Wednesday Aug 15'2012
8:48pm
Today I appreciate bathtubs. If nothing else, living in India has given me a new perspective on how blessed I am to live where I do. I have learned to appreciate everything I have and everything I have taken for granted or considered insignificant. Like drinkable tap water, Dairy Queen Blizzards, and bathtubs. God I could really use a bubble bath. But what I have learned to love the most about Canada is what I used to dislike the most; it's diversity. I used to complain about the fact that Canada has no real, individual culture and that we just steal everyone else's to become a giant melting pot of other people's everything. But what I didn't see is that this is exactly what makes us so amazing. So vast and full of life, life from all over the world. Being here, eating a slight variation of the same meal every night after night, I can't help but long for my country's little world culture. How much did I not realize how cool it is that I can go to Belgium for breakfast, Japan for lunch, Italy for dinner, then back home to relax over a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, a classic bag of ketchup chips, and my clean bare feet sprawled across a coffee table atop a clean wood floor (because even my house is clean compared to India). How lucky am I to have every nationality living under one star spangled roof. I can go to China Town (being in Vancouver, I practically live in Asia) and hell, if I'm ever missing India, Surrey is only a hop, skip, and a disgusting amount of traffic away. I can see women in saris right in my own back yard, and I can learn to hula dance at my friendly neighbourhood community centre. So if September rolls around and I have yet to discover my life altering purpose for spending my beloved summer in the armpit of the world, I can at least say it was to fall in love with my home. They do say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Thursday Aug 16'2012
6:45pm
Yesterday was India's Independence Day. Surprisingly, nothing really exciting happens. I was a little disappointed actually. Apparently I slept through all the fun stuff. And by slept through I mean just slept in general. I am sorry but unless there is a parade constructed entirely out of pickles and bacon, I see no reason to attend at SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Why? Why, out of all 24 hours in a day, would you choose 6am for a parade? Why? Then I guess other stuff happens which also has nothing to do with salty deliciousness so I obviously slept during that too. There was tradition that I did manage to experience (only because it happens throughout the entire day and is impossible to miss). Kites. Everyone flies kites. Isn't there a movie about Indians and Kites? The Kite Runner?... Nope, that's Afghanistan. Thanks google. Anyway, as I was saying, everyone flighs Kites. Everyone, everywhere. The streets, at work, even gas station attendants will roll their eyes at you when you pull in to get gas because you're forcing them away from their high flying fun. But most people will be found on their terraces; families, kids, full grown men, spending hours upon hours navigating through a kite filled sky. They even make a game out of it. It's called, stay the hell out of my way or I'll cut your kite down with mine. I played for all of about 30 seconds before I got cut. It only makes sense really, they cut you off on the road, they cut you down in the air. Regardless of who is cutting whom, the sky is just littered with little flying squares. It's really cool to see, especially from the road. As we drove to the Lotus temple, every rooftop was crowded with little tiny stick figures and what looked like square shaped birds floating above them. On and on for miles as we drove, the image continued. This was much more interesting than the Lotus Temple. Granted, I got a migraine after only 10 minutes of being there (seriously, my body has completely rebelled against this country) but I wouldn't have wanted to stay any longer anyway. It was a hollow building shaped like a metal flower, surrounded by a very plain pool. Actually, the landscape surrounding the temple was really the only thing that I was drawn to. Green as far as you could see. Absolutely stunning. The land would be the only reason worth staying. Under different circumstances, I would have stayed and just laid on the emerald grass and rolled around. Maybe climb a tree, run zig zags across the open field, feeling the warm breeze against my face. But since I couldn't feel my face, we went home. Ya it was a bust, but I can add it to my list of bragging rights. So there.
Friday Aug 17'2012
11:15am
I had a dream last night that I was back home in a grocery store with my brother. We were passing through isles when I realized I never got him anything from India. I had meant to but didn't get around to it. The all these things that I had wanted to do and wanted to get flooded my mind and I started balling my eyes out in the middle of the sporting goods section (apparently grocery store have these). As we continued down each isle, I got more and more worked up about all the things I didn't do. And then we passed the chocolate section and I couldn't find any Take Five Bars, and it hit me that I could never get the things I ate and loved in India here at home. And I cried even more. No badam milk, no shrikhand. I became hysterical. My brother tried to calm me down by giving me a rye sandwich he had made and packed for me but I dropped it just as the grocery store floor opened up into a black abyss and swallowed it. My brother tries to assure me that he has another while he fishes through his bag, but when he looks up I'm completely naked.
I don't think I really need to think all that hard about what my subconscious is trying to tell me. It's blatantly obvious. And I hear you inner Chelsea, wise and all knowing. Loud and clear. Except the naked part. That, I'll have to stew on. But I do love being naked...
