Merry Christmas

If something really interesting or noteworthy happens between now and Christmas, I may just have to blog about it. But if not, we pray that this season will be the most meaningful, the most real, the most life-changing one you've ever had. And may you (and we) pass on the reason for our hope to someone else this Christmas. Love to all of you.

Our Crazy, Cozy Indian Living Room

A Good Reminder

"People are not easily divided into saints and sinners. Most of them are more complicated and more interesting, a mixture of strengths, weaknesses, insights, and blind spots. If you demand perfection, you'll be disappointed. If you decide to only listen to perfect people, you'll find that you are pretty much on your own."

--Charles Sykes in 50 Rules Kids Won't Learn in School

Good Times

We're back from our trip to one of our favorite cities. We celebrated C's birthday, ate American food, visited with friends, and had a great time. Oh, and I got six inches cut off of my hair. It was a very successful trip. We are now exhausted and walking around like the undead. But we're putting up our tree, cleaning the apartment, and getting ready to see Mamaw and Papaw in two weeks!!

Radical

Living in a staggeringly poor country is a hard thing. You never, ever forget that you are among the richest in the world, existing among those who have next-to-nothing. You want to help, to do something, all the time--to stop the bleeding and make things better. And sometimes you do something that actually makes a small difference and then something washes over you and you feel genuinely happy for a moment or two.

I haven't read David Platt's by-now-famous book "Radical." I know many people love it, are challenged by it, shaken up and made crazy by it. And from what I know, I agree with Platt's stance that the western church needs to be totally different from what she is now,and that we all need to be turned on our heads. We need to be ridiculously generous and give of our wealth until it makes other people nervous.

But I read an excerpt of a review of "Radical" today, by Kevin DeYoung and I think he makes a very important point. It's a point that rings true all the more for me since I live in a land marked by government corruption, graft, backroom deals, and a belief that upward mobility is not the right of every kind of person, only some kinds.

He states:

"The Christian needs to be generous, but generous charity is not the answer to the world’s most pressing problems of hunger, inadequate medical care, and grinding poverty. Wealth is created in places where the rule of law is upheld, property rights are secured, people are free to be entrepreneurs, and there is sufficient social capital to encourage risk-taking. We can and should do good with our giving. But we must not lead people to believe that most of human suffering would be alleviated if we simply gave more."

So today, when I go to McDonald's and I save some of my food to give to the little professional beggars waiting outside, I'll do it because that's what Jesus would have done, and I'll tell them why I'm doing it, and that he loves them. I'll rest in that and I'll feel his smile. But I won't believe that I'm saving the world.

Because only he can do that.

Happy Birthday, C!

The last eight years have been the greatest, little man.

Fun with Friends

Our boys love their friend, Abishek.

He Did It Again

C pulled his own tooth. Isn't he cute? All he wants for Christmas...

Fellowship and KFC

We're enjoying a few days with a dear friend here. She's staying with us in our cold, cold apartment. Since we're so isolated in our current lives, we forget how fun and refreshing it is to have like-minded guests--people who 'get' us and can laugh at the same jokes and love the same movies. It's a blessing.

We'll all go together to her city on Thursday night (via the night train) and visit more friends there. It should be great fun. Not to mention the fact that KFC and Subway have opened up restaurants there. That, folks, is unheard-of awesomeness. I love the fact that Colonel Sanders has made an appearance in our neck of the woods.

Thanksgiving

We had a wonderful Thanksgiving. We hope you did too. We have much for which to thank Him.

The Kids and Other News

The kids, looking...special. They are our joy and our undoing.

On Monday we'll be traveling to a nearby wildlife preserve to spend Thanksgiving with people who work in our company--people who have become dear friends, who have our backs when we need it, and who understand this ex-pat life. I need this time with like-minded friends...I won't be blogging for a few days, but we will take pictures. We'll post them soon. Have a wonderful Thanksgiving and hold your loved ones close.

