Life at a United World College in India

Wednesday, December 18, 2013

Out of the bubble

More than 3 months of living in India. Of the smell of Saturday violin rosin fading from my fingertips and and the smell of Wednesday sitar oil replacing it, chasing it away and by now my callouses have remolded themselves to fit the new kind of string that comes along with that even though it hurt in the beginning and I would bleed and run to my roomie and she'd kiss it and give me chocolate.

8 weeks ago I was 3800 meters up, blistering in the Himalayan air, blistering as I summitted another 300 meter climb only to go back down on the other side. With 15 kg on my back, wearing the shirt I hadn't taken off for 5 days and sweat raining from my temples, I cheered as the campsite finally came into sight and another 8 hour day came to an end. Project week is now over but the taste of the blue glacial water and the taste of ash in the chapatis we made over the fire and the taste of the ginger chai we got from one of the villages hasn't quite faded yet because the mountains had me in love and I think those boots fit me a little too well. Sitting with my feet in the river that followed us along the valley, watching the sunset as dozens of little bells signaled a goat herder was passing through and humming Shady Grove under my breath, I finally had time to reflect on me in India, something I had forgotten to do, shoved under the dirty laundry at the back of my closet.

Hampi was sitting in weird mattress restaurants and little seedpod boats and barefoot on rocks by a temple and jumping into a lake and on a motorcycle that might as well have been a bicycle and drinking coconuts and wondering if you can eat them too and then the lady smashes it and the answer is no and we move on.

The last few weeks on the hill were the worst and the best but it means that I am invested enough in this place. Tea is glue and so is apple cider and I've finally come to terms with the new kind of branches that shade me here and also did you know the people here are beautiful? I do.

12 nights ago I arrived with my Bangladeshi roommate Safieh in Dhaka, her home. There is a gentleness in the crowds that push and the bright rickshaws with three wheels that travel these crazy roads that look like birds of paradise. 2 more nights and I'm leaving for Sri Lanka for 2 weeks. Numbers numbers.

I think I do feel different. 3 months ago I was only just embarking on an adventure that I kind of thought I understood but I didn't have a clue I really didn't and now my hair is shorter and my eyes a little older and a little happier I think or at least they understand more and my feet a lot dirtier and my lips chapped from all the new words I've spoken, words and questions that I didn't know existed or maybe I did but I never knew how to ask
and I am grateful.
Cannot wait to hug everyone safe and sound back on campus.
Love to you.