I feel like I am supposed to beginning this blog post
stating, “I just CANT believe it is already time to leave!!!” The truth is
though, I really can believe it. This is not to say that I didn’t have an
absolutely incredibly time, because I did. Rather, I am just ready to move on.
I am ready to explore north India- feel like a tourist, eat different food, be
around more foreigners and therefore be less self-conscious all the time. I am
ready to explore Thailand and sprawl on beaches (this may even include exposing
my shoulders and ankles! Oh boy!). I am ready to relax in Myanmar with my
family and allow someone else to be in charge of all the difficult details
involved in the trains, planes, and hotels of travelling (thanks Mike!). Mostly
though I am ready to feel like me again. My life in India has been amazing-
everything about it is an adventure. I experienced a whole new wardrobe, a
whole new family, new friends, new foods, a new language, new expectations, new
classes, new professors, new ways of going to the bathroom, the list will
really never end. While this was so exciting in the beginning and such an
overall wonderful learning experience because it has caused me to question many
of my assumptions and habits, I have reached a point where I am ready to return
to things that remind me of who I am. More than anything I miss the control I
had in the US.
Being an American
woman, I have grown up feeling entitled to my independence and power over my
own life. If I am hungry, there are multiple ways I can get food. If I am hot
and itchy at night I have a plethora of options available to me to solve the
problem. I am used to being able to go shopping alone, being able to wear
clothes that are cozy or clothes that make me feel beautiful. I am used to
being able to have some alone time. I am used to being able to make decisions: when I shower, how much food I eat, whether I
exercise, what jewelry I wear, etc. In India people do not do things alone as
much, alone time is granted to me only when I say that I am napping and tightly
bolt the door (sometimes my pesky little sisters will still bust through my
door to double check that I am really sleeping). Decisions are made as a group.
Also being a woman means a different thing here. I cannot leave the home alone
at night, if I need something (like mosquito repellent or bottled water, I should
have thought ahead). I cannot wear tight clothing or clothing that shows my
ankles or shoulders. To do so would bring shame to my family and, more
alarmingly, it would literally invite unwanted harassment from men.
One of the things I am looking forward to most about
returning home is being alone in my dorm room, playing my own music out loud,
and drinking tea amidst my fairy lights and posters. I miss being able to do
things that make me happy to be myself and be alive and just be. I miss playing
the piano, I miss singing, I miss my family and friends, I miss my life.
I really feel like this the perfect place to be as my
semester abroad is ending. I know that I will not even comprehend the things
that I will desperately miss about India until a few months from now but I am
happy that in this moment, I want to return home. India has taught me to be
grateful for many of the things that I just took for granted. Who would have
known that my relatively “normal” life in the US could seem so appealing? Maybe
this is why people go on great crazy adventures. They leave to explore and see
new things and meet new people and broaden their horizons, etc , etc etc. But I
think they might also leave because it makes the returning so much sweeter.
I love India. I love the spicy food. I love how warm it is.
I love being barefoot, whizzing through overcrowded streets at hair-raising
speeds and seeing so many brilliant colors everyday. I love how many people
smile at me and say hi and ask me if I need help. I love wearing billowy
clothes that are simple and comfortable in a place where people don’t think
they make you look like a balloon. I love how much attention my host sisters
and host grandma slather on me. I love their accents. I love how my host mom
laughs and how she expresses love to her children through poking fun at them
and pretending to be angry. I love how my laundry is always washed, dried in
the sun, and ironed for me. I love how everyone EVERYWHERE wants to feed me:
all of my host mom’s friends, my auto driver, my henna and veena teachers,
random people on the train, etc etc. I love how there is tea time twice a day
and no one misses it. Our classes are scheduled around tea. I love the curd
here (aka yogurt). I love how songs are
exchanged as a polite offering (you sing to me, I will sing to you- thus we
will welcome each other). I love drinking coconuts. I love how angry I am that
I cannot get a mango because it is not mango season. I love how much random
strangers love my nose ring and attempts to speak Tamil.
I could go on forever. The thing is, I love this place. I
really do. I am incredibly happy that I came here. With that being said, I am also happy to be
going home and returning to things that are familiar, places I feel like I fit
in, and all you people I love!
