Life after India

So here I am, 1 month later, sat in my house in the great British countryside, with clean clothes, a working shower, drinking water straight from the tap, sat on a comfy sofa, with a glass of red wine in hand. This is everything I missed while I was away so why doesn’t it feel as great as I imagined? I find myself missing so much I never thought I would while I was there; the hustle and bustle of the streets and trying to avoid getting run over. Buying freshly squeezed orange juice at the side of the road on a hot day. The jolly old man who owned our local corner shop who must have thought we had the worst diets ever! Feeling like the coolest, most attractive person ever while walking down the street even when in reality you actually look dreadful. Having people in my apartment keeping me awake at night playing the world’s loudest game of snakes and ladders. Having to shower under a waist-high tap. Being able to walk to the shops in my pyjamas with my face covered in paint without anyone looking twice. Forcing 5 people into a 3-seater auto and getting dead legs. The noise (it’s so quiet here!). Having a large group of friends nearby, always up for doing something and willing to act as tour guides. Countless invites to family dinners. Walking into school and being mobbed by a group of kids who look up to me even though I don’t really know what I’m talking about most of the time. Finding surprise videos of the kids misbehaving on my camera. Just generally being adored, though I am probably just misinterpreting fascination and good hospitality.

Basically, what I’m trying to say is I BLOODY MISS INDIA!