The Estate of Tom Caudill and the Evil Green-Eyed Fembot

Just in Time for Halloween!

Gather around, ladies and gentlemen, and I will tell you a tale so bone-chilling, so ghastly, of unbridled greed and insipient evil, that it will make you reach for your loved ones, hold them tight, and call your lawyers to hammer out an iron-clad will on your behalf. I am talking about the tale of:

The Estate of Tom Caudill and the Evil Green-Haired Fembot

Twas a merry Christmas in 2003, when Tom married Brababa with all the hope and glimmer of true love in his eyes. As they exchanged wedding vows in front of a preacher, little did he know what sort of sordid and ghastly story into which he was entering.

Fast forward to 12 months later, and you’ll see Tom awash in divorce papers and ugly allegations. His blushing bride was, in fact, a Fembot of the most dangerous kind; the bitter middle-aged divorcée model. It wasn’t what he’d bargained for, and he now realized that he’d been duped from the start. The protracted divorce proceedings lasted longer than the marriage, as Tom saw his life stripped away. Brababa’s hair went from its original brilliant bottle-dyed blonde to “too much time in the swimming-pool” green, and her eyes turned to a dull grey that matched the cold metal computer chip in her chest where her heart should have been. Having kicked Tom out of the house when he confronted her for her evil ways, she obtained a court order to prevent him from collecting his belongings by lying to the police with false accusations. With nothing but his dignity, Tom had no choice but to escape to his homeland of Tennessee, ready to take care of his ailing mother and recover his life, starting with finalizing this divorce!

But the Fembot would not let go!!!! No ounce of real human blood pumped through Brababa’s veins (she had no heart to pump it, remember), she would not even to allow Tom to retrieve his passport so he could attend the wedding of his daughter, La Sirène Heureuse. Nor did Brababa budge when La Sirène begged her to release the silver candlesticks, heirlooms in the Caudill family, to be used at the wedding. Brababa kept it all, laughing maniacally from the tower of the new McMansion she’s lured Tom into building during month 6 of their marriage (and from which she kicked him out of by month 12). Ever resilient, Tom managed to receive a new passport, and the wedding went off without a hitch (whew!).

Sadly, Tom’s misfortunes at the hands of the Fembot proved too much. Nearly three years after the fateful X-Mas 03 wedding, Tom Caudill passed away from cardiac arrest. Many many many mourned this loss, particularly his daughter, his mother, his family, and his best friend Missus Vacas. But not Brababa. Having refused to relinquish her death grip over Tom, the divorce process had not ended. And so, even though the final settlement date had been set for the very next month after his death, Brababa was still considered the “spouse.” Chillingly, Brababa paraded her new “widow” status across her northern-“Base” roaming grounds. But, when asked to accept responsibility for Tom’s remains, she refused, and refused again when asked if she would contribute to his inurnment. She appeared to finally be through with Tom, but wait! In fact that was not true, because not two days after Tom’s passing did Brababa contact La Sirène to ask, was she part of his will??????

Mmmmm, can you guess the answer? Certainly not! Brababa, however, had no reason to gripe. Her clingy divorce strategy had paid off. And, although the divorce proceedings were twice as long as the marriage, and although the final court date for the divorce would have happened only one month after Tom’s death, she banked. And big time. No sooner was the grave freshly dug did she get a letter from the government with happy news. As the widow, she was entitled to Tom’s Full Pension! A double income every month for the rest of her life! (Unless, of course, she got married before the age of 55, however considering the state of Brababa’s hair, eyes, and cold metal skin that wasn’t a threat.) And wait, there was more! She also got his full 401k fund, a sum close to $100k! How wonderful! Now Brababa could finally pay those pesky McMansion mortgage bills. She could also afford to pay off the bills left over from their wedding, (an extravagant yet tacky affair at a lesser kingdom castle) and her pseudo-sophisticate honeymoon in Portugal. Why! With all that money, she could now go ahead and get that kitschy timeshare in Vegas Tom would never give in to. (Vegas timeshares are always such excellent investments, you know. Here here!)

