Getting away from that place I initially got away to

I am writing this from a wonderfully comfortable couch in a luxurious apartment in Abu Dhabi. The (almost illegal) caffeine content of my latest double espresso shot mocha latte grande frappi drinky thing (code for something from Starbucks, which all you Fair Trade groupies can detest me for, but I swear, no other options out here!), while making typing a bit of choreographically challenged exercise, has inspired me to once again clog up the internet arteries with some more musings. While I thought that I might gain some major perspective on the great India adventure during my time in the Emirates, I have instead found that it has become more of a Major Blur. Which makes me wonder if I'm not in a state of Major Denial about going back, since the week's lifestyle that has included a steady diet of fresh fruits, exercise and the much needed presence of a dear, dear friend (xox Alex) has turned my otherwise friend and vitamin and sleep deprived world upside down. If India has been a true opportunity for personal inquiry, it has not been nearly as kind on my physical well-being. I took trips to the village doctor, trying to understand a plague of headaches, sleeplessness, weight-loss and weakness. Oddly enough, the prescription to eat more goat, throw back some vitamins and take a longer afternoon nap didn't quite do the trick. Maybe because the staff seemed to be confusing chicken with goat. Or because the vitamins not only looked just like M&M's, but were M&M's.

Nadine, (another volunteer) and I, started swapping sleeping horror stories "Hey, last night I slept 2 hours! And got up at 4:30 am! And I've had five fake chicory root coffees since! and I can't remember my name!" The ever-important work, once a passion, was morphing into a terrifying and insurmountable chore. During a typical night of insomnia, I miraculously developed a 6 week action plan for a Fair Trade cottage industry soap program. I handed it over to the staff after drinking enough faux cafe to give me the jolt I needed to make it over to the office. They seemed delighted with it. The next day, at 5 am as I was driven to the airport to make the great-escape to health-land (RE: Abu Dhabi), Semai (staff member of the century) remarked "We spent an hour discussing your plan. We will do all we can to help you with this initiative." I thanked him, and (not kidding) thought "Wow, when I'm away, I'll probably do a bunch of work on this." But I haven't spent a moment on the project. I've been working on the more important task of physical rejuvenation, realizing that what I for so long took for granted - my body's well-being - had been effectively eroded in a few short months and with it went many other things as well. Between the intense heat, and a diet based on white rice and spicy yet, frankly, nutrient deprived sauces, not only was I getting physically smaller, but my motivation, was corroding around the edges. I felt a crisis of conscious ebbing my way. From being a woman who constantly defined herself by her ability to "work hard" I was becoming a couch potato with no television. And no couch. I was turning into my own worst nightmare, and although Baptisite and I would simply joke saying that we'd adopted a new way of working that seemed to reflect the relaxed demeanor of those around us, I still wanted to point an accusatory finger and wasn't scared to direct it at myself. And, well, that's what going around the world can do for a girl. The conditions around foist upon you mise en cause of your sense of self. You're one of those snow globes that suddenly gets a vigorous shake after many years of sitting still on a forgotten shelf. Displacement has literally rattled my every fiber, and each flake in this globe of mine represents all those things I thought I'd tamed and tucked away. And there they go, blurring my vision.