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Florrie and Mag Larson live off the land in a rustic cabin on the edge of British Columbiarsquo;s coastal society. When the eccentric sisters unintentionally adopt an abandoned baby girl, their world is turned upside down. Content in her role as homemaker, Florrie embraces this unexpected gift of motherhood, but cynical Mag is a reluctant parent at best. Baby Jen grows up caught between her new parentsrsquo; wilderness lifestyle and modern life in the small community of Sechelt, struggling to figure out where she fits in. But when tragedy strikes, the reality of these conflicting lifestyles comes crashing down around them. The Goat Ladyrsquo;s Daughter is a tale of indomitable spirit and of a way of life that once was common on British Columbiarsquo;s coast.
Two children and their mother, new to the neighborhood, befriend Noelie Houle, an elderly lady who raises goats. Her other neighbors bemoan "The Goat Lady's" rundown house and barnyard animals, but the children see how she cares for her goats, they listen to her stories, and they come to love her. For many years Noelie provided goat's milk for people who needed it and sent her extra goat kids to poor people in poor countries through Heifer International. The children's mother paints a series of paintings of "The Goat Lady," and her art show at the local town hall helps the rest of the community see Noelie's kindness and courage.
The house that my mom has built is a seven-foot-tall tee-pee. She told my sister and brother after I got put in the group home to pack their shit because she read an article about this stuff called Radon, a chemical that comes out of your ceiling insulation and gives you cancer, "That's it, houses are poison, we're movin' outside." And that's what they all did that night, they went out to the field and watched our mother build out of twine, eucalyptus branches, and palm fronds...a tee-pee. And they lived in that motherfucker.
This is an engaging and absorbing story of faith and perseverance, showing how the Ghanaian writer was led by providence through his convoluted and troublesome journey that took him through various West African countries and the Middle East to his present home in Belgium. A keen observer of human suffering and vanity, he frequently asks the question: "What are we after on this earth?" What, indeed, is the whole point of existence, and what does all our striving after materialism, wealth and security amount to? The frequent biblical quotations show how the hand of God was always upon the author, protecting him from the wiles of Satan.
Have you ever been to a Red-light District? “My nath utrai (Taking off the nose ring) was performed when I was twelve or thirteen. The initial days were tough but now it gives me pleasure. I have inherited the art of making love from my grandmother.” -Roopal, a sex worker from the Bedia community in brothel number 56. Nath Utrai ceremony is nothing but the auction of the girl by the highest bidder near Bharatpur in Rajasthan. “Everyone believes that all hijras are castrated, but this is not true. We call it nirvana . Castration is usually optional. It cannot be forced upon a hijra .” -Sharmila, a eunuch from the streets of Varanasi. The narrator spends a considerable amount of time in G.B. Road, the famous red-light district in New Delhi during his stint with an NGO. He records the narratives of the sex workers of brothel number 56, insights of their daily lives, local lingos, quarrels, and the ins and outs of their business with an honest stoicism that does not dilute the terrible pathos of their lives. Through this voyage within the walls of pleasurable cells, the writer learns that the G.B. road is an inexorable web...but only because the women trapped in it believe it to be so.