I’ll be Home for Christmas

Writing my first blog at home seems kind of strange. For one, I did not have to pre-write it then post it when I can find internet. Secondly, I am sitting in the comfort of my own bed at “home” while writing this (after sleeping in endless hotel beds up North usually shared by 3 of us). Side note: Its strange sleeping alone in a room where it’s silent when I wake up. No pigeons or puja bells to wake me up.  All this just to illustrate that my home in the States is not India. No brainer, right?

I guess I thought that when I got back to the States it would be easier to hold on to everything that was India to me. Of course I have only been home a week now and most of my time at home has been spent in Holiday preparation and spirit, but still. I have found it difficult to articulate stories, or simple details of my time in India. I have tried cooking some of my favorite Indian foods, but they just aren’t the same. I hate cooking on an electric stove. =)  I have tried to stay in touch with my Indian family and friends but it is more difficult than I thought with the time difference and such. I find it easier to be alone and think about India then explore it with others who were not there. Sometimes it feels like India was a dream…something so far off and foreign.  But I know in my heart that a little over a week ago I was there, and I will remember my time there forever. It will just take time to figure out how to weave together life in India and my new self and life in the States.

Bear with me people, here comes reverse culture shock.

I’m not going to write anymore blogs.. but thank you so much for reading them through out my journey in India! I truly appreciate it because it means you are much closer to understanding my experience. I love you all and am thankful for each and every one of you! I would love to talk to anyone more about my time in India that is interested…I have so many stories to tell that didn’t make it on here.

I hope you all had a Merry Christmas. Namaste.

This is not an end, but rather a beginning. Who I am is shaped by my time in India. What I do in life will be affected by this. God, guide my feet.

Last Plane Ride Home

Two more plane rides and I’m home. I am feeling so many emotions. I can not fully comprehend that I am actually returning home in 2 days. Perhaps in a week or so I can blog again. But for now here is a excerpt from a musical called The Hidden Sky.  I thought it beautifully said a lot of what I am feeling.

And it made me braver,

And it made me taller,

And it made me tremble,

And it made me smaller,

And it made me ramble,

And it made me laugh and cry.

And it made me holler,

And it made me quiver,

And it made me fearless,

And it made me stumble,

And it made me foolish,

And it made me vanish.

And it made me want to fly

 Out of myself

And into the Hidden Sky,

-The Hidden Sky.

Head North my Friend

Namaste!

Well we don’t have internet here in the North but I was able to snag a few minutes from our hotel in Jaipur. This past week has been a whirlwind of train rides, fights, bus rides, tours, visits, etc. We just got into Jaipur this morning after an 18 hour train ride from Varanasi. Here are some highlights of the three cities we have been to so far here in the North.

Calcutta (Kolkata): The 3^rd largest city in India. My throat is still raw and my voice raspy from the smog that blocks the Calcutta sun. The city is lively at every hour. Rickshaws being pulled by men, autos, taxis, bikes, and people flood the streets. I didn’t think it was possible but horns are blown more often here and people drive even faster than in the South. The buses are smashed in all areas from their battle wounds and everything is brightly colored. The food is different. The language is different. The climate is different.  Seems like another country.  In this city I saw poverty like I have never seen it before; So out in the open., so in my face.  A man dressed in a blue plaid dhoti by the Indian Museum. Missing both arms and flailing the stub of an arm he does have. With two disfigured feet and a body of a skeleton. He simply moans while laying on a blue plastic tarp. One or two rupee coins are sprawled around his body. Thousands of people storm by him every day, some lay a coin down. What’s his name and what is his story? Who lays him there each day and does he even receive any of the money given to him? Does he get to eat? I liked Kolkata but I didn’t have one good night of sleep. How could I? When I close my eyes I see the beggars on the street. When I dose I have nightmares of the poor. I wonder how Mother Teresa did this her whole life. I understand her feeling of loneliness and darkness. Living in the tension is not easy. It hurts.

Varanasi: The oldest city in India. Home to the Ganges, the holiest river in India, where all sins can be washed away by being cremated on the shores and then put into the water.  We got to go on a boat ride in the Ganges and witness some night puja on the shores. We saw the burning fires for the dead in the morning. This city is so colorful and full of history. We went on a walking tour around the city and were able to explore the endless amounts of alley roads and shops. Despite the extremely large amount of cows roaming the streets (who occasionally attacked some of our group members), and having to constantly watch where you step, I enjoyed the city.

