Guess what I found!

Hubs and I were talking about how to carry money in India, should I take a purse, should we get a money belt etc.  Hubs did some digging and found a little pouch thing (not a fancy pack, but approaching it) and I said "If you want something like that, why don't you take your green one, it's slightly larger."  Hubs of course gave me a blank stare, so I when upstairs to the exact place I keep the luggage and thus easily found his dark green pouch.

I brought it downstairs to hubs wondering why it was so heavy, and opened it up to see what was inside.  I found a bunch of suitcase locks (now we have more than enough) and some rupee coins, but in the big pocket I found 1000 rupees and... wait for it.... HIS INDIAN PASSPORT!

YES, this is THE Indian passport that we spent a day shuffling back and forth between lines at the Embassy trying to figure out how to get a PIO card without!  Oh my, it gave me such a giggle, I had to share right away...

3...2...1...

So it's the night before take off and all through the house
I'm scurrying to pack all our stuff, with a huff and a puff. 
Hubs is napping on the couch without a care in the world...

This picture is the "to pack" pile without everything we are still using like toiletries, lovies (blankies and stuffies), my own pillow (my lovie), and of course the potty that we are still employing.  (Note to self: wash potty really well, then pack it in the suitcase without my stuff).  Today was the do everything we haven't done/thought of yet while we have a couple of hours of daycare left.

My dad has made sure to remind me 20 times to not be late.  We have a plan in place, we meet at my Aunt's to leave our car, then my dad will drop us off at the terminal and he will go park the car at park and fly then meet us back at the airport to check in.  He's definitely not running on IST (Indian Standard Time, 2-5 hours late) and likes to not only make sure we arrive 3hrs ahead of take off, but to factor in time for everything to go wrong.  Our flight is at 5:30pm, so if everything goes perfect and we don't need the extra time we will be at the airport ready to check in at 1:30pm.  Did I mention that we are taking our two year old and nap time is 12:30 - 2:30?

Hmmm, maybe now is a good time to write a disclaimer for my possible future actions....

Instead I tell you this little story my sister (Sally's mom) told me.  Her kids (ahem, husband) were complaining about having to visit my parents before they left for India.  To get them to go my sister said "What if Grandma and Grandpa's plane crashes and they die a horrible death, you'll never see them again!"  Then she looked over and saw the sickened looked on Sally's face...

Well, Happy Holidays to all, which us luck on the journey and if I die in a horrible plane crash tell my friend, family and book club that I love them all!

The Unerwear Understanding

So a week and a half before we are to leave on our trip, Poohpers randomly says to me "No Diaper, Underwear!"  10 days, before we will spend 48 hours in transit this kid wants to start potty training.  Not months before, not weeks before, DAYS.  48 HOURS OF TRAVEL!  AHHHH

I tried to stall her by telling her "When we come back from visiting Ajima you can have underwear" but then anytime you mentioned Ajima she would yell out "UNDERWEAR!".  Which is a little awkward when Ajima is on the phone and you say "say hi to Ajima" and Poohpers just yells "UNDERWEAR!"

I though I had gotten away with my defferal, but the sheets from daycare started coming home saying "peed on potty" instead of "wet diaper".  Plus Poohpers started taking off her own diapers and running around camando.

So six days before we leave the daycare and I had a little chat and decided to try to potty train her before the trip.  I ran out that night bought a travelable potty to take to India and 16 pair of itty bittty undies.  Well, Poohpers was in heaven the next morning when I showed her the undies and new potty.  (Note we already have the seat that fits on the big toilet and a throne of a potty)  She gladly donned the undies and proceeded to start using the potty every 20 mins.  The first day was very good with very few accidents.  The second day was great, with only one accident when she was terribly upset at me for sitting in the wrong spot on the couch three times in a row.  Then she was refusing to pee more than once an hour.  We even got to a point when she would say "No Mama!" and slam the bathroom door in my face if I tried to help her go potty.  The third day we even went out in public with almost no accidents (a little squirt on the way home). 

