Day 49

You know when a sliver gets stuck in your hand?

You try to pin it between our fingernails, yank on it with tweezers, try ignoring it, ANYTHING to try and dispel the irritating prickle. It feels nearly impossible. However, eventually, no matter how much prodding and poking is accomplished, the skin, recognizing the foreign object, is going to be what pushes the sliver out.

I feel as though we are three tiny slivers stuck inside the big fleshy skin of India's palm,

and as much as we don't want to leave, the time has come for the skin to dispel the foreign object...

It is our last night in India, day 49… home is on the horizon, and it has taken us this long to finally feel the weight of how different we are.

We are white. We are female. We are American, born and raised, and those things just make up a sliver that is too big to ignore.

This afternoon, we met up for coffee with Rangana and Alyssia, girl friends of Rishi and Neil. They weren't directly mean, but hearing how they talked and the topics of conversation did enough to push us out. They smiled big toothy grins when we talked, but the response behind their eyes, was "what are you doing here?" I wonder if that is how they feel when they come to America...

Rishi and Neil have been more than accommodating to us. They assure us the reason behind their generosity is how much they enjoy our company and that the joy of our company stems from how different we are from girls such as Rangana and Alyssia. However, it's a double edged sword, because the reason we are different is because we were''t born with silver spoons in our mouthes. We never received special treatment, and honestly I don't think we are the type who would want it. So far, it has only served to single us out more than we already are, only more than our skin color, as girls who require that level of attention.

…The drivers, the maid service, the never having to work or pay for anything… in memory, I will probably miss all those things, but in reality, I think Allie, Ariana, and I are all far too independent to be comfortable with that as our permanent lifestyle.

It has been over seven weeks now, and we have seen and experienced two polar sides of India, the destitute side of the poor and the glamourous lifestyle of the rich.

It has been like living in two completely different worlds, and although we may fit snuggly into our India pants and look confident on the arm of a Indian billionaire, the fact remains that we don't belong in either of these worlds.

Ariana put it perfectly when she said, "Being in Udaipur made me grateful for not being extremely poor, but Delhi made me grateful to not be extremely rich."

Delhi has been incredible. We have met some worthwhile people and had some memorable experiences. However, it will be nice returning to that comfortable tree these three slivers fell from, where we're not judged by the kind of perfume we wear or by how much gossip we can contribute to a conversation.

I can't say I am looking forward to going home, but I can say I am ready to.

I am ready to see my friends again, to eat regular food, and return to reality. I am ready to see that Vancouver sun setting over Mt. Hood and the comfortability of the familiar. Will Vancouver still even be familiar? I can hardly believe that in just a few short hours we will be back, nothing remaining of India but the few memories we can scourge up.

We bought a huge bouquet of flowers for Rishi's parents as a thank you for letting us stay in their beautiful house. They seemed to enjoy having us stay with them, and offered to have us stay with them any time we decide to return to India...

Hmmm… "Return to India"… I think I know the title of my next blog….

I love you India.. but the time has almost come for us to part ways… if only for a short while