Rickshaws, Trains and Automobiles - and motorcycles

The main mode of transportation for those without vehicles (like us) is automatic rickshaws.  They are similar to a three wheeled passenger golf cart.  There is a training school for the drivers and they are suppose to be licensed.  Most of the rickshaws are yellow and green or yellow and black.  If you see one that is other than those colors, it is probably a private rickshaw. 

The process for hailing a rickshaw is fascinating, in itself.  I am going to proceed as though I were with Lacey and give you an idea of engaging a rickshaw and riding in one.

Lacey stands on the edge of the street and when she sees an empty rickshaw coming steps forward a bit, raises a hand and says, "Auto".  If the driver is available he pulls over.  She steps up and says the location that she would like to go "Mantre Mall?  You know?".  He might squint, or say, "Ya, ya" and point to the back seat, or shake his head and drive off.  If he indicates that he would be willing, then the negotiations begin.  Usually he will say, "100 rupees" and she will say, "No, meter only", he will argue and she will respond.  He will drive away or she will walk away if they can't come to a fair price.  Finally one will come along that agrees to the terms she is determined to get.  Conversation in the rickshaw will be about directions then.  He clarifies where she wants to go and she will say, "You know?  It's ok, I know".  As we are going through the crazy traffic, he is waiting for directions.  "Stret (straight)" or "Okey, turn left" and when we arrive, "Stop, stop".  If we are lucky he has done as he agreed and we owe what the meter reads.   We exit quickly and take care of our business only to do this once again when we are ready to return home.

The foreigners who live there develop what I call "Indian English".  It is quite intriguing to hear them speak it.  The Indians who speak English have a distinct accent which they have learned and passed on.  Chase could speak "Indian English" very well, and I think actually enjoyed it.  To speak it, you hit some consonants very hard, soften hard vowels, and leave out unimportant words.  You say, "Okey" and "Ya, ya" or "Yes, yes" a lot.  If you can add in the Indian head bobble, it is even that much more fun.  All of the rickshaw drivers speak "Indian English" or barely English!

Some of the rickshaws are very nice and some are what I call janky.  The traffic is horrific and you need to be sure and keep all of your limbs safely inside of the vehicle.  The left side is the traditional side on which you drive, however, really if you can overtake the vehicle in front of you, the whole road is open to you.  It is not unusual to be meeting oncoming traffic on their side of the road and barely make it back in as you are passing.  I still don't understand why we didn't see more accidents.  The rickshaw drivers nose in between cars, buses and motorcycles with no hesitation and only inches to spare.  It is scary but also in a weird way, exciting.

 
Rickshaw travel is safe and efficient for the most part.  Once in a great while you get in one that the driver really doesn't know where he is going, or the rickshaw breaks down (the driver gets out and proceeds to work on it), or it is night and you realize your rickshaw had absolutely no lights, or your driver takes you on a side excursion because he had an errand to run...the thing is, if you choose, you can just get out and wait for another one to come along (because one always does!)

We also took taxis some.  They cost more and have to be called and waited upon.  It is a nicer ride, but much less convenient.  Air conditioning is available in taxis and it is nice to not have to breath all of the fumes and dust when you ride in one.  There are no seat belts or seat belt laws.  You just hang on and hope!

We did see a couple of accidents, but defensive driving is important there.  As we passed a little fender bender, I learned about how things work in India.  A girl driving a car was being pursued by a rickshaw driver and she was being surrounded by rickshaws.  She had a terrified look on her face.  The rickshaw had somehow had the headlight smashed out in a collision with her.  She just kept driving.  Our rickshaw driver joined the gang.  Lacey scolded him with , "No, no!  This is not your business.  Go...GO!"  He did as she asked but the girl was already being stopped by the others around her.  Chase told me how their traffic accident practices go.  There are policemen, but many of them can be bribed.  Most people take care of the details themselves.  The driver who believes it is the other person's fault sets a price for repair of his vehicle.  If the other person does not have the amount on him, the offended driver can punch him in the face.  YIKES!  No wonder the girl was terrified!

