The Fourth Chapter of an Extraordinary Journey: Five Things I Just Might’ve Taken for Granted before India
When I took the virtual Pottermore Test that sorts web-users into one of the four Houses in the famed Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I instinctively selected intelligence, out of several nonsensical options, as the one trait I would like to be remembered for.
I mean, no one in their right mind wants to be remembered as “that dunce,” right?
So please, brace yourselves (all the while bearing in mind that I’m truly going out on a limb here) when I very hesitantly utter the following:
Initially, I was dubious about whether clean running water, air conditioning, or soft linen bedding — things I used to think of as small, definite comforts at the time — would be offered the S M Sehgal Foundation. For this reason, I prepared myself for the worst, anxiously anticipating eight weeks of possibly earthly torture — a philosophical and transcendent journey, as much as a true test of the human soul which would surely shape me into a kinder individual and wiser hunger fighter.
Yes, I’m quite the drama queen, I know.
Needless to say anyhow, I was completely baffled out of my wits when the Sehgal Foundation van dropped me and Olivia off at a gate, beyond which I could just barely make out pretty pink flowers and other lush greenery lining the smooth-paved sides of a gently moonlit pathway in the darkness of my first Indian night.
As it turned out, my suitcase, which overflowed with copious amounts of toilet paper rolls, hand sanitizers, air pollution masks, and portable fans, would virtually remain untouched, its contents all in pristine order, until the first day I ventured out onto the field.
And the stock of toiletries would continue to be minimally-used in such fashion — that is, until things took an unexpected turn for me last week.
- Thing-taken-for-granted #1: Toilet paper.
In my previous post (please do check it out if you haven’t already! #lowkeyself-advertising), I elaborated on my newfound appreciation for the mesmerizing world of body language.
At this time, I will take the time to elaborate on my newfound appreciation for the also (but not as nearly)-mesmerizing world of Costco’s ever-so-velvety toilet paper rolls.
Since coming here, there was a need for me to be somewhat conservative (or so I thought), especially in terms of toilet paper consumption, as the housekeeper would leave out two or three toilet paper rolls for me and Olivia to share per week. Well, little did I know until a long while later that there just happens to be a cabinet on the first floor of the guestroom which wields the magical golden key to all the toilet paper I’d desired.
Now, though I realize that this may not be the most decorous or — as the interns here would say — “posh” (a British word I chuckle at for some reason whenever I hear them use it) topic to talk about, I must say that my first few weeks of “being conservative” (out of my own blind ignorance) was not a piece of cake, despite the fact that my food intake (which chiefly consists of Korean cuisine sprinkled here and there with good-ol’ In-N-Out burgers and freshly-made Pineapple-Mango smoothies from McCafe) has gone down from when I was last snacking away in the star-spangled States of America.
Luckily however, there was never a time when our excretory needs demanded more toilet paper than the supply at hand, sans last week (which was thankfully the week when Olivia and I made the grand discovery of the “Cabinet Downstairs.”)
Alright, I think I’ll stop romanticizing about toilet papers now.
Thing-taken-for-granted #2: Air conditioning.
I’m sure air conditioning is a conventional luxury a whole lot more people can relate to and appreciate without feeling nearly as disgusting or grossed out when discussing, in comparison to toilet paper.
Likewise, there was many a time when the “previous me” suffered from zero to minimal air conditioning in extreme climates, like that one time when the air conditioning system in my family’s SUV broke down in the red-hot valleys of Nevada (Death Valley, anyone?).
But still, that was nothing like the suffocating heat I had to endure when my dorm’s air conditioning chose the worst day — considering that it’s currently monsoon season in India, and was a field day when I returned late from interviewing in Khalipur Village — to go on vacation.
For three consecutive days, I did all that I could humanly do (taking a cold shower, wearing cotton pajamas, and drinking about three times the amount of water I usually do) to battle the heat, yet each attempt was mocked by fruitlessness.
