Christy's birthday and Old Delhi

We love our Christy!

Happy Birthday to Christy!
We gave her a capo for her ukulele and some very scarce and therefore highly prized cheddar cheese with crackers with a promise to take her shopping for another Indian kurta and leggings. We ate out at a Moghul restaurant with delicious chicken curries and breads. Some foods they cook slowly in clay pots sealed with flatbread dough. I bought a fudgy buttery chocolate birthday cake that is so dark it will probably keep me awake tonight.

This week we went to a Halloween party at the home of an international arms dealer. Captain Rambo Wallace, US State Department, is our young men's president at church and a really nice guy. (His name has been changed...)He hired a dexterous magician and a less skillful caricature sketch artist and spread a variety of Indian and American foods on three tables in his big house on his wide empty street. His family has three floors of a house with big trees, a gate and a guard. An embassy couple lives on the ground floor.  That's where the living is easy!

Traffic is in a snarl this week because India's biggest holiday of the year culminates on October 30th. Diwali is the festival of lights, signifying the victory of good over evil, light over darkness, knowledge over ignorance etc. My online source says Diwali is an official holiday in Fiji; I wonder why. Many shops and a homes hang Diwali lights, so our city looks festive at night. Maybe related: a couple of nights ago our landlords family went out in their most formal blingy saris and suits to celebrate the end of a day of fasting for the women. It was the day women fast for the long lives of their husbands.

We've discovered a Taco bell that delivers.

Bulk pulses, rice and tea.

I felt ridiculously lucky because some members offered to take me to Old Delhi with them to do their monthly food shopping. I thought I'd be getting the inside tour, but we just made a beeline from the Metro to the street with pulses and rice, pushing past people and watching out for dogs on the sidewalk and for every kind of conveyance imaginable in the streets. We even saw a big high cart with two men swinging branches to keep two big bulls pulling. I just don't seem to like noisy crowded cities, although I did see some wondrous interesting things. Don't believe for a minute that the sidewalks were as un-crowded as in the picture. Also note three different common clothing styles of the women on the right. My friends asked if I wanted to go look at the rows of clothing shops but I was already paralyzed and just wanted to get out.

Here's what I really loved! Tree nuts and dates in bag-barrels. Can you see the proprietor?

Later: October 30th. Tonight people all over the city are lighting off "crackers," or "cracka's" as they say it here. The skies have been thundering for over an hour and it just got dark. Word on the street says it will go on all night. Some of the crackers are fireworks but most are industrial sized firecrackers. Diwali is a festival lasting a few days. Yesterday morning the air was so smokey from pollution and crackers that for the first time we couldn't see the Lotus Temple from our window. We all have sore throats. If Pakistan wanted to start bombing Delhi and not get caught for awhile, tonight would be the night. Now we've got Indian drums going in the neighborhood. Festive!
Fun fact: Danny and Christy's school plastered posters all over the school: "Say no to crackers." We're about ready to call in the ACLU, since Danny and Christy are the only cracka's  at Bluebells.

Acknowledging the Lord's hand

From the beginning of our "next sabbatical quest," Scott felt guided to come to India and we've been blessed by the Lord throughout this whole India endeavor. On this page I will write about a few things that make us truly thankful.

Scott went to India a few weeks ahead of the rest of us, then he came back to the Oregon Coast for a Bradford family reunion. Then we all flew from Portland to Delhi, via Amsterdam. In Oregon, he developed a high fever (without congestion or sore throat) and terrific pain all over his body, especially in his joints. He was very sick for 4 days, hardly eating or getting out of bed. We diagnosed him with dengue fever, a common mosquito-born virus that was afflicting Delhi-ites in August, but we never did a blood test. Now we know that chikungunya fever is also a possibility; it has similar symptoms. Dengue fever is far more dangerous because if you get it twice your chances of bleeding to death internally go way up. You can only get chikungunya once. (Scott says he wants to have his blood tested when we get back to the States.) Scott still has pain roving through his joints, but he's a trooper, and otherwise very healthy. Here's what I want to give thanks for: that the illness struck while we were together and in the US, where mentally, I knew we had access to good familiar medical care; that we were staying right on the beach in a well-ventilated room with plenty of clean water; that we were supported and distracted by the Bradford clan; that many Bradfords fasted and prayed for Scott's recovery in time for our flight to India; that Steve Bradford gave Scott a Priesthood blessing of healing and comfort that was realized; that Scott's fever broke on Fast Sunday and we were able to travel on Monday morning.

