I lost a little bit of steam last week and this week when my mom came to visit, but I'm trying to catch up on our India trip a bit.
After Madras, we flew to Delhi. We got there in the late afternoon, and it was a huge change. Where Madras was sticky, hot and tropical, Delhi was cool, dry and dusty. It was like leaving the jungle and entering Arabian Nights.
Ragsy was miserable on the drive to my husband's aunt and uncle's house. He screamed almost non-stop until he had guzzled no less than a half bottle of milk and two full bottles of water (yes, I tried to give him a cup; no, he wouldn't take it). He was delighted to be cooler and quieter when we got to the house and quickly began his attempts to destroy the flat, without much success.
After playing for a while and eating a little bit, he promptly passed out and had his first truly good night's sleep since we had gotten to India. The next day, we relaxed most of the morning then drove out to the country to someone's farm for a party. It was really nice - it was a catered affair outdoors with lots of younger kids, too, who played cricket on the lawn. It was oddly British feeling - sort of like having tea on the grounds. But at least Ragsy got an opportunity to relax and enjoy himself while playing in the dirt with other kids.
On the way back we stopped by Qutb Minar, which was absolutely beautiful at sunset. The next day, there was more putzing, then a stop by the India Gate. It was quite a while before we got back and the plan was originally to go to a New Year's Eve "bonfire" (which would probably have been like the country party), but Ragsy was too tired, so my husband, son and I sat it out while the adults went out, which was actually really nice. We got to relax, sleep and generally sit someplace quiet, which was the first time we'd had the opportunity for a week or so.
The day after that, we went to the Taj Mahal in Agra, which was just stunning. We managed to get into the Taj just before the gates closed at 5 p.m. and stayed until just after sunset. We got some absolutely beautiful photos, too, then went to a pretty decent place for dinner, then back to the hotel where we were staying, the Agra Club.
The Agra Club was an interesting place. It's supposed to be really exclusive and very hard to get a booking of any sort, but my husband's aunt knows a member who got us in for free. Which was very nice, but unfortunately, the Agra Club also has an issue with bedbugs (probably has something to do with the army-issue blankets they include in the hotel) and lots and lots of mosquitos. All of us slept fully clothed, but even though I slept in a pair of pants, socks, a shirt and fleece, I still got the crap bitten out of me. So did my son, though my husband seems to be impervious to bugs in India, particularly mosquitos. Anyway, we lubed up with Odomos, an industrial-strength mosquito repellant after that.
The next day, we went to Akbar's palace, Fatehpur, then to Salam Chisti's (one of Akbar's advisors) tomb. Both were absolutely spectacular, especially Fatehpur, which includes five palaces - one for each of Akbar's wives and one for Akbar himself. Salam Chisti's tomb was also gorgeous.
The next day, we started our drive back to Delhi, which took four or five hours. More putzing around, then we went shopping. The day after that there was more site-seeing, then more shopping, then an exhausted *flop* into bed. The day after that one we did even more site-seeing, then met one of uncle and auntie's sons for dinner.
Then the next day, it was off to Rajkot.
Lessons learned in Delhi:
Ragsy has a lot more stamina than even I realized. And he's a lot more patient. Even I was getting sick of being dragged around constantly by our ridiculously-energetic hosts, but Ragsy only had a problem when he was expected to sit down for dinner, which is usually not until after 9 p.m. and therefore way past his bedtime anyway.
I act older than I thought. See above regarding ridiculously-energetic hosts. Jeez - I'm half their age and already turning into an old fogey!
If you can make sure they're clean enough, roadside stands can have some really awesome food like puris and hot, sweet milk (which I really didn't care for, but wish I did because it had tons of sugar and spice in it).
Recycling in India is truly a way of life. Everyone reuses everything. And those things they don't reuse are often made out of biodegradeable material, like the cups and bowls used at the roadside stands, which are made out of clay (but not fired) and leaves, respectively.
Eating dinner early is a good thing. While I appreciate the freedom of eating a later dinner, it's just not worth it to my stomach or my sanity. The former gets upset by eating too much too late at night. The latter gets upset by my son, who screams when dinner is delayed so long and he's forced to stay up long enough to eat it.
