Sam gets a hair cut from "Uncle" Amos

"Uncle" Amos (actually Sam's cousin twice removed) has five boys of his own, and early on decided that he could save a LOT of money if he would just give his own boys haircuts.

So he is well experienced with giving haircuts to wiggeling, squirming, opinionated toddlers.

Sam looks great.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas to everyone out there in computer-land.

The Incarnation of the Infinitely Beautiful Son of God was celebrated in our household with a pleasant day indoors, in the company of cousin Amos and his wife Rowena, along with Dirgham their youngest son.

We had a breakfast casserole of eggs/bread/milk/cheese/homemade water buffalo sausage and cinnamon rolls, which was enjoyed with gusto. Then we answered a gazillion phone calls from various well wishers, and proceeded to open presents. The girls were very happy. Dirgham seemed to like his box of Capt'n Crunch.

Then Amos, Rowena, Amy and I sang for about 3 to 4 hours. That was very fun.

GIrls went down for naps, and the rest of us cleaned the house, cleaned ourselves, and started prepping for supper.

Supper was a Water Buffalo pot roast, baked chicken, baked corn, green beans, homemade (and hot out of the oven) rolls with Strawberry Jam and homemade Lemon Curd, Turkey gravy (from a packet, but it was great), chestnut and dried cranberry stuffing, cranberry sauce and homemade dill pickels. Ooooh, was it good. More desserts than you can shake a stick at, not that you would want to.

A good time was had by all.

Amos is my paternal grandfathers brothers son. If you desire more information about my relatives, let me know. His wife is also related to me, I believe.

A notable lack of goats these days

Bukr Eid is over, and we have filled ourselves with many kilos of goat meat, along with a fair amount of Water Buffalo.

Friday was Bukr Eid, when Muslims world wide celebrate the substitution of a Ram for Abraham's son, when God told Abraham to sacrifice his son.

Muslim culture's around the world emphasize different animals, and in our fair city the ever curious Goat is the most popular animal to sacrifice. Water Buffalo are also popular, and there are even a couple of Camels sacrificed locally (the meat tastes sweet, I am told, though I have never had any). No cows are slaughtered here, out of respect for the Hindus.

SOme of the meat of the sacrificed animal is given to the poor, some is given to friends (we have quite a few pounds in our fridge right now), and much of it is eaten in the few days following the sacrifice. So as we made our rounds to visit so many people, we got fed a lot of meat.

And on the streets, which a few days ago seemed to have so many goats clustered around, there are few to be seen.

The Waiters then gave all the Miscreants a Sound Thrashing

I was digging through some old music I had laying around, and I came across a songbook left from our good friends the Freemans. (We won't say how old it is).

Tucked in among the music was this little newspaper clipping, describing a shootout at a local restaurant a few years ago.

What makes the clipping all the more memorable, is that the Freemans were in the restaurant at the time of the shooting, and had bullets hit the wall over the table where they were sitting.

My recollection of the story is thus: the Freemans' food had only just come to their table, and the gunmen were blocking the only exit. So the Freemans, in their emminantly practicle state-of-mind, took their plates underneath their table and proceeded to eat their supper huddled on the floor down there.

After all, what else was their to do?

Jillian, I shall expect comments. :)

Home School in the Study

One room our apartment is designated "the Study", and is more of an all purpose room: laundry/study/spare bed/sewing/extra storage...

And now it is also the Home School room.

Miriam evidently found the days proceedings rather un-engaging, and decided to take a brief nap on the floor.

Beauty is Important to me

I like beauty.
So one of the ways I can start my day with a little more beauty (beyond my lovely wife and three kids with bed-head) is to have a cup for my tea that has beauty integrated into it.

Here are some of my favorite teacups. That would be vanGogh in front, and from the British Museum on the right.

Now if only I would have the same appreciation for spelling.

A Week of Illness, Injustice Imposed on One-Year-Olds, and Cooler Weather

We are doing well overall, but some illness has been circling in the house (well, the city also, but that's usual for this time of year).

Amy had "Delhi Belly" on Monday and into Tuesday, when Lowell also started it, and then Miriam started on Thursday. Everyone is slowing improving, but we are still pretty much only eating toast and oatmeal. Sam and Nora Grace escaped that, but Sam has an amazingly snotty nose (pardon the graphic word there).

Nora Grace virtually never gets sick. She is amazing. She got a bad cold once in her life so far.

Sam is a bit upset with his Mom and Dad at the moment. We have all these brutal and unjust rules in this house, that are grossly unfair to one-year-olds. "Can't play in the toilet bowl," "Can't play with knives," "Can't throw things out the window and watch them fall," "For that matter, he can't crawl out the window either," "No permission to eat either dirt or cow dung," and so on and so on.

We are obviously going way overboard on the rules around this place. He lets us know in no-uncertain-terms that he is unhappy with the current legislation.

Anyways, winter season is here, and outside the overnight lows are down into the 50's. Still in the 80's during the day, but it feels kindof good after a damp and cool morning.

Miriam, now three years old, with a friend on thanksgiving day

Shanti is one of Miriam's closest friends (along with Benjamin, Tarin, Braeden, Gabby, and Priyanka, who respectively hale from most of the worlds known continents). They have conversations together that no one else understands, but they seem to be happy. :)

Who did the bombings?

Well, we may never know for sure. Three guys on bicycles wiht suitcases on the back.

BUt the current most popular rumor with some grain of truth in it is this...

A few weeks ago, a bunch of young muslim guys were arrested, on charges of terrorism. The lawyers at the courthouse refused to represent them (that is their job, to represent people in court), and indeed, beat them up a bit. (Not a good sign when the lawyer assigned to represent you beats you up).

It is extremely likely that most of the young guys arrested are completely innocent, as the local authorities are not renowned for their detective work, have a long history of planting evidence, and have several reasons to be holding grudges against the accused.

But it is also extremely unlikely that the accused will get a fair trial, or even make it to trial, at this point.

So when the bombs went off, and seemed to be targeting Lawyers, and a few hours later an unsigned anonymous letter saying the bombs were because the lawyers were refusing to uphold the law, much speculation centered on the possibility of a local banned group.

Of note, India has had dozens of such bombings in the years we have been here, and their has never been any one who has taken credit for them. They have targeted Hindu Temples, Muslim Mosques, Tourist areas, non-TOurist areas, historical sites, etc. There seems to be no particular pattern.

So we may never know who planted the bombs.

Either way, everyone is on strike today, so it is a bit quiet outside.

We are safe

About 3 hours ago, (1.30PM local time) today, Friday, 23 November 2007, a series of three bombs went off in three cities in eastern Uttar Pradesh, our fair state.

One of the bombs went off at the High Court building, about a mile west of our apartment. Several people died, and more debris is being removed as they look for more wounded, and look for clues.

We are safe. We currently don't know anyone personally who was killed or injured.

We pray.

Lawyers go berserk in city

This headline is actually a little older, but I thought you all might enjoy it. I get newspapers in three languages these days, and it also interesting to see how the story varies between papers.

Sleeping without a fan

Last night, for the first time here since last March, we slept without the fan on.

The overnight low (outside) got down to 58 for the first time in a long time (still up to upper 80's during the day).

We had a sheet to cover up with, but it was almost weird without the fan going like a turboprop over our heads. Hopefully, it will stay off till March again.

Christmas from the perspective of a 12 year old Muslim boy in Varanasi

My tutor's son was asked to write a short paragraph on any topic of his choice for a recent English exam. He wrote on Christmas. Following is the unedited version:


"Christmas is the most important festival of christian on this day houses are dacorated on this day santaclose come and give gifts to the children they exchange gifts and christmas tree dacorated on this day jissus christ born."

