I am currently in the Delhi airport. I start off this way, because I wasn't sure if I was going to end up in Delhi earlier this evening. I knew that I was leaving from Dehradun today and originally, my flight was scheduled for 5:00 PM. But my flight was preponed, which really is difficult for an American to understand. I completely forget/didn't register that my flight was scheduled for two hours before the original time. I showed up to the airport as my flight was taking off.
I literally began crying when I realized this. The Jet Airways rep who I was speaking with can only be described as a quintessential dickhead. I hate to use this language on this blog, but I really don't think there's any other way that I could describe the lack of compassion and useless information with which he soaked the Dehradun airport. I won't give you a play-by-play, but finally during us yelling at each other (me demanding that he provide me information so that I could know whether to take a cab to Delhi or stay in the airport and he saying that it wasn't his problem) he mentioned that there was another flight that still had seats. Unfortunately, this was with an airline that has reputation for cancelling flights or at least delaying them a lot. I did buy a ticket for this flight, but soon afterwards I was told that a seat was available on a better airline that was definitely departing. So, I bought a second ticket. I really did not want to miss my international flight. I really, really did not want to spend a night in Delhi and put Peter through an extra day of waiting for me.
I bought the ticket, we took off, and I began to sob immediately. Usually, I'm pretty good at dealing with my feelings. Most of the time, I can be self-realized enough to go through stressful situations with a relatively clear head. I might freak out in the privacy of my own home, but I don't miss flights and I don't cry on planes. The reason for my uncharacteristic behavior is that I'm very conflicted about leaving India. I love Uttarakhand. I had one of the best experiences of my life during these nine months. I have friends here to whom I feel very deeply connected, even though some of them don't even speak English. I've been so lucky to build so many cross-cultural and cross-language relationships this year. I also just love the culture and the geography of Uttarakhand. On the other hand, I'm completely exhausted. I miss my family, my boyfriend, my friends, my dogs, and my culture. As much as I tried to identify with living in India this year, I am not Indian. I feel as if I am leaving home in order to go home. I know that the United States is my homeland. I will always be American. The people who mean the most to me in the entire world are Americans. I behave like an American woman and not an Indian woman. Regardless, I felt like a part of me was being torn out as we took off from Dehradun. I had not addressed this conflict prior to today.
Denying my ambivalence led me to not actually focus on leaving. I packed and I said goodbye to people, but I didn't actually give my ticket a good look. That's never happened to me before in my entire life. I feel very foolish and wasteful. But it's also shown me just how much of my mind was engaged without me even realizing it. I should have given myself more time to process what it meant to me to leave India.I hope that the next time that I go through a transition such as this one, I am able to better take care of myself.
India is both very aggressive and very conservative. My legs are paler than they've ever been in my life, because I can't show them in public. But then as you walk down the street, you're assaulted with sounds, smells, and sights. There's feces, food cooking and burning garbage. There's a million scooters that seem to always be about to collide. There's large groups of people everywhere. Even in the village, people group together. There's no privacy here. I needed to request that Jannat and Didi leave my room when I was trying to tweeze my eyebrows before leaving for the airport. Although there are no boundaries here, I spent a lot of time alone. I spent a lot of time unable to communicate in my native tongue. It's no surprise that all of these contradictions have led me to feel very confused with regards to India. I am both relieved to leave and extremely sad. But I felt very guilty about being upset about my departure. My parents, boyfriend and friends miss me. I felt like shit for being sad when they were so happy that I'm coming home soon. So, I denied that I was even leaving. I put off packing and I didn't pay attention to my flight information.
I'm embarrassed, but I'm also relieved. I'm glad that my emotions about India are not as simple as I told myself that they were. I'm happy these months meant enough to me that I cried as we left Dehradun. Of course, I'm also very, very excited that I am in Delhi and that I will not miss my international flight. And really, the cost of those two tickets is equivalent to shopping for a few hours or a weekend trip in the United States. I'll just be missing out on one of those things, which I don't really care about too much anyways. The important thing to remember is that I'm fragile now, because I was strong when it counted. I fought for a lot during these nine months and I didn't give up even when I was faced with circumstances that I could have never imagined. Even so, I'm happy that I had those obstacles. The future doesn't seem so scary now that I've made a great experience out if a potentially negative one. I hope that I can maintain this attitude in the United States.
