Thursday, March 31, 2011

India, not yet ironic

From a very interesting article my dear husband sent me entitled "Why You Should Care about Cricket" (http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/eticket/story?page=110329/Cricket)

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India today seems a lot like America in the mid-50s.

This is largely a pre-ironic society. Yes, there is a rich history of satire, and modern exceptions -- the '50s also produced Jack Kerouac -- but the earnestness with which people love Sachin is reflected in many aspects of the culture. There's no place, yet, for an Indian "Daily Show." Elephants aren't for statues representing a bygone era, like the blue mustang outside Denver's airport. They are for the slow lane.
Movies are expected to end a certain way. Heroes in those movies are expected to behave a certain way. In his definitive book on Mumbai, "Maximum City," author Suketu Mehta describes an Indian audience's reaction when the hero of a film turned out to be a terrorist. They ransacked the theater. It does not seem strange to an Indian filmgoer that the songs in the movies have nothing to do with the plot.

Mehta writes:
"The suspension of disbelief in India is prompt and generous, beginning before the audience enters the theater itself. Disbelief is easy to suspend in a land where belief is so rampant and vigorous. And not just in India; audiences in the Middle East, Russia and Central Asia are also pre-cynical. They still believe in motherhood, patriotism, and true love; Hollywood and the West have moved on."



Trees go wild

One of the many things that astounds and confounds me about India: after 4 to 5 months without a single drop of rain, the trees burst into bloom! Many lose all their leaves and wear flowers only. It’s really an amazing sight, especially in the full heat of summer where temps are mid-90s and there is no water.



Tennis.... in India


A few months after Sarah was born, I resolved to get out of the house and back on the tennis court once a week.  It was quite an experience picking up my racquet after not playing regularly for 15 years.  

Here’s how you know you’re taking tennis lessons in INDIA:
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  • You pay $12 for an hour of private lessons and your instructor’s name is Vimal.
  • He answers his cell phone multiple times in the course of your hour lesson.
  • There are a few landscaping workers who hide between the palm trees and the tennis court to shirk their duties and/or watch you return to your former tennis glory.
  • The feedback you get after each shot is, “More fronter, madam”, “No hitting up, madam”, “Closing, madam”, “No squeezing, madam”, “Not hitting very good today, madam.”  He is also sure to notify me every time a ball doesn’t make it over the net. “No.”
  • The tennis balls are occasionally covered with soot because the court is built on top of the generator for the whole housing community.
  • You get distracted by flocks of butterflies hovering around the court drawn to the beautiful flowers. 
  • Every single person who walks by stares.  (“Look at the tall white lady trying to play tennis!”) The lesson is watched by every driver (car, autorickshaw, motorcycle) parked nearby.

The eyes have it


After months of squinting and trouble reading, I finally went to get an eye exam.  It takes several hours, thus it was hard to find time and transportation, but I did it.  It was a little disconcerting being ushered from station to station where I was examined (no hand washing happened :(  ),no forewarning about what would happen at each station (like “here comes a puff of air into your eye!”), listening to nurses and assistants chat in various other languages…  always interesting when you hear “madam” sprinkled in, hard not to project or wonder what’s being said.  I was given old school metal frames and different lenses were dropped in at various intervals.  The prescription I walked away with was quite different from my previous one, but glasses seem to be ok.

 Have to admit, however, I never summoned the nerve to see the dentist here.  I did give birth in India, but just couldn’t manage the thought of dental care.  Oh well, hope no damage was done in the 18 months since our last visit in MN! 

Monday, March 28, 2011

Rug shopping success

These photos don't do them justice but we have finally purchased some rugs. How can you not when you're in INDIA?



Another last supper

On Sunday we had a special dinner with everyone who has helped us in our home (and on the road) and their families. It was a very nice evening. I served their various favorites: chips & salsa!, mutton biriyani, coconut beef curry (guess who's not Hindu), tomato rasam (soup), basmati rice, parathas (flat bread), pasta ali oli. Another lovely time with people who are dear to us. These special gatherings are helping our hearts as we prepare to end this chapter of life and reenter a very different life back home. One of the hardest parts about leaving is knowing that we very well may never see many of our friends here again.



The Last Supper


A lovely evening with friends from India, the US, England, Wales, France and Sweden. Fabulous Indian food!


A very special lunch

Our dear driver Raju treated us to a feast at this wonderful Indian restaurant. Since his wife and daughters are in the village now during the postpartum resting period, he wasn't able to invite us to his home as he had wanted. So he took us out for an incredible lunch of tandoori fish and chicken, hot garlic naan, mutton biriyani and more. I loved the place so much I chose it for my last night out with girlfriends!



What's your guess? PG for Gents

Daddy's Birthday

You know you're in India when fresh mango cheesecake and cricket bats are part of your celebration.



Saturday, March 19, 2011

From our local organic farmer friends

After the recent wild elephant intrusion again in mid February we have managed to limp back to partial normalcy. Now it is the heat, dryness and lack of water that we are trying to tackle.

