It’s been three weeks since leaving home, two weeks since arriving in Bangalore and one week since I turned 22.
I’ve lived here a lifetime and a day, seen enough to take home years of experience and yet still have so much to learn. I’ve eaten chai and curry, downed whole peppers and “authentic” American pizza that also boasted baked beans and I’m pretty sure was the farthest thing from normal. I’ve seen wealthy people eating meals fit for kings and been invited into the slums to stand next to the destitute who will be going hungry again tonight.
Three weeks ago, I braided my hair and mentally calculated the things I had forgotten. Two weeks ago, I tried to wash the same hair but mostly just wanted to survive the long night in the airport. One week ago I would have done anything to go back home and celebrate the completion of my 21st year with people knew and loved, but somehow my team managed to make it a night for the record books despite my bad attitude.
We’re three weeks in- only forty five to go.
At three weeks in, I’ve already decided to catch the next flight home more times than I’m willing to admit and also felt so completely, overwhelmingly convinced that this is where I’m supposed to be. I miss home so much I could- and do frequently- cry, but when a 4 year old boy comes and sits on my lap and kisses my cheek I’m moved to tears of a different variety.
I wish I could erase the things I’ve seen, but I already know these faces have been etched onto my heart for the rest of my life. It’s a burden that needs to be carried, but ignorance will always be bliss.
[Note: I am now going to post all of the blogs that have been accumulating as I was without internet the last 2 weeks. bear with me. Pictures will be coming once all the blogs are posted. Promise. 🙂 ]
