Hyderabad--Day 5

It was hard to communicate with our kids back home while we were in India, primarily because of the 12 and 1/2 hour time difference. (At one point, as we were discussing this with some locals someone said that they had gone a half hour ahead of Pakistan, because they didn't want to be in the same time zone as them. And in the next city, one of the local team said that Hindi used to be the default language for people who didn't speak the same native tongue, but that now English was, because they speak Hindi in Pakistan.)
Our phone provider didn't have international service, or at least not affordable service, so we only called them through Casey's computer when it was early morning for us and bedtime for them. When we called Meredith and Rosalie at Jenny's house, they told us we needed to come home now! And Jenny sent us a letter they had written us.

You can tell who is the most upset with us for leaving. We knew it would be that way.

On Friday we told Anthony we wanted to go to the mall. We still wanted to see shops where the local people shop. He said yes, but he wanted to take us to one shop first. It turned out to be the most expensive tourist trap shop yet. Really, Anthony?

In this shop they showed us more carpets, more carvings, more jewelry, and the most intricately embroidered Pashmina shawls ever. Done with magnifying glasses, only 3-4 hours a day because the work is so exhausting. We admitted they were beautiful and didn't even ask how much they cost. If you have to ask . . .
A lovely elderly woman brought us water in glasses. We didn't have the nerve to ask if it was bottled. Gracia sipped hers carefully. I was thirsty and drank almost all of mine. This after Anthony had told us to leave our bottled water behind as we were exiting the car.  Bossy. 

Jeweled compact cases. Tried to capture the Hello Kitty ones. Failed.

When Anthony dropped us off at the mall, he told us to go straight to the Hypermarket. Finally, he got our shopping style--this was the Walmart of India. Super cheap kurtis, leggings, etc. Leggings in India are extra long and bunch up around your ankles. I wish I'd bought some to go with my turquoise tunic so that the mosquitoes couldn't have bitten my legs as easily. I bought a short tunic/shirt for myself.

After that, we looked around the mall a little and decided we were done. Gracia was thinking it would be fun to walk back to the hotel on our own, since we knew we were close, when Casey called us and asked where we were. Turns out they were also at the mall, having lunch with their coworkers at the food court upstairs. (The mall was four stories tall, because land is hard to come by in Hyderabad.) So Gracia and I went upstairs and saw them just long enough for them to help us order lunch from an Indian fast food joint, and give us directions on how to walk back to the hotel. 

I called Anthony to tell him not to come back for us, because we had met up with the guys at the mall and he could just go and pick them up and not worry about us, because we would already be at the hotel. I didn't directly tell him that we would be walking back, because I knew he wouldn't approve. 

On our way out of the mall, we got sidetracked by another store that was a little more expensive than the Hypermarket, but still pretty cheap. I bought Clarissa a couple of cute modern shirts there. I paid extra for a carrybag (10-15 cents.)

Then we walked home. We followed the instructions Manju had given us, and tried not to feel nervous that the "immediate right" was impossible to take for the first half mile. It was hot, it was smelly, and we felt conspicuous. But it also felt like being there for real, instead of insulated in our air conditioned, chauffeured car (which, frankly, was sometimes too chilly.) 

We'd been told to stay on the footpath=sidewalk. It's made out of textured cement tiles. The traffic in this part of the city isn't bad at all. The whole area is nicknamed "Cyberabad" because of all the IT companies that are based here. Our hotel was in a semi-enclosed area called Hitech city.

We took pictures of us walking in India. I wish I'd gotten a picture of the green-sari clad women doing groundswork. The only time you ever saw two saris that looked the same was when it was some kind of uniform.

Anthony called us about now to ask where we were, as he was waiting for us at the hotel. 

"Don't pick us up, go get the men at the office." 

"Where are you?"

"We're on the road to the hotel. We're walking. We're almost there."

"Okay, fine." click

Me to Gracia--"Ooooh, we're in trouble . . . !"

This made us wonder, is Anthony liable for us if he doesn't drive us everywhere we go? Can't we just be in charge of ourselves a little? 