There are many motorcycles and scooters on the road.  It is not unusual to see whole families riding on them.  The women often ride "side-saddle" behind the men and I honestly don't know how they stay on!!
Motorcycles are a great way to get around fast.  They just make their own lane and move in and out and in between cars and buses.  There is a lot of honking that goes on all the time from all vehicles.

The buses are so scary.  They move at fast speeds not really being cautious about other vehicles.  Why would they - they are the biggest vehicles on the road!  We heard that they are allowed one pedestrian death per year without repercussion.  They are usually overcrowded and old looking. 

Bangalore has a new mass transit system.  It is in the early stages and runs only one direction and back.  As time goes by and more tracks are built, I wonder how it will change the face of the rickshaw business.  Ajay loved to ride it.  Chase would take him on a ride and in that they had to take a rickshaw to the station, those outings were by far his favorite.

Ajay's very favorite ride - Daddy's shoulders



Riding the rails - with Mason Wadley and Kristen Vaughan!  I KNOW - crazy!!







While riding through traffic, white people get a lot of attention - especially white people with blond haired blue-eyed little boys or a baby.  Everyone stares.  People sitting on motorcycles will pull out their phone and take pictures. Sometimes the rickshaw drivers talk to the child, take pictures of him, and even record his voice. 

 
                     In this picture you can see Ajay's face in the rickshaw driver's outside mirror!!  Haha - why?

One thing is for sure...I know one little boy who thinks rickshaws are amazing!  Who knows, maybe he will even drive one someday!

Big Basket and McDonalds

Our grocery shopping experience did not end with Easy Day.  Lacey discovered through a local friend that there was an online grocery store called, “Big Basket”.  We decided to give it a try.  She found the website and we placed an order.  With just a hick up or two, we successfully placed an order which was set for delivery the next evening.  It was so exciting!  (Yes, groceries – yes, exciting).  They arrived at our house with boxes and crates of our order, brought them into the house and unloaded them.  Lacey was given her order sheet and encouraged to check it off.  Most everything we ordered was there and we paid the men. We had cereal, boxed milk and juice, butter, eggs, bread, meat (chicken and buffalo - water buffalo – not much beef to be found), and several other cooking essentials.  It was almost like Christmas!  We chose to shop this way for the rest of the time we were there.  The down side was we couldn’t see the produce and meat before we bought them – the up side was we didn’t have to pack it all in a rickshaw to bring home!

We purchased our bread from a little bakery, Bread Works, owned by some Believers.  The bread was really so good!  We had a local corner store that we went to in a pinch that was just a block away.  There was a little shop that sold and delivered our water that was in our block, and we discovered a small butcher shop that carried ground beef along with many other hard to find items.  Gelato was on the menu several days a week (Italian ice cream) and they delivered!  Chase and Lacey just couldn't resist!!

So, my first experience with buff, as they call it, was interesting.  We bought quite a bit of ground buff our first order.  We were ordering in metric measurements and didn’t have a good idea of how much we were ordering.  We put everything away quickly and planned to store it better or cook it in the morning.  When we got up the next day, there was a terrible funk in the kitchen.  It didn’t take us long to identify it as the buff when we were opening the fridge.  We had so much, and apparently it was ruined over night.  Bad food is not that easy to dispose of and so we just left it there for the day, trying to figure out what to do. 

Later that evening, Freda, a friend of Chase and Lacey who has lived in Asia for some time, came over.  I asked her about it.  She agreed that it didn’t smell pleasant, but she said it wasn’t spoiled and always smells that way.  I decided to cook it while Chase and Lacey were gone.  As soon as I got a sear on it, it began looking and smelling normal.  We had about 4 – 5 pounds of ground buff when it was cooked down.  I put it in the freezer and we made soup, chili, chili mac and other yummy dishes with it. 

The chicken looked pretty good, so I boiled it knowing that we were in need of chicken broth for Christmas morning.  It turned out well, and so the cooking began!

Lacey taught me how to cook in a pressure cooker!  I had seen them when I was little and remembered the whistle and the warnings of cooking with one.  Lacey was fearless!  And she was good!  We had some delicious southern American food during my stay.  I became a fan of pressure cooking!!