Let it Snow

There is nothing like Daddy coming home after a week of intense work. Tonight is the night and we are ready. Oh, and it snowed a little today. What could be better? You'd think Santa himself had shown up for how excited my kids were (well, and the monkeys for that matter). D said, "Oh now I can finally say I've seen snow." It was merely a dusting and I, for one, am hoping for more than that when J's parents come and visit for Christmas. Although that does mean very cold weather and all we have is space heaters...Ok, on second thought, maybe a dusting is fine...

Ivneet

This woman lives in my building. She's my age, has two young sons, and seems to enjoy our conversations. We have a budding friendship, and it works better for peers to have open, frank discussions here than when one person is much older than the other. Although I love this girl's mother-in-law and aunt (I've written about my landladies previously), she is who I believe He has placed in my path for a deeper relationship. Would you lift her up? She's intelligent, sweet and a wonderful mom. But she's also timid, fearful, and insecure. Most of all, she doesn't know the One who loves her. I want to do right by this relationship. It's a day-in, day-out proposition. I'm inconsistent and frail. But greater is He who is in me than he who is in the world. That's what I'm hanging my hat on today.

In the Moment

I've said it before: a busy life equals a boring blog. I'm hunkered down here, teaching the kids, trying to keep my temper and to press on. It takes everything I've got, and lots more that I don't. It means that I can't even think about two hours from now.

I read a study recently that strongly suggests that humans are the happiest when they focus on the task in front of them--that, strangely, the more they allow their minds to wander (even if their thoughts are pleasant ones) the further their happiness quotient plummets.

It's part of the human condition to daydream, to take what I call mental 'screen saver' breaks. But it would seem that to be satisfied one should practice being present in his or her daily tasks. And so I suppose I'm trying to be 'here' this week and not on a beach with my sisters. Which is to say, not on auto-pilot. It's surprisingly hard for me which means I probably should have been practicing it ages ago.

So there you have it. I'm present in the moment, and that means I can't remember my kids' funnies ten minutes ago, or recall the deep thoughts I had as I was trying to fall asleep last night. But that's gonna have to be ok for now. Because the kids are calling me...

Because a Picture...

You can't know how much I mean it...

Coming Soon

I just wanted to let you all know that our 2011 calendars of this region will be going to print next week. They've turned out really well and we're very pleased. If you're interested in getting one (or more) and you live in the Bowling Green or Danville areas (or I've spoken to you personally) be sure to pick one up. My mom will be handling the Bowling Green shipment and J's mom the Danville one. Other people are receiving them in different areas around the country. If you live near them and are interested, they'll let you know more...

Oh! One more thing. I have a shipment of the sweetest little baby sweaters that are soon to arrive in Bowling Green. My landlady knits them and they are precious! Perfect Christmas gifts for new moms. Again, they'll be in Bowling Green. Talk to my mom or message her on Facebook.

Smiling in Hindi

J is back. Here are some village kids he met this time.

Weirdo

We've been listening to i-Tunes radio these days. It's Christmas music or bust, baby. We need the extra cheer around here. I'll admit that I've even been working out to it. (Strange-but-true fact: working out to the Hallelujah Chorus almost made me cry today, in a good way).

But I digress.

G came into my bedroom this afternoon and that old, weird version of I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus came on the radio. The one where the woman is trying to sound like a little kid, but instead sounds like she's been at the helium pump again. Anyway, G's head snapped to attention and she was clearly disturbed.

G: Mom, what...is that? Is that a castrato?

(Another strange-but-true fact: G is deathly afraid of medieval men who have been castrated so that they sing soprano...)

Me (suppressing laughter unsuccessfully): No, sweetie. That's a woman trying to sound like a little kid.

G: Well, you know something? That doesn't sound like a little kid, Mom. That lady sounds like a weirdo.

And there you have it. That girl calls it as she sees it, folks.

