Superiority, difference, and how we make friends
Saying yes to a system I swore off at 7
I woke up this morning and I was permeated by a feeling I can't quite describe. It was something about the birds twittering away as the sun rose, the spring I could smell on the air, or the fact that I was reminded yet again that I'm in freaking India.
'I am afraid of talking to people, being an asshole, and running out of things to write. Other people's lists of fears may run a little more like, being randomly murdered, spiders, and heights.
In lieu of the recent violence spreading like communion wine across the dirty carpet of the United States, I - and many of you - have been thinking about violent crime more than ever. In this new world, all of us - immigrants, minorities, women, or anyone who has the audacity to believe in, seemingly, anything - must keep our eyes peeled for flying steel, grasping hands, and social profiling.
For those who have watched “Pirates of the Caribbean,” you will recall that Capitain Jack Sparrow’s compass points to his greatest desire. For him that was loads of money, for me, I have always assumed it was a home, somewhere I could return to to think over what had happened in my world that day. But recently I realized that if my greatest desire were home, then my compass is now entirely confused because I am officially homeless.
Between the yearly anniversary of a family death, and a visit to the Golden temple I have learned a lot about sikhism and found that it rings much truer than traditional western views
A pic of the school that has been both my bane and my boon for the last month.
I cried for the first time today - a messy snotty, obnoxious, chest paining cry. I then listened to "Remind me" by Ginny Owens on repeat for about 30 mins, and fell asleep. There were three reasons for this outburst:
The hardened sugar candies I was given as a gift by the Hijra
This past week has been chock full of experiences which range from the spiritual to the mundane. Between receiving gifts from the guru I spoke of in my previous post, helping my new bhan (sister) study for her midterms, and watching the streets fill with water as monsoon season continues in full force, I didn't have much time to stop and think over everything that had happened, but as I sat in a bank looking at the people around me, I realized that in the US we don't have religious freedom at all, we have religious tolerance.
I have always hated that as a white person I would never be part of a culture and heritage as beautiful as the Indian one and that the history of the white person was one of racism, tyranny, and genocide. I realized today, however, that hating those things had turned into a more basal disgust for the simple color of my skin, and had led to a nasty mixer of ungratefulness, and narcissism
Elianna DeSota is a young teacher who is obsessed with deep diving into new cultures and ideas. Right now she is on a journey to discover more about India and herself before jumping into the next chapter of her life.