Slumdog Millionaire

If a good movie is what you've been waiting for, give Slumdog Millionaire a look see. We spent the extra money because it was in the VIP section of the theater, the section where only adults are welcome, where they sell alcoholic beverages, and where everything is supposed to be roomier and more comfortable which is all a bunch of silliness, but...the movie was well worth the extra price and my frugal friend stopped grumbling soon after the movie started. Prepare yourself to be overtaken by emotions as varied as joy, pity, happiness, anger, revulsion, surprise, and an exhilarating conclusion rarely seen in movies anymore. It is an indian movie and there are scenes where I had to look the other way, but because it ended just the way I wanted, I came out feeling good. I also count my blessings that I don't live in Mumbai, never lived in Mumbai and don't ever want to live in Mumbai or even visit. I can't imagine being constantly surrounded by so many people.

No dual citizenship

I have thought for a long time that dual citizenship should be done away with. I thought at one time it was not allowed, but maybe I'm wrong. It sure seems like a person needs to give their allegiance to just one country. Be proud of your roots, but be prouder of the country in which you live.

Speaking of countries...while you read the following article, listen to this young man in Spain play one of my favorite songs, Gabriel's Oboe.



http://www.iht.com/articles/2008/12/29/europe/politicus.php

POLITICUS
From the left, a call to end the current Dutch notion of tolerance
By John Vinocur

AMSTERDAM: Two years ago, the Dutch could quietly congratulate themselves on having brought what seemed to be a fair measure of consensus and reason to the meanest intersection in their national political life: the one where integration of Muslim immigrants crossed Dutch identity.
In the run-up to choosing a new government in 2006, just 24 percent of the voters considered the issue important, and only 4 percent regarded it as the election's central theme.
What a turnabout, it seemed - and whatever the reason (spent passions, optimism, resignation?), it was a soothing respite for a country whose history of tolerance was the first in 21st-century Europe to clash with the on-street realities of its growing Muslim population.
Since the Sept. 11, 2001, attacks in the United States, the Netherlands had lived through something akin to a populist revolt against accommodating Islamic immigrants led by Pim Fortuyn, who was later murdered; the assassination of the filmmaker Theo Van Gogh, accused of blasphemy by a homegrown Muslim killer; and the bitter departure from the Netherlands of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, a Somali woman who became a member of Parliament before being marked for death for her criticism of radical Islam.
Now something fairly remarkable is happening again.
Two weeks ago, the country's biggest left-wing political grouping, the Labor Party, which has responsibility for integration as a member of the coalition government led by the Christian Democrats, issued a position paper calling for the end of the failed model of Dutch "tolerance."
It came at the same time Nicolas Sarkozy was making a case in France for greater opportunities for minorities that also contained an admission that the French notion of equality "doesn't work anymore."
But there was a difference. If judged on the standard scale of caution in dealing with cultural clashes and Muslims' obligations to their new homes in Europe, the language of the Dutch position paper and Lilianne Ploumen, Labor's chairperson, was exceptional.
The paper said: "The mistake we can never repeat is stifling criticism of cultures and religions for reasons of tolerance."
Government and politicians had too long failed to acknowledge the feelings of "loss and estrangement" felt by Dutch society facing parallel communities that disregard its language, laws and customs.
Newcomers, according to Ploumen, must avoid "self-designated victimization."
She asserted, "the grip of the homeland has to disappear" for these immigrants who, news reports indicate, also retain their original nationality at a rate of about 80 percent once becoming Dutch citizens.
Instead of reflexively offering tolerance with the expectation that things would work out in the long run, she said, the government strategy should be "bringing our values into confrontation with people who think otherwise."
There was more: punishment for trouble-making young people has to become so effective such that when they emerge from jail they are not automatically big shots, Ploumen said.
For Ploumen, talking to the local media, "The street is mine, too. I don't want to walk away if they're standing in my path.
"Without a strategy to deal with these issues, all discussion about creating opportunities and acceptance of diversity will be blocked by suspicion and negative experience."
And that comes from the heart of the traditional, democratic European left, where placing the onus of compatibility on immigrants never found such comfort before.
It's a point of view that makes reference to work and education as essential, but without the emphasis that they are the single path to integration.
Rather, Labor's line seems to stand on its head the old equation of jobs-plus-education equals integration. Conforming to Dutch society's social standards now comes first. Strikingly, it turns its back on cultural relativism and uses the word emancipation in discussing the process of outsiders' becoming Dutch.
For the Netherlands' Arab and Turkish population (about 6 percent of a total of 16 million) it refers to jobs and educational opportunities as "machines of emancipation." Yet it also suggests that employment and advancement will not come in full measure until there is a consciousness engagement in Dutch life by immigrants that goes far beyond the present level.
Indeed, Ploumen says, "Integration calls on the greatest effort from the new Dutch. Let go of where you come from; choose the Netherlands unconditionally." Immigrants must "take responsibility for this country" and cherish and protect its Dutch essence.
Not clear enough? Ploumen insists, "The success of the integration process is hindered by the disproportionate number of non-natives involved in criminality and trouble-making, by men who refuse to shake hands with women, by burqas and separate courses for women on citizenship.
"We have to stop the existence of parallel societies within our society."
And the obligations of the native Dutch? Ploumen's answer is, "People who have their roots here have to offer space to traditions, religions and cultures which are new to Dutch society" - but without fear of expressing criticism. "Hurting feelings is allowed, and criticism of religion, too."
The why of this happening now when a recession could accelerate new social tensions, particularly among nonskilled workers, has a couple of explanations.
A petty, political one: It involves a Labor Party on an uptick, with its the party chief, Wouter Bos, who serves as finance minister, showing optimism that the Dutch can avoid a deep recession. The cynical take has him casting the party's new integration policy as a fresh bid to consolidate momentum ahead of elections for the European Parliament in June.
A kinder, gentler explanation (that comes, remarkably, from Frits Bolkestein, the former Liberal Party leader, European commissioner, and no friend of the socialists, who began writing in 1991 about the enormous challenge posed to Europe by Muslim immigration):
"The multi-cultis just aren't making the running anymore. It's a brave step towards a new normalcy in this country. "

