Disbanded

For the last three and a half months the kids and I have been on our own.  Things happen, people make decisions about their lives and it affects many. 

To catch up,  we left Dhaka,  and the kids and I honkered down in Seattle area, awaiting the arrival of our Diplomat Head of Household.  He came after he took a trip to Hawaii and California.  Our lives have been forever changed from what I learned that night when he returned to us.  The summer was full of emotions and stress.  Would I move to South Africa, would I stay in America.  There really wasn't time to make these decisions.  So the whole family moved to Johannesburg. 

It was not a happy time for me.  I was so alone.  I made good friends, but felt so lost.  I knew it was just a matter of time before I left to come home.

I really dont have the capacity to write what's really going on,  maybe one day I will, since I think it's interesting and I have learned alot about myself in this process. 

Currently a single mother of three, and working part time.  I am doing the best I can, but sometimes, it's not enough.  Sometimes it is. I am not the same person I used to be, which makes it harder,  but I have fight in me, and I will find myself again. 

I will make a new blog, since the Knettles aren't Travelling anymore.  One Knettle is,  the other 4 are home.

The end is near

Our time in Dhaka is growing to a close.  Full Stop.  Am I sad?  No,  Am I happy? A little.  Maybe the stress of moving and planning a move, and planning a home leave with three kids and a cat can damper the joy of a post or the joy of leaving a post.

I have never had an employee before.  I have always been the employee.  Now we as a family have people to worry about after we leave.  Shuspol, the maid.  Suma, the nanny.  Julhas, driver and Akbar the gardener.  We don't really need this many people but felt it was nice to be able to help them out and give them a job.  Currently the gardener, Akbar is in my good books.  He wasn't in the good book, 18-19 months ago when he was lying 'senseless' in a Dhaka hospital due to his poor handling of traffic situations.  He got hit by a rickshaw, CNG or Bus, the story has changed much over time.  Anyway,  he has not asked for ANYTHING.  He does his job, and works hard.  He is great to have around.  The others are not quite the same.

Everyday, the ask me to find them work, when I leave.  I am trying.  I put ads up,  emailed new comers, and put them on Facebook.  Everyday they ask for my TV or camera, or clothes.   I know I have alot compared to them, and I am generous.  But really, my bra?  Please,  I would like to keep my underwear, thank you very much.

Moving is stressful and I have put off the stress for a long time.  This weekend the school had a organised garage sale.  I have been looking forward to this since last year.  What a great way to get rid of all that stuff you have to get rid of.  Stuff that is worth something, and could be useful to other expats staying behind.  Expensive conditioners that didn't get used, toothpaste that I over bought, some great baking supplies I don't use anymore,  baby items for the never ending baby boom.  I had gathered up my stuff and was ready!  So excited.  The night before the sale, I kept waking up with nightmares about how horrible the sale was.  I found this very strange,  it's just a garage sale.  Those were NOT nightmares, they were premonitions.  The sale was horrible.  People everywhere,  local bearers and and local families, grabbing every item and paying 1/20th of the price and walking off with it.  Swapping items for other items.  Taking whole bags of items for the price of one item in bag.  I was overwhelmed and under prepared for such a commotion.  On the good side,  everything sold, whether for free or wildly underpriced such as the stroller for $2.50.  Lucky for me, I held strong on my un-paper towels that I made from a pinterest idea, and to very cute wooden toy dinosaurs.  I refused for them to be grabbed and bargained on.  I think the paper towels might have covered the cost of the table, at the sale.  (you had to pay to sell in garage sale)

I haven't even thought much about what life is going to be like where we are going.  I know there will be more things to do, and places to eat out, and SAFARIS.  I registered the kids for school, but can't figure out on a map where that is in relation to where we might live.  Mostly all I think about is leaving here, and going home.  I miss my family and friends, the kids miss their friends.  It is going to be a nice summer to get back to the US, before starting another crazy chapter.  Not that I have a plan in place for the summer.  Go to parents house, and then we have a week at the beach with the MH family actually scheduled.  Fly by the seat of my pants,  it will be fine.  