My Usual Beggrs are Temporarily Seeking More Verdant Pastures...

Varanasi has plenty of beggars. In the fine tradition of the infameous saying, they tend to congregate "Where the Money Is." So we do not actually have many beggars in our neighborhood (lower to middle class Muslim). But you can find plenty of them at Tourist Sites, Temples and Mosques.

As I get close to my Tutor's house, there is a prominant mosque, where there are usually three or four beggars sitting. It is usually the same group, and I usually hand out a few rupees to each of them once a week. They are my "Regulars". My Tutor thinks I earn extra points with God for doing this. We shall see.

Anyways, the Hindu Holiday "Diwali" is coming up in a couple of days, and the streets and temples of Varanasi are thronging with folks from across India to partake in the Festivities (celebrates the victory of Light over Darkness).

So my usual set of beggars that congregate outside of the mosque I pass every day, are now gone. They have gone down to one of the Hindu Temples, as many devout Hindus will be giving out coinage as they go to and from the Temples.

No worries. They will be back. I am sure I will see them again next week, after Diwali is over.

Family Photo

Took this photo a couple of weeks ago at Eid. Need to get the "red-eye" out.

Not Really Being a Slacker

Well, I haven't written anything on here in quite awhile. I HAVE been busy, nothing too exciting, just the usual life-in-Varanasi stuff.

I will be sleeping on a train Friday night (going to Delhi for a supply run), spend the day Saturday in Delhi getting stuff for Thanksgiving and Christmas, and then returning on the train again Saturday night. I usually sleep well on the train.

Interior of a typical Home in Varanasi

Ok, this photo may not seem like much to look at, but it is typical of a Varanasi home, so I thought I would post it.

Most homes have a central "Ungun" or large empty space that goes from the ground up to the outside. This helps cool the home in the hot season, plus ventalation. Then the various levels are built around the Ungun, with a walk-way/stairs around it, and then independent rooms off of that walkway.

Not sure how well that shows up here, but that is the intent. :)

Sam's First Birthday

Sam had his first birthday on October 13th (yes, I am a bit late in reporting that.

He seemed to enjoy his party, and in good one-year-old fashion, was much more interested in the box and wrapping paper then the actual gift he got.

He got a plastic truck. Seems to like it better than the dolls his sisters thrust upon him.

Train Station

The following is from a beautiful friend of ours, Gloria Carlson, who wrote these reflections on observing folks in a Train Station:


An orthopedist’s worst nightmare. People limp by constantly, one after another, their feet misshapen, dragging. An arm or hand curled up towards the elbow and wrist. A man staggers by on one foot and one bandaged stump.


A social worker’s worst nightmare. So many needy people…beggars constantly in your face. Children begging for food, doing tricks for you, just to gain a rupee or two. Mothers with thin, dirty babies, motioning for you to give something to feed them and their baby. An old, emaciated crippled woman, bones jutting out towards the skin, gray hair dirty, disheveled, matted.


A verminophobiac’s (person who is afraid of germs) worst nightmare. Dirt everywhere. Putrid puddles of liquid are scattered along the ground. Breathing in constant dust and smoke. (It is estimated that everyone in Delhi smokes the equivalent of 20 cigarettes per day just by breathing in the polluted air.) The stale hot air smells of body odor, urine, and something rotten. Trash litters the ground. Men urinate in any convenient location, spitting their red paan juice as they go along. Children play in the dirty water that snakes its way down the platform.


Yet, an anthropologist’s (people-watcher’s) dream come true. So many people, so many different personalities, languages, and cultures. Families lay out on the ground, feeding their children the rice and dal they carefully packed in tin containers, each eating with his hands, or being fed from another’s fingers. The mother trying to keep track of all the youngsters and luggage, while settling a crying baby on her breast, bathing a dirty child, washing his clothes. The men sit nearby, staring at each passerby, chewing and spitting paan, at times engaged in conversation. Old women squat on the ground resting. (The word for “sit” in Hindi literally means “squat.” If you want the person to actually sit, you must add “on the chair.”) A rush of people carry each other up and down the many stairs. A middle-aged man gently leading a frail, aged, blind parent through the crowd. Men in red shirts with cloth wrapped around their heads like turbans carry piles of luggage and crates on top of their heads, the luggage owners trying to keep up with the coolies’ quick hurried steps. The group of young men not to be trusted, mischeviously congregating in the corner. A group of students scattered, sitting and intent on their task: drawing each nearby person with pencil on scratch paper.


A culinary artist’s dream come true. Vendors line the walkways with every sort of food. Theses are carried in baskets, either resting on the vendors’ heads or held above the heads in one hand. People reach out through the window bars to purchase a snack or drink. Others motion a vendor to stop by as he makes his way down the narrow and crowded aisle. All kinds of foods are sold: papaya, grapes, apples, oranges, guavas; also samosas, chana dal, salad, chai, cucumbers sliced in half and filled with masala. The hot foods are served on pieces of newspaper. Each vendor has his own call to announce his individual wares. The chai-walla calls out “chai, chai” in his own tone and pitch of voice, while the chana-walla calls out “hara chana” in a different tone of voice. The boys come through, calling out “thunda pani boatel sealed.” Each item costs but a few rupees, each vendor with little to account for all his hard work.


An extrovert’s dream come true. People everywhere! Of all ages and sizes. Most ready to talk and engage in conversation, even if the other does not listen or even understand the language. Children run around, ready to play with any stranger who will pay attention.


So this is it. My reflections from a six-hour wait at Patna Junction train station.

I've been a Doctor for 15 years and it took me a WHOLE MONTH to figure this out?

I haven't seen much of my Urdu Teacher's wife for a month or so. It was the month of fasting, so people often keep strange hours during that time, so I wasn't really thinking about it. When I asked how the fasting was going, my teacher told me his wife was not fasting. When I asked why, he just replied, "Oh she isn't feeling too well this month."

Hmmmm. Now why would a 30 year old married woman not feel too well for weeks on end?

Before I would often see her, if she would bring chai down, or say "Hi" while coming or going. But I haven't seen her for weeks. When I asked, I was just informed she was getting a little extra rest.

Hmmm, now why would she need a little extra rest?

My delightful wife finally gave me one of those, "Men are from another planet" looks as she informed me, "Well, she is pregnant, obviously."

Oh, yeah. I'm supposed to be the clever one.

Viral Fever

Lots of what the local Physicians refer to as "Viral Fever" going around. (you need to say it with a subcontinent accent for the full effect).

Viral Fever is when a patient has a very high fever (103 or more), and no other symptoms. No cough, no rash, no dierrhea, no nothing. They are just baking.

I typically check for Malaria and Typhoid, but after that, it is just a matter of waiting it out. At least some of it is Dengue, but often that test is negative. Some chikunguya around also.

But what is the cause? Hmmm, maybe some lab somewhere would sponsor a complete workup of these people to try and get a better idea of what it is.

A Clear Case of "A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words".

A friend of mine sent me this.

Priceless.

Do you believe in Djinn?

Last Thursday, I stopped by a friends house for a quick visit, and he informed me his 19 year old nephew was in the hospital and asked me to come and look him over.

No problem. I get a lot of this.

The nephew had fallen from a three story building, hitting a few things on the way down, and gotten pretty banged up. Most of the stuff was not alarming and well taken care of... scrapes and cuts and bruises. (I think I also clinically diagnosed a Basilar Skull Fracture, with Raccoon Eyes, what a call, I got pictures). He also broke his heel bone, which will probably take a couple of months to heal up.

