Stupid things I’ve done this week

I showed this blog to my coworkers, which might have been one of the stupider things I’ve done this week. That, in addition to leaving my microphone on during a staff meeting 🙂.

Another fun thing I did this week was sit in an economy-class plane seat for a bajillion hours so I could come back to the U.S., and by extension, UNC. Coming back to school was perhaps the stupidest thing I did this week — but oh well, here we are.

I spent my Winter Break in India, like I did in what is now a little more than a year ago. This time, I did not get food poisoning, much to my cousin Devesh’s chagrin. He was really rooting for me to choke on a raw tomato the entire trip.

Most of my days in India went something like this: I woke up at either my grandparents’ house or my aunt’s apartment, ate food, slept, ate food, slept some more, maybe went on a walk to a local bazaar or coffee shop, then slept. One particularly eventful day, I befriended a lungi-wearing baba at a relative’s house party.

Bathing in India, might I add, is also a rather unique experience. Where I spent most of my time in India, I used two plastic buckets full of hot water and a mug to wash myself. Let’s just say I’m very grateful for the continuously running water in the dorm showers right now.

On a more serious note, there’s a lot of things I feel conflicted on about the motherland.

I love my family in India, and I love the food and the movement and the community.

But I also see how it can be hard for immigrants to live away from elderly parents. I see how small towns in India don’t always have the greatest medical care available. And it sucks that my relatives push me to opt for longer skirts that leave my legs sticky in the heat, instead of the comfy denim shorts I typically slip on at home.

Another thing I’ve realized is a pretty American concept is the normalcy with which young people can (and do) pick up and do their own shit.

In India — not that one system is worse than the other — it seems like most folks live with their parents until they’re set in their official career, and parents pay for everything their kids need until that time comes.

Even my own parents, when I got my first job, mentioned that they initially felt confused as to why I wanted to work part-time in college since I grew up decently privileged.

More than money, working has been a way for me to establish my own sense of self. I don’t know whether I’d feel the urge to cultivate that sense of self had I grown up in the motherland.

Anyway. All this writing about work has made me realize that I’ve forgotten how to do whatever that is. I actually have assignments to do, so I should probably get on those.

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