Melinda and Sarah Get Roped into Babysitting

Just so you all know, my blog website keeps switching the language into Bangla. Today I read it and figured out how to sign in without having to reset anything. Success! It's the small things that count.

Last Thursday, an important meeting was held in my city and everyone had to be there. Volunteers had come in to provide childcare for the event. Wednesday night, the volunteers got sick. So, guess who got a knock on their door at 7 am Thursday morning? ... If you guessed 'Sarah and Melinda', congratulations! You are correct! Sadly, there is no prize. We agreed to come around 10 am, after language class. As a rule, I like kids. But there are a LOT of kids in this city and babysitting from 10 - 2 was not exactly how I had planned to spend my day. There were 6 boys between 5 and 9 years old and one 2 year old girl. (That's not all of the kids, most of the older ones were in school.) Maybe 5 minutes after her mother left, the 2 year old became very aware that she was being babysat. She immediately set out to find her mother. The only problem was that she was going to wrong way. The meeting was held at the American Club and on one side of the campus, a preschool was having its sports day. Seeing other parents, the little girl incorrectly assumed her mother was over there too. I tried to convince her otherwise, but babysitters are not to be trusted and she ran away from me. I actually had to chase her down and carry her screaming away from where she thought her mom was. I'm sure I had absolutely convinced her that she would never see her family again. I imagine everyone within 20 miles was convinced of that fact too. As the poor child was being carried to certain doom, she finally lost control and had an accident.... in my arms... all over me... within the first 5 minutes of my day. I love kids. Upon delivering her to safety, I asked if anyone had extra clothes. The mother, understandably concerned for her daughter, replied that yes, she did have another outfit for her. No, no, I meant for me. Thank God, one of the other ladies had sweat pants and a jacket.

Later, a frog was discovered, dug up, and then rescued by Melinda from the boys who kept smashing it with a plastic sand shovel, because they said "frogs pee poison". Who teaches these kids science? One little boy got hit by a ball in a very sensitive spot, and later that same boy was told by someone that his family had gone home and left him. This, of course, was not true. His dad and sister had left, but his mom was still there. I would have taken him to his mom immediately, but of course Melinda had gone to the restroom and there were still 5 other kids who couldn't be left unattended. The second Melinda came back she took the distraught little boy inside and showed him his mom.

We were told that this meeting would be over at 2. At that time, we started telling the kids, who were repeatedly asking, that their parents would be there any minute. At 2:45, I was ready to escort all of them into the meeting. The children were beginning to doubt us. 

On the bright side, I got to see my uncle and he brought everyone marshmallows. Now the question is, should we eat them immediately or save them to make rice krispies treats later? Decisions.. Decisions...

Holiday Highlights

Happy New Year! And welcome to Sarah’s official Holiday Highlight Blog! We shall begin with Thanksgiving: Melinda and I had class on Thursday, so unfortunately, we missed out on the official celebration. However, one of the cooks at the guest house made us chicken strips, mashed potatoes, crescent rolls, and amazing apple pie. Then our Language Coordinator invited us to her family’s house for a post-Thanksgiving, Thanksgiving. We had traditional foods. No turkey though. It’s not really available, but there was ham and more amazing apple pie. Melinda and I also helped decorate their Christmas tree. Plus we got leftovers, overs so that makes 3 Thanksgivings in one year. J

Christmas season kicked off with “caroling” at the local church. You might think this means that a group of people got together and sang songs like ‘Silent Night’ or ‘O Little Town of Bethlehem’, possibly while walking through their community. You would be completely, totally, and utterly wrong. But don’t worry so was I. What actually happened was a massive Christmas rave, complete with heart pounding drums, a fog machine, and techno lights. The whole church was dancing, including the pastor and his wife. There was a men’s circle and a ladies’ circle, and the two never mixed. At one point, they made Melinda and I join them. I can’t say that I actually “danced” I’m not that coordinated, but the ladies had fun dragging me around the floor.

Then there was the Pre-Christmas party at the girls’ school. The girls played games, did a skit, had a birthday cake, and performed some traditional Bangla dances. They also did two traditional American dances: the Macarena performed to the song Cotton-Eyed Joe, and the Mexican Hat Dance. Epic.

