To India with Love

Six years, four weeks, two children.

sidhus_on_safari — Tue, 23 Dec 2008 21:08:00 GMT

This surprise entry is for all the non parents out there who have no idea why I wouldn't write in the journal since arriving home four weeks ago with Ankita in tow. Parents know! Truth is - I have been busy,tired, busy, preoccupied,busy, and distracted. Probably in equal amounts. That goes for the rest of the family too. Shayne is dressing for three - which is not easy when you have two young girls who have to contemplate what they will wear and questions their mothers wardrobe taste for the particular outing or the weather or the whim. I listen with amazement and confusion that a three year old who does not speak english can converse about attire with a mother whose Hindi comprehension is extremely limited. Yet somehow they do!

I have been cooking and cleaning and cooking and cleaning and shopping and cleaning and ironing and washing and cooking and ironing - you know I will never - even when I am dead - never know why we wear so many *&^%$%^&&** clothes. But there you have it. Young girls are fussy, super and even uber super dooper models are not as fussy as my two ( make it three) girls. And then I see them in their things and I go - oh don't you look pretty - or wow you are so groovy - and that happens all the time. Sometimes every day some times every couple of hours.

So four weeks have gone by like minutes. Ankita is rapidly adjusting to family life. i wont say it has been easy because it is not. Not for us and especially not for her. What an amazing child we have here. Her patience and generosity, her strength of character and warmness of spirit have been a blessing to us all. Neelu too has been through a very trying realisation. She has been through the trauma of this journey and now has a little sister who has completely changed her world and she is trying so hard to be loving and generous and kind and thoughtful and most of the times she is. At other times you hear here from somewhere in the house yelling Ankita Nay! Nay Ankita! ANKITA NAY! But for the most part from the end of week two they have been getting on better and better.

And now on the eve of Christmas eve they are sleeping. Ankita in the top bunk and Neelu below. They negotiated there places on top and bottom themselves and are both very happy. They kiss each other goodnight and chat a little before slowing down to sleep. To see them lying there asleep is a delight. We are blessed. Truly - with silence for at least nine hours...It is a very happy family. There are moments of joy and some sadness too. On the second night Akita was in bed and I went in to check on her. She was lying looking up at the ceiling silently crying. It was a huge moment for us all because she had not cried at all in India, not when we left the orphanage, not when we got on the plane - not at all. She was extremely happy on her adventure. We had the odd tantrum as I have mentioned but there were no tears with them. Just big, big noise. Now lying there in silence tears streaming down her face we took a moment to touch her. She wanted to be left alone. We retreated. It rocks me a little still. Her loss. Her journey from Ranchi - to Delhi which we still chat about - then being in the shishu bhavan nearly a year. Leaving friends, Basan, Poona, Leelu and others. We can only try and imagine what is going through her mind and how it is affecting her. She is a little warrior though. She fights hard for what she thinks she needs and we love that about her. We are getting better at communicating and as we do the negotiations get longer and funnier. She has met with some of the family and extended clan and has made some firm friendships already. We love this life. We love our two wonderful children. We are a family after six long years. Three years for Neelu and three more for Ankita. Six years that are now getting easy to let go of as we look to the bright and shining future, the anticipation of adventure, the contemplation of all that life is to be as all of us - the Sidhus on safari.

May the gods smile upon you this Christmas and new year. May Jesus bring you joy and peace, may Laxshmi give you manna, may Krishna give your journey ease and may Ganesha gather you in all his arms and squeeze you like the only child in the universe.

Another pea in the pod.

sidhus_on_safari — Thu, 20 Nov 2008 03:39:00 GMT

After some tense waiting and great help from all the associated agencies, who went way beyond the call of duty to get us here, we are on the move. We fly out tomorrow night and arrive in Sydney at 8:15pm on Friday night. We have had Ankita at Matt and Liz's for for three days. She is sleeping upstairs with her sister right now and is doing very well.

She eats what she wants and tells you what she wont eat. She looks you dead in the eye and says "nahee" (no). Shakes her head and looks deep into your eyes as if to say ' do you have a problem with that?' and even if I do have a problem, I am not sure there is much I could do about it at the moment!

She has come out with us shopping and adventuring and is very confident but still looks to us to make sure she is not too far away or doing something she is not supposed to be. She loves her new clothes and the few toys she has. A plastic Barbie phone that Neelu got the last time we were here has become a favorite. We had to find and buy a new one for her so the girls walk around with these phones around their neck making a racket. The phones play bad versions of Hindi pop songs plus various other ear piercing sounds. Terrific for Papa. I have told them how much I dislike them and they mostly ignore my pleas to desist. I envision the next twenty years very clearly...

Ankita and mamma are already bonding like super glue.Three pees in a pods these girls. The three of them were in the back of a cab this morning - me in the front - and the two girls were sleeping on Mamma like they had been there for years.

Neelu and Ankita have got the sister thing happening big time. Neelu is amazing. patient, kind, understanding, generous to a fault. She has become the protective big sister and Ankita has worked out very quickly how lucky she is. The truth is, we are all realising, in a very short time, how lucky we all are; if luck had anything to do with it that is...

Almost Ankita.

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 16 Nov 2008 23:16:00 GMT

The gentleman I sat next to on the flight out of Singapore had a paper brought to him from one of the Singapore girls. This is before we took off. About 6:45pm local time. It was an Indian Paper - The Times of India - it was the 14th November - National Children's Day is India. The leading headline and article was about adoption. Specifically, how outrageous it was that the Delhi court was taking so long to process adoption orders. How everyone was frustrated, Indian authorities, lawyers, orphanages, waiting parents. The journalist asked the TIz Hazari Court judge appointed to make these orders to make a comment on her constant and almost inexplicable adjournments. She had no comment.

I arrived in Delhi anxious about the blood tests. As soon as I could on Saturday morning I rang the doctor who had taken Ankita's blood a couple of days before, to ask how things were coming along - all negative ( which is good!) and all sent off to the High Commission. Brett - the High Commission official assigned our case- is confident that with these blood tests all should come together in time...he has been fantastic by all accounts.

