I spent a semester abroad in northern India in fall 2012 and still crave the taste of Indian milk tea. But in the one year since I left India and grapple with trying to preserve four months of transformative memories, I can’t seem to recall what a “perfect†cup of Indian tea tastes like to me. My greatest wish right now would be to leave behind my responsibilities, board a plane to India, and stuff myself full with Indian foods. Parathas, pani puris, barfis, masala dosas and veg momos all haunt my food dreams on a daily basis.
As a part of my studies with SIT, I am required to design and carry out a month long research project that pertains to sustainable development and social change in India. For my project, I plan to research women’s malnutrition in India, specifically researching factors that affect women’s nutritional status in India.
Even though I've attended Whitman for a little over two years now, I still seriously question the practicality of a liberal arts education within today's world. I often have moments of terror as to where my politics/sociology degree will take me after I'm beyond the walls of "Whitman's bubble".
Have you ever had a dream where you’re running but not running fast enough?
The other day I was standing in a bazaar in Jaipur Old City when a man bumped into my backpack and took off running.
Hindi textbooks? Yes. Malaria meds? Yes. Gifts for host family? Yes. Cell phone charger? Sh*t. Where did I put it? I don't notice how tightly my back and shoulders have tensed until I finish zipping...
It’s time. I’m going to India! I can hardly believe it. I feel as though I've spent the past year hopping from place to place—from Walla Walla, Seattle and Los Angeles. But now that I'm finally comfortably settled in at my parents' home in Salt Lake City, the thought of leaving the known for another trip to an unknown environment makes me extremely nervous.