Blogging at 80

I read a story in the Seattle Times today about an octogenarian blogger. She lives in Yakima, Washington and the name of her site is Pet Peeves and Other Ramblings . It's a must read if you want a good laugh. What really caught my eye was the picture of the Christmas tree with the cat peeking out, looking very much like an ornament. Can you find the cat?

Hazmat

This delightful couple was with us on
Christmas day, though they weren't dressed in hazmat suits. They are my son's mother and father in law and this picture was taken a while back when flu season was in full force. They hadn't wanted to visit while the younguns were contagious so when the coast was finally clear, they donned their uniforms, came for a visit and gave everyone a really good laugh. I would have loved to have seen the look on the 4 years old's face when she opened the front door and saw a gas mask staring down at her. I must say, she spent many hours playing with the homemade nurse's hat.

Someday I'll tell you the story about him chasing his airplane.

Let's Sing

What a nice Christmas we all had yesterday. Lots of family, lots of food and what I think were the makings of a few rock stars.
Uncle Nick bought his two nieces their very own karaoke machine and once they learn how to read, that house is gonna rock !!! Even we grown ups enjoyed it, when we were able to get the microphones away from the kids. Oh.....and.....mom and dad..... in case you can't find the mics, they are probably in the childproof drawer to the left of the stove....second one down :o)

Merry Christmas

I wish you all a blessed Christmas and new year filled with peace and joy.

If you're the chef today and would like to try a really good green bean recipe for your dinner, give this a try...

Brown ten slices of bacon..sliced small...

drain the grease, then add a half cup of finely chopped onion...cook til transparent....add a cup or more of sour cream and mix well...then add a couple good shakes of flour...a squirt of lemon juice....a tad bit of salt and quite a bit more pepper...mix well then add 6 to 8 cans of drained julienne sliced beans. ..mix well then pour into a baking dish....level it off and top with cheddar cheese....bake covered at 350 for a half hour. It is absolutely delicious and goes really well with prime rib or turkey.

