23 May 2009

India: Thoughts, Ex Post Facto

I started writing this post while I was in transit from Delhi to the States, and looking back, much of it is delirious, overtired nonsense. It started off pretty okay, though:

I'm sitting in Newark at 6:00 a.m., wide awake and waiting.
Already the chai wallahs, rag-pickers, auto-rickshaw drivers, and disconnected college kids seem far away. Delhi's distinct perfume of sewage and burning garbage, dust and dirt made just bearable by jasmine blossoms and sun-dried chilies, deep-fried snacks and scented oils - this multifarious scent lingers in my nose but is masked by the distinctly American smell of swine flu fear, which smells suspiciously like antiseptic.
I bought an Odwalla smoothie and a lemon poppy seed muffin, and it's the strangest thing I've done in months.

That was the strangest thing I had done in months...as peculiar as that may sound. I had gotten into my routine of non-routineness and all of a sudden I left it 7500 miles away. I had trouble wrapping my head around the fact that even before I was back in Massachusetts, I felt I had left India a very long time ago.

Reverse culture shock. I've heard it said that reverse culture shock is worse than the initial culture shock of being in a new place. I neither had bad initial culture shock nor any significant reverse culture shock. There are good and bad things about my hometown and about Delhi. I was ready to leave behind haggling for transportation; being gawked at, hit on, or photographed by strangers multiple times a day; stepping into an oven every time I stepped out my door; the dust that got all over everything (including my feet even when wearing socks and sneakers!); the nuisance of using bottled water to brush my teeth. I was excited to return to the land of supermarkets, cars that can take me from point A to point B in peace and at my own pace, a bed with cushioning, my own room, a kitchen to cook in, family and friends, a back yard. Simultaneously, I knew I would miss the excitement of my daily commute, the satisfaction of negotiating a fair price on something I wanted so much I would have overpaid anyway, the struggle of putting a new language to use, the spontaneity of picking up and going somewhere new on weekends, the colors, the sounds, the smells, and the tastes. For a while, those seemed so much better than suburbia, inadequate and expensive public transportation, overpriced consumer goods, the same sights I've seen my whole life, familiar food, and remarkably few smells.

I'm something of a chameleon, I've decided. I adapt to my surroundings far better than I used to. While I was in India, I tried to make the most of it. Towards the end, I started planning one thing to do every day just because I wanted to, one thing that I hadn't done but had been meaning to do. I immersed myself in where I was as much as I could, and I got a lot out of it. I got even more than I was expecting. Having said that, as soon as I got home, I got right back into the swing of American life. I slept for about 12 hours the first night I was home, and yes, I was a little put off by how clean and quiet everything was, but I more or less felt almost as if I hadn't been away. In context, I couldn't have expected Massachusetts to be anything other than what I've known it to be for 19 or so years, so there was nothing "shocking" about it.

I'm going to miss India. Someday I would like to return; I need to visit the extreme north and extreme south and also find my way to a beach somewhere. I would love to do that in the company of someone I know and love; I am enamored with India, despite all its faults and the fact that sometimes it made me downright miserable, and I want to share that with people. However, I also have some serious wanderlust. I've realized just how many places I would like to wander around as soon as I have the money. Ideally, I'd like to visit every country in the world, but realistically, there are about a dozen that top the list. Having been to the other side of the world and sneaking in a side trip to a different continent, I think I'll slowly be able to check them off my list; I know what it takes to plan a trip, and I've gotten less afraid to actually DO whatever it is I want to do...rather than waiting for things to be perfect. If I have the time and I have the money (mostly), then why the hell not? I haven't been able to sit still for long for much of the time I've been home. I was bumming around the house for a few days, then went to visit one sister and move the other out of her townhouse, was home for a few more days, then went to visit friends for a few days, was home for a few days, then started going to shows in Providence. When I'm at home, I don't do much: read, drink tea, play with my computer, go through endless photos, run trivial errands. I love to do all of those things (except maybe errands), but now I know (experientially) how much I don't know and haven't experienced, so I find myself itching for adventure.

India was certainly an adventure. There are, of course, things that made me dissatisfied, things I didn't do that I wanted to, and times where I didn't want to be there anymore, but I think I gleaned something useful out of every day and every experience. I'm at least going to tell myself that I did, since it would be a waste to think or feel otherwise. Even if I didn't get anything out of it at the time, I've come to some conclusions in retrospect that trump feelings I may have had on bad days. In the end, it's all love and all good.

I start my job on Tuesday, which will keep me more than busy enough, and it's finally starting to feel like summer in New England. Almost. This will be a good season. Fall is shaping up to be something wonderful, too. Right now I'm excited for the heavy courseload I have planned, though I'll probably change my mind about that by the end of September.

Dhanyavad - thank you - for reading all my rambling posts and being interested in what I'm doing. Thanks for the emails, the Skype dates, the IMs, and the Facebook messages. Technology is great when you're far away from what you know best.

Until my next adventure, then.
Take it easy (but take it!).

Namaste.

No comments:

Post a Comment