Category Archives: India

Joani, My Second Chance

Being stuck together with your family for a year is quite a feat. When I say “stuck” I don’t mean the staying in the same house for 18 years kind of “stuck” (because I already did that). I mean really stuck. For a whole year as we traveled around the world, we shared the same food, slept in the same beds, used the same bathrooms, fought for the same computers, watched the same TV shows, and all suffered the invasion of our private space. But being “stuck” is also what brought my sister closer to me. This trip not only gave me back a sister, but also a friend.

Continue reading Joani, My Second Chance

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Whatever You Did Unto the Least of These Brothers, You Did Unto Me

“I touched poop today,” Olivia announced calmly.

She continued, “Right after the meal, there was an explosion of grandmas who needed to use the toilet. I dragged a chair with a grandma on it back from the bathroom to her bed. When I lifted her on her bed, I noticed there was poop on the chair. I quickly lifted her back on the chair. Her hands also had poop. The grandma besides her was panicking and started to scream. Although I don’t know Hindi or Bengali but I know she said, ‘Poop’.”
Continue reading Whatever You Did Unto the Least of These Brothers, You Did Unto Me

“Fasting” at the Heartbeat of India

“I am actually feeling very discouraged this morning…because none of you guys are here,” Olivia bursted out in tears.

She continued, “Here we are traveling for one year together as a family, but I feel like we each are just doing our own thing. Mom writing her Chinese blog, Dad is on his phone, Joani on her iPad. I feel like none of you exist. Or I don’t exist…”

Olivia got our attention. Continue reading “Fasting” at the Heartbeat of India

“Mr. Mom”

As I woke up from my sleepless night of sweating and rolling around in the bed, “Mr. Mom” burst through the door. His hands were full with two bottles of cold water, a kilo of tomatoes, and a kilo of oranges.” Mr. Mom” was a term my dad created for himself since he provided everything for the family like a mom. I think I’m slowly starting to like my dad as “Mr. Mom”. Continue reading “Mr. Mom”