(This was written in mid-January)

A brief and non-comprehensive summary of my time in India so far:

10: The number of nights I have spent on Indian trains.
44: The number of hours it took for Liz and I to reach Kerala (a southern state of
India) by train. Needless to say it was a very long journey.
6: The number of states in India I have visited
2: The number of times a man tried to sell me some “magic” mushrooms that
were guaranteed to cure cancer. Right
158: The number of sudoku puzzles I have solved (the office gets really boring
sometimes).
2: The number of snakes I have nearly stepped on.
3: The number of times my butt has been grabbed by random men on the street.
Don’t get me started on how infuriating and violating this is.
7: The number of Hindu weddings I have attended.
26: The number of books I have finished since I arrived in August.
1: The number of times I have been sick from Indian food (I’m inordinately
proud of this low number).
2: The number of journals I have filled since August.
3: The number of times I have been nearly gored by runaway cows (this is not an
exaggeration). I think I must have been a butcher in a past life.
3: The number of deliveries I have witnessed (I am now 100% positive that I
NEVER want to give birth).
1: The number of funerals I have attended.

Of course there are so many other details of my life here that I can’t count: eating with my hands, drinking chai, explaining why I’m not betrothed yet (I am after all practically a spinster here at 22), nearly dying in the rickshaw (my mantra is “I’m too young to die” when the trucks zoom past me), and answering the question “Where are you going? Why?”
It’s easy to get frustrated and frazzled by India. Most days I like it. Other days I hate it, if I’m being honest. I am still mystified by the culture and hierarchy here and as a result feel like an outsider. I recognize that I will never by fully integrated into the community here because of my skin color, gender, and position as an American. I am weary of being put on a pedestal because I have fair skin and blue eyes and find it very tiring to always have such a high profile. Sometimes, it’s nearly stifling to feel like I’m constantly in a fishbowl. I crave anonymity and freedom of movement.
There are so many things that I like about India, but sometimes I have to give myself permission to sulk.
Mary