Jaipur: The pink city. It is only our first night here but I love it already. The old city was painted entirely pink to be welcoming to visitors. We got to see the Jaipur Palace today and the Water Temple. Tomorrow I will finally take a ride on an elephant and see more exciting sites here. The architecture and handicrafts here are my favorite so far.

The food in all of the cities is superb! One week left and we are headed home. Cannot believe it. Next time I post I will most likely be home. We still are headed to Agra (to see thee Taj Mahal) and then will end in New Delhi next week.

Sorry for the kind of crappy blog without pictures. Limited Resources here. Over and out!

Learning How to Say Goodbye

I can barely believe my time in Coimbatore as come to an end. It feels like just yesterday we were experiencing our first auto ride and wondering what in the world we were getting ourselves into. I have so many emotions right now. The goodbyes are being drawn out. First to all the BACAS students and staff last night, then to my host family tonight, my neighbors in the morning, and my ISP family in 2 weeks. Not sure if that is going to make things harder or easier.

I have found myself in disbelief that I am truly leaving. I never thought I would have created such close relationships during my time here. I truly have developed a family here in India and leaving feels so strange. I do not know if I will ever return…of course I want to but what I want and what is possible is not always the same. I hate goodbyes.  I am beginning to wonder, what’s the point of a hello, if it’s only going to end in a goodbye?  But, I think God has been teaching me that his love is everywhere. That everywhere I go I will create relationships, people will touch me, I will touch them, and my life will be altered. It’s not so much about having to say goodbye as it is having been changed for a life time. For who I am has been shaped by every hello and goodbye. I do not like it but I am learning from it. I am still dumbfounded by the love I have been shown here in Coimbatore, and I will truly miss everyone that has shown this to me. Right now I am sad, excited, confused, nervous, and indifferent. I don’t know what to think about so much. One thing I know, part of my heart will always be in Coimbatore and with my family here. As for now I am must say goodbye, shed tears, cherish the love, prepare for my return home (and seeing all the people I have missed so much) and march onward.

First stop…Calcutta!

Note: Issue. My suitcase is about 10 pounds overweight. This is not good. Our 2 weeks North India trip begins tomorrow and all of our luggage will be coming with us. (on the planes, the trains, the buses, etc). Should be an adventure.  Not sure if I will have any internet up North but I will try to post some pictures.

Highlights of this past week: Seeing twilight for $2, going to the Pu (flower) Market, having a candle light service for our departure, seeing my host brother’s Christmas show on Sunday and then having dinner at my grandparents, spending time and lots of meals with the neighbors, and finishing the semester with an exam and test!

I will miss Race Course!

“Life is a process. Beginnings and endings are blurred, and blend into each other. Often the process is not even linear. Memories of the past come to us in the midst of new ventures and shape what we are doing and thinking. And new experiences allow us to revisit, reshape, and reinterpret what we have done before. The process of living becomes a continuous and organic whole, not a machine with separate parts and compartments.”      Howard A. Berry

Untitled.

Today as I was walking to get some breakfast at Ma’s Hotel, I saw the beggar that hangs out on Race Course. She is a little old lady in an old sari. She is usually sitting on the ground with her hand simply out. She is never demanding. Every day our eyes meet… Sometimes while I am running past her on my morning run. Sometimes as I give her a coin or two on my walk to school. Sometimes as we give her our extra dinner food in plastic bags. Sometimes I am just not in the mood to entertain her. Sometimes I don’t notice her. Sometimes I do and I pretend I don’t. I’m ashamed of this.

Today I walked past her as she sat on the ground. I looked at her and showed her my empty hands for I didn’t have any coins on me at the moment and I honestly forgot to bring our leftover food that was in the fridge. She usually just looks at me and understands. But, today she got up and came over to me. She grabbed my arm and looked at me differently. I don’t know what she was trying to say. I don’t know her story. But now I can’t stop thinking about her.

How many people do we walk past each day on the road, at work, at school, at home, and simply ignore?  I can’t pick and choose who my neighbor is. Everyone is my neighbor and I’m called to love them. I was going to write about something else but this came out. Sorry. Going for a walk now to find her.