It ain’t India unless there’s a cow in the middle of the road.
Seriously, every place I’ve been, cows can be found leisurely crossing the road (and other farm animals, but the cow is the most quintessential), seemingly oblivious to the hurricane of traffic swirling around them.
If I had to concisely sum up my experience of India, I would describe it as sensory overload. This feeling mainly applies to my time in the major cities, as Ladakh and Arunachal Pradesh are much more remote, peaceful, and pleasing to the senses (or at least to mine). But despite the dense population and chaotic way of life here, things seem to function, even if I can’t always see the rhyme or reason as a foreigner.
“It is better by noble boldness to run the risk of being subject to half the evils we anticipate than to remain in cowardly listlessness for fear of what might happen.” (Herodotus, 485-425 BC)
My experience in Newfoundland over the past few years has inspired mixed feelings: on one hand, I’ve cultivated some wonderful friendships here. I’m truly grateful to be surrounded by kind, caring individuals, and I’m very lucky for the opportunities I’ve been given. However, I don’t feel like I’m hyperbolizing when I say that St. John’s has sucked the life out of me. I acknowledge that several stressful events, which I won’t delve into, have contributed to my current state of being; this state is difficult to define, but it could adequately be described by a combination of the words “meh” and “fuck this shit” (profanity is necessary to properly convey my feelings, I assure you).