Favorite moments.... our trip home.

Crepes, Crossaints and Coffee - favorite Paris moments:

• In a brief moment of confusion, Owen folds his hands together as in prayer and says "Namaste" to the French waitress after she had said "Au revoir" to him.
• Jack walking the length of the boat as we cruise the Seine trying to take the perfect picture of the Eiffel Tower (he took the picture on this posting).
• Watching the boys faces and moods change as the lights of the Eiffel Tower illuminate (Jack was grouchy because it was very late and it started to rain AND we had no umbrella).
• Our daily trip to the open air cafe around the corner from our hotel for fresh bread, croissants, coffee and hot chocolate.
• Learning that all the young French girls camped outside our hotel were in fact NOT stalking John but were waiting on the several "French Idols" staying at our little hotel
• Sharing post midnight crepes with Jack (a crepe maniac) and Matt in a small crepier after visiting the Eiffel Tower in the rain.
• Walking, walking and more walking the streets of Paris - miles every day.
  
• Getting lost on the subway after JUST discussing with John how EASY the French subway is - joke on me.

Worst Paris moment:

• Saying goodbye to John at the airport in Paris and watching my son Jack use every ounce of energy to remain stoic while his lower lip trembled.
  

Best Michigan moments:

• Arriving at our home for the first time and being surprised that the boys just ran into the garage (not the house) and started riding bikes and playing outside - freely.
  
• Watching all my family and friends dig through the pile of pashminas, scarfs etc. that I brought home. I was surprised how some of the pashminas had real memories attached to them for me (where I bought them, how I haggled - or didn't etc.).
• Realizing I felt as if I've never left AA and knowing for the first time that Ann Arbor is really my home.
• Shopping with Christine, sleep-over's with cousins, canoe trips with uncles and bday parties with family. It's why we live in Michigan.
  
• Sharing my home with 2 twenty something young men. Ha!
• Seeing Northport for the first time. We had a wonderful time seeing a place that is special to great friends and is now also special to us.

Charlevoix:

• My first coffee on the porch of the rental cottage. Not as good as coffee on Ann and Don's porch but still a wonderful feeling.
• Watching Matt ride off on his bike for his first day at "intermediate gang". The independence he has here is an amazing contrast to his life in India.
• An unplanned evening at Annie and Papa's where just before we leave, Annie runs upstairs to get Shel Silverstein's Where the Sidewalk Ends and within seconds all 3 boys are cuddled up with her, in giggle fits and saying "again, again... read it again".
• Jack and Matt's arrival home from gang for lunch yelling "Hello??? anyone here???" while looking around for their dad. Once I said "upstairs" they burst into a sprint up the stairs yelling "Dad! Dad!" and in the midst of hugs got smothered in shaving cream (John had just arrived in Charlevoix and was shaving!).
• Matt walking in the door shivering and wet, arms folded across his chest after his first sailing regatta. His boat capsized. Matt wasn't happy.
• One week later when Matt advised me on tacking, jibing, knot tying and tipping as I went off for MY first sailing lesson. Matt was very happy.
• Giving Ann and Don their Indian Kurta outfits and watching them walk around the Belvedere looking beautiful and distinguished.
• Finding Jack outside on the lawn with the neighbor Lilly - both sitting in the grass with MacBooks in laps (both were outside in order to hook up to someone's unprotected wireless connection).
• Sailing, playing tennis, shooting off model rockets and sharing bonfires with our friends from CA (Tritschlers).

Looking forward to/Not looking forward to...

• One more week in Michigan before we head out to India. When I first got home I was telling people that I was kind of excited about returning to India because of the boys new school, planned excursions etc. but I'm feeling differently right now. Honestly, I'm getting anxious and feeling sad. We've had such a wonderful summer here in Michigan - it's hard to see it end. Jack's birthday celebration is tomorrow - his 9th birthday in Charlevoix - a bit of a tradition. I'll be heading back to India with a 9 year old, almost 7 year old and a 5 year old. Kind of flabbergasting to me. I know it's cliche - but - Life is Good.
• My sister LouAnn and my niece Hannah's visit to India in August. Gives me something really great to look forward to after we return.
  

