Hello friends!
Just in case you didn't find your way on to the update list (or if your email bounced back... because I am still trouble shooting a couple that seem to hate me) we have our Nov. newsletter up and kicking. Give us a shout out and we'll add you to the list for future updates and (if you're realllllly nice) we can shoot out last week's update to you personally!
Here's a little teaser from the letter:
Top 10 "different" experiences
10. Fireworks from 3-10pm every night for two weeks straight
9. Watching rats and crows fight over paper for entertainment, and choosing sides
8. Having unexplained strings tied on one’s self during festival season
7. Playing human “Frogger™” to cross the street
6. Being woken at 5am by an unexplained group of people singing in the street
5. No hamburgers at McDonalds
4. Being told that you look so ‘nice and pale’ today
3. Being blocked from the office door by a herd of goats
2. Getting asked for an autograph walking home from work
1. A woman offering us her monkey which she is walking on a leash
:)
B
ps- we also are asking for continued prayers as we travel today to another country in hopes of getting Ian and extended visa to stay here. Much love!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
Monday, November 9, 2009
Monkey Business
For those of you unacquainted with UNESCO's list of World Heritage Sites, I strongly recommend proceeding with caution as this list may turn into a mild obsession if there is any Indiana Jones/history geek/wanderlust anywhere within you. I'm not sure when Ian and I became aware that many of the things we wanted to see and do in our lifetimes included World Heritage sites, but after visiting a number throughout Europe and and parts of Asia this past year we are hopelessly hooked. Lucky for us, our new locale has a number of relatively close sites (and by relatively, i mean closer than we are to them when in the USA *wink*) that keep us dreaming about what our next weekend adventure might include. This weekend we crossed another site off of our list as we visited some Shaivistic cave temples carved out of the stone side of a mountain thought to date back to the 9th-13th century.
Archaeological sites hold a special place in my heart, and I love art history. Being able to see pieces that I've read about or studied right up close really makes me happy, and sometimes a little giddy or emotional. Luckily this trip was not one of those emotional reactions, but ask me some time about the man who pushed me when i was viewing the Venus di Milo for the first time and I will still have some strong emotions to share.
Amazing pieces have always moved me, and this experience was no exception. The carvings in the caves were extremely complex and ornate. Many of them representing pieces of the human form in a way that portrays movement in exciting non-western ways.
Still, as any truly rewarding experience, there was a journey and price to pay to get there. This began on our boat ride out to the area where the caves are located. We got on a slightly rickety older boat with 30 of our closest strangers and made the hour long ride to our port. Usually I find boat rides very calming, but this ride proved a slight exception.
I believe I have mentioned via some social media within the last week that our forecast for the last two weeks have been "smoke." Not fog, not clouds.... smoke. Not only has that been the forecast, but it has been the extremely accurate forecast. As we pulled away from land and out to the open water I watched the skyline behind us disappear into a haze of smoky smog. On the upside I did see the blue color of the sky for the first time in a number of weeks. The air quality here is terrible and estimated to be the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. Adding to the sad view of our city was the sight of a mother instructing her child to throw the soda bottles and plastic bags overboard into the murky deep. It hurt my heart, because this cultural acceptance of rubbish everywhere adds to one of the biggest problems in the developing world which is the availability of clean drinking water. Each time one of the people on our boat tossed another piece of garbage overboard, all i could do was shake my head and hope that change is in the future.
Our boat finally docked giving us about two hours to climb the small mountain up to the caves and return before the last boat back. We made some tracks and paid a number of random fees to get up the mountain, but the most bothersome part to me was not the huge fees but the monkeys.
Yes, I said monkeys. It's not that I don't like monkeys or think they are cute or fascinating, but it is more that monkeys who have the ability to freely come up to me and invade my personal space freak me out a little bit.
