Wednesday, September 17, 2008

What A Difference A Day Makes

I feel like a child all over again. I think the fun part of being a kid will come later...but for right now all I feel is lost. I stand quietly behind people to watch how they do the simplest things. How to order food, how to wash your bowl, and where to put it when you're done. How to greet people, how to dress, and even how to wash myself. Within the beauty there is confusion. And honestly I think it's a common feeling amoungst the Westerners. There are alot of white people but still way more Indians than anything. I've only seen one other black woman and she is the second black woman I've seen in India so far. People are nice for the most part. A nice woman helped me when I arrived and was lost. I couldn't open my temperary room and another woman helped me try to unlock it...They gave me the wrong combo. Another woman even paid for my breakfast because I didn't have rupis. It's like starting your life all over again with no memory of how things go. It's beautiful though. Black crows fly around like pigeons, the sun shines through the palm trees into the cafe. People seem extremely quiet..even when they are speaking. Like, peace. I wish you all could have this peace. We find it how we can through all the hustle of the city, but you all deserve to be given this type of peace. Not scrape up a bit of calm here and there; dusting off tranquility and paisting together the good parts of life. There's too much stress in our lives...we all know that. But to know and to experience are too different things.

I could say the biggest craving has been the desire to call each and everyone of my friends. Each for different reasons. Beyond food you guys have been my sustainance. And I think one of the biggest things I'll get out of this experience is the feeling of overwhelming appreciation and gratitude for every friend I call family. You are missed.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

I'm at work reading your post just amazed and it's only the first day. You rock Nik Nik

Claude