Settling In

A month already since my return, and all I have posted is one solitary little blog.Yesterday a supposed friend told me about someone he knows who blogs on a daily basis about her dog!

It may be sour grapes, but I wonder who is interested. He also added that she is newly retired! I am not.

I could keep you updated with the adventures of Max, my little piscean friend, but he would prefer to remain, for the most part anonymous. He thrived during my absence and when I returned and stumbled into my home after being sick for the entire flight back, I halfheartedly tapped on his bowl to say hi, and he fluttered and undulated and really seemed as excited to see me as I was to see him. Quite a few things thrived in my absence, Max seems to remain well and content, and an orchid I rescued from a dumpster has sprouted a branch full of buds which are in the process of opening, one after the other, displaying their magnificence. Some of my wee ones displayed new skills when I returned into their lives. Some began crawling, a few are trying out their first stumbly steps, Some, sadly, will never make any gains, other than phsyical, getting larger and heavier.

I spent a weekend in a magical home in Big Sur, enjoying the rugged beauty of the Pacific coastline, and the coastal terrain.We do live in a magnificent area, and I appreciate each moment.

Today I caught up with all the annoying and necessary things of life, like paying bills, finalizing dates and arrangements, making phone calls, laying out my crafting projects, like beadwork and knitting, and blogging about blogging.We shall see how long this spurt lasts.

Mind Shred

This morning, very very early, I went to the gym. People greeted me saying they haven't seen me in a while, where have I been?

Where indeed? I have been away just three weeks, but it feels like eons. I have spent lifetimes in very different spaces, I have been lifted up and twirled around, I have spun in galaxies hitherto unknown, and now I am back, on the stairmaster!

Before I left I told friends that my memories of my last trip to India are such that once there you have to let go of any preconceptions, of any frames of reference, you have to dive in. Indeed, that part of my memory was correct, but what I forgot is that it is easy to talk about, and hard to do. But if you don't India will take your conscious mind and shred it for you. I won't even attempt to describe the overwhelming sensory experiences that ceaselessly surround and bombard one. Somehow the relentless intensity, buzzing vitality, devotion, filth, poverty, misery, beauty, all combine to form an archetypal experience. One is immersed into the bloodstream of life, jostling along with the corpuscles, platelets, lymph cells, all moving, renewing, dying, changing, flowing, on and on. And strange and wondrous things happen.

An almost cataclysmic flooding of the Ganga, replete with landslides prevented us from reaching our stated goal - Badrinath. We had to remain in a tiny place where people normally go for rafting. Into this unexpected hamlet stranded pilgrims poured in. Sadhus, Sikhs, travelers, mendicants, families. When it became clear we couldn't go further I commented to my brother, who was leading our group, that the one regret I had was that we would not hear Parvathy Baul, who had been invited to sing at a birthday event in Badrinath. That very afternoon Parvathy, her husband Ravi, and her friend Rita joined the stranded throngs. She sang for us that night, and the next. Her songs of devotion, accompanied by her stamping, jumping feet, a stringed instrument, and a drum, and her swirling, writhing dreadlocks pierced open my heart.

Before I left for India I received an e-mail from a childhood friend who lives in London. She and her husband were coming to California, and they wanted to know whether they could see me. I told her I would be in Northern India and she replied that her son and daughter-in-law are in India and she sent me the names of the places they were in, but they weren't where I was going. Our tour landed, by default, in Rishikesh and on a Friday night I went to eat in the Succa at Beit Habad. At least a hundred people were there, amongst them, my friend's son and his lovely wife!

Such are the wonders and workings of India.

And now, I am back.