When we got back to the hotel, we had to change out of our sweaty clothes and wash our stinky sandals and feet. There was some kind of fertilized water on the footpath at one point. 

Then Karunesh and some of the other co-workers took us to Golconda Fort. If you've ever been to Europe and gone to see a ruined castle, it was a lot like that. Except that all around the fort, there was an absolute warren of tiny shops, winding streets, and crowds of Muslims--Men in white, women in black (over their bright clothing, which is for private viewing only.) We barely squeaked in before they closed the gates of Golconda at 5:00 p.m. 

Once we were in, a guide took us all over the extensive enclosure and told us about the engineering and history of the fort. 

Outer wall

Main gate

Detail of decoration on main gate. Very little of this decorative detail remained in the fort as a whole. It must have been amazing in it's heyday. 

The engineering of this open chamber is such that if you stand right below the center rosette and clap, it will echo all the way up the hill to a guard station at the highest point of the fort. This let them signal when visitors or invaders arrived. After we made it to the top, they demonstrated this for us. It wasn't super loud, but then, they wouldn't have been surrounded by a city of 3.6 million at the time. 

Soldiers' barracks and clerical offices

Gardens

 A view towards the tombs of the Shahs that built and lived in Golconda fort.

Another view of the same, showing some of the city that has grown up between.

Behind me is a small private mosque built by the Shah. There is also a small private Hindu temple. I'm wearing the shirt I bought at Hypermarket.

This was the building at the very top of the hill the fort was built on. This chamber was the place for the most secret meetings.

The fort was built around these enormous rocks. Rocks like these were visible anywhere there was open ground inside the city of Hyderabad. I wondered how they got so rounded--round rocks mean they've been tumbled down a river in my experience. But that couldn't be true here. Then I remembered Victoria telling me that her Geology professor in college told them the cause of any kind of erosion is always water. So here on this ancient hilltop, that can only mean rain. A lot of rain.

Golconda was the original name of the fort, and the settlement around it. Later the city was named after the current Shah's favorite dancing girl. Then she converted to Islam, changed her name to Hyder, and the city was renamed Hyderabad. 

Note the princess dress on the little girl. This was standard for the female children we saw. But we didn't find out where they sold this particular style of finery. Only silk and embroidered children's clothes that were too expensive for souvenirs. Or the cotton kurtis, which we did buy.

We went back down the hill a different way than we had come up. This is "the king's way." It was steep, uneven, and slippery. Hardly the kind of stairs you'd expect a king to have to walk up.  And then I realized, he probably got carried. Our guide later told us this was indeed the case. Short slave in front, tall one in back on the way up--to keep the chair level--and reverse on the way down. Do it right or heads will roll. . .  

One wall of the harem

Another example of the acoustical diamond arches

Just as the sun set a noise of raised voices could be heard from outside the walls of the fort. It was prayer time.

A five hundred pound weight for the purpose of measuring grain. Our guide told us they had slaves capable of lifting this. How many popped disks have resulted from this little tourist exercise?

And then our guide told us it was time for us to give him a tip. Gracia and I had no idea how much was a good amount, but what we gave him apparently wasn't enough and he told Gracia it was too small. So we gave him some more. It was very uncomfortable. The whole tipping thing is pretty weird for me at the best of times.

Then we sat down in the lower courtyard on folding chairs with a crowd of other tourists to wait for the light show. But first a man went around the area with what looked and sounded like a leaf blower, but which spewed a thick, stinky smoke all over. Probably for mosquitoes? It completely engulfed us and took a few minutes to dissipate. We pulled our shirts up over our faces and wondered which would do us more harm, the mosquitoes or the smoke. I wished I  had a dupata (the coodinating scarf they wear with a kurta and leggings) or sari like almost every other woman there.

When it was fully dark they started the show. Basically they lit spotlights of various colors on different walls of the fort as a narration related some key points from the history of Golconda, including some music and poetry composed by one of the princes. At one point, Casey looked around to discover that Dan, Gracia, and I were asleep. I tried to stay awake, but it was warm, dark . . . 

