India (Part 2) Into the Himalayas

The continuation on India (part 1)

So, after Taj Mahal we made the journey back into Delhi to stay at our guest house for the night. We were staying at a Tibetan Refugee Camp/Complex. It was quite an interesting stay. Twice during the night we heard knocks at our door which didn't help me sleep very comfortably. Throughout the day at the Taj Mahal and on our drive back into Delhi I constantly found myself hiding my face and my hair behind my hooded jacket because anytime we would stop at any point on the road for an amount of time beggars would bang on our windows. We were instructed not to look at them but only hold up a hand and wave them off. Outside of the Taj Mahal a little boy, who wasn't more than 10, came up to me selling something. I am not sure what he was selling because I wasn't interested in his merchandise but rather, his story. This was a first for me....a child beggar following me for 20 paces or more begging and pleading that I buy from him. Whining and exclaiming and pleading for my money. How did he get here? Was he doing this willingly? Does he get to go to school? Does he do this everyday? The begging happened on so many different occasions....an old woman outside of our guest house in Delhi, the little boy, the teenage boy who beat on my window with a force that I thought it would shatter, the little girl wanting me to buy newspapers, this all happening in the first day and of course, it wouldn't be the last. So, when the knocks on the door of our room came late at night I was just sure someone was looking for us and any money we had. My fear is ridiculous...these people (for the most part) aren't criminals....they are the poor. I fear that maybe some where along the way I have merged the two....or at least I do when I am confronted by them which causes me to not see them. Sigh.....i have a long way to go and a lot to learn.

Early the next morning we hopped into another van and this time headed for a much longer trip into a village at the foothills of the Himalayas called Manali. It was about a 12-14 hour (can't remember exactly) car ride but thankfully this time we had AC! From Manali we would begin our motorcycle ascent into the Himalayas. Our route was initially meant to take us into Leh which is in Kashmir State but upon our arrival in Manali to discuss our travel plans with our guide we learned that there was civil unrest and protests in that state and it would no longer be safe for us to travel there. So, we had to plan another route. Which was actually really great as the altitudes on the new route were lower than those of the original route and I, because I was pregnant, was unable to take the altitude sickness medication. However, we would still be reaching altitudes of around 14-15,ooo feet. I had never been this high before in my life. I was worried about altitude sickness as it is NOT something to mess around with.


The next morning we began our 9 day journey. Now, I have to brag on my husband....he had NEVER driven a motorcycle before...well, actually he had but only two times and not on any long excursion but rather up and down a small street in tokyo on our friend mike's bike. Flat paved streets cannot compare to rocky, pot-holed "roads" of our Himalayan trek. and Jason worked it like a pro. Jugdish (not at all how you spell his name but that's how i remember to pronounce it) one of the 8 member crew told me by the end of the trip that Jason was a very good driver. I can attest to that too. Jason had to drive across some rocky passes through rushing water. If he had made one wrong move he would have been over the edge.....to say I was nervous during those moments is an understatement. Terrible scenarios were playing in my head at such crossings. The common one...."my child is going to grow up fatherless!" But, praise God for His faithfulness for He protected us in SO many ways on our excursion.

Now, I won't break down every day of the journey, that would take to long and become a little monotonous because the days (for the most part) went something like this.....get up, eat breakfast, climb on the bikes, bike until lunch, after lunch we would bike until we made it to our camp grounds which was usually around dinner time. The things we saw and the people we met are something I will never forget. Nor will I ever forget how sick I was. I was more sick than I had been in all of my life and this is no exaggeration but I will get to that part later. I have some very....um, unique stories to go along with that.

So we left Manali and wound our way up into the foothills of the Himalayas. They were astoundingly beautiful. Also along the way I got my first glimpse of a Yak! He/She didn't do much. ;)
Here are some pics of our first few days of travels.....

Here's where we began....Manali


This is a view from our guest house of Manali.


The Helmets....protecting our heads for only $3 USD!


One of Jason's shots of our bikes....


Starting off...


As we rode up a heavy fog began to descend over the mountains and brought with it some cold rain.


Our camp grounds on night 1....and there are our wet clothes drying after we got soaked from the first day's ride.


The next morning....can you believe what we got to wake up to? We arrived at dusk and under fog so the clear skies were a wonderful treat the next morning. The blue in the skies was some of the most clear blue skies I have ever seen.


View from our campsite the first morning.





Three of the eight crew members that followed us and set up camp for us. In this picture (L to R) is our cook, our mechanic, and the driver that followed us with our clothes and water. These were some fun guys and super helpful.


Day 2...I'm not smiling. Not for any particular reason....I guess I just missed the cue.