On December 20, we went to a town on the border of India for another Christmas party. To get there we took a night bus. It left at 10:30 pm. and the idea was that we would sleep on the 8 hr. journey there. HA. We took an Air-conditioned bus, because that means better quality. Little did we know, they would leave the A/C on all night in spite of the fact that it was December. The windows were also left open. However, Melinda and I were graciously provided with one blanket for the two of us. It was freezing and I did not sleep at all. If I never do that again it will be too soon.  We got to town at 6 am, slept about four hours, and proceeded to the Christmas party. It was a huge meal, with some speakers. But, we did meet some of the ladies who will come to our classes later, so that was exciting. Afterward, we drove to India to meet some friends.

On Christmas Eve, we had dinner with our friends the Smith’s. Then Christmas Day, everyone went to George’s apartment. George is Melinda and I’s supervisor. He bought stockings and presents for everyone on his team, and the other guests as well. I got several movies, and a t shirt.  George also made a big meal, basically Thanksgiving all over again, this time including turkey. And we read the Christmas story.

On New Year’s Eve, we went back to Smith’s for pizza, dessert, and games. Their apartment complex was hosting a huge party. They hired some bands, a dance troop, and constructed a stage, and a dance floor in the courtyard. All afternoon and night, there was really loud music, and lots of colorful lights. The Smith’s two year old son thought it was a giant birthday party.  After the party got started, four of us decided to go down and try to join it. It was supposed to cost 650 rupees, but none of us wanted to pay $15 to get in. So, we decided to just walk in and see what happened. At first, we were stopped and told to stand by the gate. Then, after a few minutes, the guard told us to go enjoy ourselves. There are some perks to being the local oddities. We definitely danced to Bon Jovi’s ‘It’s My Life’ and ‘The Summer of 69. We left after a while, but then came back for the countdown. The second time, someone actually moved people out of the way so that we could have better access to the dance floor. I guess we were just that good. :P The first song we danced to in 2011 was ‘Jail House Rock’. Followed by ‘Footloose’, something Michael Jackson wrote, Justin Beiber, and ‘Low’ by Flo Rida, and songs from Bollywood. There were also fireworks.  Who would’ve thought that my first New Year’s Eve dance party would happen in India? Life is so weird.

Melinda and Sarah Experience a Home Stay

This is the second of two blogs about our 5 days spent living with a national family. You should go read the first one.

WARNING: THIS BLOG CONTAINS A LONG STORY ABOUT POOP. Yup, that's right, poop. I'm sorry, but I live in South Asia, where we discuss our bodily functions as if we were discussing the weather. This was bound to happen eventually. You have been warned.

But first some other things. The Barois have a nice house just a short distance from the town center of Shavar. It was quiet and peaceful, and we had our own rooms for the first time in almost 2 months. In addition to the wedding, we went to church with them, participated in their family devotions, met some of their friends, watched soap operas in Bangla, as well as the weddings of their two oldest sons on DVD, and enjoyed pleasant strolls through the village. On one such walk, we overheard the following conversation between two little boys, who had probably never seen a westerner in their lives:

Boy 1 (in Bangla): What is that?
Boy 2 (gasps): Bideshi! (Foreigner!)

We also shared every meal with them. Mr. and Mrs. Baroi kept insisting that we eat more and more and nothing we did or said could convince them that was absolutely impossible. As a result, we probably each consumed enough rice for two people at every meal. Melinda finally asked Mr. Baroi how to say that we were full, but unfortunately, not before we clogged the toilet.