I'm leavin' on a jet plane... don't know when...

Ok - I know I'll be back on July 30th. We just ate chocolate cake and Thai food to celebrate John's birthday which is actually tomorrow but I'm sure we'll celebrate again in Paris tomorrow.

We leave in one hour to head for the airport - then to Paris and then to Michigan. Very excited. Not sure what my internet connections are going to be like but I hope to keep up at least a bit on the blog since it's become a "record" of sorts for this year in my life.

I have no intentions of visiting museums on this trip - maybe one. I am all about the cafes, picnics, walks in the parks and cruising down the Seine by foot and by boat. I can't wait to take a walk safely in the streets with my family and eat as many pastries as my tummy will handle. I won't even start on the wine. Or the cheese. Or the coffee. Yum.

Au revoir for now. I know - corny.

Nigel and 118 degrees

"87 year old Nigel Hankin has been living in New Delhi since the British left when they ceded Independence to the Indians - and if you’re lucky, you might be able to find him to take you on a magical tour of India’s capital city."

"Watching a body being bathed in "holy" river water for a funeral may be an unusual thing to do on a guided tour, but that's the point of an outing with Nigel Hankin."

A fabulous description of our tour guide and our tour stops.
http://www.sawf.org/newedit/edit09182006/Places.asp

A great review by the BBC of Nigel's book:
http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/3103075.stm

John and I had an extremely interesting and an even more extremely HOT tour of Delhi today with an 87 year old ex diplomat/ex WWII Veteran/British Army Captain. Nigel Hankin was disheveled, walked awkwardly (and as you might expect, slowly), and frankly did not look the part of a "tour guide legend" but in the 8 hours that we spent with him - he shared with us things we would have never dared to see on our own or frankly ever even known existed in our capital Delhi.

Because of a late start (group dynamic) and heavy traffic - we almost missed Nigel. We were to meet him at the British Embassy gate - the same gate at which I confirmed our tour with Nigel last week - at 9:30am. At 10:05 (barely late by Indian standards but remember, Nigel is British) we arrived only to have the gate guards quickly run out and tell us Nigel was walking in "that" direction. Thomas started running in "that" direction not really knowing who he was running after, but our driver caught on quickly and drove past Thomas to quickly find the very tall, lanky older man who was to be our guide for the day.

I won't write too much detail. It's clear from the other review I've read that we had the exact tour described in the links above - including many of the same quips, comments and jokes. Some of the highlights were:

• The funeral pyres. You might think it would be strange to watch strangers wash their dead, set up the wood for the pyres, light the pyres and cremate their loved ones. What struck me as more strange than watching this first hand was the lack of woman, lack of weeping and overall lack of "sense of tragedy" at such a gathering place.
• Visiting the ancient city well - still in operation. Coming face to face with the shortage of this precious commodity and seeing the conditions of the well (home to thousands of bats) convinced me we are right not to drink the tap water - even filtered tap water.
• Old Delhi - same place I went to Tuesday but in more depth with more smells, people and places. Almost too intense. After a while, the smells (including the open urinals) took over and at one point and I started to gag. Complete sensory overload. Our entire group of 5 was sneezing, coughing etc. before we left the area.
• In Old Delhi we passed a stall with sacks of an amber colored substance ranging from small beads to flakes. Nigel explained these were secretions of the Lac bug. This is where real Lac-er, and Shel-lac come from. John's boss Thomas thought we were in the spice market (it all blends together) and when Nigel placed some of these flakes in his hand - Thomas courageously placed it in his mouth. We all screamed STOP and he quickly started spitting and continued spitting for many minutes. It was humorous but probably a bit worrisome for Thomas. Thankfully, Nigel didn't seem too worried.
• My first Sikh temple visit.
• The place/basket where unwanted babies are left at night (mostly girls)
  
• My first peddle rickshaw ride through Old Delhi
• etc., etc., etc.

