Need a job?

 

We are sure that you could get a job translating into english in many places here. In the meantime get this cereal, it will make you all you ever wanted to be.

 

Our second weekend in Delhi we got to meet up Papa Watters. He was heading to Calcutta for business and came thru Delhi when we were there. We went to the Delhi Zoo. We were so thankful to have a great breeze that day while we explored all the animals, caged and un-caged.

 

I haven't gotten an Indian version of a baby carrier here yet so we all traded holding the 20-something pounder. I am wanting an Indian one cause I am hoping that it is more heat friendly. We shall see...

 

Arwyn is couting all the storks up in that tree. We told her he tale of the stork, after she imagined how the baby got from my tummy to the stork to our doorstep, she decided she didn't beleive us.

 

I caught this smile before the "my legs hurt" declarations started coming. Behind him are "Barking Deer". We didn't hear a peep from them, maybe they were allbarked out for the day.

Gratitude Tuesday?

OK, so I am a rebel. Whenever there is an expectation on me I fight to meet it. Whenever there are rules or structure, something in me rebels against it. You might wonder what it is I am talking about. Gratitude Monday, the day in which I write down all the things I have been grateful for in the previous week. I started it on a Saturday, go figure and am doing my next entry on a Tuesday. It just didn't work out yesterday.... (I tell myself). And yes, I put the expectation on myself that I am pushing against. I know, I am crazy.

But my saving grace is that for most of the people in the world that I know that read this, it's still Monday. It's Tuesday morning here in India but Monday night to you. I was just reading a precious book of mine Keep Breathing, written by J's Aunt. The chapter was on Gratitude. Interestingly enough it was after the chapter on Grief. God has been teaching me about the relationship between grief, brokeness, and gratitude this last week in my QT. I have been really enjoying it. And this morning after my reading I am compelled to contemplate all those things that I am so grateful for.

First off, I was thinking about my friend who I got this idea from. A few years ago she had a baby boy that didn't make it past two days old. Today she has had another little bundle of joy and is pregnant with her first little girl. It's amazing to me that she has not only "survived" such a horrible thing but is thriving and being used by God in great ways. I started thinking of my two little ones I lost, how old they would be, what they would be like. Longing comes into my heart for that beautiful day I will meet them. Then gratitude comes next. I have Evangeline to hold and cuddle and enjoy. I appreciate her to a depth that I didn't even know about when Arwyn and Malachi were babies. I appreciate them too. I hold them, say I love you, say I am sorry, play games, read, look in on them while they are sleeping, ask them what they are thinking and feeling, rub there back at nightime, all a little more.

I am grateful for how this move is going to change me. I know because of this it will be painful to return home, as a favorite song says "the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I have learned, those roads were closed off to me while my back was turned." But painful as it may be, I am already thankful for the way in which I get to depend on God more deeply than I did in my comfortable California life. I am learning more about him, and getting so many opportunities to "die to myself".

Speaking of "dying to myself", I came across this quote that was a little smack in the face that I am grateful for. " Irritability is immaturity of character. If you are subject to being cross and unpleasant with others for no apparent reason, you need to come face-to-face with the fact that you are thinking too much of yourself. After all, your feelings are not the most important thing in this world.” I keep it on my desktop to remind me several times a day. Cause I do get a little self absorbed several times a day, ok most of it.

I am thankful for my husband that holds the "breakfast screaming child" and feeds her so that I can eat a warm breakfast. It is such a great way to start off a mother's day. He does this every morning at the expense of a warm breakfast for himself. He sets such a great example for me of being selfless, and consistantly so.

I am grateful for my 4 year old ( whose age we are reminded of daily) son's desire to hug me and come asking for a back rub to get his Mama's touch. I am tempted to complain about this one. He no longer accepts my kisses because my "germs" grose him out intensly. We are still working on his hypocracy, he will pick ANYTHING up off the ground to inspect it.

I am so grateful for Arwyn's desire to hang out with me. This may not always be the case, but she comes up to me at least a few times a day and says " do somthing with me mom, lets play a game or color together." She even likes to match me in dress. How long will I have this pleasure?

