“OOTY BUS, OOTY BUS, OOTY BUS”

Just outside our window on the taxi ride to Bangalore.

Good evening. I am yawning uncontrollably right now. I wonder if you all yawned when you read that. Kind of like when you see someone yawning, and then you automatically yawn. Wouldn’t it be great if I passed on a yawn half a world away? Okay, maybe not amazing. But noteworthy. If you yawned, could you post it in the comments? My research is sure to be pretty scientific. Okay, now that I have almost spent a whole paragraph on yawning, I will try to make a lively transition. To waken us all up.

This past weekend, I went up to Pune with Bec and seven students from St. Hilda’s School and Hebron. We met her sister Debbie there, who currently lives in Pune. We wanted to take a crew of girls there to partner with the Sisters conference that is coming up in a week and a half. The goal of the trip was to broaden the knowledge base of the students on different social issues (HIV/AIDS, training centers for homeless youth, trafficking, meeting with the police commissioner, etcetera). The girls either interviewed staff or interacted with people at the different sites. They will take these experiences and be the “main speakers” for the social justice session during the conference. I went up on Saturday and came home Monday night. The rest of the crew is staying until Friday.

The girls on the balcony of the boarding school where we stayed.

The seven girls represented five different countries.

The lab at the HIV/AIDS clinic we visited.

Training stations for youth wanting to get jobs at car factories.

Let me tell you some of the more memorable moments... Interacting with students for the first time in probably four years (for those of you that don’t know, I was involved in youth work for about a decade, up until I had Sydney). That was such a big part of my life before. We had some meaningful conversations, as well as some good laughs. Another memorable time was going to my first movie in India. That was so fun. Also, I was opening my car door and didn’t look to the left and silly me knows that two wheelers can go between the sidewalk and the car... but I did not check and totally rammed the door into a passing scooter, not injuring the guys, but definitely tipping them over. Can you believe it? I tipped them over. Let me tell you how awful I felt. And so embarrassed. Moving on, my face is getting red just thinking about it... It was really incredible watching the students, in a very mature way, interview adults and engage in the social issues at hand (good eye contact, quite articulate, good non-verbals).

So, let me share with you another story of my travels. I flew from Pune to Bangalore Monday night. Then, I was to catch a 10:15 p.m. overnight bus to Ooty, getting in early Tuesday morning. Now, I could tell you that I was all breezy about going to the Bangalore bus stand at 10 o’clock at night and catching a bus. But then, I would be lying. I definitely had to put my big girl pants on and just do it. The fare was $8 U.S. dollars, comparatively to a car which is about $75. So, I got a bus from the airport to the bus stand, no problem. Found the platform that my bus was to come to, no problem. The bus didn’t come until 11:30, no problem. Bus came, gave the ticket to the driver, my ticket was for the next night, problem. No more seats left on the bus, problem. At this moment, I could have tried to pull myself together and talk rationally to these kind men. But I didn’t, I cried. I couldn’t help myself, people. In the big spectrum of life, not a big deal. But I was tired and overwhelmed and I simply just let it go. So, the driver was a bit startled by my reaction, looked at me as if my water just broke and I was going into labor and what in the world was he going to do with me. He told me that he did have a seat for me, but it was the seat that they usually don’t give to passengers. I didn’t care. Give it to me! But I needed to pay 400 rupees, and I freakin’ didn’t have it. I had 300 rupees though. No go. At this time everyone was getting anxious to get going. The driver told me to go to the office and get my ticket refunded, he said he would wait. I felt suspicious of that fact, but I went for it anyway. I flew up there and in a very broken conversation tried to tell the ticket guy my issue. Within moments, there were probably a dozen men surrounding me, giving me advice, all with very little English. After a time, they finally figured out what I needed, gave me a refund, and I flew back down to the platform. There was no bus going to Ooty in sight. So, in a bewildered and very loony way, just started yelling “OOTY BUS, OOTY BUS, OOTY BUS,” very loudly. And one of the traffic people heard me and told me to follow him and we ran after the bus, finally got to the moving door, tapped on it, and showed him that I had the money. I am pretty sure that he thought I was a serious nut case. But I got on the bus and found my seat. My seat was in the very back, in the middle of a block of five seats, and I think the reason they never sell that one to anyone is that the reclining feature of this particular seat never locks. So on every speed-bump, slow-down, speed-up, or curvy-curve, the seats moves up and down. It’s pretty much a constant roller coaster. But I didn’t really care my friends, because I was on my “OOTY BUS.”

