Why I Like Lord of the Rings, Part Three

This is a bit of an obscure reason, but it is a dear reason to me nonetheless. I like LOTR because Tolkien uses few Latin based words, and makes a healthy and happy use of Anglo-Saxon based words.

The English language has two primary sources: Anglo Saxon (Germanic) from the settlers of the post-Roman times. And Latin based, I think mostly from the French of William the Conqueror in 1066 (or “William the B**" as he was more commonly called in his day).

Anglo Saxon tend to be simple, one-syllable words with clear visual images, while Latin based words just get longer and longer, and are often less precise.

A classic example of the difference between Latin based and Anglo Saxon based, is from an Essay by George Orwell, who quotes Ecclesiastes, and then “translates” it into modern Latin based vocabulary.

To quote Orwell:
“I am going to translate a passage of good English into modern English of the worst sort. Here is a well-known verse from Ecclesiastes:
“I returned and saw under the sun, that the race is not to the swift, nor the battle to the strong, neither yet bread to the wise, nor yet riches to men of understanding, nor yet favour to men of skill; but time and chance happeneth to them all.”

Here it is in modern English:

“Objective considerations of contemporary phenomena compel the conclusion that success or failure in competitive activities exhibits no tendency to be commensurate with innate capacity, but that a considerable element of the unpredictable must invariably be taken into account.”

This is a parody, but not a very gross one…

End first quote. Orwell goes on to say:

“Now analyze these two sentences a little more closely. The first contains forty-nine words but only sixty syllables, and all its words are those of everyday life. The second contains thirty-eight words of ninety syllables: eighteen of those words are from Latin roots, and one from Greek. The first sentence contains six vivid images, and only one phrase (‘time and chance’) that could be called vague. The second contains not a single fresh, arresting phrase, and in spite of its ninety syllables it gives only a shortened version of the meaning contained in the first. Yet without a doubt it is the second kind of sentence that is gaining ground in modern English.”

End second quote.

So one of the reasons I like Tolkien is because he uses lots of good, clear, precise words such as:

bog fen dell moor heath glade hearth grange gorge glimmer rustle stride glisten strength churn helm toddle babble giggle dawdle wrath linger prattle

These are words that stir my heart and loosen my emotions.

(The Excerpts are from: “Politics and the English Language”, by George Orwell. This essay is probably, outside of the Bible, one of the most influential pieces of literature in my whole life.) This can be found at:

http://www.resort.com/~prime8/Orwell/patee.html

or

http://www.calvinvanhoek.com/articles/2007/04/politics-english-language/

Keeping Busy

Well, just to summarize the past few weeks...

1. Elijah's hearning...Two weeks after Elijah was born, the hospital called and said that he failed his original hearing screen, and it would have to be repeated. Long story short... four doctor visits later, it does appear that he can hear normally, and the first test was a "false positive". So we are glad of that, though had some frustrations for awhile with just not knowing.

2. Paperwork... Elijah is now the proud owner (well, actually, he is somewhat neutral about the whole affair) of a Thai Birth Certificate, US passport, US Birth Abroad Record, and Indian six month visa. Hooray. More paperwork revealed that he evidently does not need a visa for Thailand on this trip (since legally, he never entered Thailand), though one never knows what the airport may bring.

3. Retreating... so we just started a one week retreat up in the hills, and then next week have a couple more meetings and doctor visits, and then finally heading out soon.

4. Traveling...we train out of Chiang Mai for Bangkok on August 4, spend a few days in BKK, and then fly to New Delhi August 12, where we will stay with cousin Amos and Rowena (as Robert Frost said, "Home is that place that, when you go there, they have to take you in.") , and then get train tickets for our Fair city, hopefully arriving back before the 20th.

5. How are the kids? Great. We have childcare at the retreat center, so there is a several little packs of kids running around, including a pack of 6 to 8 year old girls. Nora Grace is ecstatic to have all contact with other children with a Christian world view. Miriam is ecstatic to have someone pay lots of attention to her, Sam is happy because Sam is just "Mr. Happy", and because he can run around and climb a lot, and Elijah is happy as long as lunch is on time.

6. How are Amy and Lowell? we are fine. Thanks for asking. Enjoying having someone else pour some energy into our children, enjoying having other like minded people to talk to, enjoying green grass, trees, running water, croaking frogs, blue sky with white clouds, and other things that I sometimes forget what they look and sound like.

