Homesick @ MindSay 
school
Finally, I am home. I was going to be home on Thursday night, but my mom hadn’t packed up any of her stuff so we had to spend an extra night at her school. Yesterday I felt like I slept walked through the entire day, so I slept in this morning (which was, of course, excellent).
Now, sitting in front of my computer I feel kind of lost. Nothing here at my “home” fits right. I’m use to the structure of my aunt’s family: eating at the same times everyday, doing things as a family, having your own personal space and quiet time, and having someone to snuggle down next to in the evening. Here I am alone, completely self-reliant for structure in my life. I’m just beginning to realize how much I truly dislike this forced solitude.
But. It's sad that I'm readily getting things ready to move out. I still have a good five months left in this hell hole, really. And, thinking things over, it's depressing to look back and see that I have very little things holding me back. The food, the social scene, my friends, the fact that this was my home for nineteen years. It's almost depressing that I'd be more than happy to leave here.
I'm running out of happy memories, of reasons to stay.
Well, hello there. I'm Kit. >_>; Way to start a new journal, indeed.
I've just come back from spending six days living in a sufi Dargah in Delhi by the shrine of hazrat Nizamuddin. The dargah itself was, as advertized, "an oasis in a metropolis." The setting was beautiful with moderns buildings built in the old persian style. The guestquarters and food were awesome, and the rooms definitly brough the word "cell" (as in a nun's room) to mind. For six days we attended lectures on sufism, listened to qqwwali music, and learned to sing some of the songs. On several nights, veiled like the other women, we went to the shrine to hear prayers and see the singers. I am at loss for words to describe this experience.
Though all in all, I enjoyed my experience, there were times when my lack of self confidence really got in my way. Here is an excerpt from one of the emails I sent to my mother while there:
There's a dengue epidemic going on, so I'm staying in a lot and covering myself with bugspray.
It's Ramadan. Last night they took us to this place to hear the singers. We at the shrine of an islamic saint, it was a huge islamic/muslim ceremony for the end of ramadan. There were about a dozen mullahs (like priests) there and they prayed for about an hour, then the music started. This wasn't an evening set up for tourists--this was more like walking into a baptist church in the deep south to hear them sing. It seemed like some of the people (it was almost totally men) were unhappy that we were there. Muslim feelings about americans aren't so complimentary just now. Before we went in, we were aken to sit in front of the oldest mullah, and he blessed our presence there. However in the middle of the singing there was a loud argument which I couldn't understand. The singers and priests on one side, a bunch of other men on the other. I have no ideal what it was about. In fact, I'm probably just being paranoid, but I felt like it was about our presence there. (As it turns out, the patrons of the shrine didn't like the song the singers were playing and were demanding a different one. My worries were all in my head.) The singers finally just started playing again, overrulling all objections, and a bunch of people got up and left. Aside from that, there were no problems or difficulties--except for a three year old throwing food at me, which could have just been 3yo behavior. The music was amazing and went on until almost one in the morning.
We're actually learning to sing some of the songs--or, rather, the others are--I'm struggling again. I've always thought I was good at singing--Leslie and Suza, and even Jeremy said so--but when I tried the other day not only was I bad but the teacher looked away and shook his head and wouldn't look at me again. To add insult to injury, he doted on Laura the other girl in my singing class to the extent that I got really depressed about the whole matter and don't really want to sing again--at all. Even the thought of going back to jaipur and continuing my class just makes me feel awful now.
We walked around the "village" community which had grown up around the shrine--it was indeed just like a village in the heart of a huge city. Complete with narrow windy streets and markets. Goats and sheep wandered about and butchers proudly displayed their wares--dismembered carcasses. We bought fabulous bangles from a woman in a cubbyhole shop, and watched a man cut the head off of a chicken. Though I definitly felt pressure to keep my head covered, we received almost no harassment.
