Rickshaws

When I ride in a rickshaw I always seem to think it is worthy of blogging about. Tonight I tried to get a rickshaw to take me home, but none of them wanted to go my way. So I had to cross the horrible, crazy, suicidal road to catch one going the right direction. I waved and waved for one to stop. I saw many that were empty but for some reason they wouldn't stop. I start wondering, "Do I not know how to flag down a rickshaw?" I've watched people do it and I am doing what they are doing. "Am I in the wrong spot for them to stop?" Someone got picked up here just when I arrived after nearly getting run over crossing the street, so it has to be a fine place. "So what is the problem?" People stare at me. I wonder if I am doing something wrong or just a foreign woman. I wonder if they are thinking how silly I must be for not knowing how to get a rickshaw. My ego is crushed.

Finally I get one to stop. He doesn't know my area, but I tell him what it is close to. Off we go. But then he stops for gas. That must take another ten minutes. I sit in the rickshaw and delete messages on my phone, just to take up the time. It is finally our turn to get gas so I get out. For some reason I can sit in the rickshaw when the guy in front is gassing up, but when it is our turn I have to get out. So I walk to the other side of the gas station. I have learned to pay attention to what my driver looks like so I know which one to get back in. Off we go.

Then on our dark street, the driver stops and looks back behind us on the road. I think to myself, "Is he calling over his buddy to murder me?" But no, it is just a guy who needs to haul something big somewhere and is asking my rickshaw to do it after he drops me off. So the guy gets in the front seat with the driver and we continue on our dark street. No one tried to kill me and I arrived safely. Another successful trip to and fro.

Supreme Thai Vegetable Soup

I just created the best tasting soup! Yep, right here in my own kitchen. Too bad I didn't write down my directions to pass on to a recipe book somewhere.

I cut up some carrots, potatoes, an onion and some corn. Then I boiled those with water. Then I put in some chicken flavor cubes. My secret ingredient is a half packet of gravy mix, country gravy style, like what you put on biscuits and gravy. Then I shook in some Thai yellow curry powder. Presto!

Are Men Animals?

That is the question of the day. I would hope that the answer is "no", but it seems many men think that they are animals. So who is right? Me, who is not a man? Or a man, who is a man? If the majority of men think that they are animals, is it true?

Now my post is turning a bit to the adult conversation area, so please, no kids reading past this point.

Men have used the excuse that if they weren't allowed to go to a prostitute that they would need to rape someone. Therefore, prostitution should be legalized. LAME! This logic suggests that sex is a "need" and must be gratified. It also suggests that rape is about sex.

Has anyone died from not having sex? Go ask a monk. I've heard of people dying from no food or no sleep, but not from no sex.

So now men must lower themselves to animal status in order to justify sex with a prostitute. They can't control themselves. It is instinct. Excuses like that. If you really believe that a man can't control himself, then we live in a sorry world. I don't want my son to grow up thinking that he is no better than an animal and that he can't control himself.

So it seems that the real problem with human trafficking lies with man. It all goes back to "Supply and Demand". Men think they are animals and have a sexual need that must be met, so they "demand" sex. It is also mostly men who employ the prostitutes. If there was no demand, then there would be no reason to have a supply. We must stop the demand!

STOP THE DEMAND!!!

Frogger

Crossing the street here can be a lot like playing a live game of Frogger. Remember that video game that you have to jump the frog across the stream without him landing in the water? Well the way you lose this live game is that you get squished by a car. I have played it several times these last couple of days.

To get across the busy streets here, you must be a risk-taker. I am not generally a risk-taker, but I love the feeling of accomplishing something so non-American. I feel like I am becoming Indian.

Today I was still remembering my risks yesterday when I crossed over the bus lane and had a bus go by me so close I could touch it. So I decided to not be as risky in the road crossing game today. I chose to cross with the crowd. Unfortunately the crowd was only one person. He was talking on his cell phone as we crossed the street. So it seemed that he was a calm, confident sort of person. We got a third of the way across and he freaked out with the car heading right at us, and he waved the car to go in front of us while he went backwards. In the split second, I made the decision to go forward. Luckily for me, the car went behind me and in front of him since he went back a ways. So much for my bright idea of the crowd.

As I made it across and thought about how really drivers don't want to hit people, I smiled. And then I started to feel like I had just accomplished a huge feat. I am sure that in America, a driver would totally slam on his brakes and come to a stop to let me cross. But this driver didn't slow down, but he also knew that he wasn't going to hit either of us. I never expect a driver to slow down or stop here. It is totally up to the walker to get out of the way or to cross only when he can make it to a halting place. Kind of like the frog jumping on a log and resting for his perfect leap to the next log.

Just call me Frogger!

