We walked through our own door around four o’clock on Wednesday afternoon. After such a long day (or two, really) of travel, we were beyond exhausted. But in an effort to get back on Florida time, we forced ourselves to stay up till eight. We went to the bank, started unpacking, ordered a pizza, and finally let ourselves drift into dreamland. At five a.m., we were wide awake.
Ok, so it will take a few days for us to get back on schedule; at least I don’t have any obligations for another week and a half or so when I head to Illinois to see my family and throw a baby shower for my sister. I can lie on the couch and watch movies or read books while I ease myself back into my normal life.
But poor Brandon went back to work today. He had only Thursday to recover before starting a three-day shift, and I know he’s not feeling too happy about being back at work. At least it’s not so hard getting up at five in the morning, though, as it will probably feel like three in the afternoon to him for quite some time.
And while Brandon slaves away at work, I had to cancel my coffee date with my friend Katie earlier this afternoon. I felt absolutely fine all day yesterday, but as I was going to bed, I started experiencing stomach cramps almost as bad as those I’d had in Goa. So it looks like I’m pretty much knocked out on the couch for the next few days, except when I’m up like lightning to get to the bathroom. Coming back from a trip like this sure is difficult.
In a rare moment of calm and comfort earlier today, I was thinking about how hard our bodies are working to get India out of their systems. And I had to wonder if that’s simply because our hearts are having such a hard time letting go. Yes, I was thrilled to walk through my front door on Wednesday afternoon. I have enjoyed sleeping in an air-conditioned house on a pillow-top mattress for the past two nights. And I know that Brandon, although he had to go back to work, is glad to be back in the comfort of his reality. But we miss India already – the sights, the sounds, even the smells. Our bodies will eventually get whatever this is out of their systems (and the sooner, the better), but our hearts will hold onto India forever.
It’s kind of saddening to know that, after all of the planning and preparation, the trip has come and gone. But the good news is, it will live in our memories forever.
Brandon and I have now been married for over a year. This blog is drawing to its end, as I realize that I am several days past the point of documenting just my first year of marriage. But what better time to close than now? We have just punctuated the last moments of our first year of marriage with a multitude of exclamation points And, as we come back to a reality that is perhaps not so exhilarating, I am slightly dismayed that all of the excitement and joy of this year – beginning with our beautiful wedding and ending with our incredible trip – is over. But as we begin our second year of marriage, I delight in the fact that, surely, in the many years that Brandon and I still have to spend together, there is so much to look forward to. So many exclamation points to come!
I don’t know what they will be or where or when they will happen, and I certainly don’t want to rush them. Time must take its course, for better (being in India) or worse (being sick on the couch after returning from India).
Brandon and I are no longer newlyweds, but, as our days together pass into years, we are ever more in love. Our first year of marriage was an incredible one, and I have no reason to believe that the second, third, tenth, twentieth, and fiftieth will be any different.
Thank you for joining us on this small portion of our journey. And now we must continue down our path, walking side-by-side, hand-in-hand, writing our love story moment-by-moment.
Friday, July 8, 2011
Wednesday, July 6, 2011
Day 371: Days 20, 21, & 22 of Our Indian Adventure
Our adventure in India is very near over. We are sitting here now, in Mumbai’s airport (more on that later), waiting to check in with Lufthansa and anticipating our return home. It was hard to say goodbye, but now that we are on our way, we are looking forward to returning to our real lives. But before we do so, a few notes on our last few days in India.
Sunday night, after our exhausting but oh-so-fun afternoon with the kids in the dalit village, we went to Achen’s for a sort of goodbye dinner. We ate an amazing meal (as is always the case at Achen’s), after which we just talked and shared and laughed together.
Brandon had brought over his new tablas, and Binu, Achen’s son, who has a small amount of experience playing these drums, tried to teach Brandon the basics. Once Brandon had it down, Binu got out his guitar, and we all played music and sang late into the night.
As we were saying a difficult goodbye, Achen expressed that he and Kochamma felt blessed that they have not only been able to reunite with a daughter but have also now met and grown to love a new son. It meant the world to me to hear that, even after all of the time that has passed and all of the volunteers that have come and gone since it was my turn, Achen and Kochamma think of me – and now us – in that loving way. They were my family for that one year, and they will be a part of my family forever.
