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Friday, July 27, 2012
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Ten lessons only India could have taught me.
I have spent nearly four months in India this year. I'm a better person for it. I can't say the lessons learned have been easy and that India was a paradise. They weren't and it isn't. I'm so glad I went and here are just a few of the reasons why.
1. I have an appreciation for clean, pure drinking water. When Christ uses "living" water as figurative imagery in the Bible, I get it. I really get it. Safe drinking water was essential for survival in the hot, humid Indian climate and I learned to always carry water with me wherever I went. I'm grateful for the deeper understanding that experience gave me regarding the importance of never being far from another essential source: the words and teachings of the Savior.
2. I'm grateful for the scientists and doctors who have devoted their life's work to preventing and immunizing children against common childhood diseases such as measles and whooping cough.
3. I'm glad that I have been blessed with competent, accessible medical and dental care.
4. I appreciate the education that I and my family have received. We worked hard for that knowledge, but the tools for self-improvement were readily available if we put forth the effort.
5. I'm glad that I live in a world where women are respected and allowed to fulfill their dreams and ambitions.
6. I am forever proud to be a citizen of the United States of America, a Country that has not yet forgotten its poor and humble. It is a privilege and an honor to pay taxes in such a country.
7. I am so blessed to be able to read and to have ready library access to virtually any book that may catch my fancy.
8. I appreciate all the modern conveniences of a kitchen - running water, pots, pans, plates, silverware, glasses . . . . . .all of it.
9. I'm glad for traffic rules and regulations in the U.S. Even though I'm presently dodging a photo radar ticket, I'm still grateful for traffic safety.
10. I love our clean air, our clean streets, and especially the garbage pick-up service.
There you have it. I could name more, but ten will have to do. Thank you, India, for humbling me. Thank you for bringing me out of my self-satisfied, smug, secure cocoon. Thank you for teaching me that I'm made of tougher stuff than I imagined. And thank you for helping me to become a human being.
May I never forget you, India. I can't. You have all my money now.
1. I have an appreciation for clean, pure drinking water. When Christ uses "living" water as figurative imagery in the Bible, I get it. I really get it. Safe drinking water was essential for survival in the hot, humid Indian climate and I learned to always carry water with me wherever I went. I'm grateful for the deeper understanding that experience gave me regarding the importance of never being far from another essential source: the words and teachings of the Savior.
2. I'm grateful for the scientists and doctors who have devoted their life's work to preventing and immunizing children against common childhood diseases such as measles and whooping cough.
3. I'm glad that I have been blessed with competent, accessible medical and dental care.
4. I appreciate the education that I and my family have received. We worked hard for that knowledge, but the tools for self-improvement were readily available if we put forth the effort.
5. I'm glad that I live in a world where women are respected and allowed to fulfill their dreams and ambitions.
6. I am forever proud to be a citizen of the United States of America, a Country that has not yet forgotten its poor and humble. It is a privilege and an honor to pay taxes in such a country.
7. I am so blessed to be able to read and to have ready library access to virtually any book that may catch my fancy.
8. I appreciate all the modern conveniences of a kitchen - running water, pots, pans, plates, silverware, glasses . . . . . .all of it.
9. I'm glad for traffic rules and regulations in the U.S. Even though I'm presently dodging a photo radar ticket, I'm still grateful for traffic safety.
10. I love our clean air, our clean streets, and especially the garbage pick-up service.
There you have it. I could name more, but ten will have to do. Thank you, India, for humbling me. Thank you for bringing me out of my self-satisfied, smug, secure cocoon. Thank you for teaching me that I'm made of tougher stuff than I imagined. And thank you for helping me to become a human being.
May I never forget you, India. I can't. You have all my money now.
Monday, July 16, 2012
Three wonderful things about India
Michael, Vennila, and Stephen - what you do with your new lives is entirely up to you now. We aren't your babysitters, sponsors, or landlords. We're just your friends.
Now get busy.
Love,
Mike and Betty
Friday, July 6, 2012
WHEAR Your Seatbelts
Honestly. I'm thinking of applying for a work visa and coming over here for six months to clean house. The plan is to work for the Indian Government, what tattered remnant of that inept institution remains. I will apply for a position as an English translator. My sole responsibility will be to correct traffic and business signs. Our very favorite sign so far is "Tolet". We thought it meant "toilet" for DAYS. Then we realized there is no such thing as a public toilet. We were stumped. AHA. A light bulb went on (in Mike's head, I must confess). If a space is inserted between To and let, what do you get?
YES, my friends! There is a flat TO LET. Translation: Apartment for rent.
