Independence Day Dandy

Animals pull carts, and are often decorated with ribbons and bells. (This animal was especially decorated for Independence Day.) These "work horses" are appreciated and well cared for. They are an important part of many peoples every day life. Push carts, carts pulled by animals, bikes, motorcycles, cars, and trucks share major streets and back roads a like (and they never seem to run into each other). This man and his cart are on the narrow back road just outside our apartment complex..

Local Church Service

 We attended an early evening English language Christian church service today.  (One of three Christian churches of various denominations  in this area.) Whitefield Lourdes of Lady Catholic Church is housed in an old concrete church building painted a salmon color. The windows were cranked open,  and from the outside the church looked very much like churches I have seen in Jamaica. A concrete building across the dirt courtyard had signs pointing to the men's and women's toilets.

We made our way inside and were amazed at how long the space was, and how high the ceiling were. The ceiling appeared to be like that of an airplane hangar. A small group of people sat in the front of the church practing the evening  songs. The alter was beautiful with fragrant flowers sitting in front of it.

A large portrait of Jesus the Christ graced the back wall behind the alter. Lights with large round bulbs, surrounded the portrait of Jesus as well as  the arch of the large stage.  These lights also went  up either side and across the top of the arch where the alter with its large candles and Bible sat.. I noticed the candles were a bright  gold color, not the traditional white candles I had seen in American Catholic churches.

When the lights turned on the alter lit up like a pagent. It go everyone's attention. We had arrived a few minutes early and only a handful of people were scattered throughout the church; but by the time the service started, every pew was full.

Flowers

Looking over our walled apartment complex , the undeveloped property is wild, and lush. It  reminds me of 50 year old family photos showing undeveloped Stuart, and Jupiter, Florida.  I half expected to see a pond with alligators slithering in and out (there are no alligators any where around here; just snakes).

I find myself wondering how long this wilderness will last. India is growing at a fast pace. Up and down our back road apartment buildings are going up at an incredible pace. I have no doubt that if we returned in a year and a little bit, this entire road would be filled with other private apartment complexes scattered between the couple hundred year old gated British mansions and open wild spaces.

Colorful flowering bushes, and trees sprinkle the landscape in and outside of our complex.

Our apartment complex has artistically landscaped the entire interior of the complex. It looks like a painters canvas. This oasis takes a lot of maintenance. Every day men are crouched in the shrubs clipping and shaping the fast growing follage.




  

Surprises

 This modern apartment complex is designed in a large square with underground parking and a wide drive on all four sides.  We take daily walks around the complex early in the morning. Some days we are accompanied by other residents who are getting their fresh air before they start their day. I noted they stayed fairly close to the building as they briskly walked. Now I know why.

Yesterday I was warned to keep all of us away from the back side pile of rocks next the electrical plant, as snakes have been seen in that area..

At each corner of the complex is a security guard house with  a man on guard all the time. The front gate has 3 men on guard 24/7. The sit at a high, small round table in front of the wooden gates to check in workers and jot down visitors names and vehicle license plates. They recognize all the residents. Heavy double wooden doors are swung open by hand to allow vehicles to enter. Among them are fairly large trucks as water is trucked in and garbage is trucked out; where the garbage goes - I have no idea....

Our apartment overlooks the entry gate. We witnesses constant activity below as well as watch the traffic outside the wall in the road. . The view from our 4th floor overlooks an old mansion, as well as modern buildings in the distance. The balcony is about 12 feet long and about 4-5 feet wide with an uncomfortably low railing. Neither my husband or I like to  spend time on either balcony as they just don't  feel safe.

A single glass panel door opens from the living room as well as off the master bedroom.onto these porches. (We keep the curtains closed on the doors in an effort to prevent our son from being curious and wanting to go out there. Needless to say he is under our watch all the time; it is very tiring.)


This photo is the view from our front balcony.
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At least the annoying mosquitos are few and far between on the 4th floor. The first and 2nd floor are infested with them the past 24 hours due to rain.

Another School Option

We visited yet another kindergarten today.

 The director is professional, understanding and patient. She has traveled a great deal, including in the USA. The students range from Indians to Westerners; the property is pristine, with 2 classrooms which are set up in a lovely old home. I have of concern that while the property is fenced, the front gate, while closed, in not locked.

The clock is ticking. Our son needs to be in school. I need to be working on our magazine. Ah, decisions. I now know I am in India. Different world. Different ways of doing things.....

Another note:

This school is located about 5-6 miles away and the traffic is challenging. We would have to borrow a car daily, and or rent a cab to and fro (little guy can not travel in it alone). This small school has a "school bus." It is a small vehicle and 4 other children from our complex go to their school this way. Michael  has never been on any school bus and where, and I don't think this is the time and place to begin. 