Another fantastic dish is the wonderful slav sauerkraut that I learned to make from sister in law's hubby.........

Start by rinsing well one quart jar of sauerkraut...add it to the pound of sausages that you have drained after browning in the oven or stovetop.....add a half cup finely chopped onion.... 2 cloves of garlic or enough garlic pwd to equal that......1 tablespoon brown sugar.....1/2 teaspoon cinnamon.....1/4 teaspoon pepper....and a half of a pared apple. Mix together, add a little water...cover and cook slowly in the oven or cover and simmer 3 hours on the stove top. I guarantee you will love this dish and it too is fantastic with meats. Salud !!!!

It's raining !!!!

At last...the rains have come and we are returning to normal Washington weather. YES!!!

Remnant sewing

Because of the stubborn weather system that just keeps on keepin on, it's snowing again this morning, I dug through my fabric stash and found enough of the white and blue to make a new top and pants for little Ingrid. Who knows if it will fit her, but it was kinda fun getting out the serger again. Ingrid's daddy bought it for me years ago with some of his fishing money. He had heard the teacher he'd had when in the 4th grade talking after church about the new serger her hubby had bought for her. He came home and asked me about it, and don't ya know, that is what he bought me for Christmas. To this day, it's the nicest gift I have ever recieved and it's certainly had plenty of use.

Okay back to the snow, this is a great song if being cooped up for days is getting to you :o) If it weren't for youtube, I would have never known anything about flute choirs or that they can get along just fine without any violins or violas. Sorry sis :o)

Out the window

This is what I saw yesterday from my kitchen counter. Somebody did some serious pillow shaking during the night and with that, dawn broke with some dandy photo opportunities. I managed to get to the store, thanks to the kids and their 4 wheel drives and joined the rest of the deranged mob trying to get as much as we could remember for the coming days. As we started to back out of our parking spot, two young women, one carrying a baby, were struggling with a shopping cart so full, that they weren't able to roll it over the icy ruts. In a blink, son and the fellow in the car next to ours rushed over, carried the many bags to their car, pushed the cart back and they were on their way, mighty thankful that kindness still rules. Today I will go again for meds for my friend who is totally trapped at the top of his ski chute driveway. It's hell to get old and worry about running out of our drugs, though we are all so thankful that we are warm and safe at home and not stranded at the airport or Greyhound bus depot, wondering if we will ever get home for Christmas. This will be a Christmas many will never forget.

A Room For Two

Yesterday was spent in the snow and today will no doubt be more of the same. My two little granddaughters were quite pleased with the igloo their daddy built for them from all the snow that fell most of the day and most of last night turning things into a winter wonderland. I haven't been shopping for days, still need to buy gifts and food for Christmas morning and dinner and after taking a toilet paper inventory, it's gonna have to be soon. The boys have checked to see if I need to get to the store and today, I think I will take them up on it.

Hallelujah!!! Thank God for the internet and youtube as I have found some new favorites. Give this version a try too. Heck, try this one too.

Happy Winter Solstice

Today is my ultimate, best, favorite, most wonderful day of the year !!! Winter Solstice.. the rebirth of the sun.....at 4:04 am we reached the shortest day of the year and from that moment, the days will begin to lengthen. YES!!!! I think I must have been a druid in a past life since I do have irish roots and love all the traditions that the many cultures did down through the years to celebrate this day. Whatever it is..I love this day. I had planned to light a bonfire and share a drink with my friend in his backyard, but since we are all snowed in, I will just have to settle for a toddy by myself and hope that the snow melts soon. Happy Winter Solstice !!

Green Tree

This Christmas tree is green in more ways than one. It's a great way to recycle and it gives you good reason for enjoying your beer throughout the year with the excuse that you're working on Christmas decorations.

Somethng tells me there are no small children living in the home nor will there be any young grandchildren visiting during the holidays. I also doubt they live in an earthquake zone.

Global Warming, NOT !!

