Cold Spaghetti

I took this photograph outside the paper factory we toured near the city of Jaipur, in Rajasthan, India.  Child labor, though certainly outlawed in the world’s largest democracy, is still a reality — as has been pointed out in the post-Commonwealth Games scandals.

Still, I was perplexed by this sign.  Is it a reminder for others not to put children to work in factories?  Is it a symbol of a reformed factory, one that used to use children but has now fixed its ways?  Is it a legal announcement, required for this type of business?

And for the record: in our small sample of places we entered unannounced, there were certainly no children of any sort working or otherwise on the premises.

It is pretty nice.

So here is how it went down: a few years ago, when I was teaching the class in Peru, we went to Machu Picchu.  There is one hotel up on the mountain beside the sanctuary.  When you stay there, you have non-tourist hours access and other privileges… plus, you’re RIGHT THERE.  But, since it was a ridiculous amount of money ($500 or so a night), Paul and I scoffed.  No way, we said.  That is a ridiculous waste.

And later, we regretted it.  We learned: if you manage to get half-way around the world to see something tremendous, pay the extra to get every bit that you can out of it.

When we went to Agra, we decided to do it right.  So, we stayed in the only hotel in the Green Zone, the only hotel with views of the Taj in every room, the only hotel that every guide says to stay in, even if you have to skimp on other things during your trip.  We stayed at the Oberoi.  Our stay in this property was more than quadruple the total of all our other lodging in India — more than three weeks — plus meals.  In other words, it was pricey.  We felt, as Paul put it, “like we were pretending to be somebody else.”

Here is a collection of photos to give a sense of what it was like…

(There are guards all around the property.  It made us sort of miss the “real” India… the one right beyond the gate!)

(This is the plastic bag that the kids let slip off our balcony while eating the crackers and fruit we’d brought with us… we thought for sure we were going to be asked to leave!)

The view is really incredible.  Both the grounds, and the Taj beyond, are fantastic in all light.

We swam in the pool both days (chilly!)  Because there weren’t many kids at the hotel, and because it is SO DARN SWANKY, we really felt nervous about letting them really let go and play.  A downside of fancy hotels: no COWABUNGA jumping in the pool…

The upside: walking through the blue water through the archways felt like exploring some flooded, undiscovered ancient tomb.  Like something out of an Indiana Jones adventure!

We did let Kate practice her “India dancing” on the patio outside… much to the delight of hotel staff!

Room service was a must.  Plus, kids aren’t allowed in the main dining room!

When the sun sets, torches are lit to prepare for nightly entertainment above the pool deck.

Turn down service is very thorough.  They even clean the bathroom!

More information about the Oberoi here.  In our opinion: it is worth the splurge!

After exploring the world of block-printing, we went to another part of the little town.  This time, we set off to find where paper is made.

It took a little bit of talking to get in, but once we did, we were given a thorough tour of the process.  Everyone was quite nice, probably because they figured we were so insane, it was better to just play along.

First: bags of recycled fabric are organized and shredded by color.  This is done by hand:

Here are some shreds:

The shredded fabric is piled up, waiting to be further shredded.

Then the piles of fabric are fed through a wood-chipper type machine, that turns the fabric into a fibrous tangle of mess.

It looks like this when it comes out of the machine:

Then this is put in very hot water and turned into pulp.  It is moved through this machine:

Coloring and other additives are put in at this phase (flower petals, glitter, etc.)

Then the watery pulp is moved into these huge vats.  This is what the pulp of blue paper looks like at this phase:

Men, working in the humid. hot room, use screens to flatten and lift the pulp into long sheets.

First, they put the screen in the water, spreading pulp on it.  Then they put a fabric screen on top, to flatten and smooth the pulp.

They are putting a screen on the screen:

With the extra screen on, they flip the board and press hard, letting extra water splash and seep out.

The process moves quickly!

Here they are pressing the pulp into paper through the screen.

They are left with individual sheets with a thin fabric screen in between them.  The paper is still very wet.

The room is filled with pairs of workers toiling on this task in the humid air.

After all the pulp is used, the paper is brought to a drying area.

There is a press to get out more water if necessary.

When it is dry, someone manually removes each protective screen from each sheet.  Paper is born!

The paper is then ironed and stacked for shipment.

There were huge reams just waiting to be sent off.

Much of this will be sold wholesale to distributors to turn it into journals and notebooks.

Viola!  Paper!