But the main thing was a broken jawbone. The XRay was impressive, with several breaks. The answer seemed obvious to me: he needs his jaw wired shut.

Enter the negotiations. Turns out the accident had happened eight days ago, and the family was refusing to have the operation, because they couldn't afford it. (In India, you pay for your medical care with cash up front, or else the Doctor won't do it. Makes sense, otherwise the Doctor wouldn't get paid). The family of the patient and the Doctor had been negotiating for eight days while the patient survived on sugar water in an IV drip. Well, that's no good.

As I looked over the patient, he just seemed a little odd. He followed commands (not being allowed/able to speak with the broken jawbone), but just was not interacting normally. Mostly he just stared off into space, and didn't look at anyone (including the pretty nurse, now that is odd in a teenage boy).

But the next while was taken up in animated discussion of operations and costs and second opinions and so on. When my friend and I finally left, it was time for me to get on to my next appointment.

I saw my friend next day alone in his office, and mentioned that his nephew seemed a little odd, and did his brain get hurt in the accident? My friend replied, "No, that is the way he is since he was 12 years old, let me tell you a story..." .... ....

But then a customer came in, and he refused to engage me in conversation about his nephew.

When I finally got him alone for a bit of time, he told me that his nephew, when he was 12 years old, was in the country side, and had walked into a field to empty his bladder. He unknowingly voided on Djinn (a Muslim Spirit being, sometimes evil, but sometimes neutral or even good). Therefore the Djinn had cursed him. The curse was thus: once or twice a month, for 2 or 3 days at a time, the boy would stop functioning. He would just sit and stare straight ahead without speaking. He could eat and drink during these times, but otherwise would just sit for hours and stare straight ahead. The boys mother (my friends sister) had a special prayer book from which she would chant a prayer, and then "blow" them (literally) over her son. This usually worked. Various Doctors they had consulted had not helped.

In between the "spells" (for lack of a better word) he seemed normal, finishing high school and now doing computer based cloth designing.

And he asked me: "Do you believe in Djinn?"

I love this job. We talked awhile.

Next day, my friend asked me to see his nephew in his home (they had refused to have the operation, and the patient had been transferred home, complete with a massive round-the-head bandage to supposedly hold his jawbone in place while it healed. And he asked me if I could help with the "spells".

But next day, when I got there, there was a crowd there, and my friend did not want me to talk about that at that time.

I don't think it would have been good to do any excorsision anyways (yes, Lowell cannot spell). Based on what Jesus had to say about the evil spirit who wanders around and then returns to the house to find it empty, and brings seven of his friends along, it would seem that this young man had a pretty empty house, and filling it with righteousness would be a first step, so that when the Djinn eventually gets dispelled, it can't come back in.

So instead, I left them a copy of Psalm 1, and Psalm 42/43 (Hope in God!), and recommended he meditate on this for awhile. I also recommended the patriarch of the family approve of it, before they started reading it. But he just said OK, with only a brief scanning. They were all gathered around reading aloud when I left.

So anyways, that is what I did during lunch today. How about you?

I don't proofread these things before I hit "Publish Post". Maybe I should. I wander if any of this makes any sense.

What do you do with Faithfulness and Fruitlessness?

I was watching JT interview two gentlemen whom I greatly respect last evening, when he asked them this question: "What do you do when you encounter Faithfulness and Fruitlessness? (Or something like that).

I think the intent of the question is thus: What if a person is in ministry (pastorate etc) and there does not appear to be any obvious fruit? What if a godly man, called to preach, preaches Biblical sermons, and the Fellowship he is ministering to melts away?

I don't think either one of the gentlemen understood the question, as they did not appear to acknowledge that it is possible for the two to co-exist. Perhaps seeing such obvious blessing to ones ministry makes it difficult to comprehend that such as this could happen.

They did not mention the fruitfulness of prayer. Or the fruitfulness of obedience. Jeremiah, Hosea, and others were faithful in their calling, but none of them saw "fruit" in what we usually think of as "fruit". They called people to repentence, and no one repented. Yet God seems to make much of the fruitfulness of endurance, the fruitfulness of faithfulness, the fruitfulness of doing what is right even if the stars fall.

A lack of obvious short term "fruit" (would we see this as a Meetinghouse with growing membership roles?) often leads people to question the faithfulness of the pastor. This may be appropriate, and indeed, accountability to faithfulness should be one of the hallmarks of a good pastor.

But too often a lack of short term fruitfulness does not yield a Biblical call for endurence. And a Biblical call for endurance is exactly what is needed in so many cases.

Anyways, I am rambling. What does one do with Faithfulness and "Fruitlessness"?

Perhaps the best answer is to define "Fruit".

To Jillian, on the occasion of the Visit of her Husband and Eldest

Hello to dear Mrs. Freeman, with Laura and Ben, far out in the uncharted backwaters of the remote archipalego of New Zealand

(What am I saying? You are an hour from Aukland in one of the most beautiful spots on earth).

We had the priviledge of having Ross and Jonathan here for supper on Friday evening. We had rice and chapati and then bought some Milai Tikka Chicken from a Tandoor on the street in front of Lal Girja.

We are happy to report that a good time was had by all. Loved the photos, and THANKS FOR THE GIFTS.

Neepa also hosted a tea for Ross on Thursday evening. Again a good time was had by all, although 2 or 3 centimeters of rain fell out of the sky all at once just as the Tea was winding down. Our autorickshaw stalled out in 20 cm of water as we were heading toward Sigra Crossing, and the Autowallah and I ended up pushing the Auto -- well nigh heavy laden it was too -- for about 400 meters till we got to (relatively) higher ground. But the current was with us, and the water was never above my knees.

We have been trying to follow the Rugby World Cup, but are somewhat hindered by the lack of info locally. Be assured that Nora Grace and Miriam are now chanting:

GO ALL BLACKS!!

(We shall also try to get Jonathan to teach them the Hukka (or however you spell that thing you do)) :)

(For the uninitiated, the most civilized sport in the world is Rugby, and one of the best teams is the New Zealand team, whose uniform is entirely black, hence the knickname, "The All Blacks". The All Blacks are fameous for an ancient Maori War Dance and Chant that they perform before each game, which involves much shouting, slapping of the thighs etc and sticking out ones tongue. The current scuttlebutt about the current Rugby World Cup, being played in France, is that it might end up being an Southern Hemisphere Semifinals, with Australia, New Zealand, South Africa and possibly Argentina in an upset going into the final four.)

More Nora Grace photos...

OK, two more photos of Nora Grace on her birthday. One is at breakfast with all her loot (harmonica, kazoo, and TWO CRAFTS!!) and various cards.

The other is at supper with her cupcakes and candles. We had pizza for supper, per her request. Unfortunately, her request for candles in the pizza had to be cancelled, since it turns out that pizza hot from the oven will melt candles.

I think she look like my sister Janalee in the picture with the cupcakes. Especially the eyes. Those danceing, sparkling eyes are what I remember from my sister in her youth.

Nora Grace's sixth birthday

Nora Grace had her sixth birthday last Thursday. We once again managed to not have a formal birthday party, and she once again managed to milk it for all it was worth.

We had various friends visit throughout the week, and she made sure that all knew it was her birthday.

We got her a Kazoo and an Harmonica. What exactly were we thinking when we purchased those?

Below is the girl herself, along with her friend Reuben. Reubens Dad took the two of them out for ice cream.