So, there you go. Two more stops to go.
Wednesday, January 30, 2008
Wednesday, January 23, 2008
Madras
On the 26th, my husband, Ragsy and I headed for Madras. One thing you'll notice on any flight within India (or at least on Jet Airways within India) is that you get full meal service with real china, napkins and silverware, even if it's considered a "snack." And the food is really good, too. Meals include an entree served with rice and often chapatis, too, plus yogurt, dessert, and fruit or salad, along with After Mint, candy, water, juice and coffee or tea. Snacks contain everything but the yogurt and I still haven't figured out why they're considered snacks.
But I digress.
So, we got to Madras the afternoon of the 26th, found my husband's grandfather's driver and headed to my grandfather-in-law's (we'll call him Tata now - it's what we all call him and it's a heck of a lot easier) flat. The weather was much hotter than Bombay - probably low to mid 90's and very humid. Most people in Madras are shorter and much darker than in the middle of the country. Many descend from the Dravidians, whose origin is unknown.
When we arrived at Tata's, Ragsy was starting to get uncomfortable in the heat. My husband's Tata rarely uses air conditioning and it's only available in the bedrooms anyway, so we were all sweating a lot. Which was no big deal for me and my husband, but for Ragsy that was apparently a problem. From the moment we arrived at Tata's to the moment he went to sleep there was more or less non-stop screaming. Not only was he hot, my husband's Tata is deaf so everyone in the house more or less yells when they speak. It's actually quite funny in retrospect. All these people so excited to see my son, getting into his face, yelling their hellos and him shrieking, "Mommy!" Then they'd try to take him away to distract him, which didn't go over well.
Anyway, things settled down, though Ragsy refused to eat anything unless it was dried fruit or biscuits that I had brought as snacks with us, eaten in the air-conditioned comfort of the bedroom.
That first day was tough - very tough - on all of us. Mostly on Ragsy, but kids can manage to make their bad day into everyone else's, too. Still, once Ragsy managed to go to sleep and we settled down a little, we had a wonderful meal of sambhar, poppard, rice and dahi (yogurt) with sweets.
The second day was even better. We didn't do a whole lot - mostly sat around and talked - but Ragsy at least stopped screaming quite as much (though not entirely) and got to run around a bit on the roof of Tata's building.
The third day was even better still. We went to the ruins of this beautiful old Hindu temple, Mahabalipuram. The place was fantastic. It was right next to the sea and covered in elaborate carvings of the gods. It also had a beautiful museum and shop next door. We had a great time visiting, then went to a restaurant called Woodlands that has some sister restaurants in the States and other locations in India. We went back and relaxed for a while and ate another metric ton of food for dinner, then passed out in a gluttonous stupor.
The next day, Tata insisted on buying me jewelry. Not that I hate jewelry, but it was pretty weird nonetheless. He was pretty fixated on the idea. So we went out and got jewelry. Then he bought me, my husband and Ragsy some clothes and we went out to lunch to Woodlands and came back.
We spent about three days in Madras. It was wonderful, but Ragsy continued to be pretty upset and clingy throughout the visit. He only made friends with Tata's caregiver at the end of the visit. She was absolutely delighted and so was I.
In Madras, he learned to say water in both Hindi and English. He also had his first sip of coffee (apparently kids are can have coffee as soon as they start drinking anything other than breastmilk; we were not too happy with that) and absolutely loved it, much to my chagrin. He also learned to say coffee, elevator, Tata and a few other words. He also learned that he loved to spin round and round in the middle of the elaborate symbols painted on Tata's living room and kitchen floors. He then used that knowledge to make offerings of gold chrysanthemums to the gods at the little shrine in the kitchen.
I wish I could do justice to our visit to India. I'm not and I hate it. Bombay was wonderful and chaotic; Madras was tropical and sweaty and beautiful and green. Our last morning there, before we got on our flight to Delhi, we went to an old temple site with a pond in front of it. The pond was full of catfish that flipped and flopped and slipped on top of each other to get the puffed sweet rice we threw them. Ragsy absolutely loved it.
