Homesickness and Randomness

Yes, I know, Fellow Adventurers, AWOL again. I’ve been pretty grouchy lately and it’s hard for me to write a funny blog post when the only humor I have is the biting, sarcastic kind. Nothing is really wrong, I’m just generally kind of out of sorts. Kevin is gone. I haven’t heard her since we got back from India. I miss her wakeup call. I miss America and stuff like cheese and Target and restaurants that open for dinner before 7:30 pm. I don’t need that stuff to be happy, I just kind of feel a bit nostalgic for all of that lately. I love living overseas and I will be sad when our time here ends, but I think it’s part of the human condition to miss one’s homeland. I'm pretty sure people have been doing it since the first cavemen walked over ice floes to other continents. That’s why people call their home countries the Motherland and wax poetic about it throughout human history. I totally understand why people kiss the ground when they return to the land of their birth. It doesn’t matter how rotten things were in your motherland, it’s somehow part of your soul. I think the Irish are the biggest offenders. (See Angela's Ashes or pretty much anything written by an Irish expat.) Lucky for me, I’m about 98% German. Luckier for me, part of that other 2% is Irish and is enough to give me a really cool maiden name and the ability to wax poetic with the best of them. The jury is still out on which side gave me my mad alcohol consumption skills. (See, that was pretty funny…now we’re getting somewhere.)

Anyway, the bottom line is that I haven’t been very inspired by the idea of blogging lately. I did start writing a piece about the henchmen working on our plumbing. They’re still at it, so I’ll save it until all the hijinks are over, hopefully sooner rather than later. It’s been going on for almost three weeks now, though, so it could be a while. In the mean time, how about some random weird snippets of our life that really don’t fit anywhere else?

-When we first moved here and were staying at the residence hotel, I was very worried that our kids’ large inflatable pool rings would seem like “too much” in the hotel pool. One afternoon, we saw a family give something to the pool boy to inflate. The poor kid spent the next thirty minutes blowing up an inflatable raft with his mouth. When I say inflatable raft, I don’t mean the kind you float around on, napping. I mean an actual boat. After the pool boy finished and went inside (I’m assuming to find an oxygen tank), the family climbed in and proceeded to use oars to paddle around the pool. Tiny inflatable inner tubes? Yeah, we’re good.

-Remember that time Amelia Earhart threw up just before we arrived at the Taj Mahal? I neglected to mention that she rallied and ate four plates of Chinese noodles for lunch.

-Did you know there are thousands of varieties of bananas? In the U.S., almost all the bananas we eat are Cavendish variety, and the small percentage of the rest are primarily made up of what we call plantains. In Sri Lanka, Cavendish bananas are much harder to find. While there are many different kinds of bananas eaten on the island, including red ones, most of the bananas here are the Kolikuttu. They are much smaller than Cavendish bananas, about four inches long, and about a half inch to an inch thicker than what we’re used to. They taste different, too. They’re not bad, but after growing up on Cavendish, I’m sick of the short, fat little buggars.

-Pretty much everyone in this country wears flip flops all day, every day. Case in point: Almost every road construction worker I’ve seen is wearing a hard hat and flip flops. Safety first!

-Everywhere I go in Sri Lanka, I see mothers out with their babies. The babies are usually wearing shorts or sundresses and a knitted stocking cap. Now, this is a tropical island. It’s hot here, Fellow Adventurers. The average temperature is 80 degrees, and these poor tiny things are wearing toasty warm knitted woolen caps with little pompoms on the top. I always want to pull up next to them and snatch the hats off the babies and drive away, eventually collecting a car full of little knitted stocking caps that I would send to babies in Siberia, kind of like Robin Hood for sweaty babies. Babies wearing hats on 90 degree days is such a normal thing that the other day, when we were out driving and I spotted a baby without a hat on, I screeched at The International Man of Intrigue, “LOOK! That baby’s head is uncovered!!! It’s going to catch pneumonia! Someone call Lankan Social Services or whatever they have here!” The International Man of Intrigue sighed. He’s used to me by now. For what it’s worth, he thinks the hat business is weird, too. His theory is that if babies wear hats when they’re small, they get used to being super hot, so once they grow out of the hats, the blasting tropical island heat doesn’t seem so stifling.

- The Little Explorers might be too well traveled. They enjoy playing “airport.” They’re actually quite detailed. They check bags, go through the metal detector, get a wand and do pat downs and check passports and stamp boarding passes. They are more thorough and a whole lot nicer than TSA.

I think that's all I've got for today. My driver just came to the front door, delivering beer that The International Man of Intrigue sent home. I think it's time for a cold one! Have a great weekend, Fellow Adventurers!

The Taj Mahal, People!

We just got back from two weeks in India, where I seem to have lost my motivation. I think I left it next to the bathroom sink in the hotel in Lucknow. I wonder if they’ll mail it back?

At one of our hotels, we were eating breakfast in the restaurant when another American sat down at the table next to us. This older gentleman looked at our kids and said, “Wow. Three little ones in India. You’re brave travelers.” Now, I know there are plenty of you out there who wouldn’t use the word “brave” when describing The Intrigue Family, or any other family who would drag their three very young children all over Third World South Asia. To you I quote Billy Joel, “You may be right, I may be crazy.” At this point, we’ve heard it all. There are plenty of naysayers who say, “I’d wait until they’re older and can appreciate it,” or, “I don’t want to raise my Little Explorers in a hotel room.” Luckily for us, for every naysayer, there are a dozen people who support us, even if it’s only so they can read our misadventures on Facebook or this blog. The truth of the matter is, it is hard to travel with small children sometimes, but we have been given an amazing opportunity and I think we’d be even crazier to let it pass by without seizing every chance for travel. It also helps that we’ve become experts on what to pack to make travel with Little Explorers a breeze. I’ll share the information with you for a small fee. Here’s a teaser: It helps if your Little Explorers are awesome. If they aren’t, well, I’m not sure even I can help you with that.

