In our entry orientation Alliance
warned us that culture shock consists of three main steps: enchantment,
irritation, and enthrallment. The first is an initial sensory bombardment with an
internal monologue somewhere along the lines of “Oh, look over there! The
colors! Wow, this is incredible! I can’t believe that I’m here! Why didn’t I
come sooner? Nothing could ever be bad in a place as vibrant as this!” And I
was certainly in that zone for the first week or so.
Then I shifted towards
disappointment, lethargy, and a longing for a simple routine. As previous posts
can attest to, I had a couple of difficult weeks. Getting across the city was
an ordeal, my internship was infuriating, and overall I was missing my creature
comforts (I would still trade a lot for a hairdryer). But I’m glad to say, with lots of apologies to those who
have had to listen to me complain, I’ve turned a corner (and just in time with exactly a month having passed since my departure from DC).
I am now solidly in stage three
where I spend my time desperately visiting different areas of the city, listing
everywhere I still want to see, lamenting that I don’t have time to go to
Mumbai, and trying to figure out how to get back to India, and soon. I savor
each cold coffee as if it’s my last, frantically text Indian friends (to whom I
owe most of the credit for the change in my attitude—literally, some of the
nicest, most hospitable, helpful people I have ever met), treat each rickshaw
ride as my own private tour of the city, and walk the streets with a bounce in
my step and my held high because at this point, I belong here dammit.
As many predicted before I left, India
has invaded my heart and mind. And at this point, and I’m pretty positive it’s
not going to let go until I satisfy my craving for this exotic, colorful,
diverse, irritating, majestic, friendly, puzzling, wonderful country.
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