Our Automobile Adventures

Where automobiles vanish into thin (and pretty smelly) air.

Cuz' we've been hit by the Repo Man (uh, men).

Yes, readers, it seems our Deeksha car, complete with car seats and the various tidbits of our daily driving lives was reposessed en route from Palm Meadows to the Target office by 3 large and assuming men on motorbikes.

Upon calling the driver (we have a substitute because Raju was in a motorbike accident...) Bob was informed, "Sir, yes there is the car troubles." (Breakdown? Blown Tire? Keys locked out? Theft?) Bob, confused, is relieved to have Abhi at his side to translate the configuration of events.

Apparently our car lease company leases cars from private owners who do not own the vehicles they are leasing. Apparently, said "owner" has relinquished his right to pay his auto loan...

In the words of Grayce..."why, Mom, is this soooo foolish?"

That is, indeed, the question of the hour.

Apparently...

The Fischers in India

The Things on Owen's Mind...

"Mama, mama, mama. I was jus wonderin...why is water, why is it soooooo WET?"

"Mama, can you tell me...when we are dead...are we like statues?"

"Did you see? Did you? See me doin' all those neat twicks?"

"I don't like you, Mama. I don't like you any mo! Grrrrrrr" (insert door slam).

"No kissing Daddy. Mama! I want to gwow up so we can get mawwied and have a famiwy of ow own!"

"Mama, I onwy want to dwaw...I don't want to do any of dose MESSY TINGS!"

"I'm not eatin' dat, dat's YUCKY. But mama, you know, mama, I just don't YIKE it"

"Der are mummies all around Pawm Meadows, and dey are invisible and we aw settin' up some booby twaps to catch 'em."

"I wished we neva twaveled...neva! I wanna see my famiwy but I don't wanna go to Minneawopis cuz it's toooo FAW! But I wanna go to Singapo(re)...can we take da bus?"

Owen Fischer

Expat Boy in Bangalore

Easter (yeah, yeah...that was last month, I know)

The Easter Jail..."why, why, why, won't they let us ouuuuttt?"

Ooo, ooo, I see one!

Release the Hounds... (er, easter egg hunters, that is)


Following the fab Easter Egg Hunt extravaganza hosted by fellow Target expats, Amber and Abhi Hedge, the Target Expat Children made their parents go to the Taj West End for an Easter Champagne Brunch. We met up with at least 20 of the childless Target expats and their invited guests... but we fed the oversugared Easter Goblins, first!


Silly Grayce, Ella the Balloon Girl (aka our friend Ella) and Owen (I swear it's water!)

Owen, "Glitter Boy"

Our pal Caden... We're going to miss you! (Caden's expat assignment is coming to an end and he will be returning to Minnesota).

Kay-Kay and Zachie take a spin on the "merry-go-round" at the Taj Easter Brunch

Our Favorite Easter Girl!

Me, Tracy Murphy (of LoudAmericans fame) and Angela Miller (Caden's mommy and a WacMiller) sippin' a little of that champagne...

Another Minnesota expat friend...Zach... He's leaving India in June and we'll miss him, too!

Our friend Cody at the Taj Easter Brunch...he's probably being an Easter Power Ranger??

Hope you all had a Good Easter, too!

The Fischers in India

Colorful Pictures in March...

St. Patrick's Day Green

Owen's first Holi... He was s-o-o-o excited to spray colors everywhere!
The Queen of the "colorful" pout!
Vimala comforts a tired, soaking wet Owen after the Holi Festival party
Daddy and Owen...

Where was Mom? Out having lunch and jewelry shopping with a friend!

The Fischers in India

Lackadaisacal Blogging, Our Pregnant Cat and the Fischer Military Academy For Children...

It occurred to me yesterday, that I'm not doing such a hot job of keeping the blog updated. I am sure that my basic laziness has nothing, whatsoever, to do with it. I want you all to know that I blog *all the time* in my head (which hasn't exploded yet, despite a rich and sometimes confusing inner life.) What, you say? You want me to allow you a ring-side seat at the circus of my subconsciousness? Glad to have ya'... Afterall, what fun is a blog if all you can *see* is the crusty outer shell? Everyone knows that the gooey center is the best part of any candybar.