One thing the Indians have a great deal of confidence in is their ability to speak, read, and write English. I must sadly inform you that their confidence is ill advised. Adjectives, verb tense, adverbs, indeedy, even subjects, can appear anywhere at any time in oral conversation. "I be most pleesed to inform you Madam that your failure to understand a single word an "English Speaking Indian" is saying to you is undoubtedly YOUR fault because you are a not smartest person".
Forget trying to read anything an Indian writes. Here's the best part about the entire charade. Indians are blissfully unaware of their language limitations. They become highly offended when our eyes glaze over and we tentatively ask for a translation of the OBVIOUS written transaction. We have dozens of business transaction notices that are written in such a way that we may or may not have spent 60 rupees or 60,000 rupees at Shankar Ram's House of Physic Pleasures. Who knows? What fun it's going to be when we return home and get our Visa card bill. What we were charged for versus what we actually bought will most certainly be endlessly entertaining. We probably went to many exotic and exciting places we can't remember having ever visited.
So. Remember! WHEAR your seatbelts. and HELLMETS Save LIFES. We certainly can't fault India for its creativity. Could someone please send us an English Dictionary? We are forgotten our own selfs how to spoke the English Tong.
YES, my friends! There is a flat TO LET. Translation: Apartment for rent.
One thing the Indians have a great deal of confidence in is their ability to speak, read, and write English. I must sadly inform you that their confidence is ill advised. Adjectives, verb tense, adverbs, indeedy, even subjects, can appear anywhere at any time in oral conversation. "I be most pleesed to inform you Madam that your failure to understand a single word an "English Speaking Indian" is saying to you is undoubtedly YOUR fault because you are a not smartest person".
Forget trying to read anything an Indian writes. Here's the best part about the entire charade. Indians are blissfully unaware of their language limitations. They become highly offended when our eyes glaze over and we tentatively ask for a translation of the OBVIOUS written transaction. We have dozens of business transaction notices that are written in such a way that we may or may not have spent 60 rupees or 60,000 rupees at Shankar Ram's House of Physic Pleasures. Who knows? What fun it's going to be when we return home and get our Visa card bill. What we were charged for versus what we actually bought will most certainly be endlessly entertaining. We probably went to many exotic and exciting places we can't remember having ever visited.
So. Remember! WHEAR your seatbelts. and HELLMETS Save LIFES. We certainly can't fault India for its creativity. Could someone please send us an English Dictionary? We are forgotten our own selfs how to spoke the English Tong.
Thursday, July 5, 2012
The "Corpse Truck"
I can never take the good pictures. A couple of days ago, we breezed by what looked like a bread delivery truck parked on the sidewalk. On its side were written the words, "Corpse Truck. Death is not the end of life." They were picking up human remains from the street.
Just when I think I can't be stunned or surprised by India, she delivers another punch to the stomach.
Just when I think I can't be stunned or surprised by India, she delivers another punch to the stomach.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Maternity Ward
So many things to talk about. So little time. An internet 'service' that is possessed of evil, reincarnated spirits. But here I am for a few moments, anyway. And even though I write this for the benefit of everyone, I am especially thinking of Brad and Diane Lien, Hal and Kay Carman, and Kris and Adrian Carbine. Here is the way your beautiful children most likely got their start in life:
Last week, Vennila and I took a break from all the work we have been doing and we went to the hospital to see our friend who had just delivered a little baby boy.
I'll do my best to describe the scene for you, but I may not have adequate words or the emotional reserves. We'll see how it goes.
A public hospital in a third world country. H-m-m-m-m. How to tell you? When we arrived at the hospital, there were women everywhere in various stages of their pregnancies sitting or lying in the dirt outside of the entrance to the 'hospital'. The hospital itself resembled a parking garage - a very dirty parking garage. We walked up a long, filthy, enclosed bare cement ramp until we reached the maternity ward. This is what I saw:
We entered a large room with four rows of approximately 15 beds in each row. Upon each bed lay a new mother and her newborn baby. I did not see a single baby that was not underweight and malnourished. Our friend's baby weighed less than five pounds at birth. I'm not a doctor, but I didn't have to be to see that at least half of the babies there should have been in some kind of intensive care unit. No baby had a diaper on. No mother had even a blanket or a pillow. What little clothing the babies wore had been provided by their mothers. Forget the fathers. Nearly 50 of them were no-shows.
Our friend's 'husband' had already abused her and kicked her out to sleep in the streets many times during her pregnancy. She had the misfortune to be born with a leg deformity that causes a significant, noticeable limp. Undesirable women are married to 'men' (I use this term loosely) who are likely going to be abusive, alcoholic, worthless, jobless, jerks. Our friend's husband did not even bother to come to the hospital to see his son. When she leaves the hospital with her underweight child, she will have to throw herself upon the mercy of family members who may or may not feel inclined to care for or feed two more people. Her husband has kicked her out into the streets for good.
