I AM TRULY SORRY
***

I henna-ed my hair today, inspired by another friend who also recently henna-ed. It came out exactly the color it was supposed to- mahogany. And so my hair has a shiny reddish brown tint to it.

It turns out it is sort of like my scarlet letter.

A very dear and kind friend of mine told me today how I have been harsh with her in the past and that it hurt her deeply. And if this is not bad enough, there are a few others I have hurt because of my harshness.

And I am going public with this very private information because I don't want to do this anymore. And I am glad that my red hair warns everyone who sees me- "Here comes that hothead. Look out!" And reminds myself when I look in the mirror- "Don't let your righteousness wrong others."

I don't want to be a hot head anymore. I want to be a warm person and to be truthful, yet kind and simple in my words.

Car Stories

Yesterday I got into a friend's car. This is unusual for me because we mostly take the train or a cab. So, we were driving in her Lexus hybrid and it started me reminiscing about my cars.

When we were both quite a bit younger, like most kids, we tended to be overly optimistic about how much gas we had in the tank. She ran out of gas only 6 blocks from her house which was a piece of luck. I ran out of gas on a 4 lane highway in my Cadillac Sedan de Ville. Try to turn THAT steering wheel when you have just lost your power steering! A bit of a miracle really but those driving along side of me did not even hesitate when getting out of my way.

One of the most incredible of car story tellers is Tom Waits, and for more about his cars try this link.

Before I got a license I used to drive another friend's VW rabbit. I drove very carefully so as not to upset the police. One time however, I was pulled over and the officer asked for my license. I lied and said, "I am sorry officer, I forgot my license at home and I am late for work!" He asked where I worked (which is what I was hoping) and when I responded "Leona's" he just walked away from the car without a word. You see, in those days and maybe even today, Chicago cops ate half price at Leona's and rarely busted an employee.

My first car (with M.C.) was a tan 1973 Mercedez. That car could take a turn on a dime and saved my reckless life several times. The floor in front of the back seat rusted out. I sold it to a Jesus-looking junkyard man with turquoise blue eyes for $50 and wept as he towed it away.

Getting ready for:

My visit to Seattle and two Waldorf Schools for interviews.
Handing over my administrator position at the Waldorf school here,
Our friends Michael and Lakshmi to arrive next week,
Our school's Open house (hence the crazy crafting I am doing above),
Booty's school vacation next week,
and forgot about

cooking for the school today-
woops.

"Dirty Colored Skin"
I am
too sensitive.
I know.
But when someone says that brown skin is "dirty", even if it is in reference to their own "high yellow" tone, it makes me burn.
OK. I will put out the fire.
But I would like to say something.
Or shouldn't I?

My students S and O will be finishing their first "Main Lesson" book in a few days. It is filled with the work we have done together; drawings, writings, diagrams, maps, geometric forms etc. It is always nice to have one's work documented beautifully. Don't you think it would be wonderful if we all did it?



A little more about Matheran...
When we arrived there were elderly ladies begging us to let them carry our baggage to the hotel. The same at the transfer station. It is hard to hand over your heavy bags to someone who appears to be the age of your mother. We took most of the bags in the cart that carried mom (Hemanshu's) but one woman persisted and we gave her a bag.

In this picture we are trying to catch the second train and ahead is a man carrying 4 of our bags. I feel very "soft" at these times.

My flights to Seattle are booked. I will be seeing some of my dearest friends very soon.

Ah. I will take a horse anytime over a monkey.
These monkeys especially will adjust your idea of "cute animals". Even Booty has decided that she doesn't much like them anymore. H is not easily corrupted by experience- he still thinks they are dear little creatures. Even after one tried to attack me.

We were sitting by the pool having an afternoon pot of chai. All of a sudden a monkey saunters toward us very deliberately. I knew right away he was after the sugar so I put a heavy saucer on the lid. This did not seem to deter him at all and he continued to aggressively approach our table. I threw a spoon in front of him to try and scare him away. But that did nothing. He grabbed the sugar bowl and faced me, hissing and ready for a showdown. I knew better and broke eye contact immediately and turned around. He then sat down 2 feet away and contentedly ate the entire contents of the sugar bowl. After this he came for our chai pot and I even hoped he would find a way to the scalding chai. He did not but we lost interest in the pot after he had handled it.

