Bryan Adams' greatest hits will forever be my personal soundtrack to India.
I've developed the impolite Indian habit of reading over people's shoulders as they write emails at internet cafes. The man next to me, probably no older than I, is writing a love letter to a woman I do not think he has ever met. He calls her a rare pearl and says that he cannot stop thinking about her. He says that he hopes that god eases all of her burdens and brings joy to her life. Part of me wishes that in his broken English, he was writing to me.
I don't think that I will ever be able to get used to receiving news (both good and bad) from people I love over the computer. I can never fully believe the computer. I am oddly comforted by this fact.
I received an email today asking me for to inteview for a position with Directions for Our Youth, a non-profit for which I would work as a community organizer in the Bronx conducting workshops on leadership, community service, and teamwork for inner-city teens. The thought of this terrifies me.
The idea of being a grownup terrifies me. I don't see how so many people I know can do it.
I think that since I have been in India I have become less sure of myself, but in a quiet, humbling sort of way. In a way in which belief in my own capabilities turns into a modest fear and hope that I can achieve what I think that I want. I'm honestly not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
Tomorrow I leave Becki and her home of Gangtok to embark on a whirlwind tour of other parts of India including Varanasi, Jaipur, and posssibly Amritsar. My parents told me that if I wanted to travel with my friends instead of them, they wouldn't hold a grudge. I don't believe them. I decided to continue to travel with them, but not because I think they would hold a grudge. Because I want to.
Natalie sent me a hug via email to Becki. This makes me happy.
I don't think that I will ever be able to get used to receiving news (both good and bad) from people I love over the computer. I can never fully believe the computer. I am oddly comforted by this fact.
I received an email today asking me for to inteview for a position with Directions for Our Youth, a non-profit for which I would work as a community organizer in the Bronx conducting workshops on leadership, community service, and teamwork for inner-city teens. The thought of this terrifies me.
The idea of being a grownup terrifies me. I don't see how so many people I know can do it.
I think that since I have been in India I have become less sure of myself, but in a quiet, humbling sort of way. In a way in which belief in my own capabilities turns into a modest fear and hope that I can achieve what I think that I want. I'm honestly not sure if this is a good thing or a bad thing.
Tomorrow I leave Becki and her home of Gangtok to embark on a whirlwind tour of other parts of India including Varanasi, Jaipur, and posssibly Amritsar. My parents told me that if I wanted to travel with my friends instead of them, they wouldn't hold a grudge. I don't believe them. I decided to continue to travel with them, but not because I think they would hold a grudge. Because I want to.
Natalie sent me a hug via email to Becki. This makes me happy.