Brad and Diane, Hal and Kay, Kris and Adrian, this is very likely how your own beautiful children got their own starts in life. I hope enough time hasn't gone by that you don't kiss and hold them at every opportunity. Tell them that you love them every time you speak their names. For every child you rescued, there are thousands of children who have entered life with no safety net of any kind. India has the highest infant mortality rate in the world. India is a country with no soul.
Every day, we see such sadness, it overwhelms us. We are living out of the safety of an organized 'tour' group or service organization. We see things tourists are protected from seeing.
Our own beautiful Vennila's two beautiful boys each weighed less than five pounds at birth. She was fifteen when Stephen was born and seventeen when Michael came along. Her sons were born in a maternity ward like the one I just tried to describe. Her 'husband' did not come to see her.
This is so long. It is so sad. When I'm not poking fun of India and Indians, I'm crying. Mike has cried. We have been humbled every day. There is PLENTY of situations that have been hilarious. I would have rather told you about those. Somehow, it just didn't seem appropriate until I described how so many of God's precious children begin their lives. May God bless the children of India forever. Give them the souls that their government lacks.
The internet will be gone a few minutes. I did not and could not give this experience the respect and anguish that I felt. I'm so sorry. When Vennila and I left our friend, she was sobbing uncontrollably. All that I could do was tell her that with her baby boy, she had a reason to live, a soul to love, a future to work toward, and a son who would grow up one day to love her. Was I wrong to say so? Please, God. Don't let it be so.
Bye for now.
Last week, Vennila and I took a break from all the work we have been doing and we went to the hospital to see our friend who had just delivered a little baby boy.
I'll do my best to describe the scene for you, but I may not have adequate words or the emotional reserves. We'll see how it goes.
A public hospital in a third world country. H-m-m-m-m. How to tell you? When we arrived at the hospital, there were women everywhere in various stages of their pregnancies sitting or lying in the dirt outside of the entrance to the 'hospital'. The hospital itself resembled a parking garage - a very dirty parking garage. We walked up a long, filthy, enclosed bare cement ramp until we reached the maternity ward. This is what I saw:
We entered a large room with four rows of approximately 15 beds in each row. Upon each bed lay a new mother and her newborn baby. I did not see a single baby that was not underweight and malnourished. Our friend's baby weighed less than five pounds at birth. I'm not a doctor, but I didn't have to be to see that at least half of the babies there should have been in some kind of intensive care unit. No baby had a diaper on. No mother had even a blanket or a pillow. What little clothing the babies wore had been provided by their mothers. Forget the fathers. Nearly 50 of them were no-shows.
Our friend's 'husband' had already abused her and kicked her out to sleep in the streets many times during her pregnancy. She had the misfortune to be born with a leg deformity that causes a significant, noticeable limp. Undesirable women are married to 'men' (I use this term loosely) who are likely going to be abusive, alcoholic, worthless, jobless, jerks. Our friend's husband did not even bother to come to the hospital to see his son. When she leaves the hospital with her underweight child, she will have to throw herself upon the mercy of family members who may or may not feel inclined to care for or feed two more people. Her husband has kicked her out into the streets for good.
Brad and Diane, Hal and Kay, Kris and Adrian, this is very likely how your own beautiful children got their own starts in life. I hope enough time hasn't gone by that you don't kiss and hold them at every opportunity. Tell them that you love them every time you speak their names. For every child you rescued, there are thousands of children who have entered life with no safety net of any kind. India has the highest infant mortality rate in the world. India is a country with no soul.
Every day, we see such sadness, it overwhelms us. We are living out of the safety of an organized 'tour' group or service organization. We see things tourists are protected from seeing.
Our own beautiful Vennila's two beautiful boys each weighed less than five pounds at birth. She was fifteen when Stephen was born and seventeen when Michael came along. Her sons were born in a maternity ward like the one I just tried to describe. Her 'husband' did not come to see her.
This is so long. It is so sad. When I'm not poking fun of India and Indians, I'm crying. Mike has cried. We have been humbled every day. There is PLENTY of situations that have been hilarious. I would have rather told you about those. Somehow, it just didn't seem appropriate until I described how so many of God's precious children begin their lives. May God bless the children of India forever. Give them the souls that their government lacks.
The internet will be gone a few minutes. I did not and could not give this experience the respect and anguish that I felt. I'm so sorry. When Vennila and I left our friend, she was sobbing uncontrollably. All that I could do was tell her that with her baby boy, she had a reason to live, a soul to love, a future to work toward, and a son who would grow up one day to love her. Was I wrong to say so? Please, God. Don't let it be so.