Milestones

Sam took his first steps yesterday, Thursday September 20.

I guess I need to change the heading at the top of the blog, don't I? Almost a year old now.

...and the eventual descent into Chaos when the cookies appear.

I was invited (again) to a "Fancy Dress Party" at a friends' daughters school.

These are annual affairs for most grade schools, where the dress the children up as various historical, religious, societal etc figures, and then the kids have to get up and tell everyone who they are and why they are important.

At this particular event, Gandhi, tigers, doctors (complete with a "dead" body for him disect), milkmen, gypseys, a Freedom fighter, a couple of queens etc were all represented. A good time was had by all.

Many of the results are somewhat predictable: extremes of shyness and gregariousness, frazzeled teachers, forgotten lines and the eventual descent into chaos when the cookies appear.

On Strike

A local Physician was gunned down outside his house early Thursday morning. While speculation is rife, it sounds most likely that it was a political murder, and not in any way related to his being a Doctor.

But, to protest...(protest what? One is not sure, but why miss a good protest?) local Physicians have gone on strike.

Being a card carrying Plain Menno, we don't do strikes. (Smells of giving ones ultimate allegiance to anyone other than God, and thus idolatrous, or some line of thinking vaguely like that). Besides the fact that it just didn't seem warrented.

So I opted to go to work on Friday morning. On Friday morning, my usual hours are 11 AM to 1PM at a Muslim Charity Hospital. I arrived a bit early and found several hopeful patients, holding on that perhaps someone would show up. I was the only doc in clinic for that time, and stayed quite busy up until 12.30.

At 12.30, no more patients appeared, and I assumed that perhaps they had all gone to Friday Prayers, this being the first Friday of Ramadan, and thus they can earn extra points by Praying at this time.

So I putzed around doing paperwork and answering phone calls until 1PM, when I attempted to leave, and found the reason why the patient flow had dried up at 12.30.

They had chained the front doors of the Hospital closed.

Managed to get myself out, and threw the throngs of worshippers all in white flowing to and from the local mosques, and on to my next stop.

Anyways, just to let you know, I am not currently on strike. :)

I do not know what a Mosh Pit is Sir, but these Agitators are causing a fine stir

Yesterday there was a political agitation. The exact details escape me, and indeed, when you ask people why the agitation happened, they sometimes get sortof glassy eyed, as if they do not fully understand it themselves. I think one particular high Caste Hindu political party is upset about something that is happening somewhere, and wants the government to do something about it.

Or they just want to make a scene, which they succeeded in doing.

Around 9AM, just as rush hour was starting, a whole bunch of Sadhus (Hindu holy guys) moved into the middle of the GT road (one of the busiest in this part of the world), and sat down. Horns blared, people shouted, and traffic came to a standstill.

They said they would sit there until the District Magistrate came and listened to them.

And the traffic jam started. I got into it about a half hour after it started. By the time I realized what was going on, it was too late: I couldn't move. For a few minutes foot traffic was able to get through, and then pedestrians came to a halt also. Every square inch of space within a quarter mile was full of someone or something. What space the cars didn't take up, Auto Rickshaws filled. What they didn't take, the cycle Rickshaws filled. What they didn't take, the Scooters and Motorcycles filled. What they didn't take, the bicycles filled up. What space they didn't take, pedestrians filled up. Until there was no space left. You couldn't even walk.

Nobody could move. Throw a few random cows into the mix and it was a fine situation.

I am constantly amazed that there are not more fights in a situation like that. But everyone remained calm and talkative as the two hours passed before the Agitators finally packed up and left.

At one point, several schoolboys were walking/being passed overhead, walking on roofs and stepping on the backs of other schoolboys, to try and get through. A couple of them wanted to practice their English, and stopped and chatted for a couple of minutes. I said their mode of transportation was like a Mosh Pit, and they replied with the delightful quote on the header.

Eventually the Agitators left, the traffic began to move, and life got back to "normal", as we know it in Varanasi.

The Fridge is back

A trolley pulled slowly into the courtyard yesterday evening, and with the help of a couple of bystanders, was moved up the 57 stairs to our apartment.

And this morning, we had cold juice to drink, and cold milk for our cereal.

What a deal.

No Fridge

Our fridge was slowly fading in its ability to keep things cold. Ice cubes would take a day or two to form, that sort of thing.

So we called the ubiquitious LG guys, who came out and proclaimed that the fridge would have to be taken in to the shop. And on Friday evening they did just that. Estimates of when it will be returned have since lengthened from 24 hours to a week. Promises of a replacement fridge have failed to materialize.

Oh well, life is not so bad. We have UHT milk, which does not need to be refridgerated (until you open it), so we open a box each morning for our cereal, and then the girls have chocolate milk for mid-morning snack with what is left of the liter box.

Sounds like a good excuse to go out to eat! :)

The Place I grew up in is very beautiful.

Ok, this is the last of the photos from this summer that I wanted to post.

I may be stating the obvious, but Big Valley is very beautiful.

photos from this summer that I wanted to post part IV

Miriam with one of the Field twins. Again, I just liked the picture.

photos I wanted to post from this summer part III

I just liked this photo of Nora Grace and Daniel Larson eating hot dogs this summer. They were born a day apart.

The Bear Trap: Leftover photos from this summer that I wanted to post, part II

While up at a blueberry patch on the flats of one of the mountains that flanks Big Valley, the Amishman running the place showed us the Bear Trap placed to safely rid themselves of the nuisance bear that had been raiding the patch.

The girls were very impressed.

And the bait was?????

Powdered donuts, thank you very much.

(It would work for me).

leftover photos from the US travels part one

Here is Sam with one of his namesakes, Uncle Sam Zook and Aunt Helen. They are some of our all time favorite Uncles and Aunts. Appears Sam likes them too.

Miriam and Braedan

The girls are enjoying seeing their friends again. Sam is enjoying being Sam. He can get into lots of trouble with his newfound mobility.

Random Statistic

The local paper reported this week, that our area of India had the highest percentage of people with post-graduate degrees involved in Criminal Activity.

I think the way the checked, was to look at all Police and Court records, and determine if the people involved had Masters Degrees or PhD's.

And we had the highest percentage.

What a deal.

The Phone is Ringing

Well, things are truly starting again.

I had hoped things might be quiet for a couple of weeks until the monsoon moved out and the tourists moved in...but the phone has been ringing.

Gave a lecture yesterday, and had some patients call today. So we will be busy.

On the home front, we got the house looking pretty good and stuff mostly put away. We had lots of offers from people offering to bring us a meal, but we actually declined, getting a few days in as a family together.

Still hot, but daytime temps under 100 F (35 C).

But we were home

The train ran four hours late, and the kids were going a tad bit stir crazy, but we got home.

It was pouring down rain when we got off the train to find a rickshaw to our home, but we got home.

There was no electricity when we got home, but we were home.

Hoorray, we are safely back in our flat in our fair city, and everyone is happy.

Back in India

We are happy to report that our family, along with all our stuff, made it to India without incident.

We will be in New Delhi for four days, before hopping the train to Varanasi.

It is REMARKABLE how two guys on a part bench can solve so many problems.

I like to read Jim Lileks, and that is a recent quote of his.

Having spent more than a few hours on park benches in the past couple of months as we have visited so many people, it makes sense to me. In topics ranging from Child Discipline Methods to George Bush to Indian History to Favorite Hymns (sometimes all of those things in the same sentence), we can cover a lot of territory.

If only the world would listen to a bunch of middle aged guys on park benches.

Thank You

Thank you for all the folks who came to our openhouse. What a blessing to see you.

