Jan. 30, 1:18 a.m. EST – Full Wolf Moon. Amid the zero cold and deep snows of midwinter, the wolf packs howled hungrily outside Indian villages. It was also known as the Old Moon or the Moon after Yule. In some tribes this was the Full Snow Moon; most applied that name to the next moon. The Moon will also arrive at perigee (it’s closest point to Earth on its non-circular orbit) less than three hours later, at 4:04 a.m. EST at a distance of 221,577 mi. (356,593 km.) from Earth. So this is the biggest full moon of 2010. Very high ocean tides can be expected during the next two or three days, thanks to the coincidence of perigee with full moon. from Space.com
Buddhist Calendar Articles from Buddhanet:
[ INTRODUCTION • DAY • WEEK & FORTNIGHT • MONTH • YEAR ]
(From scriptural sources in the Pali Canon of Theravada Buddhism)
Anniversaries and Festivals of Zen Buddhism
Tibetan Lunar Calendar with Auspicious and Inauspicious Days
Gregorian-Lunar Calendar Conversion Table from the Hong Kong Observatory
4AM Indira Gandhi International Airport Delhi India.
Got through check in, immigration and security in less than an hour. Waited and walked for 2 hours. Bought a book. Checked email on the airport wireless network. A hassle to getting signed in. Needed my cell phone to get a text message with a password. Security issue. Need to know. Who’s sending what, when and where.
Plane takes off without incident. No fog delays tonight which is a relief as I can’t stay awake any longer. Just spent 10 hours on a road trip from the hill station down to the plains and into Delhi. Thick pollution haze as soon as we got below 2,000 feet altitude. Sugar cane crop is ready so the mills both big and small have fired up the machines to squeeze and refine the sugar. The chaff that isn’t going to be fed to cattle is burning in all the fields for hundreds of miles.
Lulled by the engine’s noise, for I am sitting over the wing, the unconsciousness of sleep takes over. I don’t even notice the landing, passengers disembarking and reembarking in Bangkok. A meal is presented. 5 hours into the flight and dawn is faintly glowing on the edge of the big ball of the horizon. An arc of dusty orange.
The movie between Bangkok and Hong Kong is forgettable or maybe I slept some more.
Hong Kong airport and looking for the transfer point for my onward flight. Caught in a line up at the security check. Waiting but not too impatiently. Over 2 hours to walk and stretch.
Next flight will be 12 hours in length.
Boarding is slow. I flash my frequent flyer club card to jump into the Business Class lineup even though I fly economy. Membership has it’s privileges. Or I’m getting cranky.
Adjusting seat belt. Getting settled. No one beside me so far. Wanting it to stay that way.
A family moves towards the 2 empty seats behind me. Parents and a young boy. They stow their luggage and the parents take the seats behind. The boy is beside me. He looks rather daunted. Or perhaps tired.
He’s a husky boy with a round face. He’s wearing Nikes or some similar brand, long board shorts in a camo pattern and a yellow t-shirt with a cartoon character I don’t recognize.
The shade over the window is closed.
The boy says, “Can you open that? I want to see the ocean.”
I oblige. He leans over me to look for a moment then settles back into his seat.
He pulls the controller for the entertainment system out from the seat in front. Pushing buttons. Puts the controller back. Puts the tray down. Takes the controller out again. Pushing buttons. Puts the tray up. Pulls the drink holder down. Pushing buttons. Plays a game. Checks what his parents are doing by peering between the seats. Takes a glass of Sprite from the server. Places the glass in the drink holder after a few sips.
I take a glass of Coke. I push the button on the controller to check the flight map. 10 hours and a bit left.
He says, “You can take that out you know.” Proceeds to disengage it for me.
“It’s OK there.” I respond and put it back.
“There’s games.”
“I know.”
A brief pause.
“Do you like peanuts?” he says.
“Yes.”
I turn my head towards the window and feign sleep. The boy starts a game and I do sleep for an hour or so.
When I stir to adjust the blanket the boy asks, “Are you going to have chicken?”
I am a little groggy and don’t quite know what he is referring to.
The meal cart is on it’s way down the aisle.
“Yes chicken would be OK.”
“I’m going to have fish.”
The server questions the boy first and sets up his tray with the fish entree. She informs me that there is no chicken left so I have the vegetarian pasta.
The boy lifts his entree in it’s aluminum dish and shows it to his mother in the seat behind. He says something else to her which I cannot hear and she leans over and takes a look at my pasta. I don’t know what she or her husband chose.
