Halloween

Much like last year, we are not celebrating Halloween with the same enthusiasm as one might living in the United States. His first Halloween was in a nice second-hand, felt pumpkin outfit (seen here), but his second Halloween in Japan, I can’t even remember if we marked the day with anything. This year, at Kids Central, Halloween was to be celebrated last Friday, and all of the children were going to go trick-or-treating at one of the homes of Kaia’s classmates, a British family working at the Consulate. Unfortunately, the wicked rains of last week washed away that opportunity (there are still some places in the city without power and under a few feet of water) and Kaia was rather disappointed.

Since Kaia is very particular with what he wears, we knew that there was no way that we would wear just any old costume, not that we could find something easily here in Chennai. So, when we asked him what he wanted to be, he thought…’airplane…boat…no, dinosaur!’ So it was decided. My wife used some old shirts and a dash of creativity (with hand stitching) to make him a stegosaurus t-shirt, complete with back spines and a long tail. Sure, it is not 100% anatomically correct, but he loved it. She even made him a little hood with eyes on it, but predictably, he wouldn’t let us put it on his head. This boy just hates hats. So, maybe next year, if we’re back in the States, he can make up for the lost years and mark his fourth Halloween with a snappy costume punctuated by a nice neighborhood trick or treat run. I know that I’ll enjoy the candy.

Why I Love this Time: Watching the tremendous growth of a child from one day to the next and how easily it comes is a tremendous life lesson.

Monsoon

About ten days ago, it was declared that the monsoon had arrived in these parts, which is, of course, a very good thing. Chennai has a really big water problem and really depends on a voluminous rainfall over October-November to fill aqueducts and recharge aquifers. While there were some heavy showers, it was not quite what I was expecting, particularly with the long periods of blue sky in-between. I was expecting cats and dogs and it was gnats and ants (literally). Last night that all changed, however. It has been pouring—and I mean POURING for the last 14-15 hours. I didn’t know that much water could fall out of the sky at one time.

Of course, this has led to tremendous flooding—and because we do not have a TV, I’m only aware of a small sliver of what’s going on in the city—and no where to go, but stay inside. I have to say that it is a nice change of pace to have an entire day where is the sun is hidden from view and you can get just the slightest hint of fall. Yesterday, Joyce remarked how cold it has become—around a low of 72 at night—I didn’t know how to tell her that that is as hot as it gets in some places that I’ve lived, and in those places when the thermometer hits 50, you strip off all your clothes and worship the sun! God, how did I ever live in Michigan?

Kaia seems to enjoy watching the heavy rain. There has been this tractor making passes on the beach, picking up trash and rototilling the sand, for the past few days and, of course, he’s been loving that. A few days ago he woke up from his nap, in a semi-conscious state pleading to ‘see tractor, see tractor’. He can be very obsessive--in the photo to the right, he wondering "hmm, where IS that tractor?" But now that the weather has turned and I’m waiting for Noah’s Ark to appear, there are no beach cleaning tractors to be found. And while there are some determined Indians who will trudge through waist deep water to get from here to there, I think we’ll try to avoid the leptospirosis and enjoy some inside time.

Why I Love this Time: Playing ‘cooking’.

The Geography of Family and Friends

For someone still a few months from being 2½, Kaia has gotten around the globe quite a bit. He has dual citizenship and two passports for whatever the mood might be at immigration, and has already lived in three countries: we’ve been in India longer than he lived in the US and 14 months in Japan was sandwiched in-between. As a matter of perspective, one of my parents’ good friends (who must be around 60 years old) just got his first passport to travel outside of the US for the first time in his life! Generations apart, as they say.

Kaia has been privileged to meet and get close to people from all over the world during his first two years. Particularly from our time living next to the Asian Rural Institute (ARI) in Japan, Kaia became the loved nephew of so many aunties and uncles—Sister Edwin from Darjeeling, Amos from Ghana, Samba from Zambia, Ram from Nepal, Phoebe from the Philippines, David and Almut from Germany, Kimio and Hiroki from Japan, and on and on. These people have enriched both of our lives tremendously and we have very fond memories of our time together. So we thought it would be a nice idea to get a large world map so that he could begin associating places with our friends across the world. Of course, the concept of a world map is likely beyond his level of comprehension, but it seems like he understands the association factor. When asked, “where does Auntie Brynne live?” he points to the western US…or “where does Kaia live?” he slaps the subcontinent. Japan and island nations like the Philippines are proving to be a bit difficult, but it seems like he gets it.

