Tuesday, September 27, 2011
On the Road Again
The evening we left for Singapore, Vivian had a fever and the runs. Evan was being Evan. Jo and I were rushed because we discovered that we were departing a day ahead of when we thought we were. But it all came together and so far it's working out. Vivian has been amazing. This evening, a day later, she appears to almost be feeling normal again. Even Evan - with very little sleep, has been a good traveler. Our hotel in Singapore is great. The kids have their own room connected to ours - on the 52nd floor. Their room was decorated and accessorized according to their ages and sizes. Down to his and her tiny bath robes and rubber duckies.
It's Not So Simple
In Austin we put our recyclables in a big blue container, our trash in a big grey container, and garden waste in anything we can. The three end up at three different places. Mostly mechanized means are used to separate the recyclables from each other and based on the price of commodities, some or all of it actually gets recycled.
In Hyderabad, we put our trash out by the front door of the apartment. Someone comes in the morning and picks it up for a small fee, only to drop it off in a dumpster down the street. The dumpsters quickly fill up with trash. Then other people come by and empty all the trash on the street next to the dumpsters. They go through it all by hand, opening up all the trash bags. Paper, metal, plastic, glass, and other useful parts are carefully separated out, compacted by hand into neat piles, and filled in large sacks. Yet others come by and take these sacks away in three-wheeled trucks. Sometimes the useless portions are put back in the dumpsters. Periodically municipal trucks come and pick up the dumpsters. They take them to landfills and bring empty dumpsters back.
Here are some pictures of the rag pickers in operation. Due to a reflection off the windshield it's hard to see much. But you get a sense of what of the amount of trash on the street. Jo said that there was a story on NPR about the rag pickers. I describe their work as economically incented grass-roots organic recycling. And just like in so many other ways in India, people figure out a market-driven solution that works around the lack of public infrastructure.
On a different but related issue, Vivian was appalled at the amount to trash laying around. She wanted to go around town a stick signs that tell people to not litter. It's not uncommon for us to see children at the park eat candy and drop the wrappers right there. The parents don't seem to mind. Car windows open and people dump stuff on the streets. And then sweepers hand sweep the streets every morning and collect up all that trash.
In Hyderabad, we put our trash out by the front door of the apartment. Someone comes in the morning and picks it up for a small fee, only to drop it off in a dumpster down the street. The dumpsters quickly fill up with trash. Then other people come by and empty all the trash on the street next to the dumpsters. They go through it all by hand, opening up all the trash bags. Paper, metal, plastic, glass, and other useful parts are carefully separated out, compacted by hand into neat piles, and filled in large sacks. Yet others come by and take these sacks away in three-wheeled trucks. Sometimes the useless portions are put back in the dumpsters. Periodically municipal trucks come and pick up the dumpsters. They take them to landfills and bring empty dumpsters back.
Here are some pictures of the rag pickers in operation. Due to a reflection off the windshield it's hard to see much. But you get a sense of what of the amount of trash on the street. Jo said that there was a story on NPR about the rag pickers. I describe their work as economically incented grass-roots organic recycling. And just like in so many other ways in India, people figure out a market-driven solution that works around the lack of public infrastructure.
On a different but related issue, Vivian was appalled at the amount to trash laying around. She wanted to go around town a stick signs that tell people to not litter. It's not uncommon for us to see children at the park eat candy and drop the wrappers right there. The parents don't seem to mind. Car windows open and people dump stuff on the streets. And then sweepers hand sweep the streets every morning and collect up all that trash.
Filling Others Shoes
Evan loves to say the word shoes ("shzzzzz"). And enjoys putting on other's shoes even more. If he doesn't have a shoe fetish as an adult I'll be at least mildly amazed.
Reading Writing and Drawing
Vivian is getting pretty good at reading. Her school focuses on multiple methods including use of phonetics and something called sight reading - where each word is treated as a pictograph and kids are familiarized with the pictographs. So she can now put her finger on a sentence that's been read to her before and read it - in fits and starts and with errors, but still.
Yesterday when we were at grandpa's, she wrote her first sentence. All by herself with no prompting, no questions and no hints.
