I’m not scared, not yet. A new family, community, culture, language, city, food, wardrobe, point of view. They say the first stage of cultural shock is awe&joy, and this stage is the only one clearly in view.
But sometimes late at night I dwell on how in India you have to be bold because there are never lines, only pushing masses of assertive people, but you also have to be detached and respectful and critical and OK when men are treated with more respect than women. This a society American journalists’ claim “is poisoned by a deep hatred of women,” and I want to write about this, and work with organizations fighting for women’s rights.
I’m concerned too that I won’t be able to handle negotiating a new set of customs and an alien way of being – I barely know what to say and how to be brave and how to critique and love a place I’ve experienced all my life. I’m concerned that I about being a good host daughter. But I am so happy!
(photo courtesy of marcinasia via Tumblr)