On our trek up the steep stone walkway to see the caves I started to notice just how 'friendly' these little primates here are. The stone walkway we were trekking was covered by blue tarps above us as canopies to keep the hot sun off of the vendors that line the entire route. These athletic critters were using these well placed tarps as monkey sized trampolines. We'd be huffing and puffing our way up the trail when *phoomm!!!!* the tarp above us would slack under the weight of the fuzzy monkey it was receiving from a nearby tree. Then the tarp would recoil sending the monkey flying in another direction, or on less lucky jumps the tarp would give a little too much and you could see a monkey shadow sliding down the side of the tarp to be dumped swiftly into a heap on the ground.
Honestly, this became much funnier on the way down the mountain, as we stopped for a lime soda and watched the multi-level chaos with bouncing monkeys above and bustling shop vendors below, but on the way up I braced myself for a mid-air collision with every loud thump.
I would like to say that this was the only mischief these devious creatures were up to, but as we neared the caves we watched the monkeys chase tourists and steal plastic bags full of lunches! As I told my sister about this yesterday she said "oh.. so kind of like squirrels." Ha! Like squirrels with opposable thumbs, fangs, much better cognitive skills.... and the size of a toddler. So....no... not really like squirrels.
We made our way past most of the monkeys into the cave area, and explored the man-made caverns complete with stone carved columns for structural integrity.
It was an exciting dip into the local cultural history, and I walked away with a lot to think about and hopefully a few good pictures.
Still, the way down from the caves was not devoid of monkey business. There was a group of women in their traditional dresses by the exit gate to the stairway who wait there with cooking pots balanced on their heads trying to get tourists to pay to have their picture taken with them. As I encroached into the crowd of curry-carrying women hoping not to have anyone's dinner end up on my head, the monkeys made their move. Out of nowhere a group of about ten monkeys of all shapes and sizes came charging down the gate and leaping through the maze of pots across the open gateway. I have a very limited native vocabulary, but one word that has been essential in maintaining my composure in difficult situations is that staple "NO" word. As the monkeys charge and the women crowd and my life seems to hover in a slow motion struggle all I can seem to wail is "no! no! no! no!!!" and boosted with a little extra energy by my verbal outburst I successfully snaked and elbowed my way out of the kitchen pot and monkey maze. Which was good because shortly after this became a screaming kitchen pot monkey maze as some other westerners with less elbowing ability got stuck in the middle. Phew! Close one.
With the monkey madness behind me, we headed back to the dock saying hello to some cows who were eating leftovers from the corn on the cob vendors. I spent most of the boat ride back trying to hide from some creepy guy trying to take pictures of me on his cell phone and watching more well-meaning mothers throw their rubbish overboard.
Luckily a tasty plate of spaghetti (served saucy.. which is the best add-on menu choice ever) while pondering the sights of another World Heritage site crossed off the list was my hard earned reward for a day of sight-seeing, litter grimacing, and monkey dodging. But as is often the case, the journey, not the destination, was the true adventure.
B
Archaeological sites hold a special place in my heart, and I love art history. Being able to see pieces that I've read about or studied right up close really makes me happy, and sometimes a little giddy or emotional. Luckily this trip was not one of those emotional reactions, but ask me some time about the man who pushed me when i was viewing the Venus di Milo for the first time and I will still have some strong emotions to share.
Amazing pieces have always moved me, and this experience was no exception. The carvings in the caves were extremely complex and ornate. Many of them representing pieces of the human form in a way that portrays movement in exciting non-western ways.
Still, as any truly rewarding experience, there was a journey and price to pay to get there. This began on our boat ride out to the area where the caves are located. We got on a slightly rickety older boat with 30 of our closest strangers and made the hour long ride to our port. Usually I find boat rides very calming, but this ride proved a slight exception.
I believe I have mentioned via some social media within the last week that our forecast for the last two weeks have been "smoke." Not fog, not clouds.... smoke. Not only has that been the forecast, but it has been the extremely accurate forecast. As we pulled away from land and out to the open water I watched the skyline behind us disappear into a haze of smoky smog. On the upside I did see the blue color of the sky for the first time in a number of weeks. The air quality here is terrible and estimated to be the equivalent of smoking two packs of cigarettes a day. Adding to the sad view of our city was the sight of a mother instructing her child to throw the soda bottles and plastic bags overboard into the murky deep. It hurt my heart, because this cultural acceptance of rubbish everywhere adds to one of the biggest problems in the developing world which is the availability of clean drinking water. Each time one of the people on our boat tossed another piece of garbage overboard, all i could do was shake my head and hope that change is in the future.
