Tag: Lucy

sick Lucy

Lucy wasn’t able to come yesterday because she had to take her husband to a medical appointment at the hospital. Then last night she came down with a nasty flu so she is home again today. She called me a few minutes ago and said, “I was so worried about you this morning Madame. I knew you must have been struggling with the upstairs and the downstairs and getting the kids ready for school.” Hilarious. It’s true that she arrives and gets breakfast on the table before we come downstairs and then makes the boys’ lunches while we eat and read the bible story for the day. And she finds and fills their water bottles, makes sure their backpacks are sitting by the front door and helps the kids onto the bus.

Yes, the kids would say that I was struggling as I proceeded to burn the first 4 pancakes — I guess I’m out of practice. But other than a forgotten water bottle, I managed to get everyone fed and out the door on time. Now cleaning up the explosion that is left behind? That’s where I’ll really be struggling. I’m waiting for all those sympathy cards to start flooding my mailbox.

Big Tuna

Right along the beach in the previous post is a small cove where fishermen dock their little wooden fishing boats and sell freshly caught fish to people driving or walking by. Yesterday morning Lucy brought us this beautiful Tuna that she bought from the fisherman the day before.

I was skyping with Wendy at the time so I was able to show it to her live, but I took photos for the rest of you. It was longer than the width of our counter — I’m rough guesstimating that it was 2 – 2 1/2 feet long? 

Hello, beautiful fish! Lucy filleted it like a professional. I asked her where she learned how to do that and she laughed and said they have lots of fish at home in Goa. You are spared from any butchering pictures because I was too busy watching her take the fish apart. I wanted to take pictures of the heart, liver, and stomach to show the boys when they got home, but I thought she might think that was a little strange.

After the meat was separated from the bones Lucy used the bones to make fish stock (which will probably be turned into chowder later) and cut the dark red meat (it would have made beautiful sushi) into large pieces which she seasoned, dipped in flour and pan fried.

Baby girl ate a bunch of it. I have no idea how Lucy got all the bones out. I left the kitchen for a few minutes and missed that part. While the fish was still whole Camille kept gasping in surprise and wanting to get a closer look at it as if it were a cat or a dog. Now I want to take her to the fish sook to see what she thinks of all the fish there. 

awesomely lost in translation

Lucy came back from India bearing gifts, including this shirt that her daughter picked out for me. I love it, even if I’m not exactly sure what it means.
 


“cutie” — yes, I am
“nature” — yes please
“liner” — ??

And is the message that I should try being single? Or are we going for sorority Greek system spelling where “tri” equals 3, as in 3 single flip-flops? Either way, this shirt goes perfectly with my “Happy Birt Hday” mug. I know you’re jealous. 

Chicken every Wednesday

I didn’t have anything in mind for dinner tonight so Lucy suggested I get a chicken and she would cook it in white wine. “It’s very nice, Madame.” Hmm, chicken in white wine sounds very nice. So off I went to the store in search of a chicken, celery, and parsley.

The difficult ingredient to get, the white wine, comes from a small stash that Josh bought from the embassy soon after we arrived. Yes, we can only buy alcohol at the embassy. There are a few unmarked stores around town that sell alcohol (when I say “unmarked” I mean the glass on the windows is covered with brown paper and there is no signage — they look abandoned), but you need a special permit saying you aren’t Muslim to in order to buy alcohol there.

Anyway, back to the chicken. I brought the groceries home to Lucy and she chopped away, cut the whole chicken into pieces like a professional and then worked her magic. She had things browning and simmering and when it was done the whole house smelled like something I wanted to eat. She left the pot on the stove to cool so I could put it in the fridge to heat up for dinner.

Before I put it away I had to try it, you know, to make sure it was good. Then I had to try some more and Camille needed a few bites and before you knew it we were huddled around the pot like a couple of hobos around a campfire. The white wine with the mushrooms and the chopped parsley and onions and celery . . . I think I’m going to have to make this a regular fixture on our menu. It’s a foodie version of heroin. I hope I left enough for everyone else for dinner tonight.

***Josh and I managed to polish off the rest of the Meth Chicken by 4:33. I guess we’ll have to figure out “plan B” for dinner.

Lucy update

Ah, the joy of enjoying a clean house that was cleaned by someone else who is coming back tomorrow to clean it again . . . Lucy, how we’ve missed you!

Lucy came back to work today after flying in from India early Friday morning. I was worried about her because she looks really tired, but after hearing about her time in India I think cleaning for us will be like a vacation in comparison.

She has stories of having to go to the hospital three times a day to bring pumped milk to the baby, but sometimes not being able to get a cab because the water from torrential rains was chest deep in some places. Other times she would spend the entire day watching over the baby in the hospital only to come home and do the cooking and cleaning at night. She said the laundry was awful because of all the rains and the mud (and I don’t know if she even had a washing machine. I’m sure she doesn’t have a dryer).

Her grandson, Lachlan Ulysses, has been home from the hospital for one week and weighs 2 kilos now (4 1/2 lbs). She said once he came home she didn’t sleep at all because she had to watch over him all night to make sure he kept breathing and didn’t pull the tubes out of his nose. She showed us pictures of him and he is beautiful and alert – just miniature in size. She told Josh his head is only the size of an apple, but she is so thankful that he’s doing well enough to start getting his vaccinations soon. It’s an interesting comparison how they need him to hurry up and grow so he can get shots (because disease is so prevalent there), whereas in America we have the luxury of delaying shots or even opting out of certain ones based on a statistical improbability that it might cause harm to our child.

In spite of the hard time she had these past two months, she is praising God for his provision, even pointing out that having to go home for her father’s funeral meant she was there to make the crucial decisions that probably saved her grandson’s life. Her faith is astounding. I know it was a financial hardship because she had to pay 1500 OR to the hospital ($4000) which is about 8 months salary for her (no, I don’t know how she was able to pay it. I know she is working to save for her younger daughter’s wedding, so maybe she took it from that savings?), but she keeps going. It makes my Western faith look fat and out of shape in comparison. I’m praying that my kid stops throwing up so I can go shopping at the mall while she’s praying that her grandbaby survives and that she has enough money to pay the hospital bill.

Right now we’re off having a $30 lunch and typing on $1000 worth of electronics while she’s at home mopping our floors and cleaning the kitchen. I love having Lucy around, but it often makes me feel guilty at how unfair life is. Don’t worry, I don’t need to be told that I shouldn’t feel bad or that we’re helping her by employing her. Sometimes I need to recognize what a privileged life I was born into and feel that queasiness in my stomach that comes from seeing other people who don’t have enough. Like the 750 thousand people in Somalia that they expect to die of starvation over the next four months. How gross is it that I eat such an excess of food that I have to exercise to keep from getting fat? So. Unfair.