Read Online Children of Dreams, An Adoption Memoir by Lorilyn Roberts - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lorilyn Roberts
Ads: Link
of her short, oily hair. When I later washed all the oil out, I was surprised that her hair was curly and thick. The substance her father kept lathering on her head prevented little critters from taking up residence. I later discovered lice. I relentlessly searched for the disgusting creatures on my new daughter’s head while she squirmed impatiently—and was convinced the miniature, prehistoric-looking monsters were also on mine.
I couldn’t wait to remove the nose ring and earrings. I had already come up with a plan for that. The red dot on the middle of her forehead also had to go.
I began to teach Manisha English and she made her first childish attempts to mimic the sounds I made—the word for lion, the word for flower, the word for cookie, the word for dirty, but her favorite word was “meow.” Any cat we saw required at least a 30 second examination, maybe longer. She taught me the word “bani,” which means rice, and Ankit made sure I knew the Nepali word for bathroom, which was Achi ayo.
We walked around for about an hour and a half, long enough to tire me out. Twenty-three pounds gets heavy after a while. As we headed back to the hotel, I heard another language being spoken that surprised me. A group of young people were talking in Hebrew. I turned around and asked if they were from Israel.
“Yes,” they said. “We are on holiday.” They described Nepal as a popular tourist spot for Israelis. Having studied Hebrew, I felt like I had met some new friends.
Upon arriving back at the Bleu, Ankit called about plans for the next day, “Don’t worry about food, we’ll stop and get something to eat.”
That sounded good to me, or so I thought.
Chapter Eleven
…God has brought me laughter
Genesis 21:6
The next morning at 5:30 a.m. we were ready to go but Manisha and her father were not in the lobby. Ankit walked over and banged on their door to wake them up.
Shortly thereafter we took off in the van. The trip seemed to go faster this time, maybe because we had made it two days earlier. We drove for several hours and finally stopped.
“Let’s eat here,” Ankit said.
The building was dirty and dilapidated. Someone was out front cooking on the ground in a large steamy pot.
“The bathroom is downstairs,” I was told as we entered inside the restaurant. I found the stairs and cautiously walked down. There were farm animals and chickens all over the place. The aroma smelled like a well mixed concoction of manure and rice, with a little chicken seasoning thrown in. As I landed on the last step I looked straight ahead and realized there was no back to the building. If someone wasn’t paying attention, they would walk off and fall into the river below. I wondered if Nepalis had ever heard of building codes.
I walked a few feet away from the stairs being careful not to step on any animals or something worse. There was a little room off to the right side. Is that the bathroom, I thought to myself? There was a bowl that appeared to contain water with chickens sitting all around it. Was that the toilet?
Maybe I was supposed to hang off the back of the building and sort of squat and hope to hit the river below. I didn’t want to shoo the chickens away. I felt like asking, “Excuse me, chickens, could you please show me the bathroom or are you sitting on it? I don’t want to ask the guys upstairs because they think I am a soft American girl.”
I got nowhere with that idea. I decided to go back upstairs and just keep this little situation to myself. Bushes were preferable to fighting with chickens over their toilet.
By this time everybody had been served and was enjoying their meal. Whatever they were eating, it was very soupy. The “restaurant” was quite full and except for Ankit, everybody was eating with their hands. I looked at Manisha sitting with her father. They were also eating with their hands. I was totally disgusted and wondered if I would ever be able to westernize
I couldn’t wait to remove the nose ring and earrings. I had already come up with a plan for that. The red dot on the middle of her forehead also had to go.
I began to teach Manisha English and she made her first childish attempts to mimic the sounds I made—the word for lion, the word for flower, the word for cookie, the word for dirty, but her favorite word was “meow.” Any cat we saw required at least a 30 second examination, maybe longer. She taught me the word “bani,” which means rice, and Ankit made sure I knew the Nepali word for bathroom, which was Achi ayo.
We walked around for about an hour and a half, long enough to tire me out. Twenty-three pounds gets heavy after a while. As we headed back to the hotel, I heard another language being spoken that surprised me. A group of young people were talking in Hebrew. I turned around and asked if they were from Israel.
“Yes,” they said. “We are on holiday.” They described Nepal as a popular tourist spot for Israelis. Having studied Hebrew, I felt like I had met some new friends.
Upon arriving back at the Bleu, Ankit called about plans for the next day, “Don’t worry about food, we’ll stop and get something to eat.”
That sounded good to me, or so I thought.
Chapter Eleven
…God has brought me laughter
Genesis 21:6
The next morning at 5:30 a.m. we were ready to go but Manisha and her father were not in the lobby. Ankit walked over and banged on their door to wake them up.
Shortly thereafter we took off in the van. The trip seemed to go faster this time, maybe because we had made it two days earlier. We drove for several hours and finally stopped.
“Let’s eat here,” Ankit said.
The building was dirty and dilapidated. Someone was out front cooking on the ground in a large steamy pot.
“The bathroom is downstairs,” I was told as we entered inside the restaurant. I found the stairs and cautiously walked down. There were farm animals and chickens all over the place. The aroma smelled like a well mixed concoction of manure and rice, with a little chicken seasoning thrown in. As I landed on the last step I looked straight ahead and realized there was no back to the building. If someone wasn’t paying attention, they would walk off and fall into the river below. I wondered if Nepalis had ever heard of building codes.
I walked a few feet away from the stairs being careful not to step on any animals or something worse. There was a little room off to the right side. Is that the bathroom, I thought to myself? There was a bowl that appeared to contain water with chickens sitting all around it. Was that the toilet?
Maybe I was supposed to hang off the back of the building and sort of squat and hope to hit the river below. I didn’t want to shoo the chickens away. I felt like asking, “Excuse me, chickens, could you please show me the bathroom or are you sitting on it? I don’t want to ask the guys upstairs because they think I am a soft American girl.”
I got nowhere with that idea. I decided to go back upstairs and just keep this little situation to myself. Bushes were preferable to fighting with chickens over their toilet.
By this time everybody had been served and was enjoying their meal. Whatever they were eating, it was very soupy. The “restaurant” was quite full and except for Ankit, everybody was eating with their hands. I looked at Manisha sitting with her father. They were also eating with their hands. I was totally disgusted and wondered if I would ever be able to westernize
Similar Books