The Bahá’í House of Worship in Delhi is called the Lotus Temple… for reasons that are quite clear:

It sits in the center of a massive garden in Delhi.  To get to it, you walk down a long brick path (perfect for a quick photo-opt!)

Groups of young men (boys school?  young military units?) were also visiting.  Though we weren’t the only light-skinned tourists, we were the only ones with small children — so, like everywhere else, we drew friendly attention and interest.  Even a salute!

No shoes are allowed!

The temple is surrounded by reflecting pools.

According to Wikipedia:

As with all other Bahá’í Houses of Worship, the Lotus Temple is open to all regardless of religion, or any other distinction, as emphasized in Bahá’í texts.  The Bahá’í laws emphasize that the spirit of the House of Worship be that it is a gathering place where people of all religions may worship God without denominational restrictions.  The Bahá’í laws also stipulate that only the holy scriptures of the Bahá’í Faith and other religions can be read or chanted inside in any language; while readings and prayers can be set to music by choirs, no musical instruments can be played inside. Furthermore no sermons can be delivered, and there can be no ritualistic ceremonies practiced.

No photography is allowed inside the temple, as this man in the center was explaining to the crowd about to enter.  Also, complete silence is mandatory.

Okay — so I’ll level here: Though I consider myself a spiritual person, I don’t believe in God and am not one to worship.  I was expecting to enjoy the architecture of this building and have a few moments of shared peace with the people inside.

I was completely unprepared for how incredibly moving it was inside.  There isn’t anything specific I can put my finger on to describe why, or how, or what — but being in that space?  It moved me to tears.  Whether it was the overwhelming peace of silence, the hundreds of others respecting the prayers of others, or simply the beauty of the building itself, I can’t say.  Even Paul found himself blinking back unexpected emotion.

Afterwards, the kids were asked for more photographs.

(Actually, on this occasion, I was asked for photographs, too.  By different men who posed with me.  Go figure?)

Wikipedia has more about the Bahá’í Faith here, should you want to learn more about it.  This particular religion emphasizes the spiritual unity of all humankind — and yet its followers are persecuted in modern day.  It is worth a few minutes of investigation; and if one has the opportunity to visit a Bahá’í Temple, I certainly encourage it!

One of our favorite days in India was spent on the outskirts of Jaipur, when we went looking for block print artisans.  Our friend Bela is from Jaipur and her father, sister-in-law, and nieces still live there — and agreed to accompany us to a small town where they new block printers were at work.  Swati (Bela’s sister-in-law) had once worked in a school in the town, which gave some direction to our search.

Finally, we stopped on a regular street — regular in the sense that there were camels passing by…

… and brightly decorated trucks parked along the side…

… and friendly people rushing over to see Kate when she emerged from the car.  A very ordinary experience, surrounded by ordinary sights, in this very extraordinary place.

Right beside all of this, there on the side of that road, in a three-walled shelter opening up to the street, were men carving extraordinary blocks.

Did I mention that they were extraordinary?

At first, they were a little uncertain about why we would even be interested.  Obviously we’re… tourists… right?  Except tourists don’t do this sort of thing.  When they saw how genuinely interested and curious we were, they opened up, showing some techniques and styles of their work.  And gave the kids a few blocks!  They laughed and smiled as the kids ooohed and aaaahed over the scorpion, elephants, and flowers these men had carved out of seemingly ordinary bits of wood.  Simply amazing.

The detail, precision, and layering of each pattern is truly beautiful.  In order for the printing to involve several colors, each pattern requires several complimentary patterns to layer over the first.  So the sizing, grouping, and shapes must be perfect for each set.  They were doing it all with a few small chisels and lengths of wood to use as hammers.

Really, really, beautiful work.

From there, the block artisans told us to go next door to see where their blocks were used… in the print building.  This particular print-maker was made members of a particular family, as is common in this trade.  The “factory” was upstairs.  So, after giving as many thanks as we could, we ventured next door.

Through a narrow doorway, over a flooded area of the ground floor where a pipe had recently leaked and was being repaired, then up some stairs… and…

Printing artisans were methodically using ink, blocks, and leveling tools to maintain precision in each stamp of the block.  Fabric was draped over huge long tables, with more fabric drying from lines across the ceiling above.

Fabric (for pillow cases and sheets) lay around the room in varying stages of production.

Layers are slowly added, color by color.  The pattern is applied stamp by stamp, with painstaking detail to line up each application.  Pieces of thin cardboard are used to make corners — they are placed across the fabric so that only certain portions of the block print, making solid corners.

