Being home from India has been amazing. Even though I miss Mumbai and mostly reflect on it fondly, it was definitely time to come back. The last few weeks, I've been singing, resting, attending weddings and dancing all night, catching up on Mad Men (mmmmmmm!), reading poetry, recovering from illnesses which followed me home (a parasitic worm? who knows. Oh, India), reconnecting with great people, vacationing, and re-acclimating myself to life on this side of the world (Hulu.com really is great).
I spent this past weekend in Hilton Head, SC with my family. Special thanks to my Dad who made it a point to take this trip while I was in town as one last family blast before I head off to graduate school in a few weeks.
Here are a few snapshot observations from this weekend...
Standing on the beach in perfect weather, watching the sunset, and my dad saying "it really doesn't get better than this;" constantly snacking on amazing food; overhearing Bailey's giggling from the other room; admiring a sand castle, then noticing an old man was building it; lounging in the pool and talking to Vikas about my wedding and whether it will be on a cruise or a destination wedding (even though some important details are yet undecided including who I'll marry); running my fingers through the big, bouncy, crusty curls of my beach hair; being woken up by an enthusiastic Bailey every morning; keeping hilarious "that's what she said" jokes to myself; witnessing the extraordinary sight of pelicans nose-diving into the ocean like fighter jets; having conversations about astronomy with my Dad while bobbing with the waves in the ocean; and clinking our red wine glasses in a toast to family and to best wishes on my next steps.
This has been my life the last few days and it's been nothing short of perfect. India was good...but so is this.
I don't even know where to start. As much as I've hoped for this moment when I'd reach the end of this road, my arrival is bitter sweet. But arrived, I have. I'm a different person than the one who showed up here about a year ago. I made it. Through all the mattress travails, the mosquitoes, the experiences of every consistency and shade of bowel movement (believe it), the depths of loneliness, the heartache of music, the anguish, the beach, the power of love for a Land, and falling asleep to the voice of God I indeed conquered.
India, I've been lost and found and lost again. I have loved you, and hated you, and loved you again. Every time, you've pulled me closer, and I'm managing to escape your clutches for just a little while.
I'll be back soon, and we'll be together again.
thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you... all my heart, my soul, my love, alas, my everything to You. s
I cannot count the ways this experience was meaningful and special because of you. Thank you, thank you, thank you. I hope you enjoy yourself and indulge a little today. You've earned it!
lots of love and see you soon!! (like 4 days soon!)
shelley
Hi all,
In March, I got pretty ill in India and went home to Atlanta for some r&r. Actually, I had plans to go home for about 10 days for my grandpa's 90th birthday (pic of us from the event below) but as the date of my return neared, I got so sick - home sick, physically sick, emotionally sick, every kind of sick. All of a sudden India had become a toxic environment for me and I needed OUT. So, I got home and instead of just 10 days, I took a whole 2 months to recover. And recover I did.
It was a good few weeks at home, enjoying familiars like baked potatoes, driving on the right hand side of the road, eye contact, trash cans, straight forward communication, and margaritas. I didn't realize how much I missed certain things about my life in the States. I was recovering from feeling starved physically (I cut my dress size in half after 7 months of being here), and emotionally (I missed my friends, and getting to be multi-dimensional again was a relief).
Anyway, that's all to say that I'm back in Mumbai now, recharged and ready to take on another few weeks at the school. Most importantly, I'm back because I have exams in just a few weeks (eeek! t-16 days and counting!), and I need to make up for lost time that I didn't practice back at home. I'm trying not to beat myself up over not practicing as much at home because the truth is, I was super burned out. 6-8 hours a day of singing (or doing any one thing, I'd speculate) is exhausting, believe it or not. Now that I'm back, it's nose to the grindstone, just me and my books and the harmonium. I'm trying to stay focused knowing that I have one last shot at making everything right here. But I've also struck a balance. Listen Mumbai, I'm going to enjoy these last few weeks if it means eating out for lunch and enjoying the AC for an hour a day. I'm roughing it, but I'm also keeping things from being unbearable, basically.
My Juhu Beach walks are again part of my routine, as are the 6 AM practices, dog pee in the hallways, uncomfortable smells, and Subway sandwiches.
Not a whole lot has changed around here...except for me. I'm going to kick this exam's ass and call it a (long and successful) day.
love
shelley
p.s. I'd love to hear from you all now that the blog is back!
I'm including this video for your listening pleasure as your read this post. (available on original post, only, not RSS, sorry!)
Lately, me and India have been going through a rough patch. I'm optimistic and I'm calling our first mini fight, but India's been unwilling to listen to me lately during our little spats. Let me explain.
