The boys are back in town :: by mama

We are back! It took the cooperation of three countries, with three predominant religions and all of their corresponding holidays, to get Kiran on the plane: he received his Thai birth certificate first, then an English translation (helpfully informing us that he was born on the first day of the waxing moon, in the second month of the year of the tiger). About two weeks later, he was issued an American passport and a Consular Report of Birth Abroad, basically the equivalent of an American birth certificate. A couple of days later, he got his visa to enter Bangladesh, and we were finally able to return home. It is amazing to me to think about the number of people who worked first to bring Kiran into the world, and then to help us get back home, and how people of different nationalities and backgrounds were interconnected in their efforts, all for a person who very recently fit inside my belly.

After nearly two months in Bangkok, it was a bit of a shock to return to Dhaka. All of the guidebooks talk about Bangkok being chaotic and crowded, with horrible traffic, but it was an oasis of calm compared to Dhaka. It has its negative points, to be sure, but I loved the combination of ancient history and driving modernity, of shrines to guardian spirits in front of sparkling shopping malls, of the Grand Palace and Starbucks. (Some of us may have loved Starbucks more than the Grand Palace; I'll leave it up to you to guess who those people may be.) The culture is fascinating. The people are lovely, polite and accomodating, and it was a bit of a relief to be in a place where Westerners are no longer a novelty and are therefore not worth staring at. As happy as I was to be coming home and reuniting our family, I was a bit sad to leave Bangkok.

:: Old and new: the view from the top of Wat Arun

:: Our apartment building's shrine to the guardian spirit. Pretty much every building has its own shrine, with offerings laid out daily.

:: A favorite spot

And now. Dhaka is unseasonably cold: I checked weather.com the other day, and it said the temperature was 57 degrees F. At noon. That may not sound cold, but keep in mind that we do not have heaters indoors, so the outside temperature is also the inside temperature. Add to that the fact that we do not have hot water -- something to do with a national shortage of gas, we're told, which will not be resolved until the weather warms up, at which point nobody will want the hot water anymore -- and it is hard to stay warm. I have been wearing leggings under my pants, wool socks and slippers, and multiple layers on top. Chris and Kaya, who normally sport a matching father-son wardrobe of shorts and no shirt, have been wearing sweaters and long sleeves. Even Kiran is bundled up.

Strangely enough, these chilly, dry winter months are also the height of mosquito season here in Dhaka. We have mosquito nets for the car seat, the crib, and our beds, and Kiran somehow still has a couple of bites. I have a ring of mosquito bites around my belly, where the skin is exposed while I'm nursing. Lovely. On the bright side, Chris and Kaya can entertain themselves with the moquito racket, a tennis racket-shaped device that kills the "mossies" (new vocabulary courtesy of our Aussie neighbors) on contact via a noisy and satisfying electric shock.

Now that we are back, I hope to get back into a routine of regular weekly posts. Surely I can make time for that... maybe in the middle of the night.