Then she drew a picture if grandpa. Note the glasses and that he's wearing a lungi. Grandpa isn't a smiler and I told Vivian as much. But when Vivian showed grandpa the picture he smiled just like that.
Yesterday when we were at grandpa's, she wrote her first sentence. All by herself with no prompting, no questions and no hints.
Then she drew a picture if grandpa. Note the glasses and that he's wearing a lungi. Grandpa isn't a smiler and I told Vivian as much. But when Vivian showed grandpa the picture he smiled just like that.
Maggi
Maggi Noodles were one of the major food groups in my college diet while in Pilani. I'm glad to say that the boy has acquired the same taste and eats it with even more vigor.
The Box
It arrived! Thanks, Carol.
Jo had ordered a few things online and had them sent to Carol's. Oh - the usual - a few bottles of bug spray, shoes for Evan, magic erasers, poop bags (fragrant little bags to dispose poopy diapers), and tampons. Jo requested that Carol mail the stuff using UPS. No one in India uses the mail service, preferring couriers instead. Carol hid Evan's rather expensive shoes in a box of tampons and took that and the rest to the UPS store in New Braunfels.
However, the lady at the UPS store decided to send it USPS - and therefore by extension, by the Indian Postal Service. We kissed the stuff good bye and resigned our children to a life of bug-bitten bare-footedness. We darkly imagined some Indian postal worker taking the box home to his family. Someone following the instructions on the box of tampons, but with it's new contents instead.
Now we shamefully recant our lack of faith in the mailmen and women of India. A few days ago there was a knock on the door. Two men disbelievingly brought the package to Jo like it was a rare trophy ("Look, someone from the US was crazy enough to entrust a box to us and we are actually delivering it"). They asked if the box was from America. They asked Jo if she was from America. They nodded approvingly at her answers. And they delivered the box and reluctantly left.
If you've been meaning to send us that box of chocolates and were not sure how to, the answer is USPS Priority Mail. Costs an arm and a leg, but we could be eating those chocolates in two short weeks if you act now.
Jo had ordered a few things online and had them sent to Carol's. Oh - the usual - a few bottles of bug spray, shoes for Evan, magic erasers, poop bags (fragrant little bags to dispose poopy diapers), and tampons. Jo requested that Carol mail the stuff using UPS. No one in India uses the mail service, preferring couriers instead. Carol hid Evan's rather expensive shoes in a box of tampons and took that and the rest to the UPS store in New Braunfels.
However, the lady at the UPS store decided to send it USPS - and therefore by extension, by the Indian Postal Service. We kissed the stuff good bye and resigned our children to a life of bug-bitten bare-footedness. We darkly imagined some Indian postal worker taking the box home to his family. Someone following the instructions on the box of tampons, but with it's new contents instead.
Now we shamefully recant our lack of faith in the mailmen and women of India. A few days ago there was a knock on the door. Two men disbelievingly brought the package to Jo like it was a rare trophy ("Look, someone from the US was crazy enough to entrust a box to us and we are actually delivering it"). They asked if the box was from America. They asked Jo if she was from America. They nodded approvingly at her answers. And they delivered the box and reluctantly left.
If you've been meaning to send us that box of chocolates and were not sure how to, the answer is USPS Priority Mail. Costs an arm and a leg, but we could be eating those chocolates in two short weeks if you act now.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
A Day in Our Life
We arrived in Hyderabad on Aug 3. We moved into our new apartment on Aug 21. So it's been a while. Vivian, Evan - if your memory is anything like mine, you may want to know what life was like when you were here.
I'll start with the mundane - by describing a day.
Jo and I take turns waking up with Dear Evan. He's usually up some time between 530am and 630am. He coos a few times and then gives out a full blooded scream. On my mornings I drag myself out of bed and wander over to his room. By this time he's usually divested himself of his swaddle blanket, and sometimes his diaper too. Upon seeing me he gives a very friendly and congenial "Hi". I change his diaper. Then he runs to the kitchen looking for food and vigorously taps his bunched fingers of both hands together - sign language for "more". On days when I'm even slower than usual he punctuates this with screams of "cracka". I get him fruit or crackers. Then I ask him to find his shoes. He runs to the front door yelling "shzzzzz". At the door he slips on the first pair he can find - usually Jo or my sneakers. I put him in the stroller and and walk down to the park. I cut him loose and he walks with me to the playground at one end. He plays on the slide and makes a mess in the sand. We walk back home. Evan wakes Vivian and hugs and kisses her till she manages to push him away.
