30-minute victories

My bedroom window

How much can you really learn about the place around you during the first 30 minutes that you’ve been awake? I never knew or maybe understood the potential for how much there is to learn in such a short period of time. In some ways I feel like a sponge of sorts, taking in all of the information, and when I think that I’m full and can’t take anymore, I do, and the realm of my perceived possibilities and understanding of life around me continues to expand.

I should have gone to sleep earlier last night, but I didn’t. I stayed up until I could barely keep my eyes open because there was so much that I needed to do, namely write

about my experiences because this time has been so formative.

So this morning I woke up to a loud knock at my door. "Ugh,” I didn’t tell Sushma DiDi what I wanted to eat today, and I only have one egg instead of two and she’s going to wonder what else I will have to eat if I only have one egg left, and if I say one egg, she will be concerned that I haven’t gotten enough food and I don't know enough Hindi to ask her to make me something else. So I lift my body out of my cocoon, pull on a sweatshirt and answer the door. There is no sense of personal space here, so if I didn't answer the door, she would come right in and think nothing of it.

I forgot everything that I wanted to eat today, until I took a deep breath and recalled how to ask for the food I wanted her to make. In Hindi I first communicate that I do not need dinner. I then said, using the sentence structures I’ve been practicing in Hindi class, please make cabbage and potatoes with rice.

I thought that I did a great job explaining what I wanted, but clearly something was wrong because Sushma DiDi told me to follow her while she knocked on Akanksha and Ananya’s door. She explained to them that the food I asked for was too dry and would I like a dal with it. I said that it was okay. Little does she know that at home the food we eat is extremely dry, rarely do we mix in a soup with any of it and that it’s totally okay for it to be that way––at least in my opinion. So I sad no thank you and retreated to my room. While I pulled on a pair of pants (out of my sweatpants), I realized that I might have offended her, and went back to the kitchen and kindly asked in Hindi for Sushma Di to please make me some dal along with the cabbage, rice, potatoes. When she understood she smiled.

I then had to remedy the egg situation. So I grabbed 150 rupees because I know that eggs are 145. I pulled on a sweatshirt despite in being 78 degrees, but this is the coldest that it’s been since I have been here and I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to wear a sweatshirt. I ran down the stairs keys, phone, and cash in hand––everything happens in cash here. You can pay with google pay, but I see most people, especially older people relying only on cash.

I ran down the street and saw parents with their children walking to school. I think school must begin at 8 here because this was around 7:45.

I rounded the corner and made it to the stand where I buy my eggs. I think that it’s funny that I can walk down my block to buy eggs at a store that in American we would call “a hole in the wall.” I’ve learned that I need to be assertive here, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me. I have to insert my body next to the line of men that crowd the counter and unlike at home, I have to blurt out what I want or else other people will do so first and get the items they need before me. There’s no such thing as queuing here. Stores feel chaotic to me, because even the notion of waiting in a queue can’t be easy. I got my eggs and my 5 rupees in change, and walked home. As I rounded the corner, I saw the man with the fruit cart, yelling to the colony as he does everyday. Before today, I didn’t realize that it was him yelling. He yells to tell everyone that he is here with fruit to sell. After I passed him, I continued home.

I promptly dropped the eggs on the counter and Sushma Di smiled. She then asked me if I like the rain. I know how to talk about the weather in Hindi now, so I did. I said that I thought that the rain was good, and that it was nice that it was cold today––cold for Delhi standards to be more specific. Then I moved over to the stove to peer into the pots of everything she was making. She asked me if I liked to cook, and I responded that I do, a little. Then we both smiled, proud, I think that we actually had a conversation where we both understood, on our own.

I could talk about the large scale accomplishments that I have found over the first month, but the reality is, I have found my greatest successes in the mundane. The moments that I didn’t expect, like an impromptu conversation in Hindi, or genuine care from a stranger have brought be the greatest sense of belonging and subsequently, happiness. Over the past month, I have been discouraged by my lack of large scale accomplishments, but I am constantly reminded of my small victories.