There She Blows

Is it not pleasant to putter around in the garden innoccent and unsuspecting of any dangers. We actually have several gardens now made and planted, and a gardener who either does not like how we do things or does not like it that we actually do things, or maybe he does not like why we do things, or where we do things, or... Anyway, he always rather boldly tries to do it for us. In this case that is okay, Katie needs to remain alert because a surprise lurks ominously above.

A bottle of watermelon juice? Oh, but what a history and destiny this bottle contains in itself. A couple weeks ago it was a normal old harmless water bottle, until we filled it a third full with rotten watermelon juice. Closing it tightly we left it out for about two weeks, and when we went back for it, we found it puffed out of shape hard as rock. It appeared like a disaster waiting to happen, and being as considerate and kind as we are, we decided to give it a hand and help it happen.

After making this highly intriguing discovering, we set about to expanding our arsenal.  And that is the moral, natural is always better, even for bombs. We call it explosive sustainability. Or I guess the moral Katie got out of this is never let boys have too much time on their hands.
The Post Host is still me, David, and plants may grow and bombs may blow, but you will never know/ When I will post again

Off We Go...

Allow me to introduce the fifth member of our team (I am not sure who the fourth one is)...Minidor.  This huffing puffing chugging machine makes all our work possible, and even makes work for us, too. We cruise around town at an astonishing maximum speed of roughly around 31.06856 miles/hour.  If there ever was a threesome that needed a complete make over it is the three-wheeled vehicle we call our transportation.  Actually, it has been a good little bucket of rattling nuts and bolts (guess who are the nuts).  To date, it has given us only slight discomfort, and that is usually in the lower back. It somehow manages to take us everywhere, from  one side of FFC to the other side, to church, to the airport, to picking up hay and coconut fibers, to places that I wish it could not take us. For example, a local dairy farm where we retrieved cow dung. Happily, know one has gotten hurt on our trips.

However, one of its most important duties if that of conveying us safely to the organic shop were we purchase the necessities of sustaining life, red rice, dates, millet, Braggs Soy Sauce, etc.  Neither is the outcome always pleasant.  It is not easy to be crammed into a tiny cab with three shrinking bodies and bundles of goodness on your lap, but it is easy to eat to much in such a situation.
The moral of the story is of course eat while the eating is good.
and the secondary moral is if at first you do not succ(eat), try try again.  Now you know why I stray to far from the kitchen floor (they do not use tables, just the floor).
And this is David your Post Host. I still need to learn to be a hospitable host, because you just never know when I will post again.

Downright Trudgery

Tragic drudgery...trudgery, that is what happens behind the new project building.

This long stretch of ruble sprawls itself behind the House of Hope, but it did not look very hopeful.  In your minds eye imagine this as a road of rocks, covered in concrete, wearing a mask of dust, dirt, and debris.Can you imagine that? Well all I have to do is go there and its stares me in the face.  Some person, and I will not say names had the wonderful idea of cleaning this out by hand.  How in the world did I ever agree? 

So we grabbed our shovels, buckets, pick, iron rod, and homemade rake and threw ourselves into the daunting task of uncovering the earth from her cumbersome concrete coat.  To avoid the suffocating afternoon heat we toil here mostly in the evening under the glow of tube lights jimmy rigged expressly for the  purpose.

As if to lull me into complacency, progress was rapid for the first couple of days, seeing that the concrete was only an inch thick or so.  Breaking the cement with rod and pick, we could fairly easily scoop out the chunks and then sift them so as not to lose any of the dirt.  While the finer workable dirt is restored to the garden area, a huge mountain of heavy stone, jagged cement, and brittle brick is growing just around the corner from were we work.  I am still not sure just what we are going to do with it all, but I have a hunch we will be doing a lot hauling in the near future.  Unfortunately, and I should have seen it coming my way, just as we were guessing and anticipating the day when we would finish we struck the mother load.  Rocks buried to a depth of about two feet. What would have taken us one day to do has occupied three days of labor.  Next time we will count the chicks after they hatch.

The story is not all sadness and sorrow.  On the contrary we enjoy ourselves. One night I think the dust and  fatigue went to our heads and we tangled ourselves into a dust biting wrestling match.  Making sure to stay on the softer dirt, the game went on for a while.  It is not like we were not tired from working and needed to get our energy out, we had just temporarily slipped outside the realm of sanity.  Of course it happened on the day I wore my white shirt.  And that is the moral of the story, do not wear a white shirt to a dirty job.

Well, you can always find something enjoyable about any job you do. Can any body tell me something enjoyable about washing a white shirt by hand?

David the Post Host has done it again. Although I cannot tell you when we will be done, I can let you know ex post facto because you never know when I will post again.

