oops...I have neglected to fulfill a week of daily posts!

I must say I had a fun day shopping on Wednesday. I so rarely get out of the house without one or more small people attached that being out without them is a treat in itself. Of course, P had a few last minute protests...which resulted in me forgetting to bring along the camera to share my adventures...so no pics today.

But what I did realize was that by ordering a few pieces of 'Western clothes' I have began to shift my thoughts foward. Given the appeal that clothing here has for me I would happily continue wearing what I have. But a dear friend of mine has warned me that it might make me too odd to make new friends... The other factor that dawned on me was that it would also make me miss being here...I think I would run the risk of living in the past and not looking forward for the new thing that is happening. I have been consoling myself that it doesn't mean that we won't be back, but that even in coming back it will be different here, and what we do will be different.

...B is away this weekend with the grade 5 and 6 classes...that includes R. After this weekend, we should have two weekends to sort out the house and confirm a price with the movers...or relocation experts... I must admit that the thought of preparation still gives me a bit of the pit-of-the-stomach anxiety. However, we do need to move forward.

The funny thing is that I sold my sewing machine. Truthfully, B sold it for me and when he was negotiating I was annoyed... I was so not ready that I have stalled on giving it to the man who bought it until Wednesday night. The man who bought it is a tailor and he came Wednesday night to take my measurements for a few pieces of clothing I ordered. I bit the bullet and told him he could pick it up the next day. So by Thursday Lunch I knew I had to surrender my sewing machine...I dismantled it and set it by the front door so it would be easy ...and it's gone. It's not the fact that I no longer have my sewing machine. It's the fact that it is the sewing machine that B bought me as a surprise and now it's gone. And it's the fact that it means that life is changing...and I need to be willing to yield to the forces of change or be miserable.

So I am willing myself to be willing...

I am so hoping that when I get my clothes I will really like them and be able to look forward to wearing them...which means leaving here and living in a country where I can wear them. Using a tailor around here is always a risk...sometimes they are fantastic...and sometimes they are annoyingly slow and very disappointing...



The middle photo is of the girls and two honourary uncles...our friend to the left is affectionately called Uncle Loopy and our friend to the right is called by the title Chacha ( father's younger brother.)

Just for consistency, another post this week.

I thought that since I have time today...I'll post. The girls have a late start today. This allows most of the staff to attend a morning meeting from 8:30 to 10:00...some dorm parents need to stay on duty...but that's just the way it is at a boarding school.

Think I'll post some pictures...


Here are two ballerina princesses that danced into our house one day. There is no fun like dress-up fun!!!!


Two little flowers sitting among the rhododendrons.

B in Dharamsala with the the Dalai Lama.

Two big girls browsing in the Bazaar.

Well, it's time to herd the small people in my house towards getting dressed and ready for the day. I need to think of something interesting for tomorrow's blog...ah, I will be shopping today, maybe shopping photos?!

The error of my ways.

Yesterday, I was reflecting on my view of the world around me and how that effects my relationships. B and I meet weekly with another couple, who are getting ready to be married. Our conversations always challenge me to be as real as necessary and listen better than usual. It is exciting to see two people embarking on a journey with no idea where it might take them. For me, the fact that people still get married shows me that we, as a community of human beings, still believe in the unseen. Love, trust, hope, faith, these are all unseen qualities; and yet vital components to making marriage work.

So in my self-examination I saw again the ways that I have been changed. I also saw that I still struggle with embracing a more Stoic view of life rather than a fully Christian one. It is easier for me at times to put my head down and push through difficult times rather than sharing how I feel and revealing my vulterability. Actually, it was B, who observed my stoic tendancies before I was able to define what I was struggling with.

At dictionary.com, you can find several definitions for STOIC. Here is a brief summary of what it means to be a stoic: Stoic –adjective 1. of or pertaining to the school of philosophy founded by Zeno, who taught that people should be free from passion, unmoved by joy or grief, and submit without complaint to unavoidable necessity. There is also an aspect of stoicism that relates to God being ultimately in charge, virtue leading to happiness and general acceptance of all events as destiny.

