8:30 am on my first day back to DC and I’m already bored. Since I woke at 7, I have unpacked, brewed multiple rounds of tea, eaten breakfast, and even set a pot of yoghurt. The entire day is ahead of me, and I could very realistically already have run of things to do. But it's only 8.30 am. Time refuses to move any faster.
I evaluate my options.
1. Get out of here. The DC landscape seems vast and unexciting in comparison to Delhi, where I spent the last few months, kind of like the Steppes might if you'd just left New York. There is nobody on the streets, the house has only gathered a nano layer of dust, as though things are used to not being used at all, and the sleepiness of summer holidays only compounds the feeling that there are still just as many things not to do since the last time I was here.
My first instinct is to run away (default setting, can't help it). I could get another job, or at least ask to be able to work from another country. Tanzania, Sri Lanka, anywhere but here.
See, my life here is incredibly self-centred. I live on my own, I shop for myself, and I have no responsibility for anyone other than me. A "table for one, please" sort of situation, where I am the centre of my own sad little universe. In comparison to Delhi, I have hours of empty time ahead of me that I don't know what to do with now that I don't have to worry about coordinating household logistics, doctors' appointments, grocery and pickup/dropoff schedules, all through a maze of incessant standstill traffic. #whothoughtIwouldevermisschaos
Things are so much easier here. Want 'special diet'-friendly superfoods? Go to nearly any supermarket. Want medicines? Go to CVS (while we're on this, has everyone noticed how they smell the same all over the US?). Want to wash your clothes? Walk to the washer/dryer in your apartment. None of that hand wash, rope line dry, iron stuff. You get the idea, life is easy, yada yada ya.
No wonder corporate America is so obsessed with tracking their number of steps, hours of sleep, and the 'nutritional' value of their meals among other things. Everything is so organised and standardised that they have a ton of time to ruminate on little things. First World Problems.
But I'm not going to go further into that right now. Just to say this bubble-wrap world looks great in the movies, but it's not for me. Most of the world lives in a world with serious everyday existence-affecting kind of problems; low access to water and shelter, a lack of safety, vulnerability to all sorts of epidemics, wars and natural disasters. Who am I to ship myself to the US in a flying metal box and pretend like it's the only place in the world, that only its miniscule neurotic-person-affecting problems here are worth publicising and listening to. I am not the New Yorker.
Option 1, seeming likely. Soon.
2. Get another job. After spending days on days on days of waking up and not having any work-related activities planned, let's just say I've gotten very good at the (American) news, and had lots of time to not finish personal projects in the last year. That's why I went to India.
Fast forward a few months, I've signed up for two jobs in the same organisation, which if things go the way they are going, could mean more days spent vaguely doing things I don't really care about, but in the best case could mean more more learning, travel and workaholism (YAY). I'm planning to do double the work and spend half the time on it before caving in to Option 1 and finding a job to match. Let's see how that goes.
So, Option 2, check. Sort of.
3. Volunteer my time at non-profits. My day job is in poverty alleviation, and I have a lot of free time outside of work, so this is a no-brainer. Because busy N is happy N, and I otherwise feel so self-absorbed on an everyday basis, and because my mother, who is one of the world's kindest, most generous people, said I should probably spend some time serving others. (Thanks for keeping it real, Ma!). So I'm now signed up for meal prep and community gardening over the coming weeks.
Option 3, check.
4. Personal projects. Some people say lots of empty time is great for getting your head straight, or being creative. I bet these people are new moms, nurses/EMTs, or otherwise overly stressed out people, because my creativity is at its best when I'm sleep-deprived (as I type this, it's now nearing 6 am and I am still awake), when I'm studying for a test I don't really want to give, or when I generally have a million things to do in the space of a few hours. Truth.
Surprisingly for me (and my ardent fan-following), despite the relative lack of stress in the past year, except the dull throb of constant what-am-I-doing-with-my-life type moments, the personal project front has gone semi-well. I've studied quantitative public service delivery related things, taught myself Spanish from textbooks and TV shows (enough to understand when they're trying to con me out of a cocaine deal anyway), spent a fair bit of time practising for my soon-to-be-released imaginary cookbook and working out with Jenny, Kelly, Wayne, and the good yoga ladies of Youtube. Thank you, Internet. Where would I be without you?
But there's so much more I need to do. Finish that Python course. Start a data science one. Write more, photograph more, publish more, put out an exhibition, make music, become famous...well, you know. So yeah, tons to be done.
Option 4, forever in process.
5. F*** all, find a friend, and go travelling. Do I need to explain this? I agree that popular media depicts young people travelling as a hipster millenial myth. Before that, they claimed it was for hippies or the wayward, or for the very well-endowed. Thing is, popular media will forever complain, because people are boring and like to complain and can't stand to be in places they don't understand the language in. So what will you do?
We inhabit an entire planet, and I think it's a shame we only see a microscopic speck of it. It's amazing how people can live so differently just kilometres from each other, or how similarly birds, trees and cuisines can grow despite being oceans apart. Travel, in the kind of light-budget, walk-everywhere-and-eat-where-the-locals-do kind of way (or through assignments all over the world!) allows at least me to see, oh... humour, humility, impermanence, beauty. It is the single reason for any existing wonder and curiosity (though again, I have to thank Mother and Father for planting the seed and nurturing the sapling) and also for incessant philosophising. It helps me figure out more efficient new ways to do old things, and educates me of the old ways to do things we take for granted (pan-toasted bread or any kind of food prep, tongas and bullock carts, construction work). I could go on.
It's part of the reason my brain is wired the way it is. My entire growing up years, the consequences of (or embarrassment from) any action died out in a maximum period of three years, when we would promptly pack up and move to a new place, so I had no real sense of self-preservation (and few friends). What little I have has been cultivated by living amongst conformists progressives in Europe and the USA. "Welcome to the world of work, don't stick out too much, okay?"
So lah di dah di. Life is what it is, and travel will always be my comfort zone -- being in a new place with no agenda and minimal understanding of the local language. The tenuous accuracy of Google map distances and fortuitous meetings with wonderful people who become your real life friends. Airport security and plane food. Ugh, no, never mind that.
Option 5, I got you, babe.
Anyway, I'm sure that was illuminating. I'll let you know how it goes.