Our boat finally docked giving us about two hours to climb the small mountain up to the caves and return before the last boat back. We made some tracks and paid a number of random fees to get up the mountain, but the most bothersome part to me was not the huge fees but the monkeys.
Yes, I said monkeys. It's not that I don't like monkeys or think they are cute or fascinating, but it is more that monkeys who have the ability to freely come up to me and invade my personal space freak me out a little bit.
On our trek up the steep stone walkway to see the caves I started to notice just how 'friendly' these little primates here are. The stone walkway we were trekking was covered by blue tarps above us as canopies to keep the hot sun off of the vendors that line the entire route. These athletic critters were using these well placed tarps as monkey sized trampolines. We'd be huffing and puffing our way up the trail when *phoomm!!!!* the tarp above us would slack under the weight of the fuzzy monkey it was receiving from a nearby tree. Then the tarp would recoil sending the monkey flying in another direction, or on less lucky jumps the tarp would give a little too much and you could see a monkey shadow sliding down the side of the tarp to be dumped swiftly into a heap on the ground.
Honestly, this became much funnier on the way down the mountain, as we stopped for a lime soda and watched the multi-level chaos with bouncing monkeys above and bustling shop vendors below, but on the way up I braced myself for a mid-air collision with every loud thump.I would like to say that this was the only mischief these devious creatures were up to, but as we neared the caves we watched the monkeys chase tourists and steal plastic bags full of lunches! As I told my sister about this yesterday she said "oh.. so kind of like squirrels." Ha! Like squirrels with opposable thumbs, fangs, much better cognitive skills.... and the size of a toddler. So....no... not really like squirrels.
We made our way past most of the monkeys into the cave area, and explored the man-made caverns complete with stone carved columns for structural integrity.
It was an exciting dip into the local cultural history, and I walked away with a lot to think about and hopefully a few good pictures.
Still, the way down from the caves was not devoid of monkey business. There was a group of women in their traditional dresses by the exit gate to the stairway who wait there with cooking pots balanced on their heads trying to get tourists to pay to have their picture taken with them. As I encroached into the crowd of curry-carrying women hoping not to have anyone's dinner end up on my head, the monkeys made their move. Out of nowhere a group of about ten monkeys of all shapes and sizes came charging down the gate and leaping through the maze of pots across the open gateway. I have a very limited native vocabulary, but one word that has been essential in maintaining my composure in difficult situations is that staple "NO" word. As the monkeys charge and the women crowd and my life seems to hover in a slow motion struggle all I can seem to wail is "no! no! no! no!!!" and boosted with a little extra energy by my verbal outburst I successfully snaked and elbowed my way out of the kitchen pot and monkey maze. Which was good because shortly after this became a screaming kitchen pot monkey maze as some other westerners with less elbowing ability got stuck in the middle. Phew! Close one.
With the monkey madness behind me, we headed back to the dock saying hello to some cows who were eating leftovers from the corn on the cob vendors. I spent most of the boat ride back trying to hide from some creepy guy trying to take pictures of me on his cell phone and watching more well-meaning mothers throw their rubbish overboard.
Luckily a tasty plate of spaghetti (served saucy.. which is the best add-on menu choice ever) while pondering the sights of another World Heritage site crossed off the list was my hard earned reward for a day of sight-seeing, litter grimacing, and monkey dodging. But as is often the case, the journey, not the destination, was the true adventure.
B
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Rough start
This week got off to a rough start. We said good-bye to one of of our friends that we knew previously from DC as he headed back to the states, leaving our apartment far too quiet and us feeling a little less comfortable without him here to guide us. It's been a great blessing to have friends that we met in DC show us the ropes around our new digs and help us get adjusted. His wife leaves this week and the whole office and ex-pat groups will miss them a lot!