Goodness

Maybe you know this already. Or maybe you don't. But I've just got to tell you from personal experience: God is faithful. All the time. I can't go into everything right now, but I just wanted to testify to his undeserved, lavish, sweet, unfailing goodness.

Selah.

Request

This is G. He's the young man J shared with in the car last week. Would you lift him up?

Traffic

J drove behind this "vehicle" today. You just never know...

Happy Diwali From Us To You

Remember

Please don't forget to lift up the little ones of our country.

Next Door Neighbor

We see these guys all the time.

Absurd

My son is smart. All my kids are smart, but that middle kid is strangely smart. He's seven and has read Huck Finn in its entirety. I quizzed him about the main point of the story, and he got it. Anyway, he's always coming out with wry sentiments. He'll utter deep thoughts, replete with seven-dollar words (inflation, you know) and sigh like a sage. He'll knit his brows together, shaking his head, vaguely displeased with the world.

I'm used to all this by now. So why do I still laugh when I hear things like this?

Me: Kids, I'm sorry the power is out again. Family game night is going to have to be a game of cards by flashlight.

Middle Son: Ah, India. Absurd. Absurd and sublime.

Ahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

My New Baby

After not working out for 18 months, I attempted it today. I only made it for 20 deadly minutes. I almost threw up, but in my defense, I've never worked out at 7,000 feet above sea level before. Hint: it's hard.

The Right Time

J comes home on Saturday evening. It could not come soon enough. We've had a tough week here without him, but we've survived and even ended on an up note. I'm thankful.

A quick request: On the way back to our city, J will spend eight hours in the car with our landlord's young, unmarried son. He's 23 and very warm and personable. It'll be the perfect opportunity for J to share his testimony with Gorev. Would you pray on your Friday night for J to have the right words to say and that the HS would work? That'll be when it's going on for us.

Love.

It's So True

"Life is what happens to you when you're busy making other plans."
--John Lennon

True Confessions

Yesterday I was worn out. J isn't here, I'm homeschooling doggedly, it's cold in the house and we've had no hot water. So when I dragged myself downstairs to talk with the young mother who lives in our building, I was in a, uh, candid mood. She asked me how I was doing. She's like a little bird, that lady. I almost expect her to cock her head to one side like a robin as she quizzes me amidst chirps.

And how did I answer her, this woman for whom English is a second language? I said, "Um, you know what? I'm really tired because I don't sleep well when J is gone. But the real issue is that I struggle with depression. Now I do have a deep inner peace that comes from the Lord. When I pray and spend time in the Bible I know that everything is going to be ok. But in the end, this is something I battle with--this abiding blueness. It sneaks up on me sometimes before I know what hit me. So...you know..."

And she turned her bird head to look into my eyes a bit better. I could tell she didn't really understand. She asked many questions like Did something sad happen to you? If you are with your husband is it ok? Perhaps will going out into the city help? And when I answered that this is a brain chemistry thing that started in high school and runs in our family, she remained slightly perplexed.

But her eyes were soft and kind and she muttered that she's sometimes depressed too...

I attempt transparency when I'm brave enough. Sometimes the truth comes out, shoving it's way out of my mouth before I have a chance to check it. There are times when I'm ok with that. But here in the gauntlet of cultural difference and ambiguity, I never know if I'm doing more harm than good with my true confessions. Would you pray that my honesty will bring about more important conversations in the future? That my blurting of personal struggles will take one more brick out of the wall between me and my friends for His sake?

Thanks.

Our Town

Between myriad religious festivals and the fall carnival (ride at your own risk) it's a lively time of year, to say the least.

Boring Blog

I'm just missing J. Sigh. That's all. Boooooooring.

Ode to the Over-share

Ok, I'm back. It wasn't as tough as I thought for me to mind my own business. It was kind-of liberating, actually, to keep my kids' funnies to myself. But we know that all good things must come to an end, right? So here's to over-sharing.