Ankita is very excited. We are go going to pick her up on Monday morning and bring her back here to stay a few days before we leave. She knows her own mind, lets say. We approach the ' hand over' with a certain amused nervousness. No that's not true. We approach the hand over with down right fear. There. That's a bit more like it. You never know. I do so want to get Ankita and bring her home but the nerves and fear of getting an almost four year old child that you really have no idea about is a little weird. That's okay. It's just that when I look at the concept objectively in isolation from my life I am not too sure that is exactly what I would place in it. But then, the gods aren't doing it for any other reason than their own amusement, so, I can live with that. We sent out for a baby and we got delivered a small, robust child. One who knows her mind, as I think I have said...

Shayne tells me that in the car on the way to the doctors Ankita had a tantrum that was not in any way funny. Now she can laugh, she says, but not then.Not fully at all. They were is the car and they got stuck in traffic and Ankita got a little hungry. "Kanah" (food). Shayne explained that she had no food but they would be there soon and they would get all manner of food when they did. "KANAH". Yes darling as I have said....look, driver - do you think you could explain in Hindi so she can...the driver very dutifully and kindly explained to Ankita... KANAH!!! And it was off, or on, or happening. From constantly repeating the word food to pining in a low guttural cry, then moving right through to the full open throated howl, they moved slowly through the traffic toward their destination.

Neelu had an idea. She began to sing a little song - as she does - about how there would be food when they arrived. How the food would be yummy and Ankita can eat....as much as she liiiiikes. All the foooooood there iiiiiiiiis.And she would be haaaaaapy. And Ankita begins to relax and look at her sister and take notice and even smile a little. And there was a knowing look between them and the car crawled on towards the doctors in Shanti Nikaten, where the nurse would whisk Ankita away and two of them would hold her down and stick a big needle in her arm without explanation and draw blood, all the while, the guttural cry returning to her lungs and throat so she could voice her protest.

Ankita calmed down outside with Mamma and Neelu and she managed to get Neelu's bag of chips and feed mamma and Neelu and herself. She ate some sweets, "toffee" as she calls them. Then when Shayne asked if she would like her own chips opened..."no". Apparently she would save them for later. Shayne now has a good supply of car food.

Mamma Mia - here we go again!

sidhus_on_safari — Fri, 14 Nov 2008 17:39:00 GMT

I am sitting in transit in Changi airport terminal 3, Singapore on the way to Delhi. I am half excited and half in trepidation. Excited because I will see Ankita and Shayne and Neelu very soon. In trepidation because we have a problem with the visa and Australian High commission. Fo some reason our file, which I lodged some nine months ago, has gone missing -apparently never arriving from the immigration authorities in Sydney and we are sweating on a medical clearance that should have been done ages ago to get the visa and leave on the 21st November. It is just not destined to be easy!

Shayne and Neelu have been in India since Monday night. Shayne has been spending loads of time in Delhi traffic going from place to place to try and get things done and I have been working in Sydney, Newcastle and Brisbane - all the while on the phone to the various agencies that can help us speed things along. Thank goodness there are such good people in all of the agencies willing to go to extraordinary lengths to help. Things are not certain, but they are better than even odds as we speak.

Genevieve, a colleague who was with me in Brisbane yesterday witnessing my mini melt down as I did what I could to get papers and permissions out to India in a hurry said at the end of a long day " You will get to your hotel tonight and just cry..." Well I didn't at the hotel - but passing time on the plane to Singapore, watching Meryll Streep in Mama Mia - suddenly the tears came flooding to my eyes. I dont even like ABBA! Loath the music actually. But Meryll is such a beatuful honest kind of girl she got to me and I just could not help myself. It had to happen sometime. I just wish it wasn't in plane with a bunch of innocent bystanders! Covered it well like any stand up Aussie bloke...

So I am in the transit lounge vibrating like mad, killing five hours before I board a plane to Delhi. I trust the travel gods will play a merry tune and help dissuade any bad spirits sent from stirring the sticky pot and that by the time Monday afternoon comes, we can relax in knowing that everything is done. In the mean time - Mamma Mia - here we go again!

Misery makes a colourful exit.

sidhus_on_safari — Fri, 31 Oct 2008 20:16:00 GMT

We have made it to the end of the beginning. An unexpected phone call from Umrao, the lawyers advocate, on the night of Thursday 23rd. "Sidhu?" "Yes, this is Mr Sidhu." "Sidhu?" "yes it is." GOOD NEWS!" " Who is this?" "GOOD NEWS SIDHU!" - "UMRAO!" "YES!" "OH YOU ARE KIDDING ME!" "NO NO IT IS DONE" and I asked him again if it was true and he said yes. And I asked him again and he said yes. And yet again and he laughed and then I thanked him for calling me. Several times I remember. And he told me he was at the orphanage with Sister Anthea and she told Ankita and she got very excited and it was enough for Umrao to call me to tell me that Ankita was very excited to hear her parents could finally come.

We didn't talk about the judge. I know it was her. I will find out the details when we travel. We leave around the 10th or 14th and return as the troublesome foursome on the 22nd of November. Life is moving again. We are flying at light speed toward our dream. Misery is bowing to heckles and jeers and joy is dancing to unbridled accolades.

I was driving home from Canberra on Wednesday the 22nd, late in the afternoon, somewhere along the federal highway - an empty lake George and the distant hills beyond it to my right. I was alone. And in the middle distance of that dry lake bed their appeared the most precise and colourful rainbow I think I have ever seen. It took my breath away. Just over there - Shooting down out of dark, rolling clouds it looked to pierce the earth like a saber. I could see the glow on the ground where it seemed to penetrate.

