ability to stop and search individuals for any reason. And people will negotiate and pay cash to avoid being fined. Applicants to the police force will pay bribes to get an interview. Families join to raise money for a family member who, if successful in becoming a police officer, supports the entire family

We walked around Panjim, which has a population of about 100,000. It has a European feel, with low-rise buildings and curvy streets. We enjoyed the many small stores lining the streets and stopped by an optometrist whose prices were low compared to prices in Canada. They offered us a plan whereby we gave them our prescriptions, and they would fill them at any time at a low cost for an annual fee. We considered it but decided against it, thinking of the time it would take to get glasses mailed to us. Shoppers and passersby were helpful with directions to the Bishop’s Palace; however, the impressive, two-story building was closed on our arrival.

The next day, we visited a beach, a major tourist attraction in Goa. Thinking an hour would get the smell and atmosphere of the beach; we told the driver to wait. Upon stepping onto the sandy beach, hawkers surrounded us, trying to rent umbrellas, sell refreshments, and offer massages. I struggled to shake them off without resorting to discourtesy. It was not a pleasant experience. Their presence stemmed from business opportunities.

Understanding the language, I listened to the Russian tourists on the beach availing themselves of the full range of services. Also noticeable were the women in long sarees, which they wore into the water with their children. An early bedtime preceded our 4:30 AM flight. My anxiety grew with each passing moment as the cab failed to arrive. I called the driver several times and was told he was on the way. He explained his tardiness one hour late: the airport was only 30 minutes away, and a few flights meant no rush. He was right, and we boarded Qatar Airways to Doha and Washington, DC, connecting with a United Airways flight to Ottawa. We arrived on the same day as the day we left, even though we had twenty hours of flying time with five hours’ waiting time in between flights.

Reflections on Christmas Brunch Conversations

December 31, 2024

While others watched football on Christmas Day, we relaxed with friends over brunch. Years ago, we used to start these special days with mimosas, but that’s become a thing of the past as we’ve gotten older. Instead, this year, I started the fireplace, brewed coffee, turned on the Christmas tree lights, and scanned the news on my iPhone. A headline claiming Assad’s responsibility for 150,000 deaths caught my attention—an expert called it the worst massacre since the Nazis. That news was a real downer, and I looked forward to socializing with friends to uplift my mood.

Perhaps because of Christmas, my friends and I casually discussed religion during brunch. I inquired if anyone attended church. No one did, and neither did their families. We are not church-going people, although one of our guests volunteers vacuuming in one.

Remembering the headline news I read this morning, I could not help but ask: “If God created this world, how could he tolerate Assad’s killing spree?” God gave us “free will,” someone responded. I did not find this comment enlightening, but I continued to delve into our religious background. Surprising was the realization that some of our children had not been baptized, or we could not remember whether they were.

During our conversation on religion, one claimed that religion had triggered most wars, while others believed religion’s relevance had diminished. The spread of science has contributed to religion’s lessening role in today’s world, as it is based on facts rather than beliefs. All I have to do to confirm this is talk to my daughter and son-in-law, both scientists. Contrasting this latter view, some recounted friends whose marriages followed religious conversion by one spouse.

While serving coffee, I overheard someone mention that she missed the King’s Christmas address last night. That comment stopped me cold. Who were we talking about? A King? But a few seconds later, my brain switched gears, and I realized it was the British King. Since Canada is in the Commonwealth, we often discuss the Royal Family.

Thinking about heads of government addressing the public, I asked if anyone had listened to our Prime Minister addressing Canadians on Christmas Eve. We saw him on TV, but no one else did. That surprised me because, to some of our guests, a Christmas speech by the King of England apparently took priority over the one our Prime Minister gave. Where is our loyalty? But I remember our Prime Minister said our country is beyond a multicultural state and we live in some international order. What he meant wasn’t clear to me, and it still is not.  

Most families watch a movie on Christmas Eve, and I brought up the movie we watched, “Hot Frosty.” One friend mentioned it as a “cute” one, while another thought it was horrible. The film, about a snowman’s transformation into a human, was unrealistic but enjoyable and heartwarming. I thought this was a children’s film, but others saw it as simple entertainment for adults. It was relaxing, although I prefer movies with some messaging and reality.

However, the tasty brunch included cinnamon muffins, quiche, coffee, tea, and cider. The fact that we were all friends enabled open communication, calmly sharing our views on potentially divisive issues.

