I met Sarah when she was a week old. That wasn't when she met me, though... Sarah never opened her eyes till she was three weeks old. As far as I was concerned,she wouldn't focus on anything apart from her mum. She flat refused. Then, when a little older, she would stare at the sunshine and the trees through her balcony. Again, as far as I was concerned, she didnt want to see anything else.
Then one day, she looked at me, focused, took in my features, and wrinkled up her nose. Actually!!
Let me tell you, I hate babies. This hatred stems from all the Indian babies I have seen. Nothing, I repeat NOTHING, is more ill mannered, loud, crass and annoying than the Indian Baby and the Indian newly-become Parents. I have not hesitated to make babies cry by looking at them, nor have I hesitated to tell Indian parents as politely as possible to do their Job, or stay at home till they learn to do their Job.
Having said that, I love animals, and old people. I am not really a bad person, I just hate Babies.
I once offended someone by bluntly saying; "I have no idea what to do with babies, but I know how to deal with animals, so believe me your daughter will be fine."
I, with some amount of hesitation, will say, that nothing is more disciplined that European Dogs and Children. European children are never heard, unless they are practicing the violin. They never show off, never behave like children aren't supposed to, eat what they are given, and go to bed by 8pm. They read, play, and upset their cereal bowls in the tidiest, and most independent way possible.
Heather and Sarah are different.
I have treated Sarah like she is a new little puppy, and Heather is totally ok with that. As a mother, Heather is totally unlike anyone I have seen. She is happy to allow Sarah to explore, to learn, and be influenced by a lamp-post, if Sarah ever decides that the lamp post is inspiring. Heather even carried her baby upside down (nearly upside down, ok), and very casually will ask any odd-job guy with a measuring tape..."will you please measure my baby for me, please?"
I have been treating Sarah like a Kitten, then a Frog, and currently a Rabbit. Sarah loves this treatment. And Heather doesn't see anything unusual in this. So that is good.
Heather is Austrian-American-Jewish. Daddy is Kenyan-Kikoyu. So Sarah is curly haired, snub nosed, smiley faced,caramel custard colored, and has about the sexiest lips that the world will ever see. She poops about twenty times a day, drinks milk, sleeps, and wrinkles her nose when stressed.
Sarah is spoken to in Kiswahili, and English.
Today, I was in the middle of MANY things when Sarah and Heather came around. I was, in my head, being carpenter, supervising the gas connection, finishing some work that I had to send out, and getting around to washing the two-day-stale African Shamba mud off my denims, that was probably beginning to sprout green shoots. To top this all, it has been raining nonstop, and I have been feeling cold and retarded due to this nonstop NONSTOP showers.
I was standing in the balcony, I took Sarah from Heather,held her like I would hold a rabbit, and god knows what happened to me, I started telling her stuff in Bengali. About the sunshine, the Jacaranda outside my house, the fact that I am so hassled. And I called Sarah all the bengali words for "little things".... from "chhoto" to "phutki" to "guri-gulo"(crumbs).
And I asked her if she understood this language. Sarah gave one of her best toothless grins.
Then I asked her if she liked the language. She kicked her legs up, held up her arms, and like a cat wanting to be tickled in the belly, and she purred. I am not exaggerating.
I asked her, with no love or affection in my voice, if Bengali is what she liked to hear. To which she drooled.
I showed her my rows of books. Her forehead frowned a bit, she leant closer to them, then nodded her head a few times...like an old man, as if approving of them. I said, "Pondit, na tumi? Shob jeno khub bujjho? PhD korey esheychcho?" (Learned man, are you? As if you understand all of this. Have you done a PhD or what....loosely translated). Sarah turned to me, smiled a little.
So I spent a good half an hour talking to Sarah in Bengali. I dont know what I had to tell her. And I dont know why I had to speak Bengali all of a sudden. After I switched back to thinking in English, I did this-and-that-said-that-spoke-to-her.... and just before Sarah was leaving, I said Bye, Sarah. The girl didn't even look at me. Then I, in the voice I use to talk to animals when it is about to do something wrong, a little sternly, and a little admonishingly said..."Ei je. Tumi ki jachcho? Tata. a bar esho, kintu." And she turned her head, focused, and gave me a massive gummy grin.
