Today I got stuck in traffic on my way to pick Vivian up from school. By the time I got there she was the last one in class. She and her two teachers.
Me: "Hello Vivian, hope you had a good day at school."
Vivian: "Hi dad. I had a good day."
Shwana Teacher: "Good day, Vivian?"
V: "I got into a bit of trouble, dad."
S: "Bit of trouble, Vivian?"
V: "OK - I was in some trouble, dad."
S: "You want to tell your dad why you didn't get a smiley face?"
V: "I didn't get a smiley face today, dad."
M: "What happened?" (looking around for blood or the body by this point)
S: "She danced all day. We even had her sit in front by the board. She still danced."
M: "Vivian, you danced?" (not being able to fully hide my smile)
V: "Yes, dad."
S: "She was in a special mood. Could not stop dancing."
M: "Vivian - why couldn't you stop dancing?"
V: "I think it was the caffeine, dad."
I burst out laughing, hastily apologized and grabbed Vivian and left. Jo and I don't drink caffeine and it's hardly ever mentioned around the house. Where does she learn these things?
As I turned the corner of the stairs I briefly looked up and saw two slack-jawed teachers staring after us and shaking their heads.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Tuesday, January 03, 2012
Deport Me
Last week, by the time we landed in Hyderabad it was late. The kids finally fell asleep during the last few minutes of the Bangkok-Hyderabad flight. When we landed, we carried the snoozing kids out of the aircraft and asked for our gate-checked stroller.
This is always an adventure at Hyderabad airport. People act like they have never heard of strollers or gate-check before. Last time they told us that the strollers were "just there". "Where?" I asked - "On the jetway, inside the terminal, at baggage?" They only repeated "just there". Till a fellow showed up with a red stroller and asked if that was ours. I politely said no. Then he got someone's attention down below on the apron beside the aircraft and mimed out "baby" and "stroller" (by rocking an imaginary baby in his arms and then pushing a stroller around). I waited wondering if I should get his contact information in case we pull together a game of charades. Then he reappeared with the red stroller and asked if I was sure that it wasn't ours. A good bit later our stroller showed up.
This time everyone we asked told us that the stroller would be sent down to baggage. Gate-check be damned. So we took the long walk through the terminal to immigration with two snoozing kids but without the stroller. Before letting us join the immigration line we had to show our boarding passes to an official. We had four sets of passports and four sets of PIO cards and four sets of disembarkation forms filled out and ready but the boarding passes were buried in our hand luggage somewhere. By now Vivian felt like she weighed a ton. Then we waited in line at immigration. There was a "Ladies with children" section that was empty but I didn't want to walk down to the end and be sent back by a flunky. Finally we went up to an available counter. And found the slowest immigration clerk ever. He stared at each of the 12 documents in turn as if it were a piece of alien paraphernalia. Each time, amazement, surprise, and eventually due to the passage of time, more wrinkles appeared on his face. My arms were burning and I had semi-propped a still sleeping Vivian up on a slippery handrail at the immigration counter. We finally finished, thanked him, and walked four steps away to only reached another official who must have the most redundant job at the airport. He re-checked our documents, making the previous guy look like Einstein on speed.
That's when I heard Jo mutter under her breath "Oh, please deport me".
This is always an adventure at Hyderabad airport. People act like they have never heard of strollers or gate-check before. Last time they told us that the strollers were "just there". "Where?" I asked - "On the jetway, inside the terminal, at baggage?" They only repeated "just there". Till a fellow showed up with a red stroller and asked if that was ours. I politely said no. Then he got someone's attention down below on the apron beside the aircraft and mimed out "baby" and "stroller" (by rocking an imaginary baby in his arms and then pushing a stroller around). I waited wondering if I should get his contact information in case we pull together a game of charades. Then he reappeared with the red stroller and asked if I was sure that it wasn't ours. A good bit later our stroller showed up.
This time everyone we asked told us that the stroller would be sent down to baggage. Gate-check be damned. So we took the long walk through the terminal to immigration with two snoozing kids but without the stroller. Before letting us join the immigration line we had to show our boarding passes to an official. We had four sets of passports and four sets of PIO cards and four sets of disembarkation forms filled out and ready but the boarding passes were buried in our hand luggage somewhere. By now Vivian felt like she weighed a ton. Then we waited in line at immigration. There was a "Ladies with children" section that was empty but I didn't want to walk down to the end and be sent back by a flunky. Finally we went up to an available counter. And found the slowest immigration clerk ever. He stared at each of the 12 documents in turn as if it were a piece of alien paraphernalia. Each time, amazement, surprise, and eventually due to the passage of time, more wrinkles appeared on his face. My arms were burning and I had semi-propped a still sleeping Vivian up on a slippery handrail at the immigration counter. We finally finished, thanked him, and walked four steps away to only reached another official who must have the most redundant job at the airport. He re-checked our documents, making the previous guy look like Einstein on speed.
That's when I heard Jo mutter under her breath "Oh, please deport me".
Pests
There's no way to put this delicately. Vivian has a rampant infestation of head lice.
On the way back from HK I noticed Vivian was scratching her head. Next morning Jo checked and found some tiny black insects crawling around. I got on the phone and asked Dr Sahu. He calmy informed me that it was head lice. We spent many hours researching CDC and many Indian websites. Medicated shampoo was bought and used. Sahiti oiled and combed Vivian's hair with a fine tooth comb and showed us how to do it. Bedsheets were washed in scalding hot water.
Swtiching gears, again rather indelicately, we have a pigeon poop problem. Pigeons have made a nest in the service balcony above where the clothes line is. They poop on the drying laundry. Jo goes out on the balcony and periodically rattles a broom around and attempts to rouse the fearless pigeons. Rats with feathers I tell her.
Which brings us to rodents. Jo opened the pantry the other day and shrieked. So loudly that it made Evan bawl in the living room. Appears that our pet mouse jumped on her in it's attempt to get out of the pantry.
ps. I forgot to mention our collection of friendly house geckos. They lurk behind curtains and picture frames during the day.
On the way back from HK I noticed Vivian was scratching her head. Next morning Jo checked and found some tiny black insects crawling around. I got on the phone and asked Dr Sahu. He calmy informed me that it was head lice. We spent many hours researching CDC and many Indian websites. Medicated shampoo was bought and used. Sahiti oiled and combed Vivian's hair with a fine tooth comb and showed us how to do it. Bedsheets were washed in scalding hot water.
Swtiching gears, again rather indelicately, we have a pigeon poop problem. Pigeons have made a nest in the service balcony above where the clothes line is. They poop on the drying laundry. Jo goes out on the balcony and periodically rattles a broom around and attempts to rouse the fearless pigeons. Rats with feathers I tell her.
Which brings us to rodents. Jo opened the pantry the other day and shrieked. So loudly that it made Evan bawl in the living room. Appears that our pet mouse jumped on her in it's attempt to get out of the pantry.
ps. I forgot to mention our collection of friendly house geckos. They lurk behind curtains and picture frames during the day.
Hangover
The last few days involved lots of late nights - flights in the middle of the night, Lan Kwai Fong, missed ferries, Secunderabad Club, Sin. By Jan 2, Jo and I were a bit ragged. We were driving somewhere and Jo said she was tired and slightly hung over. Vivian piped up from the back seat: "Mommy, is that because you had too much alcohol?"
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)