Christmas was approaching and there were some old familiar recipes that we wanted to put on the table.  We really wanted cornbread dressing, but Lacey didn’t think we could find cornmeal.  After some investigating we discovered that it would be called maize flour.  A friend told us where we could find it.  We also wanted some desserts that called for brown sugar.  Again, Lacey didn’t think it was available.  Lacey’s friend also told us about jaggery – the nearest brown sugar substitute that she had found.  She gave us some and then told us where we could get more.  We ordered some from Big Basket but it came in one huge hunk and we didn’t have a grinder with which to break it down.  Jaggery was a great addition to our pantry for Christmas though. When we went to the store that sold maize flour and ground jaggery, we also found chocolate chips!  We bought way too many – but it was worth it in the end.

Vanilla extract was something we couldn’t find, but I brought some with me, so we had enough for Christmas baking.  Spices in general, are in abundance there.  They come in little boxes with foil liners.  Something that we discovered quickly was that they were fresh and potent!  We each ruined a pot of chili by using the suggested amount in the American recipe we were following.  It was so tasty, but impossible to eat!  HOT!

This was my big baking mess.  I pulled the jaggery out of the package and it flew all over the room!

Baking was a challenge.  We didn’t have baking dishes, so we had to borrow some.  It was Christmas and most everyone was using their baking dishes.  A few people threw us some of their least used dishes and we made do.  All in all, we served really good cornbread dressing, chicken, a yummy slaw, green beans, and pumpkin pie.  We had friends over and our Christmas dinner was a hit.

Bangalore is a city with many western restaurants.  Chase and Lacey were in food heaven!  They don’t get to eat at many truly western restaurants where they live, so they wanted to make the best of it.  We ate McDonalds, KFC, Quiznos, Dominoes, Taco Bell, Subway, California Pizza Kitchen, Chili’s, and Hard Rock Café.  We also ate Indian food and in some Indian restaurants.  We ate a couple of times with friends in their homes.  My favorite by far was the Persian restaurant that Chase took me to.  We had schwarma, falafel, and cinnamon rice…amazing food and great atmosphere!

California Pizza Kitchen



Hard Rock Cafe



Read the box...quite entertaining





Indian take-out...pretty yummy



Menu at the Persian restaurant.  It is hard to see, but it was given to us in a wooden box and the menu was printed on cloth.

schwarma - pita-type bread wrap - filled with chicken and yummy thinly sliced veggies with an amazing sauce



I called this cinnamon rice...made with carmelized onion and cinnamon and a whole lot of other delicious spices...ummm



Falafel pita sandwich - The most delicately sliced veggies with hummus and three rings of fried falafel (chick peas that have been mashed and fried)  I know!  I would have never imagined myself liking this!  The little pickles were amazing, too.  Persian food - perhaps my very favorite!



Loved this Chinese food that we got at the mall!  If you look carefully, you can see the HUGE pile of rice that is ready to be made into wonderful other dishes!  It was spicy, but very good.  The name cracks me up (Beijing Bites)

Most of the foreigners have Didi’s – locals who work for them as house helpers.  They hire them, train them, and pay them fair price for their work.  The blessed ones are those that get some of the more seasoned helpers that are also Believers.  They can be trusted and become close to the family.  They know the local markets and do the shopping and have mad cooking skills.  I was the closest thing that Chase and Lacey had to a Didi during their extended stay – and I was lacking in all skills!

Squatties and Showers

I mentioned in a previous post that our Bangalore apartment had two bathrooms - one western and one squatty. In this post I intend to give you more information than you could ever ask for or expect about the Asian bathroom experience. Lets get right to it!

What is a squatty, you ask? It is just what it sounds like. It is an Asian porcelain throne. It is on the floor and to be mounted with both feet flanking each side of said toilet - then assume the position the name suggests. This type of toilet is recommended for young people and Asians.  By the way, ours happened to be mauve in color. In that bathroom there was a low faucet and shower head and a bucket. Since toilet paper is not commonly used, every bathroom is equipped with a faucet intended for clean up following use. There was a sink and our clothes washing machine in this bathroom, too.  There was no hot water in this bathroom. We primarily used this space for laundry.  As in all bathrooms, the single window was always left open, inviting all local mosquitoes to party there.