Besides difficult goodbyes, Monday already had a sort of comic dread looming over it. I've been allergic to something here that makes the skin around my eyes dry and puffy so that I have this sort of bug-eyed iguana look going on in the morning... extremely attractive, I promise. I woke up Monday late due to malfunctioning brain that forgot to set an alarm in the same room I was sleeping. After tending to my iguana eye issue, i got dressed in my half traditional-half western garb and ran out the door on my usual trek past the mounds of garbage, staring men, and wild pigs to my boss's home office. I apparently was earlier than I was supposed to be as she was still getting ready and I was locked out on the second floor stoop shooing the massive crows away. Eventually we got everything in order and were off to the train station on our way to a new possibility of homes to work with.
Generally I am a fan of public transport. I think it is a great idea for saving money, being kinder to nature, and getting from one place to another in a consistent and reliable manner. However, the train system here is a little more stressful than my usual metro commute in DC. My boss Stephanie was kind enough to 'steer' me as we pushed and shoved our way into the women's car... and I am not joking about the pushing. Here's a picture from a car in our area.
On the way out of the train all you need do is stand near the door and let go of whatever you had been using for balance and you will magically get shoved along out of the door by the raging river of humanity streaming out of the car, your only obstacle being the unlucky up-stream swimmers making their way onto the car against the pull of gravity. And the pandemonium doesn't end with popping out of the car. Next is the journey up the stairs when the rest of the trains previous inhabitants join in the fray. It was this ascent to the street above that put the finishing touch on ruining my Monday.. which hardly needs any help to begin with.
We've all experienced a bottle neck somewhere... a baseball game as everyone is leaving, the rush to the front car of a roller coaster, elbowing someone to get the fallen pinata candy at a third grade birthday party (hopefully you were in third grade when this occurred) ... we've all had to fend for ourselves in the writhing mass of humanity at some point. Getting out of our train stations here are one of those experiences at all times. I was given very explicit instructions to put one arm across chest holding on to my bag on the opposite shoulder for the mere sake of guarding myself from unwanted 'grazes'. I'm not kidding. I elbowed my way through the crowd 'graze free' until a moment when the crowd closed in and up the stairs became a shoving match and all of the sudden i realized that though i was guarding for frontal assault, my rear was only separated from the world by the long flaps of my kurta (long cotton tunic type shirt), which proved to be not enough for some especially forward member of the crowd who proceeded to grab my butt. With so many people from all different directions there isn't a way to whirl around and deck someone for being entirely inappropriate and intrusive so my first reaction was to make a fist and separate that appendage from my rear as quickly and forcefully as was possible in the circumstances. I reached the top of the stairs grope-free, but still in shock about what had just happened. My colleagues could read my obvious distress and I told them what happened, but not much can be done when you can't see behind you, and even if you can... it might not be that person anyway trying to get a handful of western bum. I get stared at constantly here, so even getting a drawn out glance from someone in a crowd doesn't really lend any clues to who decided to be gross and mean. Again, my Monday didn't need any more help in being rough, but this sealed the deal.
Luckily a good cup of tea and warm hospitality goes a long way to sooth a soul after a traumatic moment, and visiting the ladies who may be the next addition to our weekly visits was a much needed encouragement. It was fantastic to hear the history of the organization that runs this home, and to hear their plans and dreams and to see how we might play a part in them. Thank God for people who care about women in a culture that often doesn't care past their use as physical objects. And thank God that there are women who are beating the odds to come out of these difficult situations and become beacons to those around them.
I started to pray for the gender gap here, and for the person who was out of line to grab me in the station while I was on my way home. I tried to figure out what I was learning in this situation. It's difficult because as the feeling of violation set in I felt helpless and really upset, but I have also noticed that sometimes the battle is won in the direction of grace.