At noon on the thrid day we need to take a 2 hr car trip to visit friends and family before our trip.  I pulled out the brand new pull-ups.  Fearing that she would refuse these "diapers" I told her they were special underwear for long car rides and plane trips.  She flat out refused them.  I distracter her with lunch as I frantically tried to figure out how to get her into the pull-up without force.  After lunch I just layed it on the line.  "Time to put on the Pull-ups"  Apparently my wording was just off, because she smiled and started chanting "PULL-UPS!  PULL-UPS!" as she eagerly put them on.  She even left them on as we went from house to house visiting people.

The next morning to my surprise underwear was met with resistance.  "You don't want to wear underwear?" I asked in shock.  "No, PULL-UPS!" she proclaimed.  So, basically we are back in diapers, but now they cost about twice as much as regular diapers.  It was a good 2 1/2 days, but maybe it's all for best, she always refused to poo in the potty and that stuff is disgusting to pick off underwear...

Commuters diarrhea

Now that I have a toddler and live in the suburbs, I typically work from home.  About once or twice a month I have to drive into the city for meetings.  Well it just so happened that the day I was to take my first installment of travelers diarrhea prevention medication, I also had to drive into the city. 

Not really a big deal, I just had to get up a little early so I could down my dose then sit with Poohpers and Hubs as we over-enthusiastically said MmmmMMMmm after every micro sip she took till she was all done.  It even tasted better than I though it would.  Easy peasy right?

Wrong.

About a third of the way through my 1 -1/2 hour commute I started to feel a little rumble.  It was just a little, slightly uncomfortable rumble, but my brain went on high alert.  I figured it was best to just keep driving, and take the gamble that I would make it to work okay. 

I tried not to think about it too much as I started to sweat.  Speeding down the freeway all I could do was to be hyper aware of the up coming exits and which ones had easily accessible bathrooms.

The closer I got to work, the more the rumble grew, the more I started to worry.  Was the point of this medication just to clean out your entire body so that there was nothing left to create travelers diarrhea?  Was I to be an empty shell for the next two weeks?  And how soon could I achieve this now desirable emptyness?

Well, finally I made it to work, and fortunately for me (unfortunately for my sadistic readers) I made it to the bathroom without running, and I fared better than the imaginary scenarios in my head.  AND the added bonus was that little Poohpers who took the same medication, and is still in diapers, was at home with Daddy, not me.

Broken Breakdown

So we are getting closer to our trip, and the more things I cross off our "to do" and "to buy" lists the more I begin to contemplate the trip in a more philosophical way.  Instead of asking myself "what can we die from?" and "how many chocolate bars is enough?" I begin to ask myself "Can we afford to eat when we come back?" and "Am I BLEEPING nuts for taking a two year old on this trip?"

Hubs and I are routine people, we will admit it.  We are the slow and steady people, our romance blossomed at school when we were the only people working on our projects every Saturday morning at 9am.  You are welcome to call us lame, we can take it.  Consequently, our little spawn Poohpers also loves her routine, and we spoon feed it to her willingly.

Some of you might not know, but toddlers go through a "broken" phase.  What happens is, if things such as cookies and toys are in imperfect condition, they throw fits and cry, and refuse to have anything to do with the offending object.  Recently we have entered the broken phase.  Mostly it's been funny because Daddy is the offender.  Can you believe he had the nerve to actually CUT  a piece off the ginormous salad roll to give her?  Or the fact that he stirred her yogurt INTO the lentils!  Obviously it called for a major breakdown.  But this morning when we left to walk to daycare, I have the audacity to walk through the building and out the other door!  (Hey, it's friggin cold outside!)  Well, this extra 2 mins of warmth for me resulted in a 10 min walk to daycare with a screaming, crying toddler.  How dare I break with routine.