I am using pictures from Dave Scheine - another Google guy. Here they are.

I'm Obsessing

My first obsession at the moment has to do with our driver and my kids. For the FIRST time, I am doing what most other moms do - letting my driver pick up and transport my children home from camp (at AES in Delhi) without me in tow. The plan was to drop them off and drive me back to Laburnum (90 min in car) and then I could finally start to organize us for our trip while Micky headed back to Delhi to wait for and pick up the boys. Yikes. I'm a total wreck! I keep telling myself it's like putting my kids on a bus but then I remember.... this is India! And, just yesterday we had the misfortune of seeing a motorcycle/truck accident where - once all was said and done - the motorcycle was lodged under the truck and the helmet was shattered everywhere (thank god this man wore a helmet although I'm quite confident it did not save him). As you can see by the fact that I'm blogging instead of packing... I'm not making the best use of my kid free hours.

My second obsession is Pashminas -
Pashmina refers to a type of cashmere wool and textiles made from it. The name comes from Pashmineh, made from Persian pashm (= "wool"). This wool comes from a special breed of goat indigenous to high altitudes of the Himalayan mountains. The special goat's fleece has been used for thousands of years to make high-quality shawls that also bear the same name. The Himalayan Mountain goat, Capra hircus, sheds its winter coat every spring and the fleece is caught on thorn bushes. One goat sheds approximately 3-8 ounces of the fiber. Villages would scour the mountainside for the finest fleece to be used. Cashmere shawls have been manufactured in Kashmir and Nepal for thousands of years, but the Indians never called them "pashmina". They were popularly called Kashmiri wool shawls. The test for a quality pashmina has been warmth, feel and the passing the shawl through a wedding ring.

Shawls (full size), stoles (half size - still big) etc. etc. etc.. I can't stop shopping for them. I started shopping for them about two weeks ago so that I could bring home some gifts and at first it was very confusing - all the different mixes, real pashminas, pashmina from Kashmir, pashmina from Punjabi (not as good?), pashmina/wool blends, pashmina/silk blends and on and on and on. Oh - and the whole "hand woven" thing is tricky too. Only the most expensive ones are hand woven (pure pashmina) but the lower ends will say "hand woven" because the embroidery is hand woven after the shawl is made. Get the picture? The huge variation in pricing just makes things MORE complicated. As an expat buying shawls - I'm a sucker waiting to be taken by every seller in town. They know it, I know it. So, there is this whole "feeling out" to see how much I know and also for me to see how honest or shady they are going to be. It's very sadistic. It's very fun. I can't stop doing it. It's like hunting for that antique in a thrift shop.

Shawls make great gifts - easy to pack - wide range of prices, beautiful colors, relatively inexpensive. I've bought a lot of shawls, scarfs etc. The worst part is I want to go back for more! I'm addicted. The best of the best, 100% Hand Woven Kashmir Pashminas are about 8-10,ooo rupees ($200) for solid colors. I am NOT bringing them home as gifts. If anyone wants one of these - let me know which color and I'll BE OH SO HAPPY to buy it for you. Otherwise, get ready to pick your gift from a wide variety of colors, sizes and beautiful blends (mostly 70% pashmina/30% silk).

2 more hours of obsessing on issue number 1 and then I'll relax a bit.

I'm Really Naive

Why am I really naive? Well, because I actually believed I had a half an arm around this "living in India" thing and understood the chaos and possibly even was dealing with it well...

The truth is hard to hear.... I'M LIVING IN A BUBBLE!