I thought of the story of Jesus in the crowd when the woman with perpetual bleeding touched the hem of his garment and he stopped and asked "who touched me?" because he felt healing power go out of him, and the woman admits it was her and that she believed that if she merely could touch him she would be healed. Jesus tells her to go in peace because her faith has healed her. I know being groped in a train station is a far cry from a woman being healed after touching the fringe of Jesus' robe, but this story impressed itself on my brain. I'm guessing this will not be the last time in this next year that something inappropriate like this will happen to me, and I have been asking that God really make me an instrument of peace and that peace and love would be tangible to the touch, even the unwanted touch. That when these things happen a holy guilt and shame would enter the hearts of these people and cause them to transform their hearts and transform their culture. I've been asking that my pint sized understanding of feeling violated will give me a bigger heart for those I meet and work with every day who have been violated in much worse ways. Also, that the lies of loss of worth or feelings of dehumanization that come with physical violation would be conquered and that the only thing that would remain would be empowerment through love.
I wanted to leave you with a quote from The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis that a friend set me on the trail of some time ago:
with love
B
Besides difficult goodbyes, Monday already had a sort of comic dread looming over it. I've been allergic to something here that makes the skin around my eyes dry and puffy so that I have this sort of bug-eyed iguana look going on in the morning... extremely attractive, I promise. I woke up Monday late due to malfunctioning brain that forgot to set an alarm in the same room I was sleeping. After tending to my iguana eye issue, i got dressed in my half traditional-half western garb and ran out the door on my usual trek past the mounds of garbage, staring men, and wild pigs to my boss's home office. I apparently was earlier than I was supposed to be as she was still getting ready and I was locked out on the second floor stoop shooing the massive crows away. Eventually we got everything in order and were off to the train station on our way to a new possibility of homes to work with.
Generally I am a fan of public transport. I think it is a great idea for saving money, being kinder to nature, and getting from one place to another in a consistent and reliable manner. However, the train system here is a little more stressful than my usual metro commute in DC. My boss Stephanie was kind enough to 'steer' me as we pushed and shoved our way into the women's car... and I am not joking about the pushing. Here's a picture from a car in our area.
On the way out of the train all you need do is stand near the door and let go of whatever you had been using for balance and you will magically get shoved along out of the door by the raging river of humanity streaming out of the car, your only obstacle being the unlucky up-stream swimmers making their way onto the car against the pull of gravity. And the pandemonium doesn't end with popping out of the car. Next is the journey up the stairs when the rest of the trains previous inhabitants join in the fray. It was this ascent to the street above that put the finishing touch on ruining my Monday.. which hardly needs any help to begin with.We've all experienced a bottle neck somewhere... a baseball game as everyone is leaving, the rush to the front car of a roller coaster, elbowing someone to get the fallen pinata candy at a third grade birthday party (hopefully you were in third grade when this occurred) ... we've all had to fend for ourselves in the writhing mass of humanity at some point. Getting out of our train stations here are one of those experiences at all times. I was given very explicit instructions to put one arm across chest holding on to my bag on the opposite shoulder for the mere sake of guarding myself from unwanted 'grazes'. I'm not kidding. I elbowed my way through the crowd 'graze free' until a moment when the crowd closed in and up the stairs became a shoving match and all of the sudden i realized that though i was guarding for frontal assault, my rear was only separated from the world by the long flaps of my kurta (long cotton tunic type shirt), which proved to be not enough for some especially forward member of the crowd who proceeded to grab my butt. With so many people from all different directions there isn't a way to whirl around and deck someone for being entirely inappropriate and intrusive so my first reaction was to make a fist and separate that appendage from my rear as quickly and forcefully as was possible in the circumstances. I reached the top of the stairs grope-free, but still in shock about what had just happened. My colleagues could read my obvious distress and I told them what happened, but not much can be done when you can't see behind you, and even if you can... it might not be that person anyway trying to get a handful of western bum. I get stared at constantly here, so even getting a drawn out glance from someone in a crowd doesn't really lend any clues to who decided to be gross and mean. Again, my Monday didn't need any more help in being rough, but this sealed the deal.
Luckily a good cup of tea and warm hospitality goes a long way to sooth a soul after a traumatic moment, and visiting the ladies who may be the next addition to our weekly visits was a much needed encouragement. It was fantastic to hear the history of the organization that runs this home, and to hear their plans and dreams and to see how we might play a part in them. Thank God for people who care about women in a culture that often doesn't care past their use as physical objects. And thank God that there are women who are beating the odds to come out of these difficult situations and become beacons to those around them.