Viral

I have been obsessive lately about checking my stats on my blog and seeing where people are reading my blog. So I am interested in trying a little experiment. I need your help. I want to infect you with my blog virus and have you then infect those who read your blog. So what I am asking you to do is to put a link on your blog to my blog. Like just a quick comment that people can then come here and see this little experiment. Then if those people would also put a link/comment on their blog about my blog, and so forth and so forth. I want to see how far this virus of bloggy can reach before it takes over the world. Some people will be immune to it and it will stop there, but others of you will be so contagious that it can't be stopped. People don't have to keep reading my blog or give me money or anything like that, it is just an experiment. And no one will have good luck for reading anything I write.

Why I like India

Living in India is really living. There is so much more to experience. So much more to feel. I find I don't take things for granted. Even small things like a Coke. In the States I would walk to 7-11 daily to get a Big Gulp. It was easy. I enjoyed the walk. But here it isn't as easy. So I don't do it daily. It doesn't seem like a big deal to go to the market, but it just seems to take more effort. So when Steve brings me a Coke home from an outing he has been on, I appreciate it so much more.

India is full of colors and sounds and smells. Beautiful birds are singing outside the window, which is open, and the smell of garbage is wafting in. We woke up this morning to the honk of a peacock outside. I've given up running to the window to try to find it because they seem to know and they stop honking. One day I looked out the window and saw a shepherd with his herd of goats, walking through the garbage area looking for grass. You see kids playing with sticks and rocks and having a great time making up games. Ladies sit around in groups talking while men sit in other groups playing card games. Life is slow. There is time to have chai with a neighbor and talk about life.

But life is hard. I asked my house help lady, Bimla, if her house is cold. She said she just sits in bed with the kids all under a blanket. I thought she had a fire to keep warm by because she smells smokey sometimes, but she doesn't. She has a dirt floor. No heat. She is cold. When someone gets sick it is more serious. She tells me of the people around her who have died. And she has seen horrific accidents. A lady getting ran over by a bus and getting her head squished. Right in front of Bimla. Two boys in her son's class got in a fight and one killed the other. Now the other boy has to hide away or else he will be killed by the other boy's family. The house across the way from Bimla was flooded this Fall and Bimla was afraid her house would also be destroyed. Or the neighbor girl who went missing and nothing has been done about it. It is one thing after another. Death, sickness, tragedy, struggle.

I am thankful that I get to experience life to the fullest. Sure, there are a lot of hard things, but that is also part of living. Feeling the pain that others are going through. Desiring to help, but feeling so lacking and overwhelmed. I know I am removed from a lot of pain myself, but I wouldn't want to be any further removed. I want to see life, to feel the pain and joy, to smell the stink, to taste the spice, to walk the hard roads, to help those I can, to go through life together. It gives me a deeper yearning for heaven. This world is not mine, I am just passing through in order that I can lead some other travelers to true life.

Fear Factor

I've said before in my blog that a few of the things I am fearful of are earthquakes, tsunamis, phones, and water. I know I could never be on the show Fear Factor because they would probably make me call someone while I was under water during an earthquake. Well last week when I was warm instead of freezing in Delhi, I faced two of those fears at the same time, water and tsunamis.

We were at the beach in Goa, where it is warm instead of cold (did I say that already?) and I decided to go in the water. I went in the water last year too, trying to face those fears. This year I realized that when I am in the water I am still fearful. I stand facing the waves and think, "oh, here comes a big one." Not that I think the waves are tsunamis, but the waves just might kill me. I am always on the look-out for the tsunami though.

So this year I decided to turn my back on the waves as they were coming towards me. And guess what? I didn't die. In fact I didn't even have the wave go over my head. Several times I was even out the farthest of all the group. So EAT THAT FEAR FACTOR!!!!

"God is our refuge and strength, always ready to help in times of trouble. So we will not fear, even if earthquakes come and the mountains crumble into the sea. Let the oceans roar and foam. Let the mountains tremble as the waters surge!" Psalms 46:1-3

Part of facing my fears is to remember God. I can trust in Him. Not saying that I will never drown or die in an earthquake, but if I do find myself in the midst of the sea when a tsunami hits, I know that He is still with me. And if God is with me, why should I fear.

And really, if we want to talk about irrational fears, let's talk about public speaking. I have no fear there, but I know that for most people it is huge. At least most of my fears are rational.

Sari Charlie

We went to a wedding last night for a friend's daughter. She just turned 17. She married her cousin who is around 22.



I decided to wear a sari. A sari is the long, six yards of material, indian dress. They really are beautiful. So I bought one and took it to the tailor to make a blouse for underneath and the lining. When I bought the sari the fabric seller told me that there was extra material for the blouse. And even when I took the sari to the tailor he said there was extra material. But when I picked it up from the tailor there was only the plain material blouse and not the pretty sari fabric blouse. He said there wasn't enough material. Since I have never been good at confrontation, and especially not in Hindi, I just said, "Thank you" and left.

