Homecoming

Another painfully long bus ride got me to Bangalore to see Gingie before shipping off for good. Sad, but not all together surprising was that after a fitful night's sleep, I woke up Saturday morning with a splitting headache feeling horridly sick in general. I rested a couple extra hours essentially to no avail, but I wanted to at least attempt to enjoy my last day so I popped a couple more advil and Gingie and I headed out. Despite my aching and bouts of nausea, we managed to have a pretty fun afternoon spending my leftover rupees and seeing a Bollywood movie (obviously group dance scenes and melodrama were abundant and when they slowed and conversations in Hindi took their place, we cut out--it had been nearly 3 hours as it were and I had to get back anyway). A shower and a slightly teary goodbye and I was off to the airport for my 1am flight. My schedule home was pretty miserable, but the 6 hour layover in Mumbai in the middle of the night did have one perk--a star sighting! The lead form the movie I'd walked out of only hours before walked right past me talking on his cell phone--fame by association! I wish I'd reacted quicker but it was 3am and by the time my double-take, jaw-drop combo was over, he'd pretty much flown past.

30 hours of travel got me back to sweet home Chicago and before I could even realize the newness of my old stomping grounds I was accepting the Dora the Explorer welcome back balloons and a big hug from Mom. Being back is bittersweet--in some ways an easy adjustment--like sleeping in my fabulous bed--in other ways a hard one--like wondering why none of the outside has changed to match my inner growth. It feels almost as though I had one long lucid dream and have now woken up to find the leaves have fallen from the trees, the air has turned chilly and months have passed during my slumber.

It's strange the things I notice and I wonder if the same aspects of this world grab the attention of Indian tourists on arrival here. The traffic looks so streamlined to me--almost boring. Where are the cows? the carts? the rickshaws? the bikes? The streets look vacant, almost eerie like a ghost town--does anyone live here? And everything is so spread out. The space between the houses that I used to think were packed together like sardines in the aftermath of the rush of young families to our coveted suburb, now seem like vast vacancies; the wide streets make me feel unsheltered and exposed. Still the cool crisp air feels good in my lungs and I know with each breath that theses oddities will fade from my attention faster than I think. I'm nervous to reenter American existence and begin to write the next chapter of my life, but I know I will continue to carry my experiences with me as I go and they will help guide me in choosing my best path. I can only hope this next step will be as fabulous and fulfilling as the last. I feel so grateful for the support of family and friends and for the opportunity to have such an expansive and inspiring journey at so young an age; I can only cower at the feet of my good fortune and hope to be worthy of all its blessings.

PS Happy Turkey Day to one and all!