Electricity

Last night I was happily ensconsed in the most recent episode of Mad Men, I believe it is called "The Suitcase." Peggy and Don were in a really interesting argument after Peggy told him she was single again. All of a sudden - flash, boom. All the electricity went out. I peekedd out the venetian blinds, darkness everywhere in my little enclave. I fumbled for a flashlight which I keep in a handy place for such emergencies, but I couldn't remember exactly where it was. After a while I located it, cranked it up and saw flashlights going on outside as neighbours poked their heads out their doors. Well, for sure, there was no electricity. No more Mad Men for tonight. Ugh. My supply of matches had dwindled to nothing and I made a mental note to buy some the next day. It never ceases to amaze me how dependent we are on electricity.

I leave for India on Friday so I thought this may be a preview, in fact, I had packed my flashlight just before Mad Men, but knew I wouldn't find it in the dark! No choice but to prepare for bed. Even my toothbrush is electric (a very recent purchase.)

Last weekend I was at a yoga retreat in Philo. A few of us shared a lodge. The first morning my roommate and I were wakened by what sounded like a rooster or a strange bird chirping. It was the alarm of the woman down the hallway. She didn't hear it. After breakfast there was quiet time. All was silent in the lodge, then I heard an interesting kind of hum. Intrigued I went in search of it, was it one of the inhabitants chanting like a maniac, had someone put on some new age music? It was a woman fastidiously using an electric toothbrush.

This weekend has been truly glorious. A treat after our strange and very cold and foggy summer, or lack thereof. Two weeks ago I visited friends in Olympia, in Washington State. There we enjoyed wonderful weather and when my friend, (a former Bay Area resident) and I kayaked along the Puget Sound, I told her about our very cool summer. On Monday afternoon just before landing in Oakland the flight attendant welcomed us and said the local temperature is 94 degrees. This kind of went by me, but the woman in the seat on the other side of aisle tapped my shoulder to ask whether she had heard correctly. We stepped out into a furnace.

All is very odd.

So, a happy and sweet New Year and well over the fast to those concerned. I will not post anything until my return.

Pa-pow-pow

Tuesday afternoon at 3 p.m. I walked out of my office to go and see the children in one of our programs. They would be going home in 15 minutes and I hadn't yet had time to see them. As I walked along the paved passageway I heard "Pa-pow-pow." Instantly after I heard the screeching of tires and simultaneously I thought, 'gunshots, a car backfiring, it is going to crash on Robert Miller Drive.' I ran to the fence which afforded me a view of the hilltop leading down to Robert Miller Drive. Down below I saw cars slowing on either side of the median strip.I saw two young guys running into the back of one of the apartment buildings just below Birmingham Drive. I realised there had been a shooting and I ran back to the office to tell them. I heard sirens. I ran in to tell my colleagues what had happened. The office manager and another staff member came with me back to the fence. We saw police cars. One of the buses which was to transport the children drove in and told a program director the road was being cordoned off because there had been a shooting. Everyone was told to leave and go home in the opposite direction to the 'incident.'

When i got home I looked this up on the internet, but nothing came up. There was nothing on the news that night and nothing in the paper the next day. It was like it had never happened, but it had, and those shots were still ringing in my head.

I remembered about a year ago leaving the office one afternoon. On Hilltop Drive, just in front of the fire station a terrible accident had happened. Several cars were crushed in opposing directions over the road. People were trapped inside. There were onlookers, it was awful. The only good thing was it was right outside the fire station, but obviously it had been a very bad accident and several people were not going to make it. Shaken, I got home and looked for news reports. Nothing, nothing at all, not on the internet or the news or in the papers. The next day the office manager, who had left five minutes before me had also seen it, so I knew I hadn't been hallucinating.

So, there was a shooting, someone, or a few people, had been shot at. They probably didn't die, which is why it didn't even make a brief paragraph, but someone's son/daughter/father/mother has been badly hurt. I am writing this for them.

Another Rant

Oh dear, I am becoming a raving ranter!

I won't even begin to discuss my experience with U-Verse. Suffice to say that customer service has really deteriorated in this country. When I came here 30 years ago I was very impressed by the efficiency of customer service. Okay, I had come from Israel which is not known for its high level of customer service, but still, things worked here, quickly. When they didn't, one could call or go into an office, have a word with a manager, and everything worked again. It was astonishing to me how smoothly things ran. I cannot say the same now.

