coming back…

            It’s taken me three days to get Indian food. It wasn’t my choice actually, I met with Aaron and he was very excited about trying out a place in the East Village called MasalaWala. I was intrigued by the name and by the fact that he told me they had pani puri. It looked fancy from the outside but the prices for everything were totally reasonable (in US price terms). I think of converting the prices, but there’s no way you could get a dish of anything here for less than a dollar and there’s no way anyone in India would pay more than a hundred rupees for a pani puri; we’ll not compare and contrast in that way.

I took pictures of everything, sent it to my friends (via my new phone with internet connection) and gave each a rating. The bhel puri was decent, pani puri had stale puri and the pani was weak, the samosa chaat was yum but wasn’t really samosa chaat, the roll was spiceless, the chai was good. I gave it an overall rating of C+. I’m a harsh critic.  The waiter was from Bangladesh. He was nice but not interested in the fact that I just got back from India.

Returning is rough to say the least. I can easily slip back into the city. You can just be lost in its activity. It was great to spend the day with my mom. She took the day off of work on Tuesday and we roamed here and there in their new neighborhood. It’s weird, because to me it’s still a new neighborhood. They’ve been living here almost two years.

Slowly I’m starting to call people, let them know I’m around. At least there’s no need to stuff everyone into one week or two even and see everyone in a rush. I can take my time. During the day I’m job applying, writing, and trying to figure out next steps. Each day I plan to check out a different café to see where I might be able to call “home base” where I’ll spend the afternoons post lunch. I can’t get over that a tea (water and a bag of leaves) costs Rs100. It’s going to be a new kind of struggle to get acclimated to being here again. I’ve been telling everyone it might take around six months. For my India friends, it feels like everyone here is from Bangalore walking on MG road. Everyone is dressed up…always, or so it seems.

I’m trying to get to capoeira class and find a salsa class where I can retrain myself. In India we dance on1 (LA style), everyone in New York dances on2. It might seem like a small difference, but it’s enough to throw you off significantly. We’ll see what happens. I already went to a social to try to just be around people without having to be with people but I was very disappointed with the results. I have to get used to old men blatantly hitting on younger women and a different dance crowd. It’ll take time. The venue will not see me anymore though. There are some good socials I’ve been to in the past, so I’ll see if I can find one of them again.

Tonight I’ll go for my first capoeira class. I’m excited to train and to share what I learn with my group back home. Tomorrow I’ll go get my butt kicked at another class.

Now, writing and seeing what to do about that. 

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