Nisha in India!: December 25th: Christmas Morning

After the club, the thirteen of us sardine back into the car and drive to the church. When we arrive, the church is just as packed at the car. We can hardly get into the church, or that's what I would have said if I didn't learn how to "Indian"*. Indians unlike Canadians don't really follow the same rules when it comes to butting people, or shoving your way through a crowd. There are no rules really, you just go and push your way until you get to where you need to be. It's kind of refreshing actually. You know when you want so desperately to push the people in front of you so you can be at the front, but don't because the culturally that would be wrong? WELL IT'S POSSIBLE HERE.

So we push your way to the very front, and by the kindness of the people occupying the first two pews, let us have them. I also think that everyone else let us Foreigner-and-therefore-Christians through. We have missed a bunch and sit down enter right before the Sanctus. At this point of writing, I hardly remember if the service was in English or Hindi. I remember the church being bigger than mine. It was made of out white stone, and was plain in comparison. The choir had about 10 people, there was a dinky little Christmas tree in front of the alter, but the advent candles were out.

The end of the service comes, and most of us are sobbing openly. Crying for the same reasons I did way back when I went into the church in Goa. Christmas time is when an exchange student feels the most homesick typically, for obvious reasons. For most people, Christmas is largely about togetherness&family and traditions& familiarity. And here we are, thousands of miles away from the families that we have shared most Christmases with. It's 23 degrees right now and there is no snow. I'm not going home after the midnight mass to see what Santa left for me and my siblings and to open three gifts from my family. I'm not going to get four hours of sleep and then drive two hours to Toronto to see the rest of my family. Instead I'm going to perform Indian dances in front of 1200 Rotarians.

As Indians leave the church, we are hugging each other tightly and sobbing into each others shoulder. Most of my friends love India and don't daydream of Canada like me, but for tonight I think most do. Dozens of Indians go out of their way to wish us a Merry Christmas. I remember distinctly one man saying to us "Merry Christmas. Even though you're far away from home, the Lord is still with you"

Outside the church, Pooja's driver is waiting for us. And we sardine once more, but this time instead of happy singing, it was homesick tears.

Between the thirteen of us there are two rooms, and just like South Tour, the bigger room is deemed the party room. About four or five actually go to sleep. The plan was to stay up all night, cry and share Christmas stories with each other. To my surprise tears dried quickly, and we reflected on our Christmases with fond memories, and eventually got sleepover crazies. To quote Chris Yoder,

"We shared a lot with each other that night – our food, our homes, our personal stories, our personal space. We shared in our sorrow and we shared in our happiness. Essentially, we were sharing ourselves."

It was truly another bonding experience for us, and one of those memories that I will treasure most in my lifetime.

Eventually we knew we had to sleep, since - we WERE performing in about 12 hours. Sleeping was troublesome. There were four people on the double bed and mosquito's buzzing by our ears. Everytime I woke up from sticking to Kelsey or a mosquito buzzing by, I was happy. I just kept thinking to myself "This is Christmas" I still got to go to church, and I still got to sing the descants. I'm spending it with this family, for the first time and last time. I think that this might be the best Christmas ever.

Eventually 7am comes and we wake up and get ready to leave. After discussing the ridiculousness of last night, and head downstairs, have a cup of chai and leave the Khatri's.

India doesn't really wake up until around 1pm on a non hoilday day, so trying to find an auto this early in the morning is almost impossible. Thirteen exchange students walk out of a house wearing nice clothes, and gross faces...what a sight that would have been for the few locals who were awake. We walk for about 15 minutes in the chilly morning air before we find an over-priced auto. Anais, Amanda, Chris and I get into one and the others sort out their own auto's. I'm sitting on Amanda's lap, (Autos fit three people on the seat... anymore than that means placing people where they will fit.) with the cold wind slowing at my back. We're half-way there when suddenly, our auto wallah stops.

Nisha: Kyaa hua? (What happened?)
Auto Wallah: Petrol empty.
Nisha: ... WHAT.

I lost it. I got the crazies for the second time today. I was laughing hyterically. I couldn't believe it. Not just the petrol empty, not just because I was freezing, or that I hadn't got enough sleep, OR that I'm super gross. It's that I am all of these things, in India, on Christmas day. Overloaded with stimuli.

Back at Anais's we have just over an hour to shower, eat and go start the rest of Christmas day.

And I will end this Christmas morning post with a little compilation of my family. Enjoy.

Brown Club at Golkunda Fort, Hydrabad.

Dascha, Franzi and Chris sitting by the fire in Mahabalipuram.

This is Sebastian from Columbia. He is the genius behind most of the pictures of south tour. Sebastian actually reminds me of my exchange brother from Brazil. He's laid-back, doesn't take too much tension over anything and is soooo hilarious. Unfortunately, I only had south tour to be with him. He leaves India in January. Sadface.