I started to pray for the gender gap here, and for the person who was out of line to grab me in the station while I was on my way home. I tried to figure out what I was learning in this situation. It's difficult because as the feeling of violation set in I felt helpless and really upset, but I have also noticed that sometimes the battle is won in the direction of grace.
I thought of the story of Jesus in the crowd when the woman with perpetual bleeding touched the hem of his garment and he stopped and asked "who touched me?" because he felt healing power go out of him, and the woman admits it was her and that she believed that if she merely could touch him she would be healed. Jesus tells her to go in peace because her faith has healed her. I know being groped in a train station is a far cry from a woman being healed after touching the fringe of Jesus' robe, but this story impressed itself on my brain. I'm guessing this will not be the last time in this next year that something inappropriate like this will happen to me, and I have been asking that God really make me an instrument of peace and that peace and love would be tangible to the touch, even the unwanted touch. That when these things happen a holy guilt and shame would enter the hearts of these people and cause them to transform their hearts and transform their culture. I've been asking that my pint sized understanding of feeling violated will give me a bigger heart for those I meet and work with every day who have been violated in much worse ways. Also, that the lies of loss of worth or feelings of dehumanization that come with physical violation would be conquered and that the only thing that would remain would be empowerment through love.
I wanted to leave you with a quote from The Weight of Glory by C.S. Lewis that a friend set me on the trail of some time ago:
There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations--these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit--immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of the kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously--no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinners--no mere tolerance, or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses. If he is your Christian neighbour, he is holy in almost the same way, for in him also Christ vere latitat, the glorifier and the glorified, Glory Himself, is truly hidden.Please pray for the treatment of those born into oppression and vulnerability, and that the work we are doing will contribute to the effort for positive cultural change.
with love
B
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
Shout Out!
Wanted to give a quick shout out to some awesome 5th & 6th graders from Covenant Christian School. We just got your letters today and can't wait to respond to you! Thank you all for your prayers and your encouragement :)
B
B
Monday, October 19, 2009
Quiet Week
You haven't heard from us in about a week and I promise there is a reason for that. Sadly it isn't what we would consider a good reason, but truly a viable reason. In short, our brief blog absence has been due to our first bout of food poisoning that took the wind out of Ian's sails for a few days and knocked me out pretty good for most of the week. I got back into the game and on the horse, but wasn't eating regularly until yesterday! Yikes! It seems a bad batch of hummus did us both in, and from what we hear, this probably won't be our last brush with that nasty little bug.
Our hummus consumption was just part of last weeks goings-on, as the holiday season has been in full tilt this week. twinkle lights and plenty of fireworks have punctuated our early evenings. We got the chance to do a little bit of necessity shopping at one of the nicer malls in the area. Generally a mall is something that reminds us of the hustle and bustle of the Western Christmas shopping season, and people pushing to get into sales after Thanksgiving... and while that season is still in the near future for our families on the other side of the globe, shopping season for the native holidays was very much upon us here. This looked a little different, however from our idea of holiday tinsel and reindeer.
First, part of the confusion happened in that this holiday is one that neither of us celebrated growing up, so we wandered in upon its' festivities without realizing what was going on. But also, the reason that a person goes to a mall during the holiday season here can be very different than the reason for going back in our home country. After discussing the massive amount of people in the mall with some of our friends here, we were informed that may people come to the mall during the holiday purely to see the spectacle of the lights and music and special exhibits and spend time in a place that they would never otherwise visit. Once this was pointed out, I started to notice a number of things that would have otherwise probably passed my notice. For instance, there was a line for the escalator... not because there were so many people, but because a number of sweet women dressed in their holiday best were completely mystified and almost terrified by the prospect of stepping on to this strange mechanical staircase. From what I understand, many of these women do not wander away from their neighborhood regularly. Often they keep house, plan for meals, and do the family grocery shopping within a very small radius of their home. Their husbands or or sons may be used to high-rises and the tricky escalator, but these are very unusual things for many of these ladies and they wander around the corridors wide-eyed, and often in a slightly confused daze clogging up the escalators until getting up the courage to take the leap of faith.