The thing I realized today is that there is a huge section of the Indian population that actually creates this bubble and sustains if for me and the likes of me. They drive for us, they cook for us, they shop for us, they build malls for us, they identify us quickly in a crowd and treat us differently (not always to our benefit). It occurred to me today that I don't think it's possible for me to "see" or "experience" anything close to the real life of people who are born and raised here - even the life of upper class or wealthy Indians. I can catch glimpses, I can hear stories, I can piece together things I see and hear... but it's kind of like no matter how well I speak French (which I don't by the way), I'll never be French or treated like I'm French - even if I live in France.

We've only been here 3 months but I thought I had been to Delhi a lot considering I have 3 young boys. I thought I had scene the Delhi of Gandhi, the Hindu Delhi, the Muslim Delhi, the poor Delhi, the rich Delhi. I thought I had exposed myself to a fairly complete picture. Then, after I dropped my boys off at camp this morning - I had two hours to myself and my driver suggested he take me to Chandri Chowk. Great idea... I haven't been to this extremely old market in the heart of Old Delhi and it's not a place to take the boys without John so "let's do it". It was a world away from Gurgaon. Frankly, it was a world away for the Delhi I've seen so far. Old Delhi is like walking into a time machine and a space shrinking machine at the same time. It's cramped, noisy, smelly (not in a bad way), it's packed with more people, rickshaws, bikes, buses, trains, ancient buildings etc. etc. etc.. than I've ever seen. I'm a clear minority in a car - especially a large car with one person in it! It was awesome and a bit nerve racking. At one point the car was stopped by a sea of people crossing the road at the train stop and there was no way the car could move - and I could hardly see OUT my window for all the people looking IN. I felt a bit on display. At another point, I found myself climbing several flights of stairs in a dark, ancient building (think going into a basement but I'm going up instead of down) with strangers (except Micky) to be presented with shelves and shelves of hand woven scarfs/shawls in classic Indian style (remove your shoes, sit on a covered pile of cushions, be served a glass of water (which I can't drink). All of this in a room that is much like an unfinished basement over 100 years old.

It was a great adventure made possible because of Micky. He used to work in this market for 10+ years selling sari's which was clear by the number of merchants who knew him and shook his hand. He was obviously proud to show me this place and took me though the alleys and narrow roads smoothly and safely. Imagine Ann Arbor Art Fair crammed into 1/4 the space it is with 4x the number of people and all in ancient buildings and slippery stone roads. I could have never done this in 2 hours on my own. It would have taken me a full day to navigate my way in to Chandri Chowk let alone get myself out.

The result of this small adventure is that I realized I haven't even begun to see all the things there are to see - even in my own backyard - Delhi. Old Delhi. I overlooked this somehow - not sure how since the tourist books clearly identify it. I just didn't know how different "Old" Delhi would be.

p.s. these pictures are NOT mine but they do represent what I saw. Unfortunately I did not bring my camera.

From our dog Zeus

I have a guest writer today... our dog Zeus. Well, actually it is my sister-in-law Kelly writing and pretending to be Zeus. The boys thought this was very funny - so did John and I. Kelly, Joe, Aidan and Erica have been taking great care of our precious Zeus. Seriously - maybe too good. I don't think he'll want to come home!


From Zues...
Hello to my favorite family, I miss you all very very much, especially you Matt! Sorry it took so long to respond back to you but when my foster mom, Aunt Kelly, told me that you were asking about me I wanted to respond to you myself and it took a whole week to learn to read and write.

Anyway…..Life is pretty good here in Farmington Hills, Michigan, USA. My foster family treats me well and I get a lot of attention from them and all their family and friends. Everyone tells me “oh what a great dog you are” and “you are so pretty”, I have a hard time with the last comment because after all I am a “boy” dog and the word “handsome” should be used. (just my opinion). I get to go on mini vacations to a place that Aidan and Erica call Grandpa’s house. It is a totally cool place; you have to try it out! Talk about being spoiled. This grandpa character constantly is saying “I’ll put some meat on your bones Zeus, don’t you worry” and then he will give me a piece of steak or hotdog or fish and my personal favorite…..pork chops. I think this upsets my foster mom a little bit because she is always telling “grandpa” to stop feeding me table scraps that my stomach is not used to it. Secret between me and you, my stomach is sooooo getting used to it and if foster mom really knew how much I got she would completely flip, shhhhhhhh, I have a good think going here.

