I'm at my desk in our office with a mug of tea, my second one today. It's a fantastic black tea, full and rich and sweet. I love it. My laptop defines me lately, as everything I do and almost everything I think is somewhere in the directory of this machine. Since the famed Mumbai Xpress is coming up in just a little over a month, Aaron and I hit the ground running and have been working since our arrival date. Our jobs have been made clear... well, the goals have. I am sentenced to write (no pun intended) endless amounts of content, from Wikipedia entries to press releases, website content to personal letters. Aaron has assumed the role of "Country Head" and is adjusting well to his responsibilities. Both of us are gradually adapting to the humidity, high temperatures, new faces, and new routines. Because our apartment is located just above the office, we don't leave this building as often as we'd like to. There is a sort of spiritual frontier out there that we will soon explore, but like all things, there will be a time for it.
It rained last night. The monsoon is approaching and the rain in India is a different kind of rain. It doesn't come from the sky, oddly enough. Instead, the air just turns to water instantaneously and then falls, as if to make gravity visible and remind us all it's still there. There is something exotic and mystical about the approaching monsoon, like a full moon or a rainbow. It stirs a sense that is otherwise absent and it cannot be defined. I suppose, if I had to try, it's the earth refreshing itself, nature doing her work, the uncontrollable laws of existence in practice. For these next months, this species so consumed with control and power will yield it to the rains; something so fundamental and almost invisible demands our surrender. I think most people try too hard in their lifetimes. To do what doesn't matter. They just simply try too hard. Surrender. That's an important lesson to learn.
I have a few pictures and a lot of videos, including one of an autorickshaw ride to lunch! Those will be posted this evening. As I remember home and all of you reading this, I imagine you here and imagine a day when you'll visit and I'll be accustomed enough to watch your awe and amazement rather than simply experience my own. I especially look forward to my parents' visit. I imagine my father, who has more concerns about me being in India than anyone we spoke to, being the one most captivated by India. My mother, with a good idea of what to expect and a sense of patience I've never known, will have a profound appreciation for everything she sees. And Khris, no elephants yet, but then again, no cows in the middle of the road either, so standby! Once you experience India, you will never look at the world the same again.
Time to upload the media. I love you and I miss you.
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