Invisible Idols

I'm taking a Facebook fast for a week and I thought I better take a blog fast too. I've been surrounded by literal idol worship lately, but the thing I've been convicted of is that I have some personal, invisible idols of my own. I don't want to worship technology, so I'm letting it go for a few days. You know, to prove to myself that I can live without it.

I'll see you in a week...

What Do You Think?

Family members...

The Reason

Vegas in India

Today, as I was blow-drying my hair, I overheard my kids playing on my bed:

G: Hit me.

Oldest Son: Deal me in too.

Middle Son: I'm standing.

G: Blackjack!

Um, someone's husband must have taught her kids how to play cards 'cause that someone knows she didn't do it.

A Fish Out of Water

This afternoon the kids and I went downstairs to give a little face time to the women in our building and to get some fresh air. As soon as I sat down, one of the daughters-in-law who's close to my age asked me if I'd like to go with her and her kids to visit the 'swings' in town. To be clear, these aren't park swings. They're part of a rickety fairground that appears in the fall and remains until the weather gets too cold. I figured it would be a good time for the kids and a chance to build on my relationship with this particularly gentle and sweet woman.

While we were there two little beggar boys came up to me. As usual they saw my white face and thought I'd be good for a few rupees. My Indian friend warned me, "Don't give them anything. You really shouldn't." Now, if she hadn't been standing there I might have caved and slipped them some cash. The truth is, that's looked down-upon here and isn't considered helpful for anyone. (Actually, it's against the law to give to beggars since begging is illegal). But the real kicker was that I'd just seen both boys eating ice cream, and one of them had cotton candy in his hand! He didn't think I could speak Hindi and he kept telling me he needed food.

The ride operator who was standing by started to laugh when I answered the kid in Hindi. "Now listen, sweetie...I just saw you eating ice-cream and what's that in your hand right now, huh? I don't have food for you and you shouldn't ask me. You already ate. Now go." I was gentle but firm. The ride operator asked my friend, "She speaks Hindi?" The little boy seemed to sense that I wouldn't kick or shove him away the way someone who was born here would, so he stood very close to me--almost snuggling up and kept asking with a twinkle in his eye...He touched my arm and stuck out his bottom lip in a mock pout. I laid my hand on his shoulder and he felt so small, like one of my own kids.

I kept refusing and he followed us, asking our kids for money as well, as by this time it had turned into a game for him. Finally he left, still smiling and clearly not hungry. But the truth is I wanted to hug him and ask him his name, and make life better for him. People were staring at me and I hate that. I feel like a fish out of water here every single day of my life. Sometimes it's more pronounced than at other times but it's always there. This knowledge that I don't belong never goes away...

Highlights

• After teaching a class yesterday, J played four games of volleyball with his Indian students (all 20-somethings). He dominated, as you might imagine. Smile.
• A stray, but friendly little dog managed to get inside our landlord's apartment on the bottom floor. The whole family was in an uproar and seemed scared of it. They squealed and yelled in Hindi and tried to kick it...So I promptly went in, crouched down and spoke to the dog, picked him up, and escorted him out of the house. They laughed incredulously and stared at me as if I'd just walked on water. Dolly said, affectionately, "You are a friend to everybody." (A lovely, if untrue, thought. I suppose she thinks this carries over to dogs as well...)
  
• The kids got invited to our Muslim neighbor's house next door. This is a big deal and it's the first time it's happened. They've all played outside many times, but to be invited in is a bird of a different feather.
• Today was the third straight day of homeschooling with a full load of subjects where I didn't feel like completely giving up. And that, friends, is something.
  

Greater Love

J is gone again for a couple of days. Whenever he goes I count on D more than usual. I asked her tonight if she'd walk down to the corner store and get me some Cokes. I added that I didn't really need them. I just wanted them and if she didn't mind one way or the other, could she get them?

She smiled shyly and said, "I would get anything for you." I didn't know what to say. She loves us like I'm not sure we've been loved before. Of course the feeling is mutual, but we have lots of friends and extended family and she doesn't. We are her family now.