Cultural Insights from a Kerala Tour Guide


December 27, 2024

Heavyset, with an average height and a dark face, Dinesh was our guide in Kerala. He grew up in Kochin, his birthplace. Malayalam, the official language of Kerala, was his mother tongue, although he spoke English but with an Indian accent. Over a couple of weeks, we had gotten to know him. Married with two small children; his family surely missed him while he traveled constantly for work. We found him easy-going, affable, personable, and eager to please us.

Everything about him was clean; he wore a clean shirt daily, befitting a professional chauffeur and guide. Although I never asked him, it impressed me how he got his impeccably starched shirts every day. He must have carried many shirts or had them cleaned overnight. Similarly, his car was shiny and always impeccably clean, and the interior was spotless. No objects, like the newspapers we read on the road, were ever left behind. His company’s car was like a jewel to him, and he hoped to buy it soon. Years later, I saw him showing off “his” car on Facebook.

Proud of his country, he showed and described it to us in glowing terms. His work was very important to him, and he related his experience with the English chef Gordon Ramsey collecting recipes for a book on Indian cooking. Dinesh showed us a photograph of Ramsey, his crew, and himself for emphasis. Impressed, Kathy bought a copy of that book in Kerala.


I noticed he was conscious of his class, a reality in some countries, including India. He deferred to others, whom I assumed he considered high-class people. It always happened when we invited him to eat lunch with us. He excused himself by claiming to be busy.


But once, we asked him to take us to a local Indian restaurant, a highway stop. There, we had thali food on grape leaves filled with curries. Looking around, I noticed that most of the people looked like laborers. He did not hesitate to sit with us and explain our food. After we ate with our fingers, local style, we washed our hands in the sink at the end of the dining hall.

At another time, we invited him to dinner to discuss the next day’s plans. He did not want to join us, perhaps because it was a more expensive restaurant. We were forceful and did not take no for an answer. He obliged us. When the waiter came, he gave Kathy and me menus, but not Dinesh. Even the local people knew and discriminated according to what class they were serving.

I requested an extra menu for Dinesh, which the waiter provided. We were all served, but I knew Dinesh was uncomfortable throughout the dinner. He remained silent, avoiding eye contact. Later, I realized we may have asked too much of him by insisting he eat with us. What we thought was normal was not for him.

 After days of traveling with Dinesh, I noticed he did not come into the hotels with us; he dropped us off. I remember the Tharawad Homestay, where he left us with the details of when he would pick us up the following day. Drivers were not permitted to park in high-end residential areas or obstruct driveways. We learned he slept in the car every night.

We were on a tour, and the tour operator paid for all our hotels but provided no accommodation for our guide. He had to find a place to park and sleep overnight. I do not know how he looked so fresh every morning, drove us around Kerala, and provided knowledgeable comments. I follow him on Facebook.

Kanyakumari’s Sunrises, Statues, and Spiritual Significance

December 24. 2024


Kanyakumari, located at India’s southernmost point, is where the Bay of Bengal, Indian Ocean, and Arabian Sea converge. The sunrises and sunsets were vivid on a clear day, and we saw the moon rising on one side while the sun was going down on the other. We were eager to witness the bay’s unique three-colored seas, a natural wonder, and its importance in Indian burial traditions. It is a mecca; people bring the ashes of their loved ones from all over India to toss into the waters at the southernmost tip of India.

View from our balcony: Thiruvalluvar Statue and Vivekananda Rock Memorial


Dinesh showed us the Thiruvalluvar Statue and Vivekananda Rock Memorial from our waterfront hotel, two major attractions on a large rock outcropping several hundred meters offshore. From our room facing the bay, we watched the ferries transport people to the Rock throughout the day. The crowd below enjoyed bathing in the water, and long lines waited for the ferry to take them to the Rock.


I discovered the place where the crowd bathed was blessed. Let me recount a Hindu legend to explain. The name Kanyakumari comes from Goddess Kanyakumari, the sister of Krishna. Hindus revere Krishna, one of the most popular Indian divinities, as the supreme God, embodying compassion, tenderness, and love. His sister Kanyakumari is a goddess to whom women pray to get married.

Hindu legend says Goddess Kanyakumari’s wedding to Shiva, a main Hindu deity, was ruined when he didn’t show. Rice meant for the wedding remained uncooked and unused. The uncooked grains turned into stones as time went by. Legend says the small, shore-side white stones, resembling rice, are from a wedding that never took place. Kanyakumari, now seen as a virgin goddess, bestows blessings on the many pilgrims and tourists visiting the town of stones. So the bathers were on blessed grounds.