Stopping for some tea. India has the best tea. Chai...but it's not your Starbucks chai or anything else found in the grocery store....it's just delicious beyond words.


THE YAK! with a saddle...which cracks me up! and I can't help but sing to myself..."yakkity yak...don't talk back"


Jason...this is actually a day 1 pic but doesn't he look good on this thing!? :)


Encountering a heard of sheep and goats. There were lots up there.


And here is our campsite for night number 2 where I got SICK as a dog. I climbed in and out of that tent approximately 8 times during the night to go throw up and well....you know. And yes, it was all happening at the same time!!! I woke up dehydrated and feverish. So, morning 3 began with a mad dash to a small village hospital about a 3 hour drive away.....I'll pick up there next time.

Deacon Scott....

is a month and a half old already! Man, time has flown by!

I haven't posted on here in a good while partly because I would rather sleep than sit in our uncomfortable computer chair....I have made several secret wishes that we had wireless. :)

Deacon Scott Kuiper has arrived! He made his appearance on April 15th at 2:53 pm after a VERY LONG labor. I was having strong contractions for a total of 38 hours!! But really really strong ones for a total of 24 hours....man, it was intense. I went to the hospital at 8pm on Tuesday night after 5 hours of contractions coming every 5 minutes apart and then upon arrival to the hospital discovered I was only 1cm dilated!! Talk about discouraging. So, I checked into my hospital room and continued to labor ALL night long! At 5:30am they checked me again and I was dilated to only 4cm. The doctor said I should be moving right along then at 1cm per hour....yeah right! At 10:30am I was only dilated to 6cm. At 11am the doctor came in and said that labor was progressing too slow and that I had three options....1. continue laboring as I had been 2. break my water to see the color of the amniotic fluid to see if the baby was in distress or 3. use pitocin to speed up labor I knew immediately that I wanted option number 2....not sure why but there was no debate. I knew my water needed to be broken. After they broke my water things started moving very quickly and Deacon came 4 hours later.

Labor is intense but SOOO worth it. It was wonderful to get to hold my son in my arms....no feeling can describe it. Every pain that a body experiences is to tell you that something is wrong with your body, that you have a problem that needs to be checked out. However, labor pain is something different entirely. It's the one pain that a woman experiences that is bringing forth life and is not about something being wrong with the body. There is something profound about that fact that I can't quite put my finger on. Any insights?

Motherhood has been such an adjustment. The first two weeks...no, make that three weeks were so hard. So many things are thrown your way all at once. You are exhausted, your nipples are cracked and sore (sorry fellas) from trying to breastfeed, your emotions are all over the place and you can't control them which makes you even more emotional, you've got pain from squeezing something the size of a watermelon out of something the size of a lemon or you've had surgery that has made sneezing more painful than you could imagine, and the list could go on.....BUT it is SOOOo worth it! I couldn't have made it through this first month of his life without the help from my mother (she came for a month total and was here the first two weeks of Deacon's life) and my wonderful fabulous husband. Jason is so amazing. I am so blessed to have such an amazing husband as him (he?). He is such a great father, too. He loves his son so much and that is very clear! Thank you, honey!

Here's a picture of our precious son at one month old....


After a bath....




India part 2 coming soon.....already got parts of it written and saved in a draft. :)

Just a Quick Favor

My friend, Susan Parry, is a fabulous woman, mother, and friend. She is also a runner. I admire her perseverance in the run as I have always hoped to be able to love running this way. I love running but going beyond 5 miles is next to impossible (maybe I just need to train more :) ) but, anyway, back to the topic at hand....my friend has entered in a contest for a chance to make it to the marathon of her choice. Please follow this link and click on "Vote for this entry" or scroll down and write a review to help her earn points. Here's a quick little bio about her......

Let's send Susan to the Honolulu Marathon!

Susan is a dedicated wife, mother, and friend. She and Mark have 3 amazing children, 2 of which they have brought home through adoption from Korea! As a family they have impacted the lives of many through teaching overseas, working for fair wages for coffee bean growers, and ministering to inner city kids through Kids Across America.

Read Susan's story "A Refuge" and vote every day to send her to Honolulu!

You can also post on your facebook, twitter, or blog to give her even more points!

Click on the following link to vote! Thank you!!!

http://tinyurl.com/dfknsg

Tales of India.....7 months later (part 1)

With the arrival of our son approaching (only two more weeks until the due date) I have been recounting my pregnancy and all of the blessings that have come with it. The Lord has been so faithful through out it all but I want to share with you how we experienced His faithfulness and goodness while on a trip to India when I was six weeks preggo.