Greater love has no one than this, that someone lay down his life for his friends. Jn 15:13

Mountain People

I'm reading Silas House's novels these days. His depictions of the mountain people of Kentucky are subtle, heartfelt and spot-on. Reading his prose (which is more like love poetry to his people) is like wiggling a loose tooth. It aches, but it's the good kind of sore-pain that I find myself going back to again and again.

I love my Kentucky heritage and Silas House's writing feels like he's whispering a secret only he and I know. What surprised me the most about his take on mountain people is how much in common they share with the mountain people of India. We all suspect that, deep down, people are pretty much the same everywhere. But it's always slightly shocking to find familiar traces closer to the surface.

If only I were a doctoral student I might make it my thesis. Hmmm...

The Wizard of Oz

After our family worship time today, we ordered chicken from a local restaurant (a special treat) and then piled on our bed to watch the classic film The Wizard of Oz. We invited D to join us and she happily agreed. Now D was born in Nepal and raised in India, and the girl cut her teeth on Bollywood films. In fact, she still loves them with a passion and can recite many a line from this Hindi film and that one. I was mildly interested to see what her reaction to Dorothy and Toto would be since she'd never seen the famous American movie.

Well, in short, she loved it. And I guess it's no wonder, really. Bollywood is all about color, improbable plot twists, infinite costume changes, and big song-and-dance numbers. So the man in a lion suit, the glittering red shoes, and flying monkeys were...strangely familiar, in a corn-fed, Midwestern way. She seemed to get it, which made me unexpectedly happy.

Maybe that's because it's nice when someone understands a piece of your history, a little glimpse into the culture that shaped you. After all, as Dorothy says, There's no place like home.

Sweet Peach

Happy Birthday, my sweet middle sister. You have been my friend for longer than I can remember. My constant companion in adulthood and that sweet, scary adventure we call motherhood. We've watched each other change and grow. But I'll never outgrow you, Satch. I just wanted you to know.

I Was Right

Remember when I said birthday decorations here look like toilet paper? And you thought I was being mean and judgemental? Well, this is pink toilet paper. So see, I was right. So there.

M.O.P.S. for Monkeys

Enjoying one another's company.

Mother love.

Nursing.

As we started our family devotional time today, we heard a commotion out on our front porch. Turns out some moms with babies had decided to stop by.

Wapas Aiya

J is back home, tired and happy. The kids are downstairs playing with the neighborhood kids. I just ate razma (a favorite of mine) and I hear D laughing from the kitchen. Good times.

Time

J called last night and things where he is right now are, quite simply, better than we could have imagined. Hungry people are being fed, those who've been fed are feeding others, and, well, things are happening. For the kids and me, the weather is sunny and cool and we've had no daddy-is-gone catastrophes. There are many things for which to be thankful...

In honor of beautiful days everywhere, we decided to do math out on our front porch this afternoon. The wind ruffled our workbook pages and the clouds made shadows on their bright white surfaces. We added and subtracted to the hum of woman-chatter, far-off car horns, and carpet sellers' songs as they hawked their wares on the front path beneath us. We let our eyes wander off multiplication tables to watch a grandmother tend a baby, and a monkey leap off a high tree and on to a roof.

We took the time to ponder and it was good.

Bread

J travels for the next couple of days. He leaves in about an hour. The kids and I will be hunkering down in our respective studies and enjoying the gorgeous weather. Please lift J up as he seeks to feed hungry spirits with bread that can't be bought.

When You Have No Yard...

...you think small. Here the kids play with tiny Lego figures on our front porch/balcony.

Two Sons + One Daughter=This

G's attempt to eek a little joy out of playing soldiers with her brothers.

'Tis the Season

When the sun comes out, so does the laundry...

Then and Now

First birthday.

Beloved blankie.

A joy to be around from the very beginning.

Breakfast staple--bananas and peanut butter toast.
Nine years old. Still sweet, generous, and responsible. We love you, baby. Happy Birthday.

