Under Stress

A few years ago we took a type of personality test that explains how you act under stress. Yesterday I was reminded of that test. I didn't realize so much that I am stressing out about moving and leaving for the States, but then I did something totally out of my normal character.

Steve, Micah and I were walking to get a rickshaw in our neighborhood, when a big vehicle, like an SUV, came down the street. The streets here are not made for big cars and it is just a recent phenomenom to have them. Well he came roaring down the street and honking at the car going too slow in front of him. That made me irritated so I turned and glared. We continued on.

Then we got to the front of our neighborhood and I hear the thing coming again. It roars around a corner and a taxi is turning so they come face to face with each other. From my perspective it seems the taxi had the right away, but the big guy wouldn't budge, so the taxi had to back up. But behind the taxi were more cars so it wasn't easy. Whereas the big guy could have backed up, no problem. Well something inside of me popped and I turned around and my hand shot up in the air. Luckily all my fingers went up instead of just the middle one. Then, out of my mouth came words that I couldn't stop in time. Thankfully only I heard them and not Steve or Micah. And it was then that I realized I knew the people in the big car.

I was shocked at myself. But thankfully the lady who owns the car wasn't in it. It was just the driver and the college aged son. So I called my friend and told her that her driver needs to drive better in the neighborhood. She thanked me for letting her know. I just hope they couldn't read my lips and were more focused on the taxi then the crazy white woman.

The Truth Hurts

At a wedding last year, I was mingling (something I am very awkward at) with the ladies and met a new lady who lived in Nizamuddin East (the neighborhood next to ours). We were talking about what we do and I mentioned "You know the gym in Nizamuddin West? That is my gym."

Sometimes things you say are misunderstood and sometimes Indians say rude things. I'm not sure if she thought I was saying that the gym is "mine" as in "I go to it." Or if she understood that I was saying that I am the owner of the gym. Anyway, she said, "Oh yes, I know the gym. I went there once but it wasn't very good."

I went ahead and told her that I own the gym, even though it was awkward. She didn't seem surprised or embarrassed. So I assume she was trying to be rude. I mean, even if it is true, you don't say some things.

missing

So to continue on with "house-help tales of today", let me tell you what she told me. Bimla was on the phone off and on all day today. I try not to listen, but she talks really loud. So after she got off the phone I asked if everything was okay. So she told me that her older son (13 years old) didn't pick-up the younger (3 and 5) kids from school so they were just wondering around outside. Their house was locked so the kids couldn't go inside. So they just were outside somewhere. So she was calling people to try to locate her kids.

Bimla lives in a village type setting. All the neighbors know each other. SO most likely her kids are fine. But then she told me that just yesterday a young child in her area went missing. She said a person took the child. So that is why she was nervous today about her kids.

If that was me I would find the quickest way home and look for my kids. She just kept working.

Glass

We are packing up our house, one cupboard at a time. Today was the cupboard with all the glass things. Pretty mugs, glasses, bowls, etc. I put them all on the coffee table so that Steve can pack them correctly. He said he wants to do it because he knows how to do it properly. So fine, I just got them out for him. Well Bimla, our house-helper, was just mopping the floor and she decided to move the coffee table. Do I need to tell you what happened?

Moral of the story is: If you have a house-helper and you have breakable things on the coffee table, you need to tell her not to move the coffee table. It may seem obvious, but tell her anyway.

Brick in the Face

Coming home from a nice lunch out with a friend, I had the horrible experience of watching some road-rage. Micah was with me in the car, which just made it all the more horrible.

A taxi driver made a u-turn into our side of the road. People don't give way to each other here, so a driver has to push his way into traffic if he ever wants to get anywhere. So the taxi was slowly easing his way into the traffic. A motorcycle decided he didn't want to give way, and the taxi probably assumed he would, so this caused a problem. Usually the bigger vehicle wins. Unfortunately for the motorcyclist and his passenger, there was a pile of bricks in the road, which already was making the traffic worst. But the taxi came out anyway and caused the motorcycle to slow down and move to the side by the bricks. He must have lost control on a brick and he spilled the bike. Both riders were fine, but upset. The taxi driver kind of stopped and looked back out the window. The motorcycle driver was upset and grabbed the first thing he saw, a brick, and charged towards the driver.

What we saw next was terrifying. The motorcycle guy went up to the window and poised his hand with the brick back in a "smashing your face" stance. Micah slumped down in his seat so as not to see the fight. I screamed, "Oh my word!" And then noticed the guy still held the brick. Thankfully he was just being typical. You see, it is typical of the Indian man (in Delhi any way), to come across very threatening. If two cars crash, the drivers will get out and puff their chests up. They yell at each other and look like they will punch the other, but seldom do they follow through. I have seen the same thing on some of those nature shows about ostriches.

My self-esteem boost

I led an aerobics class this morning after being away for 7 weeks. I am sure I will be sore later. One of the ladies, Shanaaz, told me that I look like I have lost weight. I'm sure I haven't since I only did aerobics 4 times in 7 weeks, but I told her thanks. I said, "I have probably gained weight and just look healthier (fatter). Maybe it looks good on me." She said, "No, it doesn't look good." I just smiled. Laughed inside.

This kind of thing use to really make me feel bad. She wasn't complimenting my weight loss, she was telling me that it looked bad. But I have been here long enough to have these comments not bother me. That is a good thing. What someone else thinks of me doesn't bother me.

At least not today!

Back to India

Today, Steve's 42nd birthday, Micah and I returned to India. We spent about 7 weeks in lovely Thailand, where the people are polite and quiet. The streets are clean and orderly. Now we are back in India. The airplane ride was enough to remind me of what I had missed. There were maybe 10 women on the plane full of men. I got a middle seat with a man who's elbows thought they were part of the middle seat also. The smell of b.o. permeated the plane as I walked to my seat. The man behind us belched loudly throughout the flight. People pressed the call button every 5 minutes.

It is dirty here. The sky is polluted. Our house feels dusty and dark. The street is full of rubbish. Drivers drive closer than they did when I left I think. And there is the beggar outside crying as he goes down the street outside our house. The fans make noise as they keep us cool. And our pillows seem old and gray.

Micah started to feel sick as we landed. By the time we were in the passport line he was feeling like he was going to lose it. By the time the passport agent had almost finished his passport and was about to begin mine, we needed to run to the bathroom. Once we got home he made several trips to the bathroom to get sick. Then he went to sleep. He semi woke up and came out and talked nonsense once and we thought he was delirious, but it turns out he was just sleeping.

It is good to be home. This is what home is. Being together in a place that is comfortable. And I can understand the language. The noises are familiar. The weather is nice. The birds are out. Even if it is dirtier than Thailand, it is still home.