Written this morning, July 8th, 2013:
I’ve completely lost all sense of time and place. I know for a fact that I’m in India, but I can’t begin to comprehend what that means. Perhaps if I stepped outside it’d become clear, but I can’t be so sure anymore. It was the same in Italy; I understood that I was in fact in Italy, but even while I was out the whole day and going to different places I couldn’t comprehend it fully.
So now I’m in India. How did that happen? When did I get here? It’s July 8th my computer tells me, but how did I live so much during the month of June that I am now lost? How does enjoying oneself too much lead to so much confusion?
If I had a plan for the fall, if I knew even remotely where I was going to be, what place I was going to call home and what people I was going to interact with on a regular basis, then maybe this would be easier. As it is, I don’t even know if it’s possible for me to have a plan with the state I’m in. After two sleepless night, I slept last night at 5 am, then was woken up by the people who came to clean the apartment at noon. I went back to sleep, woke up just now, and since my computer’s not set for India (or even the UK or Italy!) I have no idea what time it is. Calculating time differences between Houston and the UK and then between the UK and here is too much effort. All I know is that it is now 7:28 am in Houston, whatever that means. Oh, and the internet’s not connecting.
So time now for a gazillion istikharas. Self reflection, putting things into perspective, which, amazingly, I didn’t do a whole lot of during the past month.
I also really need to sit down and just write. I’ve needed to so much the past several weeks but I didn’t have time or enough time alone. I must write everything down before it’s lost. It’s too beautiful to lose.
Sidra and I were talking near the end of my trip and she commented on how she’d noticed that I’d changed, just in the 3 weeks that I’d been with her. I was so excited when I got there, like a little kid who’s just entered Disney World, and then, by the end of my 3-4 weeks, I had calmed down, “gotten it out of my system.”
The thing is, I know I’d changed. But I hadn’t expected to, at least not at that level. I hadn’t expected my trip to be that amazing. I’d been worried about so many things. So much could go wrong: I would miss my parents; I would get bored wandering around by myself; Sidra and I would begin to get irritated with each other. Not only did none of that happen, it turned out to be the complete opposite.
And boy did I need to get that out of my system. I can’t remember the last time I’d needed something so much. I also can’t remember the last time something so exceeded my expectations. Even with all the heartbreak and sadness. I needed that as much as I needed the good times. I needed the uncomfortableness, the awkwardness that goes along with living with a family that’s not your own for close to a month. Allah reward them for everything. I must have been uncomfortable for about 10 minutes every 3 days, which is absolutely nothing. The kindest, most generous, sweetest family in the entire world. And I was blessed to have them as my second family in the UK.
And of course I had Modern Vampires of the City to keep me company. To hold me up, help me feel normal and at home. There’s such comfort in that album for me now. Vampire Weekend hasn’t produced one single song that I haven’t fallen in love with, but this album is really something else. I think it’s Ezra’s voice, or it’s the beats, or it’s the lyrics, or it’s just everything combined. God, I really love them.