Dear reader, you have to understand that when you are stuck in a swampy room with zero air conditioning, your body not only becomes the victim of physical but also mental exhaustion.
You become trapped in a web of indolence and your body simply refuses to budge on its own accord. In other words, you are well on your way to developing tendencies of a lazy couch potato that, from my own personal experience, may or may not linger even after the air conditioning problem has been looked at and mended to.
Feeling helpless, much like a poor victim to the Dementor’s Kiss (in my case, annoying heat waves), during my zombie-like phase due to no air conditioning, I funnily enough never turned to alternative options for AC repair: perhaps another symptom of the little-researched No Air Conditioning Condition.
But then, at perhaps the most spontaneous hour of the day (3 A.M., to be precise), the idea that the “malfunctioning of the air conditioner” may be caused by a pesky remote controller on low battery struck me out of nowhere. So after deliberately having lowered my expectations (a highly-recommended technique), I groggily strode on over to an unoccupied dorm room next to mine, and really only “borrowed” the controller from that room.
Like magic, fresh air started rolling out of the of the air conditioner in icy, undulating waves, and I was absolutely euphoric.
It was day filled with juxtapositions — bliss and depression — when my unremarkable problem-solving skills were tested and when my fears of not being able to survive for even two days in the forest alone, were confirmed in the most watered-down way possible.
Thing-taken-for-granted #3: Privacy.
I think I have mentioned or at least hinted somewhere in my second blog post that I am, if anything else, a great example what mild introversion looks like in blood and flesh.
This entails I am neither the hugest fan of mass-populated places nor social outings at San Diego’s hottest new entertainment attraction. In fact, I’d much rather prefer the company of good food and family, occasionally a few intimate friends, in civilized fashion.
Therefore, coming to S M Sehgal Foundation, with its incredibly well-kept facilities, amazing breakfast varieties (with the yummy poached eggs, banana shakes, and toast in particular!), and ever-accommodating staff, has opened up a few minor discomforts to me — discomforts that pale in comparison by far to the organization’s numerous advantages.
Although it may be a factor not completely controllable on Sehgal’s end, I find myself exposed to male workers, whether that be when — in obnoxious polka-dotted pants — I am making instant ramen in the guestroom’s kitchen, or dining at the cafeteria, at a magnitude that teeters just a tiny bit outside of my comfort zone, but enough to make me feel cautious.
As a person who likes to establish certain boundaries between personal and professional, I have found it slightly challenging to carry on with my everyday activities or tendencies because of the relatively limited privacy I have here, when compared to the carefree mobility I relished back in San Diego.
On the contrary however, the comparatively little privacy I now have than before has been a very important growth factor in itself for me; by demarcating that strict divide between my personal and professional life, it has slowly but surely helped me to loosen up and not be so high-strung around unfamiliar company all the time.
Thing-taken-for-granted #4: Food.
One of the questions the Borlaug-Ruan interns were asked in their qualifying Skype interviews for this internship is, “Are you open to trying new international foods?”
I mean, technically haan हाँ (yes in Hindi, a lovely language I would love to learn more about!).
Broadly speaking, I have sampled a multitude of different foods from all over the world; being a Korean-American myself who lives in San Diego — a city literally 40 minutes away from Mexico — I’ve definitely had my fill of East-Asian and Mexican foods, and to put the cherry on top, I’ve occasionally tasted other scrumptious ethnic foods from Latin America and the Middle East as well.
And so, not really weighing in the possibility that I would get assigned to an unforeseen yet nonetheless fabulous nonprofit organization such as the Sehgal Foundation in Gurgaon, India, I gave a dismissive laugh and confidently responded, “Of course. I have a strong stomach.”
Indian cuisine is simply amazing, please don’t get me wrong, but too much unfamiliar, foreign food (not specific to India) can become a tad overwhelming at times, especially when 90 percent of the food I’ve grown up consuming in my household is characterized by muted flavors, even in comparison to standard home-cooked dishes from other Korean families. Therefore, some of the exotic, peppery spices, boasting a loud range from coriander to fenugreek, did not fare too well with my pathetically elementary taste buds.