The local administration has now commenced work on excavating a trench intended to contain the elephants within the reserve forests.

All these impediments have temporarily affected the quantity of produce and we are unable to make the usual round this week.

Please bear with us. Early “April showers” will bring respite.

We will mail again soon.

We thank all of you again for your encouragement and support of our natural farming initiative.

Friday, March 11, 2011

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Things that no longer shock me...

  • Sparks flying every time I unplug the computer back up and plug in the printer.
  • Not have water for hours without warning. (no washing, toilet flushing, laundry, sink, etc.)
  • Little geckos scurrying in and out of the house
  • The mosquito fogger guy on a bike spraying ddt every evening
  • Cows, dogs, chickens, bullocks, goats and the occasional monkey impeding traffic
  • Multidimensional traffic coming/going wherever it can, organized by a set of rules that can't quite be articulated or abstracted... not unlike the flow of water.
  • Public urination.  (Still don't like it, but am no longer shocked.)
  • Having household help.
  • Eating perfectly ripe pineapple... for 36 cents.
  • Keeping the windows open 24 hours a day, 365 days a year (excepting the occasional monsoon downpour)
  • 15 varieties of mango available during mango season.
  • Having beer delivered to your house. 

Just your average Indian brithday party




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Sunday, March 6, 2011

Ups and downs


Though it’s a cliché, it’s true that life here is often a rollercoaster.  Today held both peaks and valleys.

It may sound insignificant, but I was feeling really tired of India after a terrible haircut experience for Hannah and myself (not being listened to, being stared at by all the stylists and the patrons in the salon at the mall, being overcharged by 3 times, and leaving with precisely the same hair problem we came in with) then haggling with a rickshaw driver and being overcharged by more than 300%.... being laughed at by the whole line of drivers, all unwilling to turn on the meter or agree on a fair price (even twice what Indians would pay).  It’s hard to feel like you’re always being taken advantage of and all people see is a white face = money.

I’m happy to report that the end of the day was a highlight of our time here.  Rani, who cleans for us and cares for Sarah in the evenings, invited us to her new home for dinner.  We were able to help her secure some affordable housing for a long period of time and she wanted to thank us for our assistance.  It was a sweet time of fellowship with her family—her widowed mother and three daughters.  We prayed blessings for her new home and enjoyed a delicious meal prepared just for us, with each of our favorite dishes and beverages.  Her mother wept with gratitude, I cried tears of amazement at God’s goodness to us and to others, and the children played happily around us.  It is a simple place but spacious by Indian standards, spotlessly clean and cheerfully painted and decorated. 

As I savor the evening in recounting it, the most salient part is the deep happiness I felt in spending the evening there.  Before we left, she showed us the rooftop where washing is done, shoes are stored and chilis are dried.  The sun was setting, palm trees waved, raucous temple music wafted in and out, trucks and rickshaws sputtered on the street, an occasional goat bleated and Sarah waved to the passersby staring (read: gaping) at us from 3 stories below.

Rani’s life has truly touched ours (see previous post) and I am grateful.  Her love for us and our children, especially Sarah, has been a great joy and comfort to us on this rollercoaster.  I will truly miss her presence in our lives..

Rewind: blogs converge--"Lives that touch ours"

Just to keep everyone on their toes, I tried to start a blog at a different address because of the ongoing problems we'd had with blogspot, but it's working now and this is the easiest place to share, so we're back.

Here's a post I wrote weeks ago on the other site...  It's relevant because of what I will write about next, a wonderful evening we spent with Rani and family.

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I have floundered a bit, trying to decide how to begin… where to start.  There are months of photos and travels to share, stories to tell, recipes to post.  I will do my best to chronicle the adventures we’ve had but for now I will leave you with what’s foremost on my heart and mind: the pain, joy, suffering, hope and hopelessness, and intensity in the lives that touch ours here.

I could write a novel about some of these things but this is not the place for that.  Rani, the lovely woman who cleans for us and helps with Sarah when I am putting the kids to bed, has grown increasingly dear to me over our time here.  Last night she shared about a time when she was 6 years old.  She was awakened at midnight by her mother (father had abandoned them early on) and taken to a lake in the center of the city.  In utter desperation, her mother had sewn rocks into her sari to weight it down and she waded into the lake to drown herself, calling for Rani to follow.  “Come, we will die, ” she said.  Blessedly, Rani ran scared and encountered 2 people walking near the shore who then coaxed her mother out of the water, preventing both of their deaths.

Rani began cleaning houses at age 10, was married to an awful, awful man at age 13, and has an amazing story of heartbreak and courage.  She is 31 years old, has 3 beautiful daughters (14, 16, 19), and is the sole provider for her household (separated from husband 10 years ago).  Though she herself is illiterate, she has ensured that all of her daughters continue with their studies.  I am so grateful for a chance to know her and am challenged and blessed by her life touching mine.

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

More Mumbai moments


 Knife sharpening on the go.
 Bringing in the fishing nets
Fresh lime soda (No, we didn't partake.  We know better.)