The morning is good – part ll

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Every morning, I wake up and feel…normal. Throughout the day, I’m pretty much as far from normal as you can get with crazy clothes and phrases like “I’m going to burn this place to the ground” if, say, there aren’t any bananas left at breakfast. But preceding this chaos, I wake up calm. Normal. I don’t wake up thinking “WOAH, I’M IN INDIA THIS IS SO INSANE!!”, although I sometimes think that during the course of the day. I don’t wake up to the mooing and hacking and sneezing and barking and think “OH INDIA, you cluster of chaos!”. I wake up, I wiggle my toes and stretch my arms over my little hippie head and think “Mmmmm, the morning is good.” I listen for the clattering hoofbeats of the four donkeys that bring supplies to the village and know that, without fail, it’s 5:45; I’d better get out of the bed. And much like some people get up and put on a suit, with the same sense of routine and comfort, I move about my room gathering bits of hippie clothing and dressing along the way: yoga pants here, scarf there. I move through my routine and feel a great calm and comfort, a sense of integration rather than idolization of my surroundings. I grab my carpet bag and mat and rush out the door, like so many others do with their morning coffee.
This sense of peace and comfort grows every moment. I find myself making plans with friends here and saying “I’m at home now; I’ll meet you for lunch”. I’m at home now. I’ve lived in many types of living situations in my time, everything from living out of a suitcase at my boyfriends house to having my own studio apartment. They all felt temporary. And now, in a foreign country, I’ve never felt more at home.

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