Reilly Hodson

One of the hardest parts of coming home was that question. It came in many forms: "How was it?", "How was your exciting month?", or simply, "How was India?". Over the past few weeks I have tried my best to deal with that question through a combination of annoyed grunts, sighs, and approximations like, "Oh, it was great".

 

The fact is, my India experience can't just be put into a sentence. Or an essay. Or possibly even a book. Yet here I am, trying desperately to compile all my thoughts into one final blog post. And, like Mr Skeen told us when he was about to write his final reflection, I'm scared. This one has to mean something. There's no going back now, no time for stupid jokes about $4 pants or facial hair. Somehow, I have to put down how India impacted me, not even a month after I have got back. How, I do not know. All I know is that after a month in the craziest, worst, best place I've ever been, I see New Zealand differently.

 

I'm sitting at my computer, which cost a few years' salary for most of the people I met, in my office, which is the size of a house for ten people in the slum we went to in Mumbai. This all used to seem so normal, and now it just makes me feel guilty. I wish I could go back to how it was, but I really can't. I can't help but think that my frustration at how my phone is deciding not to charge pales in comparison to the poverty I witnessed. I'm angry about my first world problems, but I can't shake the images in my mind.

 

One in particular sticks out: we were in Brooklyn and a lady was taking us to her house. It had no lights, damp concrete walls and a few small rooms. Despite the fact that this would have seemed like nothing back home, this lady was so proud of what she had. Her smile was infectious and she was so happy to be bringing us through her home. The hardship she must go through really struck me and after our tour I went downstairs just wanting to leave. I didn't like the way that affected me and, like many times in India, I wanted to run away. I wanted to get away from the guilt that whole experience made me feel. Instead, we were thrust back into it again and again. That was the worst and best part of the month I spent in India.

 

India isn't over for me, and I doubt it ever will be. I made lifelong friends with some great guys who will always be the only ones who understand. I still remember little moments which didn't seem important while they happened, but have been magnified with hindsight. India really put everything into perspective for me, and I think it will shape the man I will become in the future. I can't wait.