9
April

The value of a life

We got a call late at night last Wednesday. It was from our driver, who was distraught, and let Willy know that his neighbour had died, that he may need some time off. Willy told him to take the time that he needed, and hung up, concerned. We were surprised when Subbu arrived the following morning to take Willy to work. He explained it simply by saying that it helped to stay with routine. He was clearly shaken, and on the way to Willy’s office explained that it was his neighbour’s seventeen year old son who had died, and that he had committed suicide because his grades were poor. We were both shocked and saddened to hear this. Almost a week later I am still troubled. How could this happen, how could he think that this was his only choice?

My first instinct was to blame the parents. I’ve never met them, nor do I know anything about them or their family; I made some big assumptions. I do know that there is tremendous pressure in India for a child to improve their standing, to do better than their parents. I have read several articles that allude to parental pressure for success, including one that told not of a suicide, but of a twelve year old girl whose father forced her to beg on the streets when her grades were not to his expectation. I have also observed parental expectation first hand throughout our community. Success is not enough; the children are expected to excel, to surpass their peers too. That being said, I am wrong to solely blame the parents. While they may have had some expectation that their son do well, I am certain that they did not want to see him take his life.

It is widely reported that suicide rates in India, especially among youth and female youth in particular are extremely high. There are numerous media reports of children as young as eleven taking their own lives, often because they feel they have done poorly in school, they have actually failed or received a low grade, or that they worry that their parents cannot afford to send them to the post-secondary schooling that they will need to complete to better themselves. It saddens me to think that so much emphasis can be placed on schooling and marks for these children.

In the recent past, the Indian government has put into place measures that help families send their children to schools, and to help those in the lowest class improve their standing. What they haven’t done is help to teach those who hold positions of power the value of a human life. We frequently see labourers performing their tasks in very unsafe conditions. It happens in the community we live in, for example the man who sprays to protect us from the mosquitoes. We know that he is using a toxic chemical, and close up the house the minute that we hear his fogging machine start up in the distance. He rides by, and is not wearing any sort of protection from the harmful chemicals that he is breathing and coming into contact with. There is no way that he cannot be harmed by the chemicals, yet he has nothing to offer any protection. He may have chosen not to, but in all likelihood he either doesn’t know the risks, or hasn’t ever been given anything to wear. His employers need to ensure that he is protected, that his health has value, and they haven’t.

I am fortunate in that I am not poor, and I live in a country with ample opportunity for both of my children to follow their dreams and be successful, on their own terms. This has been a sobering reminder to me that I need to not only teach the lils to want to do well and succeed in life, but that success must also be defined in terms of their happiness; and that a life has value that cannot be diminished by a failure to achieve a milestone, or a belief that they may not meet anyone’s expectations.

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6
April

The white flag

Today I had to do something that I never do willingly. I gave up, threw in the towel, surrendered, waved the white flag… It wasn’t the end of two long weeks with the lils at home that did me in, because they have actually been pretty great. It wasn’t the weather, though it has been pretty hot, even for Bangalore. It wasn’t even the fact that neither our oven nor our water purifier have been fixed, despite daily calls and promises of the imminent arrival of a technician or two. We aren’t doing much baking, but that safe, clean water thing? It’s pretty important to me. The thing that did me in was a cold. A really bad, miserable cold.

I rarely used to get sick, and when I did it was not that bad. This has changed since we had the lils, I get sick more often, but I generally don’t wallow. I am usually chasing after the lils, so I play the martyr and push through. This has made be become somewhat unsympathetic when those around me are feeling ill. By somewhat unsympathetic I mean to say that the phrase “suck it up, buttercup” is often uttered when Willy is sick. He was sick this week, and I was my typical supportive and loving self. I am sure he appreciated it. Now I feel that I should have been a little more concerned, and maybe cut him some slack.

This morning basically saw me moping around the house, doing the bare minimum required to keep the lils safe and watered. Willy basically dropped everything and came home when I made vague references to my inability to care for our children in an email I sent. He blew off work, sent me to bed, took care of the lils, fed me when I whined and never once complained or pointed out what a wuss I was. As a result I am feeling much better, and a wee bit guilty. I hope that I will remember this guilt the next time that he is sick with a mancold, but the reality is I’m just as likely to blame him for making me sick, and hold that against him!

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15
March

Plan B

I am really lucky to have two great friends from home visiting this week and next.  We have been planning for their visit since about a week after Willy and I announced that we were moving to Bangalore, so this has been a LONG time coming.  I am really enjoying their company, and think they are coping pretty well with having to hang out with me!