It was pretty late when we got back to the hotel that night. Casey and I split a sandwich that we ordered through room service and then went to bed.

Hyderabad--Day 4

Our driver, Joseph Anthony: His unusual name, for an Indian, is probably because his family has been Roman Catholic for generations. (There is a tradition of changing your name in India. Gracia and I were told by Heenu, one of the team from Chennai, that women often changed both their last and first names when they got married, to show their willingness to start a new life with a new family. But now that documentation, especially for passports and visas, has become more of an issue, they rarely change their first names anymore.)
Anthony spoke excellent English, but still probably understood less than he seemed to, as we did have a misunderstanding or two. Of course he spoke the native language of Telangana (the state Hyderabad is in)--Telugu--and 3 or 4 other state languages well enough to get by.
Anthony could be a little bossy, and a little moody. At one point during Thursday, he stopped talking to us and would only nod or point. Gracia and I still don't know what we did to deserve that. (Maybe it's because we had expressed an interest in seeing his church, which he said was beautiful, but then didn't follow up on it.)
Anthony told us his favorite breakfast was dosa. So I looked around for it in the Westin Hotel buffet, and found a station where you could order one made fresh.

The condiments are ginger chutney, tomato chutney, can't remember chutney, spicy cabbage chutney, cabbage chutney, and curd (plain yogurt.) You can get it plain, or with variations like spiced potatoes inside. (Masala dosa) I love this stuff. Oh, Westin Hotel breakfast buffet . . .

Anthony has two sons, one in university, one in high school. He works 12-15 hour days every day to support his family. He drives a two-wheeler for about an hour to the office where he keeps the car. Sometimes he sleeps at the office.
He calls his wife, "my pumpkin" because she is round like a pumpkin. She is also Roman Catholic, as are his sons. Anthony says his boys spend 5 hours in church every Sunday. His wife's parents are both deceased, as are his.
Every two days, Anthony has to refill the water cistern at their house from the public supply. We saw a lot of huge water trucks driving around the city. Some were leaking pretty fast.

So, on Thursday, we asked Anthony to take us to the Salar Jung Museum. When Anthony dropped us off it was nearly noon and he told us we should get inside as fast as we could to see the clock chime. We didn't make it, as we had to go back to the ticket office to get a pass for taking photographs.

Cool things about the Salar Jung Museum: It's the third largest national museum in India. It is filled almost entirely from the personal collections of the Salar Jungs, essentially the Prime Ministers of the area--but the post was hereditary. It has collections of art and crafts from around the world, including jade carvings from Japan, Italian marble sculptures, and the aforementioned clock from Great Britain.
But one of the most popular exhibits of the day may have been Gracia and myself. As far as we could tell, we were the only non-Indians in the museum, and at least 5 different people asked if they could have their picture taken with us.

After looking at this photo, I realized I really need to move to the back of group pictures. Also, people had a hard time using my camera to take photos for me, because everyone in India has a smart phone. Service is super cheap, so why not?

This could be the boring part, but here are some things I took pictures of at the museum:

 Ganesh, son of Shiva and his wife, Parvati. From what I heard, he's everybody's favorite Hindu god.

 Some kind of hippelegryph? I love it.

We saw a lot of figurines like this. Who wouldn't want an extra pair of arms?

 The most intricate folding chairs I ever saw.

A somewhat ironic use of an elephant's tusk. 

When our eyes and feet were tired enough, we went to the gift shop. Gracia was hoping for a postcard to send to her grandmother, who collects them. They were out. It was the end of the fiscal year and they were trying to clear stock, so they hadn't ordered replacements for anything for a while. We still had fun shopping through their stuff, because there were lots of cute cheap things like leather coin purses in the shape of elephants, etc. In fact, elephants were represented in art and crafts more than any other animal. And yet, we never got to see a real elephant. 

Anthony called us again, to see if we were done yet. 

