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Blogging as My Reward
It's bed-time, but I find this forum irresistible, and besides, I want to reward myself for facing most of my second bout of expense reporting tonight. It's not trivial to itemize 10 days of hotel room rates and room taxes. If you're bored, reading this, then you can imagine how I dreaded submitting the work.
This weekend's "The New Sunday Express" had three articles on powerful women: the first female President of India; Hillary Clinton compared to Rudolph Giuliani; and the 568 women who are on Boards of Directors in India.
While hunting for the paper on Google, I came across a vivid article on London's recent, 35th annual Pride Parade.
Finding Kindred Spirits
On Sunday, when Pat and I visited our best friend in India and her family, she asked me, "Have you seen your friends yet from last time?" She was referring to the couple I met thanks to my friend Deepak's introduction.
"We need to call them, but just haven't yet." Other than our friend who has been here on assignment for some time, we have not interacted, knowingly, with any G, L, B or T people since arriving in India. In fact, we've hardly interacted with anyone socially, as I'm trying to find the right work-rhythm and so far, it's mostly a continual-continuous drum-beat.
Tonight, one of my U.S. management said, "Don't keep working on the weekends." But my colleagues here do...and who am I to take it easier? I really do feel that I need to build endurance and stamina to work as hard as my colleagues here do. And I thought I was among the harder workers I knew in the States. Here, by my U.S. standards, I'm lazy. It's a difficult sensation, a nagging feeling.
Today, I spoke with the executive sponsor of IBM India's GLBT constituency and that was heartening. And as a bonus, I asked to learn a bit about Sikhism, and learned that Sikhs are monotheistic and looking to "live an honorable life." I looked at my colleague's forest-green turban and thought of a yarmulke/kippah -- what Orthodox Jewish men wear.
Memory is Healthier Than Nostalgia
Our rabbi, Rabbi Kleinbaum, has spoken of how memory is useful while pure nostalgia is not as healthy, since it keeps us yearning for the era about which we're feeling sentimental.
Last night, I think I heard the Muslim call to prayer; there's a mosque across the street from IBM. Unlike the Hindu chanting that Saturday night a couple of weeks ago, I felt warmed by the singing from the mosque. It reminded me of my year in Jerusalem at 20. And I thought, at least someone's having some spiritual sustenance.
As my mom said, maybe we'll find other Jews when we move to our house in August.
I think I underestimated how much I'd miss our Jewish community -- almost as much as my electric tooth-brush, which I must now admit, I forgot in New Jersey.
Almost, I finished the previous sentence with, "...at home." I liked Dorothy's comment, though, that home is where Pat is, which is mostly true, and probably a healthier way for me to get acclimated more quickly. I do miss the rest of my family, though, and also my good nail-file. We've got a pocket-kit-sized one we're using till we break down and spend time, shopping.
2 comments:
... or as a friend of mine said, 'home is where the luggage is'.
it must be so interesting meeting people from different religions all the time. god knows how many they have them! ;)
Yes, so far, from every religion, but mine, it seems. Being in India shows me that Judaism is a pretty rare religion. I know that there are only 2% in the United States, but I live in the area where most of the 2% live, and so I've got an illusion of our numbers.
During our first weekend here, we asked the concierge if she could find us a synagogue, or at least a group of Jewish expatriates who worship together.
Days later, she told us, "Ma'am, there is no synagogue, but there is a Methodist church."
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