Crazy About the Man in My Kitchen

"So hey, what's goin' on?"

Yesterday I was floating. Dancing through my house with an effortless pirouette, a whoop of joy and near tears. I was crazy about the man in my kitchen - the washing machine repair man. Let me say this first. I am super grateful for a washing machine in a land where most of the population uses a stone and river to wash. That being said, when some major appliance konks out on me here, I turn into the mad character out of a horrible cartoon. Because it takes daily phone calls, begging, and sometime raising my voice to bring them to my house. And after three weeks of hauling the bare minimum of laundry around to friend’s houses - my washing machine is fixed. Not big news for most, but this mother of four in a land where it takes over two hours to do just one load of wash, I am blissfully happy. And I could not have been more content to switch out my laundry all day long, then letting the 7,000 meter altitude and close proximity to the equator dry my clean laundry in mere seconds.

On to other news - just to keep the bits and pieces from the day rolling... Sydney’s preschool class has been studying “night”. Syd’s teacher asked her on Tuesday, “What does Mommy do with you before going to bed?” Her answer was not reading, cuddling, singing, kisses, back scratches or prayers... It was “My mommy rummages in my hair for nits (as in lice) every night”. Sweet. Now, it’s not every night. Probably weekly though. One needs to keep on top of those things. After comments like that, I wonder if there is any hope in trying to control any sort of legacy or memories that my children have about me.

And there she is.

Today at Lost Kilos one the gals celebrated her one year anniversary of being in Lost Kilos. Collectively, my Thursday afternoon crew, which is an average of six women, have lost 30 kgs, which is roughly 70 lbs. Way to go! I am so proud of them.

This past weekend was Freedom Firm’s Annual Retreat. The staff from Pune came down and we met at a retreat center about 45 minutes down the mountain. It was a truly fantastic weekend; a necessary weekend for the staff. Instead of me chatting about it, I think I’ll share with you a note from one of the Pune Social Workers:

“Dear Jayson, I want to tell you a big thank you for making this retreat enjoyable with having Denny, lot of time to know the people, fun games, and a beautiful place. Indeed Brookland is a cooool place to have a retreat. Thanks to Tarrah for the yummy food that she had baked for us and got. God bless you and your family! Jeremy is remembering you all and missed meeting you all on the retreat.”







Cute. I mentioned our friends Denny and Pat - the retreat speakers, parents of my friend Sarah, and friends from our church in Minnesota - in the last blog. To put it lightly, it was oh so great to have them here. I feel like in this corner of the world we are put in a bit of a bubble. Not many resources in the way of new voices, different ways of looking at things, and encouragement. So personally, as a family and as an organization, I think we all got a sort of spring cleaning. We’re a bit shinier, running more efficiently, and springing back in the work of anti-trafficking with more zeal. Thanks friends.

Hey, in closing, I do want to sound the bugle and say, "Happy March Madness!" I'm on nine years of filling out the March Madness brackets among our families, and I think I've won just about every year. I'm not saying that to gloat, it's just the truth. So, if anyone wants to challenge me, this is all I'll say. "Bring it on."

Grosser Than Gross

Biker Chick.

Be prepared to witness something grosser than gross. I am sorry to have to show you this, but I would really like to hear a collective groan of disgust across the globe. Are you ready?

Sick right?

This fly tape was put up two days ago. It’s in our kitchen. I cannot tell you how utterly grossed out I am. The flies are horrible. I keep a pretty tidy kitchen, try to mind the crumbs... but alas, I am harboring about a ka-gillion flies at the present moment. And I am a bit nervous because their number is only supposed to escalate until the mango season, which is in May - June. What am I going to do people? Please, if you have any ideas, share them. I am presently trying to devise some serious covert missions into the land of flies.

Well, we survived Delhi. And much to my surprise, it was a seamless trip filled with pleasant experiences and zero drama. Can you believe it? I was kind of waiting all weekend for something bad to happen. I was seriously surprised on how much I liked Delhi. Now, mind you, I was there for 48 hours, and saw only a few parts. But what I saw, was quite... how do I put it... dreamy. I can’t really believe that I said it. This is what made it great. First, it was so fun to celebrate Alum and Alan. She looked beautiful, him dashing, and they are in love... Second, Ani and I had space to just be -without the other three lovingly clamoring for our attention. Third, simple things like highways, McDonald’s, watching American Idol and a bagel with cream cheese. Ani said it best when we were heading to the airport... “Highways and McDonald’s, what a treat.”

The recently opened Delhi Airport. My new crush.