I thought about prisms and refracted light and I contemplated the water in the atmosphere and the angle of the sun; and then I turned my mind to the gods. I said a silent prayer and thanked the universe for such a beautiful image and then I felt a kind of elation that I have not felt since I met Ankita. It charged through me as I marveled at the bright, bright orange and the glowing yellow and the vibrant - almost solid purple. And of course as any good pagan would, I took it as a sign. I took it as a sign but was unsure of how to read it. Be grateful to witness the glory of the universe? Was that enough? Or could I read a little further?

My daughter, Ankita was forged of all that colour. She was let go with all of that emotion. She was charged with the crystal clear of earth and sky. And a day later we were blessed with the news of her certain company and the joy of sharing her journey. So to India we go again to bring home even more colour into our already blessed family. Neelu is a bundle of anticipation and Shayne wanted get on the plane days ago.

To those people who have written to me and are waiting the same news for their own chance to take their children - our hearts go out to you. I hope you have the same fortune as us very, very soon. Your wishes have comforted us and now our thoughts and prayers are with you all. God's speed.

Doubtful dancing.

sidhus_on_safari — Sat, 4 Oct 2008 22:23:00 GMT

The principle at work here is, the less you know, the more you are certain ( to be sure to be sure )- where things are. Yes, I am gambling on the luck of the Irish. And it is the same as it ever was. Misery stands cock hipped at centre stage. Hope is puffing loudly from the wings, shepherds crook getting heavier at each vein attempt to hook misery by the neck and drag it (limping ) from view. To analogize is much easier than to tell it like is is. Which is unhelpful of me I know, so in short and with the least amount of vitriolic cynicism - here is the latest. I refuse to use punctuation from this point forward.

The judge (she) has neglected to show up in the court on the 25th of september because a high court directive ordered that (she) deal with all adoption cases in the positive or the negative within fourteen days in other words (she) could not adjourn the pending cases anymore and so instead of dealing with cases in the affirmative or the negative (she) walks off on leave until (she) feels better about doing anything at all again. There. A little punctuation. Then. I will ring the lawyer probably to be told that (she) has done nothing again and we can now take the case to the high court where they can decide to tell her that (she) was wrong and that (she) must pass our case and that (she) should do that within fourteen days (she) will no doubt need to take leave again to make sure that (she) is sure that (she) can say no because (she) is unsure of something more than (she) was a moment ago and you can see how this can continue unaided by punctuation.

Reality.

We have taken some time out to be with family and we have been in South Australia relaxing at my brothers house. The whole clan gathered from all corners of the country and infused some much needed joie de vive. Neelu had cousins to play with and we had wine to taste and company to make us laugh.

On returning to the vexed question of movement with the lawyer we have discovered that (she) has decided to ignore the high court order and she will take another month to decide if it is possible for her to do anything. I cant work out our lawyers strategy or logic anymore. It has disappeared into the doubt-mosphere.They say something might happen next week. She may give an indication of what she will do. Nobody seems particularly interested in doing anything. Not the good guys, certainly not the bad guys. On the 23rd of October this whole circus is set to continue again. The lawyers have all of the papers ready to go to the high court but wont until again this mad woman does nothing. And then what? Another postponement? Another adjourned date because of some flimsy meaningless hitch?

I try to be. We try to be. We three, Raj and Shayne and Neelu try to be positive and move through the treacle of our hearts desires with some sort of normalcy. ( I blame the united states for that word.) Our emotions are a very peculiar blend of parental expectant joy and that of wildly confused jilted lovers. Little things crack us open. Disappointment spills easily from the slightest graze across a normal day. My eyes are heavy set and look far away in quiet waiting moments and I find myself practicing to smile. As the mouth moves to that familiar place, wet spills unchecked from forced corners. My breath searches for little victories of ease. At night, my jaw knows the pressure points on all of my teeth and uses them to play a slow grinding tune. It seems the tune will have many verses before any reprise. I cant keep this humming up much longer. I am sick of the sound of my expectancy. Hope is beginning to play the fool and misery is starting to strut. We keep stepping onto the dance floor, taking hope by the hand. We move unsurely to the now familiar tune.

Enter Misery...with a limp.

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 31 Aug 2008 09:08:00 GMT

You must be familiar with the word "no" by now. We are. And here it is again. No. That is because there has been a breaking story about kidnapped children and an orphanage is Chennai and Australia being the recipient of some of these children. So the judge, in her wisdom, has decided that something that happened years ago in another city in another state at another orphanage, is some how tied up with Ankita and we must now wait while she seeks 'some clarification'.

There is much misery in the stories about the kidnapped children. We are heartbroken for all of the families and children involved. We are devastated that something like that could happen. We trust that the system put in place by the Indian Central Adoption Resource Agency (CARA) some years ago, and the changes made more recently, are watertight and protect the rights of the children and the parents -both birth and adopted.

None of the hideous, miserable goings on are associated with the Missionaries of Charity. None of this is good. There is a foreboding tone coming out from the Indian press and it will get worse before it gets rational. And so we wait, watching misery limp slowly across the horizon of our joy.

The lawyers meet this afternoon to decide the next move. I will call them late tonight. I have a feeling the High Court is next. Umrao, the lawyers secretary and now friend of mine, told me on the phone last night " ...tell Mrs Sidhu not to worry. We will work this out. We will get it sorted and Ankita will come to Australia." I have to believe that. Or get an axe and put Misery out of ...well, you know.

Waiting on a Crossed Wire

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 24 Aug 2008 15:01:00 GMT

There has been no news from India - we have crossed wires with the lawyer and the judge is doing nothing until the 30th - next Saturday. So we continue to wait in the highlands in the cold - in more ways than one! Where's my monsoon! Hopefully we return to Delhi mid September - as the Sisters get Ankita's passport in order. We should only need a week to sort things out and get back home. Not that I am really in a hurry to get back... all three of us have itchy feet right now. We have been waiting to get back to the travel agent for two weeks and now we wait again. Life in Australia has got back to normal reasonably quickly. School has sorted out Neelu's frustration of not bringing Ankita home. She was very unsettled for the first few nights. Lots of emotion bubbling away. It makes you wonder what was going through her mind as she travelled back to India - the place of such heart wrenching emotion - subconscious personal ones as well as new family ones. I remember as we climbed the lookout in Patna - her "home town" - to look out over the wide river, I felt as though I was witnessing something very momentous. I'm sure that we will climb that look out a few more times together over the years both physically and metaphorically. More as the tension mounts...