What I learned in Madras (okay, this isn't everything I learned in Madras):
Ragsy doesn't like to sweat.
Caste is still alive and well, despite the fact that it's illegal.
Bedbug bites look similar to mosquito bites, but not exactly like them (yes, there's a whole other story behind that one).
But I digress.
So, we got to Madras the afternoon of the 26th, found my husband's grandfather's driver and headed to my grandfather-in-law's (we'll call him Tata now - it's what we all call him and it's a heck of a lot easier) flat. The weather was much hotter than Bombay - probably low to mid 90's and very humid. Most people in Madras are shorter and much darker than in the middle of the country. Many descend from the Dravidians, whose origin is unknown.
When we arrived at Tata's, Ragsy was starting to get uncomfortable in the heat. My husband's Tata rarely uses air conditioning and it's only available in the bedrooms anyway, so we were all sweating a lot. Which was no big deal for me and my husband, but for Ragsy that was apparently a problem. From the moment we arrived at Tata's to the moment he went to sleep there was more or less non-stop screaming. Not only was he hot, my husband's Tata is deaf so everyone in the house more or less yells when they speak. It's actually quite funny in retrospect. All these people so excited to see my son, getting into his face, yelling their hellos and him shrieking, "Mommy!" Then they'd try to take him away to distract him, which didn't go over well.
Anyway, things settled down, though Ragsy refused to eat anything unless it was dried fruit or biscuits that I had brought as snacks with us, eaten in the air-conditioned comfort of the bedroom.
That first day was tough - very tough - on all of us. Mostly on Ragsy, but kids can manage to make their bad day into everyone else's, too. Still, once Ragsy managed to go to sleep and we settled down a little, we had a wonderful meal of sambhar, poppard, rice and dahi (yogurt) with sweets.
The second day was even better. We didn't do a whole lot - mostly sat around and talked - but Ragsy at least stopped screaming quite as much (though not entirely) and got to run around a bit on the roof of Tata's building.
The third day was even better still. We went to the ruins of this beautiful old Hindu temple, Mahabalipuram. The place was fantastic. It was right next to the sea and covered in elaborate carvings of the gods. It also had a beautiful museum and shop next door. We had a great time visiting, then went to a restaurant called Woodlands that has some sister restaurants in the States and other locations in India. We went back and relaxed for a while and ate another metric ton of food for dinner, then passed out in a gluttonous stupor.
The next day, Tata insisted on buying me jewelry. Not that I hate jewelry, but it was pretty weird nonetheless. He was pretty fixated on the idea. So we went out and got jewelry. Then he bought me, my husband and Ragsy some clothes and we went out to lunch to Woodlands and came back.
We spent about three days in Madras. It was wonderful, but Ragsy continued to be pretty upset and clingy throughout the visit. He only made friends with Tata's caregiver at the end of the visit. She was absolutely delighted and so was I.
In Madras, he learned to say water in both Hindi and English. He also had his first sip of coffee (apparently kids are can have coffee as soon as they start drinking anything other than breastmilk; we were not too happy with that) and absolutely loved it, much to my chagrin. He also learned to say coffee, elevator, Tata and a few other words. He also learned that he loved to spin round and round in the middle of the elaborate symbols painted on Tata's living room and kitchen floors. He then used that knowledge to make offerings of gold chrysanthemums to the gods at the little shrine in the kitchen.
I wish I could do justice to our visit to India. I'm not and I hate it. Bombay was wonderful and chaotic; Madras was tropical and sweaty and beautiful and green. Our last morning there, before we got on our flight to Delhi, we went to an old temple site with a pond in front of it. The pond was full of catfish that flipped and flopped and slipped on top of each other to get the puffed sweet rice we threw them. Ragsy absolutely loved it.
What I learned in Madras (okay, this isn't everything I learned in Madras):
Ragsy doesn't like to sweat.
Caste is still alive and well, despite the fact that it's illegal.
Bedbug bites look similar to mosquito bites, but not exactly like them (yes, there's a whole other story behind that one).
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
Arrival in India and our first visit in Bombay.