The wedding itself was fairly similar to what you would expect at a wedding in the West. The most noticeable difference was the amount of pictures each guest took. I would have to guess each guest took at least 50 pictures, probably more like 500. And there were 300+ guests. There was a serious photo shoot after the ceremony with all the wedding guests - all of these Ani was a part of. And everybody wanted a picture with her. I felt like her personal assistant. Fluffing her hair, bringing her water, fixing her flowers, letting people know when they can take pictures and then when it was time for them to move along. My dad emailed me a story of a wedding in Delhi that same weekend of a couple who brought a male elephant to their wedding (Click here to read the story). Hindus believe that it brings good luck. Anyway, the elephant was in heat and saw/smelled (whatever they do) a female elephant in a nearby field and in the process, which took over 15 hours, crushed 20 cars and damaged nearby shops. Yikes. I would love to have witnessed that.

Ani is in her element as "one of the girls" as Alum gets ready.

One of the ka-gillion pictures at the photo shoot.

This is Chon, Tour Guide Extraordinaire/Alum's Cousin.

I have to take a moment to wish my grandma a happy 80th birthday. I wish I was there to celebrate. My grandma is a strong and dedicated grandmother - and I miss her.

Next Thursday marks the start of the Freedom Firm retreat. Last year this was Jayson’s first project. It seems like yesterday - generic words, but so true. We welcome 51 staff and family to the retreat. Do you remember my friend Sarah that came last October? Well, her folks are coming to lead our sessions. We went to the same church and Jayson and I highly respect them. When we were making the decision to come here, they were one of the first people that we sought wisdom from. So, it’s go time, having them here.

Kind of a Crazy Week

That's our well in the background. Dry. Hence, the water truck.

Did you notice the name of the water supply company? $100 if you pronounce it right the first time.

And 30 minutes later, we can shower again.

I just finished packing. Ani and I are heading up to Delhi tomorrow morning. I think the correct name is New Delhi, but I have never heard anyone here use the “New” part. I think it was added when India became independent from the mother ship of Britain. They probably got tired of renaming everything and just stuck New on the front of it and called it a day. That’s what I would have done. Not that anyone asked for my opinion. I don’t even think my dad was born when independence happened, so I guess I can forgive India for not asking me. I actually do not think anything I just said was accurate at all. And I can’t check any of my facts because our internet is down. But I will leave it in print and you all can weigh in on all my inaccuracies. I am used to being corrected.

Anyway, getting back to my original intent of talking about Delhi, we are going up for a wedding. One of Freedom Firm’s social workers is getting married and Ani is her flower girl. Cute. I have no idea what to expect from the wedding. It’s not a “traditional” Indian wedding. Alum and her fiance are from Monipour (again, I cannot check the spelling, b’c I do not have internet, I am sure that is a total misspelling), Monipour is in the little part of India that juts out past Bangladesh. People from Monipour have a look all their own. Much more Asian features. They are also very western. Alum told me that a 100+ years ago a missionary from the States brought Christianity to their state and I am pretty sure that it is in the only state in India that would consider itself Christian. Anyway, I know you are all wondering what I will be wearing. I know I was yesterday, when I called Alum and asked her what I am supposed to wear. And she said, “my best.” Little does she know that “my best” is a pair of jeans without stains and shirt that I got from Jayson’s mom for Christmas that I haven’t worn yet, because I never dress up. When people say “your best” there are no absolutes, it’s on a sliding scale. I know I will be underdressed, it’s my life calling to be the most underdressed person at every event. There is a lot of adventure to be found this weekend. I hear Delhi is crazy. Ani and I are ready to paint the city red. The people of Delhi won’t know what hit them.

What’s been happening around here, you ask? Well, I think we are fairly healthy after two weeks of lame stomachs - also called Delhi belly or Ooty booty. I liken the belly ick to the Minnesota common cold in the winter. Except smellier. To bad you can’t have a cold and the belly ick at the same time so you wouldn’t have to smell the issues at hand. I will see what I can do about that.

Ooh, Ooh, big news around here. We only have one dog. Not so much FOUR anymore. On Saturday the dogs went to a tea estate in Coonoor to take on guard dog duties. Hip, hip hurray! And - well actually, this one happened about a month ago - the cook that came with house, Shankar, found other employment. He does come one day a week still. He has been working at our home for so long that it was hard for him to leave completely, so we asked him if he could work just one day a week for us. It’s a win all the way around.

It was kind of a crazy week with the Aftercare girls. It’s hard to know what to say about it all. Let’s just say that crisis and set-backs are inevitable when working with any sort of trauma victims. FF has an incredible staff, ready to lay down their lives for these girls. And I am so grateful and humbled by their efforts with these girls.