The visit has forced me into the role of tour guide, which I am not entirely comfortable with.  Willy is an excellent tour guide.  He reads the blurbs, gets the audio guide, or has someone provide him with a guided tour, then REMEMBERS it all and passes it on to whomever he next shares the place with.  He also has an uncanny ability to know exactly where he is and how to get to where you want to be without needing maps, GPS`s, or quickly and quietly ascertaining which is his left or right hand*. Sadly, he has to work (hello, sugar daddy!) so I am that gal for this trip.

Thankfully, I had an ace up my sleeve for this trip, in that I have spent very little time exploring the city markets that are scattered about.  I was saving them for Tamara and Chris, as they too are photographers, and I knew they would be happy to walk around and shoot with me.  About four weeks ago, I decided that I wanted to take them to Russell Market, one of the oldest markets in Bangalore.  One week after that, a large fire broke out overnight and caused significant damage to the building.

I was sad to learn of that, but put the thought out of my mind until yesterday, when we were planning our week.  They were keen to market, so I asked around and was told that the market was expected to re-open this morning!  We though it was perfect timing and set off.  When we arrived, I was clear that the market was indeed operational, but few stalls were open, and about three quarters of the stalls were under repair.  I know I felt let down and could tell that Tamara and Chris were hoping for a little bit more.

Thinking, I stepped to the side and whipped out my phone to determine that one of the other major markets (K.R. Market) was reasonably close.  We headed to the car and verified that Subbu knew exactly where we wanted to go.  Upon arrival it was clear that we were not to be disappointed. The sights, the smells, the bustle and the sounds all amounted to a bit of sensory overload and a photographer’s paradise.  We happily watched and shot away the next hour or so.  Thank goodness I had been there before and was able to use it as a back-up plan!

KR Market
*yes, I am THAT directionally challenged. 

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14
March

Wordless Wednesday – Holi

 

 

*photos by Willy*

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11
March

High Five!

Dear Woo:

Happy birthday! Today you are five! So happy and proud to be growing older and more independent, you move through life at a lightening speed, but have a keen interest to learn everything and anything about whatever strikes your fancy. You challenge us to learn more, so that your world can broaden. Books are your windows to things that have happened in the past, new information, and places that you want to go visit. Your favourite thing to do is take a quiet moment (or hour) with a new book, and get lost in the story.

This year was a year for many new things for you… first formal schooling, first roller blades, biking with only two wheels, moving across the globe, learning to make new friends and coping when it is not easy, drawing real pictures, reading chapter books, writing, learning that it is OK to be happy in India and still miss home, sleeping through your first cyclone, and many, many adventures in India. I could list a thousand ways that you have grown this year, and still not list them all. You also grew a few inches taller too!

It is very clear that you have collected traits from both your dad and me. Like me, you love to take photos, and dabble and experiment in the kitchen (even if you occasionally end up with apple milkshakes). Like your dad, you love to take things apart (and sometimes leave them like), love playing all sports, and can focus on tasks with an unshakable determination. It is so nice to see little pieces of each of us, in you.

My caring little boy who is not so little anymore, it warms my heart to see how much you love life and demonstrate your love to the people in your life.

Love,
mama

Walking
walking with Goose in your favourite haunt, the Museum of Nature

Summer fun
dandelion fluff

Woo
hanging out in the back yard

Summer Fun
summer fun with your pal Goose

Trainspotting
trainspotting

Looking for snails
looking for snails at Mud Lake

Big Boy!
school!!

I touched an elephant
meeting an elephant

Second trip up the street
two wheelin’

Smiley guy
smiley guy

Family at the Taj Mahal
at the Taj Mahal

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20
February

The yeller

We are very lucky, in that the people that we have working for us, our “helpers” as the lils call them, are great. They are hardworking, trustworthy, and most importantly, they do an awesome job. Prior to moving to Bangalore, I had read that these qualities might be hard to come by. We kept an open mind, and are glad to have easily found people that contradict those claims.

We have had a little bit more difficulty with getting work done with some contractors and third parties. I think part because there is a very strong need to adhere to chain of command, and the workers will not carry out a task unless it is the one that they were sent to do, even if they can and the problem is related. The flipside is that labour is VERY cheap in India, so a lot of these people are not making a great wage. It seems that there is little motivation to do some work, or work above the minimum required.

We try to be pretty easy going about the little things that need some love in the house, but we have had a few issues in the last six weeks or so that have needed attention. Our landlord has a handyman that is supposed to stop by every Wednesday, so I kept thinking “oh, I will mention this to handyman when he is here this week”, only to notice that the week would end and he hadn’t come by. Then the hot water heater in our bathroom started leaking enough to make a mess and waste a decent amount of water, so we called the landlord with a list and another complaint that the handyman was not coming by. Handyman showed up that day, ascertained that the water heater, some taps, and possibly our oven all needed replacing, and claimed to set the ball in motion on those.

