bus tickets

Today I went through my journal from my India trip and decided to scan some of my sketches I had made while traveling. I realized one of the most amazingly striking pages in my whole journal was one that I never really intended to be art.

Every morning I would take the 202 city bus to work. For four rupees I would get a small little ticket stub--a scrap piece of paper the bus owner had stamped a ticket number on. Everyday was a different ticket. After purchasing a glue stick at the market, these little bits of paper quickly became my daily craft project. So many colors. So very India.

In America

A few days after I got back from India I went to the grocery store with my mom. I counted 15 different kinds of orange juice. I ended up buying the pulpy one with extra calcium.

Bathrooms in America have toilet paper. They all do, even the grungy gas station ones. No more hoses or buckets of water for me.

I'm in the United States of Toilet Paper and Huge Grocery Stores.

Transitioning back into non-travel, non-India, non-volunteering, non-hospital life has been bumpy. Comfy, but bumpy. I basically live the life of my dog, Monty. I sleep, I eat, I'm not allowed to cook any food (thank you, typhoid) and I go for walks. Then I nap again. My first few days back were spent eating home cooking and going to doctors appointments. I'm still in the midst of copious doctor visits and tests. As far as I can tell, I'm well on my way to being fully recovered. No more fevers, I'm slowly gaining some of my lost weight back and my stomach/liver isn't hurting as much anymore.

My home doctors have decided it is necessary for me to be tested for typhoid once a week for the next month. This news didn't surprise me. My typical doctor appointment usually starts with a prep nurse coming in to take my temperature and such. She kindly and politely asks, "And why are you here today?" "I got typhoid fever in India." "Ohh..." She is dumbfounded and her response is more of a gasp than a word. Then they call the Kaiser Infectious Disease Specialist...

This mysterious doctor is a man I've come to imagine fully, but have never actually met. My doctors usually consult this man when they find out I had typhoid. The t-word is something of concern, to say the least, of medical people of the Western world. I like to think this specialist is a guy who is immensely talented and yet immensely bored and useless in a country far far away from deadly mosquitoes and unsanitary water. He watches reruns of Lost and reads Michael Crichton novels all day. Framed photos of spider bites and tropical rashes line the walls his office. A little red phone sits on the edge of his desk. Then, one day, the phone rings and a bewildered nurse is on the other end. "Yes, Doctor, Ms. Reardon has... typhoid." The phone drops from his shaking hands...his eyes stare dreamily off into the distance, off into a world of gi-hugeous killer bugs and poopy water. He composes himself and orders dozens of tests on the poor, jet lagged girl. "It's game time."

There has been nothing drastically new found on any of the tests so far. I eagerly await my bill of clean health and the day when Mr. Infectious Disease Specialist goes back to being bored.

I've been home for two weeks now. These two weeks, though vacant of my lonely hospital time woes, have been very unsettling. It has been really amazing to be home with my family and friends. It's just odd to be pulled away from my life in Kolkata so quick. I'm still on Kolkata time. I don't go to sleep at night until I know all the Prem Dan volunteers are on their chai break. I wake up in the morning thinking about who's hanging out on the roof Hotel Maria as the sun finally goes away after a long day in the smoggy, sweaty heat.

There have been very loud reminders of why it is best that I am here at home. My first week back I got news that a friend of mine from high school had died in an accident on the Oregon Coast. Sokhak is an amazingly vibrant, loud, insane friend. His memorial service was absolutely absurd--exactly as Sokhak would have liked it. A Portland bar was filled with his open mic poet and musician friends (covered in tattoos and dripping in dreadlocks) alongside Hillsboro's cleanest and sweetest suburban families. The event was very sad, but I felt like there was this feeling in the room of joy and thankfulness at the same time. Everyone was happy to have an impromptu high school reunion and the message that rang loud as people went on the stage was one of loving life aggressively and passionately just like Sokhak. Sokhak worked a lot in community development and was someone I was friends with from day 1 freshmen year of high school. His next tattoo was going to read, "Yay, life!" He was weird and crazy and I'm so sad he's gone. It was nice to be able to introduce Ben to a lot of my high school friends and I'm glad I was home to be at the service. The whole thing made for an interesting first week back.