Student Workers

Just as you enter the gate of the House of Hope property to the left is a small open area shaded by several trees, as seen in the picture.  In order to be gardenable we needed to clean out trees, stumps and rocks.  This was a project waiting to happen, and one bright morning it did.

With the arrival of the York, a high school in Toronto Canada, students, we were gladly put them right to work.  First, the trees had to come down.  I wish the tools had matched the enthusiasm shown by some of these young Canadians.  Our ax proved to very handy, that means it needed a lot hands, because the head kept trying to escape from the handle. Nevertheless, the trees came down.

Clearing branches was a little easier and more people friendly.  It is hard to get a group to chop down the same tree at the same time, but there were plenty of branches to go around, and luckily enough tools to go around.  The York students brought some gardening tools, too.

I must admit that hard work was a little foreign to these students, but they displayed, some more than others, a desire to learn how.  Well, they are students and that should be their goal...to learn, right?

Where once stood trees and shade ruled now stands ground welcoming the suns rays and ready to be tidied and become a productive organic garden.
It was sizable amount of work and we appreciate the effort provided by the York students.  If this is what they did in three hours imagine what we could have done in three days, or three weeks, or three months (but let us stop there, I do not want to imagine three years of this).  Large crews of volunteers willing to get down in the dirt and work always make our lives easier and happier. We all enjoyed the work.
So the moral of the story obviously is if you want to make me happy and make yourself happy give me food and while you chop down a tree or two!  I wish that was a moral.  How about good hard work and accomplishing something big always makes you feel good inside. For some people like the York students it was sweating, chopping, and working to clean up the place. For someone like me hard work and something big would be to spend three hours sweating, chopping, and working to make a big plate of food.  Either way you get a good feeling inside.
That there was David your Post Host, hosting a posting again. Remember that when you are sad it is called post-happiness. Cheer up because you never know when I will post again.

The Great Question

It seems to me that the no matter who I talk to or where I go in FFC the first question is always the same.  No, it is not "How are you doing?", or even "Eating finished?" which means did you eat already, which is a standard question here for some reason.  Do not get me wrong these question are usually asked, everyday for that matter, but the all consuming question on everyone's lips is, "Where is Katie?".  I am glad to be of service to others, but a sign post could do this job.  Anyway, just in case you are asking the same question, here are some hints to where you might find her. 

You might try looking for her in the infirmary, talking, laughing, and trying to help those that are suffering. With some she even has been helping with a few herbs, but we do not have enough herbs to do very much.

Or maybe some little whippersnapper is occupying Katie's time, and that could happen anywhere.

Again, good luck finding her if she is planting trees of flowers because then she does not stop in one place.  Do you not think these young coconut trees are beautiful. 

If she is busy with administrative or staff problem, which does not happen infrequently, then go to the office. She gets stuck there for hours sometimes. 

When you pick up trash one day a go back the next you are sure to find trash there again.  Not only Katie is kept busy cleaning up the place, and so it is still difficult to find her sometimes.

Just maybe she is at her little house making some wholesome raw goodies, like banana ice cream.  At these times I am the one looking for her!

Then every so often we find her caring for some poor creature.  In this instance some of the small boys brought Katie a newly born kitten, which we called Olive.  Happily, it was successfully reunited with its forlorn mother a couple days later.

More often than not, she is helping some misguided boy with his problems. They show up at any hour, but right about bed time is a favorite time for them to come.  Katie loves helping them.  I do not mind helping but the only help they want from me is to tell them where Katie is. 

Again her herbs are a great pastime.  The plants we bought have grown, and stevia still makes a wonderful treat. While doing this she is usually at the new building, where we keep most of our plants, and where we are landscaping and making gardens.

The moral of the story turns out to be do not ask me where Katie is because half the time I am looking for her myself!  Or how about; if you work hard doing what you are supposed to be doing then really do lose yourself...and everyone else loses you too.

This is David once more, your Post Host.  Work hard and wait because you never know when I will post again.

Indian Pancakes

Well, I do not know if we are going crazy, losing our diet or what but we made a variation of an Indian recipe called Sweet Dosa that is the closes thing I have had to pancakes since starting this new diet. I will share the recipe and see what you think.  Do you have your pencils ready?
1. Soak as much wheat as you want for about 12 hours.
2. Remove the wheat and mix in a blender, Vitamix, or mixie, as they call it in India.
3. Start mixing with a little water (you can use the water you soaked the wheat in) and add enough water to make a rather runny dough, more runny than regular pancake dough.
4. Add salt to taste.
Sorry these are not the best instructions, you might have to learn from trial and error. But be sure you do not add other things otherwise it might stick to the pan when you fry it.
5. In a pan, preferable stainless steel, pour in some coconut oil
6. Pour in the dough and spread it out thin.
Immediately the dough will start to change color where has cooked through, and after about thirty seconds it will be mostly cooked so flip it over and cook for a few more seconds.  We are not sure just how raw this is since it cooks so fast, even when we do it on a low heat. But if you try it enjoy with maple syrup and dried blueberries if possible. Try anything else on it.  We did fresh grated coconut mixed with raw honey and dried blueberries, it was divine!

