The Rain Goddess Awaits the Monsoon

Perhaps I didn't mention that I am a rain goddess. My immediate family and friends are aware of this, it has always been so, so it seems. It always rains on my birthday, on days that I embark or return from significant journeys. On days that are of emotional significance. It's quite predictable. I do love the rain, the only problem is that now sometimes I suffer migraines with it - not always.

We don't have a lot of choice about the time of year we will be traveling to Nepal - I finish classes in early April, and start again in September. The monsoon season is a result of the largest climatic cycle on earth, beginning in mid-June, and running until August, so about half our trip will be flooded with rains like no other on the planet. Initially this had me worried, monsoons bring mosquitoes, leeches, mud and washed out roads, and cloudy skies to ruin the views of our surroundings. But then I was guided to a wonderful book, "Chasing the Monsoon," by Alexander Frater. I am just at the beginning of his odyssey, as in 1987 he set forth to follow the course of the Monsoon from the tip of southern India where the first raindrops fall, to the wettest spot on earth. His personal story is unique: finding himself ill and rundown, one day he is suddenly inspired to throw caution to the wind and pursue this mad goal of following the monsoon, one I very much identify with. In many ways, this is what we are doing, trying to leave our troubles behind, and go on a quest for some new dream, a pursuit that may seem crazy to some, although I have to say, many people have been supporting of our planned adventure, especially of the fact that we are taking our young daughter along. I keep A book about Nepal in the bathroom now, and when she's doing her number twos, she likes me to show her the pictures in it.

Rain is different in different places. Michael is from Northern Ireland, where we think it rains a lot - and it does, but it doesn't rain a lot for prolonged periods of time, and it doesn't often truly pour. It might rain many days in a row, but only briefly, followed by rainbows and leprechauns. He was surprised to experience Nova Scotian rains, true cats-and-dogs pouring rains, rainy streaks that last a week. I always regretted missing rainy season in Africa - it only rained once when I was there - and it poured, it was tremendous. One of the best outpourings from the sky I recall was in Phuket, Thailand. We were so drenched in the market place I had to buy new things when it ended, my shoe broke in the mud.

I love all the thrills the earth can give us - with the possible exception of snow - I'm not a winter person, but even I will admit awe at the storm termed "White Juan" here in 2004, where the blizzard dumped over 3 feet of snow. I've been in hurricanes, and most thrilling of all, one of the most exciting moments of my life thus far, an earthquake in Guatemala. Small by the local standards (5.0), a mere tremor, but enough to wake me with the sound of roaring thunder, shaking the bed and the room - oh it was awesome. For days afterwards I dreamt I was in another one, I would wake up unsure if there had been an aftershock. Michael slept through the whole thing!

More plans

I've just had a very reassuring conversation with the Canadian Coordinator for Info-Nepal, answering many of my questions, and fueling my excitement about this trip. The crunch of end-of-term academic stress is causing me day after day of migraines, and our departure date in April seems so far away (while the biostatistics quiz I might fail this Thursday is looming large). At least I had a moment to focus on another neglected part of my life last night as I chose three pieces to submit to the university Staff and Student Art Show - not like a show at the Met or anything, but my photography is something I do so little of these days, it was a nice distraction. I even got around to making a home-cooked meal yesterday - a new vegetarian chili recipe that I deemed good enough to put in the cookbook I'm writing - the first time I've worked on that since the summer (although it doesn't take that long to type up one recipe, that was still time I should have spent writing an essay, preparing a presentation, or trying to somehow comprehend statistics).

I've now been told that Nepalis will love to see us traveling with a little girl, and that Naomi will be warmly welcomed in school. I hadn't thought about it, but of course they wear school uniforms there - how adorable will she be, 4 years old in a Nepali school uniform with new friends? What an amazing experience - this will actually be her first school - although she goes to preschool 2 half-days a week now, she doesn't start kindergarden until after we get back.