Throughout the trip we learned that the monkeys will not back down unless you have a weapon (a broom or even better a sling shot). We purchased two of the latter and survived the rest of our holiday without having to get a tetanus shot. This was not the fate of a friend of mine who attempted to grab back a stolen item from a monkey and was left with deep scratches on her arms.

Sometimes when the habitat of man and animal collide, it is not a pretty picture.

I love my India!

Getting used to the quiet and the order of Singapore can take time. Especially after a trip to Mumbai with lots of riksha rides.

We were so lucky to go to Matheran again, and Booty rode a pony (Mr. Mintu) for 2 days straight! I think we have a horsey girl here! And we finally got to experience the trains in India! We took the train from Mumbai to the bottom of the hill station and rode the toy train up to the top. The refreshment seller (above) was jumping on and off the train without hesitation. The food on Indian trains is cooked fresh to order, (unlike the packaged garbage served in the US) and is hot and delicious (albeit spicy). And it prompts me to beg the question,

"What is the meaning of the word civilized?"

One for the Funny papers:

I offered to go and buy some flowers for the Kinder's Chinese New Year celebration. I took the bike and burley so as to fit the flowers in the wagon. I had to ride up on the sidewalk a little of the way because the shop is located on a busy two lane through-way. (*Bicyclists are ignored on the road and when they are noticed the drivers usually honk.) There were lots and lots of plants displayed on the sidewalk as I approached the garden nursery and an elderly, Singaporean man was also trying to walk on the sidewalk so I stopped to pull over but he stepped aside and waved me on. As I passed my wagon accidentally knocked a plant over. I stopped to right it but as I was doing so I heard the old man yell at me,

"So uncivilized!!!"
"No manners!"


I righted the plant but he continued to yell at me. So, against my better judgment I said,

"Uncivilized is when its dangerous for bicyclists to ride on the street."

He didn't stop.
"Don' know how to act!"
I think he was enjoying himself. So I laughed and yelled back at him as I rode away,

"Keep talking!!"

But he was right in a way. When confronted by "people who are like this", I don't know how to conduct myself. I should have thanked him for the practice. Heaven knows I need it!

After all this time I have discovered The Market for Artists and Designers at the Red Dot Traffic building in Singapore.

There is a monthly open market for local artists and I am planning on going to the next one February 12-13.

We have been spending some time with The Ramayana. The shadow puppet above was lent to me by my students O and S who found them in Bali, land of Rama and Sita. This one is Rama. Telling the story again reminds me that this is one tale I will NEVER stop telling/reading/living.

Perhaps we will check out the Ramayana exhibit at the Peranakan Museum before it is over next month.

I continue to work for the Waldorf Association here in Singapore, conduct workshops and help homeschool the lovely G girls. Soon however, I will be handing over things to allow for a smooth transition, at least for our long summer holiday in New England, which includes the much anticipated graduation of our nephew in Ohio and holiday in Maine.

We have rented a large cottage on the water in midcoast Maine in June and look forward to Booty's Ethiopian reunion as well as family and friends dropping by or staying for a few days.

It is wonderful to have something like this in our future!

An update for those who subscribe to the saying, "The Cure for Homesickness is the idea of home":

I had my third "preliminary" job interview early this morning and it put me in a fine mood. Because even if I don't get the job, the idea was discussed at length and put me in a homeward bound mood. That is, content that the "possibility" of going home is still very much a reality.

The next step is actually traveling home to interview in front of the teachers and students. A performance of sorts. Hence my backstage insecurities.

Why do we do it?
Why do we go through the fire and the floods when we could just as easily teach in a much less exposed way?

I think that we are not unlike actors/musicians in that it is the vulnerability that is part of the teaching. It is our very self that is left open to receive what may come. And the willingness to do this for a chance at serving is a kind of gift. Sometimes we fall on our faces and look a fool (that would be me most of the time) but then we get up and try again.

