The other day something fell out of my purse. As I am a lady and a mom, really I can not be held responsible because "things" are always falling out of my purse. This time though, it was not too embarrassing. It was two doses of Imodium- anti-diarrhea meds for my non-American readers. After my May trip back to the States, I had shoved those little caplets EVERYWHERE just in case I ever needed them again. As I stooped down to pick the Imodium off the ground I thought, "time to put this away."
To the day, it has been a month since we have come home. I almost want to cry and rejoice at the same time. Despite my last blog posts, I really do feel like I am home now. I wished I could have written more about my slow adjustment but life was just too busy. It was either blog or find my safety deposit box keys. I should have blogged because I still can't find those darn keys. I am the kind of person that hides things in really good spots, but then I forget where I hid them. Last time I found the safety deposit box keys in my ugliest pair of exercise socks tucked in my drawer. The only reason I found them was because I decided to throw out my ugly socks and I heard something jingling. Really, I should have blogged.
I would have blogged about how reverse culture shock for me this time was like Sid the Science Kid on steroids. I was comparing and contrasting every minute of every day. It was exhausting.
I would have blogged about the drunk, homeless man that approached my family in the subway station in Atlanta and how despite me being incredibly uncomfortable I forced myself to smile and chat like I didn't know the conversation was going to end up with him asking me for money. Like we were equals. In India, I wouldn't have given that man the time of day. In India, he wouldn't have expected it and I wouldn't have been shamed for not doing so.
I would have blogged about my first American yoga class and how much I liked it. But how much I missed my friends, the lady with the GIANT crack in her feet and smelly armpits, my teacher's Shavasana chant,and even picking up my milk on the way home. How that whole morning at the YMCA it was hard to concentrate as my mind was wandering through a vivid memory of living and doing in Sankalp.
I would have blogged about my school where I teach and how overwhelmed and disgusted I was with all the toys and stuff we have there. Seriously- we have a full gallon bag of polar bears. Who has a whole gallon bag of polar bears? A bag of frogs I will give you. We can't sing "5 Green and Speckled Frogs" without frogs, but that is 5 not 15.
I would have blogged about struggling to make a choice to send Shalini to Bala Vihar at the Chinmaya Mission instead of church, where she wants to go. And how I have to take Flip to church with a bunch of white people and not Chinmaya Mission because crowds of Indians make her anxious and crawling into my arms like a baby. We have had this wonderful 9 months of India- taking in India, how do I keep that alive in my girls?
I would have blogged about the morning I found Star drenched in tears, reading cards from her Sankalp friends, and how I turned into a wobbling mess instead of the strong, backbone Momma that I should have been.
I would have blogged about my grandmother and how I can call her everyday now. That makes me incredibly happy. Her voice is quiet and mostly she listens, but I can let her know how much I love her now that I am closer.
I would have blogged about sitting in my red den in my hideous plaid but comfy couch reading books with my kids knowing that no one was going to knock on my door. As much as I loved having Srinivas and Lakshmi, it was always hard work to have strangers in my home. How that was one of the moments I sighed and felt home.
I wish I could write about all this. I wish I had the time. But the truth is, I still haven't finished unpacking from India. I have one more suitcase sitting in my back room. I still haven't finished unpacking the items I packed up from Dec 2011 before we left our house. I haven't gotten my work paperwork turned in. I haven't synced my phone which seems small but I still have India numbers and duplicate American contacts, no Calliou videos to keep Flip busy during Star's violin lesson, and no music. And even the last two posts I managed to get out were not like I wanted them. They were short, condensed versions of the ones I had in my head.
So for now, just like the Imodium- it is time to put it away. So many folks have told me they have read along and enjoyed my writing. And honestly, I am flattered. Thank you so much. I hope to come back to writing someday, but I feel like to keep this blog going would wrong. It would not be what I want to present of myself to the world. So thanks for reading along. Until our next Setty Family adventure...
To the day, it has been a month since we have come home. I almost want to cry and rejoice at the same time. Despite my last blog posts, I really do feel like I am home now. I wished I could have written more about my slow adjustment but life was just too busy. It was either blog or find my safety deposit box keys. I should have blogged because I still can't find those darn keys. I am the kind of person that hides things in really good spots, but then I forget where I hid them. Last time I found the safety deposit box keys in my ugliest pair of exercise socks tucked in my drawer. The only reason I found them was because I decided to throw out my ugly socks and I heard something jingling. Really, I should have blogged.
I would have blogged about how reverse culture shock for me this time was like Sid the Science Kid on steroids. I was comparing and contrasting every minute of every day. It was exhausting.
I would have blogged about the drunk, homeless man that approached my family in the subway station in Atlanta and how despite me being incredibly uncomfortable I forced myself to smile and chat like I didn't know the conversation was going to end up with him asking me for money. Like we were equals. In India, I wouldn't have given that man the time of day. In India, he wouldn't have expected it and I wouldn't have been shamed for not doing so.
I would have blogged about my first American yoga class and how much I liked it. But how much I missed my friends, the lady with the GIANT crack in her feet and smelly armpits, my teacher's Shavasana chant,and even picking up my milk on the way home. How that whole morning at the YMCA it was hard to concentrate as my mind was wandering through a vivid memory of living and doing in Sankalp.
I would have blogged about my school where I teach and how overwhelmed and disgusted I was with all the toys and stuff we have there. Seriously- we have a full gallon bag of polar bears. Who has a whole gallon bag of polar bears? A bag of frogs I will give you. We can't sing "5 Green and Speckled Frogs" without frogs, but that is 5 not 15.
I would have blogged about struggling to make a choice to send Shalini to Bala Vihar at the Chinmaya Mission instead of church, where she wants to go. And how I have to take Flip to church with a bunch of white people and not Chinmaya Mission because crowds of Indians make her anxious and crawling into my arms like a baby. We have had this wonderful 9 months of India- taking in India, how do I keep that alive in my girls?
I would have blogged about the morning I found Star drenched in tears, reading cards from her Sankalp friends, and how I turned into a wobbling mess instead of the strong, backbone Momma that I should have been.
I would have blogged about my grandmother and how I can call her everyday now. That makes me incredibly happy. Her voice is quiet and mostly she listens, but I can let her know how much I love her now that I am closer.
I would have blogged about sitting in my red den in my hideous plaid but comfy couch reading books with my kids knowing that no one was going to knock on my door. As much as I loved having Srinivas and Lakshmi, it was always hard work to have strangers in my home. How that was one of the moments I sighed and felt home.
I wish I could write about all this. I wish I had the time. But the truth is, I still haven't finished unpacking from India. I have one more suitcase sitting in my back room. I still haven't finished unpacking the items I packed up from Dec 2011 before we left our house. I haven't gotten my work paperwork turned in. I haven't synced my phone which seems small but I still have India numbers and duplicate American contacts, no Calliou videos to keep Flip busy during Star's violin lesson, and no music. And even the last two posts I managed to get out were not like I wanted them. They were short, condensed versions of the ones I had in my head.
So for now, just like the Imodium- it is time to put it away. So many folks have told me they have read along and enjoyed my writing. And honestly, I am flattered. Thank you so much. I hope to come back to writing someday, but I feel like to keep this blog going would wrong. It would not be what I want to present of myself to the world. So thanks for reading along. Until our next Setty Family adventure...
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