A good time was had by all. I totally lost track of the kids for a couple of hours, but they emerged bright eyed, un-scarred, and talking a mile a minute. Not clear what they actually ate, but presumably involved a lot of Oreos.

HUGE APOLGIES

Wow.

We have been all over and seen so many people in these past two months. It has been rare to have a simple meal together as a family, as so many of our meals have been spent with family and friends.

And there were still lots of people that we did not see.

I am sorry. Sorry that we couldn't make it to see a lot of you all who mean so much to us. Wisconsin, Tennesee, northern Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, Indiana, etc, all had several families that we wanted to visit with, and were not able to make it.

Let's plan on making up for that in heaven, and spend some extra time together.

Prone to Melancholy

David Brainard (spelling? Ok, there are loads of spelling mistakes here) fameously said that he was "Prone to Melancholy".

Makes sense to me.

As we have had a fantastic time these past two months, seeing so many family and friends, all the goodbyes and hectic schedules make for some feelings of sadness to be leaving them again.

Nora Grace has been saying for a few days now, "It's time to go back to India again, Daddy". She is also a bit overwhelmed, I think.

PS: I do not meet DSM-IV criteria for Major Depressive Episode. I am just a bit down in the dumps about leaving again. This is exacerbated by being tired, jet-lagged from Thailand, and a bit stressed about some last minute plane ticket issues. Emergency counceling is not needed, just a simple prayer will suffice. :)

Open House this Friday

The Amazing Larson family will be hosting an open house for us this Friday evening. Love to see you there.

Andy and Jodie Larson
1700 3rd St. NW
New Brighton, MN
651-636-3303

I am not sure when it would start... 5 or 6PM. Nora Grace will be partying as late as we let her. Who knows, she may even stay up past 9.

What can I say?

Anna Skye, Nora Grace and Lily Rose.

Twisting truth

One of the greatest lies that the evil one has managed to spread across this earth, is to take the message of the Cross, and change its basic meaning. He has taken the message, "I love you enough to die for you", and twisted it into, "I hate you so much I will kill you."

What amazes me is how many people have bought into it.

Miriam on a Horse

Despite the look of apprehension in her eyes, she did NOT want to get off the horse when it was someone elses turn.

Pictured here with Grampa Samson, who (it turns out) is quite good at reading books to little girls. There are few ways to endear yourself to Nora Grace and Miriam then to read to them.

Nora Grace and her Great Grampa Samson

Nora Grace is quite fond of her Great Grampa. It appears th feeling is mutual.

What happens when Plain Mennos and Amish type folks go crashing into Modern American Culture?

Black Bumper Hummers.

Michael Sattler and the Deathly Hallows.

GI Joe Doll (conscientious objector edition).

Quilt-by-Number kit.

Menno Simons Action Figure.

Easy Bake Oven (More with Less edition)

Aromatherapy Fooltwashing kit.

(Thanks to the CMC Conference Crier)

Resolved: to study the Bible

When I was a young man, I spent huge amounts of time studying the Bible, and knew the Bible incredibly well. And I loved this. And I was arrogant about it. Perhaps my arrogance was just the benign arrogance of a young man who can do something well, but it was truly a pride issue.

In recent years, my time in the Bible has been much less. The reasons are the usual ones (kids, work, life etc), which is to say, no excuse at all.

And I miss it.

I have been impressed with those around me who are obviously drinking deep in the Bible. And I long for it. This is what I crave and yearn for.

So I write in this public yet anonymous place that I will delve deep, rummage around and drink richly.

Not sure how I will do that. Changing habits is difficult.

Made it to Thailand

As Amy and I will not have much email contact this week, we may use this as a way of communicating with each other. So, hey, made it to where I am supposed to be without any undue problems. Other than missing the fam, of course.

Lowell off to Thailand

Lowell flies out to Thailand for a conference today, returning August 15th.

Amy's Dad had a heart attack and needs bipass surgery, so Amy is trucking down to Omaha.

Whew, this summer is a whirlwind tour.

Our sincere apologies to those phone calls we are not returning or making.

They are NOT Luddites

Just because one is Amish, does not mean one does not have access to some of the modern technology. I am amazed at the number of cell phones among my relatives, and loads of them have internet accounts (just not at their homes). And the Bishop doesn't seem to mind.

At least I have an excuse for not being on-line as much

I have been spending a lot of time with relatives, and my internet connection is not always available. Oh well. I think I have a good excuse based on the pictures below. (They are not actually my pictures (Thanks Uncle Carl and Aunt Lyd) but at least they do show some of the Frundschaft)

Aunt Lydia, how does one spell "Frunschaft" or whatever that word is for all those Stoltzfi?

Did your book come yet?

No Boring Days

We have all kinds of days in Varanasi. Lots of good days and occasional bad days. But no boring days.

In internship as a new MD, one of our themes was, "Boredom is good" (that meant that no patient was crashing and burning anywhere in the hospital). That makes sense as a Dad, a Doctor, and as someone living in Varanasi. A boring day would be a welcome respite.

In many ways, a good riot in town would be very helpful, because it would mean we would need to stay inside and not have phones or visitors. But we have been pretty peaceful in Varanasi for some time (give or take the occasional bomb or assassination). So I should be careful about wishing too much for a Boring Day in Varanasi, but that could have pretty negative overtones.

No Boring Days in Varanasi.

Nora Grace cried a bit in Church this morning

Nora Grace was sitting beside me in Church this morning, when she got sortof downcast, and curled up into my lap and started crying just a little bit.

"What's the matter?", I asked.

"We have to leave tomorrow," she replied sadly.

And indeed we do. She has had such a delightful time in Big Valley. Up till sundown each night, running uninhibited in the long grass, talking and laughing with new friends ( and a few old ones). And tomorrow we are off traveling again.

I understand.

Where Miriams curls came from??

One of the most common questions I get asked is: Where did Miriams curls come from?

The correct answer is: both sides of the family. And above you will find a picture of my Aunt Zeb (on the right, with her big sister Helen on the left) and also of Miriam, just for comparison.

Zeb's curls caused some problems a few years after this, as the Mennonite Church they were attending required girls to have their hair parted and in braids in order to become a member. As you can see, when she got old enough to become a member, it was difficult for her to get her hair into the required form. Zeb credits my Mom with finally managing to get the curls tamed enough for Church membership.

They don't use Lard anymore

Hartleys Potato Chips have been fameous in Central Pennsylvania for many generations.

For many of those generations they were made by frying them in lard. (Some of the younger lads and lasses might need to look up that word).

Call it progress or whatever overly used word you would like, but they no longer fry them in lard, having switched to the more healthy vegetables oils.

They still taste fabulous, though.

The Three Things I have enjoyed most so far this summer in the US

1. Going to the sink, pouring myself a glass of cool water, and drinking it. (Sortof Lowell's version of a tall cold one).
2. The color green, in all of its hyperactive variety.
3. Watching Nora Grace and Miriam run in the grass. This goes along with all the "normal" summer stuff (at least I used to think it was normal): catching lightning bugs, watching a thunderstorm, feeling dew on bare feet, sitting in the back yard while watching the kids run around as the shadows get longer and longer. It is amazing to watch Nora Grace run flat out, hair streaming out behind her, completely uninhibited. It's like she is a kid for the first time.

Correction on the Ice Cream recipe below

There is only ONE cup of sugar, not two.
And use one container of COOLWHIP, not dreamwhip.

I stand corrected.

Mineapolis Open House on Friday, August 17

Wow, this is really a fast trip to the States.
There are so many people we are not able to see.

