2019-05-31
From my journal, 15 November For the entirety of the first month with my host family, the kitchen was a ‘do not enter’ zone. In this space where chai was always brewing and rice was always steaming and vegetables were always frying, my host mom set the rules – and apparently, one such (unofficial)...
Read More2019-05-31
From my journal, 25 September I instantly heard the footsteps behind me pick up their pace, the pitter-patter of feet becoming quicker and louder. “Keep on walking”, I thought to myself, hoping to fight off the habitual feelings of discomfort and weariness from settling in. These efforts, however, were in vain: only a few...
Read More2019-05-30
I remember sugar cane. I remember the black bowler hat my great-grandpa always wore, even under the shade of the Guava tree in our backyard. I remember the wasp in my room one Saturday morning. I went and got Danny, and he helped me get it out. I remember playing hangman with Danny on the...
Read More2019-05-30
I love my bed in Iowa City. It’s small, but that’s okay, because it only needs to fit me, which it does perfectly. I’ve got it positioned so I can pull my curtains back and look out through the screen into my backyard, and the outline of the pine tree branches in the back. In...
Read More2019-05-30
Roti, sabji, daal, chawal, papad, yogurt. A cultural fusion that I am most certainly here for Vrinda-devi, the goddess of Vrindavan, was carved from the same marble as the deities at the main ISKCON temple in Pune. She was gifted to my host mother to be cared for because the temple already had several deities....
Read More2019-05-30
MG road was one of the first places we visited as a cohort during our first week in India. It took me a long time to realize my host family’s proximity to MG road, but when I did, I came back often. And I returned today, which will most likely be the last time I...
Read More