Three weeks go by, and he hasn’t come back. The water heater is apparently going to be replaced by the manufacturer, but the oven is still wonky, the taps are still leaking, and we woke up this morning to a puddle on the floor in the kitchen. We make another call, and again note that the handyman is not coming by weekly.

I do a quick inspection and deduce two things, the tap is now leaking a significant amount (about three liters per hour, judging by how quickly it fills a measuring cup) and the fix that he used when the sink was leaking in early January is no longer holding. It could be because this fix was electrical tape. Now, I am not a plumber, or an electrician, but I have done my fair share of minor plumbing repairs, and installed the pump at the cottage more than a few times. I know that electrical tape is for … electrical work.

As luck would have it, when handyman looks, the sink is not leaking. I have been trying not to use the sink, and have not been using the hot water, which makes it worse… so of course it is not working. I explain this to him, and he responds that it is OK. The lils pull me away as I am telling him that it is NOT OK, and I come back to him still in the kitchen, looking ready to leave. I ask what he is going to do to fix it, and he again tells me that it is OK, it is fixed.

This is when I lose it a little, and become the crazy angry lady that yells, I am sure (even though I just hardened my voice and raised it a smidge, really). “It is NOT fixed,” I say, “You did nothing. Ask Willy, ask my maid, they both saw the puddle. Do you think that I imagined that? That I made that up? If it happens again and one of the lils slips and hurts their head* I am going to be REALLY ANGRY.“ Handyman gave me a frightened look and set to work on actually fixing the leaks under the sink. He took it all apart, retaped and glued as necessary. This fix might actually hold!

*because they ALWAYS hurt their heads*

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10
February

Making raita

This recipe of mine was originally posted on A Bit of Foodsense. Go check it out, there is some great stuff on there!

The first time I was introduced to the idea of raita, I was grossed out. It, in what I knew to be it’s most common form, was a salad of yogurt and cucumber after all. How could they go together and taste good? Then I started eating and loving Tzatziki, a different type of yogurt and cucumber dish, so decided to give it a go. One taste and I was hooked. I was glad that I took the risk, as it soon became a favourite for our Indian dining.

I was particularly happy when a friend of my sister-in-law’s offered to teach us some Indian dishes and this was one of them. She was originally from eastern India but lived in Canada for a few years before moving to the UK. This recipe is largely based on what she taught us, but I have tweaked it to suit our tastes. Though I generally like my raita thicker than what you will see Bangalore, I feel that it is authentic in taste. The one small piece of Indian cuisine that I feel I have nailed!

Now that we live in India, there is a batch of raita in our fridge at all times. We all eat it on its own all the time, but have also gained a new appreciation for this side dish. Apparently it is for more than just dipping your naan or roti in! Raita helps to cool the really spicy dishes that we eat, and adds a really neat complexity to the flavour of biriyani when mixed into it. Many of the raitas here are also way more adventurous in their prepation with an assortment of vegetables – and fruits – thrown in. I’m a little more reserved.

Ingredients:
2 small /1 large English cucumbers, seeded and grated
1 small red onion, chopped finely
1 really ripe medium tomato, chopped
freshly ground black pepper
2 cups of thick, high fat plain yogurt*
2-3 tbsp freshly squeezed lemon juice
1 tsp ground cumin
chopped fresh cilantro

Directions:
Mix first six ingredients together. Top with cilantro immediately before serving.

*the Méditerranée yogurt by Liberté is the best yogurt for this salad. If I can’t find it, I will buy a larger quantity of a lower fat yogurt and strain it in cheesecloth for a couple of hours prior to adding it to the salad.

** This is best if made day of use, but left to sit and mellow in the fridge for few hours

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7
February

A taste of freedom

We knew that this day was coming, the day when Woo would start going off on his own. I thought at first that he would go for little distances, but I knew that they would grow and get longer with each little taste. It started with a trip to the park. Willy and Goose had gone off on their own, I was cooking dinner and Woo really wanted to go to the park. I said “Sure, you can go to the park.” I held my breath and waited. He went up the streat, around the corner and out of sight. I knew he needed to walk through the clubhouse and past the pool, and he did, going straight into the park and starting to play. He bumped into Daddy and Goose, and when the three of them arrived home together 20 minutes later, I started breathing again. He did it though, he did what I asked, and went where he said he would.