Okay, so I promised details on our trip to India. Since we were there for a whole month, I thought I'd go in relatively large chunks - maybe a week at a time or a location at a time - plus arrival in India and arrival in the States. I'll eventually post a link to our pictures, but until we create a new account, you'll just have to wonder...
So here goes:
The flight to India was not as horrible as I originally thought it might be. It wasn't exactly a laugh riot - Ragsy only slept for about five or six hours of the total 14-hour flight. And I'm sure the girl squished between us and the window was less than delighted to be in the same row as an extremely energetic toddler. Fortunately, Ragsy only really screamed two or three times for about 5-10 minutes each (the three-hour St. Louis to Newark flight before the India flight was so easy it's really not worth giving details). So, it all worked out. We arrived in Bombay around 12 a.m. We cleared customs quickly, so I assumed that the airport outside would be pretty quiet. Not so.
We grabbed our bags and pushed and shoved our way out of the main gates of the airport, only to be confronted with a huge sea of people shouting, some bearing signs, some not. You would have thought that some rock star or famous actor had come to visit. Nope - this is just a normal night at the Bombay airport. My father-in-law managed to push his way to the front of the crowd, so we found him easily.
We were quickly sherpherded to the other side of the crowd and followed his driver to their parking spot where we tossed our bags in the car and were whisked away to my father-in-law's flat. By now it was about 1 a.m. Ragsy was wide awake and wired and my husband and I were exhausted and barely conscious. After managing to calm Ragsy enough to get him to sleep, we snacked a bit and went to bed ourselves, only to be awoken four hours later by our son whose body was not having anything to do with a significant time change.
We only stayed in Bombay for two full days before we flew to Madras. During the first day, which was Christmas Eve, we did absolutely nothing, taking turns watching Ragsy and sleeping, occasionally eating and trying to stay out of the maids' way. The second day, Christmas Day, we went to a lunch at my father-in-law's club with about 20 close friends and family members. Ragsy slept through the entire thing. No amount of back-rubbing, kissing, nudging, jostling, flopping or bouncing would wake him from his five-hour nap. We traded him back and forth between four people, but he never stirred until we were all done with our food. Which was kind of nice, actually.
By the time we got back to my father-in-law's house, Ragsy was ready for action and we were all ready to go into a food coma. My husband and I bargained over who would get to nap. I lost so I watched Ragsy for much of the afternoon. My brother-in-law came over and my husband still slept. Finally I was sent to bed, too, along with Ragsy since I kept falling asleep mid-sentence. Delightful houseguest, no?
Then the next day, we were off to Madras.
I realize that the description of our first two days in India sounds pretty boring. And they were relatively uneventful days. Still, it got more interesting as we went along.
Still, I learned a few things those first couple of days: most people in India have servants if they're lower-middle class or above. It costs just about $25 US (approx. 1,000 rupees) in Bombay to have someone come and clean every single day for a month and less than ten dollars more to have someone cook at least one meal for you a day.
It's really true that cows can go wherever they want to. Donkeys and goats, too. I saw more livestock in the streets of Bombay in the first few days and even more in Delhi than I typically see in three or four months driving by farmland in St. Louis. Who knew? By the time I went home I was ready to sink my teeth into the side of a cow, though.
Younger people in the generation younger than mine, women and men included, work their asses off if they have jobs regardless of what social class they're in. Twelve and 14-hour days are not at all unusual. Also, jobs for women in the generation younger than mine are considered careers while for women my age and older, they're often treated more like hobbies.
You must eat. Hosts don't like it if you don't eat. They think something is wrong with you or with the food. It doesn't matter if you're dieting. If you don't want to offend someone, it's best to take a small portion so you can have room for seconds. Whether you have room or not, someone will inevitably - and very strongly - encourage you to have more. Lots more.
Children (in my husband's family's homes anyway) can do anything they want to as long as it's not life threatening, including throwing toys off balconies (thanks a lot, Ragsy), screaming for no reason, pouring water on the floor, beating inanimate objects (even expensive ones) with sticks and eating nothing but fried food for breakfast (I never quite got used to the deep-fried breakfast).
