The Path towards India

Written on December 11th, 2009

We all (Carolin, Anatoli, Nino and myself) went to visit Raman, the BD farmer's house yesterday. It was a lovely rural Indian village that greeted us. The children flocked around us, staring at us with their inquisitive eyes. Each wanted to know my age, my name, my country, all the names of each of my family members, etc. And each wanted us to repeat theirs respectively. We had a lovely supper on banana leafs under the curious stare of the dozens of children that eventually crowded into the house and began a series of performances of songs and poems in both english and tamil. We sang some swedish songs.

I find it is still a bit difficult to somehow stand with both feet in this country and live here fully. I guess it is a matter of accepting that this is also my life, as I feel I have said many times. I travel, I wear many different "hats". I see new things and really, every day is a challenge to be observed and to learn from. Live fully everyday.

When did I decide to come here?
Was it when I signed the trainee contract?
Was it when I started YIP?
Was it when Carolin came to Umeå Waldorfskola to talk about India?
How long has this journey been written into my history and how long have I been following this path, making decisions and having experiences that have helped me along the way?
Did I not always know that I would be in India one day?

This is where I am now. And this is exactly where I am supposed to be.

First day of illness

Written on December 9th, 2009

Arrived safe and sound at ISS, just in time to experience my first time ill in India. It's incredibly gross to sick up indian food. The smell of it will haunt you for hours. The nice woman in the kitchen, Mary, took care of me very well thought. She brought me lemon juice, came to check on me and eventually convinced me to eat some rice. With that I got a glass of pure cow's milk, though I didn't understand what it was at first. Though basic enough to take care of the illness in my stomach it severely upset my lactose intolerant digestive system. (At this point I was ill enough to waive that vegan thing).

I'm on the rooftop now, breaking "taboo" as I decided to take the opportunity to sunbathe and maybe forget my nausea. I rolled my trousers up to my knees, got my sleeves showing off my shoulders. This sun is just much too lovely, and how I have missed it in the Swedish darkness.

I am still a bit homesick for Järna, and my life, but I realise that I haven't "left" my life, this is also a part of it. Bleh. Still sick, moving off the roof to lie in bed. Feeling a bit frustrated and bored. Now and again I feel I catch picturesque glimpses of India that make me wish I would carry my camera around at all times. Sometimes it's even just a sentence thought, A feeling. I must practise writing them down. The palmtrees sound like a thunderstorm in the wind. The fluorescent lights buzz monotunously, insects bumping in to them. I feel like I have a fever, but my forehead isn't even sweaty, rather the opposite, dry, almost as if doused with chalk.

The beds are too hard, after a day of sleeping my back aches along with kidneys and neck, and I can't sleep on my stomach or I'll sick up again. I took some medicine. Can't exactly remember what it's form but I think to digestive related problems. The flurorescent lights make the soundtrack of this day as I watch one lonely black ant make its way across the carpets, its legs occasionally sticking to the fibres. I should like to sit outside and also, take the opportunity to fetch the laundry drying on the roof, but the mere idea of having to walk seems daunting.

I wonder if it's a peacock or a sloth making those eerie high-pitched sounds in the distance. I cannot muster the strength to do anything, the buzzing of the light is beginning to bother me.