I still hate babies. I am no-good with them. But this Little Missy is one helluva person, with a mind of her own. I am curious to see how this Jewish-Kikoyu baby learns Bengali. I shall also try Gujarati on her someday. And I think she wants to be a different animal now. ooof!
Then one day, she looked at me, focused, took in my features, and wrinkled up her nose. Actually!!
Let me tell you, I hate babies. This hatred stems from all the Indian babies I have seen. Nothing, I repeat NOTHING, is more ill mannered, loud, crass and annoying than the Indian Baby and the Indian newly-become Parents. I have not hesitated to make babies cry by looking at them, nor have I hesitated to tell Indian parents as politely as possible to do their Job, or stay at home till they learn to do their Job.
Having said that, I love animals, and old people. I am not really a bad person, I just hate Babies.
I once offended someone by bluntly saying; "I have no idea what to do with babies, but I know how to deal with animals, so believe me your daughter will be fine."
I, with some amount of hesitation, will say, that nothing is more disciplined that European Dogs and Children. European children are never heard, unless they are practicing the violin. They never show off, never behave like children aren't supposed to, eat what they are given, and go to bed by 8pm. They read, play, and upset their cereal bowls in the tidiest, and most independent way possible.
Heather and Sarah are different.
I have treated Sarah like she is a new little puppy, and Heather is totally ok with that. As a mother, Heather is totally unlike anyone I have seen. She is happy to allow Sarah to explore, to learn, and be influenced by a lamp-post, if Sarah ever decides that the lamp post is inspiring. Heather even carried her baby upside down (nearly upside down, ok), and very casually will ask any odd-job guy with a measuring tape..."will you please measure my baby for me, please?"
I have been treating Sarah like a Kitten, then a Frog, and currently a Rabbit. Sarah loves this treatment. And Heather doesn't see anything unusual in this. So that is good.
Heather is Austrian-American-Jewish. Daddy is Kenyan-Kikoyu. So Sarah is curly haired, snub nosed, smiley faced,caramel custard colored, and has about the sexiest lips that the world will ever see. She poops about twenty times a day, drinks milk, sleeps, and wrinkles her nose when stressed.
Sarah is spoken to in Kiswahili, and English.
Today, I was in the middle of MANY things when Sarah and Heather came around. I was, in my head, being carpenter, supervising the gas connection, finishing some work that I had to send out, and getting around to washing the two-day-stale African Shamba mud off my denims, that was probably beginning to sprout green shoots. To top this all, it has been raining nonstop, and I have been feeling cold and retarded due to this nonstop NONSTOP showers.
I was standing in the balcony, I took Sarah from Heather,held her like I would hold a rabbit, and god knows what happened to me, I started telling her stuff in Bengali. About the sunshine, the Jacaranda outside my house, the fact that I am so hassled. And I called Sarah all the bengali words for "little things".... from "chhoto" to "phutki" to "guri-gulo"(crumbs).
And I asked her if she understood this language. Sarah gave one of her best toothless grins.
Then I asked her if she liked the language. She kicked her legs up, held up her arms, and like a cat wanting to be tickled in the belly, and she purred. I am not exaggerating.
I asked her, with no love or affection in my voice, if Bengali is what she liked to hear. To which she drooled.
I showed her my rows of books. Her forehead frowned a bit, she leant closer to them, then nodded her head a few times...like an old man, as if approving of them. I said, "Pondit, na tumi? Shob jeno khub bujjho? PhD korey esheychcho?" (Learned man, are you? As if you understand all of this. Have you done a PhD or what....loosely translated). Sarah turned to me, smiled a little.
So I spent a good half an hour talking to Sarah in Bengali. I dont know what I had to tell her. And I dont know why I had to speak Bengali all of a sudden. After I switched back to thinking in English, I did this-and-that-said-that-spoke-to-her.... and just before Sarah was leaving, I said Bye, Sarah. The girl didn't even look at me. Then I, in the voice I use to talk to animals when it is about to do something wrong, a little sternly, and a little admonishingly said..."Ei je. Tumi ki jachcho? Tata. a bar esho, kintu." And she turned her head, focused, and gave me a massive gummy grin.
I still hate babies. I am no-good with them. But this Little Missy is one helluva person, with a mind of her own. I am curious to see how this Jewish-Kikoyu baby learns Bengali. I shall also try Gujarati on her someday. And I think she wants to be a different animal now. ooof!
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