The boy eats the entree quickly. He passes the unwanted salad and appetizer back to his parents. He pokes at the gelled custard desert with his finger then takes a tentative spoonful. He passes the rest back to his parents as well. He keeps the chocolate biscuit.
I finish my meal a little surprised at my hunger.
Others settle in to sleep. I feel restless. I take the controller out of it’s niche in the seat and select a game to play.
“My mom likes Bejeweled too.”
“It’s fun.”
“I like this one.” He is referring to some kind of safari scenario that is on his screen.
“It looks good too.”
I switch from games to the pre-recorded television episodes available. CSI has 3 episodes so I choose one and settle the earphones comfortably. The program is short. No doubt trimmed for family viewing. I switch to news, flip through movies, comedy programs, other dramas. Nothing piques the interest. Back to the flight channel. Less than 8 hours.
I close my eyes again and try to sleep. I hear breathing close to my ear. I open one eye just a little and the boy smiles brilliantly.
“I knew you weren’t sleeping.” He laughs. He has little dimples in his cheeks.
“How did you know?”
“Because your mouth wasn’t open like before.”
“Oh.”
He leans over and looks between the seats back at his parents.
“They’re sleeping.”
A few minutes later I hear stirring behind. The boys mother gets up from the window seat, steps over the legs of the father and makes her way to the washroom. When she returns she unbuckles the boy’s seat belt and speaks quietly to him. He moves into her seat and she takes his.
She is a small woman and curls up into the seat like a seashell. I wonder how she can sleep with the pressure of the armrest on her back but she seems to be managing it. I check back between the seats. The boy and his father sprawl in a pose of deep sleep. I watch the last half of a movie.
I sleep for another hour.
When I wake up the mother wakes also. She uncurls from the tight position, stands and exchanges seats again with the boy. He’s not quite awake. His blanket has fallen to the floor. I pick it up and put it over him. He smiles a little then leans his head onto my shoulder and goes back to sleep. I don’t move for an hour.
The server brings a tray of noodle cups around in the semi-darkness.The boy has shifted as he slept and my arm is free so I take one and eat it with the chopsticks provided.
The boy is still asleep when they bring cups of water around. I take one for myself and one for the boy. I place his in the cup holder.
About 10 minutes later he wakes up and gulps down the water.
We both put our headphones on and start pushing buttons on the controllers.
He says, “Who are you?”
“I am Marnie” I reply.
“We are the Trans.” he says
“Nice to meet you Mr. Tran.”
He bursts out laughing.
“Mr. Tran is my faaather.” Had he not had his seatbelt on he might have rolled onto the floor he was laughing so hard.
Once he calms down a little he states, “I am 8.”
“That’s a good age.”
He continues the conversation, “Are you coming from Viet Nam?”
“No.”
“We were visiting my grand parents in Viet Nam.”
“Oh.”
“Are you coming from Tanzaneeeeeeah?” he said this excitedly and his eyes widen. Tanzania seems to be a very important place at that moment. The safari game may have mentioned Tanzania.
“No I am coming from India.”
“Did you visit your grand parents there?”
“No I visited some friends.”
“I have friends.”
“It’s nice to have friends.”
We both sit looking at our screens.
Mr. Tran says “Do you live in a house or an apartment?”
“Apartment”
“So do we. We live in an apartment in Edmonton.”
He continues, “Do you have a son?”
“No.”
We both look back at our screens for a while longer.
He looks at me from time to time and smiles. I smile in return. He asks more questions. I answer. I don’t ask questions. He tells me what he wants me to know.
The breakfast meal is being served. He eats the fruit and yogurt and hands the entree back to his parents. His mother hands her fruit up to him.
“Are you going to Vancouver?” he asks
“Yes”
“So are we. My mother’s sister is there. She has a son. He is my cousin. He’s older. But we play sports together.”
“I have cousins too. But I haven’t seen any of them for a long time.”
“Do you play sports?”
“Sometimes.”
We watch our screens as the plane begins it’s descent.
“Can you open the window?”
“Yes.”
“People look like ants from a plane.”
“I know.”
“Those are islands. Islands in the ocean.”
“Yes.”
“There’s a red car.”
“And a black one.”
“I don’t see any ant people.”
“We are still too high. We’ll see them in a minute or two.”
We watch. And see them.
1:30 PM Vancouver International Airport Canada
I am in the 3rd line-up from the left at the Immigration counters. The Trans are at the 5th line-up. They are ahead of me. They are going to the translation booth to answer questions and pass through quickly. I am in the line-up of the most thorough Immigration officer in Canada. I wait.