We were hungry, so he took us to a restaurant where they didn't speak much English, but we managed to order some good food anyway. And got too full, as usual. (I ordered Butter Chicken, and Gracia did, too. The waiter said something to the effect of, "no, you should order this and then you can both share." We nodded. The other thing was really good, too and the receipt said it was Murgh Zafrani.) The restaurant was called The Waterfront, and it looked out on the lake that divides Hyderabad from its sister city, Secunderabad. On the lake is a statue of Buddha. The lake is man-made and was built in 1562.

Next we went to Charminar--which means "four towers." It's kind of the iconic symbol for Hyderabad. it stands in the middle of an intersection of streets, a little like the Arc de Triomph. And all around it is a huge, bewildering street market, with more stores in the buildings behind. It was too intimidating for me to want to get out, and besides Anthony said no. But he did stop a few streets away for me to buy Anika a pair of slippers from a tiny box of a shop, and he even helped translate for us.

On the way home we passed a government building with a huge statue of Gandhi in front. He is also on all of their paper money. 

Anthony then drove us to pick up the men from their office. For all the traffic is so crazy in Hyderabad, it never seems to get over about 40 mph. Inside the parking garage for their building, he was finally able to get up to speed.  

Karunesh took us all out to dinner at a Mexican Restaurant. Yep. The poster on the wall was of a tall, dyed-blonde Indian woman wearing a sarape patterned mini-dress. Trippy.

Almost every restaurant we went to was attached to a hotel, including this one. Unfortunately, there was a birthday party going on outside around the pool and the music was so loud, every time someone opened the restaurant door we couldn't hear each other talk. Casey had chipped a tooth, or lost part of a filling, and I was still full from our late lunch so we just shared a chicken burrito. It tasted pretty close to the Mexican food we get in the States, except that the sour cream was just plain yogurt. 

One thing that kind of threw me while we were in India was the different body language for nodding yes. They nod side to side and it confused me. I'm sure my up and down nodding was equally disconcerting to them.

Hyderabad--Day 3

Some of Wednesday's breakfast

For the next three days--Wednesday through Friday--Casey and Dan left around 9:15 to go to the office and train the Indian team. Gracia and I would go shopping or to see sites.

We had gotten on the internet this morning to look up things to do. We didn't want to give our driver any more vague directions and end up at another tourist shop. So we told him the first thing we wanted to visit was Birla Mandir, a Hindu temple on a hill overlooking the city. Anthony said no. Really, he was pretty bossy sometimes. He said that it was too hot to go there, because they would make us take off our shoes and walk up barefoot. We never did get around to trying to go there in the evening.

So then we asked him to take us to Shilparamam--a local fair for handicrafts.

At the Shiparamam Crafts Village--Statue of Ganesha behind

Turns out this was the "night market" he had wanted to take us to the evening before, when we were too tired for more shopping. Hardly anyone goes there in the day, because of the heat, apparently. Really, it wasn't that bad and I kind of got the idea that we westerners are regarded as pretty feeble specimens.
The problem with it being very uncrowded at this morning hour was that every shopkeeper we passed by had nothing better to do than try to entice us into his stall. (The shops were all just boxes with open fronts under a common roof.) "It doesn't hurt to look! I give you special discount--first customer of the day!"
We ended up telling several shopkeepers that we had just gotten there, and would be back after we looked around more.  They didn't believe us, even though we were sincere to begin with. I actually felt bad about not going back to one of those shops where they were selling embroidered leather slippers--Anika had requested a pair and this was the best pair I ever ended up seeing, but also the first pair, so what did I know?

Gracia found a shop that sold saris but the owner didn't speak English. Luckily, a very charismatic scarf stall owner we had spoken to just down the row came and translated. She ended up getting three very pretty saris for about $22 each, which was a definite improvement over $140 each.

 Then that same helpful guy took us over to his cousin's stall to see pashmina scarves.  They call them scarves, but really they are shawls because they are so large. People wear them in cold weather like a coat. We never saw anyone wearing one in India, because March is the start of the hottest time of the year.