“The Baby” in My Grandmothers Journal…

My paternal Grandmother (“Grossmummy”, for those who know her) was an Amish woman who bore seven children during the difficult years of the Great Depression.

It was my privilege to read her diary/notebook for the year 1932. Grossmummy preferred speaking Pennsylvania Dutch (my loss), but wrote in English, as that was the language of commerce, and most of the “diary” is actually more of a farm journal, telling about the various projects they had going on the farm and elsewhere to try and make ends meet.

The Journal was for the year 1932. My Dad was born in 1931, the sixth of what would be seven children (the two oldest boys – Alvin and Raymond, whom I never met -- had not yet died).

The Journal covered the time from when my Dad was 3 months old, to when he was 15 months old. Most of it tells of the day to day happenings of the farm, lots of details, including prices of wheat and corn and tomatoes etc. Lots of people are mentioned, which children did what, who visited, etc.

At no point does she mention my Dad by name. She only refers to him as “the baby.” She mentions all the other children and numerous other relatives, but there is no “Freddy”, only “the baby.”

Maybe I am reading too much into it, but it does make me wonder what that means. Why would a pre-vaccination, depression era woman not refer to her baby by name?

Maybe it was simply that there were too many of them. :) I have only four, and find myself going through a list of names before I get to the actual name of my fourth child.

It is odd how I don’t care for Pork as much any more.

Our house in India is “halal”. That is an Arabic word, similar to “kosher”. That means there are no pork products allowed in the house. This is for the sake of our Muslim friends, who are forbidden to eat pig meat. While we are free to eat as we please, if our Muslim friends found out that there had once been pig meat on the plates we serve them with, they would find that disgusting and rude.

(Handy hint when having Practicing Muslims over to your home: use paper plates.)

Our friends know we are allowed to eat pork, and are grateful that we have made this sacrifice on their behalf. They even tease us about it.

So when we are not in our home, such as visiting or traveling, there are no problems for us to eat pork, ham, and bacon. But none in our home in India.

After eight years of this, it is odd to me that I neither crave pork products, nor go out of my way to get them. Indeed, while here in Thailand, surrounded by some of the most incredibly luscious pork loins, bacon and ham that we have found, I have no desire to indulge. When it is served, I do eat it, and even enjoy it. But it is strange to me how I do not desire it anymore.

What will my Muslim friends think? If they teased me before, they will REALLY tease me now. :)

I humbly stand willing to be re-acculturated when we get back.

They Really Do Want To Understand Us…

The inscrutable Americans scattered around the world are generally tolerated, and often appreciated. The sheer size of our economy means that it is to the benefit of others to understand Americans.

The people of Thailand are no exception. With a booming economy, and one of the “Asian Tigers”, Thailand is a nation that would benefit a lot from understanding a bit more about this massive trading partner.

So one of the local English language newspapers offers this very helpful service: they print a popular comic strip (in this case, “Calvin and Hobbes”), and then have someone explain the humor in the strip. This is done as a service for those who do not speak English that well.

What a deal, maybe I will learn something myself!

To Clarify About Comments

For those who keep track, I promised at some point in the distant past that I would reply to comments. Well, ... I guess I am not doing that anymore. I do read them and appreciate them, and will often reply, but sorry I haven't replied to all.

"Sam, Would You Knock It Off..."

OK, so that is a direct quote from me, the Dad, to the number one son.

Who would have thought, years ago, that mild-mannered and good-natured Lowell would be using such strong language with his own child.

The funny thing is, I don't think I feel sorry. It really struck me as the most appropriate thing to say. I am trying to remember if my Dad ever said that (or the generational equivalent) to me? I am sure I probably deserved it on many occasions.

He really is a good kid, but, wow, he can be relentless. :)

An Impossible Task

We took Elijah to the US Embassy here in Bangkok this morning to apply for a passport and Social Security Number, and get his official Birth Abroad form. (Interestingly, the US Embassy here is surrounded by a moat. I am sure they would call it a "decorative pool" or something like that, but bottom line is a ditch of water the whole way around.)

In order to get a passport, one needs Passport Photos. The official requirements for the photo, are that the distance from the bottom of the chin to the top of the head must be between one inch and 1 and 3/8th inch. No more and no less. And you are also required to have the ears showing.