Jo wakes up. We eat breakfast (some combination of Cheerios, pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, fruits). I beseech Vivian to eat while Evan gobbles what he wants and starts throwing food on the floor - which is our indication that he's done eating and wants down from his high chair. Vivian dresses herself, Jo does Vivian's hair, and we get out of the house by 830 to get Vivian to school. If it's a Monday morning, we squeeze in the last of homework somewhere in there.
School is about 10 minutes away. The street in front of the school is narrow. There's an empty plot of land opposite the school gates. A local politician (state labor minister) lives next to that plot. About 375 crazy Indians try to drive up to the school, drop off their kids, turn around, and drive back out of the lane while local security forces, police, and visitors park in front of the minister's home. This is the most chaotic traffic I will see all day - not because the streets aren't crazy, but this is a few orders of magnitude crazier than that.
Some times we stop in and say hello to my dad on the way back. Some times we go to Chote Mia's fruit stand on Road number 10. I buy papaya, apples (from Washington state), pears, cheekoos, sitafals, and pomegranates. Chote Mia is a good sales man and I return to the car with three times as much fruit I had intended to buy. Between hand selecting my fruits, Chote Mia watches female WWF wrestlers on TV.
We get back home and Savitri arrives. She lives in the servant quarters downstairs with her husband and two daughters. She quickly cleans Evan's room and Jo puts Evan down for his morning nap. We change and go downstairs where Chari is waiting for us in his car. Chari drives us to the club. Jo devises the day's punishment. We workout. The club gym closes as 11am, so it's mostly stragglers and "aunties" who are there at this hour. They are immensely curious about out crossfit workouts. We finish our workouts and shower and sometimes get a bite to eat at the colonnade or shop for groceries at the club shop. Chari drives us to Vivian's school where it's his job to navigate the crazy traffic while Jo and or I go pick Vivian up. About a third of the picker-uppers are parents. Almost all moms. The rest are drivers or ayyas. Vivian tells us about her day at school on the way back. Jo and I are curious about her snacks - so we usually ask her about that: Maggi noodles, dal and rice, vaddas, etc - brought in by other parents by turn. We wonder if the kids will like goldfish and carrot sticks when it's our turn.
Back at the ranch, Savitri has usually fed Evan some snack and cleaned the house by now. We eat lunch at home. Or at the Sailing Club. Or Sweet Nirvana. Then everyone naps.
Sometimes we meet friends for dinner. The other day (on a school night) we went out to a friend's house at 830pm and returned home after midnight. Often we cook at home. Sometimes we go out to a restaurant. Then we play, read, watch old Donald Duck cartoons on YouTube, dance, run around, skype. Then the kids get baths and go to bed. Jo and I chat. She goes to bed. It gets to be - yikes - 2:30am - and I hurriedly finish writing a blog post and crawl into bed. Evan will be up in three hours and it's my morning tomorrow. Another day in paradise.
I'll start with the mundane - by describing a day.
Jo and I take turns waking up with Dear Evan. He's usually up some time between 530am and 630am. He coos a few times and then gives out a full blooded scream. On my mornings I drag myself out of bed and wander over to his room. By this time he's usually divested himself of his swaddle blanket, and sometimes his diaper too. Upon seeing me he gives a very friendly and congenial "Hi". I change his diaper. Then he runs to the kitchen looking for food and vigorously taps his bunched fingers of both hands together - sign language for "more". On days when I'm even slower than usual he punctuates this with screams of "cracka". I get him fruit or crackers. Then I ask him to find his shoes. He runs to the front door yelling "shzzzzz". At the door he slips on the first pair he can find - usually Jo or my sneakers. I put him in the stroller and and walk down to the park. I cut him loose and he walks with me to the playground at one end. He plays on the slide and makes a mess in the sand. We walk back home. Evan wakes Vivian and hugs and kisses her till she manages to push him away.