In August of 2008, Jason and I had the wonderful opportunity to travel to India with our friends, the Barton's, and take an adventurous journey through the foothills of the Himalayas via motorcycles. We were out and about camping for 9 days. Through the course of the 9 days I only took a shower once! Man, I never knew I could stink so bad! For some who are much more experienced at adventure than myself this may seem rather short and minuet but it was quite a feat for me. Also, while in India I got INCREDIBLY sick! I honestly have never been this sick in all of my life but God did some amazing things through this journey which I hope to be able to recount clearly over the course of the next few blog entries. You may wonder why I have waited 7 months to even start telling you about this and that answer is simple....I couldn't tell any stories without gagging or becoming slightly queasy at the thought of India. I am not sure if that was largely in part to being pregnant or what exactly but thankfully, I think I am mostly over it. Well, with the exception of an aversion to curry but I don't think that's going to go away for quite some time.

So, here's how it all took place....
Jason and I took off from Tokyo and landed in Hong Kong where we had hoped to spend a couple of days exploring this city before catching a flight to New Delhi. I don't have much to say about Hong Kong except that it has a cool cityscape. I am sure overall it's a great city but we didn't have much of an opportunity to explore it because upon our arrival we both felt a little sick which kept us indoors for one of the days we could have been out site seeing. But, we did get to take a ride on the Peak Tram where we got a great view of the city from above. Here is a picture of Hong Kong at night.


After our couple of days here we met up with our friends, Bernie and Cheryl Barton, in the airport to fly to New Delhi. We arrived in New Delhi around 2:30 in the morning and immediately began to feel cultural differences. India was a whole new cultural experience for me. The smells, the sites, the people, the food....everything. The gaping chasm that exists between the destitute and the wealthy is an aspect of this culture I have yet to fully grasp. Not really sure if I ever will. People were waiting outside the airport to beg for money, food, anything. Scattered along side the road ways were homeless people sleeping on thin mats with cracked, bare feet poking out from underneath the blankets that were too short to cover their bodies. They slept close to the buzzing and constant passing of cars to be near the exhaust as it kept the mosquitoes away. I tried to process what I was seeing but everything was coming all at once....it was overwhelming. This was my first encounter with such frequency of poverty. I began to scold myself for not seeing things like this sooner.....for not being closer to the broken.....I didn't quite know what to do with my lack of experience with these sites and to be honest I still don't but I hope I am never so used to them that I become numb to the idea that people shouldn't live this way. Hearts.....souls should be tended to, taken care of, loved. I wondered if these people had known such things but the wondering and the unknowing of how to process all that I was seeing in a matter of 30 minutes left me....well, numb. It was too much. So, I narrowed my view and never REALLY looked around me. I didn't know how. I was stunned. I would like to say that after seeing all of this as we drove through Delhi inspired me to do something different, noble, or philanthropic but that just isn't true....and I want to know why that is and I am not done trying to figure that out. Anyway....

When we landed in Delhi we were met up by some of the Barton's friends who live in India. It was decided prior to our arrival that when we flew in we would have a rental van waiting to pick us up and drive us all to the Taj Mahal in Agra. It was said to be a three or four hour trip but ended up taking closer to 6. We rode through the night so we could make it to the Taj Mahal in the early morning to beat the heat. However, there really is no beating the heat in India. It was hot no matter what time of the day. After a long car ride we arrived at the Taj Mahal. Ever since I saw this landmark inside one of my history books in Jr. High, I knew this was one place I wanted to see. It was cool getting to fulfill a dream and hope I had had since I was about 12. However, while the Taj Mahal is beautiful and exquisite, it just doesn't compare to the beauty and majesty of the Himalayas. But, I still really enjoyed being there and I am grateful to have seen it.

Disclaimer: (please excuse my very poor punctuation....I have never been good at figuring out where commas go.)

Ookii desu ne?!?!

I am at my limit. For the past few months my belly has grown as the wonderful, beautiful boy inside me is growing and this growth has not gone unnoticed. Now, I wish I could say that people have given words of enthusiasm and kindness to accompany my belly as it increases in size, but that has just not been the case. For the past two months I have heard AT LEAST 4-5 times a day how large/big/huge my belly is. I am tired of it. So, I am shamelessly using my blog to write about this frustration. I sometimes try to avoid using my blog as a place for venting and save that for my personal journal, but not today. I have had enough of it. I can only take so much. I smile on the outside and say, "yeah, it is." but inside I want to say, "SHUT UP!" Should I just chalk this lack of noble thought to pregnancy hormone? Maybe, but then again, maybe I need to learn to ask people, in some wonderfully witty manner that teaches people a lesson in holding their tongue whilst also remaining respectful, to not say such things. Anyone got any ideas?