Andy and Jodie Larson will be hosting an open house for us on Friday, August 17th, for those in the Twin Cities area.

Andy and Jodie Larson
1700 3rd St. NW
New Brighton, MN
651-636-3303

details pending... :)

There is no actual plain old milk in this recipe

SECRETS REVEALED. WORLD FAMEOUS ICE CREAM RECIPE RELEASED TO THE GENERAL PUBLIC. MOST FATTENING AND DELICIOUS ICE CREAM SCANDALIZES SCIENTIFIC COMMUNITY.

OK, here is the Krepps family ice cream tradition recipe (Krepps is my mothers maiden name. An enduring memory I have from childhood is being at a Krepps family reunion, all of the Uncles sitting around on lawn chairs yelling "crank harder" at all of the gradeschool and teenage male cousins who were all cranking on numerous homemade icecream tubs).

Krepps Homemade Grapenut Ice Cream:

1 Quart half and half.
2 cans of sweetened condensed milk.
2 cans of evaporated milk.
2 cups sugar.
1 cup Post Grapenuts.
1 tsp vanilla.
1 container Dream Whip.

Mix together, place in Ice Cream maker, and make Ice Cream like you usually do.

(Note: I wrote that off the top of my head, I will need to confirm that this is the actual recipe).

Note: Dream Whip is the secret ingredient that keeps this Homemade Icecream from getting rock hard, like most do.

What did you think Jenni?

I love the smell of gunpowder hot July evening

We made it to see the fireworks here in Minneapolis on the Fourth of July, accompanied by Grammar and Grampa. A good time was had by all.

Sam really trembled for a while, but did pretty good. Nora Grace and Miriam wanted to cuddle and be held the whole time, but enjoyed it immensely.

And we made homemade ice cream before that. Wow. Or to say it backwards, "woW".

Omaha Zoo, Nora Grace with cousins Miguel and Gabriel

Omaha Zoo, Nora Grace and cousin Miguel

Omaha Zoo early June Miriam with Warthog

Regarding Burgers on the Grill, Raspberries, Asparagus, and Salmon

Haven't written in a while. Hmmmm.

We are eating well. That would sum up the last month. Since we have arrived, we have been at numerous peoples homes: Omaha, Strawberry Lake, all over the Twin Cities.

And everywhere we go, it seems the food is good. What can I say?

Burgers and brauts on the grill, salmon and shrimp, steak, asparagus, raspberries, corn-on-the-cob, Krispy Kreme donuts, jerky, bacon, out for breakfast (again), Grapenuts, Swiss cheese, cottage cheese with peaches and honey, Mom's homemade applesauce ("Ah, yes, 'AS 06,' that was a good year"), and so on.

Lowell continues his triumphant culinary tour of the US east of the Rockies.

She only jumped out of the boat once

We are currently in Strawberry Lake.

(Well, not literally "in" Strawberry Lake, but in the sense that we are visiting the area.)

Nora Grace went fishing on Saturday with her Grampa and some of his friends. Amy and I stand in amazement that they caught anything with the constant prattle and "Why?" questions.

On the way back in to shore, the boat owner told her, "well, the water is not too deep, why don't you jump in and swim back to shore?"

So she did.

It wasn't too deep, but deep enough to get her clothes soaking wet, which she also enjoyed.

We ate the fish that night at Northern Lights Annual Fish Fry. My, my, that was quite tasty.

Last week we were in Omaha visiting Amy's family, and this week up at my parents house. We hope to spend the next three weeks holding still in the Twin Cities.

Family Photo

Thanks Quinton!!

A News Flash from News of the Weird

One party active in the recent elections in India's Uttar Pradesh state represents the interests of "dead" people. Lal Bihari, 48, works on behalf of an estimated 40,000 living people who have been victims of relatives having declared them legally dead, usually in order to inherit their property, and once the government accepts such a declaration, the legal system in India is too slow, crowded and corrupt to bring that person back to "life." Bihari himself "officially" died in 1976, and despite several schemes (such as kidnapping a cousin in order to be arrested and thus proven to be living), he remained "dead" until his proof of life was accepted in 2004. [Reuters, 5-8-07]

612.333.3098

We will be staying at the above phone number in Minneapolis, except when we are not.

This weekend, we will be in Omaha, Nebraska, and next weekend, in Strawberry Lake, northern Minnesota, visiting the Folks.

Funny, how the collective noun "The Folks" needs no further introduction.

I'll do my best to get some photos posted shortly.

from Omaha

Hello dear readers,

It is Friday evening. Seven days ago, we left Varanasi by train. Monday afternoon, we arrived in Minneapolis, and Thursday, we drove to Omaha to see Amy's family.

Pork ribs by the mounds of pounds were to be had last night at Scott and Shawns house, and ohhhhhh were they good.

Today, we were at the Henry Doorley Zoo, and a good time was had by all.

Sam has a bad cold: watery eyes, sneezing, stuffy and runny nose, and a fine, macular rash. Still smiling, though.

A bit of delay by train

We left Varanasi by train on Friday night, hopeing to reach New Delhi early next morning. About 7 AM the next morning, we slided to a stop on a siding about 40 miles outside of New Delhi. This often happens when a train approaches New Delhi, letting the Express Trains head out fast.

But we didn't start up again. We just sat there. An hour passed and then another. Eventually cell phone calls allowed news to trickle in.

There was rioting in the town ahead of us, and some Gujjars had torn up the tracks.

And so we sat, as the hours went by, the temperature soared, and water ran out.

The girls did remarkably well, and eventually we did move out, arriving in New Delhi some time after 5PM.

Good thing we had planned for delays.

And why were the Gujjars rioting? Well, why indeed!

India has an Affirmative Action kind of program for the Low Caste/Dalit/ and Tribal Peoples. A certain percentage of government jobs, Medical School openings, etc, is reserved for them.

So there is a certain advantage to being classified as a "Backwards" or "Oppressed" group.

Well, the Gujjars are somewhat poor, and somewhat oppressed, but not nearly as much as the Dalits or OutCastes, so the Gujjars do not qualify for the same Reservations of Government Jobs.

They had, several years ago, filed suit to be included as Poor and Oppressed. The Supreme Court finally heard the case, and recently made the decision that -- while the Gujjars are not exactly rich-- nevertheless they were NOT poor and oppressed.

When the Gujjars found out, they started to riot all over Northern India.

And that is why we sat in a Railroad siding for ten hours on Friday.

Off to the US

Well it is Friday as I write, about 4PM, and 115 degrees.

We will get on a train in about three hours, and head to New Delhi, spend a night in New Delhi at the Solo Victoria hotel in GK 1, and then head to the airport on Sunday evening to get on a KLM flight that leaves just after midnight.

We arrive in Minneapolis around noon on Monday, and will head to Omaha later in the week, for the following weekend.

Hopefully, our phone number in Minnesota will be: 612.333.3098.

Things may scarse on here for the next while.

You can propel yourself through water, by using your arms and legs

Here is some news I thought you all could use. The photo is of an ad on the back of a bus, for one of the most prominent schools in town.

You can propel yourself through water, by using your arms and legs.

Sometimes things sortof defy explanation, and I just have to show what I see.

Sam's first two teeth

For the record, here are Sam's first two teeth.

He is a happy boy, the squishiest baby we have had. As Mrs. Sorley says, "It is a fun age, they just sit around and smile at everyone, but can't get into anything yet."

The toothless wonder

Nora Grace sporting her new gap in her teeth. (her lower right). Just for the record book.