One thing that has not changed is the variety of meaningless choices. When I first came here I wrote about the baffling amount of choices; from ice cream flavors to telephone styles. (If you are interested, my essay on this subject is accessible through my website, www.nestarovina.com.)

30 years later, and I have never become used to the choices, but mostly it doesn't bother me like it used to. However, the other day I went to buy dental floss at CVS. I liked Longs, and although CVS is almost the same, it is different, and I don't really like it, however, that was what was nearby. I went into a small CVS and walked to the teeth aisle (it is not called that, but you know what I mean.) Just dental floss, that is all I wanted. I stood in front of the display of products. Waxed, non waxed, satin tape, broad floss, narrow floss, dentist recommended floss, expensive floss, cheap floss. Once again I found myself baffled, unsure of what to buy, just as I felt 30 years ago when confronted with salt, tea, ice cream, water (WATER!!!!!!!!) bread, milk, yogurt ..... oh help. This time an elderly gentleman was on his knees perusing the toothbrush display. He looked up at me and said "they just don't make the ordinary toothbrushes that fit our toothbrush holder at home anymore. I cannot find an ordinary handle." I smiled in an "I know exactly what you mean fashion." Three months ago, in this exact same spot I met another elderly gentleman looking for a regular toothbrush, which is exactly what I was doing at that time. Neither of us found anything.

I was already flustered because of my experience with the wireless services, robotic machines, and robotic humans. I decided I had enough floss to last me a while and walked out without buying anything.

Frustrations

Does anyone else find our automated life frustrating beyond belief? Everything is fine when it works; computers, TV's, washing machines, cars, telephones, iPods, ATM's, on and on and on and on. Heaven forbid something does not work.

My DSL service is provided by AT&T. I have had the service for several years, and the monthly amount is deducted automatically. This has been unproblematic for several years.

I go to Costco to fill up on gas and pay for this with my debit card. Suddenly one week when I inserted the card an error message came up saying the pump doesn't recognise my card. I tried reinserting it several times, to no avail. An attendant came to help - he thought my card may have been demagnetised, and wiped it on his trousers - nothing helped. I then used a credit card, something I hate doing. After this I went to my bank. They said my card was fine and my swipes hadn't even registered on their screens. I then went to Costco's customer service who informed me that they have nothing to do with the pumps on their property. It appears that the pumps had suddenly developed a mind of their own, and they decided not to accept my debit card.

Because everyone tried to 'fix' my card by manually wiping it on their clothing, I requested a new debit card from the bank. They sent a new card which had two different numbers from my old card. They said this was done to prevent fraud and it would not affect my monthly deductions from my bank account. They were wrong, I received a notice from Fastrak to update my information as my card was declined. Then I received an e-mail from AT&T that my internet services will be discontinued if I do not update my information. They gave me a number to call. Dutifully, I called and the bloody automated machine answered with the usual "if you are calling about ... punch 1, about that, punch 2,' etc. None of the options were suitable so I didn't punch anything, except for the table at which I was sitting. The voice said "you didn't enter anything," and repeated the useless choices. Out of desperation I punched any number hoping to get a human voice. I did not. I hung up and called again and didn't enter anything. Eventually a customer service person answered "this is Jeff, how can I make your day?" It was night time. I told him I needed to update my credit card information. Jeff could not locate my internet account. All he could find was my phone account. After an extremely frustrating half an hour with Jeff, who apparently really wanted to help me, but just was unable to, he transferred me to a gentleman in India. This man kept repeating every word I said in the hopes that we would both understand each other. Eventually he said, 'I work in technical services, you need a customer service agent." I am really surprised that I answered in a civil tone as he continued saying he would transfer me. Then came the "all our agents are busy," for another half hour. Eventually a woman came on with her cheery "how can I make your day" bullshit. I don't know how, but she managed to help, and she updated my information in ten minutes.