I've been struggling with two exhausting issues. First, is loneliness which I've bored you about before. But this feels different, more intense. Don't get me wrong, I don't sit in my room and cry about it all the time (at least not every day), but I do wonder how I can love a place so much and want to spend my whole life here, but then not feel like I have much (any) community here.
Let's put it this way: The thought of leaving here makes my heart ache. Imaging myself roaming about in the US (or anywhere else) makes me gasp for air like I'm drowning in sorrow before I catch myself and remember that I'm still here and there's no need to go there yet in my head or in my heart. It's the kind of heart ache that feels so good for right now, because I'm in the comfort of India's arms -- the comfort of the smells, the Bollywood ringtones, the Hindi slang, the auto rickshaws, the street food, the silk saris. I want to spend my last days here. I want to die here. If I can, I want to spend the rest of forever here. I need to be connected, not just spiritually and emotionally, but physically to this land. I want my ashes scattered here, and I want my scions to Know this Place as theirs.
But, how can I make that happen if I feel at home here and also so alone? Seeing a crowd of people walking down the street with their black-haired heads bobbing in front of me makes me sigh and think "ahhhh....these are my people." But then, "my people" aren't really here. I got to witness two old friends meeting for the first time in months two weeks ago. Seeing that first embrace and the disbelief that the other was standing there in the flesh, that cheek-to-cheek smile, that total understanding and surrender that only comes from seeing someone who you can be your whole Self around made me...I don't know. At once happy for them and happy for the world that such relationships exist, but also sad that I have felt that before, but don't have that here at all. I miss my people. I miss car rides with Jodi where we eat ice cream, drink coca-cola, and talk about the End Times. I miss going to Target with Leise and making fun of everything. I miss hanging out on the lawn at the Cave. I miss the distinct smell of the garage at Helmer road that I'd recognize with a blindfold on. I miss counting on pals to be there through thick and thin. I want to have my friends around who I can cry in front of. No masks, no guards, just Me. Not mostly Me, but totally Me. The closest I have come is my dearest Yashna who can relate to my frustrations on practically every level. But getting to know her has been like a small taste of a deep friendship which has left me craving more just as she's leaving next week.
I want to be here so badly, but it doesn't make sense to do it when all my friends and family aren't here. And I can't have both, so I have some serious decisions coming up. I don't know how I can leave India behind, though. I console myself about June by thinking about how graduate school is just for 2 or 3 years but then I can zip right back here.
Last time I left India, here's what I wrote:
I knew that I'd miss it when I got back...and I do. It's just not the same here. I'm just waiting to get through school, graduate in December, and go back as soon as I can. I want to go back and see it all again, but this time soak up even more the tastes, the smells, the sounds. *sigh* I miss it. It's in my dreams, it's in my heart. India, I love you.
Everything will be the same, except more intense, I'm guessing.
In the meantime, I'm working on how to reconcile that and also not worry about it too much because I still have 6 months here to eat pani puri to my heart's content.
The other issue that's been plaguing me -- literally -- is some weird allergic reaction that's been persisting for about a week and a half. My friend teases me and asks "How's your rash?" which makes me sound like some walking, diseased creature and reminds me of those embarrassing pages over the intercoms that kids got in homeroom in middle school. I think it's dust mites, or maybe scabies. After I spent the last two days painstakingly sanitizing everything -- sheets, room, cupboards, bathroom, every article of clothing, me -- and it still wasn't gone this morning, I cried really hot tears of frustration and rage. I was livid about these dumb critters which won't go away, about the lengths that I went to yesterday in the hopes that it would work, and that I had to do it all alone which was maybe the worst part. I called my mom and she said she'd send me a ticket to come home which she meant comfortingly, but made me even more pissed, of course. But I went to see a dermatologist at the hospital today (first time at an international hospital and all I can do is write in my book over and over how grateful I am to have to resources to waltz into a place like that and get first class treatment), and he said that it might be some parasitic worm or something, which he gave me meds for.
OK, THAT'S IT. I mean come on, India. I just announced to the world on the internet, and I'd stand on the top of any building to proclaim my love for you. And this is what I get in return?? Come on! My friend Pat compares everything to a bad boyfriend, and that's exactly what this India is turning out to be. I thought we had something here. You, India, keep crapping on me and taking advantage of me, and I, hopelessly smitten and blinded by love, keep crawling back. I swear, if I have a parasitic worm that looks like this roaming around in my stomach, I will seriously consider breaking up with You. (Trouble is, even something that disgusting is no guarantee of me walking away, I'm so in love.) It's rather pathetic the kind of abuse that I'm taking from India and I still keep coming back for more.
