The third week. Already I can see myself falling into a pattern. Waking up. Riding an auto to go to work. Getting distracted a million times on the job (I really mean a million). Getting actual work done. Taking an auto to go back to the hostel. Reading, and then finally Sleeping.
Pretty interesting huh? It doesn’t sound like someone who is having the time of their life in India. Yet, I enjoy the stability and routine. I love riding autos by myself. I get to see the city and reflect. One night, while going back from work, I saw various people standing around waiting for the bus and young man pushing a cart full of mangos, bananas and lychees through the herd of people. I heard cars honking every three seconds (literally every three seconds). I smelled the fumes and chemicals emitted by cars, motorcycles and autos. There were many people walking between vehicles trying to sell balloons, flowers, and accessories. I felt sweat running down my back and felt the dry heat blast my face every time the auto moved. Anyone would hate to be uncomfortable like that, but I loved it. It reminded me of home.
Where is home you ask? Home is where the heart is of course! For me, that place is Senegal. Every time I step outside, I have to remind myself that I was not there. From the weather to the architecture of houses, the similarities tie me back to home. Of course, I am reminded very quickly that there were still many differences by the language barriers and stares. I do not mind however. It allows me to explore the unique aspects of India avoiding the discomfort that usually comes with traveling to another country. This probably explains why I was able to adapt faster than usual. I find myself falling in love with the place, the experiences and the people. It is very unusual to feel at home at a foreign place, yet, I am here filling fulfilled and happy.
I am excited to continue on this routine. Of course, what is a routine without a few surprises along the way. One of those surprises for me are the friends that I made at the hostel, Madpackers. At first, I was worried that I would be unable to live amongst strangers who wanted nothing to do with each other. Instead of that, I found a community of travelers who wanted to share their experiences and eager to form friendships. I met a person named Reshu that I fell in “friendship” at first sight ( if there is such as thing). We celebrated our newborn relationship by stuffing our faces with food at this nice place called Social. We had a great time trying new dishes and relishing over each other’s life experiences.
Week 4 is almost over, but I already feel at home. Only 6 more weeks to go. The more I think about it, the more I wish that time would go slower. One revelation that I am quickly coming to the conclusion of is that leaving is going to be much harder than I thought.