Now comes the Impossible part. Our darling child, now ten days old, has a very round head. If you make the face so it is the required height, then the ears stick out and don't show up in the photo. We had this same problem in India, but people are much more pleasant about our woes here.

So after double checking with several "higher ups", they finally made the decision to accept the photos, even if one of the ears doesn't show up.

Of the trials and tribulations of being ten days old and having very large cheeks. Even the government harrasses you.

Elijah

The Much Requested Photos of "The Boy"

Elijah Scott Frederick Stoltzfus, at three days of age. Note in one of the pictures is one of the reasons he has already earned the nickname "One Eyed Bart".

New Baby Arrival

Amy with Elijah, as we are leaving the Hospital. And Sam, being his usual helpful self.

The Big Sisters and Big Brother

Here is baby Elijah, with his siblings, when he is about 24 hours old. They were pretty keyed up. Elijah was hungry.

Sam is Relentlessly Determined to Take Care of this Baby

Sam is fascinated by this new wiggleling, squawking thing that has turned up in Mom's arms. Elijah is very much the object of Sam's affection and interest.

With relentless determination he circles Elijah, tossing him toys, shouting at him to drink juice, kissing him, patting his head, helpfully pointing out Elijah's nose and fingers.

Elijah will have to learn to survive all this affection.

Such a Heavy Decistion...

We brought Elijah home from the Hospital on Sunday (we will probably call him "Eli" for short). Amy busied herself in the apartment for a few minutes, and Eli started crying. I picked him up, and took a breath to begin singing to him before Amy would come and feed him.

Suddenly it struck me... this would be the first song that Eli would hear... it should be a good one!

My head started running through the many possibilities -- and there are so many to choose from -- but I kept coming back to hymns about the Church. Now there is a group of hymns that can easily bring tears to my eyes (who am I kidding? it doesn't take much to bring tears to my eyes, and most any hymn can do it in the right circumstances).

So I picked up my hymnal that I don't travel without (the red one, 1969 edition), and started in on Bealoth (I love Thy Kingdom, LORD), followed by "O Where are Kings and Empires Now?" (St. Anne), For All the Saints (Sine Nomine), Aurelia (The Church's One Foundation), and Austrian Hymn (Glorious Things of Thee are Spoken).

Elijah, however, wanted milk.

Elijah Scott Frederick Stoltzfus

Lowell and Amy are pleased to announce the birth of Elijah Scott Frederick Stoltzfus at 12:27PM local time on Friday, 20 June 2008 in Bangkok, Thailand. That was about an hour ago, as I type.

Mom and baby are doing well, as are the rest of the family.

Elijah came into the world at 3570 grams, with a head circumphrence of 36 cm, and a length of 54 cm.

Photos forthcoming, though I may not be on here for a few days.

By Way of Keeping you all up to date

Hello reading friends,

As I write, it is 7AM on Friday, June 20 local time here in Bangkok, Thailand (we are 12 hours ahead of Eastern Standard Time).

Amy had a Doctors appointment yesterday, and was told that she is three centimeters, and that if she didn't have the baby by this morning, she was to come back and they would "use Means" (to coin a phrase).

So since no baby has been forthcoming overnight, we are off to the Hospital now for Amy to have her water broken. We will keep you all up to date as events transpire.

Is it dishonest to be late (barring unforeseen circumstances)?

A good friend and fine writer, AP, recently had a blog entry to this effect, with dozens of comments. (Hmmm, I need to figure out how to put in links to other blogs).


Many of the comments to AP's blog appealed to "culture", saying that in many cultures, being "late" was a cultural thing. Interestingly, those from the other cultures who wrote in, said it was not.

I have observed the following things about India, where "lateness" might be considered a "cultural" thing:

1. The movies start on time. If you want to see the beginning of a move, you show up on time.
2. The trains leave their point of origin on time (this is not about when they arrive, but when they leave). No one in India shows up at the train station late (or if they do, they usually expect to miss their train).
3. When a politician caused a commerical airplane flight to leave late (because the politician showed up late), it nearly caused rioting, and led to a quiet resolve among airline pilots to never wait for anyone, even (especially?) a politician.
4. When a specialized doctor gives you an appointment, you show up on time. (You still might wait, but you do show up on time).
5. If an official gives you an appointment time, you show up on time.


