ACTUALLY

In three days it will be exactly a month since I first arrived in India.  It has all been a well-deserved break if I may say, from the hustle and bustle of Metro Manila, and from my otherwise erratic sense of belongingness to nowhere in particular.  The endless quest to chase some open door has somehow come to a halt, and I am actually exercising the greatest of all prayer, patience.

Here, that is all I have done so far, being patient and taking my time.  I kind of miss the days when I did not have time to actually smell the flowers (I never thought sampaguita, our national flower actually smells wonderful!), and sleeping was just something I had to do so as to keep my sanity intact. Sleep was usually induced, and it was not at all restful.  Here, I have enjoyed sleeping without actually taking anything at all. I have also started mastering an Indian dish called Shahi Paneer (Shahi for tomatoes and paneer for cottage cheese) and I am actually learning to appreciate eating plain vegetable dishes.  Here, I am also taking long walks not only to familiarize myself with the different turns and roundabouts of the streets, but to just actually enjoy walking while chatting with my roommate as we talk about India in general and smell the street foods and incense along the way.

Yes, I think that my roommate Jen and I could actually be potential good friends not only because we both love dogs and that we love Big Mac quarter pounder with extra cheese, but also because we both feel the same for India and that it was India that chose us not the other way around.  She arrived here at the start of winter season last year, while, I on the other hand, have arrived here at the end of summer here, and supposedly the beginning of Monsoon. At the time she was probably weighing things to come up with a concrete decision to actually say yes to India, I was on the brink of calling it quits with the whole idea of holding on and hoping and dreaming was something I did not do in the waking. And for some reasons, she found me, just as I was looking for someone to talk to about a possible placement in Orissa. 

I have never been a firm believer of fate since I first had a broken heart over a dream, but so far, things have been leading me towards believing the possibility of it.  I cannot even repeat the word twice for fear that I might actually convince myself that it does happen, and that it can actually happen even to someone as cynical as I am.  Maybe it is just a twisted definition for an accidental event or a coincidence.  Whatever it is, it is actually giving me a small tug in the stomach.

I must also admit that I hate the honking of vehicles in the streets and I think that there should be a proper place to keep the cows from roaming around, and that it is rude to stare at strangers, but these are just a few things that would eventually lead me to what I must have come here for in the first place.

I can say that you can actually smell a cow’s dung when you cross the streets, and gender inequality seems like a way of life out here, but then at the end of the day, there is always a reason for everything.  I may not like it but who is to say that it is not right.

I can bitch all day about how my day is just as boring as the day before, or worse than the previous day, and I can be unstoppable doing just that because my very nature would dictate that I should, but then that would defeat the purpose of my reason for being actually here and actually living here for a year.

It is not being politically correct, or that I may have instilled in me the preparing for change training that we all had to attend in order to understand somehow the meaning of volunteerism.  I am not trying to be politically correct and this is not a disclaimer.  This is actually an exercise of free speech, and I am only thinking out loud.

Eventually, when all else fail, and when I have to succumb to my being just as human as everyone else, at least I have something to remind me that it will pass, that we all go through it, and that it is nothing like what I have been through before coming over.

I am here to experience India and hopefully be able to share what little experiences I have earned from working with WWF-Philippines back home in a small island southernmost part of the Philippine islands, and including those experiences I have had from living away from home in the metropolis of the National Capital Region of my beloved country.

Jen, my Irish roommate once asked me, after I told her about a third-world country comment made by one of the serving volunteers, that coming from a third-world country myself, what indeed brought me here? I could have given her a Miss Universe-like answer and snap back world peace as my answer, but I told her that I have my professional and personal reasons.

I came to share an experience, live an experience and bring back home the lessons I have learned, and to heal and be patient.

It is not about the color of the skin.  It is not even about the height.  As for the serving Filipino volunteers, we can always take the small table for buffet-like lunches prepared mostly by Filipinos, without a grain of salt, but always with a grin.   

It is a give and take journey for me and I intend to make the most out of it no matter what.  I have been warned not to be all heart in fulfilling my assignment here or else I would just disappoint myself when I return home.  I have been warned not to take things seriously, and to just enjoy the whole experience.  I intend to do just that too and hopefully more than just that. 

I shall taste it and chew it bit by bit, like the yellow dal.  I cannot understand what it is made of and sometimes it does taste a bit funny, but it is a fusion of spices and color.  You may not like it at first, but eventually you will get used to its chilliness, saltiness and spiciness, and your taste buds will adjust to it eventually, and then to your surprise, you might actually like it.  India is actually like the yellow dal to me. I may not like it at first, but eventually I will.  I think I will. I know I will.