The next big step was when we removed his training wheels from his bicycle. All of a sudden he didn’t want to just ride on our little six street house anymore. He wanted to go around the corner and down the long stretch of the main road to the speedbump. It would more than quadruple the distance that he was able to ride, and would mean that he was out of our sight for a much longer period of time. We said yes. The first time he went I held my breath until he came back to circle in front of our house and go off again. He repeated this over and over. Eventually I stopped holding my breath. He loves to ride and he loves this little taste of freedom that we have given him. He has respected it so far.

This weekend our community had family fun days. We were in the park for long stretches of time, and the lils were left to run and play with new friends. We were watching them, but they were having fun playing with all the other children and were stayign close by. On Saturday afternoon Willy had a volleyball game, so he and Woo went to the park while I waited for Goose to wake from nap. We knew Woo didn’t want to watch, he mostly wanted to run and ride and play.

He quickly found the two little girls that live next door to us and the three of them raced around the park on their bicycles. Willy played his game, catching glimpses of the little boy as he raced by, happily and freely. As I left the house to join them, I noticed that Woo’s bike parked in front of our neighbors house. I guess he and the girls got tired of riding and headed there. When I got to the park Willy let me know that he had not asked to leave, but hadn’t been gone for long. We knew it was partially the excitement of play, and partially testing his boundaries, so we asked him more strongly to let us know when he wanted to leave the park. He agreed.

We met many new neighbours on Sunday, but one in particular stood out. As I introduced him to Woo, he said, “Oh, I know Woo. He and (the neighours) were in my house yesterday. I live over there.” He pointed to the far side of the community, a good distance from our house!! I think it is time to set a few more limits on that freedom, and maybe supervise a little closer!!

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1
February

Wordless Wednesday – I want to ride my bicycle

Last time.

Two wheeler

Take a deep breath

Ready to try!

Look, no hands!

Second trip up the street

Happy rider!

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1
February

Off to the ER we go

We knew that it was bound to happen, that one of us would get sick and need to see a doctor. It might be for normal, run of the mill check up reasons, but it was just as likely to mean that one of us was really sick. We dodged it over Christmas, when Woo had a fever of 103 for three days that broke and stayed down as we were trying to arrange a doctor in Pudicherry. We dodged it when Woo finally stopped projectile vomiting after eight hours a couple of weeks ago, right after I said “we go to the hospital if he vomits one more time”. We weren’t so lucky tonight.

This is where it gets a little TMI. You can skip the next two paragraphs if you want.

Woo woke Willy up to poop early yesterday morning, then he pooped again and again. He said he wasn’t in any discomfort, and we thought nothing of it. At most we thought his body disagreed with something he ate, and it was just clearing everything out. He wasn’t sick, no fever, no other symptoms. Just poop. I sent him to school, and he was fine all day. He reported that he pooped a few more times and then pooped a few more before bed. I started to get worried, and made the “if he is not finished pooping now, we find a doctor first thing”. He was fine from then on, and went to school full of beans this morning. He had a great, poop-free day, and settled on to the back patio for snack when we got home.

Then his trips to the bathroom started. Each time he sat down, he was up again in minutes, or even seconds. He just kept going and going and… (you get the idea). I was starting to get really worried, but didn’t get a chance to voice my concern when Willy let me know that there was now blood in his stool. We didn’t need to think about it. Hospital time. The lil boy was clearly unhappy, and now he was bleeding.

That is mostly it for the bodily fluids talk, if you skipped ahead, you can resume here.

Luckily the close calls coupled with Woo’s and my food allergies and his asthma, have meant that we have thought about how we go about getting to a doctor/hospital if our driver, Subbu, has gone home for the night. A quick call to him, and a driver who lives in the area (and drives for another family on our street), was on the way. While we were waiting, Willy called the medical assistance hotline that we are able to use through membership from his work. They were able to tell us what hospital that we should go to, and called ahead and spoke to the ER to let them know that Woo was on his way, and what his symptoms were. Willy and Woo headed off.

At the hospital, they were directed to the area where foreigners check-in, and the desk was aware that they were coming, and knew what was going on. They were immediately moved into an observation area, and were thoroughly examined and diagnosed within 40 minutes of arriving. FORTY minutes. Willy had all of his questions answered and a prescription in hand. He was pleased with how smoothly it all went, and how well taken care of they were. There was a cost for this, of course, the consultation and the prescription. It amounted to less than $10.00 CAD. He filled the prescription right at the hospital then headed home. On the way he was called back by the emergency hotline to ensure that all his questions were answered, and got to speak to one of their doctors on the phone to make sure that he was comfortable.

The diagnosis? That intense vomitting from a few weeks ago was likely food poisoning, and it developped in to a bacterial infection. I really hoped they nailed it, because this was stressful enough and can end really, really soon.  At least now we know what to do.

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