On Monday, we had a few loose ends to tie up. In the morning we headed into town on the bus to find a restaurant serving masala dosa. This was always my absolute favorite meal during my stay here five years ago, and, although you can sometimes get it at any hour of the day, it is a breakfast specialty. I’d been talking about it since the moment we arrived in Delhi, but, as it is really a South Indian dish, I’d waited to give Brandon the chance to try it. He liked it but not nearly as much as I do. Still, I think he wouldn’t mind if I were ever able to figure out how to make it at home!
Full and happy (as usual in Kerala), we stopped by some bakeries for take-home snacks like banana chips (no one makes them like the Indians) and Tiger Cookies (you can’t get them at home)! We packed our bags – one full of mostly dirty clothes and one full of our souvenirs and, of course, all those snacks. I hope we don’t get stopped at Customs in Miami!
We also took a drive to Cherai Beach. About a 30-minute taxi ride away, this wasn’t a place I ever visited often, but I probably went four or five times during my year here. It is a quiet beach, with just a few hotels and snack stands that mostly cater to Indians out for the day or taking a weekend away. I just wanted Brandon to see it because it’s a place where I have some special memories, like watching children flying kites with their dads on lazy afternoons; joining with locals on Christmas Eve to honor the one-year anniversary of the 2004 tsunami, which, luckily, did not strike this area directly but certainly did have an indirect, but profound, impact; and watching the sun set beneath the horizon the night before my parents had to go home.
So Brandon and I just walked and watched the waves of the Arabian Sea as they hit the shore.
Later that evening, we went over to Varghese John and Jyothi’s house for one more goodbye dinner. Varghese John was the principal of the college while I was volunteering there; he oversaw the projects I did and helped me adjust to become involved in the college life as much as he could. His wife, Jyothi, was a chemistry professor at the college back then and is now head of the chemistry department there. She and I had always taken to each other, and she used to look out for me the same way a mother would look out for her own child. I was always a welcomed guest in their home, and now I would get the chance to go back there with Brandon.
They made a wonderful dinner for us. We’ve had nothing but good meals here, but I can’t say enough times that the best meals are made in Indian homes. But more than the food, Brandon and I once again enjoyed the wonderful company of our Indian family.
As the night drew closer and closer to its end, we wished for time to move more and more slowly. But the time did come for us to part, and we did, with hopes of returning again someday.
Yesterday morning, we counted out the last of our rupees to pay for our room at Chacko Homes, then headed to the airport in Kochi. We had a flight at 11 that got us into Mumbai around one in the afternoon. Tuesday has only just turned into Wednesday, so, if you do the math, you’ll see that we’ve already been in Mumbai’s airport for 11 hours. We spent the first few hours in a little restaurant (apparently the airport’s only one), eating periodically but mostly playing cards. We then spent the next few hours sitting on the sidewalk outside the international terminal, not wanting to go in because we were warned that there is no water or food inside at all. Now that we are in, we see that this is true. Outside, there wasn’t much, but at least we had some snack stands. But the need for a chair finally outweighed the need to be near food and water, so here we are, waiting for Lufthasa’s desk to open so we can check in. It should be happening any time now. We have a three a.m. flight, so we are down to just three hours out of the 14 we will have spent here. Brandon has come down with a cold and is sleeping soundly in a hard, plastic chair, waking up with a miserable look in his eyes every time someone bumps him into consciousness. It’s hard to think that, after 14 hours in this airport from hell, we still have some 20 hours to fly.
But we will get there, and then I know we will miss all of the things that, at midnight on Day 22 of our Indian adventure, are driving us insane – the noise, the smells, the way they try to fit 20 people in a space meant for 10. At this moment, our cultural tolerance is wearing thin, and we just want to be home. But I bet our bags won’t even be unpacked before we wish we were back in India.
The Lufthansa desk is open, and Brandon is awake. Time to fly home...
Sunday night, after our exhausting but oh-so-fun afternoon with the kids in the dalit village, we went to Achen’s for a sort of goodbye dinner. We ate an amazing meal (as is always the case at Achen’s), after which we just talked and shared and laughed together.
Brandon had brought over his new tablas, and Binu, Achen’s son, who has a small amount of experience playing these drums, tried to teach Brandon the basics. Once Brandon had it down, Binu got out his guitar, and we all played music and sang late into the night.