The house was a new construction, only 4 or 5 months old, and we don't think the toilets were installed correctly, because they were having water pressures issues from the beginning. We hoped that maybe if we just kept flushing, the poop would go down, but eventually we realized it was not going to happen. Then we set out to inquire if there was a plunger in the house. Mr. Baroi speaks good English, but he had never heard of a plunger. He thought it was a part of the toilet itself. Melinda drew a picture, a picture of a plunger. It was epic. It didn't help at all. When Melinda tried to explain that the toilet wasn't broken, it just wouldn't flush, Mrs. Baroi thought we just didn't know how to flush it. She offered to demonstrate. I called our language coordinator, who had set up the home-stay to see if she could help. She didn't answer the phone, so I had to call her husband, at 10 o'clock at night, and explain the situation. He says it's one of the best questions he's ever been asked. Great. Finally, we had to just show our "parents" the toilet, at which point they called a plumber, who was supposed to come the next morning. Mrs. Baroi poured water down the toilet until all the poop was gone, and I guess it worked as good as had before. They showed us another bathroom we could use until the plumber came. (It didn't work all that well either.) All this occurred on the same night as the wedding, after the sari wearing experience, and at the end of it all we all laughed harder than I have ever laughed before for probably 45 minutes. That's one way to bond.

The next day, Mrs. Baroi asked us if the toilet was fixed. Since the plumber had never come, we had been using another toilet, and so, Melinda told her we didn't know. Surprised pause. Mrs. Baroi cracked up laughing. Suddenly, I realized Mrs. Baroi assumed we hadn't used the restroom for a day and a half. (or maybe we'd gone somewhere else?) Melinda ran off to get Mr. Baroi to explain the situation once again, which was followed by more hysterical laughter.

Anyway, we had a great time, and I think the Barois enjoyed it too. We really would love to visit again some weekend.  Here are some of the best quotes from the week:

Mr. Baroi: You cannot get the taste of the rice without eating with your hand.

Melinda (discussing the fact that was no hot water in the house): You like cold showers more than I do.
Me: Not when it's cold outside, and by that I mean... warm.

Melinda: If I can pee [while wearing] a sari, is there anything I cannot do?
Me (later that night): Apparently, the answer is: flush a toilet.

Mrs Baroi: (admiring Melinda's bright clothes): ... holud paki, holud paki.
Melinda (not understanding): Oh ok..
Me: She says you look like a yellow bird.
Melinda: Oh good, yesterday she said I looked like a red flower... unless she said fruit.
Me: Flowers and birds are nice.

And finally, Melinda's summary of our home-stay:

We eat every meal with them, with our hands, we watch Bangla tv, we drink tea until it comes out of our ears, and we pray for water.

Melinda and Sarah Celebrate Eid and a Wedding

Melinda and I are thinking of starting a series of Children's books. (Not seriously) We would call them the The Adventures of Melinda and Sarah. This one would be about parties.

 This past Wednesday was Korbani Eid. This is Muslim holiday during which a cow, or goat if you have limited funds is sacrificed to atone for sins. We were invited to the home a Muslim friend for dinner. After you sacrifice, you have to do something with all that beef. Melinda and I did not attend the actual sacrifice, but we did witness the butchering of many many animals. I think I've now seen every organ and bone in a cow. We had a pretty good time. Our host was a multi-millionaire in dollars, and the family had a 6 story home with hand carved wood for the stair rail and on a wall, and wardrobes. There was a pool in the basement and a park for the daughter, as well as deer, and one cow that survived Eid. Azam, the father, sacrificed 5 cows and some goats. His wife did Mehindi on Melinda and I's hands, and we had a good time talking to her and her daughter. We had lunch and dinner with the family, and we watched as Azam and his house helpers passed out meat to the poor. You're supposed to keep 1/3 of the meat yourself, give 1/3 to family and friends, and give 1/3 to the poor.

