I am in Hubli. It is still surreal and we have been here for longer than a week. I did not do any mental preparing this time before leaving. Usually, it is a process, I must think about it, imagine myself plopped in the particular culture, think about all the positive encounters I am about to have but also be realistic about a few of the challenges I may face. This time, I decided to not over think anything though. It was my first time traveling on a dialogue, not playing the role of student. It was the first time I couldn’t just dive in and try to be close friends with a particular group of students. It has been a bit challenging for me at times. Then, I stop trying to sort through all the thoughts in my head, that can sometimes feel destructive, am I doing a good job, am I balancing my priorities, and I stop, take a look around and begin observing. I am here because I am here but why?
I am in India. It will occur to me, as I am jammed in the rickshaw trying to keep the massive amounts of dust out of my mouth and eyes. It will occur to me as I am bobbling my head trying to get half off the inflated, foreigner rate. One hundred village children will be running after me, speaking in their native tongue and I will reply, “Nanage Kannada BarOdilla” because I can not speak Kannada well and I am in Karnataka.
India is a fascinating place and being it is my second time here, for an extended period of time, I am trying to soak everything up. I want to meet locals, go to bollywood shows, become a yogi, dress the dress, test my limits and devour as much of this amazing food as possible. It has only been a week and so far I can really say, I have fallen in love. Last time I left, thinking “I like this place but there is no way I can say I love it.” And now, yesterday in particular, I was sitting on a jam-packed bus, thankful I had a seat, next to a woman wrapped in a beautiful, green, sparkly sari. She had her nose pierced and decorated with gold jewelry, her ears encircled with gold chain and jewels, looking immaculate. She was absolutely gorgeous. Although, we had severe communication issues, I enjoyed her company. She looked a young 68, stunning and so interested in my culture. I had my camera out perusing though pictures of family and friends, replaying old memories in my head, in my own little world. She sat, so observant, and silent. When she saw something she thought looked scandalous, for Indian status, she would lightly tap my right arm with the back of her hand and point as if I was being scolded by my grandmother for being out of line. Then she would smile and show off her crooked, off-colored teeth and we would both laugh. Not a word was spoken but the interconnectedness was felt between the two of us, generations apart, from opposite sides of the world, yet sitting in that moment side by side. It are those little encounters that happen every day in this vast country of contrast and rich culture, with such a diverse array of individuals, that keeps me proclaiming, I LOVE THIS COUNTRY.