As we were saying a difficult goodbye, Achen expressed that he and Kochamma felt blessed that they have not only been able to reunite with a daughter but have also now met and grown to love a new son. It meant the world to me to hear that, even after all of the time that has passed and all of the volunteers that have come and gone since it was my turn, Achen and Kochamma think of me – and now us – in that loving way. They were my family for that one year, and they will be a part of my family forever.
On Monday, we had a few loose ends to tie up. In the morning we headed into town on the bus to find a restaurant serving masala dosa. This was always my absolute favorite meal during my stay here five years ago, and, although you can sometimes get it at any hour of the day, it is a breakfast specialty. I’d been talking about it since the moment we arrived in Delhi, but, as it is really a South Indian dish, I’d waited to give Brandon the chance to try it. He liked it but not nearly as much as I do. Still, I think he wouldn’t mind if I were ever able to figure out how to make it at home!
Full and happy (as usual in Kerala), we stopped by some bakeries for take-home snacks like banana chips (no one makes them like the Indians) and Tiger Cookies (you can’t get them at home)! We packed our bags – one full of mostly dirty clothes and one full of our souvenirs and, of course, all those snacks. I hope we don’t get stopped at Customs in Miami!
We also took a drive to Cherai Beach. About a 30-minute taxi ride away, this wasn’t a place I ever visited often, but I probably went four or five times during my year here. It is a quiet beach, with just a few hotels and snack stands that mostly cater to Indians out for the day or taking a weekend away. I just wanted Brandon to see it because it’s a place where I have some special memories, like watching children flying kites with their dads on lazy afternoons; joining with locals on Christmas Eve to honor the one-year anniversary of the 2004 tsunami, which, luckily, did not strike this area directly but certainly did have an indirect, but profound, impact; and watching the sun set beneath the horizon the night before my parents had to go home.
So Brandon and I just walked and watched the waves of the Arabian Sea as they hit the shore.
Later that evening, we went over to Varghese John and Jyothi’s house for one more goodbye dinner. Varghese John was the principal of the college while I was volunteering there; he oversaw the projects I did and helped me adjust to become involved in the college life as much as he could. His wife, Jyothi, was a chemistry professor at the college back then and is now head of the chemistry department there. She and I had always taken to each other, and she used to look out for me the same way a mother would look out for her own child. I was always a welcomed guest in their home, and now I would get the chance to go back there with Brandon.
They made a wonderful dinner for us. We’ve had nothing but good meals here, but I can’t say enough times that the best meals are made in Indian homes. But more than the food, Brandon and I once again enjoyed the wonderful company of our Indian family.
As the night drew closer and closer to its end, we wished for time to move more and more slowly. But the time did come for us to part, and we did, with hopes of returning again someday.
Yesterday morning, we counted out the last of our rupees to pay for our room at Chacko Homes, then headed to the airport in Kochi. We had a flight at 11 that got us into Mumbai around one in the afternoon. Tuesday has only just turned into Wednesday, so, if you do the math, you’ll see that we’ve already been in Mumbai’s airport for 11 hours. We spent the first few hours in a little restaurant (apparently the airport’s only one), eating periodically but mostly playing cards. We then spent the next few hours sitting on the sidewalk outside the international terminal, not wanting to go in because we were warned that there is no water or food inside at all. Now that we are in, we see that this is true. Outside, there wasn’t much, but at least we had some snack stands. But the need for a chair finally outweighed the need to be near food and water, so here we are, waiting for Lufthasa’s desk to open so we can check in. It should be happening any time now. We have a three a.m. flight, so we are down to just three hours out of the 14 we will have spent here. Brandon has come down with a cold and is sleeping soundly in a hard, plastic chair, waking up with a miserable look in his eyes every time someone bumps him into consciousness. It’s hard to think that, after 14 hours in this airport from hell, we still have some 20 hours to fly.
But we will get there, and then I know we will miss all of the things that, at midnight on Day 22 of our Indian adventure, are driving us insane – the noise, the smells, the way they try to fit 20 people in a space meant for 10. At this moment, our cultural tolerance is wearing thin, and we just want to be home. But I bet our bags won’t even be unpacked before we wish we were back in India.