Swimming Goodbye

sidhus_on_safari — Thu, 7 Aug 2008 02:00:00 GMT

We went and said goodbye to Ankita today. It was, as many of you encouraged it would be, a really great experience. Ankita was in fine form. We moved to a hotel closer to the orphanage for the last couple of days in Delhi. We were sick of the noise of renovating going on next door at the apartment - constant banging vibrating through the wall. Boom, boom, boom. Neelu is really over not getting Ankita and therefore homesick. How do you deal with the constant unsettled depression of a five year old? Only one thing to do - move to a five star hotel with a pool! Bingo - the kid is in heaven. Now all I have to put up with is "can we go back to the pool."

So at twenty to mid-day we walked the five minutes from the Maidens Hotel to the Shishu Bhavan and took a seat on the long sofa to wait for Ankita to arrive back from school. We have all come to terms with the fact that we will have to wait. Shayne is getting on with the next count down already. Neelu is resigned and I am still sulking. Five star sulking isn't really that tough. Except that after they upgraded us to a deluxe suite because they messed up my reservation - we discovered that the entire fourth floor is being renovated! Boom,boom boom down into the third floor suite! You have to laugh. Our room(s) ( as big as a Sydney 2 bedroom flat) are newly done, very tasteful, Shayne says the suite is all huge white bed, squishy pillows, marble bathroom complete with mirror in the sunken marble bath and a shower recess big enough for an entire family. Huge wide screen tv in the family room - cartoon network cinema style - sofas and walk in robe where Neelu has her cubby. But I digress, because we really wouldn't be feeling this chipper if the goodbye had gone badly.

We get the video camera and the still camera ready for a farewell shoot out and we wait. We hear an auto rickshaw pulling up outside. I walk quickly to the door and video a pile of kids dressed in red uniforms with "tinker bell school" embroidered on the back of their shirts bundling out of the auto. I see Ankita and shout to her form the balcony. She looks up the couple of meters and smiles and waves. "Hello Dada." She comes up the stairs, in no particular rush, cranes her head as I lean down to her and she kisses my cheek. She sees mamma and Neelu and gives them a kiss and then tells mamma " school, school" only the hindi accent way, which sounds more like "a-shshkool, a- shshkool". We hang out with the kids for a while - photos, chatting and then once all of the other children have gone through to the lunch room and Ankita has had some time alone with us, she looks around and says - bye - and off she goes to eat. "She must be hungry." I say to Sister,"She knows her mind" Sister replies. She comes back into the room only because her plate is yet to be dished up and Shayne goes through a small album with photographs of our house and rooms and garden and talks to her about it. As Shayne says the names of the places in the house, Ankita repeats them.

We go through to the lunchroom and join in. She gets out of her uniform before she eats and she is happy to let Shayne undo her shirt and get her ready. We hang in the lunch room and play with all the kids. The sisters and the helpers are relaxed and going through the normal routine - all be it disturbed by our presence. Then it is time for sleeps. The children have been up since five thirty and go to their beds reasonably happily. Ankita and Shayne, with sister interpreting, have a chat about Shayne and Neelu coming back to pick her up as soon as the judge signs the papers and she seems to be quite at ease with that. We hug and kiss and look. Then we leave. Waving goodbye. Out the door, back to the hotel and into the pool. Gin and tonic, long, cool swim, play with kid, done. But not finished.

We return to Welby on friday night and fifty to one we will be freezing. But we are, even sans Ankita, ready to come home. But just as ready to come back...

Dance, a little bit...

sidhus_on_safari — Sat, 2 Aug 2008 23:16:00 GMT

The jugde(she) in her infinite wisdom has not denied the order a second time. She has, however, pronounced that she will look at granting the order on the 30th of August after reading the precedent cases more closely. This is good news if you are a masochist. As a sadist I think she just wants to ...well...you know... do a bit of that.

So we return to Australia sans Ankita, but with more hope in our hearts for a return in September, than we had but five minutes ago.

A fire cracker ending, no. Shooting stars on a warm soft raining night -yeah - I'll take that. We must now decide if we see the girl again before we depart or leave it as an open book. Spine faced upward and pages splayed wide on a messy coffee table, fag ends wasted in the make shift saucer ashtray and glasses perilously close to empty (or is that full),crowded to the edge on all sides.

The days will track across a skittish winter feeling and we will dance to an almost definite beat. Foxtrot, waltz,bollywood or tango? Lets keep dancing - we'll make it up as we go.

Hugh Who?

sidhus_on_safari — Thu, 31 Jul 2008 03:38:00 GMT

Looking for a two bedroom furnished apartment in Delhi? Here are a few ideas for you. Stay in a hotel is the best bet! No seriously, there are some fantastic places to stay if you have a big budget. If you can come up with around a thousand US a week you will be in the pink. Every hundred you come down from there - curiously it falls incrementally that way - so it gets a little closer to being in the grey, shall we say. You will still do okay down to about $500. That's if you are staying out of season and you get a good searching man. In season and you are looking at even more spondoolies

I have met the ultimate apartment hunting soldier. His name is Pradeep and he is a kind of deity in my eyes. He will find the right apartment and then get you a really good deal. I'm not giving his details away easily. He's mine. I found him. Get your own. Plus, he's too busy. You have to be careful too. Once one of these soldiers have found you a place, some demand as much as one months commission. You have to sort that out before you start.