Jo wakes up. We eat breakfast (some combination of Cheerios, pancakes, eggs, bacon, toast, fruits). I beseech Vivian to eat while Evan gobbles what he wants and starts throwing food on the floor - which is our indication that he's done eating and wants down from his high chair. Vivian dresses herself, Jo does Vivian's hair, and we get out of the house by 830 to get Vivian to school. If it's a Monday morning, we squeeze in the last of homework somewhere in there.
School is about 10 minutes away. The street in front of the school is narrow. There's an empty plot of land opposite the school gates. A local politician (state labor minister) lives next to that plot. About 375 crazy Indians try to drive up to the school, drop off their kids, turn around, and drive back out of the lane while local security forces, police, and visitors park in front of the minister's home. This is the most chaotic traffic I will see all day - not because the streets aren't crazy, but this is a few orders of magnitude crazier than that.
Some times we stop in and say hello to my dad on the way back. Some times we go to Chote Mia's fruit stand on Road number 10. I buy papaya, apples (from Washington state), pears, cheekoos, sitafals, and pomegranates. Chote Mia is a good sales man and I return to the car with three times as much fruit I had intended to buy. Between hand selecting my fruits, Chote Mia watches female WWF wrestlers on TV.
We get back home and Savitri arrives. She lives in the servant quarters downstairs with her husband and two daughters. She quickly cleans Evan's room and Jo puts Evan down for his morning nap. We change and go downstairs where Chari is waiting for us in his car. Chari drives us to the club. Jo devises the day's punishment. We workout. The club gym closes as 11am, so it's mostly stragglers and "aunties" who are there at this hour. They are immensely curious about out crossfit workouts. We finish our workouts and shower and sometimes get a bite to eat at the colonnade or shop for groceries at the club shop. Chari drives us to Vivian's school where it's his job to navigate the crazy traffic while Jo and or I go pick Vivian up. About a third of the picker-uppers are parents. Almost all moms. The rest are drivers or ayyas. Vivian tells us about her day at school on the way back. Jo and I are curious about her snacks - so we usually ask her about that: Maggi noodles, dal and rice, vaddas, etc - brought in by other parents by turn. We wonder if the kids will like goldfish and carrot sticks when it's our turn.
Back at the ranch, Savitri has usually fed Evan some snack and cleaned the house by now. We eat lunch at home. Or at the Sailing Club. Or Sweet Nirvana. Then everyone naps.
Sometimes we meet friends for dinner. The other day (on a school night) we went out to a friend's house at 830pm and returned home after midnight. Often we cook at home. Sometimes we go out to a restaurant. Then we play, read, watch old Donald Duck cartoons on YouTube, dance, run around, skype. Then the kids get baths and go to bed. Jo and I chat. She goes to bed. It gets to be - yikes - 2:30am - and I hurriedly finish writing a blog post and crawl into bed. Evan will be up in three hours and it's my morning tomorrow. Another day in paradise.
Can I get a Chapati with that?
I love my starches. Going paleo in Austin was hard - I missed rice and pasta. But I missed tortillas more. Growing up in Hyderabad, we always had fresh hot chapatis with dinner. So I naturally wanted to re-live that experience again.
One evening we got Savitri to come and make us chapatis while we ate dinner. That was pretty good. Jo watched her make the chapatis and announced that she would make them one day. I laughed.
Today lunch was that day. Jo pulled out the flour and started getting ready. I asked if I should make some rice as a backup. Jo told Vivian that Daddy doubted that she could make chapatis. I corrected her - I didn't doubt her - I disbelieved her.
A few minutes later we were eating delicious chapitis. They were so good we ran through them all and Jo had to get out some more flour and start all over again.
One evening we got Savitri to come and make us chapatis while we ate dinner. That was pretty good. Jo watched her make the chapatis and announced that she would make them one day. I laughed.
Today lunch was that day. Jo pulled out the flour and started getting ready. I asked if I should make some rice as a backup. Jo told Vivian that Daddy doubted that she could make chapatis. I corrected her - I didn't doubt her - I disbelieved her.