Dhaka has been good,  I will miss it when we are gone, but I think life has a way of stressing you out so you can't be sad to leave.  You can be sad later when you think back on fond memories.  So for right now,  I am happy to be going home.

Ruby Tuesday

So two weeks ago, the GSO guys came to do maintenance on the house, and our sweet Bangladeshi dog got out.  Now, Ruby dashes out the gate all the time,  as there are fun street dogs to romp with and awesome piles of garbage to pee on.  She typically prances around with the one eye street puppy, and  pees on some bricks and returns to the safety of her yard.  This day, I wasn't there so I can only so one can only speculate what happened, she didn't come back.  She went down the street and to the left, the guard said.  My Ayah called me in a flap, in the morning, saying Ruby got out and hadn't come back.  It had been half and hour and she was worried.  I told her not to worry, that Ruby knew her way around, and would come home when she was bored.

Ruby came often on bike rides with us,  trotting along side us, as we biked up and down the streets in our neighbourhood.  She was good about mean street dogs, and never gave in to the fights they were trying to pick on her.  She weaved well through traffic and rickshaws, with out flinching.  Some times she would get bored and head home early.  She was savvy about our neighbourhood.  

So when I got home at lunchtime, and Ruby wasn't there, I was shocked.  I spent the afternoon looking for her,  calling out like an idiot for a dog that clearly wasn't hearing me.  I love walking up and down the streets, with open sewers and workers with bricks on their heads.  I especially  love it when a group of deshi men call out after me... "Ruby, Ruby" and giggle.  They must think, some crazy white lady, calling out Ruby, how strange.  I went on the bike, and went all over Baridhara.  The next day, my driver Julhas and I, rode on the back of a rickshaw all over the village across the busy street, for hours.  Then we took the car and drove up and down the streets in Gulshan, which neighbours Baridhara.  To no avail, we could not find her.  We asked rickshaw wallas, and showed drivers her picture.  Everyone knew to look for her, and to call Julhas.

I called my vet, put ads up school, embassy and in guard stations.  I told all the bus drivers and gave them a picture.  I put a message on facebook in the Dhaka section.  No one saw Ruby,  she just vanished.  It was so strange. People suggested I offer a reward, which I refused to, as I thought it would encourage people to steal dogs and ask for reward.  So many locals said,  she was probably stolen,  but how strange I thought,  she wasn't very friendly,  and wouldn't go up to people. It didn't feel right that she got hit by a car.   Then someone suggested I call a vet in Gulshan, who sometimes picks up strays but I got the number wrong and ended up call some lady who didn't speak English.  Ruby just couldn't be found.

Yesterday, I tried again,  I looked this guy up on the internet, and got the number right.  He spoke English, but he could figure out if I was wanting to buy a puppy or leave a puppy.  So I had my Ayah talk to him.  In a flurry of Bangla, I could tell something was happening.  More hurried Bangla, and a few Madam's dog. " Madam very very sad.  Children very very sad, they cry cry."  I have notice in Bangla,  you repeat words, for effect I guess.  So then she told me, he had found Ruby, but had given her away, to another man.  I got on the phone and talked to him.  He gave me the number of the guy who took Ruby.  Great!  We can call and maybe go collect her.  "It's very very far, madam"  I didn't care.  Lets call him and find Ruby.

So Shuspa, called the number, and talked to the man, in a flurry of Bangla, again.  The man told her she must be sick in the head,  crazy crazy.  So she past the phone to Julhas, so spoke calmly and not in a flurry.  Ah, nah, Ji, ah ah ah.  So apparently, he did get a dog from this vet, but wasn't sure it was Ruby.  I told him the dog was spayed, to look for scar.  He said he had too many dogs, to look for a scar, so he would call vet and find out if the dog he took was Ruby, and would call back.  We waited..... no call back.  So we called the vet back and I had Julhas talk,  but the conversation just kept going on about the dog he had now,  he could give me that dog.  But that's not Ruby,  Madam wants Ruby, her dog.