The bus station...pre-meltdown.

****You may be wondering how the ticket mishap happened and why I didn’t catch it. Well there is no clear reason, just that between the four people that were handling the ticket, the dates got switched somewhere. It really doesn’t matter. And I never know the date of the month, so I am complete loser in that category.

Pot Roast Dinner in the Car

The most beat-up package we've yet received. (Thank you Askers, it was fantastic nonetheless!)

Photos from Ani's first trail ride

Sydney's had a bit of a cold

Jovie wasn't crying in this photo. She's all "cold" as well.

Gather around while I tell you a tale that is unforgettable. That was my sentence that was supposed to grab you, did it? It actually is a tale about forgetting. Within a course of two days, we found out that we skipped right over Mike, our new brother-in-law’s, birthday; I got all mixed up with Sammy’s and David’s birthday (I have been giving gifts to them for about a decade); and I congratulated Betsie on getting married, finding out that I was about a month off. I was very teary when I realized all my blunders, because here’s the twisted deal that goes on in my mind about me being here (here being India). If I am at least present enough in people’s lives, whether it’s emails, phone calls, gifts, notes, blogs, etc... then I won’t be forgotten. And within the course of a few days, I was ridiculously not present. Now, my mind, when it comes to birthdays and such, is not as sharp as a tack. One would think that I would set up some very easy reminders, such as, hmmm... a calendar. I go in waves with calendars. This year, I do not have one going. I don’t know why, I just don’t. So, usually, with my cat-like sensory skills, I pick up on lines that give me clues about upcoming events. But here, I miss the clues. I miss lots of them. Sometimes I don’t always know what to do with all that I am missing.

Jovie is screaming wildly right now in bed, protesting the fate of sleep. I protest with staying up too late reading or watching a movie. I like my protest better.

Today our car wouldn’t start, which is surprising. The Car/Van/Can is surprisingly reliable. A mechanic came out to look at the car... rats had chewed on some very important wires I guess. The mechanic said that if we wouldn’t eat snacks in the car, that would help the rats not to chew on the wires. Okay. It’s not like we eat a pot roast dinner in the car, it’s crackers, chips or cut-up fruit. You try having four kids and not having car snacks. I dare you. The car still isn’t running great, I had this flash of fear while I was driving today, that a rat was scrambling around in the motor and since I practically sit on the motor, that a rat would take a chomp out of my rear. It’s not unheard of you know. When I was growing up, we once had family of mice scrambling around in the van... So, you can understand my fears, right?

Yesterday, we took in two boarders. JJ and Snowball. They are cute. They also have fleas. Do fleas bother humans? Or do they just bother animals? I need to figure out how to get rid of the fleas. Anyway, my eldest is an animal lover. So, kittens it is. I haven’t started sneezing yet, maybe kitten dander isn’t as lethal... I know nothing really. I about wet myself yesterday trying to chase down JJ as he darted around our bedroom. It took me half an hour trying to snatch him up. Half an hour of life, snap, just gone, because of a two pound creature.

Meet JJ and Snowball

Bec told me that I could tell you a sweet story of generosity. First, an important side note. Often in India, instead of people saving money in the bank, they buy gold jewelry and when they want to take out a loan, they give the gold to the bank and the bank gives them as much cash as the gold is worth, and when they have the money back, they take it to the bank and get their jewelry back. Now back to the story. Bec’s husband Glen is looking for a job, and has been looking for the last few months. Well, the family that works for Bec and Glen at their home, took them aside last week and told them that they had taken all their gold jewelry to the bank, cashed it in, and wanted to lend that money (about 50,000 rupees, which is about $1100 U.S. dollars) to Bec and Glen until he finds a job. The family that works for them does not have running water in their house. Amazing.

A Handmade Wooden Ladder

Jovie, on my lap, eating her breakfast. The morning routine.

Hello friends. It’s Thursday night. All is quiet at the Palm house. Today, James puked in class, on our doorstep, in our bed and then in a bucket. Poor buddy. James told me that he feels like his stomach is backwards. Good description. Speaking of my children and descriptions, lend me your ear for a moment whilst I tell you Ani’s (who is seven) spelling list. I am sure I will be amazed for years to come at what my children are learning in class, but this spelling list, while it may be normal for seven year olds in today’s world, I tell you that I just learned how to spell these words last year. Here we go.