This is what leads me to question my sanity.  Maybe taking Poohpers to visit Ajima when she was only two months old and I didn't know what I was doing as a mom, and we could both die horrible, painful deaths from crazy diseases, wasn't actually such a bad idea after all....

If using a different doorway causes a major meltdown, what will throwing the entire schedule out the window for 36 hrs of travel do to this child? 

Or maybe the better question is; what will throwing MY entire schedule out the window for 36 hrs of travel with a two year old cause me to do to this child...

Bambino Vino

So the other day I did some first-aid travel research and came to the conclusion that people should not travel.  Actually, I made a list of possible medicines we might need and ventured out the the local drug store to pick up the supplies.

Well I came home with a stack of medications we hope to never use and $225 less in my bank account, and a list of more things we might not need, but really should buy.  $225 for all the crap in the picture that we are hoping goes completely unused and the most depressing part is that delicious chocolate in the photo will never reach my mouth.  It's part of the "gifts" to be given to relatives.  $225 dollars for basically nothing!  Well, at least my teeth will be clean.

I of course blame the short dictator that lives in our house.  Being completely responsible for a relatively helpless person makes you prepare for such a journey more thoroughly, in essence, it makes you paranoid.  Every bottle in the store that said child on it is now in my possession.  I am prepared to hold off death for a few days should our typhoid treatments not work.

In this large stack of drugs, er medications, was one we had never used on Poohpers, Motion Sickness Liquid.  Now Poohpers so far hasn't had any problems with motion sickness, but I have heard from my friend well versed in motion sickness that it has the bonus side effect of drowsiness.  I know this sounds bad to purposely drug your kid to sleep, but I figure it's a good tool to have in your back pocket if you are crazy enough to take a two year old on a seven hour flight followed by a nine hour flight, that is followed by a short sleep before an eight hour car ride.

I have heard that some kids get hyper instead of drowsy from motion sickness meds, and I am always cautious of side-effects with new medications so I figured half way across the Atlantic ocean stuck in a metal pod in the sky was probably not the best time to find out what kind of reaction Poohpers would have.  Today we gave the medicine a test ride.  Obviously nothing happened right away, but within the hour she was running around and shrieking like a mad woman.  We were beginning to think it was making her hyper so Hubs decided to take her to the park.  While getting her outside coat on, Poohpers started to randomly fall over and as they went to walk out the door Poohpers was a little slower and less excited as usual, but kept a good pace as Daddy held open the door for her and she walked right into the wall beside the door.  Her poor little legs and arms kept going in her effort to reach the park.  Once we composed ourselves (hey, Poohpers was finding it quite entertaining too!  Well, she was smiling like she was finding it entertaining) we concluded the medication was working!  The nap time revolt was also very brief today and the nap itself lasted almost twice as long.  Yeah back up plan for flight number two! 

Hmm, maybe I should give myself a test run...

What to wear...

One of my greatest passions is packing.  Hubs and I always laugh that I "get to" pack for him when we travel.  So obviously what to wear has been on my mind since we bought the tickets over six months ago.

Hubs is from a small "town" (a mere 900,000 people) and so the people and customs are more conservative there.  For the last six months Hubs and I have been having a reoccurring disscussion on what I should wear.  Now Hubs HATES these conversations that go around and around and so he kind of mostly doesn't participate in them, which leaves me confused and without an answer and so it comes up again...... and again.... and again....  Lets just say we were lucky we had a girl or Poohpers might still not have a name.

I will summarize the last 6 months of conversation for you.