In the end,  I decided to call the vet back, get his address and show him Ruby's picture.  Then we would know for sure.  He didn't answer the phone.  He must have realised I was 'crazy crazy', so I called a different number. I also have noticed that in Dhaka, most businesses have many numbers.  He answered and we arranged to see him.  We drove to the market and walked around the rotting meat smell, the sewer smell, the goat shit and whatever else, and finally found his clinic.  A dog was sitting outside with an Elizabethan collar on, and the classic t-shirt spay dressing.  (random t-shirt tied on them to keep incision clean and dry, and it doesn't work).  We went in, and showed him Ruby's picture.  Ah, nodding and thinking.  Then they bring out a five month old lab puppy.  Sweet little boy, which looked very familiar to me.  He told me that Ruby had come in a few days ago, with an American lady,  to get shots, and lived in Baridhara.  I have a friend who just got a puppy who was the same colour as Ruby, and I wondered if he meant her.  Maybe he was just changing his story so I wouldn't bother him about this guy who has my real Ruby. He didn't have the number of the lady in Baridhara, who had my dog.... why?.... because NO ONE in Baridhara has my dog,  you gave her away to some man, very very far away.  

I looked at the lab puppy,  and I knew I knew him.  I am sure I saw him being walked somewhere in my neighbourhood recently.  I remember thinking what a sweet dog, not pulling but just trotting along beside, which is rare here.  I decided that the dog, this lab puppy was somebodies dog, and he was going to give it away to someone if I didn't take it.  So I took the dog.  Yogee, is his name.  I think it's someones dog, and I am going to find them.  This way Yogee has a chance to get back home, rather than go far far away.  The vet said a Bangladeshi family brought Yogee in, because he was too big, which seemed like a likely story.

Yogee is a nice lab puppy.  This vet is a nice man, and he may mean well, and be doing the best he can for stray dogs.  Finding homes for dogs is hard.  He vaccinated them and re-homes them.  Seems pretty nice, but also a little off too.  I can speculate many things, and I am not going to.  I'll leave that to you, to come up with your own corruption story.  In the mean time,  I'm looking for Yogee's home, because he is to nice of a dog with good good (repeated for effect) manners to just be a stray, or cast away.  If you buy a lab puppy, you know it will get big.

Ah Dhaka life.  It's strange and crazy.  Ruby, we miss you,  we hope you are happy, if you are very very far away with too many dogs to look at.  Yogee, you are sweet and we will love you, and look for your family, before you go very very far away.

Bloggin gone bad

So I am getting really bad at keeping up on the blog.  Do I have an excuse?  No, not really.  Haven't been inspired much really.  Lots going on, and nothing going on.  Working full-time, mother of three, living in Dhaka.  What else is there to say?  Not much is new.  I still spend my time giving out Ice pack, bandaids, and tums.  I check for lice, and for fever during my work days.  At home I feed my children and try to have energy enough to be a good Mama.  

We did celebrate our survival of LJ's first year.  We had a brunch and at least 50 people came.  It was fun.  LJ did not enjoy his cake.  He was quite off put by the frosting and looked to his Ayah to save him from the mess.  'Ah da' he said waving his hands back and forth to signal he really meant he was ALL DONE.  

The big ones have been busy with girl scouts, and swim team, boy scouts and soccer.  This weekend, we had 6 girls over for a sleepover to say good bye to a friend.  It wasn't too bad,  they were in bed by 1045, and up at 645.  The rest of the weekend was taken up by birthday parties, halloween carnivals, swimming at the club and play dates for kids and puppies. 

Next week, we get a holiday!  It's a Muslim holiday of Eid-ul-Azha.  Most people will leave the area and go on vacation, but for me, I'm looking forward to a vacation at home.  Ayah's to watch children, and me to sleep in.  Maybe do a craft or two.  There will be mass slaughtering of large farm animals in celebration, not sure I'm excited about the street running red with blood, but it's all part of the culture, right?  We might stay in, those days.

That's it for now.  This sleep deprived mama, will try to write more often.

Taken for a rickshaw RIDE!

I have never had help before.... and believe me it's awesome,  but I am beginning to think I'm being taken for a ride.  I love my ladies,  I think they do a good job, but something tells me they are a little too comfortable.