A few minutes later we were eating delicious chapitis. They were so good we ran through them all and Jo had to get out some more flour and start all over again.
Indian Princess
A couple of recent pictures of my princess. She's far from perfect. But it's hard to be mad at her for very long - even when I should be.
This evening I was getting ready to meet friends for a drink. It doesn't happen often. In fact I think I have done it once before during the month and a half. But that doesn't make it a popular decision. Over dinner Vivian expressed her full displeasure. "Daddy - I don't think you should go out this evening". I asked why not? This is what she had to say. Delivered quickly and efficiently without much drama:
"One: you have already been to the store to buy Mommy a cell phone" (I was out cell phone shopping this afternoon)
"Two: Mommy can't take care of two kids all by herself"
"Three: I don't want to be left at home"
"Four: I hope there's a dessert store where you are going" (ie., I hope you at least bring back dessert...)
"Five: I don't like you going out on dates with Sharath Uncle and not with Mommy and Evan and me"
"Six: I don't want to be left alone with Mommy"
"Seven: I don't like you leaving us here"
"Eight: I want you to stay at home and get some rest"
"Nine..."
That's when Sharath called from downstairs and I thankfully gave her a kiss and escaped.
This evening I was getting ready to meet friends for a drink. It doesn't happen often. In fact I think I have done it once before during the month and a half. But that doesn't make it a popular decision. Over dinner Vivian expressed her full displeasure. "Daddy - I don't think you should go out this evening". I asked why not? This is what she had to say. Delivered quickly and efficiently without much drama:
"One: you have already been to the store to buy Mommy a cell phone" (I was out cell phone shopping this afternoon)
"Two: Mommy can't take care of two kids all by herself"
"Three: I don't want to be left at home"
"Four: I hope there's a dessert store where you are going" (ie., I hope you at least bring back dessert...)
"Five: I don't like you going out on dates with Sharath Uncle and not with Mommy and Evan and me"
"Six: I don't want to be left alone with Mommy"
"Seven: I don't like you leaving us here"
"Eight: I want you to stay at home and get some rest"
"Nine..."
That's when Sharath called from downstairs and I thankfully gave her a kiss and escaped.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Picnic
By this afternoon we felt reasonably recovered from our first bout of Montezuma's Revenge. So we ventured out for a picnic. Suhiem took us out for a spin around Hussain Sagar on his boat.
Then we settled down for an excellent feast on the lawns of the park. Vivian decided to play at the nearby playground and was soon mobbed by a group of seventh and eight grade schoolgirls who were in town for a sports tournament. Then they discovered Evan. It is a small wonder we got our kids back.
Then we settled down for an excellent feast on the lawns of the park. Vivian decided to play at the nearby playground and was soon mobbed by a group of seventh and eight grade schoolgirls who were in town for a sports tournament. Then they discovered Evan. It is a small wonder we got our kids back.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Friday, September 09, 2011
Ganesh Puja at Khairatabad Market
We picked a day and time when the crowds would be light. Which was good because I pushed and got shoved by a few hundred people. Jo seemed to get the knack of it quickly. When we walked back to the car, Vivian said "Wow Dad. India is something!".
Wednesday, September 07, 2011
Second Haircut
Evan got his first haircut in Austin a few months ago. His hair is getting pretty long and so is mine. Yesterday evening I called the Club and made appointments for the both of us for this morning.
Evan went first. He wasn't happy. Then he was extremely unhappy. He cried and howled through the haircut. When it was over I took him for a short walk and he immediately calmed down. When we returned for my haircut he patiently sat on the other seat and watched. I tipped the barber more than the entire bill - the total was still less then $4. At those prices I'll be back often. And Evan will be long-haired.
Evan went first. He wasn't happy. Then he was extremely unhappy. He cried and howled through the haircut. When it was over I took him for a short walk and he immediately calmed down. When we returned for my haircut he patiently sat on the other seat and watched. I tipped the barber more than the entire bill - the total was still less then $4. At those prices I'll be back often. And Evan will be long-haired.
Tuesday, September 06, 2011
Aiiyo
Aiiyo - pronounced "Uh-ee-yo" is a general expression of sympathy in India.