Throughout this hour or more of utter frustration I remembered calling the airlines when my mother died. I wanted to get on a plane to Israel. An automated voice kept asking for my destination. Whenever I said "Tel Aviv" the bloody reply was "I heard Indiana" or "I heard Iowa". To say I was beside myself would be the understatement of the century (last century, this one is too short.)

During the World Cup my TV reception went on the fry or whatever it is they do, in the middle of the game between Mexico vs. France. UNACCEPTABLE. This is not the first time my reception has gone out, but I am so tired of calling, waiting, then having to arrange for someone to come to my house, etc. that I have given up calling. But during the World Cup - unacceptable. I called, and waited, and screamed. They said someone would come Saturday between 10 and 2 - the exact time I was supposed to go to friends to watch the match that the USA lost. I had to stay home and wait. In the meantime the TV started working again, but I was not prepared to tell Comcast it was now working. The agent came at 12.30 - asked who was winning, and sat down with me to watch the game!!! At the end he told me that unless the TV does its conking out thing he can't help,but he would just give me a new box anyway!!!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Etceteras

The World Cup continues. I still obsessively watch, and LOVE it. Of course after Ghana's sad leaving I am no longer invested, and can watch without my usually low blood pressure rising to meteoric heights! I can't analyze the games, and give you an informed commentary, suffice to say, I thoroughly enjoy it, to the exclusion of all else. Hence, no blogs.

However, today again proved to be one of those joyous days related to work. The same kids I described in my May 11th blog, again passed major developmental milestones. The little boy who has Johansen Blizard Syndrome (they are all little, but this one is particularly little, it is part of his rare syndrome) has consistently never stayed in prone (on his stomach) for longer than maybe a nanosecond. When I first received the referral and read the name of the syndrome I imagined finding a freezing Norwegian. Instead he was a very odd looking, teeny low-tone little Mexican with a nose just like the beak of a bird, an odd pattern of hair growth, amongst many other anomalies. At first he screamed if I tried to place him in prone, Later he learned to wriggle out of the position. If he even sensed I may be placing him on his stomach he turned himself around so fast that sometimes he almost slipped out of my grasp. In vain I tried, his parents tried, his physical therapist tried - all to no avail. Tomorrow he turns two years old, and although he does many new things, crawling is not one of them. Today we played with a ball. He sat between my legs and threw the ball to his young cousin who then threw it back to him. If it went astray (nearly every throw) his cousin or his mother would have to crawl under the table or go down the passage way to retrieve it. He wouldn't move, even though he has learned to scoot around on his butt. After a while I placed him on his hands in a wheelbarrow position and lifted his legs. After a few minutes of this I lowered him, stomach down, to the floor, waiting for him to flip, writhe, scream, anything to escape. To my astonishment he remained in prone and began combat crawling. I could not believe it, off he went, along the tiled living room floor into the kitchen. There he turned around and continued down the carpeted passageway toward a bedroom! I stood there dumbstruck (briefly.) His mom said that on Friday he began doing this. What joy and excitement. This bodes very very well for his future development. I could honestly say to his family that he will eventually walk.

Later the mother of the other odd little boy who also has a rare syndrome, 41 xxxxy, of which not much is known, called me to say he is sick, he has been coughing. I asked whether I can come tomorrow and she said, "please, we have something very exciting to show you. He got to his hands and knees the other day and crawled a bit, before collapsing." For the first year of his life he didn't move, at all. He never reached for toys, he never moved. If placed on his stomach he stayed there until moved. When placed on his side, that is where he remained, the same when he was on his back. Eventually he learned to sit without support, and there he remained like a little Buddha. Just recently he has begun smiling and combat crawling, and he even initiated a game of 'peek-a'boo' to my astonishment. And now he is crawling!!!!!!!!!!!