When I hired the Ayah, Suma (Shuspol's sister) in January, I increased Shuspols salary, so they matched.  I also decided to let them eat breakfast here, and I would supply the eggs, bread and condiments.  Seemed fine.  Suma's uniform allowance was more, so I made a mental note to increase Shuspol's when the time came to get her next uniform.  They get one a year, and they use the money to buy a salwar kameez.  Suma had told me, her last employer gave her 2000taka, so I did as well.  She came the next week with two new beautiful uniforms to show me.  I smiled,  glad that she go two.

This summer we were gone for 6 weeks or more.  J was gone for two weeks, and then back at home.  There really wasn't much work to be done.  They each took a week off while he was gone and then came together and cleaned for a couple of hours and left again.  Sometimes, Shuspol would leave J dinner.  When I got back, their work load increased back to normal.  I think, they got used to the easy summer, and haven't quite got back on their game.

First thing they did was ask for a raise.... really, a raise?  They just had the summer of hardly anything to do,  two of them and one person.  Are they crazy?  No, I'm crazy and gave them a extra 1000 a month,  because you know, "everything, 'bery' 'spensive in Dhaka, Madam"

The next week, Suma, bless her not very logical mind.... was laughing and giggling about how fat I got in America.  "Thanks, Suma" She was giggling about her skinny husband and how fat she is, because she eats "Madams food,  four piece bread, and peanut butter and jelly, and tea, with lots of sugar...very fat"  Did she realise she was talking to Madam, who supplies the bread, and other goodies that are making her so fat?  Maybe Madam should put her on a weight loss program.  In one month they have gone through, 2.5 lbs of peanut butter,  2 lbs of jelly, and 4 kilos of sugar (at least).  Tonight while making the kids lunch, I noticed four bread bags in the fridge with 2-4 end pieces in each bag.  I know they use to eat these, but I guess, it's not good enough now.

Payday last week, I gave them that raise, and Shuspol reminded me that her uniform allowance was due.  Ok,  here is 2000,  500 more than last time.  And generous, if you ask me, since her fat sister got two salwar kameez's from that amount and Shuspol is half her size.  "Oh no, Madam, not enough.  I have to have the tailor make them and Madam Lomax gave me 3000."  No f@#$ing way she did!  I rolled my eyes and gave her the money.  I am a big fat sucker!

No more,  I won't deal with money anymore.  J has taken over.  If they want something, they have to ask him.  Oh did I mention, I bought them both cell phones, because theirs were broken?  I got asked last week for another one, because Shuspols screen didn't work.  I told her, if she dropped it, the screen would break, and I wouldn't buy a new one.  "Oh no, Madam, no drop"  Though it's clearly damaged, the whole bottom has broken off.  Not dropped, my big fat bottom.  I also bought her eyeglasses which, Madam Lomax did as well, and she never wears them.  

Done complained about the fact I have someone, who washes my clothes, and toliets.  Who cleans my house and looks after my baby.

Such a fuss

Such a fuss has been made this week about breastfeeding.  Really?  Sigh!  It seems so silly to over think such things.  North America is plagued with obesity and crap chemical ridden, gmo foods that most people don't think twice about eating, yet they freak out about the most natural perfectly healthy food you can consume.  

I became a lactation consultant, after breastfeeding my daughter did not go smoothly and how it consumed me with guilt.  I was shy, and nervous, and didn't ask for help,  and no help was offered.  I was alone with my new husband, and we did not have a lot of support.  I was back to work, as a NICU nurse (who helps moms breastfeed their premies) at 6-7weeks.  I pumped and fed her breastmilk for 10 months.  She nursed a little bit, but not much.  Becoming a LC, was a goal so I could help moms who needed help and encourage them however they needed it.  Motherhood is special and feeling guilty is not helpful.  We do the best we can and make it work.