Strange things go through my brain. Which is probably why I blog in fits and starts. My internal editor is a weird little dude... which is probably the reason I still have friends, but you're all so far away now...and I must confess I occasionally hold *real* conversations with many of you, in which I imagine what you might say.

me: "hey, want to meet somewhere for coffee?"

you: "oh, yeah... which of 137 choice coffee destinations with safe, clean and kid-friendly surroundings, do you want to meet at? 129 of those serve organic scones and 68 of them are next to parks where children's eyes are not easily gouged by PLAY ground equipment. Oh my, so many choices... What to do?"

me: "we could meet for wine and cheese, instead."

you: "Great idea. Do you want to check out the new Wine Bar, or should we go to Lucia's or Beaujo's or The Riverside Cafe or just stop by Surdyk's and pick up one of several thousand choices and head on over to that great park? Hellooooo. Are you still there? Is something wrong?"

me: (sniffling) "I can't make it, I live in India."

you: "Gee, that's too bad. "

Call this the "Friday Stream of Consciousness Report"...

I'd like to introduce you all to our cat, Ellen Degeneres. Ellen does not seem to mind that I am ferociously allergic to cats. Nor does she deem it at all important that she is, in fact, not a member of our family. She thinks nothing of walking in our open door, loudly mewing for food and is not affected by the number of times we shoo her out. I remind her daily that we are a DOG family and that she is a STRAY cat, but she pays me no heed and I find her asleep on the porch chair most mornings.

When we moved into Palm Meadows, the kids noticed the cat and 3 kittens playing on our narrow strip of grass (can't call it a yard, that's for sure) alongside the house and decided to name her Ellen Degeneres...(which made me wonder if they'd been watching Lifetime: The Channel for Women whilst we slept, but I digress). I warned them...don't touch the cats, don't feed the cats, it's okay to watch them but they aren't pets...

It's not that I don't like cats. I had a cat that birthed kittens under the covers at the end of my bed one night when I was 5. I have known and admired a cat or two as an adult. But they give me hives and make my tongue itch...so there you have it.

The kids have listened well but Ellen hasn't. And she's taken a great liking to ME, of all people. I'd kept my word about not feeding her and for about a month she stopped coming around but it didn't last. And then, one day a couple of weeks ago, I happened to look out the window to see a very pregnant Ellen struggling to upend our garbage can...and I thought of the leftover day-too-old-to-eat shrimp in our fridge and I caved. Now Bob is accusing me of midwifing the cat but, hey, NO pregnant woman should have to stuggle that much for a meal!

I'm thinking of bringing her to the vet to get her spayed after this litter...then maybe those over-sexed stray Tom's will leave her alone... She's not my cat, though. I swear.

On to another subject that's occupying my mind space these days...

Homeschooling! (Trumpet Blaring.) Yes, it's true, my conversion to Crunchiness is complete. I am a Homebirth Midwife student, I didn't circumcise my son, I drink raw milk (but not here), I do weird food things, like soak my grains and have seizures at the mention of High Fructose Corn Syrup, I breastfed both my children into adulthood (ok, not really, but you'd think by that by the reactions of *some* who saw me nursing my three year old,) I know how to make tinctures, salves and potions... the list goes on but I won't bore you with the details. No need to worry though, I still like to shop for shoes, really love expensive leather handbags, get my legs waxed and and my feet pedicured, beg Bob to carry home "People" magazine from his U.S. work trips, enjoy fine wine, like to cook with fancy-schmancy ingredients and continue to wear lipstick and mascara on a regular basis. I think it just goes to show you that labels suck...

I'm also a "to each her own" kind of gal. Which means that my way is the right way but if you want to do it *your* way...

No, no, no. I'm kidding. What it really means is that I used to have Hippies for parents and the apple doesn't fall as far from the tree as it thought it flung itself. Which in turn means, I do it my way and YOU do it yours and "judge not, lest you be judged" and all those harbingers of Peace and Tranquility in the World. And I'm still a really nice person and we still get to be friends and I promise never to badger you (unless you voted for Georgie, Porgie, Bushie, of course...then all bets are off.)

And what it really means is that we're going to be Homeschooling. Which was always *something I was interested in but never imagined myself doing* (which, consequently, is pretty much how any of it happened). Sometimes, cracking that door, leads you down a surprising path...like, maybe, to...India.

The kids are on summer break now but check back for more "Homeschooling Fun" and perhaps I can help by answering the varied and sundry questions about whether I'll go more insane than I already am, whether my children will develop anti-social twitches or begin muttering to imaginary schoolmates (oops, they already do that...cross that off the list!) and last but not least, "how they'll learn anything if they don't go to school."

If you've made it this far...

Thanks for tuning in!

The Fischers in India

Happy Birthday to the Amazing 4 Year Old!