I think most of us are down right sick of the cold. The streets are impossibly impassable, Christmas shopping isn't finished yet, and school, parties and meetings have been canceled day after day. Furnaces are guzzling gallons of oil, though I was tickled to hear that the price per gallon has slipped to $38.00 per barrel.

I remember the deep freeze we had in 1950 when the bay froze and people were actually able to iceskate. I also remember what fun it was going to school on Saturday's to make up the days lost when buses and trucks weren't allowed on the roads while the thaw took place. To top it off, our teacher let us listen to our favorite Saturday morning radio show, Let's Pretend.

Today, kids would have to go to school halfway through the summer.

It seems the highlight of my day lately is what should I eat !!! Last night it was chicken thighs cooked slowly, then topped with Hunt's 4 cheese spaghetti sauce, and spooned gently over long spaghetti, topped with parmesan cheese. Today and tomorrow that will be dinner, plus whatever sweets I can create. I figure at least a ten pound gain by the time this miserable weather system passes :o)

Fun Video

Here's a fun video of the Mystic Lady fishing in southeast Alaska. It is a Gig Harbor boat as you can tell from the lighthouse at the beginning of the video. The gal who did the video is from West Virginia. She decided a few years ago that she would like to come west and try commercial fishing. Her job search started in Seattle at fisherman's wharf where she landed a job right away and has been fishing since, from Alaska to California, for salmon and squid. Two of her brothers have also come west and are now fishing too. Once it gets in your blood, you are definately hooked. While in California, she also did this one of squid fishing.

Parade

I think this may have been a fourth of July parade along Harborview in the early 1960's. It is fun to see the old city dock still standing and of course the Genius and Avalon tied together in their usual place. I have always thought it a shame that the city didn't replace the old dock, only bigger and wider, so that trucks could drive out and turn around, making it so much easier to load and unload boats. That is the one thing the harbor really lacks.

Pen High Cheerleaders

These were the Peninsula High School cheerleaders in probably 1965. I have no idea why they were wearing those strange hats, but they do look kinda cute. The one in the center is my little sister and I spose I could ask her why the hats.

Boat Parade

Last night was the annual Christmas boat parade sponsored by the Gig Harbor Yacht Club and as usual, our favorite was my nephew's boat. He always does the green tree and outlines the rest of the boat in white lights. I have seen many a publication with his boat on the cover or inside in an advertisement because it's really a beautiful sight to behold as it cruises through the harbor in the dark, and luckily, last night the bay was as smooth as glass which made it even more stunning. Thanks Tim.

Huge Hair

Okay, I know the quality of the picture isn't good, but I just had to show off the woman's hair. We are talking ENORMOUS !!!! My friend and I were in the Honolulu airport this year waiting for our flight to Maui when this woman came walking along with what looked like her son and granddaughter, turning every head in the building as she strolled past. I, of course, wasn't going to be satisfied until I filmed her with my trusty video camera and I wasn't the only one sneaking pictures. It would have been fun to film the looks on people's faces as their eyes first noticed her and then the stolen glances and giggles after, from all ages. That hair really helped us pass the time.

Salmon Bay Cafe

My granddaugher spent the day with her other grandparents at the Norwegian Festival in Ballard the other day. That girl is a true american with her scandinavian, irish, english, scottish, croatian and german, to name a few, roots. I got a kick out of the picture on the menu. Even though the cafe is in Ballard, the picture is of Gig Harbor. I doubt there is a place more beautiful in the world.

Join the Symphony

Now's your chance to play in Carnegy Hall. Practice, practice, practice, record yourself, then send it into Youtube, and see if you can win a spot in the Youtube Symphony. The music for each instrument is ready to print, there's an orchestra playing the song, and a conductor to follow so all you have to do is play along til you have it down pat. How cool is that. Whether you decide to give it a try or not, it's fun to play along and improve your skills. I found the free music to Partita online and try to keep up with her. I would think that a beginning student would enjoy practice a whole lot more then we did as kids thanks to all the online help.