As I read through the definitions, I could understand why the early Greeks thought that Christians might just be a new kind of Stoics. In fact, today many might look at the Calvinist sector of the Western Church and see a reflection of the stoic worldview. But for me, I know that if I am pushing through life, not allowing myself to be moved by passion and just doing the right thing or the thing that must be done, then I am out-of-step with the kind of life I am called to in Christ.

Whenever I find myself in a stoic frame of mind I often return to this verse:
The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full. - john 10:10

Full life...what a wonderous concept...to be able to experience all the joy and pleasure of this world...to be able to grieve and mourn and weep for all the pain of this world...to be able to sustain hope in the midst of trials, tribulation, and trauma. That would be a FULL LIFE for me.

What would make your life more FULL?

Becoming a Christian...an act of rebellion?!

I spent a good portion of this weekend annoyed...annoyed with the self-righteousness of the people who think that because they have experienced 'altered states of consciousness" due to the use of substances; they have a more valid opinion on the use of and lifestyle involving these things...argh!

In hindsight, I suffer from amazement that I did not use alcohol, tobacco and drugs to alter my mind and widen my experiences. It was all available and not really prohibited. My parents and the adults around me had the attitude that 'sex, drugs and rock n'roll' were all part of the process of growing up. Now, I might have had people espousing a more moral lifestyle but I was intuitive enough to see that they were not living by the standards they were teaching.

So when I entered university, although my family life was checkered and unstable, the part of life that I had control over was successful. I had a boyfriend...popular, good-looking, intelligent, and on the university basketball team. I had a scholarship that was covering my tuition. I was able to achieve honour-roll standing without putting myself out. I had a part-time job that I was thriving in and being paid well .

...sounds like something I could take credit for, eh? But what it led me to was a deep sense of dissatisfaction. If I could set up my life at age 18, 19, so that it was all on a trajectory towards comfort, security and success; then there must be more. If fact, I became so sure that there must be more that I started exploring more...however, that never included substance abuse. Why?

You see, I had the unfortunate experience...maybe not that unfortunate...to be able to see lives that were touched by smoking, drugs and alcohol...they were not successful lives. They were lives that trapped people. Once headed in that direction these lives never turned around. I now know that it is possible to break out of these destructive lifestyles; but at that time in my life I only saw grief-filled devastated lives.

I also noticed people behaving stupidly, and out of control, wasting time, money and energy. People had experiences that didn't seem to make them better human beings; so there were no positive selling features. I was not willing to put myself under the control of a substance or of another person...I knew that I could trust neither to have my best interests at heart.

...somehow, I began having conversations about spiritual life. I wanted to know the whys and hows. Quite honestly, my friends and loved ones who had 'spiritual experiences' through drugs just spewed the same kind of 'new-age crap'. And when I looked at their lives I did not see that the things they talked about...freeing their minds...had any beneficial effect on them. In fact, after the experience they were not changed, nor moved to impact the world around them.

I knew that I wanted to live a life that mattered...in fact, even today I want to be able to be part of something beyond myself. Did it matter if I was happy and made lots of money? That seemed to be the mantra of the world around me...be happy, not too happy...make money, get things, and everything will be fine.

The reason I entered the program I did in university was because it was a subject that I could do and come out with a career that would provide me with money, success and security. I knew then as I know now that I was not passionate about the field...just capable...

Even today, B most often uses that word for me...capable... The challenge is that I know if I am pushing life forward by my own ability then I am not letting God lead. Whenever I step back and see that I have been making decisions on my own; I then know that I need to stop and reconsider my track. In my life, I can unequivocally say that if my life does not need God and the people around me then I have slipped back into my old habits; I am then retuning to the lifestyle that I left behind. The next step is to humble myself, repent and ask forgiveness. And, usually, I need to ask Brian for help to connect me back to my 'now reality'.

You see, the year between my 19th and 20th birthdays I found who I was searching for...I suppose you could say that He found me, but I think that He was probably there all along and I just needed to be able to see Him.

What began and an act of rebellion against the messages of my culture resulted in a deep humbling of my soul before an Almighty and Powerful God? And He didn't make it easy for me. For those of you who know me, you already know that I am not given to spells of emotional breakdown. In fact, I really try not to be overcome by my emotions...but in that first encounter I was, in such a real and unexpected way. I knew that He knew me...not like the people around me knew me, but in a deep and no-holds barred kind of way. And I knew that life could never be the same after that.