After retrieving my luggage I see them at the exit. Mr. Tran turns around and smiles as they go out the door.
It was one of those days when everything just sort of tensed up and I freaked out a little bit. OK I admit I was something of a jerk.
What led to this admission were numerous things. We planned to have supper at home but Manoj didn’t do the purchasing for it so we had to go out. Since we wanted to go to a certain Tibetan restaurant it entailed a bit of travel planning since cars are not allowed on the mall road until after 10PM and I didn’t want to wait that long. So we drove to Gandhi Chowk and had a hard time finding anywhere to park the car. Then we had to take a cycle rickshaw to Jhulaghar and then walk a bit. This was OK.
I was a bit tired and feeling a little tense since the carp etal were talking with someone about my religious practices. Some guy was upset that I did the puja thing at Ram Lila or that’s the way it sounded. He also sounded waaay drunk. So she was telling him we keep religious things in our house and I was respecting Hinduism-hey at least she sort of stuck up for me. He calmed down. I heard all this conversation before we left.
We got to the restaurant and the waiter was like in another world or something. We ordered a plate of the deep fried lotus root (my favorite) and two thukpa (soup). Then we ordered a coke and a fresh lime soda as well. He brought the lotus root and one soup. Then the drinks. We were waiting and waiting for the other soup and he hadn’t even written it down.
So finally we got the second soup and Manoj wanted to trade with me so I would get the hotter one. It is considerate but both were certainly hot enough. Then he wanted to have half my coke and for me to have half the fresh lime soda. And then as I was eating the soup he wanted me to have more lotus root. I was feeling like I was about 5 years old with all this attention to my feeding. I don’t know what was up with that.
So then we are trying to eat and this whole table full of Bengali people came in. A big family of 8-3 kids and the rest adults. As I ate all the kids turned in their chairs and stared at me. That’s fine I am used to that. Then 2 of the adults did as well. Now this happens in villages and stuff so usually I could ignore it. But these weren’t village folk. The ladies had on all western clothes in the latest styles and kids had cell phones and the whole bit. And mostly they were talking in English so likely they were from Calcutta which has thousands of foreigners. I started to feel like some creature in a zoo. And then they were passing comments about how I eat with chopsticks and stuff (that’s how you eat Thukpa soup as it has noodles and stuff) like I couldn’t even hear them. Finally I just looked up at them and said in a very nasty voice, “Can I help you?” The teenage girl turned back around shocked. All fell silent. Then I said “I am not here for your entertainment.” They all turned around and attended to their own food.
That is the first time I’ve had a bad reaction to this staring business. I would never be so rude to village people but these folks were educated and from the city and should have known better!
By then I was just feeling too pissed off to finish my meal so I put money on the table and left. I walked most of the way home from there as the damn rickshaw cycle drivers tried to charge me 40 rupees for the return trip to Gandhi Chowk when I know the price is 20. As we walked away they started shouting “30, 30″ but we kept walking. I didn’t want to go in the car so I kept walking almost all the way home (about 2 kilometers) and then Manoj caught up with me in the car and I took a ride when we were almost to home.
I just wanted to keep on walking to burn off the angry energy. Some days everyone just loses their cool sometimes. I’m no exception.
Anyways in the aftermath I am feeling more calm and real tired. I really want to move out of Mussoorie. I’m sick of all these gossipy idiots and gawkers. It reminds me of when I was married years ago to a well-known person. People would stare at us in Canada all the time and we even had people taking photos and stuff. It was horrible. But here I’m not famous-though since everyone knows I’m a writer that’s part of it with the locals. As for the rest I am just some weird white bird to stare at. Cultural displacement or whatever has gotten to me this time.
So for the first time in nearly 8 years I acted like a jerk. That’s plenty of patience I think. Will try not to do it again. Have decided not to go out to the main part of town for some time to come. I rarely go there anyways. Pretty much anything I need I can get here or when we go to Dehra Dun, where there are quite a few foreigners and much less gawking (though a little).
I feel like going home today. But I’ll wait on that for a while. Am going in less than 6 weeks anyways.
So for Divali we gave some sweets to the other folks who live in this 4-plex. This includes the landlord and his family, the downstairs neighbors who run the dhaba and Mr.BA and the Carp. I am now going to call Mr. BA the Grouse. So the Grouse and the Carp. I went into her shop and gave her the sweets and wished Happy Divali and she was actually speechless for like 5 minutes. So that’s the key! She wanted to give us some chocolate bars and such but we said that’s OK.