And even though it sends a little "ping" to J's heart, I am grateful that whenever Vange is not with me she reaches out for me and says "Mama?"

I am thankful for the invention of mosquito repellent. Or we would all be covered from head to toe in something resembling chicken pox. And trying desperately not to itch ourselves into Malaria or Denge Fever.

I am thankful for our new friend that is finding us a place to live and his son who is helping J get hooked up with cell phones. Who knew that God had such an important and busy person in mind for our first friend here, the Grand Mufti.

I am so thankful that the traffic here is not as crazy as other Indian cities, because most likely My hubby will be getting a motorcycle to get around town. And I won't fear him getting crunched my a rickshaw or bus.

And lastly I am so thankful for God's word that is alive and powerful in the lives of it's readers and followers. What a blessing to have a resource to get direction and encouragement and fresh stimulation from! And God's spirit that helps show us scripture in fresh ways.

Gratitude

Endings are for gratitude, beginnings are for faith. - Piper
This was at the beginning of a letter Josiah wrote recently right after we left America. That was how we both felt. Then. Now, we are in India.

There is dust everywhere, I can't communicate with anyone. I have no friends here. I couldn't get around even if I tried. No, now I feel the losses more. I ache for the coast. The fresh air. To communicate, to anyone really. In my own language. To see the smile of a friend. The little things that made Sacramento my home. Especially at this time of year. When all my friends are blogging about Fall. The leaves turning bright auburn and orange, and floating down to the ground. The crisp clean air. The trips to apple hill. Sipping a "London Fog" at Prince St. with Marlene. Going to Bishops Pumpkin farm with Grandma and Grandpa to pick out our perfect pumpkins. Apple butter and home made jam. I am mourning the loss of Fall. I am feeling like Endings are for loss, not for gratitude.

And even more, I am mourning the loss of my home. Someday this will be my home. But now I am a foreigner in a strange land. I am feeling the loss in my life and seeing how totally weak I am. I am completely dependant on Him. This morning while bringing my heart to Him I saw clearly that this chapter, however long it will be is me being refined in the fire. But as my favorite song says "You walk with me through fire, and heal all my disease." And God's Spirit, in his loving kindness, brought me to my friend Jessica's blog this evening and then to this quote."Calvin claimed that prayer is 'a discipline by which our weakness is exercised and stimulated.'If that is the case, cannot our lives become a prayer? If we are continually weak, may we not become prayers unceasing?"

I am continually weak and in the fire. I am finding that unending prayer is my only hope. My only hope that my heart will not become bitter from the losses. My only hope that I will not be lost in the fire, but found. And in my prayers to find a place for gratitude. To turn from dwelling on what I have lost to what I have gained. To look for His beauty in my surroundings, circumstances and see that He is lavishly loving me. Even now. Even here.

“Somehow, in the midst of our mourning, the first steps of the dance take place. Somehow, the cries that well up from our losses belong to our songs of gratitude.” - Henri Nouwen
And this gratitude needs to be a practice, a habit. A choice that surpasses my feelings and emotions. It's not Monday, it's Saturday. But I will begin this journey of gratitude now and count the multitude of blessings that I have and am grateful for. And come Monday, I am sure to have more:

little hands that pull on my kurta, feet that crawl into my lap, little lips that say "book?"

peanut butter and Nutella "sandwich" on Nan for dinner

the gentle breeze that met me this morning, officially becoming my first day in India that I did not sweat

for the fire that produces a faith "of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire"

So for me, Endings are for loss and gratitude, beginnings are for continued gratitude and faith.

The Market

I haven't pooped in 24 hours! I think I pooped enough in the last 48 hours before that to make me good for awhile. The day before we left Varnasi, Jos and baby and I partook of a veggie burger with some fresh veg on it and reeked havoc on our bodies. The onset of culture shock happens quicker when you are sick and exhausted. I wasn't too happy with India, it's food, its thievery, and it's 8 pm marching bands behind my hotel wall when I am trying SKYPE. But God in his grace took me to the market today with my friend Terri and I was back in love with the culture again (and food for that matter.)

