This is an article that I wrote for the Studio30Plus web site - a place for writers over 30. Check it out if you love to write and you're over 30.
They told me I wouldn’t like it. They told me I would be
back in 6 months. They told me it would be bad for my health, my children, and
my marriage. They told me I would be miserable with all of the small
discomforts that are built into life where I was going and horribly lonely. Oh I had been there once before, I knew a little
bit of what to expect. However, a visit is never the same as a commitment to
stay for a while. With all of this in mind, I steeled myself and set my
expectations as low as I could. It probably would be miserable, but after
marrying him, going and staying there for a while at some point in our lives was
rather non-negotiable. It was an obligation I had signed up for on my wedding
day as surely as I had promised to love him forever. Make no mistake, it was
voluntary. I decided to make the best of it, even while being scared out of my
wits that I would indeed hate it and resent him.
I watched that last rainy New York night pass by me as a
friend ferried the kids and I to JFK. I was heartsick with all of the goodbyes
and numb with the thought of leaving the only place I had ever considered home.
I didn’t cry, but then again, I rarely ever do. Saying goodbye to the last 2
people was the lowest point. It felt so intensely final as we walked through
security and around the corner. A wonderful chapter of our lives had ended
turning that corner and I couldn’t even bring myself to believe that the next
chapter would be as good or better.
The 24 hour trip was a blur of uncomfortable seats and
cranky children and spouses. In essence,
all planes and all trips are basically the same. As we emerged blearily into
the early morning light in Hyderabad, a small seed of excitement began to grow
inside of me. The seductive call of being surrounded by exotic sights, smells, and
tastes called flooding into me. After
being immersed in Indian culture for the past 10 years, it felt more like
coming home than leaving it. I cook Indian food, have Indian friends, enjoy my
Indian inlaws.
It slowly crept up on my husband and me as we settled into
life in Bangalore. One day, I turned to him and told him how glad I am that we
came to India and we realized how good it has been for both of us and our
family. Both of us were rather quiet as we pondered how this had happened. As
more time passes, I find myself enjoying India more and more. All of their words, while well meaning, have
absolutely no meaning now. To be sure, home is where you make it and your
mindset can make or break an experience.
Becky
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