I suppose as I draw all this together, my conclusion is that we all experience the angst of forging an identity for ourselves separate from the world around us. But my question to myself continues to be to did I forge that identity by the messages that the world whispered into my ear or by the messages of the Creator who whispers into my heart?

Food, Food, Glorious Food

I was chatting with one of our Dorm Parents here. She was sharing some of the issues that some of her girls have with body image and eating well. It reminded me of the models that have recently died due to complications of anorexia. Then I was reading a post a friend of mine made on her blog the global phenomena of obesity and over-eating.

And all of that has given rise to this stream of consciousness...

I am guessing that this is the first time in the history of the world that some people have access to so much food that they can sustain an unhealthy weight over a long period of time. I remember in the first years being here on the hillside and going running with a group of teachers. I didn't last long...not that I didn't enjoy running, but that I suddenly became aware of the disjoint between me and the people in the surrounding community. The fact that I needed to exercise indicates what a luxurious lifestyle I have compared with the women, who have to walk to fetch water and care for the crops and the men, who walk for miles to sell their vegetables or milk in the town. After I was struck with that thought, I became conscious of the access I had to food, time and technological resources and it has led me into examining how I use these resources.

I never saw food as a luxury. But in the less developed regions of the world the view of an
overweight person demonstrates that most still see excess food as a luxury available to the wealthy and powerful. As we have become more affluent in Western countries we have enjoyed the access to delicacies. And as our lifestyles have become less physically active we have expanded proportionally.

On the other hand, I have never seen food as the enemy...the thing I must control to be in control of my life or to to be in control of my appearance. It is one of the advantages to having an Italian heritage...food is the centre of all celebrations.

As always there are two opposing pitfalls to our relationship with food. One may be more acceptable, but both are equally unhealthy to our physical and mental health. As I have tried to adjust my lifestyle to meet my current health needs I have seen myself wavering on the path. For a time I was disturbed by the changes I needed to make; sometimes I made bad choices, other times I just did not eat because I didn't know what to eat.

And being the information junkie that I am I started reading and researching everything I could. Of course, what I wanted was to find an authoritative voice that would say if you do this, then you will be well. Of course, I did not find that...in fact I even received seemingly contrary direction from the doctors I spoke with.

Now I have had to revisit the teaching that I gave to R. When R was in second grade, she started coming home very, very hungry. I couldn't figure out why she was so hungry... it is a very real possibility to contract worms, ameoba, giardia, which can affect your appetite. As R and I chatted I found out that she was worried about getting fat. Apparently, 'getting fat' had been a topic of discussion in the school dining hall. So R and I debriefed...at the time she was significantly taller than her close friends, who were also known to be picky eaters. We talked about how a taller girl probably needs more fuel than a smaller girl, and how food is the fuel that your body runs on. And now I have had an Ah-ha moment...

So if food is the fuel that my body uses, then I need to know what my body needs to run well. Maybe the issues of being an unhealthy weight is about the view of food we have. None of us put more gasoline or petrol into our vehicles than it can hold...particularly with the current cost of fuel...the tank will just overflow and the fuel will spill out on the ground. And we know that without enough fuel in the vehicle, it will eventually stop running. Some vehicles will run better on a particular fuel; our vehicle uses diesel, anything else will not do.

Now if we apply this idea to us. Food is the fuel that our body runs on. Our body may have special needs and so we need to give it the fuel that it will run well on.

What do you think?

Google for Fun

So I served couscous to some friends and learned there is a local grain called jhungra that is similar in texture and taste...so I thought that I'd try to find out if it is a grain specific to the hills here or if it is a more widely used grain that has another name...

If you want info what do you do?

My first line of attack is google...So I enter jhungra, grain...and come up with about three hits and the suggestion by the gods of google...Did you mean hungry brain?

Of course, B was reading over my shoulder...and we had a good giggle.

It got me thinking that maybe I do have a hungry brain and I need to make sure I feed it good things.