A western toilet is more like the toilets we have in the US. Most "westerners" prefer using them. I have heard that some Asians are so opposed to sitting on one that they will assume the squatty position on western toilets when visiting the US.

There was a small pedestal sink tucked away in the hall - also mauve. This is where I brushed my teeth. There is a process for brushing teeth, too...get water bottle with clean water, wet toothbrush with bottled water, add toothpaste and brush, spit,repeat, rinse mouth with bottled water, wash off toothbrush with bottled water - bend down and turn on water faucet below sink, rinse sink, turn water flow off below sink. Whew! The hardest part is remembering to not rinse in sink water!


Come take a shower with me - well, not literally but let me tell you about it. To shower - turn on the geezer and wait 15 minutes for hot water. A geezer is a small hot water tank
that is mounted up high in the bathroom.  There is usually a switch like a light switch you click to "on".
Take only what is necessary into the bathroom with you - as little clothes as possible and your towel and washcloth. To go into the bathroom, you must slide the deadbolt on the outside of the door and turn on the light from the outside. When you get in, you slide the deadbolt on the inside  of the door. 

The shower is not in a stall - it is in the end of the bathroom. Close the lid of the toilet. After taking care to put your dry clothes, towel and the toilet paper as far away as you can get them, pull extremely hard on the handle of the shower to open it. (Be thankful your son-in-law rigged the shower head up high with a coat hanger or you would be sitting on a low stool or holding it in your hand while showering with no place to put it). Begin adjusting the hot and cold water and hope for a good water flow and that it holds up at least until you get the soap out of your hair. Shower as normal while standing next to an open window through which mosquitoes feel free to come and go and you can hear all the neighborhood daily business going on. When your shower is over and the water has been turned off, you squeegee the floor with squeegee that is always provided. Remember to turn off the geezer unless someone is following you.  You try to find a dry place to towel off, gather your things and exit. Deadbolt the outside again and turn off the light. Go some place to dry off better and dress for the day.

Mommy's have it harder while bathing the children.  There is a little tub for bathing them

Swinging my hair beneath the ceiling fan with little man and his best friend Froggy helping was my preferred way to dry my hair!

Gadgets and Practical Living

Our dwelling place in Bangalore was an apartment that Chase and Lacey rented for their two and half month stay.  It belongs to a family of four who live on the second floor and the father's aunt lives on the top floor.  Multiple family homes are the norm there.  Many people buy or build their home with the intention of having income property.  This makes for very interesting hardware found on odd doors - both inside and out. 

Now I am not talking about just outside doors, I am talking about all doors. In our apartment we had huge ancient looking hardware.  Each door has a deadbolt in the middle on the top and on the bottom on the outside of the door and each one has a deadbolt in the middle on the top and on the bottom on the inside of the door.

The rental that where we lived was on the first floor.  First floor windows are barred from the inside - the bars are permanently installed and there is no way out or in through them.  The glass in the windows is frosted.  To get fresh air or let in your daily dose of mosquitoes, you would push the window open through the bars and hook them to close them (or go outside and push them shut as I had to do sometimes).  With the two extra outside doors padlocked from the inside and no key available and the bars on the windows, there was no alternative escape route besides the front door.  If someone chose, they could throw the deadbolt on the outside of the front door and ...well, you get the picture.  As far as fire hazards, the walls are all concrete and metal so there isn't much to burn.

We enjoyed a sunken living room, dining area, good size kitchen, two bedrooms and two bathrooms (one of them a squatty and one western).  The floors are all marble tile.  This is very condusive to Indian living.  They aren't spectacular but practical.  We had two girls who would come in three times a week and sweep and mop the floors and clean the bathrooms.  With a great flurry, they quickly moved through the house in their saris with their asian style brooms and a mop and bucket, finishing their work in under 30 minutes.  For this they received 1000 rupees each month (approx $20).  It was remarkable how much dirt and dust were on the floor in just two days time!

