'I wish I still knew what that glint in your heart feels like that inspires and tunes the song of this world to your eyes so that you suddenly see everything that you love, everything that makes it worth it. I used to have that. I want to start each day running to go see the sunrise even if it’s barely above freezing and I can see my breath because I know that the rest of the day will be drawn from the colours imprinted on my eyelids when I smiled and said hello to the sun. I don’t want to take things by day, I want to take things by years. Relaxing is good, but I don’t relax well. I procrastinate and tell myself its meditation, but it’s hesitation and I miss purpose. I don’t believe in my purpose, anyway. I don’t trust my purpose. I’m sad that I don’t hear the echo of those I aspire to in my voice anymore, I just hear wishing and no walking.'
I wrote this a couple of months ago and I think I'm finding what I was looking for. This place makes me feel like I'm living a purpose. I don't know what it is yet but I'm getting there. Everyday is an adventure. Stressful, maybe. Not always perfect. It's not quite a home yet, but I'm building it slowly with every hug and every late night spent with new familiar faces and every freak mountain crab that makes me jump.
"Gun het wat tijd"
Thursday, August 29, 2013
Tuesday, August 27, 2013
MUWCI ...
... means home now.
As I sat in a tiny bus with more people and suitcases that it was meant to hold, racing through Mumbai surrounded by the sound of German behind me, Spanish in front of me, Hindi from the driver, and the occasional Polish outburst from Ada, you'd think 'being in India' would've sunk in. Despite the distinct smell, the humidity and heat, the stores that looked like a patchwork quilt of metal and scrap wood and advertisements, and the seeming lack of road rules, it still didn't seem real. It had all gone so easy. On the plane from Amsterdam to Mumbai, I had a window seat and nobody sitting beside me and I lounged around claiming the two as a couch and slept excessively. It was dark when I landed around 11 pm Mumbai time. I was greeted with hugs by the four second years that had come to pick up a batch of incoming first years up at the airport. They had been waving Mahindra UWC of India signs and debating with a security guard whether they were allowed to sit on the one side of the fence. After a bit, Louise from Brazil arrived and soon after most of the others did too. The drive was long and crazy. Dodging rickshaws and stray dogs and the bigger potholes left and right, loud Latino and Bollywood music blasting from the speakers; for a little while all the first years could do was laugh out of sheer exhaustion and disbelief.
When I finally arrived on campus after a long 6 hour drive, it was 8 in the morning. A few second years that were walking by greeted us before setting off for their classes. Almost immediately there was continues movement. David helped me bring my stuff to Wada 3, house 5R and gave me time to pick my corner before giving me a quick tour of campus and dropping me off at the cafeteria where I had my first meal at the school. There never seems to be a moment where nothing is happening or you have nothing to do, and though it is exhausting, I love it.
Everyone is so welcoming here. When you pass second years or first years you haven't met yet, you stop and hug and introduce yourself. Even though I've only been here for 1 week, I'm more comfortable with a lot of the people in my Wada than I got with most of my classmates that I knew for 2 years. People say hello with hugs and kisses and when someone tries to get your attention, they don't scream your name but put their hand on your arm. They are small gestures but they make this place feel like home. Be it taking a nap, watching a movie, cooking food (or eating it), you never have to do it alone. My roommates are great. Ankita and Rhea are second years from Singapore and India who are both very sweet and sing beautifully. My co-year roomie is Safieh from Bangladesh who is both crazy and hilarious and also acts as my alarm clock.
On the first night, I had a little Dutchie tea party with my second years Elize, Dagmar and Kathelijne and my co-years Jamie and Daan (though Daan couldn't come). Stroopwafels, dropjes, orange tea and speaking Dutch with people other than my parents was strange after so many years in Canada but very, very lovely. Literally all the Canadians on campus associate with 2 cultures or more! I am the only Canadian in my year which I wasn't expecting and it's strange being the only one. I have always been a part of the majority yet here in India at this international school I am a minority in a lot of situations.
The campus is beyond beautiful and bigger than the pictures make it out to be. The view is breathtaking and in my wada there is a tree house overlooking the valley. India is present everywhere on campus though in very subtle ways. My wada is perfect and I am so happy with the people I am sharing it with. Every night there are people hanging around in the common room, making noodles at 12 in the morning, playing Never Have I Ever with a jar of Nutella, or sitting outside in the warm air playing music. My average bedtime here has been around 2 - 3 am and then I take naps during the day. Now that classes have started I'm hoping to cut that back to maybe 1 am ... but what with birthdays at midnight, upcoming homework and chatting with people from all over the world, we'll see how that goes.