I wish I had my camera to take all the amazing pictures that are flashing around in my head, but I already had my water bottle (for re hydration of the 2 days prior), a snack and my cell in my hands. So after hopping on the metro (9 rupees) to go maybe 5 minutes (3 stops down) we got off at INA market where they have anything and everything you could possibly need, my first stop was a bag/purse of some sort.

THE BAG- Being that I hadn't bartered in a few years I felt a little rusty and a little timid, but it didn't take long. Terri hated bartering and so she usually paid whatever price they said, with usually is the "tourist" price which I cannot bear to succumb to. I am sure that I am still paying a bit more than the average Indian but still a smashing deal in American standards. He quoted a little less than $4 for this great, well made, durable bag that I spotted. I bartered down to $2.50. Then I found this little jute looking handbag that had pink ribbon sewn through it for Arwyn, it was $1. I didn't try going down in price for that, it really was a great deal.

THE CHICKENS- Terri needed some cumin so we paid a visit to her spice guy. They had all kinds of spices, lentils and nuts. She got her kilo of ground cumin and a pack of dried peas and off we went to the meat area. You know you are entering the "butcher section" because the ground beneath you is wet and slippery; and it smells like a combo of raw fish,chicken, and mutton. She talked to me about how you order and the process it goes through before it's ready for your bag. THIS IS AN EYE WITNESS ACCOUNT: To the left is a row of freshly plucked and cleaned chickens ready for purchase with a man sitting over them shooing the flies away. Below him is a pile of dead "fully clothed" chickens on the ground. To the right of them are three stacks of cages with live chickens all conspiring about what "chicken heaven" will be like. And then there is the man. The man has a chicken in his left hand, wings folded back in his fist. He grabs the head and pulls it back into his left hand as well and with his right hand grabs a long serrated knife. In the next second he slits the neck and positions the chicken over some type of bucket to let it drip out before it gets boiled briefly for plucking. In that split second I was slightly disturbed. Maybe it was my recovering tummy, maybe it was the non-chalant way in which the chicken had a voice, then was silenced forever; or maybe my son gets his animal loving nature from me and not his father. Either way we quickly made our way back to the clothing section. (and when I returned home to tell Josiah of my adventures, the chicken story was met with "So?", what did I expect a village Mexican boy to give me? sympathy?) At least I know I will be getting the freshest ingredients.

THE SHOES- WE ducked into the first shoe booth we could find. I was desperate to find something I liked after all I had the same shoes on for the last 2 weeks and they were slippery when wet, casual and dirty. Someone in Delhi is enjoying my other sandals along with my other beloved suitcase treasures. (ARGH!)So we came in and sat down and Iquickly discovered I wear a size 40 shoe in India. They don't do wide so you have to look for a wide style shoe. They pulled out 5 or 6 pairs of shoes in every color they had and I found myself jumping into the experience. "I don't like it, can I try that in black?", "that's to itchy". "how much are these?"," I only want 2", "no thank you", "here is your money", "no more please", and on and on. I think I had to rescue Terri cause she was way to sweet to NOT look at the shoes they kept bringing her after she had paid. "Did you pay already?", She shook her head yes, and I said "no more" as I stood to go with her behind me.

THE FITTING- I am looking for a few extra Kurtas (longer shirts) but am open to getting just the fabric if I come across something I love. Another Westerner gave me great advice last week: when you find something you love, get it cause it won't be there when you get back. I gaze over the material a little too long and so we are ushered into the underground scene, beneath the shelves of material. We sit and something like the shoe scene unfolds again. But this time instead of two men helping there are 5. Throwing out fabric like you wouldn't believe. About two minutes into it they already have a pile of material they think I like based on the looks I have on my face. When I finally decide on one set of material already picked out to match for pants, top and "Dupata" (scarf) they are shocked to discover that I am just getting the one and not their pile. But they succeed in talking me into getting it "stitched" right here and not later. "I only have 1 hour, no time" " 3 hours for you." "No I am leaving in 1 hour" "2 hours, very fast", "Sorry I can't" " 1 hour ready in 1 hour". I look at Terri and she mumbles, "that's a good price". I think "yeah, but that's an Indian hour not an American hour". I give in and the Male seamstress stops helping the Indian ladies and comes to measure me. I emphasize over and over that I want the bust and armpits and shoulders all very loose, not the way they like to make and wear shirts here. So now we have an hour to kill. We wander towards the kitchen things.

