On the front page of yesterday's online New York Times, two articles caught my attention. The first, violence in the Middle East. I don't remember what precisely. The second, my favorite cupcake shop Crumbs closing all its stores. I skipped the first and was emotionally distraught at the second, and I immediately texted my dad in America to buy some endangered desserts while he still could. (They were gone already.) But of course that's the kind of irrational, self-centered behavior that turns blind eyes to endless violence and poverty. So what can you do to to make issues feel closer to home? Make your home closer to issues, I guess. And I did.
A few days ago a small, low-intensity bomb went off in the parking lot of a police station just a short fifteen minute walk away from my house. Thankfully only a few people got hurt, and don't worry, our safety isn't in jeopardy or anything like that. But my point is that with proximity to catastrophe comes a sense of realism and awareness, the foreign becoming the domestic. More pervasive than catastrophes are the less drastic things--frequent power cuts, a late monsoon causing drought. We all have a bit of the "doesn't affect me" attitude until it does.
I know I won't be the first or last to say that traveling has been an eye-opening experience, and I'm cautious of heaping cliches about how India has changed my life. So I'll avoid platitudes and end with a piece of advice--even if you don't enjoy the food, even if you're terrified of insects, even if (especially if) you don't want to see crushing poverty, go to India. Or Africa, or practically anywhere else. You'll choke on chilies and squirm at the bugs and be begged at by the homeless, but you'll become a more worldly and understanding person.
Only three more weeks--how is that even possible?
