I'm Not the Same Girl...

I'm not the same girl I was before India. 
Neither would I say I am the same girl I was in India.  (For example, I walked past a nickel today on the sidewalk and did not pick it up--in India, I remember not getting in an autorickshaw because the driver wanted two nickels too many for it.)

I don't shave as often.  I got used to no one knowing what my legs looked like :)
I don't shower daily.  What's the need when it's not 40* or hotter, inducing constant sweat!?!
I don't walk on the right side of the sidewalk when passing someone.  Sometimes, I even almost turn my car into the left lane instead of right.  It could be a problem if I'm ever not paying attention :)  I also feel really stupid driving because I take so many more precautions than any Indian driver would ever do.
Also, I feel weird driving when my destination is a half mile or mile away. I walked probably 10+ miles per day in Europe, so I don't really know what to do with myself now.
I don't fear walking across American roads.  It no longer seems like playing frogger after mastering crossing the highways and walking along market streets in Delhi (which involves pressing against cars while the motorcycle that almost ran over your toe passes!)
I eat meat every day, almost for every meal, thanks to living with Betty. It's quite tasty.
But my stomach is taking its time to adjust to not having the spices I got used to in India, so everything seems a little bland, even if I know it's otherwise tasty and good. 
My clothes are not as pretty, but I don't feel like I'm in more than pajamas when I wear shorts and a tee--or even a tee and jeans!
I have a constant feeling of need to bargain for things.  I realize one does not do this in Walmart or Kohl's, but it's an itch I have.
I have to think about this thing called "time" again.  That's tough.  I always arrive at class extra early now because I have a tendency to just not look at my clock or watch.  That habit formed after piddling around (other than classtimes) for 3 months.
I'm happier.  Not just because I have awesome stories to tell and people to educate about culture--I'm just happier.  I'm more content with life.  I'm really ready for this semester and next, so that I can get a job and be an OT and get on the way to India again.

I still have all this free time, as school hasn't really picked up yet, and neither has tutoring.  I am planning on working only 16-8 hours/week right now, instead of 30-40, so there is lots of time to sit, watch I Love Lucy, read, enjoy friends without looking at the clock, etc.  I'm getting spoiled, but I'm also aware things will change very soon!  I know schoolwork will pick up, but I also know that I am going to have more time than I have had since high school to just be free.  And here, there's no 10 o'clock curfew on weekends!

Really, though, I miss my kids.  I didn't realize it so much until I got home and was looking through my pictures.  I miss my R and J and Baby C.   The older girls, too, but my heart was the with babies I lived with. 
I miss J's smiles and looking at me to see if I noticed him playing with his plastic car.  I miss R looking at me to see if I noticed that she's precariously standing on the cot and trying to get the medical supplies on the entertainment center.  I miss being an unofficial OT and cheering my babies on in their progress.  Oh, I miss 'em. 
I also miss Delhi.  My friends there were amazing. I know I saw the good and the bad of Delhi, but the people really made it what it is for me.  I miss seeing my teachers turned friends, hanging out with people, and seeing all these old beautiful areas in the middle of a shopping district.  Delhi is so much more than the people though, to me, and I really fell in love with the city somehow.  I started reading this book about Delhi, on my porch swing.  (Yeah, I have a porch swing, with a real yard.  Much better than the townhome/condo we were in last year!)  Just getting through the prologue was a beautiful experience--the author seems the grime and dirt and beauty of Delhi almost just as I see it.  He explores the city like I do, rather than taking straight paths to the tourist attractions.  I really love Delhi. 

I had prayed for God to show me a city or place that He may want me in--hence, why I travelled to the various cities on my time off there.  I don't know that Delhi is where He'll put me, but I am quite attached to the city.  I am in the beginning stages of researching OT jobs in Delhi.  With NGOs or hospitals or private clinics.  Obviously, as I am living in the USA right now, the first might be the easiest to work out with visa regulations and all that.  I also know I may need to be an English teacher or something when I first get there so that I can continue to improve my hindi before working with clients who might not speak English.   It's really not scary, but is terribly exciting to think that I may only have a year left in America.

I kind of intend to enjoy this (potentially last) year here as much as possible.
It's exciting. 

I like giving away the saris and things I got for people--although I am waiting on some of them to arrive after they make it through US Customs.  It's really fun for me to watch people love things I purchased for a whole $5! :)  In a way, I'm glad my henna and hindi books and spices won't arrive for awhile.  It will be even more exciting to open up the suitcase I haven't seen in a month and smell India, see my comical stories and grammar from the beginning of the summer, watch my hindi children's videos religiously to grasp every word and sentence structure. 

Finally, thank you for all your prayers about my transition back here.  It's gone really well.  My attitude is really good about being back.  Again, I don't KNOW that I will be leaving by next fall, but thinking of that possibility probably helps me enjoy being back a little more.  But I know your prayers have helped a lot too in that transition with my heart. 
Columbia, Missouri, doesn't feel like home.  I felt that sense of "home" and belonging (for the first time probably since I moved to Missouri) when I got to India.  On first appearance, I don't belong there.  But I'm more sure now than ever that is where God seems to be directing me. 
So now, I'm not waiting, but I am just living, until I get to go back to my spice-and-urine-scented, crowded, auto-horn-honking, cow-dung-on-the-streets, electricity-outage, politically corrupt, dark skinned, hot and humid, beautiful, beautiful, beautiful India.

Europa. Week One.

I was probably twelve when I first heard of “backpacking through Europe.”  Before that, in my mind, going through Europe was luxurious—seeing all the royal places, staying in fabulous hotels that had balconies with breathtaking views of old famous places.  In my mind there would be evening gowns and operas, es cargo, caviar, and tea (pronounced tee-ah).  Compared to all that, backpacking didn’t really sound too fun.  Backpacking is what you do in the mountains or woods when you pee behind trees.