I also will be doing health research while we're there, which I can get credit for towards my degree. I haven't quite worked out the details, but I was thinking of maybe looking at what brings villagers to a health clinic, what care they are able to receive there, and what happens if they require more specialized care - do they get it? I read that more Nepalis rely on traditional Indian Ayurvedic medicine or even local 'witchdoctors' than Western-style medical care, which isn't uncommon in a developing country. I went to a brujo, or witchdoctor in rural Mexico, and it was awesome. We didn't speak the same language, I told him nothing about my history, and yet right away he pointed at my neck, where I suffered a severe injury many years ago that still gives me trouble, and many headaches. He chanted as he patted me all over with a bunch of damp, fragrant leaves, then enveloped me in the smoke of something or other, giving me a clay head idol on a string for future health. That was about 10 years ago - the head-on-string- hangs off my bed, although I'm not sure it has helped much, but I swear after I was 'treated' I felt great for several days - longer than I feel good for after a chiropractic visit!

TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES!!!

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Thank you.

Thank God it's Thursday!

What a long week. The end of university term is taking its toll on me. One presentation down (and I didn't do such a great job, I'm really beating myself up about that one), one to go, 2 papers, an epidemiology exam, and worst of all: a biostatistics quiz and stats assignment. Statistics will be the death of me, I swear. I have learned more math since last April, and I'm still lost. I am doing this as both a personal challenge (I hate it when a part of my brain is underdeveloped, and thus feel the need to prove myself), but also as the means to get to the end= the goal of finally getting the career I want. I am currently studying community health and epidemiology, which I hope will lead me to the places I haven't manged to get to so far in life. Not just the physical places, but the satisfaction of life goal places. The process is often painful, I've shed some tears along the way already. Even though my daughter is nearly 4, the pregnancy hormones never seemed to quite wash out of my system, because I get emotional so easily now, and I never did before. I get frustrated, I feel my age as a 'mature student' (I was in university before some of the 'kids' in my classes were out of diapers). They make me feel old. But at least I don't need to use any of my scholarship funds on Clearasil.

And I'm feeling frustrated about Nepal - am having a hard time getting in touch with anyone there as I am trying to make some contacts before we go. If anyone out there knows any one connected to Pokhara University or any hospitals in that region, let me know!

Mermaids

My daughter Naomi wants to be a mermaid when she grows up. She has changed her mind, she used to want to be a fireman (not a firefighter, a fireman). She has now convinced all the girls at pre-school but one that they too want to be mermaids when they grow up. The one boy in the class agrees he wants to be a boy mermaid too.

Just look at that face.

This Week

Haven't had a lot of time to dream about Nepal this week, there are just 2 weeks left in the academic term to go. This means I have 1 group presentation and one individual presentation to give, 1 ten-page paper and 1 20-page paper to write, 1 biostatistics assignment and one stats quiz to live through (I admit it, I struggle with statistics), and one epidemiology exam to survive. If I get through all this, and somehow I will, I will have actually survived my first semester in a graduate level science program, which, if you knew me better, you would realize is hilarious. Although I am nearly the only one of my friends who did not attend art college (yet I have the degree in international development, I make my living as a photographer, and my best friend Julia who was Student President at art college wound up as a diplomat in Ottawa...), I am not especially science-y. Truthfully, I'm somewhere between artsy-fartsy and lab-geek, but closer to artsy on the continuum. Up until now I have been a "social scientist," as evidenced by my degrees in international development studies and sociology. I started university young and without a real plan, I would most likely do it differently if I could start over. For awhile I wanted to go to law school, but my older, cooler, magic mushroom-taking new-age hippy friends told me it would make me evil and talked me out of it. (It's their fault I became a vegetarian too - I was the victim of peer pressure at age 16 - they've all returned to carnivorous diets, I have remained true, but I would probably give it up if I could - my body wouldn't accept meat anymore, it's just been too long. But every now and then one of Michael's donairs smells really good.)