We did get the chance to see a movie in the mall, which was a nice break from all of the 'new and different' that constantly bombards us. Although entering and viewing a cinematic feature seems like something pretty straight forward, we still had some surprises. After going through a rigorous security check and getting our tub of popcorn and cup of cherry coke, we headed up the stadium seating to our pre-assigned seats. Looking for a specific row in a movie theater was already odd, but as we are climbing we realized that we were the only ones moving and everyone else has stopped dead in their tracks, stood, and are facing the screen silently. I honestly had a moment of "we've wandered into body-snatcher territory!! oh no!!" when i realized that it seemed to be a highly produced version of the national anthem complete with glittering animated flag waving in the digital breeze on the screen. Oops. My bad. We quickly joined the body snatched masses for the rest of the song and then plopped into our seats. We made it about halfway through the film fully suspended in American media export when suddenly the film stopped mid-wedding scene. What!? We came to find out that they have intermissions here.. about a 15 minute break to let you get some tomato flavored popcorn, and to watch a number of commercials about how cool various carbonated beverages will make you. Sadly our intermission may have cut out some of the dialogue of the wedding scene (probably mostly the "i do" part.. goodness!), but the rest of the film went on without a hitch except for us waiting with new paranoia at what other cultural faux pas we may end up committing during possible post-movie rituals. Luckily the end of the movie was the usual leaving a mess behind and seeking the exit... most of which we could handle.
We went on to make some poor food decisions that left us home-bound the beginning of the next week. Fun fun. nothing like a bout of twisted tummys to round out a good holiday season!
Happy Holidays!
B
Our hummus consumption was just part of last weeks goings-on, as the holiday season has been in full tilt this week. twinkle lights and plenty of fireworks have punctuated our early evenings. We got the chance to do a little bit of necessity shopping at one of the nicer malls in the area. Generally a mall is something that reminds us of the hustle and bustle of the Western Christmas shopping season, and people pushing to get into sales after Thanksgiving... and while that season is still in the near future for our families on the other side of the globe, shopping season for the native holidays was very much upon us here. This looked a little different, however from our idea of holiday tinsel and reindeer.
First, part of the confusion happened in that this holiday is one that neither of us celebrated growing up, so we wandered in upon its' festivities without realizing what was going on. But also, the reason that a person goes to a mall during the holiday season here can be very different than the reason for going back in our home country. After discussing the massive amount of people in the mall with some of our friends here, we were informed that may people come to the mall during the holiday purely to see the spectacle of the lights and music and special exhibits and spend time in a place that they would never otherwise visit. Once this was pointed out, I started to notice a number of things that would have otherwise probably passed my notice. For instance, there was a line for the escalator... not because there were so many people, but because a number of sweet women dressed in their holiday best were completely mystified and almost terrified by the prospect of stepping on to this strange mechanical staircase. From what I understand, many of these women do not wander away from their neighborhood regularly. Often they keep house, plan for meals, and do the family grocery shopping within a very small radius of their home. Their husbands or or sons may be used to high-rises and the tricky escalator, but these are very unusual things for many of these ladies and they wander around the corridors wide-eyed, and often in a slightly confused daze clogging up the escalators until getting up the courage to take the leap of faith.
We did get the chance to see a movie in the mall, which was a nice break from all of the 'new and different' that constantly bombards us. Although entering and viewing a cinematic feature seems like something pretty straight forward, we still had some surprises. After going through a rigorous security check and getting our tub of popcorn and cup of cherry coke, we headed up the stadium seating to our pre-assigned seats. Looking for a specific row in a movie theater was already odd, but as we are climbing we realized that we were the only ones moving and everyone else has stopped dead in their tracks, stood, and are facing the screen silently. I honestly had a moment of "we've wandered into body-snatcher territory!! oh no!!" when i realized that it seemed to be a highly produced version of the national anthem complete with glittering animated flag waving in the digital breeze on the screen. Oops. My bad. We quickly joined the body snatched masses for the rest of the song and then plopped into our seats. We made it about halfway through the film fully suspended in American media export when suddenly the film stopped mid-wedding scene. What!? We came to find out that they have intermissions here.. about a 15 minute break to let you get some tomato flavored popcorn, and to watch a number of commercials about how cool various carbonated beverages will make you. Sadly our intermission may have cut out some of the dialogue of the wedding scene (probably mostly the "i do" part.. goodness!), but the rest of the film went on without a hitch except for us waiting with new paranoia at what other cultural faux pas we may end up committing during possible post-movie rituals. Luckily the end of the movie was the usual leaving a mess behind and seeking the exit... most of which we could handle.
