Norris Family News

Lost in Translation...

Apparently it is traditional to eat tamales and pozole at Christmas time in Hispanic communities. We took many dozen tamales to Agua Viva men’s rehab to eat with them at their Christmas party on Christmas eve eve (that’s the evening before Christmas eve), so for our own Christmas at home we made pozole. I had this simple stew at my work Christmas party, and was eager to try my hand at it. It has meat and hominy in a nice broth, and you can eat it with shredded cabbage, radishes, onions, cilantro etc. rolled in a tortilla or out of a bowl. I found a recipe on the internet which looked authentic due to the picture of a little abuelita (grandma).

I thought I could understand the Spanish recipe fine, but to make sure I accepted the service of an automatic translator. The results were rather breathtaking. The top of the page reassured me in my native language “You Prescribe Pozole.” (The word for prescription and recipe are the same in Spanish.) The first ingredient was described as chicken “itched in pieces,” and the broth was mostly “cold water rooms in barracks.” At one point, I was instructed to “tape partially” the cooking ingredients. The crowning blow was the last set of instructions, and I quote, ”Carefully it removes to the chicken and the pig and lets cool. When they are the sufficiently cold thing, it clears pellejo, it bones the chicken and later in crumbles the chicken and the pig using two possesors.” I don’t think this automatic translator can be recommended as very  sensitive to Spanish grammar or phraseology. It is interesting that it translates “tenedor” as “possessor”…”tener” is the verb for “to have,” and I’m sure that’s the source of this poetic term for the common fork. Anyway, the pozole turned out fine in spite of the language barrier.

--Erika

Invasion of the Hydrophilic Animals and a Carnival of Errors

There are these really neat plastic animals which expand to 600% of their original size when soaked in water. They are only a dollar, look very charming and life-like, and are difficult to resist. Three of them came home with us the other day….a sting ray, an octopus, and a sea turtle. With great expectation, they were placed in the tub, and noted to grow a little by evening. Unfortunately, the faucet in the kids’ bathroom drips something fierce, and the blip, blip was more than Thaine and I could stand after the bedlam…er, cheerful noises of the day were done. Thaine drained the tub and respectfully placed the animals in the sink until morning.

Concerned children promptly filled the tub in the morning, and the growing recommenced. Ian kept carrying his sea turtle around half grown and was reprimanded by various siblings, but in the end it was this behavior which spared the turtles very life. By nighttime, they were pretty big but not fully grown. Blip, blip, blip. Thaine firmly wrenched those hot and cold knobs one more time (we both do this several times a day with no effect), drained the tub and placed the animals in the sink.

In the morning, Jeremy dutifully placed the animals in the tub and ran water over them. Ian shortly thereafter brought his sea turtle out, and he was pretty big and beautiful. After  while, I had a solemn report from Heather that the growing animals had “exploded.” As she is known for exaggeration and drama, I only raised my eyebrows at her and said something along the lines of “That’s nice, dear.” and went about my business. Someone else mentioned exploded animals, so I thought I’d better go see. Heather added that it was “very awful, they have no eyes, no mouths.” A grim observation.

In fact, the two remaining animals had disintegrated into stringy masses of gelatinous ooze. Jeremy had used hot water in the tub, because he couldn’t turn the cold water knob, Thaine’s nightly twist having been more effective than average. The hot water was more than the  substance of these creatures could resist. It turns out they grow because they are made of that weird gel-granule stuff that’s in diapers.

I put a sieve over the drain and told everyone not to remove it, so the water would drain out and we could clean out the gel blobs. Ian was right there and within 3 minutes had removed the sieve to see what would happen. The drain was choked with octopus substance sure enough. After some efforts and some more hot water, the tub seemed to be draining normally. Within a few hours the surviving turtle suffered an arm amputation and required re-attachment surgery. If you’ve ever tried to sew up a damp diaper you have some feeling for the procedure and the quality of the results.

Think twice before buying plastic animals that grow.

--Erika

Momentarily Disabled

(Written just before Christmas 2006)

A form came to my desk recently, seeking someone to fill it out. A statement was needed as to whether a patient was disabled or not. The lady had not been to our clinic for over one year, so I did not feel I could fill out the form without seeing her. Disability applications always raise red flags in doctors’ minds, anyway, and I certainly wanted the chance to meet the lady and review her situation.

She came shortly thereafter. One look from the doorway let me know there was a real disease afoot. Her hands lay oddly in her lap, with mild deformity and muscle wasting obvious. This lady, only a few years older than I,  really didn’t want to be called disabled, but was hoping the form would help her access training so she could get a job. The present crisis was that her husband just had surgery, was unable to work, and they have a number of children at home. They can get help from the state, I just needed to fill out this form so the state of Texas knew how to help them best. My pen hovered uncertainly over the boxes that could aid or devastate their situation. I got one of the nurses to help translate to make sure I understood everything well and marked the right box!

One look at the chart and the body riddled with pain and abnormal joints made me doubt this Spanish-speaking only patient would find employment possible. However, we left that possibility open in the future, hoping access to specialists might help her that much. To date, she hadn’t followed up with specialists nor filled presciptions from 10/05 because it was all so expensive and she had no insurance. Now with Medicaid, she hopes to be able to control her disease.

