I haven’t written a single sentence since before I packed my families lives into 15 suitcases, moved a stranger into our family home, adopted out our beloved family pets and farm animals, sold our cars.. and then.. set off for India. Nearly 6 months ago I did the unimaginable for most Americans, I abandoned “the dream”.
My absence was mostly due to having had thought it would be a good idea to research other blog posts and writing sites, you know, to get a feel for my new craft. This has resulted in a writer’s block of epic anxiety and criticism. Now, all I do is compare my writing style to the literary genius of the world and criticize my own thought patterns till all I can say, let alone write, is “whimper”… Well, Fuck it. A new friend has introduced me to Grammarly. I will do my best BUT, there are No promises. Call me on this crap though, really, how else can I improve? ( James.. Barb..Jesikah)
Goodbye, house.
Goodbye, memories…
This was a little bit more impactful a goodbye than I’ve yet experienced. Those both in and not in these pics. The heaviness was a surprise. It was easy for us to leave the house, we were ready for something new, but over the past couple decades… I have truly found my family of choice. These ladies ( Rebecca, Tristi, Sarah, Katie, Kathy and Aubry ) are my heart and soul. Leaving them was like… well, it was heart-wrenching loss type tears. I love my ladies.
dorks love big
Heathrow Airport and all the Gordon Ramsey food we could eat…
Arrival to sunrise… this after a mind-numbingly crazy 3-hour car ride up mountain passes in traffic that has no regulations … at all.
The flight itself was great, as we bumped our seats to business class. Very comfortable. Very posh, very smooth. Good thing, as it would be the last time everything would move like a sexy dream for us.
It’s hard to describe all the nuances to India. Honestly, my opinion varies day by day. I was once told by another expat that you will have “good” India days and “bad” India days. Understatement of the year. I have had days where I would swear I never want to see the U.S. again, I mean, because I fucking LOVE this bohemian, spiritually advanced society of calm, even tempered gurus. Then I have days, like today, where I can NOT wait to escape my exile and be away from all the needy fucking thieves that, with a kind smile and a wink, take you for everything you’re worth. Days, where every stranger on the street is a friend and adventure awaits…to Days, where I am assaulted by old women who punch me in the forehead with “blessed bindi” ( “tiklee” in Marathi ) then god damn if you better pay them for it or they will dog your every step till your forced to sick your possie on them. (Thanks, Pete.) AND Days like today, when you find out state agencies can debit large amounts of money from your bank accounts without any notice. Yeah, fuck right the fuck off. Where I come from, that’s called stealing.
I’ll stop that right here, otherwise, I will unleash a tirade of profanity and ill will the likes of which will make even Trump blush. Nasty woman that I am. (snicker)
Biggest challenges we have faced thus far, obviously the language barrier. Whereas English is widely spoken and understood, it’s not always an easy experience. Most Americans can attest, as we are a nation of nations, sometimes, important details get lost in translation. Details like, “I’m allergic to plantains” and “please, no, really, hot pink is not my color.” My, albeit weak, efforts to start learning Hindi have not been very successful as the words go in and 5 minutes later are complete and irrevocably gone from all recall. I CAN say that my observation of body language has , I think, greatly improved. Now, as opposed to when I was fresh off the boat, my blatantly entitled American senses don’t take quite such offense to close quartered heated in your face gibberish. Today, nearly 6 months later, the heated gibberish seems like conversational gibberish and the close quarters aren’t really a problem anymore.
I won’t say too much about the bureaucracy… it literally reminds me of Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy. It’s a hell that has no real words…. except perhaps.. dark ages.
I think the next most challenging experience for me has been trying to navigate my American predispositions about what we have so lovingly termed “third world country.” There is no shame in poverty here. No stupid ideology about where one should be at any given point in their lives. Even the naked kids on the street living under tarps on sidewalk corners smile and play and are surrounded by loved ones. I’m guessing they are none the worse for not having the pressures of fitting in or behaving appropriately. I just bet, their moms and dads are not going without when it comes to the in-fucking-sain laws and 7q regulations that are daily life struggles for any average American family. No pressures for tests or milestones or behavior…. just childhood. In India, in general, that is a sacred blessing. Celebrated by festivals like Raksha Bandhan where brothers and sister have a special ritual they perform honoring each other and their sacred bonds as a family.
Seeker Momma 