Two more weeks.

Making the Plans

We are going to volunteer in one of the world's poorest countries, where we have been accepted to work with INFO-Nepal (www.infonepal.org), which runs a variety of projects around the country. We plan to be near Pokhara, Nepal's second largest city, set on lake Phewa Tal reflecting the snow-covered Annapurna mountain range, described by more than one source as what Eden must have looked like, Heaven on earth.

I am so excited to see Naomi go to school with the local children as we teach or help at the local medical clinic. The daily grind of our daily commutes, never seeing each other (I go to university mornings, Michael works nights) and the general stress of First World living is wearing us thin and putting a strain on us all. We need this trip, to give back a little something to the planet, but more to find our way back to ourselves as a family again.

Unfortunately, even to volunteer, it costs a lot of money. It works out something like this:

Airfare for 3: $5,000
rooom and board in Nepal for 3 months: $3,500
immunizations $1,200 (estimate, may be worse, rabies shots for Naomi alone cost over $500!)

**UPDATE** I seriously underestimated this factor. Called my local pharmacy today with the list of suggested vaccinations: Hepatitis A and B for Naomi, TB for Naomi, flu shots, polio, typhoid, meningitis, rabies and Japanese Encephalitis for all of us. I thought the price of rabies was bad until I heard the cost of the Japanese Encephalitis shots: $1,200 for each of us! Hep A and B are going cheap at a mere $100 for three shots.

(And to make it sound like a Mastercard ad, "Trip of a Lifetime = Priceless!)

As you can see, this is no small undertaking, but we are committed to going, even if we have to remortgage our house! We have ordered our Nepali language tapes already and are anxiously awaiting their arrival (yes, all I need is something else to study while being in a full-time master's program, not to mention another language when I have studied 7 others already, and we all know the wide applicability of speaking Nepali outside of Nepal...), and I'm planning on preparing myself for celebrating my next birthday in the midst of monsoon season, which comes with leeches and mosquitoes.

Michael's Story

As I mentioned, Michael really isn't the tree-hugging type. Although he was a committed volunteer member of our local Fire Department for many years, he never understood why I cared so much about the plight of others so far away when there's so much to be done here at home. But one day in September he found himself watching a show on the National Geographic Channel about East Africa, with footage of the Savannah, and the landscape grabbed hold, and he started to feel something new. And he told me he wanted to see it for himself. I said, let's go. Let's just go. So at first it was Africa we planned to see, even though I've been there before. I was just happy he'd latched onto a goal, and one we could share, because things had been getting difficult around here. Michael's work schedule has him commuting 2 hours a day and working 9-10 hour shifts. He's been so overworked that he's continually exhausted, getting frequent headaches and stomach upsets, not to mention insomnia. He is one stressed out dude.

But as I started combing the internet for volunteer agencies we could work with, I found one that also ran programmes in Nepal, and somehow, the African Dream became the Nepali Dream. as it began to appeal to us more and more. Michael has always said he loves mountains, me, I'm an ocean lover, I hate to be far from the sea. But Nepal just seems so vastly far and different, the extreme opposite of where we are. We are at sea level, there we would be within reach of the top of the world, almost. I would like to spend some time in a brand new geography.

We currently have a lot of stress in our lives. A lot of the time Michael and I see each other for maybe 15 minutes a day - I leave for University before 8 am, before he and Naomi get up, and he drops her at her grandma's on his way to work, and I pick her up after class. Unless we wave to one another as we pass each other on the highway in opposite lanes, I don't see him until he gets home around 11 pm. It often seems now that we are the happiest and most animated while planning our trip. Without a bright spot in the future to look forward to, the daily grind is just wearing us down, especially him.

Sunday Morning

Playing games with Michael and Naomi. He swears she always beats him at Candyland, while I always seem to have to cheat to let her win. She isn't a sore loser, but I think Michael was starting to take it hard losing the third game in a row, but he made up for it by winning Old Maid.