So something to think about.

Contact Information

For the next six weeks or so, here is our contact information:

Our phone number at our apartment:
country code: 066
city code: 02
phone number: 656.3535
then you hear something in Thai and dial 321
From the US, I think that would mean: 066.2.656.3535 (pause) 321
But I could be wrong.
We are 12 hours ahead of New York City, for time.

Emergency phone contact would be Tom and Candice at: 085.165.5517 or 02.758.0138.

Mailing address (this is good until middle of July, as we will LW leave the country on August 7)
Tom Mast
attn: Stoltzfus
419/216 Moo 5 Thippawan 1 Soi 12
T. Bang Muang Mai
A. Muang
Samut Prakan, 10270 THAILAND

Long time since I posted...

Hello all,

It has been a long time since I posted.

We made it safely to Bangkok last month, and are settled in waiting for the baby. We did make it "safely", but a bit tired, with two nights of very little sleep, since the only time we could travel was at night. Makes for intersting personalities in our children.

We got settled in, are enjoying cooler weather (a mere 90-100 degrees), daily showers (meaning rain falling from the sky. We also continue to try to keep up satisfactory hygiene).

We had our first conference, which was much enjoyed, took a three vacation days, and spent a lot of time at the hospital for various things for all members of the family, from shots to dentists to minor surgery to broken collarbones.

Our internet connection is a bit sketchy, so I am at a cafe, which is where we will be doing most of our email. I hope to write and post more in the coming weeks.

It has been ages since I have had so much fun with the Ten Commandments

I was studying Exodus 20 with this Muslim guy, when he came across the second commandment. To writ:

"You shall not make for yourself a carved image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or that is in the earth beneath, or that is in the water under the earth. You shall not bow down to them or serve them, for I the LORD your God am a jealous God..."

He was really excited to read this, and called a bunch of his friends in to hear it also.

Muslims think that Christians worship idols. What with Catholic and other statuary and crucifixes and images on stained glass, they may have a point. It soothed him so much to realize that idols are actually forbidden in Christianity.

I am not so sure he caught the whole explanation I gave as to why many Christians do have images of God in their homes and meetinghouses, but it was nice to see him excited about the Bible.

I guess my own spiritual ancestors got in trouble for breaking up statuary in Catholic places, so what to do?

At Least He was the Guest Speaker

Visited a new Fellowship yesterday. The Sunday School was great and worship was a delight; but I was less than impressed with the Speaker.

I call him “the Speaker” and not “the Preacher”, because there was no actual preaching involved.

He started with a PowerPoint presentation with lots of well shot images and graphs. This was followed by a number of inspirational quotes and helpful aphorisms. He would connect these with thought provoking questions followed by long, serious pauses. He talked a bit about current events in the popular press, and it was fairly clear he spent a fair amount a time watching CNN. He tossed in a couple of more professional pictures on the screen, along with a couple of challenging video clips, and then closed with prayer.

The one time he mentioned the Bible, the verse was misquoted and taken out of context.

You can’t preach without the Bible, and you cannot call yourself a Preacher if you do not use the Bible.

Sunday morning should be reserved for the Bible, and a qualified man to exposit what it is saying to us in our times. A typical sermon should require many hours of Bible Study.

Granted, I get on a soapbox for lots of things, but getting up on Sunday morning and not using the Bible is one of the ways that really gets me miffed.

Anyways, I did enjoy everything else, and should be grateful for how God blesses us in so many ways.

Working My Way Systematically through The Christian Hymnery Really Seemed Like the Most Logical Thing to Do...

On most days in April in Varanasi, we get electicity for about 12 to 15 hours. So the people of Varanasi do just what you would do if you had electricity cuts for so many hours. Namely, they make Inverters for their homes, which are a series of huge batteries that can keep your fans and lights running when there is no electricity, and then recharge when the electricity returns. It is a system that works reasonably well.

However, yesterday, a huge transformer near our house blew up, leaving a small part of our neighborhood -- including the home of yours truly -- completely without electricity. But of course, our Inverter still worked for the time being. So our lights and fans still worked. For a time.

I first realized what had happened about 2AM (you really shouldn't need to ask why I would be up at 2AM), so I turned off everything except the fan where we were sleeping, in hopes of saving the Inverter.