Below is the block making the base pattern on these sheets:

Although they had to be surprised by our bold entry, the artists quickly put aside their work to show us around.  Then they insisted we try it, too.  They found a piece of pre-treated fabric, made some room, and gathered a few blocks making a layered pattern.  Then talked us through each step, giving everyone a chance to try.

The base pattern allows for the subsequent colors to layer on in the proper places.  The next blocks must be lined up with clues in the base pattern to keep everything together.

A good, hard, tap is needed to transfer the ink.

Kate loved practicing.

The artist helped guide Kate’s hand for the color application.

Will was more bashful.

It took him a few minutes to feel comfortable with trying — and he welcomed help.

Once the fabric is done with printing, it must be soaked in a few different wet mixes to set the color: this pink color below is actually light green when it finally dries!

The artist took our cloth to start treatment, and I spent a few minutes watching the other artists at work.  The focus, detail, and methods of the process were fascinating.

It did not take long for the fabric to be ready for rinse.

The treatment set the color for the fabric — it is now one of Kate’s scarves!

This is the final color for the pink/red pillowcases in the picture above, just to get a sense of how the colors change in the ink wash.

Here is what they look like after the printing and before the wash!

This block-printing is a well-established art in and around Rajasthan, India.  We feel so lucky to have had Swati and her nieces with us to both facilitate and share this amazing experience!

For more examples of block print fabrics, see my two favorite shops in India: Anokhi and Fab India!

We arrived State-side before Thanksgiving and hit the ground running… the kids, recovering from their tummy troubles and me in the midst of my (first ever!) bacterial GI-disturbance.  It made for an interesting 15-hour plane ride (FYI: if you run out of Imodium somewhere over Iceland, the crew can’t help you — they only have aspirin).  But we did it.  We got back, so did our luggage.  Just as we were about to let out a big SIGH of relief…

— We enjoyed at least 5 different po’boys at the Po’Boy Preservation Fest on Oak Street roughly 36 hours after landing.

— I lectured for the entire student body (100+) a day later (who needs prep time?!)

— I presented a major section of my dissertation at the big Anthropology conference in town 3 days later, after having a total freak out when I discovered my co-panelists had prepared powerpoints (even calling Paul and asking him to watch for a text from me in case I chickened out and needed him to call with a make-up emergency).  I sucked it up, and hey, it turns out powerpoint is not a replacement for a good verbal presentation!  Who knew?

— Found one of our heaters died.  Brrrr.  And the cost to replace?  OUCH.  BUT!  AN UPSIDE!  They let Paul do some of the prep construction and wiring over Thanksgiving, which saved us some time and cash.

— Discovered I’m teaching a new course next spring, based on a proposal for 2-4 class sessions I wrote before leaving the country… one that will have 4-sections, is a requirement for all students, and needs a syllabus that not only I can teach, but so can 3 others.

— We threw a combined b-day party for Will and a friend (who was kind enough to offer to share his party with Will, realizing that we would not have had a chance to plan anything).

— Found out I’m a finalist for the tenure-track position I applied for, meaning that I’ve got to give a faculty lecture and have selection committee members sit in on my teaching early next term.

— Had family staying with us for Thanksgiving, including my Dad, who happily helped Paul saw out a 2×2 hole in the hallway ceiling in preparation for our day-after-Thanksgiving furnace work crew.

— The truck died, again, in the middle of a highway, with my Dad and Paul inside.  They were close to their intended destination (Lowe’s) and my Dad managed to push it across the highway with Dad steering.  Mid-lane, with traffic headed right toward them, the clutch engaged and Paul tore across the highway into the parking lot, burning rubber and leaving tire marks on the pavement.  When I picture this scene in my mind, it is accompanied by the sound of the horn of the General Lee, and both my Dad and Paul yelling “WOO-HOO” and throwing their dusty cowboy hats in the air.  Just in case you anyone was wondering if our world-travels have pushed us beyond the boundaries of redneck-living, the answer would be a resounding “NO.”

——

Now our lives are starting to settle into normal crazies, with one big difference.  That buzz in the background, the constant whirl of STUFF and THINGS TO DO is no longer there.  This is because the day before we left for India, I turned in the cotton-linen-printed copy of my dissertation.  By now, it’s bound in a leather book with my name gracing the spine in gold letters.  With any luck, it should remain as perfect and new as it is now… with no one ever opening it.  *sigh*  I’m DONE.  DONE DONE DONE.