There are some little things. Danny has access to a piano at school twice a week and he is our LDS branch sacrament meeting accompanist, so he's fairly motivated to practice. Fulbright-Nehru reimbursed our hefty Bluebells tuition, even though we learned that Bluebells had not officially enrolled our kids but recorded our payment as a donation. Bluebells is letting D and C ride the bus to school as guests, which was a huge relief those first few weeks. Christy is most grateful for the friends she's made at Bluebells; she was worried about being socially isolated. Danny is most thankful that McDonalds delivers. From the Mission Home we got the referral for the woman I hired to help me set up my Indian kitchen and teach me how to cook several things. We have a wonderful family renting our house who has been alert and gracious about an outside pipe bursting.

Stepping into church our first Sunday here was such a relief. The building is air conditioned; it's so much easier to feel the Spirit when you're comfortable. :) The hymns were familiar. The branch members were friendly and I got my favorite church calling: primary music teacher. Church still feels like a haven from the noise and bustle of the city. By the way, the congregational singing doesn't sound great here, especially in Relief Society. It's kind of funny. The women and men who lead the branch have a good understanding of the  doctrine and strong testimonies. I've been very impressed. The meetings are in English but some talks and  many comments are given in Hindi. We've done some socializing with members. I love going to Church.

Finally, I have found an occupation!  I've become friends with a family of Afghan refugees that live near me. The father and some of  his extended family converted to Christianity in Afghanistan, where they had to hide out in their house and rely on brave and generous neighbors to bring them food after the word got out. As I understand it, the grandmother had to go to the hospital and was shot en route. The man's brother also got killed and this family, comprised of the grandfather, the two parents and five children got on a plane and landed here. That was in 2007. India is not a signatory to the United Nations refugee laws, but the UN has a refugee office here and there are some NGOs. For reasons that remain unclear, the family has no Documents, and their children, ages 6-14, have not attended school regularly in several years. Think of it! Five children, spotty school and no books, very little money and no legal jobs.

I connected with the Mom, who is gentle, hopeful, indefatigable, from our first meeting. Maybe it's because we're both strangers here. My happy occupation, which is very useful and not at all draining, is to walk to their tiny apartment (it's down a tiny alley and then down an even tinier alley) four mornings a week and teach them English for a few hours. Every morning when I walk in, the children, who are standing around a low table say in chorus: "Good morning, Sister." The mom and the oldest daughter are my most diligent students, but all the kids are enthusiastic and cooperative. The oldest daughter has excellent English.  She wants to be an ophthalmologist. I bought English workbooks and reading books with a donation from a friend at home who told me to "find someone who needs it in India." As we work, I realize that they need to learn math and science too, and really, their situation is intolerable, even though they have a happy home as far as I can see, and they're all grateful. About once a week they serve me lunch. Last week it was savory rice with raisins and delicious red beans with a raw tomato and onion salad. We have a deal that they'll pick up a sheet of their favorite Afghan bread for me twice a week. The two little girls like to sing the "Let it Go" song like shy Broadway stars. Yesterday I picked up some math workbooks, but my curriculum is helter skelter and my time here is limited. I've begun research in earnest on options for improving their situation. It will be very  hard to leave them here in their current state. I wonder if the Lord led us to India or to this particular neighborhood to help this family. I know He loves them and they have been praying for a long time for relief from their problems. Whatever the reasons, our coming has opened our eyes and changed our lives forever and we feel God with us every day.

Flattering photos

Here's a couple of sweet photos. We're making India look good!

Fish tacos and curry. Yum!

This auto (tuktuk) is rare because it has curtains and beads at no extra cost. Not to mention the handsome driver.