P.S. I just jumped up because I thought I felt something on my leg...as all sensible people do I slapped the general area of sensation...and a dead spider fell out of the bottom of my jeans...yuck!!!! Now I'll have that creepy crawly feeling all day!!!

FYI

Yup, the date stamp on my posts are off...It is now getting to be late Sunday morning here!

Thanks Friends!!!

I just wanted to thank all those who added comments to my last post. It is encouraging to know that you are welcoming us back into your life.

I think I posted on Thursday morning...the time difference doesn't seem to be reflected on the post...I am sure I could fix it...but... Anyway, the night before I had a call from a dear friend who recently settled back in California. She is so sweet and totally honest. So she wanted to share some of the challenges that she has been facing in the past several months as she re-enters American culture. One of the things she said was that it should be different for me because I have a family and we are making the choice to leave. That really struck me...will it be easier for me???

The truth is that although I know without a doubt that it is time to packup and move back, I don't know that I can say that I want to leave the hillside. Last week, in one of the ladies groups that meet in our home the question came up: If money was not an obstacle what event would you plan for your friends/family? Immediately, I thought, "Bring them all here, of course!" I would love the opportunity to share my new home with my old friends. To walk with them through the paths, the hills, the Bazaar, the school...to sit and eat in my home and in my favourite restaurants...to visit the people who have become significant to me...that would be such a joy to me.

I know that there is so much technology to facilitate communication and so I don't have to leave behind many of my friends. But what about all these dear women, who have no access to technology? Some don't really speak English and some don't even have a phone in their house. My mind reminds me that I can continue to pray for them, but my heart says that I will miss their presence in my life.

...pictures...I need to be intentional about taking photos of people...In the end, life is about the relationships we forge. The things I miss about home are relationships...over the years food and comforts have ceased to carry enough weight to sustain a longing for them.

So thanks again...and I will take all of you up on your offer to listen to my stories...and I want to hear the stories that have grown in your life in the time we have been apart.

Thinking about 'THE MOVE'

As the days whittle away...I am beginning to feel the anxiety in the pit of my stomach...

My friend, Rachna, asked me if I was getting ready to move...I laughed and said I am in denial. Since then I have been thinking about what I need to do to prepare. It all seems overwhelming. At this point I am not ready to leave.


It seems like many people have plans for us. Even my househelper has plans. She wants me to go to school, become a teacher and come back to work at the school. I think she doesn't really understand why 'The Sa'ab' wants to go to school again.

The most disconcerting thing for me right now is the 'not knowing'. I really can't say that I know what comes next...and I can't even articulate what I want to happen next. Living here has changed me and I know that I am not who I was, but I also know that I am struggling to find the redefinition of myself.


There are so many things I love about life here. The physical environment is second to none, to be able to stand outside our house and see the expanse of the valley beneath us; to be able to take a short walk and stand in awe of snow capped mountians. And then there is the cultural environment...a culture that operates on the basis of relationship, that views a person more holistically than most, that wants to teach you how to become one of them.


And then the girls...this place on the side of the mountain is more home than anywhere else in the world. They don't yet know what it is to be Canadian...they have grown up, at least partly, in one of the most multiethnic, multicultural, multinational, multireligious environments imaginable...and now they need to prepare to give it all up with us. Being a wife and a mommy I have become so aware that my decisions are not my own. My husband and children will be deeply affested by my choices and so I cannot make a decision as if I exist in a vacuum.


On the other side of this is the knowledge that when we land 'home' there will be familiar faces and the loving homes of friend and family. But that brings the slew of new questions: Will we fit back in? Will our friends and family have time for us? Will we annoy everyone with stories of the life we left? ...and that's only the tip of the issues that whirl in my head.

I try to set the anxieties in balance against the coming blessings...but the coming things, both blessings and challenges, are all unknowns. And it is the unknowns that are the most troubling...

Broccoli,strawberries and shy kids.

I think by now most of my friends know that I am a bit of a stream of consciousness style blogger. So I was visiting a few blogs of friends and thought I'd jot a quick post before life grabs me by the throat and throws me back in the mix.

R is at school. M is baking at a friend's house. A and P are sleeping. B is in his office. Everyone accounted for and so I can breathe.

