Goodbye, Hello

Goodbyes are never easy, especially when I am involved. I have never experienced a goodbye that did not involve at least a couple tears. Leaving India was no exception. I cried when a group of people left at 4 AM, I cried the day before everyone left when we were driving to the temples with Ramesh and Baldev, and I cried the entire ride to the airport, and most of the first plane ride to Mumbai. The people around me most of thought I was psychotic. I am so bad at goodbyes because I get attached to places, memories, and friends really easily - which is pretty ironic considering I can never hold onto a romantic relationship for more than a month or two without getting bored. Go figure.

But leaving India was one of the hardest things I have ever experienced. Leaving Ann Arbor or White Plains is sad, but I always know they will be there when I get back. I also have email addresses and phone numbers of all my college and high school friends. The people I met in India do not have Internet, and they live nearly 7,000 miles from me. I may never see them again (even though my horoscope did say I would return to India in 1.5 years). Although I have phone numbers for a bunch of my Indian friends, that does not mean there are not astronomical international phone charges. I guess what makes it even harder is that if I do keep in phone contact with a couple of them (cough Naresh cough), still who knows if I will see him again? And isn't it worse to keep up contact without the possibility of meeting again? Or is that the point - to hope to meet again without any expectations? I don't know.

My month-long excursion in India was a learning process, and I would never give a second of it back. I loved nearly everyone I met there, and I believe almost everyone I met had something to offer or to teach me. Don't get me wrong, not every minute was perfect or wonderful. There were situations that were frustrating, and times where I wanted nothing more than to turn on some music, be by myself and eat a burger. But those times were few and far between. I know I will miss the nights I spent staring at the stars while listening to the chords of Louis' guitar, with everyone talking and laughing about whatever was on our minds. I made some best friends by the end of the month, and luckily some of them I will get the opportunity to see again. But there will never be a night-sky or a palace balcony like there was in Dhrangadhra. The nights we drove into town in Naresh's rickshaw to get ice cream, and the detours we took to his family's house or to walk in the gardens and smoke a cigarette are also some of my favorite memories. I hope to be able to remember the smell of smoke and cow shit mixed with frying panchea that surrounded the rickshaw as we would drive down the streets - but I can't know I will.

I wish you could just slow down time - video tape sound, smell, feelings, and thoughts - so that you could just go back in time and stay there for a while. The best part about that would be that you could come and go as you please. But everyone knows that life is not like that. Life would not be life without goodbyes, hellos, endings, or beginnings. And if things never ended, would anything be worthwhile? If I never had to leave Dhrangadhra, would I have been able to savour the experience as much as I did? Probably not. As much as I wish it didn't end, I would never know how much I loved India or the people I met within it if I hadn't been forced to leave. You never know how much you love something until it is gone. But thankfully, now I have a family in India and a family in Pennsylvania to add to my repertoire. And if I start missing my friends in Dhrangadhra, I just have to close my eyes and think back to that last day with the staff going from temple to temple - being tired, but never wanting it to end for fear that when it did end it would mean it was really time to go home. And I know I never wanted to go home.

Monkeying Around

You know how I always said I wanted to tryout for the real world? Turns out I don't need to anymore because I am currently in Real World: Dhrangadra, but instead of having 7 strangers I have 13. Being stuck in a palace during siesta hours (the hottest part of the day) really causes peoples' true thoughts/feelings/actions to come out. It is actually kind of amusing.

Yesterday we found two monkeys on the top of our palace. For an hour at least we watched tried to get them to come down by throwing rocks at them. They eventually came swinging down and we scattered every time for fear that they would start chasing us. Not going to lie, it was pretty exhilarating. At the same time the sky got very dark, and it looked like rain clouds were coming in. But of course we are in the middle of a heat wave, so none of us expected the rain that appeared within the next half hour. Apparently it was the first time it had rained in 6 months. It was incredible - the sky was gorgeous because as the sun set it was still dark with the hint of rain clouds. People who were in town when the rains started said that the kids all ran into the middle of the street jumping up and down and screaming with joy. I kind of wish I had gotten to see that. I thought the rain was fantastic, and secretly I hope we have a small scale monsoon so that I can call Camp Hillard and say I can't come into work because I am stuck in India in a monsoon. That is an excuse if I have ever heard one!

Funny story: If any of you know me, a lot of people at school make fun of me for being able to walk anywhere and run into at least five people I know on the way, and actually stop and have a conversation with each of them. Well, last week (at least I think it was last week but who knows since sense of time is pretty much out the window right now) I was riding in a rickshaw with Diana and Kelly, and walking down the street I see the wife of Mehule (the music instructor). I waved to her and she waved back! I ran into someone I knew on a random street in Gujarat, India. Freaking great. Also, every time we go to Vadilal for ice cream (a place similar to a soda pop shop) we see Naresh (whose other name is Manu) - the coolest rickshaw driver. He just is able to find us nearly every time we go somewhere. Its pretty awesome.

Last week I got henna on my left arm and both my ankles/feet, but it is starting to fade. I may decide to get my hand done again before I go back home but I am not sure. I think we are all pretty henna-ed out right now. I believe I have also hit around the 1000 picture mark, or at least that is what my Iphoto tells me. Get ready for some epic facebook picture albums when I get back. It is hard to believe we only have a week and a half left here. I feel like we just got here! I already know that it will be terribly difficult to leave this place and the people I have met here behind. I mean where else will I get to fall asleep outside on the balcony of a palace on a cot under the stars listening to the lone chords of a guitar?