What would you do?

FYI: I can only post one  photo for each blog. It is difficult to select just one... so I Will post more photos on Linda Sonnett Carlson at Face book begining later this weekend. 

Search for schools

I had contacted a number of kindergartens before we came to India. All said, "No problem, come and see us when you arrive. Registration will be no problem." Wrong. The past few days have been spent contacting  the schools we had chosen based on my lengthy phone conversations, and every one was full of surprises. .

1. Neev School insisted that we pay 500 Rupees to "get an appointment to talk to the director," and then there was no guarantee that our son would have a placement in their kindergarten!  "I can not tell you anything - and without 500 Rupees  I can not make an appointment with the director (at their convenience)," sniffed the receptionist.  I protested that I had called months ago and wasn't told any of this. She ignored me. We got up, thanked her for her time, and left.

2. Greenwood International School, with its' lovely new lower primary kindergarten building, grounds, kind head master, and small classes, is part of  a system where children can continue  through their highly esteemed high school  If we were living here for the next few years and beyond, the immediate one time fee of 50,000 Rupees registration  fee (about $1500.00 US) might be considered. On top of that , there was a reasonable monthly fee. But, after talking to them on the phone today, I found out there are additional monthly fees for lunch, and other fees for class materials. Ouch.

3. The renown Deen School is down the road from our apartment complex. Lovely brick buildings are nestled within a fenced area protected by a guard at the gate. Uniformed children from well to do families are not pampered but expected to take their studies seriously. The day I visited the school, I saw a group of young children wearing bike helmets as they  learned to skate. The receptionist rejected my request to make an appointment with the principal insisting that there was only one 1st grade position open, kindergarten was closed, and there was a years waiting list for registration. "Didn't I know?' (No, I didn't.)

I sent a cryptic email to the principal. She responded today. We meet Monday morning at 8:30.

Bevy of Beauties

I don't know how they do it. I observe women of all ages and stages dressed in their colorful  sari's and kurtas wearing jewelery, and earings, and cute open sandals whether they are part of the workers in this complex or women who have their children at the small play grounds. Then there is me. Not that I don't already stick out with being 5'9 and blonde;  I am wearing  American comfort clothes - and my Crocs. I don't even have earings on let alone a necklace and I am developing swollen eyes and a red face from the heat.

These ladies smile at me but I know am a fish out of water. My dressier clothes include a dress or two along with a light weight business jacket for that special occasion should it arise. The women in the Indian culture are always looking like a special occasion. For the most part, their hair is stylishly pulled back, in a braid or up.

 My mother-in-law kindly asked me if I don't like earings (and or jewelery). I do. Somehow I manage to lose one in my everyday work a world. I wonder how these Indian ladies do it? Maybe I should go and get a kurta or two. At the very least I should be a whole lot cooler outside.I'll let you know how it goes. Photos forth with.

Wash room woman

I can not get used to some of the ways of the Indian culture. Along with Krishna, there is a lovely, quiet lady who comes in - every day - around 11:00 AM  to clean the bathrooms! That is all she does. Once again, with the apartment, comes this wash room lady. We can't fire her. She would be offended if I tell her not to come in, and her boss would believe I felt she does not clean like I would like. So He might fire her!

 Anyone who knows me knows I have my own way of cleaning the bathroom; and she doesn't clean the bathroom like I do. After all, I grew up with Finnish ideas of cleanliness, (which includes having a special old tooth brush for the bath room.) Needless to say, I confess, I too clean these bathrooms...my way.

Along that line, it is becoming a challenge for our little guy not to protest cleaning the bathroom after he takes his sorta, "pail" shower, because the "little lady" comes in each morning to do it. I just told him that is one of her jobs, but that we clean up after our own mess.

Now if only Krishna would allow our son to help him maike his bed -so far he stands firm, and though smiling the all the while, lets it be known that it is His job to do so . (So I "accidently" spilled some of our little guys toys on the floor and had him clean them up while Krishna made his bed.)

Wash Day

It was bound to happen sooner or later; I knew this day would come. Wash day. I just thought I could go at least a week or more before I had to wash clothes. We have a washer. It's a Maytag and took me an hour to figure it out. Well, truth be told, I never did figure it out.

Krishna, our house guy (I can not bring myself to say boy) showed me how it worked as he dumped the laundry in it over my protests.  (Renting an apartment  it seems, brings people with it! Krishna makes us coffee in the morning, and comes with lunch in Tiffins (stacked like Tupperware but metal), and generally also dinner. The first couple of days I was so exhausted I thought he was just being nice; then I founds out that's his job!)