Broccoli is in season...it is fantastic. The thing is, it is a fairly new veggie here. And generally, everyone says ony foreigners want it. So if it is being grown where there are few foreigners it is cheap, cheap, cheap...but up here...well, let's just say, it's not so cheap. I am so impressed with the ability of the villagers to culivate new crops and then find a market for it. If only they would eat it.

And now...strawberries...again...not too cheap. But I have been serving the girls fresh chopped strawberries, with a wee bit of sugar sprinkled on top and a healthy topping of cream...yum!

But that brings me to shy children. I just read an interesting blog from a mommy of shy children. I must say that my children run the gamut from quite shy to very friendly. I have to agree that a good part of it is personality...no use discipling personality, you'll end up on the wrong side of the child.

However, I have always thought that part of my role as a mom is to help my children overcome their own weaknesses. In a world where you must relate to people to get on, it is helpful to give tools to our children to facilitate that. But, tools need to be given as the need arises or when the need is felt by the child. Giving a hammer to someone who still needs to chop the tree down, and make the lumber isn't the most useful thing. Now, once the lumber is stacked and construction is ready to begin then a hammer and nails will be useful.

My R is more shy than M. The blessing to me has been that shyness has not meant a lack of confidence. She is able to be onstage to sing in the choir and play a duet with her piano teacher. But she is not comfortable in situations where she is in a new place with new people. She needs to work out her place in the new situation and I have to give her the space to do that. We are working out ways that she can find that space without being perceived as rude, but fear is not the root of her shyness.

Interestingly, I was speaking with a high school student recently, who was telling me that their Health class did a mental wellness quiz. He noticed that all the extroverts were more 'well' than the intoverts. I think we can mistake friendly smiles for mental wellbeing and good manners, while deeper issues may lie unchanged and unhealed.

On the other hand, I understand that pride can come into play, particularly with older children. I have heard the excuse, "That's just the way I am." from both children and adults. But I don't think sensitive children actually want hurt anyone's feelings; so as the grown-up I am responsible for understanding that I might be a scary adult and not to be offended.

It's true that eventually we all learn how to cope with the world around us. As a mom I just want ot be able to hand the right tool to my daughter(s) at the right time to make that job easier.

Happy Holi!!

This weekend was Holi, a Hindu festival where some boundaries are pushed and fun is had by all...or most.
The holiday is celebrated by throwing colours, paint and water balloons. Usually, if you want to avoid the colour you just stay home...unaware foreigners make good targets...

There are two stories associated with Holi. One is about a prince, who was a devotee of Vishnu, but whose father was a wicked king. With the help of an evil Auntie, named Holika, the king plotted to kill the prince. Vishnu intervened and saved the prince and the evil Auntie was burned up. So bonfires are lit the night beginning Holi celebrating the triumph of good over evil.

And then the other explains the colour throwing. Krishna, an incarnation of Vishnu, used to tease gopis (shepherdesses) by spraying them with rose water...so people spray each other with colour. Don't worry if you can't find the link...I am not sure there is one.

All week there were ads in a National Newspaper with holiday advice.
For a safe Holi avoid the following:
*Throwing water/coloured water or water balloons at passers-by.
*Forcing unwilling people to play Holi.
*Using indecent language or behaving riotously.
*Eve-teasing.
*Drunken Driving.
*Throwing dirt or chemicals.
*Triple riding on two-wheelers.
*Riding without a helmet.
One of the things that seems to characterize these kinds of celebrations is boundary breaking...a kind of permission is granted to break taboos.

Our experience of the boundary breaking was limited this year to watching revellers. The boys in the top left photo had been smoking and drinking. Fortunately , they were placated by a friendly greeting and posing for a photo. Then we drove out to the hills...after the third barricade manned by rowdy boys demanding money for sweets...we decided to turn back.

Later, I'll post picture of the big girls playing colours with their friends...they were totally covered in colours...like they walked through an explosion at a paint factory. Someone once told me that she thought that Hindu festivals were all made to appeal to children(and the child in us)...lights, colours, dancing and parties. I wonder if we wouldn't do well to learn to celebrate so that everyone wanted to join in the fun!!