Conclusion

So, I’ve officially left. No just India, but a community, life, and home of which I have been a part of for the past 11 months. The past year has been an adventure filled with challenges and successes that have pushed me throughout this experience. However, when I reflect back on my time in India, and Andur specifically, I’m struck by the level of joy and satisfaction that my memories bring back. And I think I can say that the impact has been mutual – my work in Andur as a part of the larger social improvement made by my organization along with the transformation and maturity I have undergone by overcoming an innumerable number of “unknowns” in a place very far from home. I came to India to learn more about the grunt work of international development. And I come away truly impressed by the strength and determination with which these communities approach their work. But I have also learned and grown immensely, with a better understanding of the world around me and appreciation for the opportunities I have.

Now, I don’t want to make it sound like my life here was easy. As many of you know, there were a number of times that the obstacles seemed insurmountable. Whether it be an unfamiliar, dare I say Indian, work environment straining against my efficiency-Americanized mind frame. Or crowds of people attempting to fit into a finite space on a ST bus. It seems as if I was constantly fighting – fighting against my preconceptions of what I wanted from this project/person/phone call/experience against the reality of an India that is far larger and more complex than myself. And there were times when the fight seemed too difficult, that the obstacles were an unnecessary diversion against my real objective or future. But, at the end of the day, I also fought back tears as my car left the NGO campus for the final time.

When I look back on my experience, it is not the frustrations or screaming matches I remember most; it is the community, the holidays (oh yes there were many), the meals that shine brightest. I can sum it up with a small story: I remember a time during summer vacation in May. Everyone had left, except for 5 of us remaining on the NGO campus: three nursing students, one village health worker, and me. At night we made dinner, then sat together on the mess floor to enjoy the fruits of our…well mostly their…labor. We ate, chatted, made jokes, and relaxed. Although the NGO complex was almost entirely empty, I felt a deep and committed sense of “place” – that I was somewhere I was accepted and belonged. That, aside from the obstacles of language and culture, I had formed a community that accepted me within its fold. My language skills improved. I got accustomed to the food. And my sense of “otherness” slowly faded away against the backdrop of community and friends. Is my time best remembered by the huge impact I made in rural primary health and women’s empowerment? Well, that is still to be determined. Instead, I look back at my coworkers, at the peanut farm, at the mangoes, at my poorly conceived idea of jokes (something about 4 wives) and I remember the laughs and meals, the conservations that I took part in or attempted to understand. To everyone in Andur, I will always be grateful.

So, yes it is a bittersweet ending. If you had asked me 10 months ago, I would have been counting the days until my return home (not to say I didn’t). Yet I am also reflecting back on an experience that is not just another blog post. It is a year of my life that has impacted me and will have profound ripples throughout my future. And I leave, not sad about what is left behind (emotional yes, sad no), but prepared to tackle the future with the same strength and resilience…and hesitation and fear… with which I came to Andur.