But prepare yourselves, dear readers, for the horror of a Fembot’s ways. For Brababa was not to be satisfied with her new found fortune. Her clinginess to Tom, her insatiable desire to possess him, had not, in fact, faded with his death. There was more to be had of him, to be sure, and she was determined to get it. No matter that she had been disinherited from Tom’s will, she went directly to the one person Tom had entrusted his estate, his beloved Sirène and drew her into a court battle for the rest of the estate! Still retaining all of Tom's possessions in her Northern lair, Brababa would not even let La Sirène have anything left of her father if she could stop it. For you see, Brababa's aim as a Fembot is not only to destroy her unsuspecting mark, but all who loved him as well.

Sirène knew the great evil she faced in the Fembot, and gathered around her the strengths of her family and friends. Together, they won back Tom’s possessions from the raging medusa, and cherished them for the years of warm memories they held, memories Brababa was never a part of (they were only together for 12 months, after all, geez). At times, the fight looked lost, and Sirène’s family feared for her safety in the face of Brababa’s insanity. But after 13 months (count’em, 13 MONTHS) of dragging out the estate battle, Brababa was forced to back down, accepting a settlement so puny it only covered her lawyer’s fee. Steadfast heroine Missus Vacas lead the final battle, and as she saw Brababa cower with her tail between her legs, she felt no great exultation, but only satisfaction at having forever vanquished the virus from La Sirène and her family.

But Brababa had one last legal trick up her sleeve. No sooner had she declared before the court judge that she had no future right to the estate, was she pushing her lawyer to force La Sirène and her supporters to sign the settlement and pay the piddly sum before the 30-day mandatory processing period. Wise to the Fembot’s scheming ways, La Sirène had nothing to fear as her legal defender wrapped Brababa up and shipped her out of Tennessee back to her northern lair, promising to pay up once the settlement was finalized legally, not when Brababa demanded.

La Sirène, Missus Vacas, the legal eagles and family, free at last from the black-hearted Fembot, know that Brababa’s desperate clinginess to Tom is finally broken. The “widow” does not even know where her “husband” is buried. (And we aren’t offering the information.)

Licking her wounds in the north, Brababa is no doubt hatching her next scheme to lure another unsuspecting family into her greedy machinations for more money and souls. So if you meet the straw-haired Fembot, and you hear her tale, beware and remember, she is simply a robot programmed to cause hurt and pain to families she interacts with. But like all Fembots, she is now an “older” model, and all her fortunes cannot buy her enough “updates” to account for her mechanical failings. In the end, she is, as we are all, responsible for her own choices and humiliations.



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Indian Wedding Story

Indian Wedding Story - Christmas 2006

From the moment we hit Mumbai, at 6am on Christmas day, we were off buying wedding outfits and jewelry. That evening we attended the Sangeet, a big dance and music fete. If anyone knows Paras, then you know the Maniars are not shy to dance. We also got to meet the lovely Payal, who it turns out also loves to dance! She studied classical dancing and performed a special routine for Paras, and we sat back in satisfaction and said "Okay, we like her." Toward the end of the evening Mike and I snuck out to go walking in Mumbai streets, and were compliments on our wardrobe, our gifts from the groom (No, Paras, we were supposed to give YOU gifts, not the other way around!)

The next day was all about family and henna. The morning began early with the Mandvhu to honor family and relatives who have passed on. The entire family turned out for this, but here is where the Maniars surpassed M&M: we were passed out cold from the trip, dancing, shopping and overall excitement. But we made it out in time for the food! We spent the afternoon chowing and getting henna on the hands and arms. That evening Payal's family hosted a cocktail party, which Mike heartily attended. I decided to catch the flu at that point, which in retrospect was a bad decision because I heard from Mike there were chocolate covered strawberries and a champagne fountain.

The third day, Wedding Day! I spent the afternoon recuperating and figuring out how to wear the sari. Finally a hotel receptionist had to come to help me, but as soon as I entered the wedding site there was a crowd around me fixing it again. By this time Mike had also caught the flu but wasn't about to miss this, so a quick run to the pharmacy saved the day. The wedding event took place just outside the cricket stadium, with lights in the trees, a stage, a live traditional music band, and more food then you ever hoped to see in your life. Also, more chocolate covered strawberries and champagne, with fresh fruit juices.