The kitchen became my domain.  Everyone needs purpose - to be loved, wanted and needed - and I am no different.  I saw quickly that my presence in the kitchen would be welcome.  We were fairly well equipt for a rental place and made do with what we had in a pinch.  The stove and oven were gas and ran off of a tank.  I enjoyed cooking with gas - it has been a while.  We had a microwave, large fridge/freezer, water cooler, and the portable clothesdryer was in the kitchen.  The outlets were used for multiple appliances and so we had to plan well for maximum use.  We had a toaster, hot pot and bottle steralizer that we had to juggle, along with the microwave and sometimes the clothes dryer. 

The biggest obstacle in cooking and cleaning is the water.  There is no running hot water in the kitchen and the water that comes from the faucet is not injestable.  Although most westerners living there have adapted and don't mind washing their dishes in cold water and then waiting for them to completely dry before using them, I just couldn't do it.  I developed a process.  I would boil water while I washed the dishes by filling the largest bowl or cup that I had with water and dish soap.  I washed everything with that water, as much as possible, refilling as needed. (Water conservation is more important there and so you don't leave the water running).  I would then rinse them in cold water to remove the soap.  I would set everything in the sink side by side that would hold water and pour the boiling water in.  When everything had been rinsed with boiling water, I would put them on the counter to dry. With cooking, you had to constantly be thinking about the unsafe water.  We would wash vegetables and fruits in bottled water with a grapeseed extract to kill the nasties on the peels.  We would wash vegetables that would be cooked in sink water to get dirt off and we would used bottled water to actually cook with.  Alll drinking water came from the cooler. Yes, it is a process just to get clean, safe food.

The clothes washer was in the squatty bathroom.  It took forever to fill so we began filling it with a bucket - much more time efficient.  The dryer was in the kitchen.  Most often we would wait until the evening to use it because it took up the kitchen space and had to share an outlet with our other countertop appliances.  It also heated up the kitchen and so we waited to push it across the room and stretch the hose across the sink and vent it out the window until later.  We also utilized a drying rack quite a bit.  We had great ceiling fans and the clothes dried fairly quickly.

When Ajay was snuggled all safe in his bed, we would relax and play a game or watch a movie from the selection some friends had loaned us.

About 10:00 am, exhausted from the day, we would say good-nights and I love yous and turn out the lights.  Anyone have a guess how to do that?

Squatty talk, how to shower and how to brush your teeth - next post!

Wal-Mart...Asian Style!

I arrived at our temporary dwelling in Bangalore, India in the early morning hours.  I had slept some and rested quite well for the two days that I had spent on the plane.  I was excited about being there and getting reaquainted with my almost two year old grandson and wild horses could not have dragged me to bed! 

Lacey needed to go grocery shopping and I was game - not wanting to miss a thing! We walked down the street and I began experiencing life as I would know it for the next 5 weeks.  I was very time disoriented and I suppose also in somewhat of culture shock.  I remember it as though looking through a frosted glass or maybe a dream.  I could hear Lacey talking and was responding appropriately (I think), but the flood of unfamiliar street noises and snapshots of visually stimulating scenes overtook my senses. 

She stood at the edge of the street, very pregnant and vulnerable, raised her hand slightly and spoke, "Auto".  I stood behind her feeling a little inhibited and watched as she negotiated our transportation in one of the local automatic rickshaws.  When she and the driver had agreed, she quickly moved to get into the back seat and I just followed without question.  I was tired, but I didn't want to miss a thing.  Riding in this golf-cart like vehicle through the roads in unbelievable traffic should have been daunting, but instead it was fascinating.  My eyes could not behold enough.  Who would have ever thought that I could be speechless and in sensory overload? 

Lacey explained to me that we were going to the Wal-Mart store, Easy Day.  Now, during her globe-trotting she has often called stores a "Wal-Mart store", when they were not, indeed, but were a place that many things could be purchased under one roof.  When we got to the store, I was surprised to see the Wal-Mart blue and the gold colored tear-drop shaped icon seen on many Wal-Mart stores in the US. The store carried many US brands and even Great Value.  I'm not sure of their true association, but this was an Asian Wal-Mart. 