Despite all best efforts, sometimes things just don’t go according to plan. Take our day at the Taj Mahal. We got up early on a Thursday and left New Delhi to make the drive to Agra, planning on heading straight to the Taj Mahal, since it’s closed on Friday. I had convinced the entire Intrigue Family to dress in coordinating colors. (Ok, really, I convinced The International Man of Intrigue to wear a blue shirt, which made up about half of the shirts he packed anyway. I made the Little Explorers wear what I picked out.) A picture of The Intrigues in front of the Taj has the potential to be blown up and framed or make a really awesome Christmas card.

Less than ten minutes from the Taj Mahal, it happened. I heard that sickening, wet, awful sound that strikes fear into every mother’s heart. It was coming from directly behind me, where Amelia Earhart was sitting. I was powerless, in the middle row with Arthur Dent on my lap. (I know, carseats. Have you been to India? Then don't judge. Read my rant here.) The International Man of Intrigue was safely ensconced in the front seat, oblivious. I interrupted his conversation with our driver, which was taking place completely in Hindi, to call for emergency help and baby wipes. He said, “Did someone spill?” I said, “You don’t recognize that sound? Amelia Earhart just threw up. All over.” It was at this point that I finally turned around to assess the damages. Yep. Vomit, everywhere. Now, The Intrigue Family is pretty unphased by a good barf. There was a period of time where Gertrude Bell threw up in her plate at least once a week at the dinner table. Unfortunately, that period of time was almost a year, and may have resulted in some of our childless friends remaining childless to this day, but that’s another story. The problem with the current situation was that we were 5 minutes from the Taj Mahal, in a rented van, with a rented driver, and now that van was carrying what looked to be about a gallon of barf. I’ll bet you suddenly find yourself wishing I was doing my usual and referencing poop instead, don’t you?

Calm and collected as (almost) always, we changed plans and headed for the hotel, fingers crossed that our room would be ready. Thankfully, it was, and thankfully, our driver didn’t bat an eye at the mess (which, to continue using the word thankfully, was mostly on the floor mat, Amelia Earhart, and her backpack). After convincing every hotel employee we passed that I didn’t need help carrying Amelia Earhart’s backpack, (It’s covered in vomit, people! You don’t want to help!), we made it safely to the room and got my girl cleaned up. It was at this point my hopes for the perfect family photo at the Taj, with all of us in coordinating, but not matching, outfits were dashed. The disappointment was offset by the revelation that Amelia Earhart had just been carsick and had made a complete recovery, so we were at least going to be able to go to the Taj Mahal as a family.

Less than an hour after turning our van into The Vomit Comet, we rolled up to the parking area at the Taj Mahal! This was the moment everyone who visits India waits for! We got our tickets and got into the little electric shuttle bus that took us the quarter mile or so to the entrance. It’s at this point I had a moment of panic. The temperature in New Delhi and here in Agra had been unseasonably hot. It had been either 44 or 45 degrees Celsius every day since we arrived in India. I am not fluent in Celcius, but I know the weather in Colombo stays in the lower 30’s most days, and that’s on a tropical island. I also know that the locals were so hot that events like the New Delhi Gay Pride Parade were being cancelled due to heat. I didn't dare do the math to find out the actual temperature, but you can. Here I was, about to take my three Little Explorers to stand around on unairconditioned marble. I was wearing Arthur Dent on my back and we were both already soaked with sweat. They are amazing little travelers, but was this asking too much? There was nothing to do but press our luck. Big Bucks, No Whammys!

All of that was taken away when we caught our first glimpse of the Taj Mahal. A little history lesson: The Taj Mahal was built by Shah Jahan as a tomb for his favorite wife, Mumtaz Mahal, after she died giving birth to their fourteenth child. He loved her so much he wanted to make the most beautiful building in the world to house her earthly body. It’s made of white marble inlaid with precious stones and is perfectly symmetrical. If you are fortunate enough to be in the actual burial chamber when there aren’t many people around, you can hear the wind whispering through—it is said to be the sound of infinity. It took 10 years to build the Taj and another 12 years to build the surrounding buildings and gardens. Soon after its completion, Shah Jahan’s son forcibly took the throne from his father and had him imprisoned in Agra Fort, across town. The Shah’s prison rooms afforded him an unobstructed view of the Taj Mahal, and he spent the rest of his days staring at the Taj and mourning his wife. He had this to say about the Taj Mahal:

Should guilty seek asylum here,
Like one pardoned, he becomes free from sin.
Should a sinner make his way to this mansion,
All his past sins are to be washed away.
The sight of this mansion creates sorrowing sighs;
And the sun and the moon shed tears from their eyes.
In this world this edifice has been made;
To display thereby the creator's glory.

Yes, beautiful. Pretty much one of the greatest love stories ever told, right up there with Romeo and Juliet and The International Man of Intrigue and Dorothy Gale. You know what? The Taj Mahal totally lived up to its hype. It is breathtaking in its beauty. Even in the sweltering heat, the beauty makes a person want to stop and linger. Amazing inlaid flowers and Arabic script are around every corner. Screens are carved out of marble. The heat also gave us a wonderful gift—a day without too many tourists. We were able to take our time and even catch the whisper of infinity.

In true Intrigue style, the day was a memorable one. From vomit to sweat to one of the most amazing landmarks on the planet, it was a day that will go down in family history. Stay tuned for more Intrigue Family adventures, just as soon as my motivation returns from India.