Since coming here I have been thrown into the mud at 6 AM, gone to the bathroom with a frog staring at me, started decorating my corner and finished unpacking, attended a buddy ball, danced to the ear-splitting beat of the Paud drummers, performed in a show and forgotten almost all the lyrics, started classes and met some incredible people. On the 4th night here, I walked almost 2 hours to get to a nearby village called Badas where I stayed the night with a beautiful family.
I love love love it here.
As I sat in a tiny bus with more people and suitcases that it was meant to hold, racing through Mumbai surrounded by the sound of German behind me, Spanish in front of me, Hindi from the driver, and the occasional Polish outburst from Ada, you'd think 'being in India' would've sunk in. Despite the distinct smell, the humidity and heat, the stores that looked like a patchwork quilt of metal and scrap wood and advertisements, and the seeming lack of road rules, it still didn't seem real. It had all gone so easy. On the plane from Amsterdam to Mumbai, I had a window seat and nobody sitting beside me and I lounged around claiming the two as a couch and slept excessively. It was dark when I landed around 11 pm Mumbai time. I was greeted with hugs by the four second years that had come to pick up a batch of incoming first years up at the airport. They had been waving Mahindra UWC of India signs and debating with a security guard whether they were allowed to sit on the one side of the fence. After a bit, Louise from Brazil arrived and soon after most of the others did too. The drive was long and crazy. Dodging rickshaws and stray dogs and the bigger potholes left and right, loud Latino and Bollywood music blasting from the speakers; for a little while all the first years could do was laugh out of sheer exhaustion and disbelief.
When I finally arrived on campus after a long 6 hour drive, it was 8 in the morning. A few second years that were walking by greeted us before setting off for their classes. Almost immediately there was continues movement. David helped me bring my stuff to Wada 3, house 5R and gave me time to pick my corner before giving me a quick tour of campus and dropping me off at the cafeteria where I had my first meal at the school. There never seems to be a moment where nothing is happening or you have nothing to do, and though it is exhausting, I love it.
Everyone is so welcoming here. When you pass second years or first years you haven't met yet, you stop and hug and introduce yourself. Even though I've only been here for 1 week, I'm more comfortable with a lot of the people in my Wada than I got with most of my classmates that I knew for 2 years. People say hello with hugs and kisses and when someone tries to get your attention, they don't scream your name but put their hand on your arm. They are small gestures but they make this place feel like home. Be it taking a nap, watching a movie, cooking food (or eating it), you never have to do it alone. My roommates are great. Ankita and Rhea are second years from Singapore and India who are both very sweet and sing beautifully. My co-year roomie is Safieh from Bangladesh who is both crazy and hilarious and also acts as my alarm clock.
On the first night, I had a little Dutchie tea party with my second years Elize, Dagmar and Kathelijne and my co-years Jamie and Daan (though Daan couldn't come). Stroopwafels, dropjes, orange tea and speaking Dutch with people other than my parents was strange after so many years in Canada but very, very lovely. Literally all the Canadians on campus associate with 2 cultures or more! I am the only Canadian in my year which I wasn't expecting and it's strange being the only one. I have always been a part of the majority yet here in India at this international school I am a minority in a lot of situations.
The campus is beyond beautiful and bigger than the pictures make it out to be. The view is breathtaking and in my wada there is a tree house overlooking the valley. India is present everywhere on campus though in very subtle ways. My wada is perfect and I am so happy with the people I am sharing it with. Every night there are people hanging around in the common room, making noodles at 12 in the morning, playing Never Have I Ever with a jar of Nutella, or sitting outside in the warm air playing music. My average bedtime here has been around 2 - 3 am and then I take naps during the day. Now that classes have started I'm hoping to cut that back to maybe 1 am ... but what with birthdays at midnight, upcoming homework and chatting with people from all over the world, we'll see how that goes.
Since coming here I have been thrown into the mud at 6 AM, gone to the bathroom with a frog staring at me, started decorating my corner and finished unpacking, attended a buddy ball, danced to the ear-splitting beat of the Paud drummers, performed in a show and forgotten almost all the lyrics, started classes and met some incredible people. On the 4th night here, I walked almost 2 hours to get to a nearby village called Badas where I stayed the night with a beautiful family.
I love love love it here.
Saturday, August 17, 2013
Last post in the Netherlands
As I'm sitting cross-legged in my Oma and Opa's backyard writing this, I am surrounded by my childhood. The crack in the hedge where me and my sister made a hide-out, imaging a fort in the bush behind it and designating branches as our beds. The patch of grass where the kiddie pool was always set up. The sound of pigeons cooing which I associate so much with this place and that time ...
... and I'm feeling like a big kid. A big kid who's grown into her big kid teeth and has her own big kid bank account and is suddenly realizing that mysterious 'adult' world is as ambiguous to any other world as much as it is already here.
Stressing about finances. Holding my passport and ticket and not the hem of my dad's shirt, following him blindly through the airport. Thinking about laundry detergent.