Finally, in case you didn't know it, butter and oil are health foods and should be included in some form in everything. That means it's on top of any flatbread you eat unless said flatbread is deep-fried, in any subji or curry unless it's swimming will oil instead of butter, and heaped on your toast and in your eggs if you don't eat a deep-fried breakfast. Some households are healthier than others and some regions have more oil in their food than others, but most places use liberal amounts of each unless, of course, you're eating fruit or dessert.
Oh, yeah, and water buffalo milk is the most common and freshest type of milk. If you want cow's milk, you need to specify or you'll get unhomogenized water buffalo's milk that can have up to 8% milkfat and make your 20-month-old perpetually full. But cutting it with water does the trick if you want your child to eat solids, too.
So here goes:
The flight to India was not as horrible as I originally thought it might be. It wasn't exactly a laugh riot - Ragsy only slept for about five or six hours of the total 14-hour flight. And I'm sure the girl squished between us and the window was less than delighted to be in the same row as an extremely energetic toddler. Fortunately, Ragsy only really screamed two or three times for about 5-10 minutes each (the three-hour St. Louis to Newark flight before the India flight was so easy it's really not worth giving details). So, it all worked out. We arrived in Bombay around 12 a.m. We cleared customs quickly, so I assumed that the airport outside would be pretty quiet. Not so.
We grabbed our bags and pushed and shoved our way out of the main gates of the airport, only to be confronted with a huge sea of people shouting, some bearing signs, some not. You would have thought that some rock star or famous actor had come to visit. Nope - this is just a normal night at the Bombay airport. My father-in-law managed to push his way to the front of the crowd, so we found him easily.
We were quickly sherpherded to the other side of the crowd and followed his driver to their parking spot where we tossed our bags in the car and were whisked away to my father-in-law's flat. By now it was about 1 a.m. Ragsy was wide awake and wired and my husband and I were exhausted and barely conscious. After managing to calm Ragsy enough to get him to sleep, we snacked a bit and went to bed ourselves, only to be awoken four hours later by our son whose body was not having anything to do with a significant time change.
We only stayed in Bombay for two full days before we flew to Madras. During the first day, which was Christmas Eve, we did absolutely nothing, taking turns watching Ragsy and sleeping, occasionally eating and trying to stay out of the maids' way. The second day, Christmas Day, we went to a lunch at my father-in-law's club with about 20 close friends and family members. Ragsy slept through the entire thing. No amount of back-rubbing, kissing, nudging, jostling, flopping or bouncing would wake him from his five-hour nap. We traded him back and forth between four people, but he never stirred until we were all done with our food. Which was kind of nice, actually.
By the time we got back to my father-in-law's house, Ragsy was ready for action and we were all ready to go into a food coma. My husband and I bargained over who would get to nap. I lost so I watched Ragsy for much of the afternoon. My brother-in-law came over and my husband still slept. Finally I was sent to bed, too, along with Ragsy since I kept falling asleep mid-sentence. Delightful houseguest, no?
Then the next day, we were off to Madras.
I realize that the description of our first two days in India sounds pretty boring. And they were relatively uneventful days. Still, it got more interesting as we went along.
Still, I learned a few things those first couple of days: most people in India have servants if they're lower-middle class or above. It costs just about $25 US (approx. 1,000 rupees) in Bombay to have someone come and clean every single day for a month and less than ten dollars more to have someone cook at least one meal for you a day.
It's really true that cows can go wherever they want to. Donkeys and goats, too. I saw more livestock in the streets of Bombay in the first few days and even more in Delhi than I typically see in three or four months driving by farmland in St. Louis. Who knew? By the time I went home I was ready to sink my teeth into the side of a cow, though.
Younger people in the generation younger than mine, women and men included, work their asses off if they have jobs regardless of what social class they're in. Twelve and 14-hour days are not at all unusual. Also, jobs for women in the generation younger than mine are considered careers while for women my age and older, they're often treated more like hobbies.