Happy Birthday Sis

Today is my little sister's 62nd birthday and in one month, she will be collecting Social Security. How nice is that !!! This picture of her was taken in 1952, in Whitehorse, Canada. We were on one of our merry little drives to Alaska and always loved stopping at Whitehorse. The cemetary was one of the things that fascinated us because of the way natives buried their dead, plus the old sternwheelers that were hauled out of the Yukon River onto shore for the winter. Mom took this picture of the Aksala in 1952. I think the Klondike is the only one that has survived because most were destroyed by fire. This site has oodles of great pictures.

Beach Road

If you find the telephone pole on the right side of the picture, you will see behind it, the beachroad that used to run from Purdy to Rosedale, with an old wood bridge crossing over McCormick Creek. Both are gone now, but I still remember waiting for the school bus in front of my grandparent's house. Our destination was the little two room school in Rosedale which had grades 1 to 4 and no public kindergarten then. The school is gone now too, and in it's place, a beautiful play field.

Thompson Pass

The last time I saw Thompson Pass, it looked like this. It was the month of March and we were headed back to the lower 48. It was a clear day, but the winds were howling and no sooner did we get halfway up the pass, we got stuck. The lord must have been looking out for us that day because the plow made one last run, found us, got us unstuck and we were on our way.

The rest of the trip home was much easier than the trips we made in June over the slippery gumbo, or trying to stay on top of the ruts left by huge trucks and most of all the wading through washed out roads while mom drove the car. In the winter, the roads were frozen solid and so cold that tires almost stuck to the road.

Mom drove the Alcan starting in 1952 with just us kids and our dog, Lassie. Our meals consisted of canned soup, right out of the can, peaches right out of the can and lots of mosquito bites on our behinds because there were no roadside stops. I wouldn't trade those memories for all the treasures in the world, but I don't know how mom had the guts to do it with 3 kids and a dog.

Maybe because dad had no doubt she could.

Concert Is Over

Our concert is over, it was a success, and now comes the mourning period, having to say goodbye to our music and be away from a wonderful bunch of people for a whole month.
When we begin practicing new music, we look at it feeling we will never be able to play it. After a few weeks, there's hope, and by the night of the concert our confidence is back.
I was amazed at how many were able to sing along with the Messiah..especially the beautiful voices of the men in the audience. I have to admit that I had only heard the Halleluja ....the rest was new to me. Thanks to one of our violin players who taught at UPS, there were songbooks to borrow for the evening. I was also amazed at how many children were able to sit through the 45 minutes of the Messiah.....we didn't do all of it ~!!! Their reward was lots of your every day Christmas music that everyone was invited to sing along with.Of course being a flute player, Sleigh Ride was my favorite.
It was a fun evening, and we are all looking forward to our next concert in March where we will feature "march" music.....ya get it...marches in March !!!!!

Concert Dec. 6th

Just a reminder of the Gig Harbor Peninsula Civic Orchestra concert coming up on Dec. 6th, 7:00 pm at Peninsula High School. It's free.....we welcome donations. This year we are playing parts of the Messiah, plus other fun Christmas music and invite the community to bring your songbooks and sing along.

Mambai attack

A young american woman named Dara, wrote her story and posted it on her Facebook site.