One of the games I learned to play, and this is a good one let me tell you, is I get up around 1:30 or so in the morning and go and wake your Aunt Kelly up so that she can let me outside to “take care of business”, hey a dog’s got to pee right? Then, just when she falls back to sleep, get this, I go and wake her again to let me out, she grumbles a little but she does it. The best part though, I will do this two or three more times and she gets up every time!! I’m laughing just telling you about it, sometimes she can be so gullible it cracks me up. I think I might have to be a little more cautious, she is staring to catch on.

Don’t worry, your aunt Kelly loves having me around and she tells me so all the time especially because your Uncle Joe is still working midnights. I don’t know why this is comforting to her, what does she expect me to do, it’s not like I know karate or something. All I do when someone I don’t know approaches the house is bark at the top of my lungs and jump around and make all kinds of commotion and for some strange reason my foster mom praises me for it and tells me “you’re a good boy Zeus”. You humans are a little tough to figure out.

Well it is time for my mid morning nap, where I can reminisce about my early morning nap and dream about my late morning nap, so I have to wrap things up. I think about you guys every day and I can’t wait to see you, hopefully when you come home in June!! Please don’t worry about me, I’m doing just great.

Love and Licks to all of you,
Zeus

Random Stuff

Fist of all, we have finalized our trip home and we leave India on the 14th (John's bday) and head to Paris for 3 days and then we fly to Detroit. The best part is that John will join us in Paris for the 3 days to celebrate both his bday and Fathers Day. In a classic family dynamic we are disagreeing on how to spend those precious days in Paris. My plan does NOT include Euro Disney. This is when being the only female does not work in my favor.

Today I was shopping - for gifts - even more fun and as I walked out of the fairly modern "mall", after miss-calling our driver Micky (a hang up call as not to use any precious minutes on my drivers cell phone), I had one of those moments where I realized the world around me is becoming "normal" to me.

As I walked out of the mall, Micky was hightailing it toward me (no easy feet in a sea of people) to grab my goodies from me and then we headed off to the place where the car was parked - about 200 yards away. The trek from the doors of the mall to the car are anything but normal. Rocky, dusty road filled with people, cars, vendor carts, beggars... you get the idea... but that is my norm. Intermingled with the dust, the carts, the people of all walks of life are the likes of me - just getting to my car. Micky quickly asked for 20 rupees (50 cents) to give the guy who watched our car while he got me and off we went... back to Laburnum.

On the note of gifts or purchases... If there is anything anyone wants me to bring back to the states - I'm happy to do it - just let me know. Kurtas (cotton tops you wear with pants), pashminas, fabrics, shawls, rugs, spices etc. are easily packed and I would love to shop for anyone who wants me to shop. Just let me know.

On the subject of Kurtas - I bought John his first Kurta/Pajama pant set today. Kurtas are made of a very lightweight cotton and so are the pants that go with them. Perfect clothing for a country where you want to be covered but need to be cool. Kurtas are typically long (above the knee) but there is a more modern version that I wear that is at the hip. Cut loosly but shapely - they are great. I will try to get a picture of John in his "pajama set" to post soon. By the way, pajamas are worn everywhere - it's not a bedtime thing.

Things seem to have calmed down on the Gujjar front (the rioting of last week) so our plan is to send the boys up to camp next week at AES (American Embassy School). I need that morning time to pack!

Lastly, Matt won the "closest to the pin" contest on the final day of golf class and won a trophy - OK, he won a golf ball signed by his two golf teachers and it has his name on it. It's a trophy to him and sits proudly with my Laburnum Tennis Tourney trophy in our living room. He and I are both very proud of it.