My last full night in India

*it's 6:45 pm New Delhi time, Friday December 21st, 2007
*I've just come from swimming in the ocean, the Arabian sea: like a few days ago, the water is bathwater today. No one on the beach, with the exception of a few other guests from this resort. Two hotel guards sit by the edge of the palms, watching the after-sunset. The moon is nearly full tonight, and the colors are purple, blue and grey as the light lowers and lowers. The whole Western sky (looking out over the sea) is a giant mass of clouds; sort of an anvil shape. There are fishing canoes in the distance to the left and the right, but I am the only one left swimming. I find myself thinking, 'this is goodbye... It's quiet and I'm on the shore, looking West.' How (overly) appropriate.
*Our resort is decked-out in Christmas decor: oversized silver bells hang from the pillars and eves; pine-wreaths, garlands, and hanging balls have been placed, especially in the lobby and common area; giant paper stars lit from within by small electric lights are hung between different pairs of palm trees on the sweeping lawn; around the campus, Christmas lights have been strung along all the prominent angles and edges, and dipped from small Kerala trees. Here in the lobby (where I'm using typing) there is a small, artificial Christmas tree complete with ornaments, and presents beneath. Christmas carols are played softely over the P.A., a selection of songs that mention the lord's name more than I've ever heard.
*Today I spent a while talking with a young Londoner, here at the resort with his two sisters and parents. They're all on holiday, but after new years his family will leave, and he'll be traveling in India for the duration of his six-month visa. He's 26, a graduate with a B.A. in biology. He picked my brain a little about my time in India. He's just coming, and I'm just leaving.

I can't believe I'm about to leave. It started to really sink in for the first time when I was swimming--now around 30 minutes ago. Right now, I'm of so many minds. ["Jesus come into my heart, promise to never depart," sings an eight year old soprano. "Forgive me for all I've done wrong...!] I can't wait to be home, but I'm not sure I'm ready for this to be over. This may sound grim, but I think the hardest part about being truly happy is knowing that it will not last forever. I don't expect it to, nor should it. But I like who I am right now; and I think part of who I am right now, is in India.

It is time to go home now: quite simply, the tickets have been purchased--the plans have been made. But also, I think it's time to go home. That's where the next challenge is, inshallah. And I can't wait.

India, at the 11th hour.

Well, I can hardly believe it, but this show is nearly over. Semester wrapped up about a week and a half ago, and now mom and I are nearing the end of our little India tour. It's been terrific to have her hear, and we've been having a very nice time. Now I'm writing from a little internet cafe in the mountain town of Kumily, Kerala--in the southern portion of India. It's rainy and misty--it has been since we got here yesterday--but somehow that fits well with being in this lush jungle-ecosystem. Kerala is the spice-capital of India, and the country's main exporter of pepper and cardamon. We've been seeing the plantations, which are wonderful, and took an elephant ride this morning. This afternoon, we head out for a tour of the Periyar animal preserve, and hope to see some little creatures despite the constant rain. Hope everyone stateside (and otherwise) is doing well, and feeling nice as the crazy season kicks into high-gear. I'll be flying home at 1:00 am (Delhi time) on December 23, and arriving at JFK sometime in the evening of that same date. It's hard to believe! And mostly, I can't wait to see anyone who I see!
All the best, and signing off.
-Nick