The Lufthansa desk is open, and Brandon is awake. Time to fly home...
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Day 368: Day 19 of Our Indian Adventure
We are now counting down the few short days until our adventure here is over. We do this not in any kind of joyful way, although we are exhausted and definitely in need of our pillow-top mattress. Oh, we are spoiled, aren’t we?
That thought, however, brings me right into the next part of our story. When I was living here five years ago, I made some connections with a dalit community very close to the college and Chacko Homes. In case you are not familiar, the term dalit literally means untouchable. It was based on the Hindu caste system, and, although the designation of such a community of people and the discrimination against them have technically been outlawed in India, there are dalit communities all over the country.
These people live in extreme poverty. As you walk through this neighborhood, you see one-room homes with dirt floors, shared by several generations of a family. Children play with sticks that they pick up from the ground, and they run around without shoes on their feet. Women work hard at washing and cooking, while their men go to hard-labor jobs, if they have one at all. It is abundantly clear that they live with so much less than we do; and yet, if you enter one of these homes, there is barely a moment to say hello before someone is pouring you tea and asking you if you want a snack. You can hardly bear to take anything from the minimal provisions they have; but they won’t let you say no.
Five years ago, I found a place here in this dalit community, going there in the afternoons to tutor the children in English and creating a two-week summer program for them in conjunction with the YWCA, which operates close to their community. I made friends with the mothers as I played with their children and held their bare-bottomed babies. And, since my return to the USA, this has been the part of India that I have missed the most. Isn’t that an incredible thing to say? Of course, I miss traveling and seeing sights, I miss the lazy afternoons of card games and reading in the Chacko Homes courtyard, and I miss my friends at the college and around the community. But I miss the time I spent in the dalit village the most, perhaps because it’s where I felt my presence was the most meaningful, or perhaps because seeing how happy these people were with the small amount they had impacted me so deeply.
Whatever the reason, going back to visit the people in the dalit community was an absolute must on our itinerary. As our plans came together, we decided to fill a suitcase with toys and games to share with them. We brought coloring books and crayons, jump ropes, Frisbees, bubbles, plastic recorders, and kaleidoscopes, and today we took this suitcase full of stuff to the community and gave it to the kids. They were thrilled, and so were we. So much so, in fact, that we ended up hanging out with them, throwing Frisbees around and blowing bubbles, for almost three hours. Brandon, who often claims he isn’t that into kids, didn’t want to leave. And those kids did not want him to. They were jumping on him hanging on him and, in our game of Red Rover, the only real goal for each of the teams was to get him on their own side! It was the cutest thing to hear them say, “Red lober, red lober, Brandon come!” (They never did quite get the rhyme down!!!)
We now have just two nights left in India, and it is starting to hurt a little bit. This is especially true after having spent this special afternoon with the children of the dalit community, most of whom remembered me from five years ago and were absolutely thrilled to see that the white girl was back! I’ll never, ever forget the joyful looks on their faces, as we opened the suitcase and passed out their new toys. I’ll never, ever forget the wonder with which I watched Brandon throwing Frisbees and twirling kids around and finally saying, “Do we really have to leave?”
I feel the same way – do we really have to leave? But we had to leave the dalit village, as we have another commitment tonight; and soon we have to leave India for our real lives 8000 miles away. I am certainly ready for my pillow-top mattress, but, despite the ache in my back, I can’t imagine how I’m ever going to force myself onto that plane that will take me away. I’m just so happy today. I’ve always been so happy here.
That thought, however, brings me right into the next part of our story. When I was living here five years ago, I made some connections with a dalit community very close to the college and Chacko Homes. In case you are not familiar, the term dalit literally means untouchable. It was based on the Hindu caste system, and, although the designation of such a community of people and the discrimination against them have technically been outlawed in India, there are dalit communities all over the country.
These people live in extreme poverty. As you walk through this neighborhood, you see one-room homes with dirt floors, shared by several generations of a family. Children play with sticks that they pick up from the ground, and they run around without shoes on their feet. Women work hard at washing and cooking, while their men go to hard-labor jobs, if they have one at all. It is abundantly clear that they live with so much less than we do; and yet, if you enter one of these homes, there is barely a moment to say hello before someone is pouring you tea and asking you if you want a snack. You can hardly bear to take anything from the minimal provisions they have; but they won’t let you say no.
