I’ve been back here now since July and I finally sat down and admitted today that I miss India. It has been said that India is the kind of place that you either learn to love or you just plain hate it. There can be no mediocre feelings about the place. Having experienced it myself, I’d have to say that I agree. I don’t think that even the culture or people themselves could be remotely considered mediocre, so how could the experience be so?
So maybe there are some positives to letting my husband pursue his dreams of trying out for Special Forces. I originally had fought the notion tooth and nail. Who wants to go through all that separation? But now I am slowly coming to terms with life as it is-especially after just having turned 36. Happiness for him is doing all that hard core Rambo-running-through-the-woods-stuff. Yes, I am not included in this fantasy, but I will be part of making his dream come true-and it’s the journey that counts in the end.
And while he is running through the woods, I’ll be getting back to India where life seems so much more colorful. Of course, there are the hassles of being a foreigner; being the only white chick for miles around. It unnerved me while I was there, but after having had a break, I’m ready to go back. My threads have been forever woven in the fabric of India, as strange and inexplicable as it may seem!