Mary, Garden, Contrary, Grow, How?

Wondering if you were wondering how our wonderful gardens are created.  Well, we wondered if we could share the wonder of it with you all.  All this is done under the scrupulous and detailed direction of the Director of the orphanage, Families for Children.  For more detail on the gardens go to gardensforchildren.blogspot.com

It really is extra different from any garden I have done (just do not ask me how many gardens I have done).  It all starts off with coconut coir, the stuff around the hard shell that protects the coconut (I never really knew about this stuff myself until I came here).  Make sure though that the coir has been soaking in water for at least three days before applying.

Then comes the dirt pudding, but be wary how you throw it on.  You do  not want to disturb the coir slumbering sweetly. This mixture comes from the dirt which was previously removed from the garden site, before coir was laid.

Of course we could not proceed without explaining the composition and nature of the pudding.  It consists of a lovely mixture of dirt, goat dung, and vermi-compost, all jumbled together and moistened until it threatens to become mud.  Dried leaves are optional.  You should have two piles of this pudding.

Some call this type of garden a lasagna garden, and here you can see why.  Noodles!  Actually, it happens to be old, cold, moldy hay that was used to grow mushrooms, but has since been retired from that service and was promoted to garden use. The hay is applied liberally on top of the dirt pudding.

After that, we again laid sopping wet coir, and threw on our second pile of the dirt pudding as the finishing touch to our lasagna garden.  It definitely takes work and time, and hopefully the result are as rewarding as our labor was intensive.  If so we should have wonderful delicious vegetables.  By now we have four of these gardens, and we are continuing to do more.
Here it comes, the moral of the story.  A strong back and a weak mind make a happy gardener. Obviously not.  If you are working too hard, stop and figure out a better way to do it.  In this very garden we planted four young tomato plants and after a week or so one had died and the others looked exactly the same as when we had planted them. Now they have grown a little, but not much.  Oh well, we are not in charge of the garden, so maybe a strong back and a weak mind would not be such a bad idea!

Anyway, this is David your Post Host.  You  really do not need a strong back or mind to know that you never know when I will post again.

Reaching Goals!

Life is not all about sitting in the shade, drinking coconut water, and doing nothing with your life.  Goals are needed. To illustrate, let us consider the my experience with climbing coconut trees.
Since coming to India my loathing and disdane for even the sight of coconuts was already a long established mind set.  However, seeing how they grow and are so uselful, desiring also to partake what others seemed so much to enjoy, and with a little help from the three day coconut oil diet I overcame this dislike. Now it thrills my taste buds to eat coconuts, whether tender, mature, or dried.  I still am not completely sold on coconut water, but even fresh virgin coconut oil tastes good to me.
Instead of allowing myself to be dependent on someone else to climb and retrieve coconut's for me I decided it was time I learned to master the art of tree climbing.  So now you have the background and an idea of motivation behind my endeavor.

 To start you secure firmly the trunk of the tree. By the way, it is easier during the day. Make sure you have an experienced climber instruct you in the ways of climbing. Then stay focused and do not look down, at least until you reach the top then be careful you do not let height make you dizzy, some of these trees get to be 100 ft tall.

Victory! There is nothing like conquering a goal, especially a coconut tree.

Even if it is eight feet tall!
 The moral of the story is make goals that sound big but are easy to reach.  Okay, maybe if you have a goal start small and work up to bigger ones.  (Next time you climb a coconut tree though, make sure it actually has coconuts.)

And there goes David the Post Host...maybe you should stop reading these posts and be glad that you never know when I will post again.

Many Hands and Still Hard Work

After slaving on the ruble filled garden for a few days we were more than happy to have extra help, in addition to the FFC boys who assist us as often as their schooling and chores allow.  On the morning of 27th of February, the year is obvious, a group of seven young men and women from our church arrived helped us clear out the a portion of the area behind the new building, still in process of being completed.

For a couple of hours we worked, removing large stones and chunks of old cement, who knows how long it has been sitting here.

Also, lumps and ditches were leveled and filled, while some sifted through the rocky soil, extracting junk and debris.

Here is a nice project that they helped us start, but we either have to find something bigger than a hatchet or dedicate a month to this project

Then, of course, nothing in life is complete without a good meal to enjoy.  Fresh homemade watermelon juice to defy the solar furry of the day, and some hot chapatis and omelets to fill the belly.  All who participated enjoyed not only the food, but the work as well.