From the balcony, we had a clear view of the Thiruvalluvar statue. The pilgrims reached it by ferry, which departed every half hour, fully loaded. Instead of going there, we felt our time would be better spent reading up on what the statue represented.


Thiruvalluvar, which means Saint Valluvar, was an Indian poet and philosopher. He wrote the Tirukkural, a treatise on virtue, love, and wealth in short couplets of seven words, called the kurals. Scholars date the text variously between 300 BC and AD 500. Saint Valluvar is one of Tamil Nadu’s most famous philosophers, and the Tirukkural is considered a secular work on morality and ethics.


Officials unveiled the statue on January 1, 2000. Interestingly, the artist who designed it related it to the Tirukkural; the statue is 133 feet high, corresponding to the 133 chapters in the Tirukkural. Although I could not find why the statue was there, it is a striking location in the ocean, four hundred meters from the shoreline.

We got up at 4:00 am and took pictures of the sunrise on one side and the moon receding on the other. Then, we went down to the port to join the crowds. We walked around the people and talked with some who spoke English; they had slept there overnight to ensure they could get on the ferry early in the morning. Along with the crowds, we visited the Mahatma Gandhi Memorial (Gandhi Mandapam), where the urn containing his ashes was kept for public viewing.


There was not much to see at the Memorial except the modern architecture. Mahatma Gandhi visited Kanyakumari in 1925 and 1937. Twelve urns containing his ashes were dispersed across the nation following his 1948 demise. They brought one urn to Kanyakumari and placed it where they built the Memorial. Construction was completed in 1956.


The central spire of this Memorial is 79 feet high, reflecting Gandhi’s age when he died. I was reminded of the Thiruvalluvar statue—its height correlating to the number of chapters in St. Valluvar’s book—when I saw how this building incorporated an aspect of the person it memorializes. On Gandhi’s birthday, October 2nd, sunlight shines directly on the spot where his ashes are kept in the Mahatma Gandhi Memorial building, thanks to a strategically placed ceiling opening.

Workers constructed the Vivekananda Rock Memorial in 1970 to honor Swami Vivekananda. Vivekananda, born in 1863, was a chief disciple of the nineteenth-century Indian mystic Ramakrishna and introduced the Indian philosophies of Vedanta and Yoga to the Western world. He died in 1902. But it was not just the Swami who interested me. It was the process by which the Memorial had taken shape.


In 1963, during the centenary of Swami’s birth, a Hindu committee in Kanyakumari recommended that a memorial be constructed on the Rock about 500 meters from the shore. Local Catholic fishermen opposed the plan, staging a protest that included a large cross placed on the Rock; however, it vanished overnight. This controversy became a political issue, and the local politicians escalated it to Madras, now Chennai, the capital of Tamil Nadu.


 The controversy continued in Chennai, with opposition from a politically powerful state minister who thought a monument would destroy the natural beauty of the rock island. Eknath Ranade, an activist, pushed for the memorial by raising the matter in Delhi, lobbying representatives, and gathering enough signatures to persuade Prime Minister Nehru to approve it. This story and process were not atypical of similar efforts in North America.

The night before our departure to Bangalore, on the way to Goa, we lounged by the pool of the Pappukuty Beach Resort in Kovalam. In the pool, I had a very informative and pleasant conversation with an Indian in the high-tech field. We discussed the superb high-tech professionals India’s Institutes of Technology (IITs) educate.

 India boasts over a dozen IITs, including those in Delhi, Mumbai, and Chennai. A tutoring industry has emerged to help students gain admission to these prestigious universities, which receive more government funding than other institutions. But beyond good technical education, are other factors that make Indians successful in high-tech?

My newly found friend in the pool suggested that the English colonials left a management-oriented culture for the Indians after independence. He also thought that the English language, widely used in India, had been an advantage for Indian techies over those from countries without strong English language skills, such as China. My new friend says Indian culture emphasizes consensus over directives, which makes Indians naturally adept at collaborative management, which is crucial for modern success. Given the success of Indian CEOs at companies like Microsoft, Google, Nokia, Sun, and Adobe, it was hard to disagree with his perspective. On the last day, Dinesh took us to the Trivandrum Airport, and we said goodbye to each other. He became quiet and serious. Over two weeks, we had bonded and gotten used to each other’s company and would miss each other. However, our trip to Goa provided a welcome distraction from missing him.