Owen is officially "4"...an age when I am informed that he is "bigger than ever!" Given that he asks me 37 times per day to feel his muscles and bones so that I can be astounded by their awesomeness, it shouldn't come as a surprise that he wants to "be a Super Hero when I gwow up." He would also inform you that he is "such a good awtist" and recently that he won't be eating candy anymore because "vegebells" are better for you and that mommy should stop putting sugar in her coffee ( and what? Stir in the string beans?)

He is delightful and funny and he almost never stops to breathe while talking.... "mama, mama, ya know mama, ya know I can wide my bike REAAWWWWYYYY fast and ya know mama, I wike Supaman and Spidaman and, and, and Ultwaman, alot, lot, REAAAWWWWYYYY alot..."

He learned to swim the first day of swimming lessons and he has this terrifying habit of disappearing under the water and trying to hold his breath for as long as possible so that I'm always jumping up to make sure he hasn't drowned...

He is obsessed with "Hot Wheels." But he will still dress up and pretend to be a princess if his sister asks him to.

Owen is pretty happy in India but every once in a while, he will get very crabby and say, "I want to go back to Minnesota, Mama!"

He has our maid, Vimala, wrapped around his finger and frequently orders her to bring him chocolate (it's appalling and it drives me crazy but she just laughs.)

We had a low-key birthday...He went to art camp, rode his new bike, went swimming, played Hot Wheels, ate lasagna and chocolate cake... We lit four candles in honor of the past 3 years and the year to come and toasted Owen and what we liked best about him with a fine vintage apple juice.

It's hard for me to believe that my baby is four. He stopped nursing last month (the Spiderman Web Blaster that was up on a shelf for his "nummie" present was finally more appealing than the "nummies" themselves! Yes, nursing and weaning a preschooler takes some negotiation) For the longest time he was going to quit "on Thursday" and then when Thursday rolled around he'd shake his head wisely and say, "I didn't mean this Thursday!"

Owen's birthday just happens to coincide with Cesarean Awareness Month. Many of you know that I am a passionate birth advocate, a midwifery student and former chapter leader of ICAN of the Twin Cities. Please take a look at http://www.ican-online.org/ and http://childbirthconnection.org/ and take a moment to remember the mothers, babies and families who have been affected by the cesarean epidemic. While a cesarean can be a necessary and life saving surgery, unnecessary and preventable cesareans put babies and mothers at risk. 1 in 3 babies in the U.S. are born by cesarean. The World Health Organization recommends a cesarean rate of 10-15% maximum and overall U.S. rate is 30% and growing. Despite all this intervention, the U.S. has one of the worst fetal mortality rates in the developed world. Take a few minutes and educate yourself about this issue or pass the above links on.

For a recent article on the cesarean epidemic, here in India: http://www.livemint.com/2008/04/07193627/AN-OPEN-ANDSHUT-CASE.html?atype=tp

Happy Birthday, to my beautiful, wonderful boy: Owen Patrick Fischer!

The Fischers

in India

The Best of ABBA and Other Travelers Tales

Let me tell you a little story about the morning I woke up on a Tempo Traveler bus bound for the edge of India with nothing but ABBA on the stereo...

Being a long time groupie is hard sometimes. Years go by and they're all a bit on the fuzzy side. The shocks on the bus are worn, the black velour upholstery has lost some of it's plushness and the air con coughs out occasionally lukewarm sweaty freshness. The good ole' days of rock'n roll, fame and certain fortune just ain't what they used to be. Somewhere along the line we picked up SIX children and they seem to think that "hair of the dog" means something entirely different! Plus, the whole...three meals a day, plus snacks (and they don't mean Bloody Marys!) regular bedtimes and an appalling tendency to actually GET OUT OF BED at 6 am. WTF???!!! Add in the fact that they need to stop and pee every 27 minutes and you can see how that might be ruining my cool...

HOOOOONNNNNNKKKKKK! I'm jerked awake by the sharp veer of bus from motorbike weighed down by chickens and the jarring sounds of "Dancing Queen". Whaaaat? Where am I? I'm awake I think, so how is it that I'm still dreaming? For a minute there I thought I was in India...

And so we are. In India. Kerala, to be exact. But I'm not kidding about the bus, the six kids or the ABBA. I'm not sure if our driver has a thing for it or if someone, somewhere, informed him that it was "de rigeur" traveling music for all crazy Americans. Now, I must admit, I am something of an ABBA fan. It reminds me of college parties or our post college...hang out with our college friends parties...parties in which the ABBA might make it out around 2 am for all my foxy post-college friends and I to do a little dance-a-thon (and have another glass of wine! Because that's such a good idea! The kids are at Grandma's!)