This worked for quite awhile. All through the day, we limited our Inverter usage to one fan, so as to save the batteries. It worked for awhile, but eventually, without electricity to recharge its batteries, the Inverter began to die.

There is no more agonizing thing than sitting and watching the fan go slower and slower and slower, till finally it just dies. No electricity, no Inverter, and it is 115 degrees. What to do?

Anything requiring movement resulted in copious sweating, so that even writing couldn't happen. So eventually I pulled down a hymnal, and just sat and sang, hymn after hymn. As you can see, it really was the Logical Thing to do. :)

The girls all had their requests: Nora Grace likes "Arise My Soul, Arise" and "Oh Have You Not Heard of That Beautiful Stream", Miriam likes any Hymn that includes the word "Children" in it's title or somewhere in its words (Christopher Dock's "O Little Children, Gather" is probably her current fav). Sam attempted to dance to "Gott ist die Liebe" and "So nimm denn meine Hande".

And eventually the electricty was restored, and we went back to work. Everybody and everything is getting recharged.

Question: When making Kool-Aid, why is it important that we add the sugar first, BEFORE we add the Kool-Aid powder?

Answer: Well, the sugar usually has various non-sugar things in it. So we add the sugar first, so that we can filter out the non-sugar stuff that floats to the top, and then we add the Kool Aid powder and mix. :)

Breakfast Conversation

Having young children means that often we don't get to do much talking. There is too much talking going on already. The conversation at breakfast this morning went something like this...

Nora Grace: Daddy, we are made from dust. Miriam did you know that we are made of dust?

Miriam: Daddy, can you help me get some milk? Daddy are we made of dust?

Sam: JOOSE!! JOOSE!!

Nora Grace (now singing): Oh, yes... we are made of dust... we are made of dust... and to dust we shall we return.

Sam: MORE MORE MORE MORE!!!!

Nora Grace: I like Wheat Flakes. Daddy, am I your Wheat Flakes Girl? (giggles).

Miriam (angry): I LIKE WHEAT FLAKES TOO, I AM DADDY'S WHEAT FLAKES GIRL. Daddy, it's dusty. Are we made from dust?

Sam: JOOSE!! JOOSE!!

Nora Grace: Daddy, are wheat flakes made from dust like we are made from dust? Sam is made from dust.

Miriam: Sam is NOT made from dust, Sam is made from puppy dog tails.

Sam: MORE!! MORE!!

(Sam then throws up)

Amy: Hmmm. I wonder if Sam is not feeling well.

Sam: JOOSE!! MORE!! JOOSE!! MORE!!

Nora Grace: Sam is too made from dust, isn't he Daddy? Is throw up made from dust?

(Editors note: this portion of conversation took less than 30 seconds, and continued in this vein for 30 minutes straight.)

Brand Placement to a whole new level.

In the US, when a new movie comes out, they sell all kinds of cheap plastic stuff at fast food places, to advertise the movie.

Jodhaa Akbar is a recent Indian movie (quite a good one, I am told) starring some of the biggest names in Bollywood. It is the timeless historical story of a Muslim Emporer who marries a Hindu Princess -- for political reasons -- and then they find themselves falling in love. As with most Bollywood fair, it is three hours long and involves a fair amount of dancing.

The movie is fameous for many things in India, one of which is the incredible jewelery that the Princess wears, all of it is real.

So now in India, at the jewelery shops, you can buy Jodhaa Akbar themed jewelry, from "The Jodhaa Akbar Collection".

Guess is beats a cheap plastic toy from China.

Usual Week

So what is usual? Well, maybe there isn't one. :)

Clinic for me was the usual mishmash of illnesses, fevers, psychological problems, teaching of "Junior Doctors" and so on. Nobody too sick or scary this week. One kid with a fever of 104, of unclear origin, which of course can lead to much speculation as to the source.

Nora Grace reads amazingly well. She is already reading her Bible without too much problem (and I mean a real the English Standard Version, not some paraphrased children's version). But math is such a struggle for her. She still struggles with even basic addition and subtraction, though does seem to be making slow progress.

I talked about the Bible with some folks, and prayed for a lot more. I studied a bit more in Matthew and the Psalms in Urdu. I read some Urdu poems and went to a seminar about Urdu Novels. I attended a function celebrating a Free Eye Camp that I helped with.

