Curiosonari

When traveling to another country, you must always have a sense of humor and know that things will not be the same. For instance, eating in a food court in a mall and not finding a trashcan anywhere or being forced to buy a food card in order to buy a drink that is a fraction of the cost of the card. On top of that, you have to pay a surcharge for the card. Really? Or perhaps trying to get an ATM card, called an Instant Card, only to find that once you finally get it, it won’t work for a couple of days. What’s so instant about that?

Puchchu and I are in India staying with his parents. To say it’s a special time would be an understatement. I’ve been to India before, but now I see I really hadn’t been to India. In order to properly experience something, you must stay with family or friends and really “live the life”. Staying with my parent-in-laws has been wonderful…I really love them. They have taken me as their daughter and I really feel I am.

India is working hard on improving life, but for someone who grew up in the west, India is a different world. Right next to beautiful homes are people living in tents or structures of wood that look like playing cards leaning on each other. Trash and dust is everywhere and there is a strong smell of smoke in the air. Your nose hairs feel singed by the end of each day. And yet, no one looks unhappy. Have they found something most of us haven’t figured out? I think so. Happiness comes from inside, not from material wealth. So coming here helps adjust one’s perspective on life and what’s important.

I say all of this and yet there is a charm and beauty about India. The people here are beautiful as they smile and laugh or simply look peaceful. The chaos that abounds on the streets has rhyme and reason to it. You just have to understand the rhythm and be able to engage in the same dance.

We are now in Calcutta and I especially love it. It’s not as modernized as Delhi but I seem to feel more at home. Some of the roads are in horrible condition and trying to drive on them leaves you with sore muscles and frazzled nerves, but you really appreciate your destination once you get there.

The sounds of India are honking horns. That’s the mode of communication on the road. Even on the back of most trucks it says “Horn Please”. The honking is not meant in a negative way, just a friendly way of saying “you are in my way and I’m going to go around you in whatever way I can”. It feels like you are taking your life in your hands when on the road, and yet I’ve never seen an accident. Again, you just need to know the dance.

In the US we have a children’s game called Hot Potato. The object of the game is to take a ball or bean bag and throw it in the air for the next person to catch. The person catching it has to throw it up in the air for the next person as fast as they can as if it’s hot.

While staying with my Maa, Papa and Puchchu here in India, I feel like we are playing a new game I affectionately think of as Sweet Potato. As we visit places outsite the house, Puchchu will hold Emma. Then I want to hold Emma and take her. After a minute, Papa takes Emma. And before you know it Maa has then taken her from Papa. But because Maa’s arms will get tired, Puchchu takes her back. After a little bit, Emma goes around in a circle again. The object of this game is to see who can hold Emma the longest before the next person takes her.

Here’s a fun video of Emma dancing.

It was my birthday just a couple days ago and my husband asked me to blog. What can I say about my birthday? I’m getting old. I won’t admit to my age…I don’t even feel my age. Still, time scares me and I don’t want it to slip away.

I actually remember my 2nd birthday. I know that sounds crazy. I don’t remember details, but I do remember sitting in my highchair in the kitchen with my Mother. She was pregnant with my sisters but I don’t remember that. I remember having a little chocolate cupcake and making a mess of it.

I also remember when my Dad came home from work. It was dark outside. I don’t remember anything about him except seeing his legs from his knees down. But I especially remember going into the living room at some point and seeing all my birthday gifts. How did all those gifts get there?? It seemed like magic!

Most people take stock of their lives and I have to say I’m very proud of a few things:

• I bought my first condo all by myself when I was 24 or 25
• I received a US patent for an application I designed and managed
• I traveled to the UK, Europe, Carribean, India, Cambodia, Japan, Singapore and Australia
• I have a family that I’m very close to no matter what the distance
• I married a wonderful man who is so good to me
• I had a baby that I love with all my heart

Who knows what the future holds. I still have alot of hopes and dreams and will, as usual, do what I can to make them come true. Hopefully it’ll involve more kids and traveling to places I haven’t seen..

Bart has been slow to warm up to Emma. I don’t think he knows what to do with her. He’s dropped his toy in her lap but obviously she isn’t going to throw it for him. She doesn’t even scratch him.

But things have started to change. She can talk (baby babble) and has started to reach out for him. When she can, she grabs his hair. So now he comes around her more often and will even give her a few kisses.

The other day I had picked Emma up from daycare (Nanci is a wonderful woman who takes care of Emma) and had put her in her carseat. As usual, Bart checked her out to ensure she was fine. Nanci put her head in the car to give Emma a kiss and Bart sort of lunged for her. I told Nanci Bart probably just wanted to kiss her, so she tried it again. The second time though there was no doubt, Bart was protecting his Emma. He put his front feet on Emma’s chair and started barking unhappily. Amazingly, Emma reached out to Bart and started “talking” to him. I was absolutely dumbfounded by the whole thing!

I’d had a bad cold this past week and I was doing alot of coughing. Luckily Emma didn’t catch anything. One morning she was sitting on my lap and I started coughing. Then she looked up at me and coughed a few times. It was too precious to know she was imitating me.