I saw it on the streets of Delhi

I need to go live in New York City for a month so I can determine what is unique to India and what is just part of being in a big city. I've been thinking about what I see at the side of the roads here. In Provo I could actually drive for several minutes and possibly not see a human being outside, except other drivers. Here the streets are teaming with life. I've seen women sitting near stacks of terra cotta pots, barbers shaving customers, dogs sleeping or scrounging, cows resting or trotting along in traffic, people cooking over fires and sleeping, everywhere colorful fruit stands and peddlers pushing carts of coconuts or papayas or vegetables, men coming out of what appear to be public showers, dressed and rubbing their hair with towels; tea and ice cream and popcorn and roasted nut vendors, people ladling milky brown tea and fixing flat tires, people selling flowers or flower petals, people going into the temples to ring a bell and pray, bikers hauling trailers with huge loads of piled up boxes or flattened boxes for recycling. People walking and shouting, rickshaw and auto drivers looking for fares. I was traumatized by one terrible street fight we saw from a cab.
Two roadside visions are sticking in my head today. Yesterday I was riding along near the American embassy and saw a sari-clad woman kneeling in the gutter pulling weeds. (Even the female street sweepers and city clean-up crews look beautifully dressed to me.) Near the woman a 6ish-year old boy was holding a plump looking baby and another tot was nearby. I drove by in a flash, but I imagined that this woman was working and tending to her children all at once by the side of the road. I thought what a challenge it would be to do what that woman was doing every day, then of how some young mothers I know in the US have such different challenges of loneliness or boredom or depression.
The second vision still fills me with astonishment. Again from a cab, we saw scores of long tour buses parked at the side of the highway. They were piled on top with bags and blankets. Men walked on top of the buses rummaging. Our cab driver told us they were Buddhists on pilgrimage, but I couldn't find anything about it online the next day. Suddenly we noticed that the "pilgrims" were sleeping on blankets by the buses, on the ground right along the side of the road. They slept with their heads nearest the road, some between the buses and the road. It felt like traffic was whizzing passed just a few feet from their heads. How could they possibly sleep in such a vulnerable position? Why on earth would they assume that cars would only drive on the proper road and not go barreling onto the shoulder to get around jams? It still agitates me.

Bluebells Annual Day

Students from Bluebells dance at Annual Day

Imagine a song and dance variety show and a school musical and awards night and local dignitaries making speeches all combined into one 4 1/2 hour celebration and that sums up Annual Day at Bluebells. It was for grades 5-12 in a big rented auditorium. The play was very well done in Bollywood style, extolling the virtues of a united, peaceful India where Hindus and Muslims and Pakistanis all get along. Danny played keyboards in an "orchestra" consisting of drums, electric guitars, flutes and violins. They rocked the house with Soul Sacrifice by Santana. Christy sang MJ's Man in the Mirror with the Western Vocal group. We entered the auditorium through lines of crisp school-uniformed first graders waving golden pompoms. They all cried out "Good evening, Ma'me. Good evening, Sir", as we passed. Adorable.

High Tea and the Indian Music and Dance Festival

Today is Ghandi's birthday.

Flower petal art at the theater!

Here's another word from Scott's app that teaches him one English word per day:
"Sorbet. This sorbet of fruits is excellent."
Other words last week were "strategem", "countertenor" and "nudist."

Last Friday  Scott's office hosted us and other visiting scholars for High Tea. My mouth watered in anticipation of an English scone with whipped cream and jam. We arrived to find a buffet of Indian snack foods instead. The food was tasty and it was fun to try a variety of deep fried snacks that we see on the street but don't eat for fear of getting Delhi belly. The chutneys were savory. It was a tasty spread and we met another American couple that we might get together with over dinner sometime.
From Scott's office we walked to a theater to see a dance troupe as part of an Indian festival of dance and music. The dancers were elaborately costumed and wondrously talented. Christy  put a bit of video on facebook. We also saw a bit of a puppet show and India's most celebrated flutist playing very trippy timeless tones. (Imagine a jam session for flute and Indian drum with an electronic drone throughout.) Scott quipped that George Harrison of the Beatles would have loved it. The performance got livelier and the flutist really was amazingly talented and expressive.

The drummer and center flutist had extraordinary talent.

I'm inserting this low quality photo which shows a cow, green and yellow auto-rickshaws, commonly called "auto" and sometimes called "tuktuk." In the rear you can see bicycle rickshaws lined up. There are also Uber and Ola cabs, and regular taxis, the occasional horse or mule, and our favorite, E-rickshaws, which are electric 4-seaters that shuttle around in the neighborhoods of the metro/subway stations. The metro is cheap, air conditioned and clean enough. The first car of every train is reserved for women only, but women can opt to ride in any car. We came home from the theater on the metro, then got on an e-rickshaw for a 5 minute ride back to our neighborhood market then walked about 3 minutes to our flat. Easy.