My birthday came and went in the dargah--part of the reason for my foul mood, I think. It's hard to be so far from family and friends, to be "almost thirty" (I'm 27) and to be so cloistered. My one wish for my birthday was to go out for a nice meal--but it was a wish I didn't get. I had lentils and rice as I'd had every other day that week. Simple food, and good, but not the blue-cheese and chicken linguine at The Big Chill (a restaurant) that I was craving. The people at the dargah were very protective of us and, though we'd all been to Delhi before and had gone around on our own, we were heavily discouraged from going out at night.
I did meet the most wonderful human being I have ever, and will ever, know. His name was sufi sahib, and he had almost no English. Also, I think he might of been sworn to celibacy. He had this aura of innocence about him I can't describe. He was a big sufi teddy-bear and I was sad that, as a woman, it would have been inappropriate for me to squeeze him! He had the best soul! He truly exemplified the love and heart of a sufi. One of the most endearing of his many endearing qualities was that he used the pronoun "I" for almost anybody. It could mean "I" "you" "us" or "them" and he would say things like "I am going to the dargah 1...2...3...." To indicate that we were going to the dargah. Or "I am going to the sleeping...." To say "go to bed!" He would also say "I am going to the dargah" to indicate that he had just gone to the dargah as well. Hard to comprehend his meaning sometimes, but worth it in cuteness. The wonderful man was genuinely sad for our leaving, he stood at the door of the dargah dripping tears and waving as we drove away.
I've been gone as a couple of you have pointed out. How rude of me to say hello, add pictures and a foreign language then not talk!
This week my dad has been in town and it was like he brought home with him. I understand now from having some time to think about it, and feeling more at ease with him here. Part of what makes homesickness so hard, for me and everyone, is not having any family anywhere near. What did people do before the Internet and cell phones? I imagine lovers, girls like me, all waiting for the postman to deliver a letter, reading it once and hurriedly writing a response and mailing it so the next response would hurry back. Then reading the letter over and over. I read emails more than once. I call absent friends and cousins.
My dad got off the plane and with the first hug and kiss, his smell and seeing him in the flesh helped so much. I couldn't quit tearing up, or stop talking, if you listen to him. He began by us walking around campus and seeing what the area was like, how to get to and from my suite. He asked me where to get good food and we found a couple of places that were fun and not pricey. I had a couple of beers with my dad and I loved it. My week has been like that finding the good things around campus that feel safe. We found the best routes for day and night around campus and the places I need to be from my carrel at the library and where security offices are, the medical services and even the hours the laundry is open. I wanted to go a couple of places around town, like the Getty, but we walked around and ate at the places we found, did laundry and stayed.
This coming week we are going to the beach and the art gallery, I wanted to get tickets to the Griffith Observatory but none are available while he is here. I don't have a hard time standing on my own two feet. It's hard studying but I make myself do that too. It's hard not feeling a part of where you are, where I have to be, for the next few years. I have so much luck. I have a scholarship and I have an allowance from my family ancestry at home, and I am grateful for all of that.
My reasonable complaint is how to feel safe in a place where it is not. It's not cool and its threatening. Its worse when you miss home. He brought a couple of pictures that I didn't think about. That helped and we took pictures of he and I here and I'm going to sit and frame them and we are going to hang them. That helped. He showed me how to expand my area a bit and find the places easiest to go, and stay safe, think safe.
I'm still homesick and once I make my home again, it will be there and I'll never leave, perhaps travel a bit. I will have him here until we leave for Thanksgiving and I'll get to see home again. I can swim, surf (winter is the best time to surf at home), fresh fish, fruit. Although, there are good fresh foods here. That was another thing he has us find, grocery stores that sold "our food". He bought me a starter set of cookware that I'll add to, but it's mine and it is now part of my new home.
He said that when he traveled and when he found my mother, that there were a few places they lived that what helped the most was that regardless of where they moved into, having their things helped it feel like home. So now I have a few things that will go with me where I live, pictures and we are going shopping for a big sturdy chair and ottoman that will last forever and I can curl up and study in. First piece of furniture for me.
This week I feel so much less afraid and unhappy. I think it may be something that you and others have experienced and found or are still trying to.
Next week? Oh, well. I'm going through my closet and things and giving stuff away until it hurts, until I bleed, and I'm going to buy a good coat.
Please write soon! You guys help too.
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