Last evening as I was standing at my perch, I noticed two teenage boys, smiling and gesticulating broadly. It took me a minute to realize they were using sign language and having a grand old time. Speaking of disabilities, I'm sure you have noticed my use of the word crippled. This is very deliberate. "Physically challenged" is an inappropriate sugar-coated euphemism for what these people endure. Although there is no sense of self pity here, it hurts me to think how easily many of these people could have been helped in our country. It looks to me like many of these people were damaged during the birthing process. I see terribly bowlegged people here and I think of my son, Robby. He was a chunky baby and walked very early, causing his legs to bow badly. Special shoes with a bar connecting them to sleep in, and problem fixed. Here is a quick recap on how I am doing:
Head: Although there is constant, unrelenting noise around me, I feel that I am in Maxwell Smart's Cone of Silence. I finally figured out it was due to my inability to understand the language, allowing my mind to wander elsewhere. This drives JP nuts because he will be talking to me for a minute or two before I realize I am being addressed.
Eyes: Getting new glass in my sunglasses did not cost $30 as we had estimated. It was $5. Even though the sun is very bright, I find that I do not want anything between my eyes and the sites of India, so I squint.
Nose: The horrible air pollution as we get stuck in yet another traffic jam finally did my nasal passages in. I got a terrible cold that lasted all of 24 hours. I am very arrogant about my good immune system, and take it as a personal affront when I get a cold.
Throat: Thankfully, I am not coughing much. Last visit I got the worse cough of my life and really did wish I could just die. The constancy of it was terrible. They called the doctor who came to the house and fixed me right up.
Arms: These are the only parts of my body that stick out of the sheets, and these tiny mosquitoes take advantage. About 30 years ago India tried to eradicate mosquitoes by heavily spraying with DDT. Now, of course, we have mosquitoes immune to everything science can throw at them. I remember reading years ago that the milk of all mothers contain traces of DDT. Dear God, what have we done.
Heart: I made the mistake a few days ago of taking the Ayurvedic blood pressure meds at the same time I took the Allopathic and Chinese. Big mistake. My blood pressure dropped precipitously and I was like a wet noodle. I heard my grandson, Owen, saying as he had when he was little, "That's 'tupid, Grandmom". Smita bahoo to the rescue. She brought me salt water to drink, and the BP went back up. She also said that to bring BP down, I should drink a little sugar water.
Digestive system: Doing quite well, thank you. It took three weeks, but I am now used to Indian bacteria.
Knees: Still loudly complaining, but since they are connected to the rest of the body, not much they can do.
JP wanted some pure cotton shirts because it is starting to get hot. Smita bahoo took us to the shop of a relative, the father of the boy who mysteriously died. JP said no, I should not give him my condolences, and should not mention it at all. I follow the rules of the culture and say nothing. JP and Smita made it very clear he wanted only pure cotton. Vijaya assured us the two chosen were all cotton. We foolishly trusted him. When we got home we looked and felt them more closely, and realized one probably had no cotton in it at all. The other seemed to be a 65/35 blend. No inside tags here. Whether he thought they were cotton or was just used to saying what the person wanted to hear, we don't know. In this culture, buyer beware is an understatement. JP just wanted to let it go. Scrappy Smita bahoo said no, she was taking them back. Now remember, taking something back to a store is not like hopping in the car to go to Walmart. First she has to argue with a rickshaw walla for five minutes to get a fair price, then breath in exhaust for 45 minutes, then, risking life and limb, cross the street to the store. I agree with JP, not worth it.
Speaking of crossing the street, I'm getting pretty good at it, as long as Smita bahoo is holding my hand and pulling me along. The trick seems to be willing yourself to be flat, then slipping through traffic.
We went to the Hanuman temple yesterday. Hanuman is the beloved monkey god who is Lord Rama's right hand man in the epic Ramayana. This is a very sacred temple for Hindu's. And, as it was Tuesday, Lord Hanuman's day, was mobbed. Shouts of Hanuman Ki Jai, rung out. Of course there are hoards of monkeys here. This temple was bombed by terrorists about three years ago and was closed for six months. It was a devastating blow to the people here.
Our last stop for the day was back to BHU so JP could walk the halls of the chemistry department here, as he had spent so much time here as an undergrad. He said it had somehow changed and looked very antiquated, yet was also the same. I suggested that it had not changed at all, but that he had. He agreed.
This will be my last blog for a day or two. Tomorrow morning we leave for a 20 hour train trip southeast to Puri, then onto Chennai. We will be gone from Varanasi for about three weeks and are a little nervous, especially about train schedules. Wish us luck.
Peace,
Nadine
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