The following day, we went to the village of Shavar to spend 5 days with a national family. Shavar is about 30 minutes outside of our city. We stayed with an older couple whose 3 sons have all left home. It was great. When we arrived, we discovered that our 'parents' had been invited to a wedding. Melinda managed to politely invite us as as well. Mr. and Mrs. Baroi were excited we wanted to come, but there was a dilemma. We had not brought any clothes suitable for a wedding. It was decided that we could borrow saris from Mrs. Baroi. The actual sari is just a super long piece of fabric that you wrap around yourself multiple times. It is the very definition of "one size fits all". The shirt that goes with it, however is more fitted. There followed several awkward moments of pinching and poking while Mrs. Baroi determined that there was no way her shirts would ever fit either of us. She is a tiny lady. Finally, she said we could wear chamises that we had brought and just tuck them into our petticoats. (The skirt that goes under the sari, into which the folds of fabric are tucked) On the day of the wedding, we donned our petticoats and shirts and then stood there while we were wrapped into 5 1/2 yards of fabric. (I'm not kidding.) Wearing a sari is terrifying. Nearly all that fabric is held up because it's been tucked into a petticoat that you tie around your waist as tightly as humanly possible. I spent the whole night worrying that it might somehow become untucked and fall to the floor. We were also given jewelry, the red dots women wear on their foreheads, and in my case, nice shoes to wear. Before we could get to the wedding, we had to get to a taxi. Since the house was in the village, we had to take a rickshaw to the main road. Getting into rickshaws in difficult while wearing pants... It was particularly interesting because Melinda wasn't sure if it was appropriate to let her ankles show. Mrs. Baroi solved that problem by hiking up Melinda's skirts (a little) and pushing her into the seat. I climbed in and we were off... slowly riding through town while everyone gaped at us. These people had seen even fewer foreigners then people who live in the city. As I was getting out of the rickshaw on the main road, one of the straps of my shoe broke. (It was not a new shoe) So, we were escorted to the taxi and (once again) shoved inside. Mrs. Baroi took my shoes and set off in search of someone to repair them. She returned 10 minutes (Or was it hours?) later and we were on our way. The wedding started at 4 and by this time it was 4:05. We were still 45 minutes away. Don't worry though, we arrived right before the ceremony started.

Side note: In the course of the evening, Melinda and I successfully used a squatty potty while wearing saris. I'm sure you don't want the details, so I won't provide them, but just imagine, if you can, trying to use the restroom while wearing 16 ft of slippery fabric, which might unravel at any moment. We felt accomplished. STILL feel accomplished.

After the ceremony, we proceeded to the reception. Melinda found a space where we could all sit together and dinner was served. There I was eating chicken and goat in orange sauce, and rice, with my hand, all in someone else's fancy sari. Everything was going well until Melinda asked for more water. Her glass was refilled, she set it on the table, and 2 seconds later it fell over, soaking me. It wasn't Melinda's fault. As it turns out, there a chunk missing from the table, conveniently hidden by table cloth until Melinda put her glass there.

We finished dinner and returned home. Thankfully, the taxi took us almost all the way to our house, so we didn't have to experience a rickshaw in the dark. Immediately upon arriving home, Melinda and I changed into more comfortable clothes and our "mom" enjoyed a good laugh over all of our escapades.

Someone Please Tell Me I'm on Candid Camera...

Today has been a day with one too many adventures. Melinda wasn't feeling well this morning so we got off to a late start. It took forever to find a taxi and we were finally on our way to school by by 7:40 as opposed to 7:15. The taxi got maybe 100 ft down the road stopped. It clearly have technical difficulties. ... (As you can see, though I'm nowhere near fluent in Bangla, I'm already forgetting English. Awesome.) Anyway, the driver got out and opened a hatch in the back, removed the accelerator wire and proceeded to string it through the taxi and tie it off up front. All the way across town, he had one hand on the steering wheel and one hand pulling the wire. Yup, we were literally pulled to school today. I'm super impressed the taxi made it up the overpass. It was very exciting and I learned that baby taxis are apparently indestructible, so that's encouraging.

After class, Melinda had a doctor's appointment at the International Centre for Diarrhoeal Disease Research. It has at least two clinics in the city, one of which ironically enough is housed at the American International School. AIS is by far the biggest, fanciest school I've ever set foot in. It was impressive and so very western I went through a minor bout of reverse culture shock in the middle of South Asia. All I know is, for the amount of money that must be spent on the building alone, those children better emerge with full scholarships to Stanford. After the appointment, we went to the tailor to pick up some pants we had made. I love tailors. I'm entirely too short for pre-made clothes and having them made only costs a couple extra dollars. I will definitely miss this when I come home. By then it was 12:15 and we decided to take a bicycle rickshaw for a short ride to lunch... or so we thought.