Here I go. Trying again.

Which end is up?
One of the most amazing things about animals and farm life is the opportunity to see farm animals as they really are.

Cows may seem kinda dopey but when you watch them you realize that they are working really hard to digest grass into milk. They chew and chew and chew and digest in their stomachs and you look at them and their bodies are one big giant rectangle of digestion! If only I could chew and chew on things like a cow. I think I might be a little more relaxed and balanced.

And how about chickens? The first time I fell in love with a chicken was at Hawthorn Valley Farm (a place at which I may be interviewing next month). The chicken was running and her little bottom was swaying from one side to another and it filled me with great joy. Sometimes, like in this picture, their bottoms look like their tops. I think because the egg laying (imagine what that feels like day in and out) is a big production and that area of the their body needs the space for the work. Hence the large egg boat on their underside. And was it the week of eating fresh eggs that made this month's cycle for me almost pain free for the first time in years?

It may seem silly to contemplate this is the kind of thing but why must the simple things in life be simplistic? I don't think they are.

Farmer Scott really liked to step on the gas when he gave tractor rides. And he loved to bend my ear when he got a chance about "americans". His accent was incredibly rich and he spoke so fast that when he started talking I missed about half of what he said. He and his wife were excellent hosts and gave us private cuddles with the baby ducks, which Booty loved.



This girl got wilder and bolder as the trip went on. It made us feel very good inside as it seemed that farm life really suited her. And that's the way it should be!

What is with the blackface?

On New Year's day we went to a craft market in Australia's Port Stephens area. We bought home sewn aprons and Macadamia nut butter. It was lovely.

Until we saw all the black face dolls and lawn/garden accessories. I started to look at the toys on sale and spotted a little family of four dolls who were brown and made of wood. And I thought that maybe the Aussies don't know about black face. I tried to buy the little doll set for Booty but she wanted a white plastic doll. When I refused to buy it for her she had a melt down and I heard myself say,

"I will never, never, buy you a white doll! Especially when there are sweet brown dolls!"

That night I found a blackfaced doll in the trunk of toys at the farm. It freaked me out and gave me the jitters. I woke up in the night and heard a noise. It sounded like someone trying to open the door. I woke up H and we went out into the kitchen and it turned out to be a community of rat sized cockroaches trying to find some food or maybe it was the wind banging the door. But it wasn't some kkk dude trying to take my daughter or kill us for loving her.

My husband thought I was over-reacting and said surely these dolls meant something different to Australians. So I did some research.

Check it out:

Oprah in Australia

Golliwog dolls in Australia

Wiki on blackface

And you decide.

We are back from Kookaburra Farm. And still washing the sandy, farm-handy clothes.
Today there is a breeze in Singapore and it feels so nice after the gorgeous weather in Australia.

The farm was everything we wanted and a lot of surprises. We met a couple and their lovely daughter and spent several of our days and nights with them as the girls played so well together. We were sad to say good bye to them. They live in Sydney and we don't know if we will see them again!

On vacation Booty's favorite activities were going in the hen house, picking up the baby chicks, teaching them to fly, and collecting eggs. She also enjoyed riding on Scott's tractor, milking Kaile the calf, and visiting with the ducklings. She fed cows, geese, a skittish pig, a donkey named Ernie and some very loveable goats every day for the week we were there.

If we ever have the opportunity, I would like to have goats and chickens. Sweet friendly creatures!

We found a perfect beach 10 minutes away with tidepools full of fish and snails and rocks for climbing.

At night we grilled outside on the porch while listening to Kookaburra laughter.

Advent spiral.

At 7 pm tonite all the parents from Booty's kinder filed into the school and sat on small chairs around a beautifully fern decorated spiral. One by one the children walked the spiral and lit their candles from the center candle and placed the lit ones around the edge. Booty was thrilled (she is a little bit of a show girl) and marched into the middle to light her candle atop an apple. Us parents sang some advent songs while the children lit up the room.

Lovely.