The best areas are Greater Kailash (GK)1 and Vasant Vihar and lots of the areas that are around these landmark colonies cum precincts. If you look at a map go south of Connaught Place from around 4 o'clock to 8 o'clock. Great markets and very easy going people and good food and places to hang out. It is close to get to a lot of the interesting places around Delhi from here too.

Now as you zone in on a place you have to get used to the address system. There is a kind of formula to the house lettering and numbering it's just that no one has bothered to work it out. So GK enclave B57 would be near A sector numbers yes? No. B is near N which backs onto W. S is near A, and C is over near E - unless you mean GK 1 but not GK 1 enclave.

'Yes there is.'

Where?

'Doosra' - (another one.)

Another one?

'Hai' (yes)

Where another one?

'Over past M market.'

What near Archana arcade?

'No.'

Right. I'm getting the hang of it.

Some many days and dozens of apartments later - from GK to Safrajung to Hauz Kaus to Green Park to Vasant Vihar and more. I landed two great deals and lost them again. Then I landed another one. If I wake up remembering where it is chances are I can have it. Yours for just a lot more than you can afford. But hey. What a week. Ha! Ha! Come on sir, great place this GK, hai. Of course, your right. Beats a hotel any day.

So to ensconce and wait for Saturday's court ballet. Spoke to big boss man lawyer tonight, his name is Kailash co-incidentally, (I'll call him greater if we do okay) and he has given me some faith to fill the loose sails. I can feel the breeze picking up a little. The ship is creaking back to life. I have eaten close to a kilo of indian sweets in the last two days, but hey, I'm sober and I can nearly spell hughmer again. God love you all for good wishes and thoughts and prayers. And you can pick your own god or saint or so forth. Neelu quite likes Shiva today. Krishna seems to be a little off colour at the moment. Me, I'll pray to Joseph. He had a bit of fun and got stuck with the baby.

(n)(o) not (N)(O)

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 27 Jul 2008 03:13:00 GMT

So a little no in is better than a big NO. Rejection. That would be a no. Not outright, but a definite tilt of the judges face away and eyes cast down to the bench before returning to the lawyer with the chin slightly thrust out and elevated. I wonder if there was a look down the nose too? Classic Dickensian style. I will never know.

What we do know is that the judge (she) (I parethisize it (I know, there is no such word) for no other reason than to be informative - i think), but again the judge has rejected our guardianship application because we have one adopted child already. She is unsure about the reasons why we should be allowed another, or the procedure of how to apply the law to a second adoption. Just quietly I would have said "with pen...just there on that paper..." You see why I was not allowed in court.

The lawyers have one more chance to present arguments next Saturday. (They'd want to be good.) If (she) rejects it again, they will have to take the case to the High Court. That means a lot of stairs presumably. Takes a bit of time to climb those. Pack your lunch type outing.

So, here we are in Delhi on a beautiful monsoon night. Neelu with a little cough, mamma and dada with a big sigh - in as well as out. (A number of times.) The whiskey is all but gone and the longing has rolled over us as thick as the highland mist. Goodnight Ankita. Goodnight you all. Stories to come and pray glory for all.

Pailing into the Ordinary

sidhus_on_safari — Fri, 25 Jul 2008 03:03:00 GMT

Something ordinary can be so very complicated. Sister Anthea is there, Shayne, Neelu. We've not been at the orphanage long and we are ready to have a chat about the delay in the process of Ankita's court case when I notice two nuns standing at the entrance to the waiting room from the Shishu Bhavan. From around their white habits lined with a blue stripe, a small, dark skinned child appears and walks confidently towards me like a bucket brimming with dreams. I am sitting on a long sofa facing her as she comes. Before I have recognized her she is climbing into my lap. She pecks me on the cheek as if she has done so a hundred times before, says, hello Dadda, and then she turns and lays herself down on me relaxing into the contours of my shape. My daughter Ankita has arrived and stuck to me like an old and trusted memory.

She looks at Shayne and reaches out her arm. Hello Mamma, she says. And now the room is alive to the reality of what is occurring. I am stunned. Shayne is smiling broadly, her eyes tuning themselves to the shapes of the music of the spheres swirling around us. And Neelu, eyebrows furled in an ecstatic shape, peers into me as she searches from Ankita to me for my reaction. And here we are. Like that. The four of us sitting on a sofa saying hello.

Ordinary. We were not really expecting to see Ankita so soon. And certainly not like this. We thought there would be careful talk, the precautionary mumblings from both us and Sister Anthea,that because things are still so uncertain we should wait to meet the girl. But to Ankita, this was just an ordinary and expected step. Like walking down some gentle slope she was letting the momentum of the hill place her stride easily into its grace.

And now we are summoned outside by the brimming bucket. "Adieou" (come) she says and winds her fingers slowly at us from the door leading out to the front courtyard. The three of us obey and walk down the stairs to follow her to an underground parking station below the new building where there is a bright yellow and black striped swing. It is the old fashioned metal kind with a seat at each end and you swing face to face. One little sister, one big sister, to and fro-ing to the rhythm of the sibling size up. Very cool. The pair of them. One trying not to out smile the other.

To out-smile the parents is an impossibility in this moment. We are both in some strange hypnotic jet stream. No more than ten minutes ago we were walking down the lane telling each other that it didn't feel right and that we should hold off meeting Ankita until things were sorted. And now we are here, watching something out of the ordinary, but really quite simple.

And then we are taken back to the reception room by our daughters and we talk to Sister Anthea and we agree that we should now wait until the court makes up it's mind before we see Ankita again.She, in the meantime, has taken us outside to a waiting car and ordered that all four of us get in and go. Sister says she will get upset when we leave without her. Back inside she counts to ten in english and points at the emdrioded shape on her skirt, 'butterfly' she says in a voice as delicious as rose water .And her dark, dark eyes seek mine and she drinks deeply. A smile as big and shiny as a new brass pail. This week long wait has been hard, but the reward...Did I say she walks like a bucket? But such a pail as never been made.