She told me how hard it is to run her house, and repeatedly stated that her husband helps her so much. She often has to sit in a chair and explain the housework to the children, and they do almost everything themselves. Her life sounded so very difficult I kept expecting tears to come. But, she related all this very matter-of-factly. She either had come to terms with it, or knew so much difficulty that telling the story just wasn’t worthy of emotion. She seemed like such a sweet, lovely lady. As I helped her stiff, oddly shaped arms into her sweater sleeves I felt myself weak from this insight into her world.

At the door I searched for what words would be appropriate linguistically and culturally to express my warmth and best wishes for their family. I asked her to greet her family for me and wished them a happy Christmas together. She turned and looked me cheerfully in the eye and said, ”Thank you. My children don’t want any other gift for Christmas than that I get better.”

Oh, my. May we all be so gracious with the lesser burdens we have to bear.

--Erika

Thank you!

We want to thank our Heavenly Father for providing for our financial needs! We also want to thank two, anonymous channels of His blessing through whom came two large gifts at the end of last year. Thank you whoever you are! God has blessed Erika and me with part-time work that fits well with our involvements here at the House of Cornelius, and those gifts brought us into the black, took care of things like tune-ups and cracked windshields, and have also made us into channels of blessing to others.

Thank you also to the Christian Home Fellowship of Boulder and to those, anonymous persons that have given gifts regularly over time! We wanted to let you know that our family's needs while we are living here at the House of Cornelius are now met by our part time work. So if there are other needs that God makes you aware of, praise God and feel free to redirect your gifts. But if you continue to feel led to give to our family, praise God! We will use those gifts for needs at the HOC and in Mexico as the Spirit directs.

--Thaine

Don Quixote

And now gay-plumaged birds of all sorts began to warble in the trees, and with their varied and gladsome notes seemed to welcome and salute the fresh morn that was beginning to show the beauty of her countenance at the gates and balconies of the east, shaking from her locks a profusion of liquid pearls; in which dulcet moisture bathed, the plants, too, seemed to shed and shower down a pearly spray, the willows distilled sweet manna, the fountains laughed, the brooks babbled, the woods rejoiced, and the meadows arrayed themselves in all their glory at her coming.

Thus begins the morning that Don Quixote and his faithful squire, Sancho Panza, are awakened from their slumber and vigorously attacked by a mysterious knight and his squire.

After the outreach season last year we went to Colorado for a wedding and to visit family and friends. We spent many days with my (Thaine's) parents at their house and in the mountains, so there was time to read. On a whim, since I had heard it was an iconic piece of Spanish literature and culture, I picked up Don Quixote and began to read. The first pages of the book were hilarious with humorous quotes from books of chivalry such as, "the reason of the unreason with which my reason is afflicted so weakens my reason that with reason I murmur at your beauty." The whole book is essentially a satire on books and stories of chivalry. It is extremely well written, with rich language. I read it in English–a translation from the 1800's–and continually marvelled that the poetry rhymed so well and at the richness of the vocabulary. The character of Don Quixote is introduced immediately and most of his well-known adventures such as jousting with the windmills occur within the first 50 pages of the book. But the book is over 1,000 pages long! The rest of the book contains myriad sub-plots and adventures, and sheds autobiographical light on the life of the author Miguel Cervantes. Cervantes was, among many other things, a soldier fighting against the Moors (Muslims), was wounded, was captured and held as a slave for ransom, and spent much of his life in financial distress. He weaves these very serious, non-comical things into the book in sub-plots with incredible detail and gravity, all while maintaining an overall light-hearted and comedic tone.

After reading the book I began to see names and influences from Don Quixote all over Juarez. There is a neighborhood we often go to that looks like any other urban colonia, except that many of the tiny yards house horses and donkeys! It seems that all the families on a certain street drive horse carts; making deliveries and collecting junk. Of course the street is appropriately named "Calle Rosinante." Rosinante is Don Quixote's horse and is as much a character in the story as any of the humans. In fact, the book opens with ballads and poems sung by Sancho Panza the Squire and Rosinante the horse. The picture to the right is from the front of one of the houses on Rosinante street.

I have since thought a lot about the significance of the book. Of course it is significant historically as a literary pioneer and masterpiece of prose and language. But its greatest significance for me is the theme of a man who chose to live out his ideals in spite of the stark "realities" around him. Don Quixote strives to live the ideal of chivalry while all those around him are self serving. (Don Quixote even preaches an amazingly biblical sermonette about loving your enemies versus revenge, only to be showered with stones after Sancho Panza followed the entirely sensible sermon with a very silly statement saying essentially, "See how Godly my master is, and how Godly I am by associating with him?" The scene is the age-old picture of those who are content to let others be righteous on their behalf.) Don Quixote sees things in black and white, and though he lacks discernment, strives to do right because it is right. This inspires me! In many ways I am like Don Quixote. I believe the Bible. I believe that Jesus Christ came in the flesh and died for my sins. I believe I have new life in Him, and I believe that Heaven is a real place. I believe that His yoke is easy. In the world's eyes, the teachings of Jesus are idealistic and not compatible with the "realities" of life. So like Don Quixote, my family and I have chosen to live a life that is driven by ideals and, like Don Quixote, we are often seen as fools for doing so.

--Thaine