Friday, June 5, 2009

Friday, June 5, 2009--Day 23, I think.

The internet has been a problem for me the last two days. Apparently it's available at 1 and 2 AM--according to Adam. But to get to the computer at that hour, I would have to step over sleeping bodies. Anyway, that's why the blog hasn't been published the last two days.
I'M PUBLISHED. When you apply for a teaching position at a place like Indiana University, Purdue University, Michigan, Texas A + M, IUSB, Stanford, they want to know what you have published (most generally in the way of scholarly research). So now I am published in the arena of cultural education!
A couple of days ago Amelia and I went shopping and to the beach. Amelia is a shopper. I am not. But she was having so much fun, how could I get upset? She even bargained with the shop owners! And that was AFTER Francis got them to take off 5%! I found some bracelets for Ella and Lauren. Most of the kids don't seem to have toys here, and the toys in the shops were junk. Very poor quality. Made of plastic, but I was afraid they would break on the way back to the States so I am still looking for Keagan and Sam. I found a book in English, which I think Keagan could have read with help, but the subject matter was probably not going to be appropriate. I definitely haven't found anything I thought was safe enough to give Sam. (A man tried to sell me a book in English about Kerala, which I probably would have liked, but he wanted 1600 rupees--Manufacturer's Retail Price--which is about $35 US, and it definitely wasn't worth that. And I only had 400 + rupees anyway. So, saved by the rupee.)
The only toy I have seen a child play with besides a bicycle here is a stick and an old bike tire, which is like my father played with when he was a kid--a hoop and a stick. Amelia bought the kids a ball. I didn't think of it or I would have, too. I was thinking of sending them some whiffle balls, but I will have to check on import issues before I do that.
Back to the story: Our taxi driver was recently returned from Dubai where he was one of the people from Kerala who went there for the money for his family. He spent 15 years there, coming home every two years for two months. He said there are a lot of Americans in Dubai. His reason for returning to Kerala was that Dubai had gotten two expensive for him. Colonel Babu told us that they sleep in rooms of 15 to 20 men so he must have been sending almost all his money back here. He was driving a Toyota Minivan which looked fairly new--I'm not a good judge of such things. My Accord looks new to me. It had air conditioning, thank heaven, because it was an afternoon of very high humidity. The windows were roll down windows as are all vehicles with windows here. And no safety features like airbags. BTW: that afternoon was the first time I had seen someone lose their temper in the driving. It wasn't our driver. It was someone helping someone turn this big old truck around in the middle of an intersection, which is a nearly impossible thing to do.
At the market, we found a place for Amelia to buy a sari and a whatever it's called for her husband made out of really high quality cotton. Remember I told you that Indian cotton has a higher quality than cotton from England? We looked in some other shops then walked by the Hindu temple we were not allowed to enter. As we walked past it the first time, there was no sign of police. As we walked back there were TWO. One was following us! I guess we're dangerous. He would not allow us to take pictures of this smaller pool within a humongous pool attached to the temple ostensibly because people were bathing. Their private parts were covered, but... You would need a telescopic lens to even see that. So I didn't take a picture.
On the walk back to the car we came across our first beggar--an old lady who was not happy with whatever amount Amelia gave here. On the street there are vendors roasting peanuts--kind of like the chestnut vendors in London. We aren't allowed to eat or drink anything off the street. I did take my water bottle so I stayed more or less hydrated.

Next we went to the beach where there was a stiff wind blowing. It was a fisherman's beach, meaning they put out from this beach to fish and return to this beach with their catch. On the 15th of June they are not allowed to fish for 45 days in order to protect the spawning of lots of different types of fish, crabs, etc. A hardship for them. The beach is very steep and there is a strong undertow so not many people get in the water past their knees. There were only a few children in the water and no adults. There were lots of people on the beach, however. The beach is not groomed except by the tides so there was quite a bit of litter and small sticks such that I didn't take my shoes off. I had already been told by Dr. Baji I couldn't go swimming, and it seemed like he wasn't exactly thrilled about walking in the water either. "You are still in treatment." Two nice young men dressed in western clothing came up to us to practice their English. One was an English teacher; the other was his student He had a belt on which said USA. Their English was most definitely better than the English teacher who helped me find my way back to Zamorin a couple of weeks ago. I asked them how they knew we might be the only English-speaking people on the beach? Joke. We were the only two with white skin on the whole beach. (Francis was within two yards of us the whole time.) Amelia wanted to wait to watch the sun go down, and I love the beach so we had time to talk to these two. I kept looking at Francis to make sure it was okay. He wasn't concerned until a third man joined us. He was a fisherman--and proud of it. After about two minutes, Francis moved us away because he was concerned that more people would join us, and who knows what could happen. He is in charge of our safety so we left and walked back down the beach and waited for the sunset, which was ok.

The boats these fishermen use are shaped like canoes, maybe 20 feet long, no motor, maybe 3-4 feet deep. Not as deep as I am tall. They use nets. Made of heavy wood. I would think it's a hard life. Made harder by the ban on fishing.

Have to go to treatment. It was soooooooo gooooooood to have some communication!!!!!

Love,
Mom/Peggy/Granny/et.al.