This morning I woke up at 6:00 A.M. in my bed in Utah. I realized I was home (which was probably why I was so comfortable . . . a real live mattress!) Since I'm jet-lagged and can't go back to sleep, let me write one final post about my incredible adventure in India.
It's hard to really describe the experience I had the last 6 weeks in India. Life-changing? Yes, but how do you really write that out? Without taking you from our home in West Marredpally down to the bus stop, then to Baliginagar and the surrounding slums, I don't think you would truly understand what I've seen. How could you possibly understand how miserable our bus rides on the 211M could be? Or how that was also one of my favorite places, because when I got a seat, I felt like that was when I truly saw India?
Without taking you to my piano lessons, I don't think you can feel the happiness in Usha's smile, comprehend the tears welling up in Saritha's eyes when she plays out of the regular hymnbook for the first time, or feel my joy at being able to teach music, in India of all places!
Without taking you on a rickshaw, I don't think you can relate to the almost nauseating lack of traffic law, or how the beggars can walk right up to you at a stop light, grab your arm and if you refuse to look at them, pinch you. Hard.
I don't think you can visualize all the shops, advertisements, and the garbage everywhere. Everywhere.
And the smell. How do you describe the smells of India, one minute walking by a mountain of garbage, the next moment a stand of jasmine flowers? How do you describe the constant honking, the sounds of vendors, the sounds of chanting? How can you taste the food I tasted, the wonderful chicken biryani made by Jaya, or the exceedinly spicy noodles in Jaipur?
And most of all, how can I explain the beautiful people of India to you? How can I tell you about how adorable the school children were in their school uniforms, and how they would wave to us and say hello? And the gorgeous women, with a baby on their hip, or a water pot on their heads. And still dressed in their best saree and bangles with their hair neatly braided, despite their poverty.
Or Jaya, Poojitha, and Ruchita? My best friends in India.
But here, I will try:
It's hard to really describe the experience I had the last 6 weeks in India. Life-changing? Yes, but how do you really write that out? Without taking you from our home in West Marredpally down to the bus stop, then to Baliginagar and the surrounding slums, I don't think you would truly understand what I've seen. How could you possibly understand how miserable our bus rides on the 211M could be? Or how that was also one of my favorite places, because when I got a seat, I felt like that was when I truly saw India?
Without taking you to my piano lessons, I don't think you can feel the happiness in Usha's smile, comprehend the tears welling up in Saritha's eyes when she plays out of the regular hymnbook for the first time, or feel my joy at being able to teach music, in India of all places!
Without taking you on a rickshaw, I don't think you can relate to the almost nauseating lack of traffic law, or how the beggars can walk right up to you at a stop light, grab your arm and if you refuse to look at them, pinch you. Hard.
I don't think you can visualize all the shops, advertisements, and the garbage everywhere. Everywhere.
And the smell. How do you describe the smells of India, one minute walking by a mountain of garbage, the next moment a stand of jasmine flowers? How do you describe the constant honking, the sounds of vendors, the sounds of chanting? How can you taste the food I tasted, the wonderful chicken biryani made by Jaya, or the exceedinly spicy noodles in Jaipur?
And most of all, how can I explain the beautiful people of India to you? How can I tell you about how adorable the school children were in their school uniforms, and how they would wave to us and say hello? And the gorgeous women, with a baby on their hip, or a water pot on their heads. And still dressed in their best saree and bangles with their hair neatly braided, despite their poverty.
Or Jaya, Poojitha, and Ruchita? My best friends in India.
But here, I will try:
Home sweet home for some in the slums
Standard filth
Being asked to take pictures with Indians, I'm a celebrity cause I'm white
Garbage pile near our home
Rick-shaws
Mahesh
Becoming best friends with the locals
Walking with the SAPID ladies, Urmi and Mary
The children attacking me, asking me to take a picture of them
Friday market near our home
Braids
Wisdom
Taj Mahal
Rice and curry, eaten with my hands
Finished school mural
Riding an elephant
Piano recital. Usha (left), Saritha (right)
Jaya, Poojitha, Ruchita
Welcome
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