Goodbye, India.
I literally began crying when I realized this. The Jet Airways rep who I was speaking with can only be described as a quintessential dickhead. I hate to use this language on this blog, but I really don't think there's any other way that I could describe the lack of compassion and useless information with which he soaked the Dehradun airport. I won't give you a play-by-play, but finally during us yelling at each other (me demanding that he provide me information so that I could know whether to take a cab to Delhi or stay in the airport and he saying that it wasn't his problem) he mentioned that there was another flight that still had seats. Unfortunately, this was with an airline that has reputation for cancelling flights or at least delaying them a lot. I did buy a ticket for this flight, but soon afterwards I was told that a seat was available on a better airline that was definitely departing. So, I bought a second ticket. I really did not want to miss my international flight. I really, really did not want to spend a night in Delhi and put Peter through an extra day of waiting for me.
I bought the ticket, we took off, and I began to sob immediately. Usually, I'm pretty good at dealing with my feelings. Most of the time, I can be self-realized enough to go through stressful situations with a relatively clear head. I might freak out in the privacy of my own home, but I don't miss flights and I don't cry on planes. The reason for my uncharacteristic behavior is that I'm very conflicted about leaving India. I love Uttarakhand. I had one of the best experiences of my life during these nine months. I have friends here to whom I feel very deeply connected, even though some of them don't even speak English. I've been so lucky to build so many cross-cultural and cross-language relationships this year. I also just love the culture and the geography of Uttarakhand. On the other hand, I'm completely exhausted. I miss my family, my boyfriend, my friends, my dogs, and my culture. As much as I tried to identify with living in India this year, I am not Indian. I feel as if I am leaving home in order to go home. I know that the United States is my homeland. I will always be American. The people who mean the most to me in the entire world are Americans. I behave like an American woman and not an Indian woman. Regardless, I felt like a part of me was being torn out as we took off from Dehradun. I had not addressed this conflict prior to today.
Denying my ambivalence led me to not actually focus on leaving. I packed and I said goodbye to people, but I didn't actually give my ticket a good look. That's never happened to me before in my entire life. I feel very foolish and wasteful. But it's also shown me just how much of my mind was engaged without me even realizing it. I should have given myself more time to process what it meant to me to leave India.I hope that the next time that I go through a transition such as this one, I am able to better take care of myself.
India is both very aggressive and very conservative. My legs are paler than they've ever been in my life, because I can't show them in public. But then as you walk down the street, you're assaulted with sounds, smells, and sights. There's feces, food cooking and burning garbage. There's a million scooters that seem to always be about to collide. There's large groups of people everywhere. Even in the village, people group together. There's no privacy here. I needed to request that Jannat and Didi leave my room when I was trying to tweeze my eyebrows before leaving for the airport. Although there are no boundaries here, I spent a lot of time alone. I spent a lot of time unable to communicate in my native tongue. It's no surprise that all of these contradictions have led me to feel very confused with regards to India. I am both relieved to leave and extremely sad. But I felt very guilty about being upset about my departure. My parents, boyfriend and friends miss me. I felt like shit for being sad when they were so happy that I'm coming home soon. So, I denied that I was even leaving. I put off packing and I didn't pay attention to my flight information.
I'm embarrassed, but I'm also relieved. I'm glad that my emotions about India are not as simple as I told myself that they were. I'm happy these months meant enough to me that I cried as we left Dehradun. Of course, I'm also very, very excited that I am in Delhi and that I will not miss my international flight. And really, the cost of those two tickets is equivalent to shopping for a few hours or a weekend trip in the United States. I'll just be missing out on one of those things, which I don't really care about too much anyways. The important thing to remember is that I'm fragile now, because I was strong when it counted. I fought for a lot during these nine months and I didn't give up even when I was faced with circumstances that I could have never imagined. Even so, I'm happy that I had those obstacles. The future doesn't seem so scary now that I've made a great experience out if a potentially negative one. I hope that I can maintain this attitude in the United States.
Goodbye, India.
nice article erica, i like it
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