We went on to make some poor food decisions that left us home-bound the beginning of the next week. Fun fun. nothing like a bout of twisted tummys to round out a good holiday season!
Happy Holidays!
B
Saturday, October 10, 2009
Ride of our life
I have been thinking about the past a lot lately. Not because I am particularly nostalgic, but because my life keeps flashing before my eyes. This enlightening experience has been given to me by multiple auto-rickshaw drivers, but in particular this previous Saturday night's ride. Bekah and I had spent the day at a mall by ourselves (and we didn't even get lost, yay!) and decided it was time to head home. So we do the natural thing and hail an auto-rick.
(If you look in the little rear view mirror you can see us :) )
If you don't know what I am talking about see the photo below, but basically these things are a three wheel golf cart frame with a motorcycle 2-stroke engine in them. This allows them to go about 35 mph (though more if going downhill). It is fun and exciting to ride in them, sliding around the vinyl seat, feeling every bump on not such great roads, and hanging on for dear life. This last thing, hanging on for dear life, was what happened Saturday. We get in and our driver nearly hits a person getting in another rick and then laughs about it as we pull away (and the large gentleman who he nearly hit is saying not nice things in another language). And away we go.
Reflecting on it, I think this man thought he was driving a motorcycle. On numerous occasions he saw an opportunity to fit his nose in between two cars and then just wedge his way through (did I mention we are going over 30mph in an open vehicle with 7 lanes of traffic in an area marked for 3?). Needless to say Bekah was worked up. She handled it great though, barely squeezing my finger and not yelling at all. But we successfully made it through every time and I would laugh afterward because I was grateful for the time that the Lord has decided to give and to extend that time. People told us before we came that we were going to almost die here, but I didn't really realize it will probably be happening on a regular basis until tonight.
Much love- Ian
(If you look in the little rear view mirror you can see us :) )
If you don't know what I am talking about see the photo below, but basically these things are a three wheel golf cart frame with a motorcycle 2-stroke engine in them. This allows them to go about 35 mph (though more if going downhill). It is fun and exciting to ride in them, sliding around the vinyl seat, feeling every bump on not such great roads, and hanging on for dear life. This last thing, hanging on for dear life, was what happened Saturday. We get in and our driver nearly hits a person getting in another rick and then laughs about it as we pull away (and the large gentleman who he nearly hit is saying not nice things in another language). And away we go.
Reflecting on it, I think this man thought he was driving a motorcycle. On numerous occasions he saw an opportunity to fit his nose in between two cars and then just wedge his way through (did I mention we are going over 30mph in an open vehicle with 7 lanes of traffic in an area marked for 3?). Needless to say Bekah was worked up. She handled it great though, barely squeezing my finger and not yelling at all. But we successfully made it through every time and I would laugh afterward because I was grateful for the time that the Lord has decided to give and to extend that time. People told us before we came that we were going to almost die here, but I didn't really realize it will probably be happening on a regular basis until tonight.
Much love- Ian
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Tail end of monsoon
We thought the monsoon season was over, but it seems that mother nature played a little trick on us this week. We spent the first half wading through the mud puddle that is the car lot around our building. I thought you might enjoy Ian's monsoon style... we waded through the water to get some fruit, and even though we got drenched the pineapple was worth it!
I know this one is blurry... but you can still see his pegged jeans, which is the part that killed me :) Function over form is the reality when it comes to serious rain.B
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