I taught some Geography and Computer Skills to Nora Grace, took Miriam out on some errands one day, which totally made her week.

Hmmmm, I am rambling. It is a bit hot, though not too bad for April. I will, LW, lead worship tomorrow. I have a staph infection on my face that looks pretty ugly, but I think is finally starting to clear up.

These aren't April Fools, Just All the News that's Fit to Print

Enclosed are some newspaper clippings from this mornings' paper. Enjoy. :)

One talks about a "Pulse Polio Campaign", where various Health Care Personnel attempt to immunized all children of a certain age for polio on one particular day (We still have hundreds of cases of polio near us each year). Unfortunately, the villages took the team hostage, hoping to have some demands met (unclear what the demands are).

Another talks of a group of housewives who "Thrash" some criminals who had stolen the ladies gold chains, but interestingly the thrashing takes place inside the Police department.

And my personal favorite, the news that the "majority of women in the US are now opting to become surrogate mothers." To all those delightful women out their who took the time and effort to have their own children, perhaps you didn't know that actually most women in the US pay someone else to have their children for them. Ah, capitilism.

And yes, Lowell still cannot spell.

PS: these are NOT April Fools stories, these are typical stories I read in the paper every morning.

Holi 2008

Holi is a Hindu Festival of undetermined significance (well, if you ask five people, you get five answers) where they throw colored water and colored paste on each other. We did not actually partake this year, as we live in a neighborhood where no one plays, but I thought I would post a few photos. So below is a seven year old photo of my wife, plus some friends, plus one I found on the internet.

My Aunt Lydia is really good at Photo Manipulation

Last August, my Dad climbed Pikes Peak in Colorado, with my two sisters. This my Dad's sister got ahold of the photos.

And yes, I do have a canister of Raleigh's Medicated Ointment here with us in Varanasi, for emergencies.

Maybe I am getting ill...

I keep my phone on "vibrate" mode (in addition to ringing) because I often I cannot hear it ring when I am outside. And I store my phone in my front pocket.

Three times on my way home yesterday, I thought I was recieving a phone call, and picked my phone out of my pocket. Each time, I was wrong. In stead of the "vibrate" mode, it was just my stomach churning.

I wonder what that means for the future?

Confluence of Holiness

This weekend marks a lot of celebrations for a lot of communities in India.

As the Muslims follow the Lunar Calendar, the Hindus use a variety of astrological means for determining their holidays, and the Christians use the moon to tell when Easter is coming... all this adds up to all three of them having a holiday on Friday. Hasn't happened all at once in quite awhile.

So the Christians celebrated Good Friday on Friday (Easter is pretty much unknown to Hindus and Muslims, but Good Friday is known because it is a Bank and Government holiday). It also happened to be Mohammed's birthday. (The more "Protestant" types of Muslims don't celebrate this, but the more "Catholic" types of Muslims -- who are the majority-- celebrate with much fervour.) And then the Hindu festival (the unfortunately named) Holi is on Friday and Saturday. As the Hindu Holi festival is a bad time to be out on the streets, we took Friday and Saturday as "stay at home" days, and enjoyed the family together.

It's Friday... but Sunday's a'comin'...

Way to Use Your Head, Son

Nora Grace has had a loose tooth for about four months now. It is one of her front ones -- the other front one having fell out some months ago. Although we have encouraged her to wiggle it, it has stubbornly stayed in or she has stubbornly refused to wiggle or some combination of the above.

Until today.

Sam was in a wrestling mood (when is Sam not in a wrestling mood?) and tackled Nora Grace. With clever use of his head, he smacked himself into her mouth, thereby dislodging said tooth once and for all. As expected, there was blood everywhere.

Way to use your head, Sam, you did a good job.

So how many rupees does one get for a tooth under the pillow?

Prime Minister in Town

Varanasi has not had a visit from a sitting Prime Minister in over 20 years, so I guess it was time. But my oh my does it mess up traffic.
We only have half a dozen roads wider than ten feet for our two million people, so if one of those gets shut down, the whole city grinds to a halt.
The PM will be visiting a major temple in the center of the city, and to get there will need to drive on most of the main roads in the city. So all of those roads will be shut down for most of the day today.
There are probably 10,000 armed men of various sorts on the road today, mostly acting as traffic cops. As the typical "man on the street" in Varanasi pays no attention to Traffic Cops, when something important actually happens (such as today), the only way to get those "men on the streets" attention is to deploy large numbers of heavily armed men with very large sticks to beat and berate people into staying off the road.
So I am sitting in a chai shop, waiting for a lull so I can dash around to the next appointment I have.