This stall owner reminded me strongly of my brother-in-law Clint, except for his coloring, of course. Funny enough, his paler skin, lighter hair, and freckles actually made me think of him as a red-head. I had expected that going to a place where everyone has dark hair, eyes, and skin might make it hard for me to see the people as individuals. Instead I was impressed by how different they looked from each other.

They brought us chairs to sit on and offered us tea. We exchanged brief explanations of our religious backgrounds, arising from the fact that we don't drink tea, and then he proceeded to educate us on the history and value of Pashmina scarves. (In case you want to know, only the finest hair from the belly and tail of a very special goat gets to be called Pashmina (pash=fine, mina=wool) and only the very finest hair from the chin of said goat gets to be called Shamina (shah=king, mina=wool.) 

It's waterproof (water beads up on the surface.) It's so fine it can fit through the smallest ring (except for these scarves are too large to show that.) It is very lightweight (true.) He showed us a special one that was made by his grandmother using a technique she invented and for which she was given an award by the president (unconfirmed.) Eventually, Gracia bought that one and a couple others, besides.

I ended up buying a carved wooden elephant for Meredith, and nothing else.

While we were there, some men with a camera and microphone tried to get us to record a segment wishing everyone a happy Ugadi (the local New Year/Spring celebration.) They didn't speak much English, and we didn't speak any Telugu, so that was pretty awkward. I hope they gave it up, otherwise I think we will have badly represented the people of Utah on local Channel 1.

Then Anthony called and wanted to know how much longer we were going to be. We told him 45 minutes and hurried around trying to see the rest of the place. I'm pretty sure we missed a lot of it.
There are so many beautiful crafts that they are known for in India. It made me wonder, what do tourists buy when they come to the U.S? Cowboy boots? Junk food?

Leaving Shilparamam. Note the big screen TV behind me in the thatched roof hut.

We joined up with Casey and Dan and one of their coworkers, Sunita, to go to a regular shop where Indian ladies would go to buy sarees. She brought her mother-in-law and they started showing us the kind of fancy, $100+ saris that we had seen before. I tried to indicate that we wanted something that was not silk, so they showed us the super fancy cotton saris. Eventually, we wandered upstairs and found some tunics to buy.

 Holding the kurti that I bought. I'm an extra large in Indian kurtis. I loom over most of the women and I had to have them let the sleeves out for me. They provide free tailoring in this kind of store. And many of the sleeveless tunics come with a pair of short sleeves attached inside in case you want them added.

 And just as we were leaving, I finally found the cheap saris.  Like $10 cheap. I bought a couple. I wish I'd bought more.

Me, Gracia, Sunita's mother-in-law, and Sunita. Sunita bought herself a couple of nicer saris while she was there.  They take the extra fabric at the end of the sari and make a blouse out of it for you. I didn't have that done, since their blouses are not something I could wear. You see a lot of midriff in India, and no one thinks anything of it.

Then we all went back to the hotel for dinner at their buffet. It was good, but not as good as their breakfast buffet. Did I mention that the breakfast was complimentary?

The view from our bathroom through the glass wall into our bedroom. They gave us two full size beds instead of a king. 

Our hotel was built around a central courtyard from ground floor to ceiling. When we first walked in in the middle of the night, it felt like being at the bottom of a well.

Hyderabad--Day 2

Casey's Indian coworker and regional manager, Karunesh, called us around 9:30 to ask when we wanted our driver to come. So we woke up, got dressed, and looked out our windows and balcony at the city of Hyderabad. It was warm but not humid, so the clothes at the top of our checked bag that were damp when we unpacked had dried overnight. (They got wet in the Seattle rain, we assumed.)

First impressions--What is that giant cement mushroom? (It looked bigger in person.) Later our driver told us it was a disused water tower. We saw several.

Casey noticed that the hotel groundskeepers were cutting the grass by hand with clippers.

And then we went downstairs to breakfast. Oh, Westin Hotel breakfast buffet! Where have you been all my life and how will I live without you?