You must eat. Hosts don't like it if you don't eat. They think something is wrong with you or with the food. It doesn't matter if you're dieting. If you don't want to offend someone, it's best to take a small portion so you can have room for seconds. Whether you have room or not, someone will inevitably - and very strongly - encourage you to have more. Lots more.
Children (in my husband's family's homes anyway) can do anything they want to as long as it's not life threatening, including throwing toys off balconies (thanks a lot, Ragsy), screaming for no reason, pouring water on the floor, beating inanimate objects (even expensive ones) with sticks and eating nothing but fried food for breakfast (I never quite got used to the deep-fried breakfast).
Finally, in case you didn't know it, butter and oil are health foods and should be included in some form in everything. That means it's on top of any flatbread you eat unless said flatbread is deep-fried, in any subji or curry unless it's swimming will oil instead of butter, and heaped on your toast and in your eggs if you don't eat a deep-fried breakfast. Some households are healthier than others and some regions have more oil in their food than others, but most places use liberal amounts of each unless, of course, you're eating fruit or dessert.
Oh, yeah, and water buffalo milk is the most common and freshest type of milk. If you want cow's milk, you need to specify or you'll get unhomogenized water buffalo's milk that can have up to 8% milkfat and make your 20-month-old perpetually full. But cutting it with water does the trick if you want your child to eat solids, too.
Sunday, January 20, 2008
I'm back and we're all dead tired.
After a 17-hour flight (during which Ragsy slept a total of 6-7 hours; consequently, I've found out that I'm a lot more patient than I thought since Ragsy insisted on sleeping and sitting on me constantly and there were no extra seats), a 10-hour layover and another three-hour flight, we arrived back in St. Louis at 6:30 p.m. last night. It was wonderful to get back, though it's somewhat anticlimactic when you haven't slept in more that 36 hours and your house is 55 degrees and you need to go to the supermarket immediately because your son is hungry and you have one egg and stale bread in the fridge.
I have so much to say, but I'm tired again, so I'll have to try tomorrow. Ragsy and I are still adjusting to the new time zone (St. Louis is about 11 and a half hours behind Bombay). My son was up bright and early this morning at 1:30 and again at 6. Which turned out to be okay because I woke up at 4:45 and couldn't go back to sleep, either, so I took over and my husband slept in. So now I'm feeling pretty dead. It doesn't help that I'm hopped up on Motrin and cold medicine because I'm still trying to shake this rotten cold I got in Bombay.
Nonetheless, we had a wonderful, wonderful time. I'm sure you'll get tired of hearing about it. I'm still looking forward to working tomorrow, though - I'm not a rigidly scheduled person, but some structure is good. Oh, well. Enough rambling. Bedtime.
I have so much to say, but I'm tired again, so I'll have to try tomorrow. Ragsy and I are still adjusting to the new time zone (St. Louis is about 11 and a half hours behind Bombay). My son was up bright and early this morning at 1:30 and again at 6. Which turned out to be okay because I woke up at 4:45 and couldn't go back to sleep, either, so I took over and my husband slept in. So now I'm feeling pretty dead. It doesn't help that I'm hopped up on Motrin and cold medicine because I'm still trying to shake this rotten cold I got in Bombay.
Nonetheless, we had a wonderful, wonderful time. I'm sure you'll get tired of hearing about it. I'm still looking forward to working tomorrow, though - I'm not a rigidly scheduled person, but some structure is good. Oh, well. Enough rambling. Bedtime.
Thursday, January 10, 2008
I never call, I never write.
Okay, so I'm still in India, Rajkot to be specific. We've had a wonderful time here so far and are continuing to do so. I'll write more details later - right now both my husband and son are taking an afternoon nap. We've been here for about five or six days and will be headed back to Bombay day after tomorrow. The flight over here and the all the flights we've taken within India have been remarkably smooth. So much so that I'm waiting for an all-out meltdown on the way back to the States. What kid remains calm on a 15-hour flight, 9 hours of which they're wide awake?
Still, we've only had mini-meltdowns so far, even though it took Ragsy about a week to get into a schedule again where he was sleeping more than four hours at a time. Which is saying a lot because, until we got to Rajkot, we'd been traveling somewhere by plane or car every two days.