Bye for now.
Monday, June 25, 2012
A Word About Servants, etc.
Well, after a few interesting unintended highlights, we finally arrived in India. Again. We did a nice little detour through Frankfurt, Germany and got to spend the night for FREE with all kinds of FREE food vouchers, thanks to United Airlines. (More on that later) In less than 24 hours we managed to eat everything in sight. Why didn't I think to stuff my pockets with food? I knew we were going to be in India for three weeks. I knew there's nothing worth eating in India. I just wasn't thinking. Or more to the point, Mike's along for the ride with me this time. I can't steal stuff when he's around.
So here we are in India. Again. The first time a person visits India, it's an "Innocents Abroad" kind of deal. If a person goes to India a second time, it's sheer stupidity. Mike fits the first description. Sort of. It's not that I didn't warn him. I most definitely fit the second definition. I'm a crazy, whacked-out, stupid person. I freely admit it.
I've been stifling impulses to laugh since the moment we walked out of the Chennai Airport and into the chaos of India. Watching Mike's face and his reaction to what he's seeing is priceless. And sweet. I want to help. I really do. But I wind up laughing.
Here's where the servant deal comes in. India's poor are housemaids, drivers, cooks, gardeners, and who knows what else, but there's LOTS of them. No matter where you stay, you're going to turn around in a very small space and there will be about five sweet faces watching your every move. You can't pick up an errant potato chip from off of the floor yourself. I haven't decided if the Indian people have figured out that we white people are helpless, infantile, paralyzed, morons, or if they really like being helpful. But let me tell you a little secret. You will never do anything private or personal again without minute examination and endless chatter and giggling.
Mike has been startled out of his wits at least a half a dozen times today. It's like watching a really scary stalker movie except this one is really happening.
Nobody can say nothing quite as long as I can. Right? For anyone who wants to know what's ACTUALLY going on, we're doing just fine. With the help of a menagerie of drivers, cooks, housecleaners, smilers, wavers, and gigglers. And we're not exactly staying at the Ritz Carlton. We are truly living with the Indians this time around. Mike is even wearing a Lungi - not exactly a diaper, but only because he refuses to take off his shorts. Wow. I never knew I had such an entertaining husband.
Well, love and kisses to all of you civilized people drinking potable water, eating edible food, and enjoying the cool weather - the weather is cooler everywhere than here in India. Enjoy your pleasant trips to the Grocery Store and the absence of witnessing public personal hygiene.
The servants are all smiling, waving, and giggling at you. Okay, everybody. All together now. SMILE!
So here we are in India. Again. The first time a person visits India, it's an "Innocents Abroad" kind of deal. If a person goes to India a second time, it's sheer stupidity. Mike fits the first description. Sort of. It's not that I didn't warn him. I most definitely fit the second definition. I'm a crazy, whacked-out, stupid person. I freely admit it.
I've been stifling impulses to laugh since the moment we walked out of the Chennai Airport and into the chaos of India. Watching Mike's face and his reaction to what he's seeing is priceless. And sweet. I want to help. I really do. But I wind up laughing.
Here's where the servant deal comes in. India's poor are housemaids, drivers, cooks, gardeners, and who knows what else, but there's LOTS of them. No matter where you stay, you're going to turn around in a very small space and there will be about five sweet faces watching your every move. You can't pick up an errant potato chip from off of the floor yourself. I haven't decided if the Indian people have figured out that we white people are helpless, infantile, paralyzed, morons, or if they really like being helpful. But let me tell you a little secret. You will never do anything private or personal again without minute examination and endless chatter and giggling.
Mike has been startled out of his wits at least a half a dozen times today. It's like watching a really scary stalker movie except this one is really happening.
Nobody can say nothing quite as long as I can. Right? For anyone who wants to know what's ACTUALLY going on, we're doing just fine. With the help of a menagerie of drivers, cooks, housecleaners, smilers, wavers, and gigglers. And we're not exactly staying at the Ritz Carlton. We are truly living with the Indians this time around. Mike is even wearing a Lungi - not exactly a diaper, but only because he refuses to take off his shorts. Wow. I never knew I had such an entertaining husband.
Well, love and kisses to all of you civilized people drinking potable water, eating edible food, and enjoying the cool weather - the weather is cooler everywhere than here in India. Enjoy your pleasant trips to the Grocery Store and the absence of witnessing public personal hygiene.
The servants are all smiling, waving, and giggling at you. Okay, everybody. All together now. SMILE!
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