One clear memory that I have of being 5 or 6 is how much I enjoyed going to the bank with my grandfather. They had this huge rotating globe (I think the place was called World Savings) and I would sit was watch it rotate while he tended to his banking. I can remember being so fascinated by the large expanses of ocean, particularly in the southern hemisphere (for that was what a 5 year old can see best from that height) and how Madagascar would come around, this large island floating independent from the African continent. I wonder, as he gets older, what features will intrigue him on the map. Madagascar seemed as far away as Saturn to me at that age, and I’m sure that if I would have been a bit taller, India and Sri Lanka would have piqued my interest as well. For me they would have been equally as remote, but for Kaia they are familiar places, and currently home. I wonder how this experience will influence his development and thinking. Now when he hears a bell in the distance, he knows that it is the ‘peanut man’ selling peanuts on the beach. Or, the drone of a man’s voice from the street is ‘paper man’ collecting recyclables from people’s homes. These are indicators to him that he is in a familiar and comfortable place. He looks out the window and sees men in carved out fishing boats, and this is what a fisherman looks like. I wonder, when we eventually leave India, how he will think when he sees it on the map…

Why I Love this Time: “Oh, what’s that?”

On Being Social

Every parent has those eerie moments where you see yourself in your children. Not just in subtle physical features, but in behaviors that bring back memories of your own childhood. Recently, Kaia has been reluctant to go to Kids Central, the simple mention of “Kids C” will usually spin off into a “bye-bye Kids C” mantra. It all started a few weeks ago when there was an event with the older children at the school and some kids were wearing masks that really frightened him. According to one of his teachers, when he saw the mask-wearing kids, he tried—as quickly as possible—to climb up on her head, much like a frightened cat. Ever since that day, he’s been waving it off from breakfast time until we get there. When I drop him off now, it is accompanied by much clinging and he’ll reach out to me crying as the teacher takes him off to class. It is never easy to have to deny your child when they are reaching out for you like that.

The funny thing is, and this is where the memories come back, is that he ALWAYS has a good time and is saying “Kids C is fun!” when I pick him up. It is a combination of being happy to see me and what he did, but recently he’s been also saying, “Kaia was crying” almost as if to ask himself what the problem was. Now this behavior is something that I can remember whenever my mom would force me to go to things that I really didn’t want to go to. I can remember birthday parties, summer camps, soccer practices, (especially) church, you name it—that I really didn’t want to go to and protesting hard not to. As an introverted person, social gatherings are not something that I seek out, I am very much unlike my mother in this regard. Anyway, those times that I took the step and ventured out, I would say that 75% of the time I had the equivalent “Kids C is fun!” experience, 5% if you looked just at church;) So I can empathize with Kaia’s pleads to ‘go home’ and ‘play with papa’ because those were places and spaces that I longed for rather than mingling with strangers. What I am already struggling with is just when I should heed his pleas and not make him go to something. The Kids Central call is a relatively easy one, but with other stuff it gets a bit more difficult. We shall see.

Why I Love this Time: The use of complete sentences is becoming much more frequent—and (on the opposite end of the grammatical spectrum) for the first time yesterday, he started to say ‘yeah’ instead of ‘yes’. I’d love to reclaim his resounding, formal “yes!” but hearing his first bits of slang is awfully cute.

Ayudha Puja

At this time of year in South India, there is no shortage of religious festivals and rites. Just last month we celebrated Ganesha Chaturthi and yesterday marked Ayudha puja, another interesting celebration. Sometimes known as Durga (a manifestation of the divine mother Kali) puja in the north, in the south they call it Ayudha puja, which marks the worship of whatever implements one may use in one’s livelihood. The ancient practice comes from Indian mythology where Kali slayed the Mahisahsura (buffalo demon) and other demons by Chamundeswari temple in Mysore, Karnataka. After doing so, it is said that there was no more use for her weapons, so they were kept aside and worshipped (sounds a bit like Narsil in Rivendell) and this has been celebrated for many centuries in India. The idea is to make a conscious effort to see the divine in the tools and objects that one uses in everyday work, and through this effort, it is more possible to see one’s work (or not) as an offering to God. As well, it is meant to help one to maintain constant mindfulness of the divine. In contemporary times, we don’t have swords and weapons to pay our respects to, but things like cars and more ‘tools of the trade’ like computers, cooking utensils, etc. Starting from yesterday, the streets took on a whole other visage with all the cars decks out in garlands and banana leaves. It is quite a sight to see.

So for us at home, we have been building our puja space to closely resemble a typical Indian home. Joyce is very religious, so she has been more than happy to help in this regard and she helps to maintain the area with fresh picked flowers and oil in the lamps. It is really beautiful and smells great. So, like with Ganesh Chaturthi,. We asked her and Sekar to help us observe the holiday and, like before, it was a very memorable experience.