When you ride in a bicycle rickshaw you end up high up on cushion with a man on a bike pulling you slowly through town. Kind of like you're on a chariot or really old parade float. It makes you very conspicuous and I'm kind of tempted to do the pageant queen wave as I go by. This is why you only take them short distances. Today, Melinda and I passed another rickshaw with several guys in it. They asked if they could ride with us, even though clearly, there was no room on either seat. I thought "so... you want us to what? Sit on your laps? No thanks."  Anyway, we were on our way from an area of town called Gulshan 1 to an area called Bonani. It should have taken maybe 10 minutes. Instead, our rickshaw puller decided to take us on the scenic tour of Gulshan. I'm pretty sure we covered every square inch of that district. Some parts twice. Finally, Melinda just started chanting the name Bonani and when we got somewhere we vaguely recognized we got off. It was an adventure! Remember how we set out at 12:15? We finally sat down to eat at 2.

I almost forgot to tell you the most exciting part of my day! Before that epic ride, we took a rickshaw from the doctor to the tailor. We had agreed to pay 50 taka, but it took longer then expected so the guy wanted 10 taka more. Not really a big deal, but sadly I failed to understand what he wanted. Melinda had already walked off toward the tailor. So, I gave the man 50 taka. He said something which I missed. The he handed me forty taka. That was really confusing because I was pretty sure he had not changed his mind and decided to accept a much lower price. He kept yelling the word "bangti" at me, which means "change". And all I could think was "I know you gave me change but what for?" Finally, Melinda realized I was not behind her, so she returned and asked "What's going on? What's going on?" I yelled, "I don't know! I wish I could explain what's happening, but I have no idea!" In the end, the rickshaw puller reached in my wallet and grabbed another 50 taka. Then it dawned on me, he wanted to make change with us. I probably should have figured this out before, but oh well, life goes on.  

Curse you, stupid plastic wrap!

Oh my gosh, it's been awhile. Since I last blogged, I have left Delhi and relocated to the city that my language school is in. I am now a student at HEED Language Center and I like it a lot. Class is from 8am-10am Sunday-Thursday. The teacher is super friendly and so enthusiastic it's hard not to be happy around him. That's a plus, since I have to wake up at 6:15 and I am decidedly NOT a morning person. Also, it takes about an hour to get to school in a baby taxi because the traffic is horrible. Add in the pollution, the blaring car horns, and the death defying maneuvers of the drivers, and I could see myself arriving in a less than pleasant mood. Probably, the scariest thing I've done so far is cross the road. Many of you may be breathing a sigh of relief, but that's only because you've never experienced traffic here. My roommate and I actually had a discussion about how drivers know which traffic lights to obey and which can be ignored. One the bright side, I've only been within inches of being crushed by a bus once. :) But then, I've only been here 3 weeks...

Let's see, what other exciting things have happened. Although, we live in a guesthouse with an excellent cook and laundry services, my roommate and I are trying hard to save money. So, we buy our own food and we wash our clothes by hand in the bathtub. I miss living at home. If at all possible, you should avoid hand-washing jeans and towels. Trust me on this. I know.

We've experienced bed bugs. That was great.
The internet service provider decided they'd rather provide service to a different part of the city.
And my computer crashed.

But don't worry. The bugs are gone for now. We have internet for now. AND most importantly, a friend of mine who lives here is currently in Oklahoma, so my parents picked out a new computer and it should be here in week or two! Hooray.

The people we've met here have been really friendly and helpful. I'm excited to be able to speak the language better and get to know more people. Recently, we started volunteering at a kind of community center for young girls who live in the slums. It’s a place where girls can come to get help with their homework, a meal, and just have a place to play and relax. They are so sweet, and they’re excited to help us learn too. After I helped one girl with her English homework, she read her Bangla lesson to me and made me repeat after her. I honestly, can’t tell you what I said or if I said it correctly, but my little teacher was very pleased.
People have absolutely no idea how old we are. Sunday night after church, we went to ask the pastor’s wife if it would be possible to practice with the praise team. The members are all young adults and we think it would be a good way to meet people. Unfortunately, our Bangla and her English were not good enough to get the point across. Instead, this wonderful woman thought we wanted to practice music with her. So, she taught to sing a children’s song and then to say “I love you.” At this point we began to try to disengage, but it was no use. We were stuck. During the course of the encounter, she stroked my hair, like I was a little child. Then she proceeded to say that I was her daughter and my roommate was her sister. Apparently, I look like I’m 12 and Melinda looks like she’s 30. (Which is definitely not true) Finally, she escorted us to the gate of the guesthouse and just before we made our escape… She tickled my chin. Yup it was great.
 Melinda and I have kept an excellent sense of humor about us and have even started a quote book, which is the best pick-me-up ever.