Neelu - beginning with bangles.

sidhus_on_safari — Tue, 22 Jul 2008 15:52:00 GMT

The heat was overwhelming as we made our way to the Patna Shishu Bhavan. It took the auto-rickshaw driver a couple of attempts to find his way there. We didn't take an air-conditioned car because the streets are small in the old city and there are few cars that go there. We didn't want to arrive with any undue inconvenience to the locals. Nor did we want to be seen as the rich tourists coming into the poorer area. The great thing about auto-rickshaws is that you get to hear and see up close what is going on in the lively streets and alleys. Shayne and I took a lot of random photographs as we made our way into the heart of old Patna City. You could literally reach out and grab fruit off the vendors carts at times. There were people continually peering into the rickshaw looking at the whities with the Indian kid. Lots of smiles and long looks. And here was Neelu, happily taking it all in and pointing at things and telling us what was going on. She said to Shayne the other day about a new custom she had learnt, "Yeah, but I should know that Mamma because I'm Indian". She is very proud of where she came from and totally at ease with the place and it's demands, physically and emotionally.

The great thing about watching her in India is that she is so intriguing to the locals. They look at us, then at her then at us. They shake their heads, they laugh. They whisper to each other. Some that speak even only a little English will inquire about her story and we tell them and they go away smiling and happy. When this was first happening Neelu was a little taken aback by being talked about to strangers so openly, but she has grown very patient as it has continued with great regularity. She loves the street life. She stares straight back at India with a smile on her face. She has an easy way with the beggars and the street hustlers and all those that cross her path. She has a shyness about her at times which is wonderful to watch. She will coil around the back of her mother's legs and peep out occasionally. She will look up to me and give me a knowing little smile as I try to disengage from a persistent touter. Neelu is a great traveller.

As we pull into the courtyard of the orphanage we are all incapacitated by the heat. We peal out of the rickshaw and head for the shade of the trees in the long, cobbled yard at the side of the church. The shishu bhavan is across the yard. At the back of the church the Missionaries have a school for street children. Their noise in the heat rouses Neelu and she wants to run down and play with them. We wait for one of the sisters to wave off another sister and driver before she talks with us. Shayne is curious because normally the sisters must travel in pairs. But there is a bad flu virus and two of the nuns are in hospital and two are ill and in bed. That leaves just two of them on their feet and they are not well either. But the demands of the orphanage and the hospice attached to it are constant.

Neelu runs back and joins us. She has brought a big bag of bangles and wants to hand them out as presents to all of the street kids at the school but sister says it will cause a riot and that she should wait and give them to the women in the hospice. Neelu reluctantly agrees. Sister says come and we go into the orphanage. This is where Neelu was first brought as a three month old baby. Through these gates, under this tree, into this room. This is where Mother Teresa did her medical training. A doctor she had met said "If you really want to help the poor you must learn how to look after them." And she did. This is where her life's work really began. Neelu has grown quiet and stays very close to Shayne as we go through to the room with the children. This was the beginning of all our fates. We look at the children and talk to sister. She was not here when Neelu came. None of the sisters were. They move across the country, these women, taking their experience to each other and to the communities they serve. But there is one older carer here that knew Neelu and she is delighted to see her. We walk into the babies nursery and through the window is a small court yard that has animals painted on the walls. A monkey, a peacock, tiger too. Neelu has seen photographs of these in our album from the last visit Shayne and I made before we got Neelu and she recognizes them instantly. We go out into the courtyard to a small, multi coloured round-a-bout. Even in the stifling heat she finds boundless energy and is totally in the joy of the moment. That moment went on for quite a while....I pushed the contraption until it had gathered enough speed to satisfy her and then we watched as she went around. Turning. It was like watching a giant spinning top. A small girl moving effortless through space. My thoughts drifting back in time as I watched her. Neelu says she remembers this place. How could you doubt it? Sister Nirma Rose looks on, delighted to meet Neelu, Shayne and I and show us Neelu's old home of three months. She was transfered from here to Delhi.

We go up into the Hospice where there are many mentally and physically disabled women. All rescued from the streets around the Hospice. They are given medical attention, a bed and three meals a day. The women are usually here until they die. Some are transfered to other Missionary places. Sister tells us the story of one girl as Neelu gently pushes a bangle over a badly damaged hand. She was found on the street, maggots falling out of the wounds of mangled fingers. She was brought in, taken to the hospital and lost all but her thumb and one finger. The doctors said she would not have lived much longer once her blood was infected. She is mentally challenged and has probably been living on the streets for years. Neelu is intrigued by her story and gives her another bangle.

We made our way back down to the courtyards and through the beautiful vegetable garden, we met a women who prayed over us as we stood under the shade of the verandah. She prayed and read from the Hindi script bible and as she did she seemed to go into a kind of trance and words became long elongated sounds, repeated. Then more words, then again the long repeated sounds. When she had finished praying over us she spoke to sister in Hindi and sister translated that we were a strong and connected family and that God told her we would be happy and wise and would not want for anything. Tears welled in Shayne's eyes and Neelu held her. I cast my eyes down and nodded slowly. Meeting her eyes occasionally I sensed a deep compassion, a strange enlivened conviction to the existence of an approachable god. Tears in my eyes from her beautiful words, I thanked her for the message and said we really aught to keep moving.

And so we left. Sister gave us her blessing and some picture cards of Mother Teresa over which Neelu said she would pray. (And she has.) and we said our goodbyes and made our way to the Gurudwhalla - a Sikh temple not far away - where we prayed some more and then we went back to the hugely over-priced, mafia run, "five star" hotel. Neelu talked a little about her birth mother when we got back, how she wants her to came and live with us. If only we could find her ? And I answered as best I could. We know so little. Her birth mother's name was Krista and I swallowed hard as we talked.

An Absence of Malice.

sidhus_on_safari — Mon, 21 Jul 2008 12:48:00 GMT

I would have posted this sooner but I have lost the flow in the past couple of days.

