Home.

The journey home--three flights, to Frankfurt, DC, and then later to Boston--was relatively easy, and full of chatter. I met people from all over: an engineer who had been in Hyderabad for a week; another engineer who had been on a base in Afghanistan for two; a bus driver for DC public schools coming home from Eritrea; an early childhood intervention specialist and her three year old daughter from Eugene, Oregon. Usually I avoid airplane conversations, but this time around they felt so useful, an opportunity to process my journey with others; to compare notes, to make a few myself. I learned that there's only one ATM in Afghanistan for civilian use (in Kabul); that kids there know how to avoid roadside IEDs by putting rocks in front of them. I even learned a few words in Tighani.

Walking around DC the other night was surreal; the streets are broad, clean, and lined with tall glass fronted buildings. People mill around, headed to clubs or back from dinner; the sidewalks are social spaces, everything is quiet, safe, easy. There's so much that's easy to take for granted as a citizen of a developed country, and so much that's basically astounding about the way we build and maintain our cities, and preserve our green spaces. I thought I'd feel guilty enjoying these things, but I don't, just incredibly grateful.

The debrief in DC was good; short, productive, and useful; American Councils and Mary Ellen (our State Dept. liason) seemed really interested in our feedback, which they'll use with next year's group. I left for Boston with a page full of notes about next steps, personally, professionally. While certain things in India are difficult (leaving, for example; the New Delhi airport is crazy), meeting people--other teachers, education ministers, whole families, NGO people, US government folks-- there isn't. I'm sad to leave my friends and colleagues, but excited about staying in touch.

What will I miss most about my summer in India? The magic ways things come together there, even if they seem unlikely/impossible. IST. (Indian Standard Time). Home cooked meals of roti, daal, kadhi. Chai, of course. The warm smiles and blessings of friends. My students' nearly overwhelming enthusiasm. The warrior helmet from Uttar Pradesh we took turns wearing in Delhi, Frankfurt, DC. The brightly colored saris of women carrying jugs and sacks on their heads. The Ganga. The Kosi.

This will probably be my last blog entry, at least for now; I'll try to link this blog to another which I'll use with students here. Thank you thank you to everyone who has read, commented, and enjoyed the last month's worth of work with me.