Krishna takes care of us and is a sweetheart. He also insists he is to do the laundry. So I snuck in a load this morning and took it out to the scary porch to hang it over the drying rack. He kinda looked weird at me today when he went out on the porch to shake a rug. I just grinned. Not knowing his language worked to my advantage today.

I know it not politically correct. I know it takes up Earth's resources. I know most countries of the world do not use clothes dryers, but - I  miss my clothes dryer. Schrunchy towels and scratchy underwear in hot weather is just so annoying.

Airport to Apartment: a trip in itself

I expected heavy traffic, etc..  I wasn't surprised. at the  at the  contrast of the  wealthy and poor businesses and houses along the streets, or  traffic jams similar to  Latin American cities I have visited.  However, I was surprised at the amount of  car horn beeping that constantly goes on .It was almost as annoying to me as those incessant horns that never let up during the World Soccer games. (Last night the news said some cities in India, including Bangalore,  are looking into limiting this after 10:00 pm)

I think some drivers use their horn in lieu of using their brakes. That, and it is like demolition derby time. Cars rush in from all angles into an intersection (or to make a turn), horns beeping away; yet. I never saw one accident with another car, truck or person in their way; everyone seemed to simply ignore the traffic around them.

"There's a natural flow to driving around here," my brother-in-law calmly said, as I told him I thought he was courageous to drive here, right hand drive and all.

"It's not  that much different than when I drove in Wyoming or Conn.," he mused.

"You'll get used to it and be driving here in no time."

I laughed, thinking about how the traffic in Puerto Rico made me vow I would never drive in stuff like this. I hope I brought a pair of really good walking shoes.

(Apartment was about an hour away  from the airport and cost aprox. $40.00 U.S., which is about 1600 Rupees; a large sum for the Indian people. One Dollar is equals about 46.77 Rupees)

Westerner, meet the Indian kitchen

Having lived in Germany long ago, I expected a small frig and maybe less cabinet space than I was used to. I didn't expect to see a large metal tank sticking out from under the cabinet area near the 4 top burner plate. It was something I expected to see at a picnic - outdoors.  "You'll learn how to turn it on and off so you can use the stove," my husband smiled. (Stove? I didn't see any stove.)

"Cook on that? Not in this life time, " I mumbled. "I'll blow up the kitchen and then some!"

By the way, where's the oven?"

My husband shook his head. We don't use ovens in India. I moaned.

"You can always use the microwave," my husband pointed to the small modern, compact, microwave sitting in the corner.

I peered into the cabinets. Lovely white dishes completed the over all very comfortable kitchen:  the dishes sat on newspapers in the cub board; as did the drinking glasses, and the silverware in the drawer. (Later I discovered the bedroom clothes cup boards were also lined with newspaper.) I sighed, thinking I better make a list...

I forgot to mention the beautiful, large (almost 4 ft by 4ft) window in the kitchen It was left wide open to air out the apartment for us. It had no screens. We are on the 4th floor.

I immediately ran from room to room to close All the large open windows. I could have sworn we asked for a second floor?

Mirror and Contrast

The trip was long and tiring from Boulder to Bangalore. From cool days, blue skies and sunshine, we arrived to a tropical lush oasis. Or so I thought.  The first day found us wandering the hot, steamy, sweaty, "hard to catch your breath"  interior pathways of the apartment complex. Lush plants, fragrant flowering bushes, and palm trees who formed welcoming archways, greeted us; but there is always more than meets the eye.

It wouldn't be long before we realized that we would miss little things, and be surprised by the comprises we would need to immediately make. The 14 foot ceilings in the apartment and marble floors were beautiful. The flat screen TV's in the living room and master bedroom were a pleasant surprise. The lack of a bath tub in the bathrooms was an unpleasant surprise...and the propane tank for cooking on the cook top (there was no oven) was something I wanted to avoid all together!  Mirror and Contrast: day to day life was different.

Days of Haze

Within 6 weeks of firming up that my NRI husband would be working for a few months in the high tech industry (for his Colorado based company) in India, I mustered up American ingenuity and packed up the house for storage, made certain all necessary shots for our kindergartner were up to date, and that our beloved family dog was being fostered by a great sitter. Whew!

As we boarded the plane in Denver, days of "pulling things together" left me in a haze. The 18 hour journey from Boulder to Bangalore increased that haze. After being in India for 5 days, I am still exhausted, and fighting the 12 hour time difference (ahead of Boulder, Colorado), .all I want to do is sleep!

This blog is about the journey of an American writer (and publisher of the intercultural on-line CirclesofSeven.com Magazine), and her family's adventure into India's world of mirror and contrast. Please come back and share in the antics of our every day life.

...It all began with our son getting  off the airplane at the Bangalore Airport, looking around and indignantly announcing," This isn't India! Where are all the elephants?"