Post-Hurricane Noel

The basement waters have receded after the flood slightly, enough for the plumber to fix the hot water tank ($349), so I'll get back to our story.

Nearly 4 years ago after our daughter was born, things were pretty rough for a while, well, a long while. For years up until then my husband and I had worked from home together, running a small import/export business that allowed us to travel every few years, and a gift shop featuring works by us and other Maritime craftspeople. But since September 11, 2001, we could could no longer rely on the tourism trade, plus we had a new tiny mouth to feed (and cute little bottom to keep in diapers -thankfully those days are over!). For months Michael didn't sleep for all his worrying, and not long after Naomi was born, I got sick. First it was occasional migraines, but then they lasted longer and longer and longer until they just never stopped. I was diagnosed with status migrainous, chronic daily headache, and post-partum depression. In the ensuing years I went through 4 family physicians and saw 3 neurologists, and went through trial and error of dozens of prescription drug combinations. At one point I took 9 different meds just to get through the day, and my headaches still weren't under control. The 2 things that got me through were the love of my husband, which never wavered, and my love for our daughter, who proved to be a bright shining miracle every day.

When Naomi was 10 months old Michael started working nightshift in the city, a big change for us. Having only one car, this meant I was now housebound and alone. As winter wore on I felt so trapped and miserable - there aren't any buses where we live, so I couldn't even go to the grocery store for a change of scenery. I found myself in my 30s with 2 university degrees that had done me no good but to incur thousands of dollars of student loans, far off any path I would have predicted for myself.

It took at least 2 years before my headaches were controlled enough that I could function again. Controlled means maybe 4-6 migraines a month, while continuing to take fistfuls of pills every day. Now my quality of life is almost back normal, but I am still not content with where I am in life. I thought I'd be working for UNICEF or Doctors Without Borders or some other development organization by now, far away from Canadian winters, doing just a little bit of good in the world. That's all I ever really wanted to do, disaster relief or AIDS work, or just be an extra pair of helping hands somewhere they are needed.

Michael never really understood this about me, and was not at all a do-gooder tree-hugging granola type in the least. But being a dad has softened him, but there's still more to his part of the story.

Hurricane Noel

Living on Nova Scotia's South Shore just outside of Halifax, we got pounded by the remains of Hurricane Noel Saturday night. Naomi was quite thrilled to try out all the flashlights, especially her roaring dinosaur one. The three of us snuggled down for the night together in the big bed, as the power inevitably cut out. Michael and I tossed and turned like the waves crashing across the road from us while Naomi slept like an oblivious angel. Even one of our three cats (usually banned from the bedroom) made it into the bed, adding to the warmth.

After the storm passed Michael mentioned that our sump-pump had blown up some time ago, leaving our basement hopelessly flooded and the furnace making an odd, whining noise.

Basement bailed out with borrowed pump, we set off for the beach to survey the damage.

For as long as I can remember...

I knew I belonged somewhere else. Maybe it was the first time I saw an issue of "National Geographic," learned about some tribe somewhere, realized there were other places to be, other ways to live. I just never felt quite right here, and I was always treated as if I were just a little bit odd (or strange, or weird. I prefer the term eccentric). As I grew older and understood more, the more I resented capitalism, First World Superiority, the culture of this McWorld. But then maybe that's just because I grew up lower-middle class. I instinctively felt that somewhere out there was a culture that had something better than materialism at its core, but then I grew up in a single parent family where my mom was all the family I had. Rarely satisfied with what was before me, I always dreamed of being somewhere else...And they say you can't run away from your problems...I have found over the years that the reverse is true. Once I was 15 I started moving, from Halifax to Germany, Portugal, Montreal, Toronto, and then at age 18, to Israel. That's a long story. Just the other day I was speaking to another former Israeli resident who said, "Israel is like the ex-husband you will always love but just can't live with."