We entered on the ground level, with the traditional security personel standing guard by the front door - no nice lady with a bird on her shoulder greeting us (for Batesville resident's pleasure).  This was the produce level.  Lacey knew she had some packaged products to buy and even some everyday department store needs, so we went to the second floor.  We wheeled our basket to the moving escalator/cart carrier and went to the second floor.  Here we found everything from linens and baskets to toys, cleaning products and canned goods.  We spent some time just looking to see what was available.  She chose some shelf products such as boxed cereal and a few canned goods.

It was time to go back to the main floor and purchase produce, look at the frozen foods, and see what meat we might find.  We passed the large barrels of every kind of rice and lentels on the planet as we made our way back to the escalator.  It was tempting just to stop and run my fingers through them - such a tactilly pleasing temptation!! When we got back to the first level we went to the refrigerated/frozen foods.  Here we found yogurt, butter, frozen peas and corn.  Lacey was excited about the cheese - cheddar, mozerella and even cream cheese, a luxury they don't have in their home land.  We bypassed the mutton hotdogs and chicken sausage.  We wheeled around to the very tiny, limited supply meat counter.  There was chicken - a lot of skinny, dried out looking chicken.  There was mutton - not very appealing and poorly butchered mutton.  There was absolutely no beef.  We were done quickly there.

Finally we began looking at the produce.  It was beautiful and very aesthetically attractive.  There were many items that we didn't know what were and didn't know how to buy.  We chose garlic, small red onions, a few potatoes, and green and chili peppers.  We took them to the counter to be weighed and priced (like they do deli meat in the US).  Our basket was full and it was time to check out.

We got into the long line and waited our turn.  At that moment it hit me - we had to get all of this stuff home somehow.  We had to carry it, hail a rickshaw, make a deal and put it in the rickshaw quickly.  It would be a challenge - a very pregnant young white woman and an older American woman with her foot in a boot, carrying a cane, standing beside the road with multiple bags of groceries trying to make a deal with a rickshaw driver!  It was not long until I saw how wrong that scenerio was.  In India, grocery bags are amazingly strong and very nice.  The catch is, you pay for them.  The cashier had misunderstood Lacey and thought we wanted ALL of the groceries in two bags so at the end of check out, we had two very large bags crammed full of groceries!  We had to manage carrying them out by ourselves!  Lacey is resourceful and she took the cart out with us and we stood by the roadside, looking pitiful.

I was so grateful when a rickshaw driver took pity on us and decided to give us a ride on Lacey's conditions.  He helped load the groceries into the back of the rickshaw and took us to our door, where Chase was waiting to help unload.  By this time, I was very tired and ready to rest!  I was also grateful for our Wal-Mart at home and personal transportation that we often take for granted.

Bangalore, India or Bust!

On December 5, 2012, the day before my 56th birthday, I said good-bye to my family and friends and America as I boarded a plane in Little Rock, Arkansas with India as my final destination.  I was carrying a heavy backpack and sporting a corrective boot and cane.  I checked three bags, all at or near capacity, full of goodies and gifts for our overseas children.  Due to my incapacity, my amazing husband had ordered full wheelchair access in airports across the globe.  It was a total life-saver for me!

At check-in, I agreed to walk to my first gate in the Little Rock airport due to the size of the airport and nearness of the gate.  From that moment on, I was met with a wheelchair and ushered around like royalty.  When my plane landed in London, at Heathrow Airport, I was especially grateful.  I would be taken from station to station and wait for my next ride there.  We had planned for plenty of time with a London layover of about 5 hours.  I finally reached my connecting flight gate with only one hour to spare.  When served by this service, you receive priviledges not commonly extended by the airlines.  Your attendant takes your passport and ticket, walks through blocked off line guards and around other people and even at security, puts everything you have in the tub and takes care of your every need.  As a handicapped person, you board first and get settled before everyone else is allowed to board.  I was even given bulkhead seating on one flight for my convenience and always the isle seat in every circumstance. 