After being here for nearly 10 months, Kaia and I are getting accustomed to the procedure for going to the temple and/or paying respects to the gallery of deities in Hinduism, but this does not diminish the curiosity that comes with each new celebration. Joyce gave Sekar a list of everything that he needed to get and he returned with full bags of this and that, and our favorite—fresh banana leaves (right). They then went on to fully decorate the puja area with streamers, flowers, fruits and powders.

Once the area was setup, Joyce went around the flat, putting dots of sandalwood paste and red powder on all of the things that we needed to honor on this day. This meant the fuse box (for the electricity), the cutlery and even Kaia’s motorcycle (left)! Sekar, meanwhile prepared the large green gourd for smashing outside of the home by cutting a hole in top, mixing in red powders and small change, and placing a cube of camphor on top. Kaia, meanwhile, enjoyed the poori mix while cruising around on his newly blessed bike (left).

Additionally, this day is also to ask for blessings in one’s studies—how every convenient for me. Along these lines, you need to bring all of your books and important documents to the puja space as well, for them to be filled with the heat from the ritual. This is what you can see stacked up on either sides of the puja area (right). After everything is setup and in its proper place, you light the oil lamps, start the camphor burning and ring the bell. Each person, in turn then pays their respects to the divine—even little Kaia, who now knows the prayer and bowing positions well. Let’s hope that my laptop got with the program.

Finally there is the adornment of the car, which involves a garland on the grill, flanked by banana leaves, sandalwood paste splattered all over, and limes to be crushed under the tires for good fortune. All cars should be so fortunate to have such décor, even once a year. I wonder if the accident rate in India goes down for automobiles on this day…

Why I Love this Time: Because we would never be able to have this kind of father-son experience in the United States…

Discipline

I am not good at disciplining Kaia. When the time is right for me to do so, I am generally too frustrated myself from his kicks and wails to offer any kind of level-headed, consistent disciplinary tactics. While his temper-tantrums have become more frequent and pronounced in recent days (largely due to him not feeling 100% health-wise), I have been feeling a bit more pressure to get him to understand that certain behavior is not so great. Of course, he’s not old enough to fully rationalize with, so this makes it very difficult and only adds to the frustration of being the person who is trying to calm down the raging 3 footer. There are times when he does little things that he shouldn’t do—like drawing on the wall—or dangerous things—like rooting around the electrical sockets where discipline isn’t so difficult for me, but its those times when the emotions are raging that keeping your head—so that your child doesn’t lose his—that I really struggle.

This morning was one of those times, when he wanted to rifle through the pantry (he was hungry and breakfast was late) and make a mess. This has been a constant problem for us, with his opening the refrigerator (sometimes we forget to lock it) and also pulling things out of the lower cabinets. Up until recently we’d been storing juice boxes down there, and it was a constant battle (even which ‘child proof’ locks, yeah right) with him opening boxes and drinking out of them (these are the large juice boxes, not the individual ones). Currently, there are 5 of such boxes in our refrigerator due to this habit. There should only be one. Anyway, he got really upset because there was nothing for him to eat (i.e. cookies that I had already stashed away) and began to arch his back and say ‘noooooooonoooooooo!!!’. I really hate these moments. First off, it is hard to keep holding him when he’s like this, and two, usually he slaps, hits or kicks you in the process. Often times, this means a launching off of the glasses. No fun. In these times, you can only just put him gently on the ground and hope that he doesn’t hurt himself. I waited a bit too long to do this and got caught by a left hook to the cheek, at which I raised my voice and said “KAIA—NO! Do NOT do that.” This, of course, didn’t help anything and just got him more upset. Kaia is a very sensitive child and takes it very hard when you raise you voice at him. Almost immediately, I knew that I had made things worse.

So eventually things calm down, he gets to eat and gets back to being himself. Me, on the other hand, I’m still feeling upset about how I handled the situation. As his parent, I should be in much more control over my emotions, regardless if he is flailing and whacks me. He’s only 2 years old and doesn’t know better. Teaching him to respond with raised voice and frustration is not acceptable and even worse than what he was doing in the first place. Hopefully next time, I’ll do a better job with my parenting….

Why I Love this Time: He’s now learned the right time to say “good morning, papa” and give a big hug.