Vegetable
Valuable
Reliable
Probable
Portable
Terrible
Horrible
Invisible
Possible
Impossible
Responsible
Sensible

Now, I know there is a major theme/pattern going on here, but still, what happened to this list for seven year olds?

Dog
Cat
Mom
Dad
Bat
Ball

Or even,

Apple
Duck
Egg
Sock
Rope

Oh well, what’s a mom to do, especially a mom who loves “spell check.”

So, yesterday, I took the following much celebrated pictures - the telephone repairman putting up our new phone line. So, as of four o’clock yesterday, we had internet again. So, so great. At eight o’clock last night, a storm rolled in, and lightening hit our phone line and fried our modem. What? WHAT? Do you remember this same thing happening last spring? When our modem finally got fixed, after weeks, and then a big bus with too much luggage strapped to the top came and clipped our telephone line, the very same day. Anyway, but I can’t expect too much dear friends. I don’t mean to disrespect India with that statement, but the reality, at least in Ooty, is that what we try to do with modern technology, really pushes the limits here. And sometimes the limits get pushed too far. It’s the marriage between India’s simplicity and its desire to welcome the demands of modern technology. Oftentimes it simply doesn’t work. The guy who came to fix our telephone walked up to the house with the telephone line wrapped around his shoulder - like we do with Christmas lights. When they were hanging the new line, the guy used a hand-made wooden ladder to get up our tree, because our tree is sort of proxy telephone pole. So, when our internet busts, it helps to remember that most of the people in this country do not have running water in their homes. It’s really important for me to remember that.

Here he is. Bag of phone line over his shoulder.

And here are his two helpful helpers. Note the phone line just behind them at Sydney's "head level." It's not normally like that.

Again, phone line right past the door and above the deck chairs.

And there it is, the handmaid wooden ladder. Note the broken step in the following picture.

Oh me, oh my, dear friends. What to do? What to do?

The Back of Katie Couric's Head

Our bashful Ani at Mike and Mel's wedding.

You can see all the wedding photos on our Facebook page - click here.

I feel like I am sitting in a glass house currently. All of our curtains are off and in the wash, trying to get the damp smell to skitter skatter away. So with all of our windows, it’s all a bit eerie. Not being able to see out, since its black as tar outside, but anyone, anything can see in. Yikes!

Eerie, huh?

Seriously eerie.

So, it’s true confessions time. Are you ready? Here we go. I kind of go a little bananas when I know someone famous is within reach. Like, I think about it all the time. Try to go out of my way to see him or her. Talk about it with other people, etc., etc. A few years back, I was on Nantucket Island at my dear friend Ruth’s wedding, and I saw the back of Katie Couric’s head. And it made my day. I think the whole famous people thing started back in the day of New Kids on the Block. I loved them, heart and soul. And at any cost, I would see them in concert when they were within reach. Since then, it doesn’t matter if I know them or not, I get all excited inside. So, this week, the Prime Minister of Tamil Nadu’s (the state that we live in) son came to town. Who he is and what he stands for, I know not...but there was much pomp built up to welcome the kind sir. They had major road blocks, loads and loads of police around, etc... So, I had the funny, excited feeling inside of me when I knew the guy was near. I am completely ridiculous and slightly embarrassed. But there you have it folks. I did snap some photos of the festivities while I was driving... not always preferable in the safety category, but completely necessary to help convey my excitement.

Note the pomp. Lot's of pomp.

We went to the dentist on Saturday. Five checkups, two teeth cleaning, two cavities filled (one of the them was my four year old, all my fault), one enamel work, one glaze type thing to protect the teeth, and one trainer (to help pull Ani’s front two teeth together) - all for $80. You really can’t beat it. Granted, not everyone would think having your dental work done in India is desirable, but alas, you can’t win them all. The dentist was great, but my favorite part of the visit was when she asked me if I felt my teeth were wearing out. Its hard to know how to answer that one. But I must admit that there must be a better way of asking that question to a patient. Anyway, she gave me something called Tooth Mousse, and said that it would help my teeth not to wear out, whatever that means. I have no idea what it is, if you do, could you tell me?

Brings a tear to my eye, Sydney's first cavity. All my fault.