The camel's back broke today. I came home and cried on my husband's shoulder. Just wishing for the comments to stop and instead to be replaced by joyful phrases that communicate excitement. There have been a small number of people who have loved on me through encouraging words while here in Japan but sadly it's not enough to counteract the much larger number of the frequency of certain adjectives that should never be said to a pregnant woman. Word to the wise....only tell a pregnant woman how beautiful she is. Say nothing about her belly, small or large. Tell her you are excited for her. Share in her joy and quit acting like we have or should have the "right" to hear your opinion.

88

This is the number that is running through my mind on a loop. 8-8. For 8 months along and only 8 weeks to go until our little treasure (as the very cute, petite elderly nun working at the hospital said) arrives and changes everything about daily life as I know it. I am excited for this change and a little apprehensive but I guess that's to be expected.

This whole process has been amazing to me. There is a person growing inside of me! How wondefully weird is that!? As he has grown, the space available for him to move around in has become smaller and smaller, and now I can kinda tell what part of him is sticking out and making my belly all sorts of funny shapes. We can't wait to meet him. I often wonder what he looks like. Will he have Jason's eyes? My hair color? What will we name him? That has yet to be discovered.

So, as the day draws near and my belly grows please pray for the continued health of our baby and myself. Also, I would appreciate your prayers for a safe delivery. Can't wait to share pictures with you!

Under Pressure

Japan is a beautiful country. Home of the cherry blossoms and Mt. Fuji and some beautiful traditions. Japan is full of beautiful things and people. However, there is one custom that arrives every year around this time that I really dislike for these people. School entrance exams.

The pressure for these entrance exams is HIGH. Who takes these exams? Young children who want to get into elementary school. Eleven to twelve year olds who want to get into junior high school. 14-16 year olds who want to get into high school. 17-19 year old who want to get into college and on and on. At almost every mile stone of education these children are placed under serious pressure to pass and do well on these exams. Families prepare and study months in advance. They go to the school they want their son or daughter to get into and register for the exam. Here at Tamasei one prospective student arrived to register on the schools doorsteps around 4:30 in the morning.

Here is an excerpt from my friend, Cheryl's blog about this same subject.....

Monday and Tuesday, February 2 and 3, Tamagawa Seigakuin will conduct entrance examinations for approximately 750 current sixth grade girls who will begin their junior high school careers in April. (80 percent of those registered for Monday are also registered for the second day.) About 50 percent of them will pass the exam. Of these, Tama Sei expects to welcome 168 new first year junior high girls. (Many students take exams at several schools and, if they succeed in more than one, will enter their first choice.)

This weekend will be a time of great pressure in many homes as Monday and Tuesday approach. Actually, the stress has been building for some time. Some of these girls have been studying intensely for months in preparation (we hope)—if not by their own choice, then by the will of their parents. One father of a sixth grader who will take Monday’s exam told me late last fall that he and his wife had lowered the boom: no more special events and outings on weekends from then until exam time. “Weekends have become your study time,” they announced to their daughter who apparently hadn’t been taking her studying very seriously. They also were threatening to take her cell phone away, if necessary, in order to keep her on track. This would be, according to the daughter, the worst possible thing they could do--a fate nearly worse than death.

For the graduating seniors here at Tamasei the school releases the seniors for January through March to study for the entrance exams that they will be taking to get into university. I remember when I had heard my friend in the U.S. say that he had been studying for the BAR exam for two months and I thought that was intense! However, studying two months for a test is a normal thing to do every 3-5 years here. Phew! These students are unlike what I would picture I would be like if I was given two months to study for an exam. I would take a month or two off and then study for the last week. But not in Japan. Not these students. Especially not the women. Women make up only 38% of the student body population of universities in Japan. (according to www.educationpolicy.org) The pressure is high. It's part of this culture, I guess. Everyone has to go through it. However, that doesn't make it easy or less stressful.

Pressure to perform and do well in Japan is part of everyday life. Around 90 suicides are committed a DAY in this country. People are constantly depressed but rarely discuss their problems as there aren't enough mental health and counseling services available to meet the need. Plus, it's not yet as socially acceptable as in the U.S. to just discuss emotional issues with a counselor. The stigma seems to be that you only go to a counselor if you have serious mental issues. Teachers, businessmen, and other workers work non-stop. Students study constantly as standardized testing is plentiful.

I hate pressure. I rebel against it. For some Japanese people it may be no big deal but I see many times that it is. People here are tired, stressed, and overwhelmed with expectations. Of course, like anything, there are exceptions to this. My heart hurts for the Japanese. They are beautiful people and I wish for them to know the peace of the Lord when the world around them allows them to feel anything but. I pray for those who know Jesus that during this time they would experience His love and grace in abundance. That they would know He loves them even if they fail an entrance exam or make a mistake at work. May His grace cover their hearts and quiet their souls and minds.