Onward and upward.

Stay tuned for more India travels and photos!

Home to the ruling Mughal empire, the Red Fort in Agra (aka: Agra Fort) is considered to be one of the most important Forts in India (which is a big deal since India is a country chalked FULL of forts.)

The Agra Fort is also the other thing you do while in Agra, whenever you’ve got your fill of the Taj Mahal.  Most tour groups hit the Taj in the morning and head the 2.5 kms to the Red Fort in the afternoon.  This means that the Fort is wild in the afternoon, which is exactly when we went.

(This happened a few weeks ago (the 25th of October)… I’m playing catch-up!)

In its infancy, the site was a basic fort with important positioning for the Mughals.  When Akbar drove the Afghans from Agra in the mid 16th century, he chose Agra for the capital and began construction of the current fort in Red Sandstone.  A million and a half workers built a brick base and covered the exteriors with the red sandstone over an 8-year period, completing it in 1573.

Only a small area (roughly 1 km square) of the massive fort is open for tourists.  Significant portions are under study by archeologists and historians as they seek answers to questions about the Mughal Empire.  (Things like: why were they so darn blood-thirsty? YIKES.)

Here is a photo Kate took of the area entering the royal palaces.

We went with a guide who was recommended by our driver, Sodi, who was recommended as a friend of the driver of a friend of ours… which is how things work in India (just like New Orleans).  The guide was okay in the sense that he was a professional in managing tourists.  The issue is that we are not typical tourists.  (It took a few days, and several lengthy conversation with his driver friend, for Sodi to really understand that we weren’t typical tourists.  After he had established that we were crazy, we got on with him quite well.)

The Agra guide, however, was worth his salt in how he navigated us through the crowd at the Taj (and helped with those oh-so-important Taj family photos) — AND getting us through the crowds and touts in front of the Red Fort.  A decade or so ago, the effects of Agra-based industry pollutants were noted to be impacting the Taj.  So the Indian government relocated those industries as part of a massive plan to protect the world’s most beautiful building from deterioration.  This left tourism as the biggest (and basically only) industry in the area, with white-skinned tourists as the best cash-cow in the market.  It is not unlike being at Disney World, on one of the rides where you have to walk through a store to get back into the park when the ride is done.  In tourist sites in India, you’ve got to make your way through similar sellers hawking wares — albeit, in a much more direct assault.

Although it was the start of tourist season, we were frequently the only Westerners in tourist monuments.  The majority were Indians.  Families, tour groups, school classes, etc.

The views of the Taj Mahal across the river are wonderful.  The Red Fort is where Shan Jahan (the guy who built the Taj Mahal for his wife) was imprisoned for the last 7 years of his life.  He was held there by his son, Aurangzeb, who, in addition to locking up his Dad in the Red Fort, killed all his brothers and many of their sons.  (To be fair, Shan Jahan did much the same thing in his own quest for the throne.)  Aurangzeb did take things up a notch by sending his Dad a special message while imprisoned: the head of his brother, Dara, with a note: “So you know your son has not forgotten about you.”

I wasn’t kidding.  The Mughals were fierce.

But they did build some pretty buildings.

This is the marble tower, the Muasamman Burj, where Shah Jahan could gaze at his beloved Mumtaz Mahal’s resting place during his final years of life while imprisoned.  It is made from marble, which (as is clear from the Taj Mahal) was a favorite building product of Shah Jahan.

In fact, Shah Jahan liked marble so much that he actually tore down major portions of the interior of the Red Fort while he was Emperor… just to rebuild them with white marble.

The fort is very impressive.

So are Will and Kate.  They are some of the most popular tourist attractions in India.

Each of these men took pictures with the kids.  Each.  Man.  They giggled over the kids (Kate especially) as if they were visiting movie stars on location.

Mughal architecture is the name of the game in the Agra Fort.  They pulled out all the stops: big gates, moat, high arches for elephants, walls 70 feet in the air, and so on.  The Delhi Gate, which was completed for Akbar, was most impressive: it had a drawbridge and a two-gate system between which two elephants and riders stood positioned to crush anyone who happened to get through.  Though that layer of security was probably overkill… getting past the moat and drawbridge, then taking the steep incline and sharp turn up to the gate would have been too much for an attacking army, which would have used elephants on fast approach to break through a standing gate.  The incline and 90-degree turn made the entrance “impregnable.”