Pray for me that it's not a worm or something worse because I really really want this fight to end. Oh, and also, I want to get better soon and not have random itchy outbreaks. Yeah, that too.
Charlie Brown, you said it best: "Nothing takes the taste out of peanut butter quite like unrequited love."
shelley
p.s. sidenote: I banged out some of this frustration on Mansi today and she was awesome. I haven't even begun to explore the depths of music...
Happy New Year, everyone! Details later on how I rang in the new year, but for the time being, let's just leave it at "pretty rough morning in class" :) A fun night, nonetheless.
When I was a kid, the thought of the year "twenty-ten" sounded so distant, like I might not ever be old enough to see a twenty-something year. But, here we are. Still, I'm a little bit surprised that this decade isn't more futuristic. I was sort of expecting a Jetsons lifestyle.
Here's some lines off a favorite tee that I got on threadless:
they lied to us. this was supposed to be the future.
where is my jetpack,
where is my robotic companion, where is my dinner in pill form, where is my hydrogen fueled automobile where is my nuclear powered levitating house.
where is my cure for this disease.
-------
Well, i don't feel so pessimistic about 2010 or the future, at least not in this moment. I think that this year is going to be full of blessings and challenges, and hopefully lots of both. Wishing everyone out there the best damn decade ever.
and also, India, I love you. Thanks for letting me celebrate my new year with you, s
Lots to catch up on here including pics and vids from a successful Annual Day, details about my exam (which I whooped), and a general recap of my experience at the 5 month mark. I only have a few min right now, but I wanted to share a quick thought.
I thought I'd never admit this, but I'm lonely and missing home. Caveat: only missing home a teeny weeny bit, and I'm not really missing the USA. What I mean is, I'm missing people I connect with, people my age, and people who think like me. I want to have a conversation with someone about a Post-colonial critique of poor Indian children selling Santa hats on the street in Mumbai on Dec 24. Or about third world feminist identity. Or about going back to grad school. Or about painting. Or even about music if I could just meet someone who knew Erykah Badu. Honestly, there's too much about me that never gets expressed here that no one else I know can relate to. It might be a mixed blessing that I don't appreciate just yet.
Basically, I'm saying: Friends, you are missed like whoa. My friend, Nichole, wrote this to me some months ago after reading my blog:
"take care and remember: there's a difference between loneliness and being alone...one is a condition of the heart (often permanent) and the other is a temporary, character-building endeavor that teaches us how to be more human."
I can only hope that I'm battling the latter and just learning to be more human?
Blah. Being human is overrated.
Right now, loneliness is my Kryptonite.
Music, take me away.
s
The lines to that song were ringing in my ears today as I drank a celebratory Coca Cola on the beach alone, looking out over the sunset. Even though the rest of the words to the song don't exactly fit, it was kind of perfect.
Today, I got an envelope in the mail with the address written in my Dad's familiar handwriting. I ran up to my room, locked the door behind me, and sat with it for a few moments. I couldn't believe what I was about to see. My heart was in my throat when I opened it, and out tumbled two little booklets. One -- a navy blue one with a gold seal on the front that I used to keep tucked away in a pocket of a duffel bag in DC in case I needed to up and run away somewhere instantly -- is also known as my passport. The other one is blue, too -- the same color blue as those seats on the trains in India that makes me just melt -- and also has a golden seal on it, but it's for "The Republic of India."
I'm a dual citizen, friends! It's official! I know I mentioned it in a previous post, but holding those sacred government-sanctioned documents (do I even believe in government?? well, I do at least for the purpose of getting to stay in India ;-D) was more than I could ask for from this already awesome week.
Here's a pic of my new goodies. I didn't get a pic of me holding them, but imagine tears + my Pani Puri face. Something like this --> :D
Under "validity" of my new Indian visa, it says "lifelong." Yeah, I just about lost my breath over that one. Now, the only thing keeping me from staying here for ever and ever and ever is...me. It's totally up to me. For everyone who keeps asking me when I'm coming back "home," I am at home. And if you mean to ask when I'm coming back, my answer is, "I'm never, ever leaving. At least not in my heart." And now my body can stay too if I want.
India, it's you and me, Baby, one way or another until the very end of my days.
shelley
The staring here is out of control. I mean, people glare and crane their necks long after they've passed me, even at the risk of bumping into something I front of them, to size me up. They stand in groups and tap their friends on the shoulder to point at me and comment. Sometimes the women whisper to each other and stare with so much disdain, it makes me look down and think wait, I didn't actually leave the house wearing a miniskirt, right?? Do I look like a hooker? Or am I not wearing a shirt at all or something? I really did put on a salwaar kameez today like every other day, right?? It's bad.