I'm starting to realize the responsibilities and challenges that come along with attending a UWC, and though they scare me, they are the reason I want to go.
Little things like meeting my Dutch co-year Daan, learning that Wada 3 will be home for the next two years and, one-by-one, my other co-years starting their journey towards India has reminded me I will only be anywhere else for another 30 hours. Another 30 hours of being a zero year.
See you on the other side!
... and I'm feeling like a big kid. A big kid who's grown into her big kid teeth and has her own big kid bank account and is suddenly realizing that mysterious 'adult' world is as ambiguous to any other world as much as it is already here.
Stressing about finances. Holding my passport and ticket and not the hem of my dad's shirt, following him blindly through the airport. Thinking about laundry detergent.
I'm starting to realize the responsibilities and challenges that come along with attending a UWC, and though they scare me, they are the reason I want to go.
Little things like meeting my Dutch co-year Daan, learning that Wada 3 will be home for the next two years and, one-by-one, my other co-years starting their journey towards India has reminded me I will only be anywhere else for another 30 hours. Another 30 hours of being a zero year.
See you on the other side!
I cannot wait
Sunday, August 11, 2013
Nederland
I'm finally at my home away from home.
When I boarded that first plane this morning, a lot shifted. As the plane sped up and the little cars and mountains and shores of my island got left behind and we flew over Active Pass as the the sun was rising and I realized what a beautiful place I was leaving (once again), I also realized what a beautiful place I'm heading towards.
I felt sad as I saw this past chapter of my life framed by rectangular glass and I tried to tell myself it's ok. That it's ok because my dream is coming true, but I was sad because the place I was leaving was once my dream too, and
The memories of then and now will be separated by different frames, mediated by that little rectangle. Different walls and a different roof and although I'd been counting down to yesterday since a day undetermined that felt so determined back then, there was no way to prepare.
But I have never been more at peace with a decision. As I sit here in my Oma and Opa's house, eyes burning with jet lag and stomach upset with the airplane food, I couldn't be happier. India, I can't wait to meet you.
When I boarded that first plane this morning, a lot shifted. As the plane sped up and the little cars and mountains and shores of my island got left behind and we flew over Active Pass as the the sun was rising and I realized what a beautiful place I was leaving (once again), I also realized what a beautiful place I'm heading towards.
I felt sad as I saw this past chapter of my life framed by rectangular glass and I tried to tell myself it's ok. That it's ok because my dream is coming true, but I was sad because the place I was leaving was once my dream too, and
The memories of then and now will be separated by different frames, mediated by that little rectangle. Different walls and a different roof and although I'd been counting down to yesterday since a day undetermined that felt so determined back then, there was no way to prepare.
But I have never been more at peace with a decision. As I sit here in my Oma and Opa's house, eyes burning with jet lag and stomach upset with the airplane food, I couldn't be happier. India, I can't wait to meet you.
 |
| Oma and Opa's street |
 |
| 'Never thought' |
 |
| My sister, me and my cousin |
 |
| Dunes, beach, ocean <3 |
Friday, August 9, 2013
Sunday, August 4, 2013
Beautiful last days
This weekend has been perfect. I feel complete. I can't imagine a better way to spend my last days here. Whatever Victoria means to me, this weekend captured it. Sunshine and kitchens filled with spices and orange couches and cats on rooftops and old friends and new friends.
Saturday night I went swing dancing. Somewhere between the beautiful improvisation, strangers asking you to dance and getting jammed I remembered that maybe I want to travel to understand why I want to stay for nights like that, like I once read. Nights like those.
Today I got together with a big group of good friends to have a afternoon filled with farewells. We listened to live music, jumped in the ocean on a whim and dried our ocean-drenched-sun-drenched hair hair sitting on the beach building things out of the rocks and talking. Afterwards I biked with a friend around town getting ingredients for pesto before going over to her house and making a wonderful dinner with salad from the garden and chai tea and the sunset in her front yard.
Biked home with the sounds of fireworks in the distance with the celebrations coming to an end in the city and orange being chased by darker and darker blue in the sky.
Saturday night I went swing dancing. Somewhere between the beautiful improvisation, strangers asking you to dance and getting jammed I remembered that maybe I want to travel to understand why I want to stay for nights like that, like I once read. Nights like those.
Today I got together with a big group of good friends to have a afternoon filled with farewells. We listened to live music, jumped in the ocean on a whim and dried our ocean-drenched-sun-drenched hair hair sitting on the beach building things out of the rocks and talking. Afterwards I biked with a friend around town getting ingredients for pesto before going over to her house and making a wonderful dinner with salad from the garden and chai tea and the sunset in her front yard.
Biked home with the sounds of fireworks in the distance with the celebrations coming to an end in the city and orange being chased by darker and darker blue in the sky.
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