This post was written on October 26.
As I was walking to the post office today, I had one of those whoa-I'm-in-India moments. I thought, "look at me, I'm walking to the post office. In India." I meandered down the dusty road, coming close to getting run over about every five seconds, and passed a few people along the way. By myself. Like it was the most ordinary thing to do. And I guess it was.
But the thought of it makes me happy, as, until recently, I didn't even know where the post office was. Accomplishing such a mundane, quotidian errand signifies that I am slowly crossing from the realm of visitor/outisider to member of the community. Well, as much as a madama (white woman) possibly can. (By the way, anyone who says we live in a post-racial world where no one sees color has never been to India...Hmm, possible blog topic for later...).
Anyway, the aforementioned transition--my successful little walk to the post office--the ordinary-ness of it all--well, it's a good feeling.
I also made a new friend on the way. As I was contemplating the fact that I was walking to the Post Office, in India, I heard someone beckoning to me. It was a middle-aged woman, calling to me from the front porch of her house. Unsure of what she wanted, and fighting hard to resist the US 'stranger danger' mentality, I paused as she approached me by the road.
India's culture is known for its hospitality, and I've heard multiple stories of one being invited to tea by a perfect stranger, though I had never experienced it personally. Until today, that is. Letta, as I learned her name was, was offering me one such spontaneous invitation. She was very kind, spoke English pretty well, and we even had a small exchange in Malayalam. And as much as I wanted to accept her invitation, I had to return to Buchanan in time for Zumba class.
Next time Letta spots me walking by, I'll take her up on it. I know I'm not supposed to accept candy from strangers...but no one ever said anything about tea.
As I was walking to the post office today, I had one of those whoa-I'm-in-India moments. I thought, "look at me, I'm walking to the post office. In India." I meandered down the dusty road, coming close to getting run over about every five seconds, and passed a few people along the way. By myself. Like it was the most ordinary thing to do. And I guess it was.
But the thought of it makes me happy, as, until recently, I didn't even know where the post office was. Accomplishing such a mundane, quotidian errand signifies that I am slowly crossing from the realm of visitor/outisider to member of the community. Well, as much as a madama (white woman) possibly can. (By the way, anyone who says we live in a post-racial world where no one sees color has never been to India...Hmm, possible blog topic for later...).
Anyway, the aforementioned transition--my successful little walk to the post office--the ordinary-ness of it all--well, it's a good feeling.
I also made a new friend on the way. As I was contemplating the fact that I was walking to the Post Office, in India, I heard someone beckoning to me. It was a middle-aged woman, calling to me from the front porch of her house. Unsure of what she wanted, and fighting hard to resist the US 'stranger danger' mentality, I paused as she approached me by the road.
India's culture is known for its hospitality, and I've heard multiple stories of one being invited to tea by a perfect stranger, though I had never experienced it personally. Until today, that is. Letta, as I learned her name was, was offering me one such spontaneous invitation. She was very kind, spoke English pretty well, and we even had a small exchange in Malayalam. And as much as I wanted to accept her invitation, I had to return to Buchanan in time for Zumba class.
Next time Letta spots me walking by, I'll take her up on it. I know I'm not supposed to accept candy from strangers...but no one ever said anything about tea.
Eeehehehe! Your last line was so cute, it made me ruffle my you-know-what! Haha. I feel like the "Whoa. I'm in India" moment is just a replay of us in Panama. I remember going running one time and thinking, "Whoa. I'm running. In Panama." Of course, you'd expect nothing less from your roomie and vice versa. I mean, I kinda already knew you had those thoughts since we've got our RESP and everything. I miss you so much, Madison, and wish I could just call you up and go over and see you, or come home and see your lovely roomie face and get a splendiferous roomie hug!
ReplyDeleteI LOVE YOU!
p.s. I want to hear about the "not seeing color" thing. Sounds interesting. MEOW!
so I talked to a fellow friend from India (she teaches sewing at our family center) and asked her what to send you? She said chocolate! since I guess just like Colombia- you can get anything there as well. So- let me know if you have a preference. Anything you need? Olivia is preparing a masterpiece that she can only do!*) By the way, Esther is pregnant!
ReplyDeleteLove your posts and thoughts! You give us a "window" into SO much!
ReplyDeleteMissing you,
Aunt Liz