Next day evening she shows up at my door knocking. I was quite surprised. She’s never ventured up here before. She has a bag in hand and shoves it at me as she shoves herself inside my door. I had tried to keep the transaction at the door and the entrance but she wasn’t having it.
She brushes past me and goes into the dining room to have a look around. She is smiling all the way. I think she has waited 18 months to get a look at our place. Then on to the kitchen. She took a quick inventory of everything on the shelves. I was surprised she didn’t open the fridge but I was standing in front of it. Then into the big room which has the bed and television. She was most pleased to see Hindu religious pictures on the wall and an Om hanging in the doorway. I told her we have another room also but she seemed satisfied that while even though Manoj and I have this “illicit” relationship there is a place for God around that. We aren’t therefore totally hopeless. I think I mentioned that she yells at Shiva 2 or 3 times a day at least 20 minutes at a go while shaking a handful of bells like she’s trying to wake him up over at Kailash. (quite a distance from here)
I didn’t invite her for tea. She didn’t seem to expect it. She just left while all the information she gathered was fresh in her mind. Straight upstairs to pour it out to the Grouse and the Son. The whole layout of the place, what masalas were on the shelves, our brand of television everything. And we are not so rich as she thought as well. (gasps!) Though our whole house is very tidy.
So she hasn’t spoken to me since then though no doubt she’s told the other busybody woman a couple of shops down all about it. The Grouse has taken to waving and smiling at me now more than before.
I thought to thank her for the cockroaches but didn’t. Apparently they cleaned their place (finally) and we had an invasion of their zoo. At least 4 species of cockroaches, silverfish, sow bugs (aka wood lice), spiders, earwigs, centipedes and other things I couldn’t identify. They came in waves like they were storming the beach. Of course they did this in the middle of the night and I woke up when one fell on my face from the ceiling. They were only cleaning with brooms so of course they were only stirring these things up. In the middle of the night I spent about 2 hours with a flyswatter just hammering all these things. Had half a dustpan full.
Next day I sprayed our rooms down with pesticide. (not my favorite thing to do but I don’t like bugs in my mouth when I sleep thanks) Oh but they kept coming though. The spray would knock them down and the floor was crunchy for a few days. Then a week later they decided to spray their place. Again the onslaught. I got another can of spray and did all the areas where I saw them coming through cracks or crawling.
Well it’s after Divali and we still get a few but they are from the room where the landlord keeps his stuff. I don’t think he’s going to spray it.
But the cold nights are starting up so that’ll kill them. They come into our rooms because it’s warmer and then they walk across the sprayed areas and are done. It’s been a fight with these things.
I am going to encourage the Asian House Shrews, which are insectivorous,( the little creature I accidentally killed a few days back) as I think there is another one in the ceiling. It’s a wooden false ceiling and that’s where most of the bugs come through. And if it comes inside I will be more careful not to kill it but just shepherd it out into the landlords storage room to take care of things there.
Anyways not much else. A stupid new driver got the truck into an accident which entailed me and Manoj going to Dehra Dun a whole bunch of times to get that fixed. Pain in the ass. With this restriction on getting building materials from the river bed construction has fallen off here and many of the good drivers have gone elsewhere for steady work so Manoj is only left with hiring the cream of the bottom of the barrel. Will be so happy when we sell that truck-it’s been a headache from the beginning. Everyone wants credit, drivers don’t show up or steal the money for the loads or get drunk before work or all kinds of crap. And all of it is always someone else’s fault. Sometimes men just need to grow up a little and take responsibility for their own lives and actions. Not only in India but everywhere is this kind of shirking. Arrrggghhhh! Boys will be boys even if they are over 40! That’s sad.
Divali is the festival of lights to honor the goddess Lakshmi. Here are some photos from the evening. We had a good meal. Lots of sweets. Glad I was feeling OK by evening. Had a fun bout with Norwalk virus-if you’ve never had it don’t get it! for about 24 hours previous to the evening.
Here’s our steps all lit up with candles and diyas to welcome Lakshmi for prosperity and wisdom.
Here is a diya-oil lamp that is traditional.
And here are some of the fireworks we lit off for the evening. We’ve cut down our fireworks by about 80% due to pollution concerns and the noise factor. A lot of other people also have and instead are going for more diyas and colored lights in and around the house instead.
NellaLou
dianediary