Paras & Payal's wedding ceremony was beautiful, and surprisingly interactive. During one song, the audience were given flower petals to toss onto the couple. With all the flashbulbs going off at each moment you'd think they were Aishwarya Rai & Abhishek Bachchan. After the ceremony, the couple then had to receive all 900 guests in a receiving line, and take photos to boot! And, get this, Paras was fasting!!!! Meanwhile, the rest of us were stuffing our faces and relaxing in our Indian finery. P&P still managed to look better than the rest of us.

The next day we toured Mumbai a bit with other wedding guests, including Alex who took most of these photos. We ran home in time to make it to the Harakh Jaman, a dinner thrown for the groom's family to welcome the bride and her family. This "low key" affair still had an amazing food spread and left us rolling home in the evening. I attempted the sari on my own this time and alllllmost pulled it off. But I still had to be fixed when I arrived at the dinner.

On our final day we decided to tour the city and buy some artwork Mike had been eyeing. We got it at the last minute, causing a major fuss and having to exchange taxis, as per our usual style. But had no problems at the Mumbai airport.

All in all, this was a trip you get the chance to take only once, and you always wish you could relive the whole thing. I am now the proud owner of 3 saris, and Mike of 2 pajamas with scarves, not to mention some great sandals. We confirmed that Indian food might be the best cuisine around, particularly South Indian food. We met wonderful people, fell in love with the Maniar clan, and amazingly, spent a lot of time with Paras despite his hectic schedule, (which is the real reason we went to India).

Thank you again to Paras & Payal for the wonderful experience (and the presents!), and the Maniar family for their generous hospitality.

And thanks also to Alex, our intrepid photographer, who probably got the best photos of all

Check out the photos from the P&P Wedding Extravaganza on the Photo Albums links on the blog main page or click here: http://www.kodakgallery.com/ShareLandingSignin.jsp?Uc=7n5r90zt.53es3st5&Uy=-tfaxio&Upost_signin=Slideshow.jsp%3Fmode%3Dfromshare&Ux=0

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Conflicts in Kinshasa: the When, How, and Why

Conflicts in Kinshasa: The when, how and why, from M&M perspective. Disagreement (respectful and not) are invited in the comments section.

Back when the GLC made it’s Super Safari Extravaganza in March 2007, we ended a great trip only to receive frantic emails and phone calls from FINCA in Kinshasa. (Well, Frank’s messages were actually rather dower, but he’s Dutch.) Kinshasa’s political tensions had exploded once again, this time when no one expected it, at 11am on a workday. While the GLC enjoyed iced lattes at the Nakumat Junction in Nairobi, Mike, the director of FINCA, spent all day at the free Internet cafe (much to the chagrin of the wait staff) trying to monitor the situation. His parents, Fred & Joan were very understanding. And the FINCA staff in Kinshasa that were stuck in the office for two days, under heavy fire, along with 2 Kenya trainers, and no food or water…….well they get a standing ovation.

Horror of horrors, F&J were also scheduled to return to Kinshasa with Mike and fly home from there. They could not rebook their tickets to fly out of Nairobi instead, and the best that could be done was to kick it at a hotel then tenderfoot it back to Kinshasa. I was already on my way out of Nairobi to FINCA Tajikistan, and couldn’t be of any use to anyone.

Long story short, the fighting died down after two days. The GLC eventually made it into Kin and found the city getting back to business as usual. F&J enjoyed their stay in Kin, and ended up liking Congo, mostly because of the brave face put on by FINCA staff, (insert 2nd standing ovation here).

This was the 3rd street battle in Kinshasa in 9 months. The first round of fighting started in August 2006 on the same day I began a master’s degree program at the Fletcher School. It lasted for 3 days, (the fighting, not the Master’s Degree). Coincidentally, there was also another student in the program in Kinshasa at the time, and lucky for me he was an information officer at the UN. That was handy.

The second round was in November 2006 and only lasted one day, but was much heavier. Each time was centered around the neighborhood that we live in. Mike and I found ourselves on the floor of the hallway, away from windows in case something came through. The most interesting part was being on the telephone with an army officer, who explained the different weapons going off by their sound. The worst was the 2nd time, after it was already quiet, and we heard a shot, a scream, and two more shots. Two hours later we watched the police pull the bodies away from the front of our house. We don’t know who shot them, but they were civilians.