Just some of the bakery items at the Westin Hotel Buffet--new varieties daily

There were two hundred choices for breakfast--at least. Some of them were Indian, some Asian, some European or American. It was such a fun way to start the day! This began our experience with India's high level of service--there were always people waiting to help you--make you an omelet to order (or French Toast, or Dosa (a new favorite)), open the door for you, find you exactly what you were looking for in a shop, even if you were just browsing and didn't want to commit--sometimes it was overwhelming.  But as far as the food went, I loved it. Out of the four of us, I definitely had the most enjoyable time trying new foods. In fact, the only times on the trip that my stomach rebelled were two times that I ate a granola bar that we had brought from home.

On our first full day in India, Casey and Dan didn't go to work. The four of us piled into the car with our driver, Joseph Anthony, and he took us to a pearl shop.  I got the seat in the middle, without a seat belt.  Anthony insisted that was okay. But after a brief experience with Hyderabad traffic, I insisted that was not okay and we dug the belt out from under the seat.

Hyderabad Traffic--"Honk Please"--This was painted on the back of many of the vehicles we saw in India, especially large ones like trucks; as if anyone needed encouragement.  This seemed to be the equivalent of "Coming Through!" and since no one paid much attention to lanes, the honking was constant.  At least half the traffic was "two-wheelers,"--motorcycles or scooters.  It was common to see four people (usually two adults and two children) on a two-wheeler. Someone said they saw one with six but the most I saw was five. And they drive on the left, which should never happen to anyone.

Hyderabad is known as "Pearl City," not because they gather them there (it is located in central India, far from the ocean) but just because it's been a trade center for pearls for so long. We had been warned by Karunesh to pay less than half of the asking price for any pearls we bought, but I found it difficult to navigate the process of bargaining while feeling like my spine was collapsing from jet lag. I came close to buying a strand of silver-grey pearls, but in the end we bought one pair of earrings, and took pictures.

Gracia, on the other hand, got right down to it. She has 7 children, most of whom are married, and several grandchildren as well. This amounts to a long list of presents.

Then Anthony took us to our first tourist trap shop. There seems to be some kind of symbiosis between drivers and this kind of shop--we learned to recognize them pretty quickly. For one thing, they had every kind of traditional craft--carpets, wood and stone carving, shawls, saris, papier mache, jewelry--and they would lead you from one kind to another while plying you with bottled water. They also offered tea, which we declined.  For another thing, the things at these shops are expensive! Thousands of dollars for carpets, hundreds of dollars for shawls, etc.  We left the first shop fairly quickly, but not before Gracia made Dan sweat by seriously considering a carpet.

It was around 3 in the afternoon when we decided we needed lunch. We had heard that we should try Hyderabadi Biriyani. So Anthony took us to a restaurant called Paradise. Casey, Dan, and Gracia ordered Chicken Biriyani, and I ordered Butter Chicken so Casey and I could share. The Biriyani was good, but the Butter Chicken was better--both were very spicy. That was the spiciest food I remember eating while we were in Hyderabad. As in spicy hot. There were other things we ate that had more spices without being hot.
There was way too much food for the four of us.

Then Anthony took us to another tourist trap shop!

Several of my culture lessons on India came through the process of listening while Gracia was instructed in the history and value of traditional crafts in India from silk carpets to Pashmina (and Shahmina) scarves. Shopkeepers could tell that she was the one to talk to and maybe, if they kept talking long enough, she would feel the need to possess an heirloom quality item representing a dying craft that took centuries to develop and was only made in this one place by a few remaining families. (Personally, this kind of talk turned me off wanting to buy them--I don't need the stress of trying to care for something so valuable.)
Gracia had promised her daughters-in-law a sari each, and she negotiated for some at around $140 a piece but didn't close the deal.  I considered some child sized pashmina scarves (the "international size" was just too big for my taste) but in the end we bought nothing. This being my first trip to India, I didn't really know the value or even the variety of things available, and I was hesitant to get started.