8:48pm
Today I appreciate bathtubs. If nothing else, living in India has given me a new perspective on how blessed I am to live where I do. I have learned to appreciate everything I have and everything I have taken for granted or considered insignificant. Like drinkable tap water, Dairy Queen Blizzards, and bathtubs. God I could really use a bubble bath. But what I have learned to love the most about Canada is what I used to dislike the most; it's diversity. I used to complain about the fact that Canada has no real, individual culture and that we just steal everyone else's to become a giant melting pot of other people's everything. But what I didn't see is that this is exactly what makes us so amazing. So vast and full of life, life from all over the world. Being here, eating a slight variation of the same meal every night after night, I can't help but long for my country's little world culture. How much did I not realize how cool it is that I can go to Belgium for breakfast, Japan for lunch, Italy for dinner, then back home to relax over a cup of hot chocolate with marshmallows, a classic bag of ketchup chips, and my clean bare feet sprawled across a coffee table atop a clean wood floor (because even my house is clean compared to India). How lucky am I to have every nationality living under one star spangled roof. I can go to China Town (being in Vancouver, I practically live in Asia) and hell, if I'm ever missing India, Surrey is only a hop, skip, and a disgusting amount of traffic away. I can see women in saris right in my own back yard, and I can learn to hula dance at my friendly neighbourhood community centre. So if September rolls around and I have yet to discover my life altering purpose for spending my beloved summer in the armpit of the world, I can at least say it was to fall in love with my home. They do say, absence makes the heart grow fonder.
Thursday Aug 16'2012
6:45pm
Yesterday was India's Independence Day. Surprisingly, nothing really exciting happens. I was a little disappointed actually. Apparently I slept through all the fun stuff. And by slept through I mean just slept in general. I am sorry but unless there is a parade constructed entirely out of pickles and bacon, I see no reason to attend at SIX O'CLOCK IN THE MORNING. Why? Why, out of all 24 hours in a day, would you choose 6am for a parade? Why? Then I guess other stuff happens which also has nothing to do with salty deliciousness so I obviously slept during that too. There was tradition that I did manage to experience (only because it happens throughout the entire day and is impossible to miss). Kites. Everyone flies kites. Isn't there a movie about Indians and Kites? The Kite Runner?... Nope, that's Afghanistan. Thanks google. Anyway, as I was saying, everyone flighs Kites. Everyone, everywhere. The streets, at work, even gas station attendants will roll their eyes at you when you pull in to get gas because you're forcing them away from their high flying fun. But most people will be found on their terraces; families, kids, full grown men, spending hours upon hours navigating through a kite filled sky. They even make a game out of it. It's called, stay the hell out of my way or I'll cut your kite down with mine. I played for all of about 30 seconds before I got cut. It only makes sense really, they cut you off on the road, they cut you down in the air. Regardless of who is cutting whom, the sky is just littered with little flying squares. It's really cool to see, especially from the road. As we drove to the Lotus temple, every rooftop was crowded with little tiny stick figures and what looked like square shaped birds floating above them. On and on for miles as we drove, the image continued. This was much more interesting than the Lotus Temple. Granted, I got a migraine after only 10 minutes of being there (seriously, my body has completely rebelled against this country) but I wouldn't have wanted to stay any longer anyway. It was a hollow building shaped like a metal flower, surrounded by a very plain pool. Actually, the landscape surrounding the temple was really the only thing that I was drawn to. Green as far as you could see. Absolutely stunning. The land would be the only reason worth staying. Under different circumstances, I would have stayed and just laid on the emerald grass and rolled around. Maybe climb a tree, run zig zags across the open field, feeling the warm breeze against my face. But since I couldn't feel my face, we went home. Ya it was a bust, but I can add it to my list of bragging rights. So there.
Friday Aug 17'2012
11:15am
I had a dream last night that I was back home in a grocery store with my brother. We were passing through isles when I realized I never got him anything from India. I had meant to but didn't get around to it. The all these things that I had wanted to do and wanted to get flooded my mind and I started balling my eyes out in the middle of the sporting goods section (apparently grocery store have these). As we continued down each isle, I got more and more worked up about all the things I didn't do. And then we passed the chocolate section and I couldn't find any Take Five Bars, and it hit me that I could never get the things I ate and loved in India here at home. And I cried even more. No badam milk, no shrikhand. I became hysterical. My brother tried to calm me down by giving me a rye sandwich he had made and packed for me but I dropped it just as the grocery store floor opened up into a black abyss and swallowed it. My brother tries to assure me that he has another while he fishes through his bag, but when he looks up I'm completely naked.
I don't think I really need to think all that hard about what my subconscious is trying to tell me. It's blatantly obvious. And I hear you inner Chelsea, wise and all knowing. Loud and clear. Except the naked part. That, I'll have to stew on. But I do love being naked...
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