The picture below isn’t of the Delhi Gate (I don’t have pictures of it because tourists aren’t allowed there… the Indian military uses it!)  We entered through Amar Singh Gate, which was difficult enough (incline, turn, moat, etc.)  This photo isn’t of that Gate, either (we were walking too fast to get in through the crowd to stop and take photos).

This photo is from the outside of the Jahangiri Mahal, which is where you would have hung out if you were a member of the royal harem.  (The photo above of the Indian tourist family is from the inside of the Jahangiri Mahal.)

Here are the kids in the courtyard outside.  They are walking towards the entrance to the harem area after having yet-another-photo-session.

Once you’re through the harem and palaces of the queen(s) and princess(es), you get to the actual Muasamman Burj.  This is a view of the inside.  The carved depression in the floor was a watering hole where the imprisoned Emperor could have water to bathe, cool the room, or whatever else one could do in a room where water bubbles up from the floor.

Below, my schizophrenic photographs have brought us back into one of the palace rooms.  Carved sandstone everywhere.  Every. Where.

It’s also notable that there are motifs in the design taken from Muslim, Hindu, and Christian icons and imagery.  This was because many of the Mughals (who were Muslim) had the foresight to try and be respectful of other faiths in an effort to unify their Empire of Hindustan.  (This was until Aurangzeb, who was pretty hard-line in his practice of Sharia and came down hard on non-Muslims during his lengthy and bloody rule.)

This is what I mean — Hindu star shapes, Christian flowers, and Muslim script.  (At least, this is the break-down I scribbled in my notes… but I got something wrong and drew a lot of arrows, so I’m not sure that I’m remembering or noting this correctly.  If someone is a historian/architect/Mughal-guru, please chime in and set me straight!)

… aaaaand we’re back to marble!  This is that marble-obsessed Shah Jhan’s work again.

Sandstone arches!  Carved!

Even though only a small portion of the Fort is open, it is still a huge area to see.  We all got a little punchy by the time we reached the Grape Garden.  Here, 85 little plots were tended to by the Mughal royalty women.

Here is a view of the exterior wall, from inside the Fort.

Below is the beautiful, open, and airy Diwan-i-Am, the public audience of the Empire.  This is where the Emperor and his court could hear cases and make rulings of importance.  On things like whether or not you got to keep your head attached to your body.  A lovely place though.

And back to the garden!  Where we’re still being silly.

And where there are still tourists who want our photographs!

We are having the trip of a lifetime.  In little ways, Paul and I have been planning for this trip for years — we knew we would visit India as a family and know now that we will definitely be back many times in the future.  We love India and we love our friends and extended family here.  We love the country and its challenges, triumphs, and spirit.  That said, it is easy to romanticize this type of travel.  The sites, the people, the learning opportunities: these are most definitely unparalleled.  However, each of those amazing experiences are met with equally stupendous challenges.

We have frankly been blown away by how good our kids have been.  We’ve had many accidents (including Kate’s diarrhea episodes which, in one day, took out every pair of pants she had plus another pair I went to the market to buy).  Will fell down a series of stairs in the middle of Diwali festivities, scratching himself up (we’re concerned now that a puncture wound on his bottom is getting infected), and injuring his arm.  (Luckily, two Italian physicians were at the party and told us we could wait until the morning for an x-ray if we were able to keep his pain in control.)  Driving can be terrifying (the traffic, the style of passing, the stop-and-go) and is always on our minds as a risk (we all have frayed nerves after a few hours of road travel).   We’ve had a few melt-downs because the kids get beyond the point of exhaustion, so tired that they can’t calm themselves to sleep.  And still, they amaze us with their resiliency and ability to step up when we need them to.

For the sake of documentation, here is a bullet list of things we’ve learned and particular challenges we’ve had:

— With kids, we can travel half as fast and half as far as we thought we could.  In the future, we will add at least one  “down” day to every side-trip, every special event, and every long-day of sight-seeing.

— Travel outside of the U.S. in a country with infrastructure struggles, widespread poverty, and problematic development is very challenging with children.  Everything you take for granted in the U.S. becomes a major factor for planning and worry: water, hand-washing, bathrooms (oh, the bathrooms!), food, accidents, and more and more.

— The kids tire and want to be carried.  This is tough on us physically!  It means a lot more taxis, a lot less exploration in the ways we’d typically want to (walking through city streets, taking the long walk home in the mountains, etc.)

