Context: I am at Navdanya Farm, outside of Dehradun, Uttaranchal, India. I have been here 6 days. I feel quite "at home," which is to say comfortable.
A young lady from Ecuador arrived on the farm yesterday, only to visit for a few days, and as we were peeling potatoes together in the kitchen, speaking in English, I asked her if we could speak in Spanish. She was delighted. There is this flame that burns very dimly, and under certain circumstances, it explodes into brightness, and in this moment, where I just wanted only to speak with this lovely woman from Ecuador in her own language, my mind was so "confundado" (which is what I said, when the word I was looking for was "confundida") between the floating Chinense, floating Hindi, and limited Spanish. In talking with her, I wanted nothing other than to travel to central and south America, improving my Spanish, and studying with curandera/os. It seems that my sense of "home," is so easily transported from place to place on these momentary whims of meeting interesting people from other places.
Later, as I lay in bed in the dorm-style room, one of my roommates, from the US, asks me how long ago I left "home?" and if I miss it? I tell her, I've never left my home... because I live in my body, and though I've tried escaping it, I haven't ever really left home.
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LOTS OF THINGS TO SAY, I'LL POST MORE SOON! (I promise)
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