So far, we've been to:
Bombay
Madras (Chennai)
Delhi
Agra
Back to Bombay
Amedebad
Rajkot
Tomorrow we'll take a day trip to Champrajpur.
I've only spoken the primary language in Bombay, so I've spent a lot of time either listening intently and learning either Gujurati, Tamil or Hindi or having the conversation flow around me. Ragsy is having a wonderful time - not getting quite as spoiled as we feared. And his speaking skills have truly bloomed. He says grandfather and grandmother in Tamil and Hindi respectively and great-grandmother in Gujurati. He's picked up a couple of other Hindi and Gujurati words plus started saying four-syllable English words and near whole sentences and actually communicating with us when he wants us to go somewhere instead of pointing. And if I don't get it, he'll actually grab my hand and take me there. Maybe he just needed the new experiences to jar his brain. He's certainly had them.
Unfortunately, being in a new place has made him very clingy, which is totally understandable. Also, I get stared at...a LOT. Not so much in Bombay, but since we got to Rajkot, I've had a few people stop, point and stare. Very, very weird.
I'm loving it here, but I'm looking forward to getting back. Things I want to do:
SHAVE (I've been advised not to due to water-borne diseases that can be picked up through nicks and cuts in the shower; therefore, I am become yeti, long-haired monster)
Sleep on a soft bed (most Indian beds are basically a 1- to 2-inch cushion on a wood platform; good for the back, but not if you have a toddler trying to climb on you to find somewhere soft to sleep)
Eat a steak (cows are sacred here - you see them walking around in the streets, but you can't eat 'em)
Cook and clean (every household I've been to has servants; it's nice, but I'm not used to calling someone from the kitchen to pass me a plate)
Work (if I lived here, I would have more substantial hobbies than I can take advantage of right now)
Well, I'm off to check up on the boys. It's the husband's birthday today. We're having a "small" to-do (with 20 people and a hired cook) and I need to get cleaned up.
Still, we've only had mini-meltdowns so far, even though it took Ragsy about a week to get into a schedule again where he was sleeping more than four hours at a time. Which is saying a lot because, until we got to Rajkot, we'd been traveling somewhere by plane or car every two days.
So far, we've been to:
Bombay
Madras (Chennai)
Delhi
Agra
Back to Bombay
Amedebad
Rajkot
Tomorrow we'll take a day trip to Champrajpur.
I've only spoken the primary language in Bombay, so I've spent a lot of time either listening intently and learning either Gujurati, Tamil or Hindi or having the conversation flow around me. Ragsy is having a wonderful time - not getting quite as spoiled as we feared. And his speaking skills have truly bloomed. He says grandfather and grandmother in Tamil and Hindi respectively and great-grandmother in Gujurati. He's picked up a couple of other Hindi and Gujurati words plus started saying four-syllable English words and near whole sentences and actually communicating with us when he wants us to go somewhere instead of pointing. And if I don't get it, he'll actually grab my hand and take me there. Maybe he just needed the new experiences to jar his brain. He's certainly had them.
Unfortunately, being in a new place has made him very clingy, which is totally understandable. Also, I get stared at...a LOT. Not so much in Bombay, but since we got to Rajkot, I've had a few people stop, point and stare. Very, very weird.
I'm loving it here, but I'm looking forward to getting back. Things I want to do:
SHAVE (I've been advised not to due to water-borne diseases that can be picked up through nicks and cuts in the shower; therefore, I am become yeti, long-haired monster)
Sleep on a soft bed (most Indian beds are basically a 1- to 2-inch cushion on a wood platform; good for the back, but not if you have a toddler trying to climb on you to find somewhere soft to sleep)
Eat a steak (cows are sacred here - you see them walking around in the streets, but you can't eat 'em)
Cook and clean (every household I've been to has servants; it's nice, but I'm not used to calling someone from the kitchen to pass me a plate)
Work (if I lived here, I would have more substantial hobbies than I can take advantage of right now)
Well, I'm off to check up on the boys. It's the husband's birthday today. We're having a "small" to-do (with 20 people and a hired cook) and I need to get cleaned up.
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