Things are moving along. And Sanbate is back to herself.
Yesterday, she sat in her room despondent and said to me, her arms outstretched,
"I need much more toys! There are not enough toys in my room!!!"

I am beginning to hear back from some schools.

Everything in motion.

Booty had a fever this morning and I called in to cancel school for both of us.
While she was playing quietly I sewed some Christmas gifts.
All of a sudden I hear her make a noise like a fake snore, very loud. I ignore it once.
Then she does it again and I turn to see that she is having a seizure.
This time no amount of cold water breaks the fit. I bring her upstairs and put her into the tub and run some cold water over her body. Finally, she starts to cry and tries to speak but it is garbled, "Mama please stop." All I could say was, "Ok but come back to mommy and daddy!"

After a few phone calls I reached Carmen, who is originally from the US. She had some children's tylenol and brings it over immediately. And our friend Birgit, who is my Kundalini yoga teacher offered to bring some homeopathic remedies for seizure and fever.

At the moment, all is calm. Please make a wish that another seizure does not come as it becomes dangerous soon after the first.

Booty's school is in session for one more week and then she is off until the 10th of January. So, we have one more week of mornings with the twins and one more Playgroup session and then the holiday and Australia.

The holiday. Sigh. Christmas. Without snow again. The tree is up. And there are some presents under it and a stocking for Booty. Still. Not quite where it is at.

Every day I check my email hoping for some news or request from the schools to whom I have sent my interest.

I am beginning to have daydreams about driving my own car and sinking my hands into clean beach sand and/or rich soil with thick tufts of grass. I know the two dreams car/earth are a bit at odds.

Dr. Lakshmi and Michael came to our house for one extremely full day yesterday and we are fairly wiped out without having done any real work. They were the ones seeing patients from beginning to end of day. Booty had children to play with all day and then her m-birdy and Lakshmi. The result of so much excitement however, has been a head cold for the little tigger girl. The heavy lidded and watery eyes say all.

My glasses broke yesterday and today we went to the mall to order a replacement. We also bought a car seat (lah!) for our trip and future needs.

Mr. D leaves tonite for India only to return on Saturday.

It is getting pretty personal around here.

I don't know what the world has in mind for us.
What I do know is that our work contract and house rental expire in May.
I do know we will not be staying in this lovely, conveniently located but overpriced condo.
I know that I don't really belong in Singapore and that I tried valiantly to belong and to offer what I have to give to those that value it.
I know some brilliant and loving people here, who have given me a great deal of support and kindness.
I realize how lucky we have been to live our life outside the safety of home and the comforts of what we know. This has been a great gift to me- exercising in me a tolerance, a new understanding of flexibility and a gratitude that previously did not seem to exist. To be able to fly to India,Bali or Australia with relative ease has also given us a richness of experience. For this we have been fortunate.

But we need to be home. We need to be able to feel free. Will we find our way to these things?

I have sent my CV to four Waldorf schools, one in each of these states (NH),(NY), (MA) and (NC).

My first choice set up a phone conference last week (at 945pm) before Thanksgiving and said they would get back to me within a few weeks.

My second choice replied with thanks that they would be responding to inquiries after December 20.

The others replied that they had received and forwarded my CV (resume) to the teacher search committee.

Mr. D has encouraged me to pursue teaching in the states with the faith that he will manage to find something within commuting distance, at least within a year or so.

It is all very strange and I begin to understand my path by watching the feelings this brings out.

Teachers who understand the layers of teaching sometimes refer to "The hidden lesson". This is the lesson that is not on display but embedded within the lesson. Most hidden lessons help students to gain access to knowledge that isn't written up in The Standards we see when assessing our own plans and accomplishments. When a science experiment explodes, or an insect is aided in her attempt to escape children witness a lesson that is theirs to experience and interpret.

Life is full of these lessons. And I believe that they are the reason we are here.

My job is to learn how to protect myself from the paralyzing feeling of anxiety- Where will we live? Will we find a home? Will I be given a class for 8 years? My job is to continue to practice the tools that help keep me whole and fulfilled enough to give to others what is needed.