This morning Evan was cranky. Which is our indication that he is ready for his morning nap. But the crankier he is the less likely he is to see things our way. In any case, Jo put him down for his nap at the usual time. He usually screams and yells a few times before falling asleep.
Savitri - our maid - had a problem with that. When she heard the first cry, she came running over to tell us that he was crying. I said yes. He'll soon fall asleep. No big deal. Unhappily she went about her work. Till she heard a second cry a minute later. She made a run for the door to Evan's room. Jo asked her what she thought she was doing but Savitri doesn't speak or understand English. I intervened before Savitri managed to open the door. I again explained that Evan was going to take a nap and that it was okay for him to scream for a minute or two. She huffed and aiiyoed and went back to work, probably convinced that these foreign people don't know anything about raising kids.
This morning Evan was cranky. Which is our indication that he is ready for his morning nap. But the crankier he is the less likely he is to see things our way. In any case, Jo put him down for his nap at the usual time. He usually screams and yells a few times before falling asleep.
Savitri - our maid - had a problem with that. When she heard the first cry, she came running over to tell us that he was crying. I said yes. He'll soon fall asleep. No big deal. Unhappily she went about her work. Till she heard a second cry a minute later. She made a run for the door to Evan's room. Jo asked her what she thought she was doing but Savitri doesn't speak or understand English. I intervened before Savitri managed to open the door. I again explained that Evan was going to take a nap and that it was okay for him to scream for a minute or two. She huffed and aiiyoed and went back to work, probably convinced that these foreign people don't know anything about raising kids.
Monday, September 05, 2011
Back to School
This morning Jo and Evan and I dropped Vivian off at her school. Yep - she's back to school. She's in a pre-school with about 375 kids. Her class has 22 children and two teachers. The place looks fun. Vivian gave us quick hugs and settled in without a backward glance.
ps. here's a picture I took when I went to pick Vivian up.
ps. here's a picture I took when I went to pick Vivian up.
Strangers
Who is this woman and why is she holding our kids?
We were eating lunch at a food court yesterday when Evan wandered over by her table. Soon he was on her lap and the man with her was taking pictures of her and Evan. Vivian soon followed. I asked and took a couple of shots with my iPhone too.
A few weeks ago we were at Via Milano - a nice Italian restaurant. The kids were running around the place and the manager had assured us that it was okay. After a while the kids got quiet and we couldn't see them either. I walked around the corner and found them sitting and eating at a table with a young couple. I nicely asked if they could take the kids home.
We were eating lunch at a food court yesterday when Evan wandered over by her table. Soon he was on her lap and the man with her was taking pictures of her and Evan. Vivian soon followed. I asked and took a couple of shots with my iPhone too.
A few weeks ago we were at Via Milano - a nice Italian restaurant. The kids were running around the place and the manager had assured us that it was okay. After a while the kids got quiet and we couldn't see them either. I walked around the corner and found them sitting and eating at a table with a young couple. I nicely asked if they could take the kids home.
Sunday, September 04, 2011
Ghengis Khan
To say that Evan is a barbarian is a bit of an understatement. He spits out food he doesn't like and then throws the rest to the floor - violently. He pulls Vivian's hair and climbs all over her while she screams "Evan - stop - I can't breathe". He yells and scratches like an animal. He hardly speaks, preferring to communicate in grunts and roars.
Know of a nice boarding school in Ulan Bator?
Know of a nice boarding school in Ulan Bator?
31 Days in Pictures
One month down. Seven (or may be eight) to go. It's going fast. Here's the first month in pictures.
Settling in at home
Outside Austin Airport
Flying zombie
London Cab
Cowboy in London
Hyde Park in summer
At home in Windosr Castle
Tomfoolery at Windsor Castle
First things first: sandwiches at Secunderabad Club
With Partha at Preethi
Going native in lungis (or coffee table cloths)
At SVM Mall with Partha
Mornings at Preethi
Miss McSpicy
My new toy box
The store where I forgot Vivian
Lunch at Sweet Nirvana
At Grace's birthday on FaceTime
Mornings at the park
Mornings at the park in night clothes
Fashion diva
Eid Mubarak
Ganesh Chaturti
Bucket baths
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