I don’t know that you would call what I’m doing exactly backpacking, as I abandoned my backpack in India and am now toting around a 30kg suitcase (yes, I speak Kilograms and Celsius now).  It’s hardly roughing it with my fresh change of clothes each day (this may not last until Chicago, unfortunately), my laptop, and anything I could possibly need (I was really REALLY prepared for India). The roughest thing I’ve done so far is standing on a train for two hours because there were too many passengers and not enough seats.

My trip is also hardly luxurious. 

But it’s really quite fun.

I met a friend in Prague, Czech Republic, and he showed me around. The old part of the city is absolutely beautiful and has a charm.  We saw the typical tourist sites, and then just continued walking around for hours at a time.  Prague has a lot of hills, so this was an adventure in itself as we stayed at the top of the hill in a very cheap (yay!) dormitory.  Maybe it’s just because it’s my first European city that I have been in, airports not counting, but it’s still my favorite so far.  Then we went to Olomouc, some old city that is small and really beautiful.  After climbing so many steep streets in Prague, we became experts at finding shaded benches, where we could rest.  Olomouc has quite a lot of charm too!  Then, after meeting Lubo’s girlfriend, we went to his hometown and his mom gave us very delicious homemade cake and was the perfect hostess.  Then we went to a fort near his hometown and enjoyed the old ruins before crashing for the night in the city where they live.

Vienna—I guess I was only there for a little over 24 hours, but it was just okay.  Given, the architecture there is gorgeous and the gelato is delicious.  In Prague I could wander around an old part of the city and just be so perfectly content at admiring everything.  I tried just wandering around Vienna and it didn’t have quite the same feel.  I had to go to the touristy areas to really enjoy it. When I finally did the touristy areas, I didn’t have enough time to truly enjoy them, so I’ll go back sometime in the future to truly see the palaces and things.

Then came Budapest. I like the Buda side, I like the Danube River, and I like the Pest side.  Unfortunately, I didn’t get to see everything that I wanted to see because my feet hurt really bad, my stomach has been weird all week so I’m guessing I need another Cipro, and I had a throbbing headache because my body craved real water.  Not water from a bottle that says “still” and then has tinier bubbles in it compared to the non “still” water.  I just want a good glass of uncarbonated, pure, water—cold or not, I don’t much care. 

 I did get to go to the Holocaust Museum, which focused equally as much on the gypsies and Jews living in Hungary then.  Seeing the images there made me realize just how quickly humans can turn on one another.  They also made me a little ashamed to internally groan about my pounding headache and blistering feet. I know things go on in Africa and Asia that are equally as wrong, but maybe it seems a little more real to me now that this was recently, in Europe, in a VERY civilized and educated country.  But then I remember my Afghan friends showing me pictures of the Afghan queens from 60 years back dressed in beautiful, low-cut ballgowns.  I guess any civilization/government can go south pretty quickly.

I also went to the “House of Terror” which was twice the building for torture under two regimes.  Even after reading all the plaques at the museums, I’m not sure which regimes—but they were Communist and the like.  The museum was okay, but there weren’t too many English captions by the items, so it would’ve been nice to understand Hungarian.  Some visitors were really moved, but I just couldn’t understand what was going on or important about a lot of it!  The most interesting part was the torture rooms and prison cells.  One was literally as much room as the seat I am sitting in on the train right now.  A British girl said it reminded her of “the chokie” from Matilda, if you have seen that movie.  It was strange to me because these were the actual rooms—not just replicas.  Of course there are lots of other beautiful places in Budapest, but these two were the most intriguing to me.

While not feeling so well, I decided I needed to not sightsee for a day, so I planned today’s trip to a small town on Lake Balaton.  It’s this gorgeous—and I do mean gorgeous—huge lake in the middle of Hungary.  The train station didn’t have lockers in the town I randomly chose to stay at (surprise, surprise), and no one really spoke English.  But I found a place to keep watch over my stuff while I spent the day at the lake.  It’s quite shallow, but is surrounded by green hills and maybe mountains.  The water is clear, and sailboats are everywhere, and the only topless girl I saw was about 6 years old, so that was nice, too J  I guess I chose the right small town to get a sunburn in! 

I’m currently headed to Zagreb…I might even be in Croatia right now, I’m not so sure.  I don’t really know much—or anything--of what there is to do in Zagreb, but I am sure it will be a quite wonderful stop before I go to Salzburg. 

It’s been a week since I left India, and I’m just finally starting to get used to the quiet.  Even in the noisy areas, filled with tourists and buses and subways, it seems SO quiet.  There is no fruit or veggie vendor yelling at my window at 7 am, people only use their horns when NECESSARY--believe it or not!, and a crowded subway allows everyone about a square foot of personal space.  India is really loud, I’m noticing after being here J  People use crosswalks—I’m having a hard time getting used to that one.  I haven’t seen a cow in a long time or heard stray cats fighting outside my window OR seen a rat scurry across my floor (Thank goodness!)  Everything just seems absolutely peaceful in comparison. 

People also seem terribly polite.  Not so much in the smile-to-say-hello way that Americans do, but in the get-up-to-let-the-elderly-woman-sit-on-the-subway or help-the-poor-American-get-her-25kg-bag-up-the-meter-high-steps-on-the-train kind of ways.  In India, you watch out for your own people, but you don’t so much consider everyone else in these ways. 

Either way, I don’t much miss my India yet, but I don’t have the “finally-home” feeling at all in Europe like I did when I first got to Chennai.  But it’s beautiful and I am LOVING my fabulous vacation.

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