Me - What should I wear in India?
Hubs - Wear whatever you want.
Me- Really, cause I emailed your sister and she said I should dress Indian.
Hubs - Well, you really should dress Indian.
Me - So what would that be?
Hubs - You know, what Indians wear.
Me - Like a Sari?
Hubs - No, young Indian women don't really wear Sari's anymore.
Me - Okay, so I should buy those tops/dresses things?
Hubs - Yes.
Me - I can buy them in Salem right?
Hubs - No, you should buy them in the city, they will be more stylish.
Me - So, we are going to disembark from the flight and go shopping right away?
Hubs - No, there won't be any time to shop before we go to Salem.
Me - So I should buy outfits in Salem.
Hubs - No, they won't be stylish, you don't want to buy them there.
Me - So should I buy them before we go?
Hubs - No, that doesn't make sense.
Me - So I should wear western clothes for the first week and buy those shirt thingies when we drop my parents off at the airport in the city?
Hubs - Yes.
Me - So for the first week, what should I wear?
Hubs - Wear whatever you want.
Me - Okay, I'm going to wear something I already have until we can buy something in the city.  What about shorts?
Hubs - No, shorts aren't appropriate.
Me - Okay, what about this skirt? (models skirt)
Hubs - No, that's too high school.
Me - Too high school?  What do you mean.
Hubs - That it's too high school.
Me - Okay, what about this skirt? (models another skirt)
Hubs - Yeah, it'd be okay, I guess.
Me - So it's not too high school?
Hubs - No.
Me - Okay, so what's the difference?
Hubs - This one is longer, I can't see your knees.
Me - Okay...so I should wear pants?
Hubs - Wear whatever you want.
Me - Can I wear this?
Hubs - No.
Me - Should I buy some khakis or cargos? Is that too casual, seems casual to me.
Hubs - I don't think people will have an opinion on what you wear.
Me - Maybe I'll go naked.....

Typhoid Poohpers

So one of the needles we need to get before going on our trip is a typhoid shot.  Because this is me, going to an exotic country, all typhoid vaccines are either recalled or back ordered till January (after the trip is over).  My mother expressed concern over this and I said I was seeing the doctor on Wednesday, I would ask her about her opinion on the situation and what our options were.

Well the time between when I talked to my mom and talked to the doctor my parents decided that if we go to India without the shots, all of us ARE going to get typhoid and we are ALL going to DIE!

So after double checking their cancellation policy my mom called one morning as I was busy at work and told me if I didn't get a typhoid needle into my daughter's arm by sundown they were cancelling their trip.  After the brief daydream of the ease of leaving three white bread people behind, I was forced to abandon work and phone every pharmacy in Ontario...

I phoned every travel clinic in the area (these people hoard needles like this from regular pharmacies) only to discover that if I want to own that million dollar condo across from the ROM one day I just need to open a travel clinic.  I particularly enjoyed the lovely conversation with the dingbat at the one clinic.

Dingbat: I can book you on the computer, so we can vaccinate you against typhoid.
Me: Well we need to get the dead virus needle because it's for a two year old.  This is very hard to find, can you check that you have it?
Dingbat: No, I don't know that, but I can book you on the computer, so we have Typhoid vaccine and that will be $85.
Me:  I don't want to take the entire day off work to drive to another city to pay $85 to see a doctor if I can't get the specific vaccine I need.  Will I get my money back if you don't have it?
Dingbat:  (in offended voice) No! You will already have seen the doctor by that time and have used up his time, so of course you can't have your money back!
Me:  So can you check that you have the vaccine I'm looking for?
Dingbat:  The computer says I can book an appointment for a typhoid vaccine, so we had typhoid vaccines, what day would you like to come?  It will be $85 each to talk to the doctor.
Me: click.

Another stellar business was the doctor that personally talked to that told me to get the typhoid/Hep A combo shot, it was perfectly safe.  This seemed weird as we had just got our Twinrix shots, so I phoned and asked my doctor and apparently that stellar doctor was trying to kill us.

The best though was when I discovered the Little Britain "Computer Says No" character works at a pharmacy here in the city where I live!  I wasn't sure if I should be laughing or crying.

Finally an hour into the search I found a pharmacy that had the vaccine!  I rushed over after work with my prescription only to discover that my prescription was for the wrong brand of typhoid shot.  You'd think if there is more than one company making these things someone would at least get it right?  Luckily I had explained everything to the pharmacist and she processed the vaccine for me, called my doctor's office and had the prescription changed for me.  Within the week Poohpers had dead typhoid swimming in her veins, and my parents calmed down long enough to get that dead virus into her and we are all still going on the trip!