STAINLESS STEEL- this mainly will come in a later post as I am excited to make my new home even more "Green" friendly than any previous home. I have learned alot from Terri about how to minimize the toxins in our home. One thing they have TONS of here and I love it, is stainless steel. Cups, plates, cookware and so on. I can't wait to come back and stock up on my household items.

THE PUNJABI MAN- We passed by his booth at first but I quickly remembered that a Mother cannot come back with a gift for one child and not the other, at least not if she has a son who loves little gifts. So we turned around and walked in to the "trinket booth". Surinder was an elderly man who spoke a little English but charmed his way into our hearts. He shook our hands, "welcome, welcome". I quickly picked out a "Tom and Jerry" pencil pouch for Malachi and a Rubik cube (each 10 cents) to finally test my doctors report of his genius brain. Before I could pay he asks "have a half cup of chai with me?" I look questioningly at Terri and she agrees. So we look around in his tiny but very full booth. Paper, folders, notebooks, pencils, pens etc. ETC. Terri looks for Pokemon "something" for her son who is a fan. When Surendir returns from ordering our chai, I nudge her to ask him if he has any Pokemon stuff, (there isn't possibly enough time to look through his stacks of things herself). To which he responds " Pokemon is OLDSCHOOL, this cartoon over here is the latest." That was pretty funny coming from an elderly Punjabi man that speaks broken English. Our tea is delivered by a midget Indian man and we sit and drink to our scalding tongues delight. Where do we live? Where are we from? When will we come back to market? Will we come and have breakfast with him next week on our morning trip? "Make me very happy, please." Terri says "I will remember that." Nice non-committal answer. He then says that I look like a foreigner but Terri doesn't. He takes her hand and kisses it and says you are a special friend. I detect that he is a sweet harmless old man and I ask "what about me?" to which he promptly answers, "she is married, you are not". WHAT?! " I am married!" see I hold out my ring finger which doesn't seem to faze him much, Terri says in my defense "she has three children!" Many more invitations and "Shukria"s " (thank you's) later we saunter out of his booth and over to retrieve my newly "stitched" Salwar Camis.

THE END- We return 5 minutes early to hear "5 minutes", of course those are Indian minutes so we hop over to the jewelry booth across the walk and I find Arwyn a glass bracelet (which is currently broke in the trash in our bathroom much to her dismay) and I pick out a toe ring, only for married women, to ensure that the next Punjabi man that calls me friend and gives me chai doesn't misunderstand and think I am not not "safe". We hop back over to retrieve my order and sit down on the bench. "Sari for the lady?" the men start showing Terri their pictures of women in Saris (the sophisticated outfit of choice for Hindu women in India). She is not interested for today but we need some entertainment while we wait. And entertainment it was. She asks about the rumored "ready made" saris that all you have to do is snap and its on instead of the intricate folding technique. And soon two men are on the platform in front of us, one helping the other put the ready made sari on. I'm sorry, I can't help my laughter. Terri holds it together and asks away. But in the end I have to say "Looks beautiful on you!" And the sari wearing man cracks a timid smile. 2o minutes later we walk out of the Material booth and head back to the metro , the "Ladies only car" I might add. Very nice.

I wonder what adventures our new home have in store for me...

Arwyn: If I hear "No" one more time that will be it!

Varanasi

 

This is the city where we spent 5 days at a language camp getting our tools to learn Urdu in our new home.

