Naina's changing. Not surprising. Language skills are so different now to when she left that it is almost like a new person is inside N.
There's a scene in the Simpson's first season where Bart is sent on an exchange program to France and nervous Marge is told:
Pr. Skinner: He'd be staying in France, in a lovely chateau in the heart of the wine country.
Marge: But Bart doesn't speak French.
Pr. Skinner: Oh, when he's fully immersed in a foreign language, the average child can become fluent in weeks!
Homer: Yeah, but what about Bart?
Pr. Skinner: I'm sure he'll pick up enough to get by.
N returned to Australia completely fluent in Hindi. And some Maghi, a regional dialect of Bihar. Verbose, demanding, and utterly fluent. Only now, eight to nine weeks after returning, with saturation western TV is her hindi breaking down to a little more English. But she's able to comprehend English at a reasonable level, with some sense of accuracy. Though explaining chi-chi to the kindy teachers has been bemusing.
Obviously, taller, thinner, shorter hair. The usual things. Naina has always been a fussy eater, but now, she contentedly scoffs her food, with a bit of cajoling. She knows McDonalds means chips. Nando's means chips. Coke cans mean coke. We're able to divert her attention but she doesn't forget. I have a secret stash of up'n'go in the stairs. When we bought it, she lectured me that this was her medicine and not daddy's. She saw it today and reminded me of her comments. There were surprises coming back from India though. Tales of her happily eating eggplant and melon dishes with Deepti's sisters. I look back at that and her now complete disdain for anything more complicated than fruit or meat or bread and wonder where that kid has gone.
Her biggest strides are in independence. Toilet training has been conquered, which is a wonderful feeling, though I take no credit. It was achieved in India. We've had the odd accident since (see Coming Home), but she's pretty good. Naina's now able to dress herself. Favourite colour top - pink, favourite colour dress, pink, favourite colour pants - pink, favourite colour jacket - pink (curse you Barbie!). Although struggling with getting singlets on over the top, she pulls them up from the floor and then squeezes her arm out last. Funny. She's even started using the shower. It's a sense of joy that we can guide her rather than do this stuff for her. And she's reluctantly able to teach her little brother.
Naina is meek and mild and a worrier by nature. She insists that I give Deepti lots of love instead of arguing when I'm teaching Deepti to drive. N then falls asleep for two hours whilst we do meanders of Moorabbin's Industrial areas. Advice was given and received today on being careful not to burn my mouth on the soup/noodles. She insists that I not go to work when the weather is bad. That my boss is a bad man who she's going to smack if she ever meets him. And that Sarva's always to blame and "Mein kutch ney kiya" (I didn't do it!).
Outta my way sunshine!
Naina's also started three year old kindy, which she calls school. As with other kids, she's not fond of going, tolerates it for three hours and then cries when she sees Deepti again at 4pm. Though I think Deepti's heart breaks a little bit too, sending N. Maybe that because N's gone pathological on one of the teachers: she's not too fond of the "fat" teacher at pre-kindy because that teacher goes around hitting the kids. I have no documented evidence of this. That said, N did not cry once when she attended pre-kindy and the "fat" teacher was not there. Still not evidence.