Challenges

It has been a hard week. My wife went to Delhi for a 5 day business trip and Kaia got sick with the peak being a 39.5 degree (104+ in Fahrenheit) fever. Sleep has not been in high supply. I think that you recognize your growth as a parent when your children are ill. I can remember the terror I felt when Kaia had his first abnormal temperature, and how I freaked out when we first arrived in the dead of winter in Japan, had yet to register for health insurance, didn’t know of any doctors and just settling into a new home—and Kaia was really down with the flu. These were very high tension moments. Now if you flash forward to a few days ago, when the temperature spiked up and the little fireball was trembling and delirious, while here in India and his mother a thousand miles away. Now, if you would have presented me with this scenario a few years ago, it would have terrified me. My God—that high of a fever!?! In India?!? By myself?!? NO WAY! But after going through it a few times, trusting the wisdom of Dr. Sears, understanding that fevers are (in some ways) a good thing and need to be managed and not immediately eradicated, well, you begin to acquire some composure…just about enough to let your child know that they will be OK and to hide your own fear and silent prayer that everything will be fine. There were times when he was trembling that I thought maybe he had gotten malaria or some other funky infectious disease, but fortunately it looks like he’s going to be alright. He is still suffering from diarrhea, but according to our homeopathic doctor, this is a virus that is running rampant in the city right now. This little guy is really building up his immunities!

Why I Love this Time: Shirts with names “grandme shirt”, “surfer shirt”, “ant shirt”, “chickie shirt”, etc.

The Negotiation

Well, yesterday it started. The first of many more to come. It was, simply, Kaia’s first negotiation. We do not have a television here in India, but we do have a region-free portable DVD player which has come in very handy allowing up to seamlessly watch videos from the US, Japan and India. Aside from the extensive selection of pirated movies available here (which are more entertaining for their subtitles than the video camera work in the theatre), the VCD (video compact disc) market is both legal and contains a number of children’s programs (mostly from the UK’s Hit Entertainment and in British English, one more layer to further complicate his language acquisition) that would cost many times the amount to buy in overseas. For example, one Bob the Builder VCD usually has 5-6, ten minute episodes, and costs around $3.75. I think in Japan, you’d get 4 episodes and pay around $45 for the DVD—no joke. Anyway, as far as children’s programs go, Kaia can watch some shows commercial free, which is nice. As an aside, I was really bothered by the commercialization of PBS children’s programming—who do they think that they’re fooling with the not-so-subtle sponsorships in-between programs? Anyway…

Relatively speaking, Kaia does not watch many videos. While he can sit for a good hour or two, it is not something that he consistently pines for, or at least, if he does, he can be re-directed quite easily. Currently, I’d say that he watches about 45-90 minutes, once a week, which we have taken to calling ‘special video time’, and generally is late on Friday afternoon when I’m burned out from the week and need to bridge the gap until my wife comes home. He seems to understand this, but there are times when ‘special video time’ needs to rescue indiapapa.

One of these times was yesterday. With my wife currently in Delhi on business, and Joyce on vacation for the day visiting a temple, the routine was disrupted and I needed some downtime for myself. While there are other ways to do this, sparking up the video is path of least resistance—it is no wonder that so many kids spend the time they do in front of the TV. We recently bought a VCD from the Kipper series—a cute little dog with furry animal friends—and he had been anxiously awaiting his viewing time, so upon startup, he was locked in and motionless, sans the usual drool hanging from his chin. After the 45 minute video completed, I was ready to move on with him to something else and told him that the video was over. Of course, he’d have none of that and started in with his “more Kipper” mantra, which naturally was met with my, “I’m sorry Kaia, video time is over”. Now, at the same time that we bought the Kipper video, we also purchased a new Bob the Builder video. I guess that, once he realized he wasn’t getting anywhere with the Kipper angle, and he remembered that we also had Bob, why not give that a try. It was here that a lifetime of negotiation took its first step. The exchange went something like this:

Kaia: Watch Bob? Watch Bob?
Indiapapa: How did you remember that? No, Kaia. No more videos.
Kaia: Please papa…just one? Just watch one?

Now I know that the intentions are rather subtle here, but it was so funny to me that he was actually trying to bargain with me that I had to laugh. It seems like, as his language and development takes off, that there are lots of these moments where you cannot help but chuckle at the actions of your child. How did this little guy, who just a few weeks ago was saying ‘no’ to everything, now understanding the proper context for negotiation? I’m sure I’ll look back on this moment with nostalgia when he’s 13 and asking me to stay out just an hour later or 16 negotiating for the car.

Why I Love this Time: The little running posture, with the hands open, palms forward, and arms straight. Back slightly arched, and running on tip-toes.

