Kolkata is a city of more than 14 million people. That is 14 million people that need to move about the city. There are lots of buses, cars, trucks, auto rickshaws creating pollution galore. Growing up in LA, I thought I would be somewhat used to thick air that coats the lungs and black boogers at all times. I have had a cold every month despite eating oranges and taking vitamin C. The constant haze creates some beautiful sunsets but also limits the suns ability to truly shine.
In many ways, I have been in a fog mentally as I moved through this city. I was feeling depressed and would often have anxiety attacks when I would leave the safety of my flat. Kolkata demands a fight even to venture to the local market. Over Christmas, we had a few days off and I did not leave the apartment because I did not have the fight to engage even a walk to the market. Sari Bari was a safe haven among the craziness and I love being there but sometimes the walk is more like a journey through seas of people staring and grabbing which means I'm already tired at the beginning of the work day. The walk home from the office is often a big game of frogger avoiding trucks, cars and the men going into the red light area. I am always on high alert making sure I know who/what is around me. My flat is a save haven amidst the chaos and I am grateful for the peacefulness of quiet nights to decompress from the stress of a day in Kolkata. Most nights, I am too tired to cook dinner so it is a spoon full of peanut butter or a Twix bar. It is in these moments I have to remember I am not in this alone.
For weeks I felt like I was alone and going through the valley of living in a foreign culture. I did not want to add stress to someone else's plate so I shoved my feelings down deeper so I could get through the days and weeks. When I finally shared my struggle with my community, they surrounded me with open arms and assured me I am not alone. I voiced my inner struggle to find rest and peace in this city. I voiced the pain of being grabbed by men. I voiced the feelings of falling into a never ending abyss. As soon as I allowed other people to help me shoulder the burden, I felt lighter and found more joy in the little things. I often forget that I was sent out and there is a group of people constantly praying for me as I navigate the road God has put before me. I know my time here is a journey and I appreciate all the gifts, prayers, words of encouragement, notes, Christmas cards, texts and messages that help me take on each day. I look forward to the next 3 months as the mental fog continues to clear.
In many ways, I have been in a fog mentally as I moved through this city. I was feeling depressed and would often have anxiety attacks when I would leave the safety of my flat. Kolkata demands a fight even to venture to the local market. Over Christmas, we had a few days off and I did not leave the apartment because I did not have the fight to engage even a walk to the market. Sari Bari was a safe haven among the craziness and I love being there but sometimes the walk is more like a journey through seas of people staring and grabbing which means I'm already tired at the beginning of the work day. The walk home from the office is often a big game of frogger avoiding trucks, cars and the men going into the red light area. I am always on high alert making sure I know who/what is around me. My flat is a save haven amidst the chaos and I am grateful for the peacefulness of quiet nights to decompress from the stress of a day in Kolkata. Most nights, I am too tired to cook dinner so it is a spoon full of peanut butter or a Twix bar. It is in these moments I have to remember I am not in this alone.
For weeks I felt like I was alone and going through the valley of living in a foreign culture. I did not want to add stress to someone else's plate so I shoved my feelings down deeper so I could get through the days and weeks. When I finally shared my struggle with my community, they surrounded me with open arms and assured me I am not alone. I voiced my inner struggle to find rest and peace in this city. I voiced the pain of being grabbed by men. I voiced the feelings of falling into a never ending abyss. As soon as I allowed other people to help me shoulder the burden, I felt lighter and found more joy in the little things. I often forget that I was sent out and there is a group of people constantly praying for me as I navigate the road God has put before me. I know my time here is a journey and I appreciate all the gifts, prayers, words of encouragement, notes, Christmas cards, texts and messages that help me take on each day. I look forward to the next 3 months as the mental fog continues to clear.
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