Shhh, don't tell my parents, but as of today I'm still on the death list (note to self, phone doctor to change prescription to typhoid pills), but I figure that's okay, Hubs is going to die too, as he's skipping all the needles.  He figures he's had all the diseases already and then MUST be immune right?  Which reminds me, I sill have to phone about a will.....

a thousand bucks

So I thought it might be exciting to give Sally 1000 rupees instead of $20 Canadian for her birthday.  Little did I know that my sister had been schooling her on the worthlessness of 1 rupee compared to $1 Canadian.

I excitedly watched her open her card and go "yeah." like I had gifted her a pair of dirty underwear.  Me: It's a 1000 dollars!
Sally: meh
Me: Aren't you excited, you can spend it in India, it's got Gandhi's picture on it!
Sally: (gives me that who is Gandhi and why would I care look)
My Dad:  Let me see, that's cool!
Sally: Wait, how much is this worth?
Me: $20
Sally: (face lights up like a Christmas tree) I got $20!

So much for impressing her with all those zeros....

The Visa saga...

So apparently you need a Visa to enter India.  Hubs says this is because India say "we have to pay to visit your country, you have to pay to visit ours!"

I will warn you now, this post might get confusing, I'm still trying to figure it all out....

Hubs has decided to get a new "Person of Indian Origin - PIO" Visa which is good for 15 years instead of the regular 6 month Visa.  First he wanted all of us to get one, but I though it might be good for me to give India a go first before we fork out three times the cash each for the PIO.

We bought our tickets back at the beginning of March, and I've been "gently" reminding him to apply for the PIO since.  I say "gently" because I TRY not to be the nagging wife, as to my success, you'd have to ask him.  Well, finally mid September my "gentle" reminders prompted Hubs to suggest that I go ahead and start the application form for Poops and myself.  Well, shortly after combing through the jumble of information we realized that Poops and myself could not apply until Hubs had not only applied for, but had the PIO in hand.  But at least, this motivated Hubs to take a day off work and apply for the PIO and of course, catch a nap after mailing it.

Five weeks of waiting patiently by the mail box and the expected package arrived!  Hubs opened it with excitement only to find the entire application still in tack with a yellow post-it note saying he needs to surrender his Indian passport.  Simple enough right?  Wrong.  Hubs became a Canadian Citizen in 2004, and in 2006 he went to visit his family in India, traveling on his Canadian passport with an Indian tourist Visa.  To get the Indian Visa at that point in time, he had to surrender his Indian passport, but of course no one gave him any documentation of him surrendering his Indian passport, and so lies the problem.

We decided with the time of departure nearing it was best for all of us if we just apply for the short term Visa.  In recent years the Indian Consular has contracted out their Visa applications to a private company.  Looking at all the documentation on line the information stated that because Hubs was an Indian citizen and we were going to visit family we would all need Entry Visas instead of Tourist Visas.  We went online, filled out the forms, and collected all documentation needed, finally we had an application ready to go!

Wednesday we both took the day off work, and traveled through prime-time morning commuting traffic to the East side of Toronto (we live in the suburb of the suburb of the suburb to the west of Toronto).  Over an hour and a half later, we arrived at the office to apply for Visas, only to discover that it was an Indian National Holiday!  Office closed.  Hubs say, we will come back on Saturday, I pointed out that that Saturday was also some kind of National Indian Holiday.  We begrudgingly drove home defeated.  Hubs had planned on napping the rest of the day away, but I think my "I'm just ready to leave you behind and go to India without you" speech on the car ride home inspired him to go to work and we returned the next day, even getting up at 5:30 am (wtf!) to help beat some of the traffic.