Five years ago, I found a place here in this dalit community, going there in the afternoons to tutor the children in English and creating a two-week summer program for them in conjunction with the YWCA, which operates close to their community. I made friends with the mothers as I played with their children and held their bare-bottomed babies. And, since my return to the USA, this has been the part of India that I have missed the most. Isn’t that an incredible thing to say? Of course, I miss traveling and seeing sights, I miss the lazy afternoons of card games and reading in the Chacko Homes courtyard, and I miss my friends at the college and around the community. But I miss the time I spent in the dalit village the most, perhaps because it’s where I felt my presence was the most meaningful, or perhaps because seeing how happy these people were with the small amount they had impacted me so deeply.
Whatever the reason, going back to visit the people in the dalit community was an absolute must on our itinerary. As our plans came together, we decided to fill a suitcase with toys and games to share with them. We brought coloring books and crayons, jump ropes, Frisbees, bubbles, plastic recorders, and kaleidoscopes, and today we took this suitcase full of stuff to the community and gave it to the kids. They were thrilled, and so were we. So much so, in fact, that we ended up hanging out with them, throwing Frisbees around and blowing bubbles, for almost three hours. Brandon, who often claims he isn’t that into kids, didn’t want to leave. And those kids did not want him to. They were jumping on him hanging on him and, in our game of Red Rover, the only real goal for each of the teams was to get him on their own side! It was the cutest thing to hear them say, “Red lober, red lober, Brandon come!” (They never did quite get the rhyme down!!!)
We now have just two nights left in India, and it is starting to hurt a little bit. This is especially true after having spent this special afternoon with the children of the dalit community, most of whom remembered me from five years ago and were absolutely thrilled to see that the white girl was back! I’ll never, ever forget the joyful looks on their faces, as we opened the suitcase and passed out their new toys. I’ll never, ever forget the wonder with which I watched Brandon throwing Frisbees and twirling kids around and finally saying, “Do we really have to leave?”
I feel the same way – do we really have to leave? But we had to leave the dalit village, as we have another commitment tonight; and soon we have to leave India for our real lives 8000 miles away. I am certainly ready for my pillow-top mattress, but, despite the ache in my back, I can’t imagine how I’m ever going to force myself onto that plane that will take me away. I’m just so happy today. I’ve always been so happy here.
Saturday, July 2, 2011
Day 367: Days 17 & 18 of Our Indian Adventure
Yesterday morning, we got up early and, after one more delicious and filling meal, we left Kirthy's house for the bus station. We were headed to Kumarakom, where we would rent a houseboat and celebrate our first anniversary in style.
What's that? Oh yes...it is our anniversary. Did you not notice the date???
We got to Kumarakom around noon and boarded our houseboat almost right away. I'd been on one of these houseboats before, when my parents visited me the year I stayed here. And I'd learned that, relative to many Indian accommodations, these houseboats are downright luxurious. You get toilet paper and air conditioning, for one thing. But you also get incredible meals, a truly comfortable bed, and one amazing ride. As far as anniversaries go, I don't know how Brandon and I will ever top this, our first.
We boarded the houseboat and were immediately given coconuts to drink. They say that the purest water on earth comes from inside a coconut. And, although neither of us really likes this "purest water," we took it and made the best of it. Plus, it always makes for cute pictures, standing there holding a coconut!
Once we were settled, we spent the entire afternoon cruising Kerala's backwaters. There really is nothing like it. All around you is water and palm trees. For miles and miles and miles, there is simply nothing else. You might see children playing on the banks, their mothers washing clothes at the edge of the water, or their fathers fishing. But everything is calm and serene, and it all exists as if it were the only place on Earth. Technology is nonexistent; the hurry and bustle of the crowded cities is far, far away; there is just you, your boat crew, and the nature that surrounds you as you slowly cruise down the waterways. And it is absolutely wonderful.
For the entire afternoon, we just let the world go by. They served us fried fish (a Kerala specialty) for lunch and tiger prawns for dinner. We’ve eaten pretty well on this trip, but there have not been any meals like these!!! Plus, you can’t beat the view from this floating restaurant.