Okay, I am going to sign off soon. But I did want to leave you with a long recipe for Mushroom Biryani. There were a few of you out there that have requested a Biryani recipe. Mushroom Biryani is my absolute favorite. So, when Shankar came to cook on Wednesday, I documented his mad chef skills for you all. I dare you all to try it. Your taste buds will thank you.

Step One:

Prepare all vegetables.

Dice: one bunch coriander (cilantro)

3 medium sized red onions

3 medium sized tomatoes

Step Two:

Heat an obscene amount of oil - probably an inch in the bottom of pan

Saute onions until nice and carmel brown

When onions are done, put a palm size amount of cinnamon stick, biryani leaves, cardamom. anise stars and 3 whole green chilis. Let sit for 5 minutes.

Step Three:

Make Garlic/Ginger paste (take 1/2 cup whole garlic, 1/4 cup whole, pealed ginger, with a bit of water and pulse it in the blender until paste like).
Add garlic/ginger paste. Let sit for 5 minutes.

Step Four:

Add 16 oz. of whole button mushrooms and 1 1/2 cup water and 2 t. salt

Step Five:

Add 2 cups of uncooked rice, 1 bunch of coriander and tomatoes.

Step Six:

Add banana leaf leaves to the top of the Biryani. They call it dum. I have no idea if I am saying this right, let alone spelling it... Anyway, I have no clue on what this really does to the Biryani, all I know it that they put these huge leaves on top. Maybe you could put a piece of wax paper instead. The banana trees in the States are a bit sparse.

Step Seven:

Let this sit for about 30 - 45 minutes on low heat.

Final step, Enjoy!






Shankar:
Shankar showed me how to make this fantastic meal. In this photo he's working on "curd", which generally goes on top of the Biryani, but isn't necessary. Sorry I don't have that part of the recipe.

Writing a recipe is much harder than I would ever have imagined. Holy buckets. I hope the pictures help. You can ask questions, but I can pretty much guarantee that I will not know the answer. The only thing I am a bit confused on is the amount of water to add. There are two cups of rice, that would usually need to be cooked in 4 cups of water. But the only time I saw him add water was with the mushrooms. Hmm.... I have no idea. And again, I do not have internet to check out some other recipes.

We were reading bedtime stories the other night and Ani jumped up and said, "Spider! Big spider!" Tarrah immediately hid behind her hoodie (sweatshirt) and I looked over and saw it... a huge spider? See it in this picture?

How about now... see it yet?

There it is. Ani was right, really big.

To Get Some Stopper-Uppers

This kid hasn't seen a remote control or a couch for a year.

I have tried to write this blog entry several times now, being that it has been three weeks since I wrote last - and it is stunting me a bit. I prefer weekly musings. Three weeks seems like too much pressure. Usually I can babble a bit and get away with it, but now I feel a high need to be super efficient (and efficiency and I get along as well as oil and water) with my words, lest I bore you with too many details or miss something that will alter your life forever. Are you already feeling stressed out for me? I am. So, I am going to release myself from any pressure, I may babble, I may miss something... but yo, I am going to reward myself with chocolate after I am done - so the prize is great. Go Team!

So, my mom said to us a few months before she came, “Would you like me to take you guys to Goa (the beach) while I am there?” Umm, we thought about it for about a second. The second was spent tallying up how many vacation days Jayson had left, and why yes he did... “Yes Mom, take us on a warm, sandy, seafood-filled vacation!”

It's a long, hard day at the beach

The kids loved the balloon guy

Jovie's balloon flower

And balloon hat

And that it was. The first day on the beach was great fun, but we were bombarded, with people asking to take the kids’ photos. Like, every 3-5 minutes. And after a few hours, it gets really old. So, the next day we asked if there was a quieter beach close by... Our taxi driver took us about 30 minutes up the coast and when we got there, we gave a sigh a relief. Super quiet and it was in a cove, so the waves were manageable for the kids to play in. We were getting situated and I started noticing that there was a something interesting going on with some of the other beach goers - they were topless. Awesome. I mean not like awesome, it’s my dream to go to a topless beach with my kids and husband... but more like hmm, awesome. The beach in and of itself was so divine that we stayed for the next six hours. And just diverted our eyes here and there. Oh, the memories we have made.