The grand moral of the story whenever you work hard and do something nice for someone you always have a good feeling inside, sometimes right about where your stomach is.   Okay, you wont always get fed, but there is nothing like working outside in God's good nature and beautifying those area already wreck by men's "ingenious" constructions.
Oh no! David the Post Host forgot to dig a post hole...I guess you will just have to ready because you never know when he will post again.

Snakes and Ladders/Rakes

 The phone rang…jostling us from our innocent enjoyment of a quiet uneventful evening.   Even the Sun had gone to bed.  It was Peter, the contractor for our new building, and in an eager manner urged us to hasten to the rescue of his workers who were camping out in an old building on the construction site.  It appears that the men had left the women at home and they encountered a snake.  Now, let me warn you it is not uncommon to find poisonous snakes here.  In panic they had called their boss, Peter, who called Katie, who told us, Mani and I, to investigate the matter, and we told...ourselves to be calm.  Arming ourselves with a flashlight, a large sack, our new rebar rake we had made, and a machete we traveled the short distance to the site, fortunately meeting up with the wayward men returning from their little shopping trip.  We advanced to the old building where the women were waiting with the door closed in fear.  Through the grating, one lady informed us that the culprit serpent had been sitting in the front of the door like an anticipating cat purposefully waiting to pounce on any unwary passerby.  Whether because of our resolute approach or for some other cause, we may never know, but the serpent has skulked away to some hidden retreat.  Looking about we spied a sheet of metal lying unobtrusively close by.   If I were a snake, I would love to sleep under a metal sheet.  We all had the same idea and mutely and spontaneously decided to take a peek, from a distance of course.  Just like we feared, when the sheet went up the snake came out and the frenzy began.  Telling us it was poisonous and giving Mani and I no chance to act, the men took our rake and some stones and after a confused kafuffle and high paced action it was over.  Mani ended up with the rake again and had secured the snake in place while the deed was done.  All heaved a sigh of relief and Mani triumphantly lifted the rake, then bent out of any recognizable shape and brought it down victoriously by his side.  I must here tell you of the mistake I made, and that was to stand by Mani.  The rake viciously found a new victim in the form of my foot.   Pain, surprise, and the pent up emotion of the preceding few minute erupted in unintelligible ejaculations.  However, upon close examination I found I had suffered only one minor scratch on my toe.  I think because the rake was so battered my foot found a nook in which it escaped a serious rusty collision.  God was watching out for us that day.  The serpent that had disturbed us was rather big, 47 inches long and about the thickness of a baseball bat.  We have also come to the conclusion that it is probably a python and not some poisonous viper as feared.

Now with every experience comes a lesson to be learned if desired.  For me the moral of the story is never stand by Mani if he has a tool or weapon in his hands…the result can be painful.  I guess that does not apply to everyone since few have the opportunity to be in Mani’s company.  Let say that the moral is look before you strike, because you may find out the snake is not dangerous and could have been saved or that the foot really is not worth striking anyway!

I hope you enjoyed this adventure with David the “one footed” Post Host.  So if you have toes stay on them because you never know when I will post again.  Sorry there are no pictures on this one.

Post-Intermission

Hooray! We are now back in business.  The illusive internet has finally been subdued brought into service...at least for now.  Everyday holds a new surprise!
One fine day, too far back for my short term memory to recall, our internet chip suddenly and decisively failed.  Stubbornly, it resisted all pleadings and demands to work. In the end the it was decided that they would throw out the worthless troublemaker and set up the volunteers with wireless.  Sounded like the best idea yet.  People have a habit of deceiving themselves.

Impartial to our situation the earth revolved merrily as before.  First once, then twice, then thrice and so on continuously adding to the growing number of days it took to resolve the problems.  "Tomorrow, they will do it" was the habitual response to our inquiries. I have yet to live through a tomorrow. It became painfully clear that it was not about to happen soon. In order to accomplish some desired tasks I even took our laptop to the office which has wireless internet, but as if I had been jynxed the internet was shut of after about five minutes.  Reluctantly, I resigned myself to my fate of solitary cyber isolation. Someone, I do not know who, had the brilliant idea to buy a new internet chip.  By this time we were happy to try anything. Soon enough they gave us the chip and with high hopes we tested it...suspense...loading...authenticating...please wait...Sorry, the remote computer is not responding.  Thus is the sad saga of our struggle.  Calling, testing, giving, taking back, hoping ensued and continued for the next few days until the 1st of March.  With the beginning of a new month, the internet service must have come back from vacation or something, because it now works properly. Hopefully this is no fleeting phantom of functioning internet, that rises for an instant and dissipates the next.
It is the obvious moral of the story that if you want internet never buy an internet chip.  If that is not good enough try this.  Do not get connected to the world, besides what happens if you loose connection...you could go crazy like us.
Wait, do not cut your internet connection just yet, because you never know when I will post again. Thanks, this is your Post Host, David.