Knock Knock!

We have begun our countdown (17 days until Istanbul!) and begun the requisite process of moving halfway across the globe. Namely, packing boxes to courier, sorting what to keep/donate/sell and then of course selling and packing the various piles. I hate moving. Always have. This doesn't feel too stressful, however, because we only have what we came with and a few things we have picked up along the way.
How much could we possibly bring back? How long could it possibly take to pack it all up?

When a teacher leaves Woodstock, it's a big deal. Since we returned to campus in February people have been claiming various household items. "Can I have your comforter when you go?" "Has anyone claimed your area rugs?" I didn't mind, it was one less item for me to try and sell come Spring. However, now that Spring is here, people are obsessed with trying to get the best deal on items from departing staff. Word spreads quickly around the hillside once the ayah's catch wind of you leaving. Last week and early this week I have had a steady stream of sari-clad women banging on my door trying to get "Good deal! No too much!" on our baby clothes and kitchen appliances. At first, I thought that I needed to allow this; after all, it is a well-established practice here. But yesterday I hit my breaking point. Someone banged on our door during the hallowed, holy, respected, sacred nap-time and woke Oliver. I boiled inside. They also wanted to pay only half of what everything is marked. They, like everyone else who has come over looking to buy things, went through our rooms asking if they could buy everything on the walls and beds (no) and opening our kitchen cabinets (stop that). I shooed them out, exasperated. I had had enough already.
I walked Oliver to school and asked our friend to write me a sign in Hindi that reads "Please do not knock on this door. Our sale is June 10th from 2-4. You can come and buy things only on that day."

I thought I had it all figured out. Then this morning came a pounding (which we ignored) and later a ringing phone (my fault for not taking it off the hook) from our neighbor's house. It was his ayah wanting to come over. Nope. June 10th. See you then.

In the meantime, we received word that our couriered packages are held up in customs. Naturally. And that it will cost more money to get them out. Of course. At this point, I really do not care. I get this way once a moving date comes close enough. I have visions for throwing all our possessions out a window and just walking away. India, more than any other experience in my life, has taught me what matters and just how much I need. I don't need much. Good health care would be nice, but beyond that, I have had everything I need to thrive here. Everything else is just stuff. Stuff weighs you down and limits you. Stuff is expendable. We are each selling half our wardrobes and all our appliances and most of Oliver's toys. We can decide to get new things when we get to the states, or not. We won't miss them. We don't need them. I prefer to travel light and live light. I am thinking of packing up our remaining clothes and delivering them to the people who live under the tarps on the way to the bazaar. Take it, we don't need it. The ayah's can have the rest for free, I really do not care. Just do not wake the baby. Never wake a sleeping baby. Fear the wrath of a mother of a waken baby.

Imbalanced but Happy

Well, it finally happened. I have come full circle on my views and feelings about India. I am really, really happy here. Every international teacher and expat friend we have had has always said if you can make it through the first year, you've done it. I get that now. This year has been such a struggle. India has been hard on my body, my mind, my marriage, my confidence, my anxiety...it fed into all of it. My therapist would tell me that people can suppress things for only so long; sooner or later it will all bubble up and it will usually be during a trying and stressful time. This was when all my anxiety was overwhelming me my last two stressful years as a teacher. But during this very unique year, I can't blame it all on India. Raising a young child is hard. Harder than anyone had prepared me for. It's the most fun I have ever had but I am spent in every possible way come 5:30 and then I still have to get dinner out. I have to remember that being a stay at home mom would be challenging anywhere, not just on a mountain-top in India.

I have this perma-bloat thing going on in my abdomen. Not matter how I adjust my diet or my exercise routine, nothing seems to make it go away (and no, I am not pregnant).  I have had a complete work-up checking for parasites/illness and I have a bacteria in my (ahem) stool that the doctor said "happens in India" and that "it will go away once you leave." Okaaaay. Let's hope so. 

My thyroid is also getting wonky. It's no surprise, really, with all the stress surrounding relocating again and find new jobs. I am trying to get it back under control, but feeling uneven and imbalanced in the process. Sigh. 

Our marriage has been rocky and wonderful here. Any insecurities or concerns we had have all bubbled up, sometimes rather unpleasantly, but when your common goal as a couple is resolution, you work hard to come back together. That said, it has not been as simple as "sticking together" as we had hoped. This is the year that we learned that marriage needs active participation and lots of communication; even if you are practically blind from exhaustion. I am also someone who needs alone time everyday. That is a challenge with a baby on your hip. I have learned to give it to myself, even if it means waking up before Andy and Oliver do to get it in. We are doing well, but India and school and the act of being new parents was at times quite a lot to handle.

There were times here that my confidence soared; times when I never knew I could be so brave and then there were times when it shocked me how timid I could be. Those were the interesting times to reflect on. Even yesterday, I changed into shorts when Oliver and I returned from lunch. It was 90 degrees, I was not comfortable in pants. Even though I was in my home, behind locked doors, I still found myself avoiding windows so that my neighbors could not see my bare legs. I laughed at myself when I realized just how "Indian" I had become. I never leave home without a scarf now, never bare my shoulders, only wear skinny jeans to and from the school and I have even stopped going into the bazaar by myself. I feel a bit like a shrinking violet, following these rules for women so long established. The truth is, I am happier following them. I am happier not attracting unwanted attention and advances; happier feeling a little more like those around me. What a code-switcher I have become!

We have made some plans and are excited and hopeful for the year ahead. We are not returning to Chicago; we are moving to Madison, Wisconsin. We have enjoyed a slower pace of life here and hope that Wisconsin will help us continue this pattern. We leave Mussoorie early morning on the 17th of June and drive to Delhi. We will spend the remainder of the afternoon and evening with my cousin, Amanda, who will be in Delhi before she leaves on a tour of India. We fly to Istanbul the next morning and spend five days there adjusting half-way to the time change and (very symbolically) walking across the bridge that separates Asia from the Western world. I can't wait. Then, we land at O'Hare on the 23rd.

These last weeks in India I am going to do my best to smile as much as possible, spend my time with the people I have come to love the most, and eat the food I am going to miss so much. We will also take some day trips to explore more of our surrounding area and start shipping things home. Now that the end is in sight, it's hard to believe it is almost time to go. It has gone so fast. I am thrilled I have come around to the beauty in the country before I left it. I am going to miss India and all it has done for me. I wrote in a previous post that I needed to get shaken. I am so glad I have taken this opportunity to get "shook".