Miriam also wants to be in on what is going on

Although Miriam has had no recent additions or subtractions to her dentition, nevertheless, she had a great desire to have her teeth photographed.

Afterall, everyone else was doing it.

A Historic First for India

For the first time in Indian History, there is a State in India that has a freely elected government with a clear majority, that is a Dalit (lowcaste and outcaste) Political party.

In the state elections that recently happened here in Uttar Pradesh, the BSP won a majority, the first time in the history of India.

Note: India has several thousand political parties, so it is very unusual for any party to get more than 20 or 30 percent of the vote. Usually governance happens by getting a coalition of several Political Parties together, often with very opposite goals.

Minneapolis and Mumbai

The Economist recently did a review of cities, well worth your reading.

Two factoids jumped out at me, which your ever loyal and caring correspondent will now share with you.

Fourty percent of the tax revenue of India comes from Mumbai (Bombay). Wow. I think we can safely say the government doesn't get much revenue at all from our fair city.

In a discussion of whether cities should be governed in small portions, or with one big all powerful mayor, they gave the example of the Minneapolis Metropolitan area, which 344 local governments within it. ONce again, Wow.

190

The number of cities in Asia with more than one million people in them.

That doesn't count the scores more of such cities in Africa, Europe and the Americas.

I don't think I could even name half of them.

From The Economist, review of Cities.

I now live in the Majority, although I am now from the Minority

According to The Economist, sometime this month, the percentage of people on this Planet who live in Cities, will officially cross over from 49.99...% to 50.01... %. For the first time in history, more than half of all humans will live in cities.

I grew up in the countryside, and lived there till I was 22, when I went to Minneapolis for Medical School. In three more years, I will have lived half my life in a city.

"Wisely or not," quotes The Economist, "Homo sapiens has become Homo urbanus."

They have written a series of articles, that address a large number of issues.

They dare to address the question that haunts many of us rich folks... namely... Why do many of the people in the Urban Slums of Asia choose to live there when they could easily return to their home villages. Most people who live in the vast teeming slums of Asia, have come there recently, and could easily return to their home villages, and find food, water etc. Yet they stay in the slums for a reason. "Why do people prefer Urban Squalor to Rural Hopelessness? "

In India, many Dalits (low castes and outcastes) move to the cities to escape the harsh biggetry of the countryside, much like the serfs of Europe moved to the cities hundreds of years ago. "Stadtluft macht frei" (The City Air sets you Free), said the Germans of Prussia and The Mark.

In the past, most cities were Spiritual centers, drawing people for Spiritual purposes, in addition to its other draws. In the west (and elsewhere), this draw is loosing its shine as many people embrace secularism, but a new "Religion" has arisen to fill the void...namely Culture. The Culture of the city, and its many cultural events "are taking the place of God."

"No one wants to live in a city that is impossibly congested, suffers constant blackouts and frequent floods, chops down its trees, concretes over its parks, has aweful schools and hospitals, is devoid of any buildings of charm or character, and is governed by corrupt politicians and incompetent civil servants. Yet many people have to."

So it goes...

"So it goes" was a quote from Kurt Vonnegut (OK, I REALLY, REALLY cannot spell).

He died recently.

Does anyone else, when they read The Economist, read the Obituary first?

(You will be happy to know, that when The Economist arrives at our house, Nora Grace quickly grabs it and looks to the back, shouting, "Who died, Daddy, who died?")

Pre-Monsoon Shower Activity

We had a light shower today that cooled things off nicely. Dropped twenty-five degrees in an hour. (Granted, when your starting point is 110, it is still not that cold.)

This will happen on and off, Lord Willing for the next month or so, until the Monsoon arrives. It is called "Pre-Monsoon Shower Activity".

The Monsoon arrives in Varanasi on the 15th of June. I had not previously been aware that a Massive Weather System covering half a Hemisphere would faithfully follow the Gregorian Calendar, but who am I to question common knowledge?

Anyways, two hours after the shower, it is back up to 90 again, so this was just a brief respite. :)

But welcome none-the-less.

Still breathing

When I work at the Charitable Hospital, I try to do only clinic work, primarily because Expectations and Roles are so different between my home country and this fair city.

But it was just a matter of time before something bigger happened.

I was seeing patients in clinic today at noon, when a nurse popped in and said I should come upstairs because there was a baby who was not breathing.

Running up the stairs with her, I found a newborn lying on a metal trolley, blue, floppy with no heartbeat and not breathing. Well, that's no good.

I immediately began CPR, and got a pretty healthy heartbeat after a minute or two, as well as seeing the little boy begin to pink up nicely.

But he just wouldn't breath on his own. By history, he had had his cord wrapped around his neck. I wasn't able to get anyone to tell me exactly when he had been born or how many minutes he had been laying there. (His mother, laying nearby, clearly had just given birth.)

After about 15 minutes, he did begin breathing spontaneously, and a "Junior Doctor" (the local name for the Resident type folks who run some of the Hospitals) got an IV in (Strong Work!). The patients regular Paediatrician came after about half an hour, and I was more than happy to hand over the job to him. The baby was still breathing adequately, and his heartbeat was fine, but clearly wasn't out of the woods yet.

Hmmm, nothing makes me hungrier than running a "Code". Overall, this was a good thing for me to do, because it helped me to see a little better how the System works (Yes, there is a System!). When I know better how the System works, I can better help improve it. Normal Newborn Protocols seems to be one area.

Wanna help?

The Mufti and I meet yet again

We had the annual Nursing School graduation not long ago, and the Mufti of Banaras showed up to bless the event.

The Mufti is the spiritual leader of the Muslims of Varanasi (Banaras is another name for Varanasi), and we have met on a few occasions before.

He is younger than I am, and even more publicity shy, which is kindof funny considering the bulk of his job is to show up at special occasions and give a short speech to bless the occasion.

He is good at that part of his job, not sure how trained he is otherwise... presumably quite well.

Nurses Graduation

So why was the photo above (of the Mufti) rather blurry?
Well because of all of the candles in this photo.
Each of the nursing students and graduating nurses got a candle. The room was small and crowded and poorly ventilated. The candles were wrapped in red celophane which added to the smokeyness.
End result? An hour later the room was like a 1950's Doctors Convention (back then all the Doctors smoked in America, nowadays, they all do in India).

Give me Oil in My Lamp

So the Nurses had their annual graduation for the Nursing School. It was fairly uneventful for the most part: nice things were said about various people (most of whom deserved to have nice things said about them), and speeches were made about how needed these Nurses are (not that the Hospital will hire any of them; they hire their Nurses from the South).

At one point when all the Nurses were lining up to have Nursing Pins pinned on them, some of the other nurses (see picture below) began to sing, in a rich, thick accent belying their lack of native English, "Give Me Oil in My Lamp."

Huh? Where did that come from?

One of two of them are Christian, but I am wondering how the rest got roped into singing the song. Granted, it is not particullarly Christian song, and they modified the verses to make them even more generic ("Give me Service in my Heart, keep me helping, helping, helping..."), but "Huh?'

Mucho Kudos to you...

The last post ended with the phrase, "So it goes".

Big bonus points to the one who can correctly point out why that pop culture phrase is so relavent this week.

"I Didn't Clean My Shoes For a Week!!"

Well, assuming a foreigner visits America, what is the first thing he will tell his family on his return his home, assuming his home is our fair city?

My Urdu tutors youngest brother is a computer guy, works in India for some American outfit. They brought him to Chicago for a month of training. The fellow was the talk of the neighborhood here in Varanasi.

