Time

Time passes so differently here, at least for me. There is so much more of it. It's infinite. It just keeps going on and on. Before moving here, time seemed so quantitative. I was constantly treating it to be this physical substance which could be scrimped or saved. I had to do things in a certain order and according to a certain routine to save time. There were only so many slots available in my phone calendar to fill: wake up at this time, call grandma at this time, go to work during these hours, take the bus during this slot to go to the store in this slot in order to be home by this time before the buses stop, which leaves only this many minutes to do homework because I need to sleep for this many hours.

I mean, yeah, I have things to do here. There's always tea time at around 7, breakfast around 8. I go to the office at about 9. Tea again at 11. Lunch in early afternoon, tea in late afternoon*, home for a while, dinner, and sleep whenever. But, I'm not rushing. I can be late. What's more is that though I listed some of these things by time, I don't know if that's how people here arrange it to be. I think that's just the usual moment when they are ready for whatever meal or whatever comes next. I don't know. Maybe I'm completely wrong.

But suddenly I "have" (another western way of thinking about time- we own it) all the time in the world. I have time to think, and not about anything in particular. I can let my mind wander as I sit on the terrace on my roof. I think about tamil words, the sunset. I watch workers build a new turquoise house with gold trim, the old people next door watching tv, and oh my hell how can that guy balance that much stuff on his scooter. I find myself frequently watching animals and wildlife here. The cows wander in herds with a couple newborns tagging along. Four or five stray dogs always hang out on our porch because we give them food. The Indian equivalent of a chipmunk and lizards always get into entertaining fights. I have a couple of friendly geckos in my place too. They make this charming chirping noise a lot - I feel like it is a good sign of auspiciousness.

Overall, I guess what I'm saying is that it feels so good not to have deadlines. Not to schedule every minute of my day (as hard as I would try not to). I can write in my journal or work on my script. I'm reading Les Mis and this book about religion in India called Nine Lives. I go to the main part of town when I feel up to it. I hang out and watch movies with my host parents**.

It's a wonderful feeling to not be so constantly limited, to be mindful, but to be so free.


*I know, I am constantly drinking tea. BUT, it's tradition, AND it's delicious. Adding milk in tea makes it so great. Plus, people get concerned if I don't drink tea (or if I don't eat thrice as much as fits in my stomach), so it's easier just to drink it.

**Ah, my big brother, how I wish you were here to see these movies. With our jokes I don't think we'd stop laughing. And I've given up on laughing aloud-- that's just the way movies are made here. When I do laugh my host parents look at me wondering what is so funny.