When my son, B was born, I just so wanted to nurse a baby.  He was a champ.  Nursed like crazy, and was a fat roly poly baby.  We nurse until he was a little over two.  I wasn't shy,  I nursed him on a ottoman in the Seattle Aquarium when he was three days old,  I nursed him anywhere.  I nursed him at his sisters soccer games, in between his running around after soccer balls.  I do not remember the last time we nursed.  It was a natural gradual weaning process.  It worked.

Our surprise third baby, who is 7 months old is nursing as well.  I am thankful that I have the knowledge and strength to get through his rough BFing beginning. If I had been the mom that I was with my first, he would have grown up on formula.  He lost wt., even though I could pump 8-10 oz at a time,  then on day 10, my milk dried up.  Someone turned the faucet OFF!.  I luckily had lots stored up (at 10 days) and I supplemented him that, while still breastfeeding.  I would BF, then supplement at the breast with tube and syringe, then pump.  I was a crazy week.  Did I mention my family was in Dhaka Bangladesh and I was doing this in a one bedroom Oakwood apt, alone.  Thank god for friends who helped me through it!  Carol, Tonya, Valerie and Kim, I will love you forever!  

The milk came back,  but then we had bowel trouble and he wasn't tolerating the breastmilk. Two pediatrician told me to stop breastfeeding and give formula.  Thank god I was not that same first time mom (again).  No, I did my research and found out that he was on lactose overload.  I was consuming too much sugar, and that converts to lactose and he was unable to deal with it.  Also, I didn't have enough fat in my diet. Of course,  my diet consisted of fruit loops and cookies. Did you know, most food labels say, low fat, no fat? I did not have time to make proper meal and eat them.  My friends who were so lovely, again saved me, by setting up a cooking schedule and brought me real meals.  Love you Ricki, for setting this up!  Once diet changed and I added FAT to my diet,  my lovely son, gained wt. and there was no more blood in his stool.

I am thankful, that I have grown as a woman and have the determination to feed my babies.  I haven't any idea when i'll be finished nursing little J but i'm sure it will be a decision we both make at the right time.  I could careless who I offend.  It really is funny what people make a fuss about.  

S.O.S.

So today, R and LJ and I made our way to the embassy.  B decided that school was much more fun than what we had planned so he went to school.  I am very thankful that he went to school.  We walked to the Embassy at 8 in the morning, to see the S.O.S. (Secretary of State) Hillary Clinton.  She has come to Dhaka for a short time to do some speaking and meeting with important people.  The Embassy had a meet and greet, and we were welcome to attend.  The kids were place on risers, positioned for a photo with Madam Secretary.  We milled around and at 9:15 the DCM (Deputy Chief of Mission)  spoke to the crowd.  It was exciting, and he told us how to behave.  Most important, stay behind the blue line.  So we stood, quietly behind the line and waited.  

Lucky for me,  I had a baby, so three other ladies, their babies and me with Little J, got to stand up front in this little area of blue tape.  It was right in front.  And we waited.  The babies, fussed,  we bounced, and sat, and feed babies milk or cheerios.  The big kids played Simon Says, and sang the wheels on the bus... and we waited.  A couple of times we got told to get ready and we all stood up and behind the blue line, we waited. Then we would be told, not yet. Ten o'clock came and went, which was the time she was going to arrive.  So fussy babies slept and bounced on mama's hip. AND then we got the notice,  two mins....  back to our places, behind the blue tape. It was 10:25, not bad.

One baby was an angel, one cried, one squealed and one fussed.  The fancy men in black suits with earphones in their ears never blinked their eyes.  They paced back and forth like a pack of wolves, very alert but eerily calm.  Mrs Clinton came to the podeum and made her speech, it was short, personal, and touch on many important points, I can't remember.  She came over for her picture with the youth on the risers.  R, sat right behind her. Then she made her way around the blue tape to shake hand,  but first stopped at the babies.  Jax  wooed her with his charms, and she played with his legs, while talking with him.  

She made her way around and was shuffled out the door, quickly by the men in black with radios in their ears.  We, of course, stayed behind the blue tape, until the all clear was given, as we had been instructed to do.  We were so well behaved.  Hillary, by the way, looked fabulous!  In person she looks so much better than photographs.