Family Commotion

We often have a Family Devotions after supper, where we read a passage of scripture, sing a song or two, and pray.

We had not had a Family Devotions for several days, having been visiting, or otherwise detained. So the other night, when we finally had a quiet night at home, Nora Grace asked, "Can we have Family Commotion?"

Which we did.

Weather Change

I am always amazed at how quickly the temperature changes here. When it goes from hot season to cold season, or vice versa, there is very little "in-between" weather, just one or the other.

Two weeks ago we were wearing long johns, and couldn't get the house above 62 degrees. Today it was 100 degrees outside, and we can't get the house below 75. So we are packing up our winter clothes, and pulling out the short sleeved stuff.

Flag March

It being another Hindu festival (Shivratri, the details escape me), there is again some tension in the city, so there are troops all over the place. They all appear to be bored, so presumably that is a good thing.

They held a "Flag March" today. A Flag March is when they all get in their best uniforms, shine up their weapons real well, and walk or drive through any "problem neighborhoods" to just to show any potential malcontents that they are a real force to be reckoned with.

Problem being that the "problem neighborhoods" are the ones I go through every day. So I was stuck in traffic jams for close to two hours today. Good thing I brought my crossword puzzle and Teach Yourself Urdu book.

That's My Boy!!

Here is Sam, catching up on the latest International Headlines and Financial news from The Economist.

Between Nora Graces' asking about the obituary, to Miriam's contently sitting and listening while I read the Editorials aloud, to this, ..... makes me proud to be a father.

My New All Time Favorite Photo of Miriam

Auntie Anita took this one last month at the "Fish Museum".

another Sleepover

This is Nora Grace and Miriam's friend, (the aptly named) Gabi. Gabi is from Brazil, and moved into our apartment complex a few months ago, much to the delight of our daughters. Most of the kids in our complex are boys, which Nora Grace and Miriam have mixed feelings about playing with, so Gabi is a good friend.

Sadly, she had to leave suddenly to return to Brazil, as her Grandmother is quite ill, hence our daughters are a bit mopey at the moment.

Busy, Depressed or Both

Hello GentleReaders,
It has been a long, long time since I wrote anything on here. I need to catch up some.

We are doing well. Usually when I don't say much, it is because I am too busy, or am feeling down, and this past couple of weeks it has been a little bit of both. Been quite busy, which is good. But some close friends are returning to the States and so that is a bit of a bummer.

what to do? I am supposed to be preaching on Philippians chapter one this Sunday, so need to get to work on that.

Payment in Thyme

I usually do not charge for a followup visit for an ill patient. So if someone needs a lot of followup visits for a particular acute illness, it can start to make the numbers look a bit odd.

Had a German gal in a month ago with a pretty bad case of Typhoid Fever, who needed several followup visits over the past month, for which I did not charge.

So on her last visit yesterday, she brought in a jar of dried Thyme from her mother's garden in Germany as a "thank you" gift.

Tastes great in Tomato soup!

One often has to figure out creative ways to tell just how ill someone is. With this particular patient, it was somewhat easy, as she volunteered the information (at the height of her illness), "I usually clean my house from top to bottom everyday, and I haven't been able to clean my house for a week". (That is a clue as to how ill she is).

She is back to cleaning her house every day.

Sam got a Hammer for Christmas

The aforementioned Uncle Ian and Auntie Courtney gave my 15 month old son a hammer for Christmas, thereby proving the old adage, "When you have a hammer in your hand, many things begin to look like nails".

We don't allow open swinging of the hammer at his sisters respective heads, however.

Miriam at Christmas

Here is a photo of Miriam on Christmas Day with her new doll, which she is quite fond of. THANK YOU Ian and Courtney!!

Catch up Photos...

My photos on this blog tend to run a few weeks late. Keeping in the theme of things, here is a photo of Nora Grace and her good friend (sahali) Zoya, who have both lost their front teeth at the same time. The photo is circa Christmas 2007.

