Inside out.

So, it's been a while, and lots of people have been asking me about the blog.

This being our fourth move, there's definitely a chain of events which detail your emotional adaption to the situation.  All the inspirations/aspirations, and dreams and euphoric highs of actually moving to India went out the window, and I got fed up.  Fed up that I didn't have my desktop; that I couldn't write more than half a page on my iPad, and especially fed up with just being stuck out in the 'Burbs on my own night after night.  Then I went home for a holiday.  Now I'm back, and not so fed up.

India is cheap. FACT.  People talk about the US as a place where anything is achievable.  You guys should come to India.  You can do anything here.  Did I mention it was cheap?  When I first arrived, my mind went into overdrive - I wanted to take up driving lessons, learn how to become a Pilates instructor, do yoga, get a personal trainer, get a yogi, join a book club, learn how to play the Indian drums, take tennis lessons, have a massage once a week, volunteer at the women's club, stop smoking, stop drinking, lose weight, become a cook extraordinaire and so on and so on. It was all too much for me.  I went the opposite way, and for the first couple of months, I did NOTHING, nada.  I sat on my bum in front of VERY bad TV, and drank wine.  Then I went home for a break.

On coming back at the end of the summer, I have realised that I was putting too much pressure on myself.  It's easy after all this time moving from city to city, country to country, to think,

'PAH!  This is a cinch!  I'm a professional.  I can do this.  I've moved so many times, the change wont affect me, I don't need to try to make friends.  Who needs friends?  It's not going to be tough for me.  Look at me, I've lived in FIVE countries including this one.  I know it ALL!  I AM the BIG I AM.'

Except, I'm not.  I'm me.  My problems, insecurities and everything else that I carry with me don't just disappear because I've moved.  Nor does the fact that I think that I'm good at changing countries make me really actually any good at it.  [Reference: Relocation Agent number 3]

I've realised that instead of overloading myself with ways to improve my outward appearance, and to fill my time that I actually need to step back.  I need to STOP.  I need to use this time to look at what's going on on the inside, because to be honest, I've never really done that.  I've just buried it and used wine other things  to keep it deep inside.  Well people, I'm on a path.  The buck is stopping here.   I'm working on the inside first.  Let's just see what's going to happen to the outside.

This doesn't mean that this blog is going to be anything to do with any sort of spiritual awakening, 'cos it's not.  It's all to do with my life in India and where that takes me.  I just might slip some stuff in about breathing every now and then.  Oh, and there's lots of travel and interesting events planned over the next few months too, so watch this space.

Next blog - happy, happy reconvenes.

PS I'm still going to the book group, and I still intend on learning how to drive.

Toxic poisoning, the first people, and door bell ringing spiders.

Hi,

So today wasn't anything special. For my sins, I managed to poison myself with a heavy duty mosquito killer last night. I was feeling decidedly wobbly this morning. The problem is our outdoor porch in the garden. It's like the Mosquito Coast out there. Every night, we are fumigated, which means that these little malarial delights are finding shelter in the eaves of our patio. We haven't protected against malaria, and I'm particularly concerned about the wee ones (my children, that is). Cue half a can of said mosquito killer to try and prevent them from hanging out there each and every night. Cough. Despite my wobbles, it has actually worked! A lot less mossies! Well, maybe that is just because of the mosquito coil that I have decided to burn as well...

Anyway, I've got a housekeeper figured out and have hired the delightful Marie: a Catholic Indian who jingle jangles her way around the house. Literally with rings on her fingers, and bells on her toes (ankles) she does make music wherever she goes. For the record, on sniffing new blood, she came to my door four days on the trot looking for a job. I didn't really stand a chance. Anyway, she's been invited in, with the money she wanted, and the hours she wanted. She's got my current gardener sacked and made way for her pal to join next Monday. She's got rid of ALL the fancy schmancy cleaning utensils I have bought to make way for her Indian ones - Vileda pah! Every day she wears a deliciously coloured sari, and eats her lunch with her fingers at the bottom of my staircase. I love it! After 15 years of expatriate services (all referenced, can I add), she's come in and sorted me right out - thank you Marie.


Too bad Marie had gone when I found the biggest spider by the front door. I wasn't sure how to handle it - for all I knew it could have been poisonous! In the end, in the interest of hygiene I thought the best way forward was to sweep it out the front door. Now, of course, I am paranoid about the mossies, so I rushed the door open and started to sweep but it crawled up the brush. I managed to kick it off into the garden and slam the front door, all the while screaming. Literally ten seconds later, the door bell rang. Both me and the kids thought it might just have been the monster spider ringing to get back in! A few more grey hairs. Tick. I would like to just say to my dear husband that I forgive him for bringing me here.


Here is our new house:

So here I am - from a big huge crane, to a banana tree!

So, this is my umpteenth attempt at blogging, however, at this point in my life, I feel it more essential that I do something like this than any time before. For those of you whom know me, my family and I have been living one amazing adventure for the last 14.5 years. Having lived in London, Singapore, Moscow, Kazakhstan, and now here in India, I really feel that I should start marking my time in some way. It's not just that really; my husband, in this new posting, works really crappy hours - 2pm until 11.00pm Monday to FRIDAY! This means that I am home alone from around 7.30 when I put my kids to bed. I want to put this time to good use, and this is one way in which I plan to do it.Each of the different cities we have lived in has marked decidedly different aspects of my life and personal development. I've been thinking a lot about this. It's taken me a long time to develop, and i still don't think I am there yet. I'm hoping that living here in India will help me to move to my next stage.I'm at a point now where I feel the need to grow. I have for my whole adult life following my boyfriend who then became my husband around the world. I'm now 37. I've not worked for 8 years. A stay at home wife (briefly), and then for the last 6.5 years, a stay at home mother. Now, I can't really complain, because I've travelled the world. I've lived and experienced different cultures. I've seen all types of places - beautiful, and peaceful to dirty and threatening - and for almost half of that, so have our two children. Through out this, I've had to learn to adapt, to get used to the culture, the language, the ways of the people, and their weather. But that I think is a problem. I've followed, I've adapted, I've done all I can to make my surroundings a success, but where is me? Where is my sense of self in all of this? I'm a wife, a mother, an adapter, but who am I when I am not fulfilling these other roles? That's what I intend to find out during my three or so years here in India.For the moment, life is interesting in itself as I settle my family into our new home. My youngest, who is 3.5 has yet to start pre school, so don't expect too much from me until this happens, please.In the meantime, an explanation - why Cranes to Palms? Well, we have a flat in our hometown in Glasgow, and when I look out of the window, I have a view of the most enormous crane (a remnant of shipbuilding days gone past). Here, as I sit typing, I see the leaves of one of the palms from our banana tree in our back garden. Hence the name Cranes to Palms.Hope you enjoy my experiences here, and how they help me to grow!