— A “normal” schedule is difficult.  Our kids are up early, have dinner early, and go to bed early.  In India, this is basically impossible at every juncture for a myriad of reasons… the country sleeps late, is up late, and eats late.

— Pollution is terrible in cities, so beyond the tummy issues (everyone but me has had diarrhea, though Paul has been by far the most ill), everyone gets coughs, itchy eyes, and respiratory problems.  Driving through dusty streets with the windows down (or in an open vehicle — which is sometimes a must so that engines don’t overheat in traffic) can be difficult on breathing, but with the windows up, you miss a lot.

— There is constant challenge in balancing the kids needs, people’s expectations and schedules, and our own plans.

— We did not prepare enough memory space for our photographs!  This will take some additional planning in future travel.

— Foreigners who travel to India seeking some sort of Eastern knowledge for personal enlightenment are seriously annoying.  This has very little to do with the kids; it just needed to be said.

Even with all the challenges, we are eager to take on more trips in the future.  We have learned a lot about how we function on the road and the kinds of things we need to support us along the way… hopefully we can take on more adventures without risk of mutiny!

UPDATE: Illness has struck hard-core!  Will started vomiting and diarrhea in terrible amounts today.  We hope we can get him to Delhi tomorrow.

After a dusty, bumpy, traffic-packed 2-day trip north, we arrived in Dharamsala.  Eight years ago, I lived here as an intern, earning credit towards my MPH by doing a community assessment with local NGOs through a host agency called Cross-Cultural Solutions.  There, I met Raja, the project director, and we quickly became friends.  It was unthinkable to come to India and not get up to Dharamsala and spend time with “Uncle Raja.”

A few years ago, Raja and his fiance, Elise, built a mud house in the Dharamsala village of Gamru.  Like all of Dharamsala, Gamru is a village stretched across the side of a mountain.  It is at about 6000 feet, and the walk is steep.  To get there, you have to use a footpath going around the mountain. It is easy to get winded walking up and down to the market and the house.

The day after we arrived, we took a walk with the kids up the mountain side a bit, along a water diversion path, and then into the valley and back up to the house.  When we set off, we were met by several donkeys, walking unattended down the road.  Elise told me that they make the trek all by themselves: they simply wait at the arrival spot until their owners to load and unload them.

As with most walks, Kate tired out quickly.  Paul and Raja took turns carrying her.  Raja joked that he would have no problem carrying her, as he carries heavy packs on his trekking trips (Raja runs a fantastic trekking company).  Paul warned that unlike a pack, Kate “squirms.”  Raja got to experience this first-hand as Kate directed our walk:

We followed the donkeys for the first part of the walk.  The peaks in the background are the Dhauladhar Range.

Will bounced, flung, jumped, ran, skipped, and stumbled his way — following Raja’s every step.

Except when he stopped to stretch out on a rock.

We passed a group of men working on some water diversion — unclogging the water ways and other water control concerns.  In one area, the wall was being repaired and getting across was a bit difficult (as there was a decent fall on the other side).  One of the men walked through the water (holding his pants up) to give us a hand in getting across.  Very kind.

For the most part, the channel was easy to walk along, though.

This is the view of the valley…

Kate loved the mountain water and stopped often to wash her face.

Here are some examples of the water works…

After climbing up, around, and over… we went off the path and started down.  That’s Paul and Elise far down the side of the mountain.

Here are Raja and the kids headed down.

Down in the valley, huge boulders were strewn in, with water rushing all around.  Will had endless rocks to scramble.

The rocks were all sizes.

The water was cool and fast.  Most areas were shallow, but with the long walk back, we wanted to stay as dry as possible.

Lots of sounds of rushing water — and views of mountains in the distance.

Will loved wading in the water.  He was dry for less than a minute.

Paul tried to relax.

Kate tried to pee and ended up having an accident.  We washed her in the river.  Then she fell in a few times.  So did Will.  In addition to both of them soaking themselves in the river water, they scrambled up and down rocks with enough stumbling and bumping to cause Paul and me at least four episodes of heart failure.

Kate stopped to poise for cuteness.

Luckily, Kate’s diarrhea started AFTER this trip.  Will and Paul had been struggling with tummy issues, but Kate’s recently took the prize… resulting me in going to the market to buy her more pants.  Those pants lasted only a few hours.  She is doing well, all things considered, and eating voraciously.  But with all the tummy issues, we’re lying low in the mountains for a few days so the kids can recover in what they consider to be paradise!