Having traveled through Dallas/Fort Worth many times, and having a short layover there, my experience in the airport was uneventful.  I was a little bit anxious about what the airport at London might bring.  Brithish Airways met me at the end of the gangplank with a wheelchair.  My attendant took my information and took me to a waiting people mover.  I don't know why, but I was treated with much respect and given more attention than the other foreigners.  We were taken to a holding space where many people were waiting on transport.  Finally my name was called and I was taken to another people mover.  This time we drove on to a cargo elevator and were taken to the bowels of Heathrow airport.  It was very surreal.  We were in an underground tunnel that was concrete and lighted by these weird florescent purplish-blue lights.  We were virtually the only people down there, passing one or two other carts along the way.  It was something like being in a futuristic sy-fy movie.  I almost expected Twilight Zone music to start at any moment.  Our immediate destination was outside where we were transferred to a waiting bus.  At the bus stop, another wheelchair was awaiting me.  Finally, I was taken straight to my gate and left in the hands of the crew to continue the next leg of my flight and to my final destination.

In Bangalore, I was once again met by a wheelchair which took me through customs and straight to the luggage carriage.  A local was on hand to offer (for pay) to take my luggage outside where Chase would be waiting for me. 

It was an easy trip though very long and tiring.  I was so happy to see my tall American son-in-law standing right outside the door.  My long journey was over but the adventure had just begun.

I will post some of my experiences and thoughts (and pictures if I can figure that out) over the next few weeks as I am processing my time spent in a foreign land for several weeks. 

                                         Underground - Heathrow Airport, London, England

Christmas Memories

Some of my first Christmas memories are of my childhood home. My mother was very particular about the Christmas tree. We always had a real tree. I'm not sure where it came from - I don't think we bought them. Perhaps my dad went out and cut one down. The tree was always a cedar tree, usually somewhat mis-shapen, and almost always too tall. We had colored glass balls of many sizes with which to decorate the tree. We always lost one to the hard wood floor but we were repeatedly told how fragile they were and to be careful. The family got to help put on the Christmas balls, but it was Mother's job to put on the silver icicles. Most trees in the early 60's had silver strands of metallic strips called "icicles". Most of them were thrown on the tree in a carefree, globby fashion, but not ours. Mother would spend hours putting them on one-by-one and really didn't want any help. She always wanted her tree to be comparable to a "department store" Christmas tree - done to perfection. The strands of lights were bulky and heavy, but no one had anything else and so they were acceptable. We always had multi-colored lights. Dad's job was to string a few lights around the window outside, and maybe the door, too.

There were six in our family and sometimes we had Aunt Joan's family at our house for Christmas, too. We always opened gifts on Christmas Eve. I do remember Santa coming on Christmas morning when I was really small, though. I remember one Christmas morning getting up and running into the living room. I had a big stuffed yellow poodle dog and a teddy bear under the tree. I loved them very much and kept them until I was an older teenager. I only received one bicycle that I can remember and I was probably in the third or fourth grade when I got it. I don't really have any more clear memories of "Santa" gifts other than those which were marked from "Santa" at our family time.

One year I remember pouring out a box of Barbie clothes in the floor and all over me. There were so many and I loved them. I found out years later that Mother had made them. They didn't have a lot of money that year and she was a terrific seamstress, so she made Barbie clothes for me. My friend Candy had a lot of store bought Barbie clothes, but she liked to play with mine because they were different.

One year I got a wig with which to play dress up and a red stuffed fox. I have pictures of myself in the wig and holding the fox on our front porch. I got a "Posey Pixie" doll for Christmas one year and a Wedding Doll, which I still have, too. One year after I was an adult, Mom gave them to me restored. Posey Pixie was just too fragile and her foam body began to deteriorate so I had to dispose of her but I still have the Wedding doll. I must admit, she has seen better days before Lacey decided to drag her around by her neck and draw on her face with ink when she was a child. Kelly hated her and still does. Maybe I'll have a grand daughter some day who will appreciate her.

Most of my memories have more to do with people than with presents. Our house was always full and loud at Christmas. We tore open gifts and found ourselves knee deep in paper most years - the one time a year we were allowed to be messy for a few minutes. Being together has always been the most fun and even today, our children think of Christmas as being at Mother's house more than our own. Tomorrow is Christmas. Most of the traditions are gone. The house will be quiet, but memories live on.