Other times when I have worn a sari I have had friends wrap it for me. But now we are in a new place and I don't really know the people around me, so I decided to wrap it myself. (That means to put it on) I found an instructional video on Youtube and went for it. I wasn't quite pleased with the results so I finally gave in and went next door to a neighbor I have talked to a few times. I asked if she would help me wrap it better but she just praised me for doing such a good job, so I felt better about my work.



I knew I was going to hear from the ladies at the wedding if my sari was not wrapped well, and boy did I. I went over to a group of friends and they liked the sari itself, but then they asked me who helped me put it on. I told them I did. They laughed. I said that I didn't think I did a very good job. The decision was made that I should go have someone help me. So it must have looked pretty bad. I went into the room that the bride sits in with her friends and relatives and found another friend there to help dress me. She had to unwrap the whole thing and start over. The ladies in the room all got a kick out of the whole process. Glad I could be the entertainment. And sure enough, my friend told me that there is extra material for the blouse. So now my sari is too long. And the blouse that the tailor made for me is too loose. So the ladies are all talking about my clothes and "tsk tsking". They laugh some more and get me all dressed. It was a two person process. One lady who I didn't know. I figure it is a good way to make friends. Show up at a wedding and stand in front of strangers in my slip. So anyway, I got all dressed and went back out and got the approval of the other ladies.



Now, what am I going to wear to the reception?

Toilet Talk

This post is for my Mom, who thinks I have a toilet fetish.

There are many different kinds of toilets in the world and they all hold a purpose. For instance, squatty potties are great when you don't want your bottom to pick up germs from the people who sit on it before you. Outhouses are good when there is no water. And the porcelain thrown is great for taking your time. But now on to my main point in this posting.

Our toilet seat is so cold these days that I prefer to hover over it and get my work done quickly. Sometimes I forget and I sit down to a shocking, ice cold greeting. Today I had such a shock. In one of our bathrooms, we have a shelf about a foot in front of the toilet, which I have hit my head on more than once. Very small space. Today my shock and the shelf made contact.

But one thing I love about toilets here is that there is usually a little sprayer near the toilet for those who like to clean with water. It comes in very handy. If I ever design my own bathroom, I will be putting one of these sprayers in it. Another issue with the cold is the cold water that shoots out of these sprayers. I suppose this can feel nice if you ever have a burning sensation, but on most squirts it is just numbing.

OK, I think that is enough toilet talk for one post. But before I end, let me say one more thing I like here that has something to do with toilets. Sometimes you will see signs up in windows that say "Room to let" or just "to-let". Meaning that they have a room to rent out. But sometimes they misspell the word and make it "Room toilet" or just "toilet". That could be very confusing to a foreigner looking for a bathroom.

3 Books and 1 more

On our little vacation in Goa, I read three books. The Visitor by Lee Child, The Confession by Grisham, and The Hard Way by Lee Child. The Visitor was my least favorite. A little too much R-rated material. Grisham always writes well and it almost seems like a true story. The other book, The Hard Way, was a good read. The main character is Jack Reacher, an ex-military guy who takes matters into his own hands to fight for justice.

I am also reading the Bible. This is going to take me a bit longer to finish. We were challenged to read as much as we can and underline the verses that stand out to us. So I have been doing that since October I think. I am only in 2 Kings now. So I have a long way to go.

Expert

Yesterday was our flight back from Goa to freezing Delhi. We took an afternoon flight so that we could avoid arriving at night in case there was fog. But even with the best plans, we still arrived at 9PM.

Our flight left a little after 3PM with an announcement "another on-time departure for Indigo Airline." It was a beautiful day, sunny and warm. We flew out over the ocean. The plane made a few weird noises, but nothing alarming. About 10 minutes into the flight I looked out and thought about what I was seeing. We were still only about 5000 feet up. I know that from my skydiving days when we went up to 10,000. Anyway, I thought to myself, "This seems odd. Why aren't we higher?" I thought about it a while and then told Steve that we were still pretty low and didn't seem to be going North. He wasn't concerned and just went back to reading. Then it occurred to me, "I don't think I heard the landing gear come up. I bet that is the problem." So I told Steve my opinion and said, "Of course, I'm no expert."

We landed without any announcement about what was happening. I suppose if you weren't looking out the window you would have been surprised at what was happening. Nothing about making sure your seat is up and the tray table and all that. We just landed. We were back where we started. We parked by the Air Force planes and I thought, "This doesn't look good. Maybe it is a security issue. If it was a problem with the plane they would probably tell us. But if it is a security issue they wouldn't want a panic, so they wouldn't tell us." Luckily, the flight attendant got on and told us there was a technical problem so we had returned.

We waited on the plane for an hour or so. They gave us sandwiches and made us buy our coke, but they did open the door and hook up the stairs so that people could step out. It was actually quite pleasant in the plane. We three read our books. Finally we were told that the problem was that the landing gear could not be raised so they were trying to fix it or else bring in another plane. So it turns out that I am an expert after all.