Even the popular Nimbu Pani (Indian lemonade), which is most cool and refreshing on car rides back from village visits, Shipra often buys me is infused with a sharp tang of curry, not to mention mixed with lime pulp and cumin powder!
Although my taste buds have definitely gotten better at adjusting to the quality Indian foods served in Sehgal’s cafeteria (with interesting varieties of curry and rice being served every lunch here), there are days like yesterday when lunch is constituted of a good ol’ Quaker’s chocolate-chip granola bar, potato chips, and Welch’s fruit snacks.
On weekends, I have the time to be a foreign tourist in India, besides being a proud Borlaug-Ruan and Sehgal Foundation intern. Which means I get to indulge in the cornucopia of delicacies (greasy, fried chicken, a thick slice of pizza, Korean rice cakes, etc.) I’ve pined for all week long with my fellow interns!
While I’m still on the subject, I am increasingly reminded of something I’ve sort of taken for granted here at Sehgal: the compassionate, intelligent, and hilarious interns, all of whom have grown to become good friends of mine by now, I’ve had the pleasure of working with — more on them in my blogs that are soon to come!
Slowly, slowly, as summer — hot winds and all — gradually winds down to a close, more than half of the interns who were originally here at the start of my Extraordinary Journey in India, have taken their final steps out of Sehgal’s doors and into the doors of their bigger and brighter futures.
For their endless contributions to building a better world and dedication to their work, I am incredibly proud of them, and can only hope to leave behind an imprint as large and meaningful as the ones my alumni have left behind, when I also exit Sehgal’s doors for the last time.
Thing-taken-for-granted #5: My Loving Family.
Up until now, the past four things-taken-for-granted — with the exception of privacy — I’ve identified are all clearly tangible objects, things that are expendable and in theory, only temporarily replenishing.
But “family” is one of those rare, present-like words in the universe for which there is no fitting synonym: clan, group, kin — none of these are quite able to mimic the same warm undertones the three-syllable word “family” has.
Without even realizing it, you begin to miss the sound of the fond footsteps and voices you’ve grown up hearing since childhood, baby steps.
You miss your Shih-Tzu that makes the strangest, staccato-ed grunts when she snores.
You miss the nonstop household/school-related reminders your mom would sneak at you whenever she catches you in a good mood.
You miss the ridiculously immature banters (the majority of which were of or relating to food) you’d sometimes have with your younger sister.
You even start to miss the unnecessarily long and sporadic life lectures your dad would make in the middle of a car ride to Vons: Ingredients for Life!
During my life-changing stay here at India, I’ve definitely had my share of inconveniences: I’ve struggled with food, I’ve suffered from humidity, from mosquitoes that are secretly puny bloodthirsty vampires with wings, and from loneliness, but in truth only through those hardships was I really able to mature as an individual, especially as a world citizen and hunger fighter, and unearth more about my 17-year-old self as I found colorful new ways to overcome each hurdle.
Thus taking everything I’ve said (and so much more) into consideration, if it were not for the esteemed World Food Prize or the S M Sehgal Foundation, I personally believe I would not have had the opportunity to apply such a varied palette of my skills, whether that be of artistic nature like designing or journalistic nature like interviewing, in the fascinating new directions I was able to explore through this one-in-a-lifetime internship, which I have so much to be thankful for and celebrate about.
… And so I happily conclude this semi-pensive yet genuine blog with an inspirational quote by a brilliant Indian-American physicist and philosopher named Debasish Mridha, a truly remarkable man who has been trapped in an Indian refugee camp for years during Bangledesh’s war for Independence,:
“We may not be able to cross a river by walking, but if your desire to cross the river is strong enough you can learn to swim.” -Debasish Mridha
