A Picture is Worth 1000 Words (or 50 rupees)

There is a large slum within a mile of my home.  I am fascinated by it.  It's right by my bank (actually right next door).  Whenever I drive by, I see very small children playing happily in the dirt, with the dogs roaming and the teenagers gathered in groups, women cooking or washing, and men lounging.  There are cows or bulls or camels.  One day I asked my driver to stop so I could get out and take some pictures.  I was quickly approached by two men wanting to know what I was doing.  I asked if I could photograph the cows.  He seemed to agree and tried to draw me into the slum.  So I walked over the rocks and rubble, making Sushil very nervous.  A toothless man then approached me to ask what I was doing.  He gave me permission to photograph some bulls, but the atmosphere was growing tense.  I took my photos, showed them to the toothless man, then went back to the car.  I asked Sushil to pull forward another 30 metres because I spotted the above bull and wanted a picture.  This time I did not get out of the car.  I saw the men approaching quickly again, so snapped my pictures.  At that point, they rushed the car window, the tough one explaining that it was his bull and I needed to give him money for food.  I decided it wasn't worth a fight, especially if I wanted to ever come back, So handed him 50 rupees for the animal's "feed."  I know it won't feed the bull, or even the children.  But I think 50 rupees got me a very nice photograph that I have enlarged and hung in my home.

I can't decide which one I like best, the edited photo above or the raw one below.  What do you think?

I'm Back, Ready to Go, Ready to Grow

I haven't blogged in nearly two months.  I think it was a combination of India overwhelming me, multiple bouts of illness in our house, including a very bad Dengue scare, and the holidays in England where my laptop was stolen.  Without my laptop, I've not written much, because I'm stuck with my old Dell that makes the cursor jump all over the place mid-typing, often off the document entirely.

On December 20th, we left for Mumbai to fly to London for the holidays with family.  Our driver, Sushil, drove us to the airport and the kids were very sad to leave him.  He's become like a big cousin to them.

 We flew on a very long flight with very tired kids, followed by a very long wait at the rental car place after a mess at the airport ground transportation area, followed by a very long drive to our rental house in the Cotswolds.  

But we arrived to be greeted by the kids' Nana and Granddad Chris, Uncle John and Aunt Sarah with cousins Amelia, Max and Lewis, Unky Mike and Aunt Jenny!  The Christmas season finally had begun.

The house we rented was great.  It was an old farmhouse on 5 acres with 2 indoor swimming pools, a playhouse, trampolines (with silly rules) and beautiful Christmas lights lit every night.  There were plenty of rooms, with Nana and Granddad staying in a little cottage a 2 minute walk away on the property.  Grace and Amelia (barely 6 weeks younger) shared a room, George and Alex shared one, Aunt Sarah and Uncle John had the twin boys in with them, Chris and I had a room and Unky Mike and Aunt Jenny each had little single rooms.  It worked out so well.  We spent the next few days swimming in the mornings, exploring in the evenings, seeing a Panto together, and visiting a beautiful cathedral nearby.  It was a lot of people in one house, a lot of chaos, a lot of noise, and a lot of love.

The kids did show how well they've acclimated to the Indian climate, because we could hardly get them outside in an English winter without complaints of freezing to death.  I loved the cold!  And it was really wonderful to wear my boots again.

Santa came and brought some fun gifts, and the family gave our kids WAY too much,  I realized that the kids really loved opening the first 3 gifts.  They were excited and wanted to play with each thing.  But after the 3rd, it turned into a frenzy of "what next?" "What's for me?" "Are there more for me?" and it was no longer fun.  Lesson learned.  Gifts are much more appreciated when there are fewer of them.  I hope someone will remind me of this next year before Christmas.  Chris and I also realized that we have been spoiling the kids with things to help make up for the chaos and confusion and extra difficulties our move to India brings to their lives.  They get far more sweets, toys and even soda than they were ever allowed before.  This too we are now trying to cut down on.

Alex's new R2D2 robot

Grace's baby Ella-a life sized, weighted baby

Chris' Trumpster suit(as tacky as they come)

George playing with his Lego Mindstorms EV3-he built 3 different robots in the first 2 days

One highlight of our Cotswolds Christmas was visiting Santa and a real Fairy Princess at the Bird and Deer Park.  The kids fed the reindeer, enjoyed the Christmas lights, and got to see Santa and tell him what they wanted.  And we got some great photos, of our kids with Santa, of our kids and Amelia with Santa, and of all of us together with Santa.

One afternoon we toured Tewkesbury Abbey.  It was just below freezing outside and we'd gone for a wander.  The Abbey was such a welcoming place (though not warm).  We enjoyed walking around and looking at the architecture and tombs and sculptures.  It is a beautiful place with a strong sense of history.  One of the big War of the Roses battles was fought right on the back lawn, and hundreds died there.  The sensation of that history is very strong.  A parish priest was there, and as it was quite empty, she walked around with us when she sensed it was welcome, and answered interesting and complicated questions from my non-religious children.  She was so warm and open, and showed us things we would not have seen otherwise.  She pointed out a fossil in the stone floor and the masons' marks on the pillars.  George did a scavenger hunt searching for letters to unscramble by finding stars hidden throughout the Abbey.  Alexander had a lot of very direct questions about a man bleeding and why was he killed and what is God anyway?  I was very pleased and impressed by the priest's responses.  She exuded such warmth that when we left and thanked her and told her her warmth was so profound I felt I loved her.  While it may have been an odd thing to say, she seemed truly touched.

On December 27th, we left the Cotswolds and headed to Hitchin to stay with Grammy Karen and Granddad Ray.  We spent the rest of our holiday with them.  Our second day there, they threw a party so we were able to see more Aunts and Uncles, cousins and friends.  Uncle Jonny and Aunt Becca were there, plus any others.  We had some time to explore Hitchin, get my hair colored, get the boys haircuts at the Turkish Barbershop we like, have a meal out and just spend quality time with Grammy and Granddad and the kids' Great Grandma Joyce, "GiGi."  The trip was wonderful and exhausting, and on January 4th we headed back to India.

We flew into Mumbai and checked into the Marriott at Juhu beach when we arrived in the middle of the night.  I started to feel extremely bad on the flight and by the time we arrived at the hotel I felt truly ill.  I spiked a fever during the night, in addition to vomiting and diarrhea.  Such a nice welcome home!  I could not get up in the morning, I was so weak, so Chris took the kids down to breakfast and got everything packed up.  I was able to get up around 1 pm for a very late checkout, then spent the next 4 hours absolutely miserable as we drove across the mountains for 4 hours from Mumbai to Pune.  I rode in the front seat and barely opened my eyes.  I was focusing entirely on not vomiting, or worse, and when we got home I went straight to bed and didn't emerge for 48 hours when my fever finally broke.

Talk about a welcome back to India.  Here we go again-ready, set, go!