He seemed to enjoy himself, and the biggest thing that got talked about on his return was how clean America is.

In Varanasi, I clean my shoes before I put them on in the morning (it doesn't make sense to clean them in the evening, since they would just get covered in dirt while sitting through the night). By the time I get to work a half hour later, they are grey with dust, and I have a rag tied around my bike just for the purpose of wiping off my shoes one more time.

Well, Northern Illinois was not like that. And the whole family was amazed to hear that he went a whole week without wiping the dust from his shoes.

So it goes.

It helps when most of them are named "Emily"

Nora Grace had a blast last month when I was getting my Continueing Medical Education up to date in Thailand. There were loads of other little girls (and boys) to play with, and oodles of space to run, and plenty of things to do. She didn't watch TV for two weeks and didn't miss it a bit.

On arrival, she did not know (or if she did, she didn't remember) any of the other children. She was greatly assisted in remembering names by the fact that most of the other five year old girls were named Emily.

Three doctors daughters in India

This photo is of three five year old girls, all of them Doctors daughters, and all living in India. Cozette (she goes by "Cozy", isn't that great?) on the left is from midwest, and Abby on the right is from the South.

Do they ever stop talking?

Still figuring things out

I am going to try very hard to respond to comments made on my blog from here on out, and I will attempt to do that in the comment section.

Us old folks (41 tomorrow, thank you very much), need a little extra time to figure out what comes so easily to some.

oh yeah, why we are here

Just a little reminder why we are here.

We have a genuine desire to see the weavers of this fair city improve their situation.

At left is a typical room full of these weavers doing finishing touches on silk saris, which they make.

"Sweatshop" doesnt really apply to the term, since the original term meant that was a place where people sweated, but people didn't elsewhere.

Here, at this time of year, everyone sweats all the time.

Regarding Teeth...

It has been a very eventfull week here, regarding childrens milestones.

Nora Grace has her first loose tooth (front lower right side). She burst into tears when she realized what it was, but is now quite excited. Mealtimes now involve Nora Grace giving Play by Play as to which part of her mouth she is chewing with, since she won't chew with that part.

Sam has popped in tooth number one, and tooth number two, both in the past ten days. They are both bottom middle, and he is more than happy to use them on anything he can lay his hands on.

And Miriam is doing quite well in the potty training department. She takes a nap in the afternoon with only her "big girl panties", and wakes up dry, but still wears a diaper at night. She can use both eastern and western styles.

My signboard

If anyone is interested in seeing me at the Charitible Hospital, you just have to find my signboard.

I am the second name down (sharing a room with an Orthopaedist listed above).

The devanagri script would transliterate roughly as: "Dr. Law-vail STaaz-fuss"

And thanks to the fact that most sign board painters are illiterate, I am now a member of the "AAFD"

(I am actually a member of the AAFP", though of course such detail is tiresome, isn't it?)

Old photo of our fair city

Found this old photo of Varanasi, dated at 1922.

The Riverfront has not changed much since then, though a few hundred feet west of here has changed dramatically.

A hundred years ago, Banaras (another name for Varanasi), was a sleepy little town hugging the banks of the Ganges. It has grown 10 to 20 times in population since this photo was taken.

Amy broke another Water Glass

We were sitting down to supper this evening, and Amy was pouring water from the fridge into everyones glasses. (Well, Amy and I have actual Glass glasses, while the girls have plastic cups).

She picked up her glass for a drink, and stopped and said, "Well, there goes another one."

Her glass had cracked right through the bottom. It was still being held together by her hand, but as she set it down, it fell in half.

Since the heat has come (107 F today, 41 or 42 C), we have broken a couple of glasses by putting water from the refridgerator into "Room Temperature" (i.e., very warm) glasses.

How are you all doing today?

More Comments on McDonalds

Lots of comments on the McDonalds posting?

Marika, it is in the IP Mall (just down from Liberty Shoes); Odyssey Books has moved there, plus a Pizza Corner has just opened, plus a bakery named Biscotti (doesn't actually serve biscotti) and an American Dollar Store will be opening soon (everything is 99 rupees).

The best entertainment at the mall is to watch people try out the escalator. (Think, this is a country where the International Airport in the Capital City has no working escalator). People just don't get it, and are inclined to hurt themselves. Growing up in a place where it was easy to make fun of Amish with their lack of worldly ways, I do recognize the rudeness of watching as people fall all over themselves going up an escalator.

But it is sort of funny.

Now who is in Chicago? Is that the Lindquists? We love you guys!!

(Should it not be the Lindquists, I am nonetheless confident of our great affection for you. We were just trying to figure out who wrote from Chicago) :)

Molly is correct in that the Chickenburger is not particularly more healthy.

And with the Taiwan comments, I am assuming this is Ingrid (aka supermom, superwriter, and of whom we have the best wedding stories to tell).

McDonalds Varanasi serves the McVeggie Burger (Potatoes, Carrots, Peppers, Chilis etc all smashed together with loads of clarified butter and fried), the Aloo Tikka Burger (Mostly potatoe, with lots of fried), and several wraps (The Maharaja Wrap, the Mexican wrap), and so on. I do not actually recall what is being served in the Happy Meals.

And why not? In Thailand, they serve Sweet Corn Ice Cream.

As Miriam is rapidly expanding her vocabulary, one of the first words we recognized from her was, "DONALDS", shouted when we would drive past McDonalds.

Progress, as it were

Well, McDonalds finally opened in the Holy City of Varanasi.

It opened a few months ago, to much fanfare, and has pretty much remained packed since then.

They do not actually serve beef, of course, since cow slaughter is forbidden in our fair city (and state, for that matter). But they do have a nice fish burger, as well as a Chicken burger that is pleasant. And the fries are the same, world over. But no milkshake machine. Bummer.

With the next nearest McDonalds being 500 miles away, and this being a somewhat crowded part of the earth, I think I could guess their local customer base would be around 100 to 150 million people. (In other words, the number of people on earth for whom this is the closest McDonalds).

Maybe it is more than that. Hmmmm.

Quick note to Aunt Lydia and Cousin Donny

And "Hello" to Uncle Carl. Not a week passes but I don't (at some point) recall your grilled chicken.

OK, Lydia and Donald... I actually do read the notes people write in a timely fashion, but I am just now responding to some posted some time ago, about a photo of me on the wheat harvest with wild hair.

Are you sure it wasn't Philip? Granted, neither of us had straight glistening locks, and both of us could have been hung by our hair with no ill effects, but the photo I am recalling is of Philip and Ron. Aren't they doing hand stands or something?

And Yes, Uncle Carl, I recall your chicken with affection.

I thought the girls had energy, until Reuben came along

We have a temporary Home School Co-op, with another family in town. On Tuesdays, Nora Grace goes to their house for the day, and on Thursdays, Reuben comes to our house for the day.

It is my job to do some educating of these bright young minds for the first couple of hours on Thursday. We have studying Music (singing and learning notes), Geography (maps like puzzles, and which way is east etc), Bible (just read it straight, they like it best that way), Theology (God is the Best, God is the Boss, etc), Poetry (still working on that) and then doing some reading to them. (Amy and Reubens Mom do the reading, writing, math part, Reubens Dad does similar things to me on Tuesday mornings).

It is loads of fun.

I bring this up, because I was under the impression that my children were energetic. Well, I guess I was way off.

Reuben, who is five, had a higher vertical jump than I do, and he can jump in one place indefinetely, something I cannot do. Getting the two of them to hold still is like herding cats.

From now on, I shall have to refer to my eldest daughter as "The Mild Mannered Nora Grace".