Thanks to all of those who wrote me notes and posted on my wall. I just wanted to take a moment to pay respects to those who lost their lives to save us. I am praying for the hotel staff, police, and other reinforcements that were brought into Mumbai that deadly night that should have never occurred.The horrific acts that happened in Mumbai was a life altering experience for me and something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. Around 9:40 pm I went to the night market with my friend John. As the store were closing we were excited to take a drink in the famous cafe, Leopolds- A small cafe that opens up completely to the street. After finishing a tall glass of watermelon juice there was a huge boom that hit an aquarium in the back of the room.Everyone turned around simply think 'what was that?' but not expecting anything serious. The next thing I knew consecutive shots rang non-stop across the room. John threw me to the floor screaming "GET DOWN!" My purse was in the seat next to me, but I didn't even think for a second about it. I was bent over trying to run out. John pushed me to the floor again. I believed he saved my life. I still don't understand how I made it out when I later read there were two gunmen walking in with large guns. There was glass in my hands, the skin on my knees were rubbed off from hitting the floor- yet I couldn't feel the pain. My heart and adrenaline were so high I was just thinking "this IS NOT really happening to me". I never thought in a million years that I would ever be involved in a situation such as the ones I had read in the news. All I remember that night is running as fast as I could because I was convinced they would bomb the café. As I picked myself up off the glass shards on the floor I bolted down the road, my left hand dripping in blood. My shoes fell off, but I didn’t care, I just kept running. John was right behind me, as he got closer he took my hand and said ‘Don’t ever let go of my hand’. I remember my way back to the hotel we had checked in at 9 hours before- The Taj Palace. It was only 3-4 minutes before we got to the hotel. John stopped and said “No! the Taj will be a target for sure!” but there we were, his pants splattered with someone else’s blood, my hand dripping in my own. We had no other place to go. We didn’t know the city yet, and we needed help. For it felt like the most secure place since we only had half a second to make a move.I walked through a line of cab drivers who stood there in confusion on the bullets they had heard just down the streets. All the doormen and guests turned to stare at john and I who came storming in with blood on our hands. The guests dressed in the fine evening wear stood at the glass lobby entrance, staring out in curiosity about the gun shots. They sounded like a string of fireworks going off. They were shocked when they saw us pace in. The Taj staff was continuously wonderful. The minute I entered the lobby, a man sat quickly took us to the couches in the lobby, sat me down and had someone run to grab a towel. As soon he came back to wipe my leg, the all too familiar sound of gun shots came back into the lobby. I was so terrified I never even turned around to look at them, but was later told that they were men dressed in black with large guns shooting everyone in site. All I knew is that as soon as I heard those shots again I dove for the closed double doors on my right side. The men who were helping me did too. It was just an instinct we all just ran as fast as we could to the doors- I didn’t even know where they led to. This all happened in literally seconds. It was a restaurant. There were still guests dining at the table with looks of confusion. We dashed through the restaurant looking for any door to run through-quite certain that somebody would follow us. We ran straight into the Kitchen. Stopped at the dead end. There was one exit door in the back that somebody had locked. I didn’t have time for tears. I was set on survival.The hotel staff was amazing!-especially one man in particular named Javed. He told everyone to stay calm, we were safe, the doors were locked. We didn’t believe him. We knew they had guns and could burst in at any moment if they wanted to. There was an Indian girl next to me who was crying hysterically because she had separated from her friend and mother in the lobby. There was a Muslim women on the floor praying for her life. John and I, both Christian, knelt down beside her and repeated the Lord’s prayer over and over again. The Hindu women with us were also praying. There in the kitchen three separate religions prayed for the same thing. Asking God to spare our lives. Although the room was filled with chefs, hotel staff, guests of different nationalities, different social classes, different religious backgrounds- absolutely NOTHING separated us that night. We were all the same. We were all holding one and others arms saying “it is going to be okay, the police will be here soon.” The hotel staff was on the phone calling for reinforcement. Meanwhile, Javed came back with a first aid kit and continued to dress John and mine’s wounds. As he was cleaning them the hotel staff came back to tell us that it would be safer if we came back into the restaurant because they had blocked the doors. We were scared if it was safe or not, but proceeded to the restaurant because we did not want to be in the kitchen alone. There was a large grand piano pushed against the doors and furniture piled up on top of it.The rest of the story is written by John:....30 others were already in there, and after our entry, they barricaded the doors with a grand piano. What followed, for us, was eight hours of entrapment, while guns, bombs and most