Strictly Speaking

Middle Son informed me today that he was feeling lemoncholy. Which, naturally, means that he's sad and sour with a high level of acidity.

Ah, my little old man. I do know what you mean.

Q:

...Does it make me a dork that I love Rosetta Stone Hindi the way some people love Sudoku?

On second thought, don't answer that.

When You Can't Have A Dog

Morning Has Broken

It's official (uh, I think). Monsoon is over. The sun shines defiantly over our diamond lake. The air is clean and yellow with light. Gone is the grayness that hung over our city like a hospital blanket. Mold dies under the pressure-gaze of sunlight. Depression (my constant companion) weakens by the hour.

The Good Dad

As a dad J is The Real Deal. Since he is human his kids get on his nerves sometimes, especially now that he spends more time working from home than he used to, and they are in his face a lot. But he's still a very good dad. Today he made the kids cardboard daggers which they colored and bejewelled gleefully. They are into playing battle these days for some reason. Maybe it's because our focus verses have been Ephesians 6: 10-12. Whatever the reason, at the moment they are skipping around the apartment making whooshing, slaying noises and then pausing to admire their weapons again.

Thanks, J, for being yourself. 'Cause you know I would never make a cardboard dagger, and that's no lie.

Different Strokes

Today we spent a good part of the day with two like-minded Indian friends from our city. They're newlyweds and a great deal of fun to be around. Since they were with us over the lunch hour we offered them dhal chawal, chutney and salad.

The fun thing is, they're both from the village and they eat with their right hands. I mean they literally eat with their hands. All our Indian friends swear that skipping the silverware (or cutlery, as they call it) makes every food taste better. So today J and I decided that we'd let our friends teach us the fine art of eating rice and soupy dhal using only fingers.

You should have seen the look on our kids' faces when we told them that they could mash up their rice, pinch it, and plop it in their mouths. G's eyes shone as she breathed, "This is gonna be SO FUN." And it was. Turns out, though, that eating with your right hand (and it can only be your right hand since the left is used for bathroom purposes here in South Asia) requires a little more finesse than you might imagine.

In the end, we all agreed that eating without silverware does make meals more fun, if a little messy at this stage. We feel ready for the village now. Next time I have the chance to go to K-town, I'll be able to join everyone else and eat like a pro--on the floor, with my right hand.

Life

We spent last week in another city, one that feels a lot like home for us. It was the first place we settled for awhile when we first came to India. It was so good to see familiar faces, both brown and white, and to catch up on the happenings in our dear friends' lives. The week flew too quickly and before we knew it, we found ourselves on the night train and on our way back home.

We came back to our city--one that had experienced unprecedented flooding and icy rain for days. Our landlady informed us, disapprovingly, that there had been no electricity coming to the apartment for days and no water. We climbed the stairs to find her absolutely correct. Our apartment was a dark, chilly cave. But, as usual, there were little sustaining mercies. The power came on for about 10 minutes once--just enough time to make a pot of (sorely-needed) coffee, and to check our e-mail. Then it was out again.

This lasted for about 36 hours, and then things righted themselves. The Lord is gracious and good all the time. We're washing and drying clothes now, watching the taps slowly begin to give full streams of water, and we're happy. Coming back to this city felt like coming home and we were grateful that our apartment sustained almost no damage from the rains.

Now I'm waiting for my homeschool curricula to arrive. The rains have slowed down the couriers. The kids are happy for the unexpected reprieve from phonics, history, and hand writing as we wait. I'll be back to studying my Hindi on my own again after quite a break. It pulls me back in, this language, like a giant invisible magnet, and I cannot stay away for too long.

Oldest Boy's birthday is on the 29th of this month and he eagerly awaits the momentous event--he's turning nine. But you'd think by his talk that he's turning 18. The kids are growing, our work is flourishing, and our hearts are changing, little by little.