This quote came from the guesthouse manager's five year old son: [Sarah] you're funny. Not the jokes you tell the things you do.
Also, in case you're interested, you can get a phone plan with "unlimited STDs". Still haven't figured out what that means...

Haridwar and the Commonwealth Games

I know you've all been glued to your computers waiting for my next post. So, here it is, a mere day and a half after the last one. (You should all try visualizing someone whose face is literally glued to their computer screen... It made me laugh... Twice.)

Anyway, last Saturday we went to the city of Haridwar, which is on the Ganges River and has an important Hindu temple, along with a huge Shiva statue. Shiva is said to be the destroyer god, but he also brings about rebirth, and the Ganges is supposed to flow down his hair. (River... rebirth... and all that). The Ganges was not as nasty as I expected it to be, but I'm told it gets worse at more important holy sites like Varanasi. We saw people swimming, drinking the water, washing their clothes, and there were idols in it too, among other things. There was no sign of the alleged red skin eating sludge though. In any case, I opted not to get in the water. The temple was high up in the mountains, and we took a gondola up there. It was like getting in a Ferris Wheel at Frontier City. We wandered around, looked at all the gods, and then made our way back out. Before you can leave, you have to walk by all the vendors that sell everything from tiny idols, to jewelry with scriptures on it, to Hannah Montana toys. Not to mention "Famous American Corn". The lines to the exit are long and narrow. They have to be narrow otherwise there would be no such thing as a "line," it would be a huge number of people all crowding their way on to gondolas. At one point, we saw the "emergency exit". It was a door that opened off the side of a cliff. I guess the idea is to gauge the emergency and decide if there's a chance you might survive, or if you should just leap off and die faster. Mercifully, we did not have to make such a decision.

Yesterday, we went to the Commonwealth Games. It's kind of like the Olympics for former members of the British Commonwealth. There was a choice between Badminton and Squash. I chose Badminton because I could not imagine anyone taking that game seriously. So, my friend and I set out. We walked quite some distance before we found a baby taxi to take us the rest of the way. Or so we thought... Our driver took us exactly 3 blocks, before arriving the athletes entrance to the game. Obviously, this was not where we wanted to be and we tried everything to convince our driver of that fact, but he would not believe us. He even brought over others to confirm his wrong opinion. Finally, out of options, we got out and continued on foot. What should have been a 5 minute ride, took us an hour and twenty minutes to walk. Then we went though security. The policewoman patted me down and then for some unknown reason took my hand and put it behind my back. Just one hand. She proceeded to move my hand from place to place on my back and twist me around, all the while speaking to me in Hindi, clearly expecting me to do what she said. It was really frustrating. My thought process went something like this:

Do you see me? White skin, blond hair, REALLY confused expression? Obviously, I don't understand and I have nothing remotely dangerous with me.

Finally, she let go of my hand. I don't know if we were done or not. I was still confused, so I just left. Eventually, we made it to venue and since we had just walked forever we brought drinks. After entering the stadium and walking up to our seats, we were told there was no food or drinks allowed and had to go back out. After chugging our drinks, we re-entered the stadium, and finally got to watch some Badminton. All I can say is, I'm sure it's much harder than it looks. We watched India beat Malaysia and England beat Canada in the quarter finals. The audience was really into the India game. It was actually fun. Afterward, exhausted, we took the first baby taxi we saw, and paid him way too much. We were just grateful we made it all the way home in a vehicle. Bring on the unique experiences!