terrifyingly an ever louder fire raged outside.I am amazed at how lucid we were throughout the ordeal. Our bodies provide us with incredible clarity in a crisis. I kept thinking of Winston Churchill’s quote, “When you’re going through hell… keep going”. Still, we were terrified. Stupidly, I persuaded Dara not to call her parents. Thinking of my own mother, I thought she might have a heart attack if she knew what was happening. I wish I hadn’t done this. Everyone else was on their cell phone.The people in our room made the scene feel like a movie set: covered Islamic women, a hard focused German businessman, a tender hearted French, obnoxious hipsters, lithe and immaculately dressed blonde Russian girls, Indians, Muslims, Christians. Everyone of all religions were praying together that night on the floor of that restaurant.Our first evacuation attempt, around 3 or 4 am, ended in more gunfire, and the few who had ventured out of the room, raced back in. Miraculously, we were evacuated around 7am.It wasn’t until I learned the news of what had happened, until I digested my own relief that I began to cry. I read about the deaths of the chief of police, the chief of counter-terrorism, the burned wife and children of the hotel manager, and I began to weep. I thought of the incredible and admirable bravery, presence and commitment of the Taj staff. And I thought of all these people, big and small, that had given so much to save us. I still cry when I think of it.The journey home to was another adventure. We didn’t know if it the attack was a one off event or the start of war, and we hurried to exit the country. Terrified, we waited 25 minutes to be let into the US embassy, while they checked their computers for our records. Even though we had called three times to report we were coming and they had our names. It would have been a good tip for them to actually pre-print the identification of all of the Americans who had called in to state their names. As cars drove by the street in front of the embassy, I felt like I was sitting on top of a bull’s eye. The guards did not speak English. The reception was staffed by an Indian, who would not come to the gate. We crouched behind a concrete piling, and I scanned the horizon for potential terrorists. When we were finally let in, an Indian woman told me I would need to pay $200 to get an emergency passport. How did they know if we even had money? Dara lost her money, credit cards and even shoes in the attack at Leopold’s. Luckily I had one credit card in my pocket.Despite having only one other couple in their office, we waited two and a half hours for emergency passports. We were hoping to leave before sunset. We appreciated the fact that the embassy was working around the clock, and they explained that we waited almost three hours because they were busy answering the phones, but I felt that they were more helpful on the phone telling us to “stay calm” then actually helping us in person when we actually really needed it.Before we arrived to the US embassy, the Taj staff at the evacuation center had taken photos on a digital camera and printed six passport sized photos for us. The embassy said the photos were not acceptable – they were not professionally taken. They told me that because they had no camera man, and I would need to go back into Mumbai to find a photo center. Everything in the city was closed. I was flabbergasted. The British embassy had sent emissaries to the evacuation center, the Spanish had arranged military transport for evacuation, and here, wearing ripped and bloody clothes, the US embassy was telling me I couldn’t have an emergency passport because the quality of my photographs were not professionally taken. We screamed at them, and they acquiesced. I was further surprised to lean that we had to obtain a new visa from the Indian government to leave the country. The only place to obtain this was the South Mumbai police headquarters, which had also been attacked. The US embassy tried and failed to waive this rule. We had to go.Remarkably, heroically, the driver the Taj hotel had provided us, Jabraj, had patiently waited for us during the 2+ hour delay at the US embassy. The embassy was kind enough to lend us one of our staff to help us find the Indian visa office, and so an extremely brave Indian woman nicknamed ‘Nicky’ went along. As we drove back into Colaba, the streets filled with police and army personnel. We found the visa office, and pulled in, but had to back up the car, as they were hauling out a dead body. When we got into the police station, it was amazing how quick the Indians acting in getting our paper work done in less than five minutes!Eventually we made it out of the country. I have seen in the press criticism of the hotel, of the Indian government and of their police, but I cannot sing their praises loudly enough. Their courage is inspiring. We mourn the horrendous loss of life. For those of us who survived, how will we ever repay this debt?I am praying for guidance on what to do now, on how I can help. I am praying for the families of the deceased, and I am praying for the leaders of India. Violence cannot be defeated with violence, and an eye for an eye will make the whole world blind.If anyone has any information on how we can help India please contact me and others around the world to pitch in. Additionally, I hope that this news will allow our government gain insight from the situation- even if it is as simple as having a Polaroid camera on site or training techniques to better prepare US embassies around the world for the future.

Service Station

This picture was also taken in old Valdez. I can't remember where it was located, but I do see a church in the distance which might help.