We went to bed full and happy, our India trip nearing its end, a full year of marriage behind us, but a lifetime of happiness to look forward to.
As well as we’d slept, it was hard to wake up and get off the boat this morning. But we had another big day ahead of us. We caught a bus from Kumarakom to Kochi, Kerala’s biggest city. Kochi is a place I used to spend a lot of time. It was only about a 45-minute bus ride from Aluva, and I used to go there to shop or just walk around when I felt like getting away. It’s a fantastic place because one part of the city is all tourist sites and quaint shops with old-world charm, where you can buy beautiful souvenirs for next-to-nothing; then, not too far away (a short boat ride and a moderate walk), is a downtown that could be anywhere in the world – big hotels, big stores, big restaurant chains (Pizza Hut, for one).
Brandon and I did all of it today. We started in the old part of town, where we saw a few sites and did some last-minute souvenir shopping. Then we rode the boat to the new part of town, where we walked through the mall, found my favorite bakery (yes, another one), and ended up in a fancy restaurant in a big hotel on the main drag of the downtown. We ate our most expensive meal of our trip there – a fabulous shared entrée of fish curry served over basmati rice and, of course, several beers, all for about 12 dollars. That’s expensive in rupees, but we figured we were still celebrating.
We made it back to Chacko Homes just before they shut the gate for the night, and we are exhausted. Two more thrilling days in India are now a part of our memories forever.
What's that? Oh yes...it is our anniversary. Did you not notice the date???
We got to Kumarakom around noon and boarded our houseboat almost right away. I'd been on one of these houseboats before, when my parents visited me the year I stayed here. And I'd learned that, relative to many Indian accommodations, these houseboats are downright luxurious. You get toilet paper and air conditioning, for one thing. But you also get incredible meals, a truly comfortable bed, and one amazing ride. As far as anniversaries go, I don't know how Brandon and I will ever top this, our first.
We boarded the houseboat and were immediately given coconuts to drink. They say that the purest water on earth comes from inside a coconut. And, although neither of us really likes this "purest water," we took it and made the best of it. Plus, it always makes for cute pictures, standing there holding a coconut!
Once we were settled, we spent the entire afternoon cruising Kerala's backwaters. There really is nothing like it. All around you is water and palm trees. For miles and miles and miles, there is simply nothing else. You might see children playing on the banks, their mothers washing clothes at the edge of the water, or their fathers fishing. But everything is calm and serene, and it all exists as if it were the only place on Earth. Technology is nonexistent; the hurry and bustle of the crowded cities is far, far away; there is just you, your boat crew, and the nature that surrounds you as you slowly cruise down the waterways. And it is absolutely wonderful.
For the entire afternoon, we just let the world go by. They served us fried fish (a Kerala specialty) for lunch and tiger prawns for dinner. We’ve eaten pretty well on this trip, but there have not been any meals like these!!! Plus, you can’t beat the view from this floating restaurant.
We went to bed full and happy, our India trip nearing its end, a full year of marriage behind us, but a lifetime of happiness to look forward to.
As well as we’d slept, it was hard to wake up and get off the boat this morning. But we had another big day ahead of us. We caught a bus from Kumarakom to Kochi, Kerala’s biggest city. Kochi is a place I used to spend a lot of time. It was only about a 45-minute bus ride from Aluva, and I used to go there to shop or just walk around when I felt like getting away. It’s a fantastic place because one part of the city is all tourist sites and quaint shops with old-world charm, where you can buy beautiful souvenirs for next-to-nothing; then, not too far away (a short boat ride and a moderate walk), is a downtown that could be anywhere in the world – big hotels, big stores, big restaurant chains (Pizza Hut, for one).
Brandon and I did all of it today. We started in the old part of town, where we saw a few sites and did some last-minute souvenir shopping. Then we rode the boat to the new part of town, where we walked through the mall, found my favorite bakery (yes, another one), and ended up in a fancy restaurant in a big hotel on the main drag of the downtown. We ate our most expensive meal of our trip there – a fabulous shared entrée of fish curry served over basmati rice and, of course, several beers, all for about 12 dollars. That’s expensive in rupees, but we figured we were still celebrating.
We made it back to Chacko Homes just before they shut the gate for the night, and we are exhausted. Two more thrilling days in India are now a part of our memories forever.
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