Things that can hurt. Being told that your adoption case has been adjourned is at the top of my list of life pains. Sure there was no intention on the part of the judge to hurt me, she just had other, more important things to do,so she let our case go for another week. And now our lawyer is not confident that it will be dealt with this Saturday either. So now we have a meeting this morning to try and sort out where we stand and why cases similar to ours have been dealt with and ours has not.

I am not, I don't think, a vindictive person. I am grateful to the gods for putting me in the position I now find myself. But ,and it's a big one, I have a three year girl who has been in an orphanage for over a year now and the lack of urgency on the part of the judicial system is, I believe, criminal. You only have to look at the Hague convention under the rights of children, to which India is a signatory, to press that case.

So, I remain hopeful, I meditate on not being angry. I cast prayer to the heavens that good souls will shield me from malice.

Ankita's Shishu Bhavan

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 20 Jul 2008 15:00:00 GMT

The Ranchi orphanage is a very peaceful and happy place. The orphanage is arranged around a front and rear court yard. The larger front courtyard has a large shady tree to one side and smaller shrubs and flowering bushes are planted in garden beds in front of the verandahs. The rear courtyard has clothes lines across it. On the first day we were there the line had several of the sisters distinct sari like habits hanging to dry. If you imagine the orphanage as an "H" only slightly out of proportion, you have a good idea of the layout.

Sister Carmencita was quite a character. Short and dark and round of face, she ran the Shishu Bhavan and was completely at ease with her duty. She was very happy to receive us even though we had arrived after visiting hours, about 11:15am and we sat and talked on the verandah for some time before we went over to see the babies in the shishu bhavan. She was very interested in Neelu's story and and we talked about her for some time and then our attention turned to Ankita and Shayne very delicately brought up some of the questions I have mentioned. Sister Carmencita answered them with a gentle kind of privacy. Not revealing too much, as is there duty, but enough to give Shayne what she needed. And then sister went to get some photos she taken of Ankita while she was in their care. They revealed a whole dimension of her. Neelu had, by now, ran off with a young boy named Rahul. He was excited by the company of an older girl and they went off to cause havoc around the place.

We sat and talked a little more and then walked across to the children. In a large, darkened room( kept so to keep it cool) there were rows of the familiar blue cots filled with babies. All cared for the sisters and some carers who work with sisters. All dedicated and very happy to be there. So we are there looking at the children and talking to the sisters when another sister comes into the room with an obvious limp leaning on a tall stick. She has very familiar smile on her beautiful face. Where do I know that face? And then I place it just as Shayne voices her surprise. We rush to her at once to greet her. She is Sister Mary Francine. When we were last in India three years ago to adopt Neelu, we met sister Mary Francine in Patna. Although she wasn't at the orphanage when Neelu was relinquished there in Patna, she was really very kind and enthusiastic and supportive of us. We spent a lot of time talking with her and walking through the orphanage and hospice. We had struck up a real friendship three years ago and now here she was! We were not expecting to see her in Ranchi. We were looking forward to meeting in Patna in the next couple of days. She was very surprised and happy to see us all.

We spent some time with the children and the sisters while Neelu and Rahul played together. We then went over to the visitors room and had tea and boojha and Indian sweets and we arranged to bring the photo albums we were going to take to Sister Mary Francine in Patna and then, just as the rain was beginning to tumble out of the monsoon clouds, we headed back to our hotel Rahul and Sister Carmencita waving us off. We were very happy and buoyed by the few hours we had spent with the sisters and the children. We looked back as we left and Rahul had already disappeared to cause mischief somewhere in the sanctuary of the Shishu Bhavan.

High out of Chandigarh

sidhus_on_safari — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 23:13:00 GMT

We are at the Timber Trails resort, high up in the Mountains outside of Chandigarh. The resort looks down onto all of the surrounding hills. A river snakes through the steep valleys to the north and to the west there are terraces stepping down the steep hillsides. Some are waiting for attention and others bursting with the fruits of hard labour. We have travelled to Ambala City to see a fellow I met in the Mittagong chicken shop, where he works seven days a week. He goes by the name of Jay in Australia but in his home town of Ambala Cantt he is Bittu. He has returned one year after his fathers death for religious and family reasons. He has been taking his mother to specify temples to pray and he organised a large extended family ceremony (over 200 people all day) and as the only son, was responsible for the proceedings throughout the day. He has organised this little resort jaunt for us. His brother-in-law has a cousin who...get it? We spent yesterday with him and his friends, wonderful people all, and had breakfast this morning before driving the two hours to here. We are celebrating quietly because this morning Shayne talked with a women connected to Anikats orphanage and she thinks we should get to Delhi and be present at the court hearing on Saturday. I have to ring our lawyer Umrao in the morning and he will let me know if we should come. He was very surprised to hear from me just now. He is not confident they can deal with the case by the end of the month...It's going to be a very interesting ride from her on in. Tomorrow we go to spend the day in Chandigarh and then we go catch the train to Delhi to hopefully attend court and plead with the judge to get moving immediately on the case. You'll be hearing a lot more form Delhi where the internet access is easy.

Desiring the Invisible

sidhus_on_safari — Thu, 17 Jul 2008 23:11:00 GMT

Waiting: and now the story has a true beginning. Ranchi. The sound,the presence of children waiting in the rows of cots painted blue.

I have seen Ankita. I can say that. But a photograph has no scent. It doesn't let your eye glide across the face like a bird hugging the shape of the landscape. I have always wondered about the saying, " As the crow flies." because in reality - no bird flies straight. They have the glorious advantage of split second, spherical choice. Diving to the earth, arcing immediately up and over trees, along valley sides, tipping left across a field.