Still, it was a long, surreal bus ride, with no wine and no dance-a-thon to temper the loud and continuous ABBA...

At this point, you're probably wondering what and why. Our friends, The "WacMillers", are leaving India in April to return to the U.S. and wanted to take a trip. They invited both "The Loud Americans" and us to join them on a trip to Kerala with the thought that we could drive the western coast from the tip, near Trivvandurum up to Cochin. This is an ambitious plan. I am not sure why all ambitious plans sound so reasonably easy here. They just do. Maybe it's because we are daily witnesses to the inexplicable... Have one bicycle, one wife and 3 children and a need to visit family on the other side of town? No problem. 50 live chickens to move from village to city market? No reason you can't tie all of them upside down by their little chicken feet to your motorbike. All the previously never considered possibility in the world has become normalized. Driving the coast of Kerala in 3 days with 2 six year olds, 2 four year olds and 2 three year olds doesn't even register on the radar of things you might want to think twice about.

Saturday we flew from Bangalore to Trivvandurum...an hour and a half on a nice Kingfisher plane. Arriving, we were introduced to our "luxury" Tempo Traveler and driven another hour and a half to our first night's hotel with the plan to then drive to the "tip" of India and spend the day on the beach. Our hotel was nothing special but it was situated on a nice, mostly clean, mildly crowded section of beach, with a pool facing the ocean. I am sure that it entered more than just a few adult minds that this would be a fiiiiiinnnnnne place to spend the day. Especially when our driver informed us that the beach at the tip was an unexpected 3 hour drive from our hotel. We are an undeterred lot and despite the fact that the wee ones were bouncing off the proverbial walls and had been struck deaf to all parental direction, it was unanimously declared reasonable to continue onward.... To The Tip Of Indiaaaaaaa.

We were well prepared with snacks for this trip (having learned a thing or two from our Hassan weekend) and Tom and Tracy had brought a cooler with cheese and smoked chicken and German sausage (no, you can't get that here...unless you tap your German expat friends as they travel home and back). The parents were a little crabby, the air conditioning wasn't working, and the kids loved the ability to jump from seat to seat without those pesky seatbelts holding them in line (which is what it is, except for the frequency of near collisions...so common that I'm afraid when I drive again someday, I'll have a real problem identifying danger on the road.)

We arrived at our long awaited "beach" to find that... There. Wasn't. One. and pretty much nothing for 6 kids to do. Lots of rocks, howling rough seas and wind and luckily, a beautiful view of oceans converging...this is the place where the Bay of Bengal, the Indian Ocean and the Arabian Sea all meet. We climbed to the top of the observation tower and Grayce's beloved hat blew over the edge provoking a tearful screeching they may still be talking about. I can't really blame her, though...that hat has done as much traveling as she has and it belonged to her great-grandmother. Daddy was a hero and braved the rocks to actually find the hat and save the vacation! (Literally...that girl can carry a grudge.)


30 minutes later we were back in the TT, crabbier still and headed back to our hotel...3 hours away. We did arrive back in time for cocktails, a dip in the ocean for the kids and some dinner.
Things were looking up the next morning as we managed to get our whole group checked out and on the bus in time for....a 3 hour car ride :-)!!! Coffee improved the group outlook and the promise of a relaxing afternoon cruising the backwaters in Allepey, Kerala went a long way towards preventing a mutiny. Given a break from ABBA, we were "treated" to the special sounds of Brian Adams and The Back Street Boys" followed by James Bond's "Dr. No" on the video monitor... Our Allepey resort was situated on the backwaters and it was quite nice...traditional Kerala style cottages...and a bit more space for the kids to play. Our boat was waiting when we arrived, so we stowed our luggage and hopped aboard. Tom and Tracy had brought two life jackets so the youngest of the bunch (Owen and Billy) wouldn't drown...which is good, considering that "child-proofing" is a concept yet to reach the subcontinent in any meaningful way. Our captain was kind enough to place a bit of worn trellis type fencing at one of the "I wonder who will fall in first?" locations on the boat. The kids promptly took this to mean that they should lean all over it. Luckily, 6 grown-ups are useful for strategic chair placement and all was well.

The day was beautiful...hot and humid but shaded under the thatch of the boat...Everyone was thankful to be out of the car, the wine and beer were flowing and the boat cooked lunch was wonderful. Hot and spicy fish and a chicken curry, varied vegetable dishes, Kerala rice (a softer, double boiled rice...harvested all along the paddies near the back waters) and dahl. The kids were happy to munch on the coconut fried chicken nuggets, specially prepared for them. We ended the meal with delicious friend bananas and tea (and more wine, which is, at least, an intersting combo).