It was getting dark as we left the shop and we were seriously lagging so we went back to the hotel. Casey and I skipped dinner and were in bed pretty early. I had only two meals a day at least half the time we were there--usually because we had overeaten on on one or both of those meals.

For the next four or five nights, I would wake up pretty regularly and then lie awake after 4:00 a.m. I got a lot of mileage out of some audio books on my phone--Thank you Jane Austen, and L. M. Montgomery.

Hyderabad, India--Day 1

The last time Casey went to India (March 2009) I didn't go with him for several reasons--young children, finances, etc. But I promised myself that if he went again, I'd go, too.
Dan Taylor, who works with Casey, and Dan's wife, Gracia, went with us.

We left home on Sunday at 8:00 a.m. We got to Hyderabad, India on Tuesday at 3:00 a.m. (28 hours of travel time!) Much as I love to visit new places, I wish I could skip the process of getting there.

First leg--Salt Lake to Seattle: ~4 hours--It was raining in Seattle. I needed a nap.

(Note--I accidentally turned on the date stamp on all the pictures we took for most of the trip. And it was set at lowest resolution because we had been letting the little girls play with it. No photographer, me.)

Second leg--Seattle to Dubai, United Arab Emirates: ~15 hours--The flight plan shown on our individual screens showed us going up over the Arctic circle. Casey and I were in business class seats for this long leg of our three flights.

Emirates airlines treats its passengers very well. The flight attendants wear red caps with sheer scarves attached and they bring you three course meals, snacks and drinks, and even a thin mattress to put on your fully reclining seat. (Unless you're in economy class, like Dan and Gracia.  Don't worry, they'll get theirs on the way home.)



When they darken the cabin for sleeping, the roof has tiny purple pinpoints of light like stars. I think I got more sleep on the plane than I did the night before we left home. And when we were awake, we browsed through their huge selection of movies and TV shows.
Dubai Airport has huge triangular windows of frosted glass that arch up and inward from the ground to several stories overhead. It was dark, so we couldn't see the city outside with its enormous buildings.

There were, of course, lots of high end shops selling duty free goods, and I looked around while stretching my legs as we waited for the flight to India.  At 8:00 p.m local time, a man's voice began a high singing prayer call that echoed through the airport. There were signs indicating rooms set aside for prayer. And of course, the default language was Arabic. It felt otherworldly.

Third leg--Dubai to Hyderabad, India: ~4 hours--I only remember being glad when we finally arrived. It was still night time, and felt like it had been for days. We still had an hour and a half to stand in line at customs/immigration and security. We also had to change some money so we could tip our drivers.

How we looked is how we felt--difficulty focusing.

The airline provided each couple with a driver to our hotel. We checked in at 5:30 a.m. and went straight to bed.

Talk like a pirate and eat donuts day

Mark your calendars for next year--September 19th is talk like a pirate day! And if you also dress like a pirate and go to Krispy Kreme donuts, you can have a dozen donuts free!
5 dozen donuts is a lot of donuts.

Anika Fair

It's been such a long time since I blogged. My children are complaining.  There is so much to catch up on that it seems overwhelming to start.
I've decided to do a post on each of my children, summarizing a few things that have happened to each lately.
This is a mommy blog.

Anika turned 16! She dates, she drives, she went to Homecoming.

 She borrowed the dress from a friend and her aunt Rebekah did her hair and makeup.  Low stress,  unlike the rest of her life.

Her backpack contains her entire course load for each day--her locker is in a back hallway and is too far away for her to get to between classes.  Her back hurts. She leaves before the sun comes up and stays after school to practice for pit orchestra for the school musical.  She needs more sunlight in her life.  She is tired.

BUT! She is a straight-arrow, straight-A student,  a good friend (who wishes her friends would stop dating each other, breaking up, and ruining the group dynamic), a great help, and all around awesome person. 

Before the end of the year she hopes to: take the PSAT and kill it, be the best flautist West Side Story has ever heard,  get her braces off (fingers crossed, but not her bite, not anymore).