See You Later Naini Tal

On Thursday July 2^nd we packed up and moved on out of Naini Tal to travel to Rishikesh for a week. It was a happy moment for some and a bittersweet moment for others. I truly loved my stay in Naini Tal. This was the place that I celebrated my birthday, where I started to come out of my shell, where I felt in touch with nature, but most of all this is the place that I felt at home. I have not felt homesick on this trip because I have yet in my life to feel at home and Naini Tal changed that for me. I absolutely loved my homestay family and I could not be more grateful to them for not only opening their home to my roommates and me but for doing so with wide open arms. I learned so much during my twelve day stay in the mountains. I learned how beautiful life can be once you truly open your eyes. I learned the importance of family. I learned that fart jokes by two and half year old boys are funny in any language. Comparatively, art is also a universal language. I learned that my hatred for spiders could increase, and it did. The lessons continue: cold showers aren’t all that bad and they do wonders for your hair; never leave the country without your music—you will go mad; a child’s smile is the most precious of life’s jewels; simplicity is happiness. The last two resonate with me the most. After spending several days with my homestay brother’s two and a half year old son and my paint sets, I knew that I needed to leave them with him. Watching him mix colors on the paper and look up at me for approval was one of many highlights from this trip, but it is one that warms my heart. My last night there I put everything in its appropriate packaging and gave him the brushes, pallet, paper, and pencils. Seeing his eyes light up as he looked to both his father and grandmother was more than rewarding enough to part with my materials. I can always buy more and now another creative mind can continue to do what he enjoys. He is a very shy child but I was fortunate enough to get him to warm up to me enough for a hug here and there and a few games. The second one is very important. For the past twelve days I have had Wi-Fi maybe ¼ of the time. While at times it was frustrating I learned to let it go. I’m not in India to be watching cat videos on YouTube or updating my Facebook status. Everything I need is right here with me. I had a roof over my head, a firm bed to sleep on, more than enough food in my tummy, plenty of safe drinking water, and human interaction. There truly isn’t anything more needed to achieve happiness. Now, I do need to make something quite clear—this stay was not all rainbows and ponies. There were days that I cried. I was very sick for about four days and finally was able to keep food down on my birthday. It rained poured about ¾ of the stay. The schedule was constantly changing. But these things all seem quite minor to me. To be quite frank, a month or so ago these things would have had me in the fetal position screaming to the world “why me?!” Why not me? Why not you? These things helped me to appreciate this stay even more. These past twelve days have helped me to grow in numerous ways. I have wasted so many years of my life depriving myself of the joys of being human, but in these twelve days a very important shift began. I began to taste food and enjoy it. I went for walks and allowed myself to become overwhelmed with the beauty of nature. Instead of having a full mind, I attempted to be mindful any chance I got. And I began to process some very important things. While talking with someone important to me about personal matters reality knocked me to the ground. I have spent years destroying my body because it has been used and abused and I didn’t want it anymore. Her response was astounding. Nature is used and abused left, right, and up the middle. She asked me if we should destroy it too. “Do not look at yourself with disgust; you are a gift to this earth. You are beautiful; you are a light, an energy, an essence. You are nature herself.” Just let that sink in.

                I loved my stay in Naini Tal. If I continued to explain everything I learned we would end up with a novel. I will end on this note: I refused to say “goodbye” to Naini Tal because I feel that goodbyes are forever—a closed door and a fading memory. I left my homestay family with three simple words: “see you later.” I do plan to visit once again, but if these plans do not work at least the door is still open. These three words are a promise to keep in touch and have our paths cross again.