And now it is the end of week two in America, capped off with a horribly tragic terrorist attack in India and...Thanksgiving. When I first heard about the attacks in Mumbai I was most certainly in disbelief. I sat and stared at my computer screen, more specifically at the words 'targeted at tourists.' I didn't have plans to travel anywhere near Mumbai, nor have I heard of any of my volunteer friends being near there now, but nonetheless the news shook me. I stayed up all night watching live news on the bombings. Oh, and there are protesters at the Bangkok airport I was suppose to fly out of in a couple weeks. Gosh. I am glad to be home... but, it's hard not to feel weird eating a turkey dinner when catastrophic events are unfolding elsewhere in the world. Part of me just wishes I was somewhere that cared a little bit more about these issues, somewhere that didn't put stories of the attacks on page four behind the Black Friday shopping ads and Rose Bowl predictions.

I'm thankful for family, friends (old and new), overprotective doctors, a boy we all called Silk, artistic people, stuffing, milk from cows, peaceful democratic protests, cousins to stay up late with watching bad B movies, warm socks, canned cranberry sauce, hostages that were released and my dog.

Prem Dan

this is what i did. this is where i was.

BIG project

For those of you who don't know, I'm going to India in 39 days.

Yes, I'm counting.

I like to think of myself as a project-addict. This trip, however, is slightly bigger than my average project and is most certainly consuming my thoughts, time and emotional energy these days. The major purpose of my trip is to go and volunteer in Calcutta with Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity. Seattle University has been supporting students who wish to go volunteer with the MC's for over 23 years through their Calcutta Club. Many of my fellow Sullivan Scholars have made the trip. Volunteers work in one of the MC homes in Calcutta and have the option to choose a site preference. I haven't decided yet what type of work I want to do with the MC's. It'll likely be hospice type care in the elderly women's home, Perm Dan, or childcare center work in Shishu Bhavan, home to children with mental disabilities. I doubt I'll decide which volunteer site I want to be at until I'm actually there for orientation. It's not really a hard decision. I know any choice would be equally rewarding and overwhelming. Right now I'm leaning towards Shishu Bhavan primarily because I know how happy I am when I work with children. And in a place as exceedingly challenging as Calcutta I'm going to need laughing little kiddos to get me through the day. If my volunteer work a few months ago in Belize at the Dorthy Menzie Childcare Center is any indication, I'll be in love with the children within days of arriving and angry at myself when I leave them.

I will be leaving the states on September 21st to fly to Bangkok, Thailand. From there I will be meeting up with two other Calcutta Club members, Joe and Traci (frequent characters in my upcoming blog stories, for sure). We hope to spend a week or so exploring and acclimating in Bangkok. From there we will fly together to Calcutta. I hope to make time to make short trips to Darjeeling and Agra (at least). The last month of my trip will be spent (hopefully...this is all tentative) heading north to Nepal to do a two week trek in Nepal to Base Camp at Mt. Everest. Whoa. From there I will part ways with my traveling buddies to head over to Dehra Dun to visit the Ashram that my boyfriend, Ben spent time in with our good friend Chad who was volunteering there for a year. And then it's homeward bound... But, not before an awesomely long layover in South Korea. I'll be in Seoul for 12 hours. Just enough time to see a few markets or temples and eat some fish head soup, according to this dude's blog.

If my itinerary sounds ambitious, blame my damn worldly friends.

It's funny how many of my friends have traveled to India. Perhaps there's a bit of romanticism fueling this whole shebang... I've been hearing stories of backpacking in India since I was in 5th grade in Marcelle's class at Mooberry Elementary School. So, Mom and Dad, if you still feel some anxiety about me going abroad, blame Marcelle. She planted the travel seed. Living in Seattle and going to travel-happy-SU only further perpetuated my craving for India-ness. A whole slew of my friends have made the trek. Let me show you:

Sarah in Calcutta working at Perm Dan.

Zach in Calcutta, being a dork.

Brig with the Sisters in Calcutta.

John and Sophie at the Guest House I'll be living in. FYI: Sophie is a bad ass and shaved her head in Calcutta. Big inspiration for my chopping-off-of-hair incident.

Megan (middle) in Darjeeling. She's not normally purple. This photo was taken during Holi festival.

Maddy, Maddy, Maddy looking adorable with her henna on a train in India.

Last, and hairest, Ben and Chad singing with the kids in the Ashram.

Thank you, numerous friends who have traveled to India, thank you for making me excited to leave and thank you for not laughing at my stupid questions about travel underwear and thank you for giving me tips on where to eat and what to see and how to avoid the double dragon. Thank you.