When I first got to Mexico, I was surprised by how the men stared. I realized that it was because I must have been a somewhat rare sight for many of them: a young woman, walking around alone. Plus, most of them assumed I was Mexican, so if they stared, they were giving me the totally creepy, "Oye mamacita, I would do anything to be with you right now if you just said yes even though I have a wife and kids back home" look, not the "hello tourist, how are you? How can we make your stay enjoyable?" look. It wasn't just to me, though, obviously. It was to every woman under 40, if I had to guess. I felt uncomfortable a lot of the time, but I learned to wear long sleeves and I mastered my cold face which responded "if you come one step closer or fantasize for a moment that I am attracted by your gestured proposition, I will kick you in your cajones." It must have been that mean since the guys backed off a little bit.
India's different though. They stare for different reasons. Here, they're trying to place me. They're curious and are trying to take in as much about me as possible so they can hurry up and pass judgment. All this speculating and condemning must be completed in about 10 seconds (sometimes 15 or 20 depending on how flexible their necks are and on how fast I'm walking), so it's intense. I remember a few years ago when I came for about 2 weeks, I arrived having decided that I would stare back. I remember planning it all out when I was packing my clothes for the trip and making the conscious decision that I would definitely glare back and make them so uncomfortable that they'd avert their eyes first. In the 14 days I was here, I didn't win a single one of my private little contests. Not a single. I'd try and stare back and the men (especially) would either look so offended that I dared to give them a cold look (because of course they have every right to check me out, size me up, make me feel uncomfortable with their greedy eyes) that I thought they'd march over to me and kick my ass (or harm me even worse) OR they'd be turned on which was most definitely not what I was going for. So every time, I'd have to look away because I didn't want to be hurt.
This time, I didn't think about it really. Honestly, I sort of forgot how invasive the staring is until I got here. Anyone I complained to about it said relax, you get used to it. But that wasn't really comforting, either. There's a lot about India that I wanted to get used to, but somehow, feeling violated and uncomfortable when I'm out on my evening walk was not one of them. And the more they stared, the more uncomfortable I got. And the more uncomfy I got, the more out of place I felt. And thus, the more they stared because I looked so awkward, like I didn't belong. It was an ugly cycle.
Somehow, though, along the way, my attitude has changed. I've changed, actually. I'm not adjusting anymore, not feeling like an outsider, not really even feeling out of place out on the street. You know by now how I feel, right? (hint: happy.) I've figured out how to carry myself. It's much less intentional than in Mexico, and I don't have to walk around with the fierce look, even if I'm alone. I really don't even think about it. I look a bit more like I belong. Or at least like I've convinced myself that I belong and that body language and energy seem to have gone a long way. The stares have subsided significantly, but they're still there.
So now, I stare back.
I stare back because I can. Because I've got the gumption to do so. Because I know my way home if anything were to happen. Because I know who to call if anyone messes with me. Because I feel in my element enough to be sassy. Because I frankly don't fear them. It's no longer "What could they do to me?", but "What would they actually do??" And because I've got some good cuss words under my belt.
Plus, with my new found confidence, I like to mess with folks a bit. For one, they don't expect the stare back. It's especially fun to catch someone staring and if they avert their eyes, I keep staring because I'm sure that in a second, they'll turn around for another glance. And when they do, BAM! I catch them again. Sometimes I catch one person 4 or 5 times until they're so ashamed they have to stop. Sometimes, I even give them a thuggish jerk of my shoulders in a gesture of "what? huh? what do you think you're looking at? You got something you want to say to me? Then why don't you come over and say it?" They never do, of course. :)
It's wonderful being on the winning side of this staring competition.
Even more wonderful knowing I'm doing it in India. Bring it!
shelley
...in graduate school applications (applying to environmental/landscape design, sustainable development, and south asian diaspora/migration studies programs), studying for end of term exams (I'm giving a written exam of two years worth of music theory in some 2.5 weeks), and other projects going on at the school (including two or three which were not described in the previous post). More details on the progress of all my work as I have some news. (In the meantime, if you want to send me an encouraging note or just generally good vibes so that I accomplish all of this like the raging rock star i aspire to be, by all means... :D)
i was almost feeling overwhelmed yesterday but then i remembered that i still get to see the beach, sit with Mansi, and enjoy a cup of chai practically every blesséd day.
india, meri jaan...i love you more than I've ever loved anyone or anything.
s
These are some ramblings about the Search for Place. I mostly use this blog as a travel blog and currently, I am at an immersive music academy in India to learn classical Indian singing.
other stuff about me:
http://shelley.chinnan.com,
http://www.chinnan.com/Gallery
http://www.kitabproject.org
photo credit: Kevin Liles (kevinlilesphotography.com)