The Club

Something that I did not expect to do when we moved here was to join an exclusive club. I had heard about the lingering vestiges of British colonialism here in Chennai, like the Madras Club, where elite gather to sip imported whisky and scoff at the imperfections of Indian life, and wanted nothing to do with it. Call me an ex-pat snob, but it has never been my interest to seek out fellow Americans when living abroad, although I would be lying if I said that I didn’t enjoy those few times when I have commiserated with fellow Yanks, particularly for the tips on places to eat and shop. But the kind of scene that I imagined at an elite club, in a place like India, was not something that I wanted any part of. The punctuated inequality, the attitudes, the arrogance—for someone who grew up in a southern California community poisoned by the exclusivity of ‘gated community norms’, this was something that I have been glad to forget. That was, until we moved to our place outside of the city and discovered that there was a private club within walking distance from our home—and it had a swimming pool. I guess, there’s something about a clean body of water in this blazing climate with a toddler that shifts the mindset just a bit.

The number of outdoor activities to do with a toddler in Chennai is not large. For reasons ranging from too hot to too unsafe to too many stray dogs, it is rare when you can find something that you can enjoy, and count on. When I found the Sindur Sea Club, and that they had an outdoor playground in addition to the pool, well, it made a lot of sense to join. The fact that it was right on the beach (although no beach access due to an adjacent fisherman encampment) and largely unpretentious, made it a surprisingly easy decision, especially once Kaia got a look at the property—open with patches of grass and lots of little elephant statues to ride on and play with.

While the club is open from 8am-11pm, most of the members come in the evening time. They show English, Tamil and Hindi movies on the weekends and lots of folks come for the open-air showings and enjoy dinner at the same time. Kaia and I, however, visit in the late morning, when there is nobody, except for the Sindur staff, whom we have come to know very well. There is Satish Kumar (like our old cat!), the General Manager of the club who grew up in Kenya, Shanmugam, the pool maintenance man, who keeps a great pool, Dinesh, the bar/game room person, with the 4 inch pinky fingernail, Padham (at left with Kaia), the young Nepali, Silvi, the cleaning woman with the distinct “Kaiiiiyyyaaa”, and on and on. Because, when we visit, we are generally the only guests there, it has become a very nice place to come back to each time.

Because we visit there 1-2 times a week, I have gotten to know a lot about people and, particularly, the work culture at the Club. What people have shared with me has been very thought-provoking. Here in Chennai, people are very open and informed about salary issues—what they make, what others make, etc. I was really surprised at how everyone knows (very accurately) what everyone else is making in the Club, something that is considered a taboo subject, or the realm of whispers and speculation, in most places I’ve worked. People were quick to tell me that the General Manager made 10,000 rupees a month ($230/mo appx) or that the Pool cleaner made 2,500 ($58/mo) for their full-time (50-100 hours per week) efforts. Below is a sampling of what they told me their monthly salaries were:

General Manager (10,000 rupees/$230)
Assistant Manager (6,000/$140)
Bar/Game room supervisor (3,500/$81)
Waiters (2,500/$58)
Poolman (2,500/$58)
Cleaning people (2,000/$46)

If you consider that, on a given day, there are about 3 supervisors working (restaurant, bar/game room, exercise room), 4-6 waiters, and 6-10 cleaning folks, that would make for a total monthly expenditure of around $1,400. That’s 22 people, full-time. And you wonder why companies—not to mention large corporations--come to places like India to set up their shops? I will not broach the question of exploitation here, but just say that these are considered to be low salaries for this kind of work here. Likely, many of these folks should be getting 50-100% more than they are earning at Sindur, and true to this point, there seems to be high employee turnover. But more than focus on the issue of comparing actual dollar amounts to, say, an American salary, consider them in the context of a living wage. Yes, the General Manager’s salary is terribly low—and should be about three times the amount given how much he works, but even at that ($690/month) it would seem low by American standards. Yet if you look at the cost of living for this person and his family, which according to him is about 8,000 rupees a month—and that covers private school for his children, rent, all food, health care, and even some savings—then the picture becomes a bit more clear. At 10,000 rupees a month (put aside for the moment that he’s working hellish hours and is away from his family for too long) he can save 20% of his income and be the sole worker in his family. For as far as our salary here takes us given the cost of living, in the US (where my wife would be paid the same amount for the same work), we can hardly afford to cover all of our expenses on her salary—forget the idea of putting away any money. It is a very interesting contrast—here with the salary, we live without financial care and in the US, with the same amount, as a family of three we are a precariously close to being a part of the working poor. Simultaneously we are experiencing the life of excess as a hyper-elite and contemplating the depressing future of working hard just to stay afloat. Something is wrong here.

Why I Love this Time: “See ironing man”?