The backwaters are gorgeous. Floating along, we had a view of lush greenery, rice paddies, and village life along the rivers. Tracy and Angela and I climbed off the boat to negotiate the price of fresh prawns to bring back for dinner. "Prawns" seems a bit of a misnomer since they were as big as small lobsters. Grayce took a mighty exception to the presence of these evil monsters on our boat but I'm pretty sure the rest of us were thinking about drawn butter and the inevitable conversation with the chef about the preferred absence of masala...

During the cruise, Grayce was hard at work in her plan "to make Jimmy fall in love with me." Prior to our departure from Bangalore there were multiple secret discussions with both Owen (because he's such a ladies man?) and her good friend, Lucia, about the best way to ensure "true love." While we nixed plans to bring Owen's guitar for a serenade, it was reported that "holding hands and running together on a boat" was a sure-fire bet. I'm not sure poor Jimmy knew what he was in for but the two of them did look cute sitting side-by-side!

Five hours later, we returned to our resort. Bob and Angela took off to scout out wine for dinner (the resort had only the ubiquitious Kingfisher) and the rest of us enjoyed the pool. It is the off-season in Kerala so there was only one poor couple sharing the "peace and quiet" with us and I am sure they were extremely delighted to meet us all. Really. Especially at dinner time. Which isn't till 8:00 pm. With six children under 7. And no naps.

But we had giant prawns!

Our third morning was more relaxed...and we were able to lounge around, unhurried. It was Bob's birthday and I had a great deal of fun smashing cake into Bob's face ( an Indian tradition that's especially great marital therapy) thanks to the resort manager procuring a cake on very short notice.

Climbing back into our now trusted TT bus, we all enjoyed a short drive to our next stop, the eco-resort, "Marari Beach" on the ocean side of Allepey... With a real Beach. And a giant pool. And tons of run around space. And an Ayurvedic Spa. A very nice place to be. (Traveling in India tip: move from low to high in all things.) We spent the day swimming, playing, taking turns going to the spa and pointedly ignoring the throat clearing of the childless.

Bob really enjoyed his birthday Ayurvedic massage. A river of oil. a Wooden chair. Two male masseuses and a loincloth are something every man should experience on his birthday...shouldn't they? I'm not sure it was quite what he had in mind when he signed up for the "revitalizing" massage...

I knowingly settled for the Ayurvedic facial...

Later in the day it was decided that we would try and get some babysitters (via the resort) for the kids and try and enjoy an adults-only dinner. We fed the kids on the outdoor lawn tables (Jimmy and Grayce sharing a "date"...I'm not sure that true love has been established but Marari Beach does have a romantic feel. Perhaps they can honeymoon here in 2028?)

Rounding the kid clan up in the Murphy's villa, we hurriedly left the ONE unsuspecting babysitter (noting that she was only about a head taller than Grayce) with all six of them. Caden was obligingly sound asleep. Jimmy and Grayce and Owen and Billy and Kay-Kay were awake and ready to party... As it turned out, our babysitter's supervisor had to come and lend her a hand. Apparently, our children were a bit rambunctious. It's good to pay people well. Really well.

You know the ABBA song, "SOS?" Wade was pretty certain it fit the bus scenario but the babysitter might think othewise.

Oblivious to all of this, the adults settled into the seaside grill and enjoyed multiple bottles of wine, accompanied by seafood platters... It really was the best meal I've enjoyed since we moved here. And no one was glaring at us (tolerance by other travelers, of the quirks of childhood is progressively less as you move up the resort star chain)

Proving that preschoolers have the stamina of gorillas, Kay-Kay and Billy were still jumping on the beds when we returned and the rest of the bunch had just passed out cold. Bed and villa shuffling commenced and we were all soon slumbering.

In the morning, Angela and I joined the yoga class on the beach. The yogi was over 60, looked 40 and seemed to think that there was nothing amiss in instructing us to take it easy while doing the "floating lotus" (an advanced yoga pose in which you essentially hold your cross legged body off the ground with your two hands...) It's good to have goals, isn't it? I won't bore you with pictures of our trials because I think it's enough to just assume we are incredibly flexible and strong...

After a good breakfast, a group swim and some pack-up time we checked out and headed for Cochin and the airport and finally home to Bangalore...

I dont' know why, but I can't seem to stop humming "Mama Mia."

Thank you for the music...and check out our our friends blogs www.wacmiller.blogspot.com and www.loudamericans.blogspot.com for more commentary and pics of our trip.

The Fischers

Traveling Troubadours