So on top of everything else, such as my self-observations, this pre-trip journal writing is a sort of exercise in the process of actually sitting still, collecting thoughts, and taking the time to write them down. I find that I am rather enjoying it so far, it forces me to focus and calm down. A good way to wind down from a tiring day.
I created this blog today - hope you like it - and I found that I had the hardest time settling on a name for it. I had quite a few ideas, all of which sounded as corny as the one before it. I've decided that titles, in general, are corny and do not seem to fit when they are created before the actual content it is supposed to describe. However, the formatting stage of setting up the blog kept taunting me with an expecting "title" written where the title would go, seemingly innocent to the people to the people who didn't have to come up with a befitting title to sum up events that haven't happened yet. Evil. Anyway, I chose "A Taste of India," because, believe it or not, it was the least stupid of what I came up with.
P.S. The background picture is not one that I took.
P.P.S. Apparently, the repeated use of Windex (Professional) on a whiteboard...causes the death of said whiteboard, rendering it utterly useless except for the initial use after the windexing. After which - it is aaaall permanent. Oops.
Friday, June 10, 2011
6.9.11 Just After Midnight. 21 Days out.
My mind races with a million thoughts as my imagination gets the better of me and I begin to visualize endless distortions of a reality I have yet the pleasure of encountering. I have come to realize that as the days leading up to my departure creep ever closer, it is not the fact that I will be traveling half way around the world by myself, to a place I have never been too, where I know no one, and I barely know bits and pieces of the language; it is the anticipation of all of this that brings about both excitement and the much more prominent anxiety. These scenarios range from the worst case - I get lost, have no money or phone, and lose my passport - to the other extreme of having the time of my life, having had one of those life-changing experiences, and deciding that I might just not want to leave. I assume reality is somewhere in the middle.
I have wanted to go to India for so many years now, and though I had always promised myself that I would go one day, I never really believed in my own promise. But here I am, 21 days from fulfilling my promise to myself. I don't think that the reality...the magnitude of which....has hit me yet. It will be an interesting day when it does. I have many people to thank for this opportunity, my family and friends for their financial, mental, and emotional support, and for CFHI's (Child Family Health International) willingness to allow a fledgling anthropologist, with absolutely no medical background, into their program. I am forever indebted to all of you.
I was never good at keeping a journal. Attempting to put into words the jumbled mess of utter chaos that floats about untethered in my head has proven futile time and time again. And Although I find the idea of sharing my innermost thoughts with whomever wishes to read it slightly uncomfortable, I will do my best to be as completely honest and open to sharing my experiences as I possibly can...as regularly as I can. I feel that as a fledgling anthropologist, my experience is not just my own, but is meant to be shared and explored by everyone. It is my belief that experiences must be both had and shared in order for not only the tolerance, but eventual understanding and ultimately acceptance of other peoples, thoughts, and ideas to happen. In an ever increasingly open world, we need to (sorry for the cliche) learn how to get along, not just put up with each other.
...It is just after 1am, in a suburb of Sacramento, CA and through the open window I hear a pack of coyotes howling, calling to one another under the veil of darkness...I can't help but wonder what noises I will hear in the nights to come...
I have wanted to go to India for so many years now, and though I had always promised myself that I would go one day, I never really believed in my own promise. But here I am, 21 days from fulfilling my promise to myself. I don't think that the reality...the magnitude of which....has hit me yet. It will be an interesting day when it does. I have many people to thank for this opportunity, my family and friends for their financial, mental, and emotional support, and for CFHI's (Child Family Health International) willingness to allow a fledgling anthropologist, with absolutely no medical background, into their program. I am forever indebted to all of you.
I was never good at keeping a journal. Attempting to put into words the jumbled mess of utter chaos that floats about untethered in my head has proven futile time and time again. And Although I find the idea of sharing my innermost thoughts with whomever wishes to read it slightly uncomfortable, I will do my best to be as completely honest and open to sharing my experiences as I possibly can...as regularly as I can. I feel that as a fledgling anthropologist, my experience is not just my own, but is meant to be shared and explored by everyone. It is my belief that experiences must be both had and shared in order for not only the tolerance, but eventual understanding and ultimately acceptance of other peoples, thoughts, and ideas to happen. In an ever increasingly open world, we need to (sorry for the cliche) learn how to get along, not just put up with each other.
...It is just after 1am, in a suburb of Sacramento, CA and through the open window I hear a pack of coyotes howling, calling to one another under the veil of darkness...I can't help but wonder what noises I will hear in the nights to come...
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