Grandma's special birthday dinner (Sydney sure thinks it's impressive)

A truly souped-up cow

One of the reasons I haven’t written is because I have been busy. I haven’t been busy for a year. And I was (and still am) having a hard time managing anything outside of what is right in front of my face. My days have been the kind of days that you take a deep breath at the beginning of the day and say, “I have been given this day by God, and so I am not going to freak out by what lies ahead of me for the rest of the week, but just think and do my best today.” It didn’t always go as smoothly as that, but for the most part there were only a few freak out moments. I think my life was so crazy leading up to our move, that I really acquired the tool of not getting too far ahead of myself with details, because if I did, I would still be in the fetal position in Mpls...

I counted the other day... of the last 82 days, 62 of them we have had guests. Crazy, right? Especially since we live in India. It’s not like, Oh the Palms live in Paris, let’s take that trip we have always wanted to and visit them while we are there. It’s, The Palms live in India... Enough said. A few days before my mom left, my friend Betsie from college came for 10 days with her sister Ali, who is volunteering with Freedom Firm. Betsie left this morning. I haven’t spent consistent time with her since college. And oh my, a part of me came out that hasn’t been seen since college. It was great. I think the kids especially liked having her here, to witness crazy mommy. I cannot express to you how saturated with love we feel from all of our visitors.

Ani and James had their birthdays on the 12th and 14th of February. I now have a seven and a five-year-old. We partied hard this weekend. Remember me taking one day at a time, it really culminated when yesterday I woke up and said, “I have seven five-year-olds coming over in four hours for a birthday party, and I have no idea what I am going to do (oh, and sydney has a fever and all my kids have had the runs for a week, so we should all go to the doctor today to get some stopper-uppers)...” I think I am taking the living one day at a time a little too far, ya think?

Birthday joy

More birthday joy

James has informed us multiple times that he will one day marry Emma (sitting to his left in this photo)

It May Never Happen Again

Thanks Great Grandma for sending over my new dress with Grandma!

Get ready, hold on tight, gird your loins, for you are about to see the largest pot that has ever come into my kitchen.

Tarrah left, Rose Mary right, big pot front and center

Yeah right!, you say. Honestly, in my kitchen tonight. It may never happen again. The occasion for this large pot (which held Chicken Biryani) was a farewell party for one of Freedom Firm’s Social Workers, Rose Mary. Rose has been with FF for two years and has been a consistent, loving voice of truth for the girls in the Aftercare program. Rose is getting married to a gentleman that lived in her same town growing up, but now lives in the country of Oman. I have never known anybody to live there. I mean, I know people live there, but I have never known someone personally. Hurray for me, hurray for her, she is getting married to someone who lives in Oman.

Rose Mary's farewell party

James left, chocolate cake center, Gajar Ka Halwa right

A little insight into her marriage. Her upcoming marriage was arranged. I have read about arranged marriages before, sat by someone on a plane once that was going to go meet her husband for the first time, but again, never knew anyone personally that’s had an arranged marriage. And now I do. Big night for me. First it was the gigantic pot, then knowing someone from Oman, and then to top it off a good friend who has had an arranged marriage. It’s like I have won the lottery or something.

When I first moved here, I was walking home one day with someone I had just met at Jazzercise, Vidya. Vidya is from here and she asked me if I had a “love” marriage or an “arranged” marriage. What a funny question to ask. But come to find out, that most of the marriages here are arranged, from all sorts of religious backgrounds. The way that the parents decide do differ. Some use a matchmaker of sort, some use family connections, others use astrologers, etc... So, Rose, for example - her parents knew this other guy’s family, the families talked, they said if Rose and Robin meet and like each other, shwabam (sound effect), they’re engaged. So, Rose went down, about six months ago, to her home, Robin flew over, they met, talked - shwabam - engaged. Another friend (different story), who is actually a mom playing matchmaker, has her son’s astrology signs and matches it against the girl’s to see if they would be a match. She has gone through hundreds, and is becoming quite stressed about it. She asks me to pray for her, and I do.

I could go on and on about the subject, I find it fascinating. But I think I’ll turn the corner now. So, my mom is here. Hip, hip, hurray! Do you know what she brought in her suitcase, that got flagged by customs? Marijuana... Just kidding. A Honey Baked Ham... Not kidding. Yeah right!, you say (yet again), a Honey Baked Ham? I’ve known it for nearly 33 years - my mom (and dad) rocks! So, I am saving the Ham for Easter. My mom is up to her elbows in grandkids and cleaning/organizing my house - it’s her favorite place to be. And I am oh so grateful that she is here.

No Honey Baked Ham for James. Instead, the best present ever for a boy...a Nerf gun

Thanks, Dad, for holding down the fort while Mom's in India