Things I miss about India

On the one hand, we haven’t been away long enough to miss some things yet and we are in the throes of reentering our home country and reuniting with friends and family, so I'm sure there will be more posts like this to come.  

I find what I miss primarily is people: the people who cared for our family—

Raju, who drove us everywhere we needed to be.  As we weren’t allowed to drive, he was literally with us every single time we needed to go anywhere.  To work.  To the store.  To school. To church. On roadtrips. To the hospital when in labor.  Out to dinner.  Home from dinner.  To the doctor with sick child.  To the airport… a million times.

Rani, who helped with the cleaning (a houseful of marble floors needing to be swept and mopped every day to keep away remarkable amounts of quickly accumulating dirt and grime), and who cared for Sarah in the evenings while I put Hannah and Matthew to bed.

Kalpana, who taught me everything I know about Indian cooking, who soaked our fruits and veggies in grapefruit seed extract so we wouldn’t get sick, who boiled milk, boiled beans and chopped and chopped and chopped. And helped us to entertain friends, colleagues and visitors over 50 times.

Bhavani, who helped care for Sarah earlier in the day so I could exercise and catch up on desperately needed sleep (Sarah’s reflux resulted in multiple night wakings for months and months).

Friends from our expat community who went through the ups and downs of living in India with us.  Friends who were our family when we were so far from our own.  Friends with whom we celebrated birthdays, births, and holidays from our home countries.

The diverse and fascinating group of ladies that I met with to pray for our kids on Mondays.