I don’t think I ever told you about the washing machine/dryer repairman that almost stole three of my Ziplocs. No, I am sure I didn’t. Sounds like quite a story though, doesn’t it? So, when our dryer was broken right when we got back to India, the repairman was packing up his stuff and I went to go pay him and he was taking my brand new Ziplocs out their container and storing his stuff in them. I was so baffled. I said, “Are you stealing my Ziplocs?” and he said, “No stealing madam, just taking.” Oh, okay, that makes sense then. I then proceeded to make him give them all back. It wasn’t the fact that he was snatching my precious Ziplocs - lovingly sent from the States - it was more the principle of the matter. I told him, that if he would have asked, I would have totally given them to him. It was all a bit bizarre, and I wasn’t sure that I handled it correctly. So, fast forward to today. When he came to fix the washing machine, I kind of tried to schmooze him a bit, trying to make him feel better. Not that he probably cared, but I did. This was me in this afternoon... “Sir, would you like water? Tea? How about some lunch? No, sir, I don’t mind that I am paying you entirely too much to fix my washing machine that shouldn’t be broken in the first place.” Etcetera, etcetera. Probably overkill, but hey, I tried to clean up the whole Ziploc mess.

I am going to attach or at least somehow show you all the Sisters Conference brochure for the conference that I am a part of planning. I think it will give you all a better idea of what we are working on.

Click on either image below to see/read the Sisters Conference brochure I've been helping with.

Let me tell you about Gouri Tamang, the thirteen year old who testified against a major brothel keeper Tuesday. She is a Nepali girl who was rescued by Freedom Firm two years ago. Yes, at eleven years old. We flew her in for her court date (Monday) with no guarantee it would even happen. Monday came, the defense was “sick” and didn’t show, so the date was moved to Tuesday. Somehow everyone showed up on Tuesday and she testified brilliantly. We were so proud of her. Now she is back in Nepal, after being treated to some of the fun side of Pune by our staff before her flight, and we’ll patiently await the judge’s decision over the next few months.

That’s it for now folks. Grace and peace to you all as you move into your weekend.

This Cow Was Galloping

Ya gotta love pictures like these.

I love this girl!

Josephine puts out the laundry sometimes and as I stepped outside to take the laundry off the line, this made it on my list of favorites; the beautiful flower surrounded by our family's underwear.

I went for a walk on Saturday, and this is what I saw.

It’s Monday, September 13, 2010. This blog is written in two parts. The latter part was written last Thursday, and the next few paragraphs were written, well, right now. Right now being, Monday, September 13, 2010. I need to put on the broken record again, but our internet and washing machine are out again. What’s a girl to do around here? Along with the Shout Stain Remover, could you also please send me new internet and a new washing machine? Thank you.

So, it was a pretty festive weekend. Ramadan just ended and it’s party central around here. Lots of people coming in on big ol’ buses. When we were in Europe, I thought that I had seen lots of coach/bus travel. But, I think India has all of Europe beat. One interesting note about when people travel together here, it’s usually packs of men, and I mean packs, or sometimes families. You may see an all girls school tour going on occasionally, but mainly it’s just lots of men. That mostly has to do with it being quite inappropriate, at least in the south, for men and women to spend much time together outside of marriage.

Again at the dinner table tonight we had another exhilarating conversation. It all started when James asked how he could become famous. I guess one of his friends at school is in a magazine, and obviously now she is “famous”. We discussed all the advantages and disadvantages of becoming famous. I think of all my kids, if one of them were to become famous, it would be Sydney. She’s pretty, umm, charismatic. On Saturday night, she did convince an eight year old boy to marry her and then kiss her. Oh my...

My famous girl.

Written, Thursday -

So, Saturday, Jayson and I went out for a little date-date. It wasn’t raining hard, only misting, so we went on his motorcycle. Believe it or not, it was my first time on it. And it was fabulous. My most favorite part of the ride was when Jayson had to speed up to miss a cow that was heading straight for us. This cow was galloping, yes galloping I say... running away from his master, the master was running after him. And the cow was galloping on top of an embankment, and then all of the sudden took a dive for the road. And the cow was definitely bigger and stronger than the two of us on the motorcycle, so if we were to collide, the cow would have won. So, Jayson laid on the gas, and I could feel the cow’s breath on my back as we cruised by. Well done Jayson.

Tonight we had the Freedom Firm volunteers over - a lovely bunch of girls if I do say so myself. The volunteers that come over must commit to at least three months. They work day in and day out with the girls. Some of them also have come to work in the Horse Therapy program. One of the extra bonuses (or is it bonus), anyway, let’s go with bonuses, is that my kids always love all the volunteers. It’s one of their favorite nights of the week. I feel grateful, on so many levels, for these and all the past volunteers that have come to work with Freedom Firm.

The wonderful Freedom Firm volunteers.