My Holy Ground – A Trip to the Motherland

They say distance makes the heart grow fonder, but it has my heart split across the globe. Not in the way that it is broken, just in the way that some of it is here in Namibia, some at home in the States, and some in the motherland of India. All are beating, but none are whole. I feel far and I am far.

I’ve just returned to Namibia after a 9-day trip to India. Whenever I visit India, there is a part of my soul that stays there, a part of my being that will only ever feel whole there. There is something in that Delhi air that will always give me a sense of comfort and home. Each time I return to India, I don’t know where the time goes but, half a decade seems to pass. My last visit to India was in 2019 and the time before that was in 2013. Even with all those years in between, the gulleys look the same, the aromas of rose and masala and Delhi pollution mixed bring flashbacks of my childhood in Patel Nagar, the extended family welcomes you into their homes with all the love in the world, and the first hugs with my cousins, aunts, and grandparents, that I have reunited with after years, always feel full.

The digital world does wonders to make the globe smaller. Although I hadn’t held my family in 5 years, it didn’t seem to change a thing about our bonds and love. My baby brother in India, Kunal, not such a baby anymore, grew up continents away from me, yet during our reunion, felt like my twin in more ways than one. As I looked through old photo albums at my Dada’s (paternal grandfather) house, it felt surreal seeing pictures of my Bua (Dad’s sister) when she was young and recognizing myself in her in so many angles. As I smiled, laughed, and cried throughout my time in Delhi, my Dada kept referring to me as chote Ritu (little Ritu), and I could tell it made his heart full to see his daughter in me.

There will always be a part of me that wishes all my family lived in one single cul-de-sac and could gather every Sunday night for dinner. But I will choose to focus on the reality and be grateful for the fact that even oceans apart, relationships stay strong. As I prepare to leave Namibia in 5 months, as my Peace Corps service will come to an end, I take solace in that fact that I have maintained my ties with my family in India for my whole life, so I trust that I will follow suit with my family I have formed out here in Namibia.

Exploring the streets of Old and New Delhi, a lot felt familiar, but a lot also changed since my return 5 years back. The streets of Delhi felt cleaner, the poverty is noticeably less, the economy has become nearly cashless, the development is hard to deny and made me proud to see. This time I spent half my time in Delhi and the other half exploring a new part of India, Kerala. As I continue to visit India, I want to make more of an effort of exploring the beautiful subcontinent. Delhi will always be the home base, but India is vast and beautiful and has different sights, culture, food, and languages in all its corners that I can’t wait to uncover more of.

As I walked the gully from my dad’s house to my mom’s childhood house, I tried to picture the life they once lived there. I realized; I’ll never know their India. I know the India where the street food is a treat, rickshaw rides are exotic and fun, the walk through Chandni Chowk is exhilarating, and as a distant relative visiting after years, everyone makes you feel like royalty when you come. It is not the India my mom and dad left behind to start their lives in the States. During this last trip, I came to the realization that even though I’ll never know their India and the sacrifice that is paired with their story there, it is what has shaped the motivations and values of me and my brother.

My mind flashes back to the night I told my mom I had applied to join the Peace Corps in Africa. She shuddered in shock and pain – the idea that I’d want to succumb myself to the lifestyles of a developing nation when all their sacrifice and hard work was to protect me from ever having to experience the hardships associated with the world she grew up in.

For my mom, India is the home she left when she was just 19 years old, to marry my father in the States, who was at that time a stranger to her. In the traditional arranged marriages, love comes second. Sacrifice for a better future life for your family comes first. She’s now lived most of her life in the States, and for her, that is home. For my dad, a lot of his family is still in India. His dad, his little sister, his favorite nephews, his cousins – they are all scattered around India. Dad visits annually and although he barely grew up in India, it is home for him.

Naturally, when I told both my parents about my decision to join the Peace Corps, and live abroad, I was met with two very different reactions. My dad was easy, chill, accepting, as he usually is. He is a parent that has always given autonomy, leading by the example that it takes independence to learn, grow, and simply figure life out. My mom was fearful of her baby girl leaving and being so far away from the comforts and amenities of the life they blessed me with in the States.

As I reflect on my parent’s immigrant story, and experience the culture I am made up of, it all makes sense to me now. I come from parents who built their story and their life on the foundation of thinking beyond themselves. That is the immigrant story after all. It is also the collectivist nature of much of my family in India and much of my community in Namibia. I think I have always been attracted to that mindset in life. My partner Ady and I talk about this when we discuss our future together. Whenever there is a decision to be made, he tells me “Think bigger than us, Kaj.” For our parents and for Ady too, “bigger than us” means consider the family – the current family and the future family we will one day have. For me and for my brother, I think it means one thing greater. It means consider the communities we stay in, the Earth we live on. It means leaving our mark on the world and leaving something good behind.

That night in January when I told my parents about Peace Corps, I know it confused my mom and I left her questioning how her life choices had led me to make the decision I did. I hope it makes sense now. I was never trying to ignore my parent’s sacrifice and their hard work, rather I was trying to make something bigger out of it. It’s a privilege that my parents set me up with the life they did, that I can consider something beyond myself and my family in my decisions, and that is not a privilege I am going to let go to waste. That is why I joined the Peace Corps, that is why I’ll always think bigger than just myself, and that is why I want my legacy to encompass something good for this big, beautiful world.

Mom and Dad, I know you have grown to fall in love with my Peace Corps journey while I’ve been out here, but now I hope you understand a little better how your story inspired me to not only make something great out of myself, but to do something good along the way. This one’s for you two.

Peace and love,

Kajol

A special shoutout to my lovely friends who joined me on this trip. Jen, Fiona, Colin, and Ethan it was an honor to share India with you all. Big THANKS and PHOTO CREDIT to Ethan for capturing most of the pictures in this blog. I’ll cherish these memories forever and ever.