Nan Devi

A festival of the two-headed goddess. Men carry her through the city while people throw rice at her. Finally she's placed in the lake to drown. Not sure of all the significance, but I know it kept us from sleeping last night.

Home

Daddy is home. Sigh. I can finally sleep again.

The Good, The Bad, and The Inappropriate

A lot has been going on for our family lately. There's our friends leaving our city, the mystery plague we've all lovingly shared, and then today a riot which took place two buildings down from our apartment. (It has fizzled out so I'm not worried, but it was something to see, I can tell you).

J called from another village to tell me that things are going great there and that it's been one of the best experiences he's had--if not the best--in our 1.5 years here. That makes everything else seem worth it.

But on a lighter note, I went through some items my kids no longer use and I decided to send them downstairs so that my landlady could give them to those in need. She's Sikh and part of her religion involves helping the poor, so I thought this little arrangement would work out great.

But I'm also a ditz, as my sisters will tell you.

Wanna know something else about Sikhs? Sikhs don't cut their hair. It's quite literally against their religion. The men keep very long, neatly waxed beards and the women often have braids that fall to their knees. So I should not have said what I said next:

Me (after dropping off several garbage bags of clothes and toys): Thanks so much for taking these things from me. They were taking up too much space in the apartment. I feel like I've just gotten a haircut. I feel great!

My landlady (glassy-eyed):

Me (as my brain registers the faux pas and I whisper an involuntary crap): Ok, bye!

Yeah...

Update

For those of you who asked, J is getting better every day. In fact, he left for the mountains tonight (with his boss) and will be gone for a couple of days. He still feels weak and shaky, but this assignment was too important to pass up or delay, so he's going in faith.

The medical professionals we talked to think that J (and now the rest of us) has been battling H1N1 (also known as Swine Flu) rather than Dengue. It is rampant around here these days because of monsoon, apparently. Anyway, I've been feeling bad the last two days (though not nearly as bad as J felt. Yay for mommunity). The kids have been complaining of aches and fatigue. And there's really nothing we can do except drink lots of (bottled) water, sleep, and take acetaminophen. Oh, and pray. We're doing all the above.

When we rise from the ashes, I'll let you know. Love.

Boo

J is slowly getting better. Thank you for the prayers. Please keep them coming as I am tanking out now.

Crazy

We are in crazyland right now. J feels wretched and has for a few days. We went to the doctor and he didn't know what was wrong. Long story short: it looked like J had Dengue Fever, but now it seems he has Swine Flu. Why 'seems,' you ask? Because we live in a small, remote town without great medical care. Even 'tests' run by doctors here are 'inconclusive' and unhelpful. Now I'm not making sweeping statements about all health care in this country. In mega cities people come from all over the world to participate in medical tourism because of relaxed government regulations (read: do it at your own risk) and amazingly low costs. It's just that most cities don't offer the health care that those few famous cities afford.

So we're waiting it out. J feels like his bones are broken. His joints hurt like mad, he has a fever and chills. I feel so bad for him but what can I do? No one ever called me Florence Nightingale. All I can do is give him generic acetaminophen (we're out of American Tylenol), try to let him sleep, and pray like anything that I'm not wiped out next. Would you pray that too? For me and the kids? And that J will heal quickly? He's got a job assignment to perform on Wednesday...

Movie Saturday

J is sick with an ear infection. We needed peace and quiet today and so we decided to watch a movie, the new Alice in Wonderland, on our Mac. We used iTunes, which is pure genius when one lives overseas and has no access to Hollywood Video. I popped popcorn (over a gas flame) and we ate Indian chocolate. It was a raging success, all in all. And though I'm no feminist, I must admit that I pretty much loved the new Alice. That's mostly because I'm taken in by anything Tim Burton does. He really does know what my dreams are made of. Does that make me mad, I wonder? Hmmm...Perhaps it does.

Headlines

All in a day's work, people...

Promises

Phir Milenge, Hamare Pariwar

Bon Voyage, Lovelies