Its a month....
I have successfully survived past thirty one days of hardship, thirty days of melancholy away from mom, dad and friends, Thirty days of numbing cold, tiring documentations, gloomy days, lack-lustre festivals, bankruptcy & depression.
Yes, I have survived the first thirty days of this ordeal.
Little did I know before setting foot on the Emirates flight to Washington DC via Dubai that the rosy picture people paint of the US is just that... A rosy picture! A well guarded secret.
Agree, some people have it easier than others, but there's no denying that every one goes through this cultural shock, albeit of varying degrees and for varying durations.
The petty things we take for granted back home, so petty that they don't even register in our conscious minds are the ones that hit us the hardest in the first few days here.
I remember, how I would complain about the mindless crowd. In India, especially in a metro like Kolkata or Mumbai, you cannot take two steps without bumping into someone. There isn't a slice of earth or sky that you can claim as yours. Wherever you go, a swarm of people appear to
either follow through or tag along. How I would wish for a solitary existence, crave for a moment away from the never ending ruckus. And one day when my wish was suddenly granted, all I wanted was to run away.
I hear all sorts of noises here,.. cars zooming past, planes taking off, fire brigades blowing sirens, the hiss of rain, the rustling of leaves, people shovelling snow... but there are no voices..it doesn't matter if its English or native Spanish or chinese or mandarin, I just want to hear real people talk for a change.
And its not just the absence of voices, but the absence of people in general that bothers me. If you manage to take a walk on a cold afternoon, you'd have to be really lucky to sight another man. Worse still are festivals like Xmas or the new years eve. It feels more like a mass strike, what with shops shut, no decorations, closed offices and people all holed up inside houses.
As funny as human psychology is, I have started missing the same cacophony, that I used to hate with all my heart.
Back home I used to crave for a park for walking or jogging. But all I had were dusty concrete or potholed pitch, honking cars or illegal hawkers. Here, I have miles and miles of clean, landscaped footpath. I can stroll, walk, jog, run or simply stand and gaze at the natural beauty around. But I dread walking, something that I have never done in my life before. well except the summer days when the mercury would easily touch 43* c. Walking in the cold, with or without the snow is torturous.
I have plenty to complain about if I wish to. Between good and bad experiences, the scale for now is heavily tilted towards the later. Life is tough here, especially for someone who is new and alone. A lot of things don't make sense and you can not anticipate the way people are going to react.
Having said that, everything can't be wrong about the big American dream, just like despite a million flaws, India is still my beloved home, my soil, my root.
I feel, it all boil downs to the grass being always greener on the other side. Those who crib about things in india when they stay there, crib about their very absence when they are abroad. I unfortunately belong to the clan.
So of all the small and big lessons I continue to gather with each passing day, this one will perhaps be pinned at the top of my mind.
"No land is perfect, not even the one, established by popular folklore. Like beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, acceptance resides in the heart of the traveller.
Instead of complaining about every stumble for the rest of my stay, I choose to learn, embrace & cherish the good, bad and the ugly experiences. Hopefully when I am back home, I would be more appreciative of the the things I have grown up loathing.
I have successfully survived past thirty one days of hardship, thirty days of melancholy away from mom, dad and friends, Thirty days of numbing cold, tiring documentations, gloomy days, lack-lustre festivals, bankruptcy & depression.
Yes, I have survived the first thirty days of this ordeal.
Little did I know before setting foot on the Emirates flight to Washington DC via Dubai that the rosy picture people paint of the US is just that... A rosy picture! A well guarded secret.
Agree, some people have it easier than others, but there's no denying that every one goes through this cultural shock, albeit of varying degrees and for varying durations.
The petty things we take for granted back home, so petty that they don't even register in our conscious minds are the ones that hit us the hardest in the first few days here.
I remember, how I would complain about the mindless crowd. In India, especially in a metro like Kolkata or Mumbai, you cannot take two steps without bumping into someone. There isn't a slice of earth or sky that you can claim as yours. Wherever you go, a swarm of people appear to
either follow through or tag along. How I would wish for a solitary existence, crave for a moment away from the never ending ruckus. And one day when my wish was suddenly granted, all I wanted was to run away.
I hear all sorts of noises here,.. cars zooming past, planes taking off, fire brigades blowing sirens, the hiss of rain, the rustling of leaves, people shovelling snow... but there are no voices..it doesn't matter if its English or native Spanish or chinese or mandarin, I just want to hear real people talk for a change.
And its not just the absence of voices, but the absence of people in general that bothers me. If you manage to take a walk on a cold afternoon, you'd have to be really lucky to sight another man. Worse still are festivals like Xmas or the new years eve. It feels more like a mass strike, what with shops shut, no decorations, closed offices and people all holed up inside houses.
As funny as human psychology is, I have started missing the same cacophony, that I used to hate with all my heart.
Back home I used to crave for a park for walking or jogging. But all I had were dusty concrete or potholed pitch, honking cars or illegal hawkers. Here, I have miles and miles of clean, landscaped footpath. I can stroll, walk, jog, run or simply stand and gaze at the natural beauty around. But I dread walking, something that I have never done in my life before. well except the summer days when the mercury would easily touch 43* c. Walking in the cold, with or without the snow is torturous.
I have plenty to complain about if I wish to. Between good and bad experiences, the scale for now is heavily tilted towards the later. Life is tough here, especially for someone who is new and alone. A lot of things don't make sense and you can not anticipate the way people are going to react.
Having said that, everything can't be wrong about the big American dream, just like despite a million flaws, India is still my beloved home, my soil, my root.
I feel, it all boil downs to the grass being always greener on the other side. Those who crib about things in india when they stay there, crib about their very absence when they are abroad. I unfortunately belong to the clan.
So of all the small and big lessons I continue to gather with each passing day, this one will perhaps be pinned at the top of my mind.
"No land is perfect, not even the one, established by popular folklore. Like beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder, acceptance resides in the heart of the traveller.
Instead of complaining about every stumble for the rest of my stay, I choose to learn, embrace & cherish the good, bad and the ugly experiences. Hopefully when I am back home, I would be more appreciative of the the things I have grown up loathing.
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