I just long to see Ankita. Sitting here in a hotel in Delhi waiting to catch the Amjer Shatabdi Express to Jaipur - Hotel Clark International is a prison. She is so close - just across the city. really only about fifteen of twenty minutes away at this time of night - late - shops closed, India mostly sleeping. Probably more than the population of America still awake in reality! But we have to wait. We have to let the judicial process play it's part before we can walk down the familiar lane,hearts feeling larger than our heads in our chests, beating like giant drums in the rhythm of a strange kind of birth. A simple ' this is Ankita' or something like - and there it is. A new daughter - a little sister - three becomes four.

Letting Ankita In

Ranchi - take a hotel car - A/C 800 rupees, plus tax. No - we take our own taxi - non A/C and save AU$4:60. Principles people...you must maintain your principles. 900 rupees! No, no, no we can have a taxi car for 700! and we will!! As we travel to the Shishu Bhavan my emotions are a vacant car park in a huge city short on space. I can sense everything trying to get in but I cant help but feel numb. Going to try and find out more about a daughter I am yet to meet. Her mother, her father,her care, her health....

We go down a lane toot the horn and wait at the blue steel gates. We toot again - longer. Then the taxi driver begins a Tijuana Brass band feel riff on the very loud horn and I tap his arm to bring him out of his trace, get out of the taxi and go through a smaller unlocked steel door that is cut into the larger gate. The steel gates leading into the of Missionaries of Charity are similar which ever city or town you are in. They are painted blue and have white writing on them. They say something along the lines of,

" MISSIONARIES OF CHARITY" (insert city)

Shishu Bhavan

visiting - 9 -11 and 3-5

Mass -( times etc)

Adoption appointments between.....

As I go through the gate I see a small, old women halfway across a large courtyard. She is smiling and walking toward me. She motions for another younger man to open the gates to let the car in. We are here. The beginning of the four.

Shayne sits at a at a table across from Sister Carmencita. She asks the questions only a mother with an adopted daughter would ask. Questions that would allow her to talk intimately with her daughter about her birth mother in the months and years ahead. What was she wearing when she came? How was she; her mood? What was Ankita wearing? Did she say why? My god, tears come easily to my eyes as I write.

Understand that I am happy. Really. But you must be sad too. I have to be. It is the law of gratitude in my case. An submission to God. To all the gods of creation and chance and chaos - Kali, Shiva, more. All. A mother cares for her daughter, rocks her to sleep, feeds her, protects and loves her for two and half years - stopped writing because I am crying in the Executive 1st class A/C carriage on the Shatabdi Express to Jaipur - not a good look for the waiters to see as they put my breakfast tray down! Now I know why I have been avoiding writing this part. BANG. That empty car park is filling up fast.

Gallery: To India with Love

sidhus_on_safari — Sun, 13 Jul 2008 02:42:00 GMT

Photos of the Journey

Ranchi No, Ranchi Yes

sidhus_on_safari — Fri, 11 Jul 2008 20:13:00 GMT

Ranchi No, Ranchi Yes

Ranchi is the capital of Jharkand state. It used to be of Bihar state until, I think, about a decade ago. The locals rebelled against the Bihar state government and got their own little place in India. It is mineral and coal rich and the feeling you when you are driving through the main part of the city is like a charge. There is so much going on and so many people walking, cycling, on all forms of motorised two wheel transport, and cars. Lots and lots of cars. Like anywhere else in India there is an understanding of mutual survival rather than any particular road rules as such. The bigger you are, the more right of way you have. The more you beep your horn the more important it is that you get past in a hurry and the bigger you are( ascertained by the person in front with a quick, almost scornful glance back) the faster they will get out of your way. We were in an ambassador deluxe diesel car, non A/C taxi, so we sat somewhere near the middle of the bumping order. Above us were private sedans and vans, army jeeps, really crazy bus drivers (usually slower than a taxi car but not when driven by a mad man), and then you have the rich guys in there larger, modern four- wheel drives - driven by employed drivers is most cases - who are willing to kill in order to establish their credentials as being committed to the job. Under no circumstances should you take on the transport trucks. You can not get a license to drive one of these unless you can prove that you are 1) Psychotic 2) Suffer an inferiority complex 3) Are legally blind.

Note to travelers to Ranchi - please do not stay at the Ashoka Hotel. It is in a lovely location, has a friendly doorman, however, the rooms themselves - as expensive as the best two hotels in Ranchi - are crap. Sorry to be crass but you need to hear it as it is. We learnt the hard way. Dirty. No - filthy. The mattress that my daughter had to sleep on was ripped and ummm, well - we moved hotels the following morning. The toilet had one of those " Cleaned and sealed for you protection" bands over it, the only trouble is that someone forgot to tell whoever put it on that the piece of paper does not clean the toilet by itself...and I really don't want to go into detail, but we think they took vitamins and were quite...ummmm..hirsute "down there"...yes...we checked in quickly, got back from an afternoon/ evening out and the air-con wasn't working...we moved rooms at 10pm...again with the "sealed for you protection routine...same vitamins...same colour hair....

The Capitol Residency is a palace! And not just because we came from the Ashoka. It was fantastic. Great staff, superb modern Indian hospitality with a traditional feel in terms of room layout and fittings. We loved it. Only wish we had more time to stay. Go to Ranchi just to spoil yourself. And cheaper than the Ashoka.

Now very comfortably ensconced, we meet some wonderful local people through a contact from the Indian adoptive families group. The hospitality and warmth was beautiful. We spent the evening at their house meeting all of the family, Neelu had kids to play with at last! And we spent the following afternoon with Mini - one of the sisters of Gita, a close friend of Sheetal's, the friend and contact of ours in Sydney. we went to the part of town that her husband hasa couple of shops in. It is in the older part of Ranchi with little street and shops galore, local really quite suprised to us there, but very friendly. Mini knew everyone of course. When we parted company last night, we felt were saying goodbye to an old friend.

Don't get the wrong impression about Ranchi. I loved it. It was vibrant and friendly and of course, my daughter to be, Ankita, is a Ranchi girl, so yeah, it's a very cool place.

I'll tell you about Ankita and the Missionaries of Charity in Ranchi another time.