In Delhi

 

This was a pic of our first Indian meal. Chicken Biriyani (my fav) although this particular chef was quite fond of whole peppercorns, Butter Chicken (like a sweet red curry), and fried chicken ( never had fried chicken this good), Non (the breadlike stuff at the bottom), and Daal (Arwn's fav). We try to have one Indian meal a day to et used to it. My Wonderful Husband ordered pizza hut tonight to give my acid reflux and my bowels a break from it. His wonderfulness even brought home two pints of Baskin Robins for us to enjoy later!

 

This is the bathroom here at the Hamilton Lodge. You have your standard bucket and pitcher for a "bucket-bath". I had forgotton all about these till a few days before our move and I was not looking fwd to it so much. But I have decided I like it even more than USA showers. I can sit and bathe, which is largely the reason why I don't take as many showers as I should these last few years cause I am too tored to go stand in a shower when I have a break. Water pressure isn't an issue for how log it takes to rinse out your shampoo, the amount of water dumped over your head can usually get it all out in two dumps. And lastly it conserves ALOT of water.

 

The kids and I started a fun way of helping them process this new and interesting home of there's. They each have an "observation journal" . After a ride through the city in a rickshaw or a walk down to the local market we talk about what they observed and then they draw a picture of it. I am hoping that it will draw our attention to any negative feelings or stress that we can help them "air out" and also help them learn how to communicate what they might be feeling. It will also be a good keepsake years down the road.

pillow pets

 

This post was a bit overdue but PRAISE THE LORD I HAVE A NEW COMPUTER! and now I am catching up...well as long as this Indian wireless connection keeps up.

Malachi's long awaited puppy pillow pet was recieved when he reached "of age" wich would be 4. And the girls got one too, here they are with there dolphin, unicorn, and puppy in the Hamilton Lodge in Dehli our first night in India.

Our first 5 rules in India, Malachi-ism

We are here in dehli, the first stop in our new life here in India. And after we crashed for a few hours in our hotel room we woke, ate breakfast and took a walk to a local grocery store, that was closed. So we walked across the street to a park looking place. When I read the sign it said that it was actually a tomb of a famous Sufi saint (a religous leader in sufi Islam). The grass was nice and inviting, especiallly for a little 4 year boy that wants to run, jump and play. But we got the feeling that it was not to be treaded apon, especially since grass is sparce here, and no one else in the park was on the grass. As we walked I asked questions of two of the oldest travelers:

Me:"what here is different than the USA?"
Arwyn: "the busy streets and all the horn honking"
Mal: didn't know

Me:"what here is the same?"
Arwyn:"its a little bit hot here and sometimes hot in California"
Mal:"the dragonflies here are the same as the USA"

And there you have it, todays first discoveries as seen by our children. Later when we returned back to our room we drew in our journal something we saw on our walk. Malachi drew,as best he could, a picture of a boy that was taking a bucket bath right by the street in front of his one bedroom shack. Arwyn drew a picture of the tall buildings. Later she wrote a letter to her friend Reese about the little girl that lived in that shack that had no shoes and swept the trash off there "porch", an area in the dirt next to her house. When we stopped off to Cafe Coffee Day (the local Starbucks) for a treat, we talked about all the barefoot people here. Arwyn thinks we should give them all our shoes. I asked her if we had enough shoes for all the people? what if we don't a have any after that? what about when they grow out of them? how do we pick who to give them to? would giving our shoes away make them more happy? were they still happy even if they didn't have shoes? and so on...We ended with deciding to ask God if he wants us to give our shoes to people and which ones should we them give to. We will wait to hear what He says to us.

They have seemed to learn to drown out the constant noise of honking out our window, but some other lessons might take a little while to learn. Our first five rules are:

1 only drink bottled water (even when using water to brush teeth)
2 don't flush your used toilet paper ( put it in the trash can)
3 don't talk loudly when asking our questions or stating our opinions on life here
4 don't pick things up off the ground, or don't touch the walls every where we go
5 try every new food at least once, with a smile



stay tuned for our next adventure...