And just like that, the world seems a bit more magical again.
The last few weeks since Ghana have been surreal/maddening/frightening/frustrating/[insert negative emotion here] in Hyderabad. Cory Booker, one of the most inspiring speakers I've heard, once talked about lessons and the universe. Addressing a group of b-school students so nerdy that we went back to campus during summer vacation, he asked: "Does it ever feel like the universe is trying to tell you something? It often seems like it has a few lessons to teach us in our lifetime; it keeps pounding us over the head with that lesson over and over -- until we pay enough attention and finally listen."
It's clear that the lesson of the last few weeks has been simply this: "Count your blessings. Count your blessings. Count your blessings."
Yet even when I tell myself that intellectually, my gut has a hard time keeping up. Everywhere I looked and every experience I encountered seemed fraught with frustrations and a feeling of wanting to be anywhere except where I was. I found the country infuriating, maddening, and quite frankly, just too wearing.
And now that I'm three hours removed from Hyderabad, and within the surreal wonderland that is the Dubai airport, I feel a fog lifted. All at once, I feel like my old optimistic self again -- taking pleasure in the small things, like a security guard that looks ANYTHING but Filipino speaking perfect Tagalog to the couple in front of me, or the adorable baby sleeping soundly through the entire flight. And I'm not sure whether to feel better or worse... since in a way this only reinforces frustrations in India -- that all feelings of hostility fade across borders.
But sitting here waiting for my flight, I also gain more perspective on the last few weeks. It's not black or white, of course -- there are shades of grey that I've been missing. Or rather, perhaps I've only been focused on one end of the dichotomy.
I read a bit of Holy Cow, and the author (an Australian woman with a love/hate relationship of India, which starts with hate and ultimately transforms into love) writes of a party in Delhi:
"It's a bizarre scene -- full of foreigners attempting to figure out India. I'm beginning to think it's pointless to try. India is beyond statement, for anything you say, the opposite is also true. It's rich and poor, spiritual and material, cruel and kind, angry but peaceful, ugly and beautiful, and smart but stupid. It's all the extremes. India defies understanding, and for once, for me, that's okay. In Australia, in my small pocket of my own isolated country, I felt like I understood my world and myself, but now, I'm actually embracing not knowing and I'm questioning much of what I thought I did know. I kind of like being confused, wrestling with contradictions, and not having to wrap up issues in a minute before a commercial break...My confinement here is different -- I'm trapped by heat and by a never-ending series of juxtapositions. India is in some ways like a fun house hall of mirrors where I can see both sides of each contradiction sharply and there's no easy escape to understanding. What's more, India's extremes are endlessly confronting."
And the biggest contradiction of all? Despite all my feelings of frustration and anger these last few weeks, I know as soon as I land in JFK, I'll miss it. That's India for you.