Thailand Comings and Goings...

We had a delightful and restful time in Thailand, thanks to the Amazing Masts.

They have two little girls also. Thus, the "screetchiness factor" (as Lileks calls it) got a bit high at times, but what to do.

We got nine injections between us, and Miriam was quite impressed that Daddy did not cry for his injections. Several Dentists visits also, as well as an othodox OB visit for Amy.

"Auntie" Anita took the girls to the "Fish Museum", (aka Aquarium), and we all went swimming one day.

We ate a large variety of animals that are not available in Our Fair City, including but not limited to, cow, fish, shrimp, and pig.

Between all that and two days of meetings with Dan, a good time was had by all.

Sam slept through the night from his first night there, but has on return returned to the pattern of waking up crying a few times throughout the night. Hmmmm, what TO do?

I am back at work.

On Being Known, Whether I Want to be or Not...

We came into Varanasi the other day, coming through Customs in the usual lines of tourists coming from around the world. I assumed I looked like everybody else. Amy and the kids had grabbed a seat nearby while I stood in the long lines.

One of the tourists in the other line asked the Customs Official in front of her, "Whose are those lovely children?"

Without looking up from his forms, the Customs Official simply said, "Doctor Sahab has three children, they are his," while giving a nod of his head in my direction.

Hmmm, they know who I am in Customs? I hope that is good news and not bad. :)

A Sort of Ethical Issue for a Mennonite Man

Choice Books is a group that sells books across the USA. They set up simple displays in Truck Stops, Supermarkets and other places of business. They sell mostly Christian and Inspirational literature, but also include "Local Color" titles, a few cookbooks, and a few about the Amish and Mennonites (who are also the people who run Choice Books).

They have displays in almost 10,000 locations across America, and sell millions of titles per year.

Recently, one of the guys who works for them received an invitation to set up a display in one of America's largest Army bases.

"Huh," he thought, as he looked at the email, "Wasn't my Amish grandfather imprisoned there for refusing to bear arms in World War I?"

What to do? Does the Army Base even know that we are Concientious Objectors? (Turns out they did :) )

So now they are selling dozens of books each week at the Base.

Whadayouknow?

PS: We are staying with the Masts in Thailand, having meetings and getting all the kids in for shots and medical care, besides eating a little pig, cow and fish on the side. Sam has, with minimal bloodshed, successfully learned to crawl up and down stairs, and our girls are having a blast playing with the Mast girls.

Lowell's Answer to any possible World wide Recession that may or may not happen

I am not sure what the state of the world's economy, but I do now know a solution to any possible slowdown in productivity.

Brazilian coffee.

We have new neighbors who are from Brazil, and they gave Amy a bag of coffee beans from their fair land last week.

Whoo, boy. Export that stuff to the world, and we will all be working a mile a minute.

I am getting so much done this week!

Course, I gotta get a bunch done, as there are a bunch of things I have to finish up before we head to Thailand for a visa run next week.

Staying Busy

I think most of us around the world are saying something similar. December Holidays are over, and it is time to settle down to the real world and get some work done.

We have nothing to exciting to report here. I am working at the various clinics, studying the Bible in Urdu, studying Urdu, and parenting. Most of the winter's colds and flu's seem to be over. I preached on Matthew 5 on Sunday, title was: "Christ and the Law".

Oh, we are pregnant. That being the royal "we", of course. Not sure if many know that yet or not. Probably will not be an official announcement. "We" are due the end of June sometime. Suggestions for names? (Perhaps we have already used up the good ones? :) )

Uh oh

I think my hard drive has died on our home computer (I am writing from an internet cafe).

I have most of the stuff backed up, except about 250 emails. Hmmmmm. Not sure how to fix this. Will keep you posted as the adventure continues.

We did have some excellent meat yesterday at a friends house, including some of the forbidden kind.... wow was that good.

The Urdu word for "Journey" is pronounced "Suffer"

Sometimes you come across these funny little things about language. I have no idea if there is an actual linguistic connection or not, I just think it is amusing.

I was reminded of this as our landlord was packing up to visit his brother in Bihar. He has about 150 miles to drive, and expects it to take 10 or more hours (Bihar is a failed state within India fameous for its utter lack of infrastructure).

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.