We’re back from India and about a week away from moving so, as you can imagine, I am very FHEJSDAKJDOIWEJRIOEWJDWAKFNKAJFDOASJD:OWAK.
India India India. It was wonderful to be with our family, and it was very special to be able to mark the anniversary of V’s dad’s passing with so many loved ones. But being an introvert in India is a little bit of a 10,000 spoons when all you need is a knife situation, if the spoons are people, and the knife is solitude. It’s like being an alcoholic in Utah. This place ain’t meant for you. There’s nothing wrong with you and there’s nothing wrong with the place, but it’s not meant to be. Which is not to say that I don’t love going; I do. But it’s one of the reasons we will never ever live there.
I was observing a lot of white couples at the airport on the day we left and getting inexplicably annoyed like I always do. Skinny girls in plain tank tops with colorful harem pants and messy hair and dirty chappals. I think they come for yoga, but that’s just an educated guess. Why do they bother me? I guess I think that they treat India like a product. But what’s really wrong with them visiting and enjoying the culture? It’s pretty ballsy to go to India on your own, without knowing anybody or knowing any of the languages. I wouldn’t do it. If V wasn’t in my life, India would barely be on my radar beyond its geopolitical significance. India is fucking intense. It’s loud and stressful and smelly and sometimes dangerous and often dirty and hot and crowded and, as aforementioned, inhospitable to introverts. People are very very kind, generous, and friendly on an individual level but strangers are indifferent at best, hostile at worst. It always takes me a day or two to remember not to smile at anyone I don’t know. I’m an American and a Midwesterner to boot – smiling (by which I mostly mean tepid no-teeth smiles) is like breathing. The watchman will let me in and maybe grunt hello but he will NOT smile, will NOT ask how I am, and if I do either one, it’s an “invitation” rather than my cultural habit.
I think I’ve had about enough travel for 2018. After the move, other than coming home for the holidays, I think we will stay put for a little while. Which means you should come visit me!
What I’m reading:
- Haven’t finished The H-Spot quite yet but I’ve also started Educated by Tara Westover, which is truly fascinating. It’s a memoir of a girl who grew up in a sort of survivalist/antigovernment Mormon family in Idaho, without any formal schooling throughout her childhood.
What I’m watching:
- I discovered a new way to calm my nerves during takeoff on a plane: watching Bob Ross videos! It seems so obvious now I don’t know how I didn’t think of it sooner. Watching him paint is really ASMR heaven and the perfect calming antidote for flying anxiety.
What I’m fuming about:
- I’m trying to ignore the outside world as much as possible this week amid all the moving preparations. I’m sure there’s a lot to be angry about but I don’t have the bandwidth for it right now. So today let’s try a different list-
What I’m anxious about:
- handling Isis in the airport and on the flight itself and in the Uber to our new apartment
- living for an undetermined amount of time without the vast majority of our belongings since the moving truck will arrive in Seattle anywhere from like 7-14 days after we do
- finding a new primary care doctor and psychiatrist
- being lonely/homesick
Next time I’ll write a list of what I’m excited about – because I am excited! – but we’ll leave it here today.
Sconnie Molly 