Our house, in front of the Interior Minister’s house, inside the intersection of two main boulevards, and 4 blocks from the opposition headquarters, isn’t in the best location. Frank and his wife Joy also live in the area. For perspective, we’re also next to the golf course, country club, and Belgium & Chinese Diplomats, and the local youth soccer league. So go figure. It’s been tough luck for a lot of good people to live in this neighborhood. Why not move? Because 1) This couldn’t possibly happen again (we say this each time), 2) YOU try finding a decent house/apartment in Gombe! You got no where else to go!

Our street survived relatively unscathed this last time around. Although we were on safari, there was a security guard and the gardener trapped at the house (applause to them as well). Our neighbor’s house was overrun by military “searching for someone” but the only disturbance at our house were some shegue trying to climb the wall.

The same cannot be said up at Frank & Joy’s apartment building, which is a block away and although in tact, bears a resemblance to Swiss cheese. It is next to the church of Pastor Ngoy, a controversial opposition figure, which was burned to the ground. The entire area one block above our house is peppered with bullet holes, and yesterday I found shell casings still in the street one month later. Poor Jane, the housekeeper we share with Frank & Joy, was trapped at their place for two days before it was safe enough to go home. Luckily, they had plenty of food, water, internet and satellite tv. (3rd standing ovation for the FINCA employees trapped in the office)

The bad stuff:
A stray bullet came through the window of Mike’s office at FINCA. Luckily, no one was in it, and Mike was with the GLC sipping iced lattes. I don’t care to venture into “what if” territory.

The sad stuff:
The brother of our IT manager, an employee at the BIAC (Bank) along the Boulevard, was killed when the building was bombarded. The same building also housed Unicef offices. The story (unconfirmed) is that during the fighting, after hiding for some time in the shelter under the building, he ventured up to get some coffee, and switched on the lights……………….

Good stuff:
The Congolese military has been pulled out of most Kinshasa posts. Thank God. The RPGs, guns, and marijuana smoke on the corner was pretty freaky. This likely means that Bemba’s militia are gone, or at least in hiding.

More good stuff for the moment:
The opposition has returned to government after it suspended participation saying it was being harassed. In addition, prominent opposition leaders jailed last year for “inciting violence” after the 2nd urban battle have been freed. Baby steps, people, baby steps.

The causes?
Politics as usual - Congo style. Kabila, the president, and Bemba, a former VP under a coalition govt, went head to head in the 2006 presidential elections. Both men can call hundreds of militia fighters to their cause. Kabila, as the elected president (and former interim president) has a more legitimate claim to military support, and he’s supposedly allowed 12k-15k presidential guards (sources vary). Bemba, no longer a VP but now an elected Senator, cannot legally claim a militia for his protection bu twas allotted 12 men. Both men come from families with shady mafia-like background, both men are smart, educated, wealthy, and have an extreme sense of entitlement. The govt has been pushing Bemba to disarm his militia and there were peace-talks going on up to point of the 3rd fight.

The clashes in the street are generally between Bemba’s guys and Kabila’s guys, although, Kabila’s guys are now the Presidential Guard, police, and military. So after this third round, the govt (a majority coalition of Kabila supporters) issued an arrest warrant for Bemba. Bemba sought shelter in the South African Embassy, and was allowed to go to Portugal for medical treatment. He broke his leg in December and now needs treatment……….in April, in Portugal.

Perspective:
The main thing to note is that this is a spillover of old animosities from the civil war that technically ended with an interim government in 2003. We haven’t seen mass uprisings and demonstrations of support for either Kabila or Bemba, (surprisingly, since Bemba can claim Kinshasa as a stronghold). There is real battle fatigue in Kinshasa. Nor are foreigners deliberately targeted or blamed for this particular conflict. Civilians are unfortunately among the casualties, due to the unrestricted and undisciplined ways of the troops. This doesn’t say a lot for the strength of the Congolese govt. It also doesn't say a lot for the United Nations, which has sent here the largest peacekeeping force in the world since 2003.

If anyone pushes Kinshasa through the mess, it will be the Kinois themselves. They show a desire to move forward. First with patience over delayed elections, then with a constitutional referendum that was not clarified, then peaceful voting and strong voter turnout. Right now the subconscious consensus is to move on already, and see what the future holds. And that’s what makes us feel like the DRC is still worthwhile.

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