Thursday, after our hour and a half drive through traffic we arrived back at the office glad to see it was open.  Not so glad to see it was already full of people.  Sally Sunshine would point out that we at least got seating for the next hour and a half as we waited our turn.  We were also happy to have gotten up at the crack dawn because by 9am (the time we arrived the day before) they were so full, they were turning people away at the door.  Finally it was our turn!  We submitted all our paper work to be check and the women at the desk of course asked for Hub's Indian passport...AHHHHHHH, we explained the situation and she say "okay, we will just put you down for a tourist visa" changed the form, and ta-da!  simple as that we were done!  In about 6 business days we should have our passports with Indian Visas inside in hand.  Ah, the simplicity of privatization!

Well, the masochists inside of us decided hey, it's only 10am, lets take a trip to the Indian Consular while we are here and see if we can find Hub's Indian passport!  Yeah!

So off to the Consular for my first "real" taste of India.  The office was a stuffy box complete with metal detector and grumpy guy demanding my cell phone.  It was fun however to see the look on his face when he saw my "flip-phone", somewhere between disbelief, disdain, and absolute mockery.  Then we were not allowed to ask anyone question but only to line up in the never ending line.  I do have to say, everyone we met in this line and the next four lines we were shuffled back and forth between for the next three hours was really nice.  Finally, we got our answer about Hub's mysterious passport:  "We don't have it, why would you give it to us?  You can try applying with this paper (gives us a surrender sheet) but basically you are screwed.  Good day".

So, we are getting our Tourist Visas in about 6 business days.....

The First Post!

Well, here it is, my first blog post about our trip to India this Christmas.  I figure things will be pretty slow at the start, but that I will eventually bumble into enough entertaining stories to post.  If not, I can at least post interesting pictures.

I will now introduce the main characters.

Me: white on the outside, brown on the inside.  Born and raised in small town Ontario.  I tend to bumble my way through my life in a charming way that entertains those close to me.

Hubby:  brown on the outside, white on the inside.  Loves his Indian food, loves his family, but loves the brooding grey environment of his adopted Canada.  All around great guy, which prompted some of my contemporaries to ask the "obvious" question if he was marrying me for citizenship.  The answer is no, he was Canadian before he met me, he's just apparently odder than he seems.

Daughter:  "Poohpers" a nickname that evovled from my husband's need to call everything cute "poo poo" much to my mother's chagrin.  Will be turning 2 during our visit to India where she will meet her Ajima for the first time.  We haven't decided if she's white or brown yet, but so far she's leaning to the toasty side.  She speaks Daddy's native tongue, loves Indian music and Indian food, but is a huge baby when it comes to spicy hot.  If anything remotely medium in spice touches her tongue she points at it and cries like a baby.  Consequently, she eats a lot of yogurt.

My Parents:  White bread as they come.  To their credit they are world travelers and have traveled more and farther than I could ever hope to, but for this trip, food will be the most interesting (ahem, entertaining) part of the trip.  My mother is more adventurous than my father, but I'm pretty sure Poohpers get's her spice tolerance from my Mom.  The "aroma" of spicy makes her break out in a sweat and gasp for water, Water, WATER!  My dad is the traditional meat and potatoes kind of guy.  Coming to our house for dinner gives him anxiety.  My Mom told me it took her years to get him to eat rice because he insisted that it was a desert.  Think "rice" pudding.

The Niece:  White bread third generation.  "Sally" has just turned 11 and actually asked to come on this trip with Grandma and Grandpa.  She was the only white person (I don't count) at our wedding that wore a sari.  I think it will be a good trip for her BUT she finds EVERYTHING disgusting.  She can't bring herself to sit near or even look at our messy daughter when she eats, instead she hides and repeats ew, ew, ew to herself.  I think her eating habits align with my Dad.  She is also the much loved "baby" of the family and knows how to work this angle.  Also, she's second thinking even coming on the trip as I've informed her about the immunizations needed.

Hmm, there isn't really anything else to add, other than my Mom is planning on bringing an extra suitcase entirely filled with granola bars......