What I Didn't Want To Do

One of the best things about Cathy being here (besides the riotous laughter) is that she's gently encouraged me to go out and meet people in my community. I am an introvert who hardly spends "quality time" with the people I like. I don't enjoy speaking Hindi to people I don't know very well either. So getting to know the women in my neighborhood has felt truly daunting.

Yesterday, though, because C was with me, I met two nurses who work in the little clinic next to my apartment building. They invited us inside, and we found ourselves in a recovery room where a woman had given birth to a son very recently. She was lying on a rustic bed sipping chai, while her much-older husband beamed at us, and made sure that we knew that the baby in a family member's arms was his sixth child--and a son at that. He lifted his hands in praise to Allah. Neither he nor anyone else in the room seemed to find it strange that two white women were intruding on their private moment.

The mother heaved herself up a moment later to offer Cathy and me chai. I was slightly--no, truly--horrified that she would feel it necessary to offer us hospitality, and quickly smiled and mumbled in Hindi that we were about to go have coffee, and that she should rest. The nurse smiled at us warmly, and it dawned on me that I might have made a friend...

Today, we saw the same nurse again and chatted with her about the weather. Then the washerwoman from downstairs joined the conversation, her mouth full of food, and mocked the weather forecast. It was congenial. Slowly, the two high school students studying for exams upstairs made their way over and just listened to the white girls speak Hindi.

And without realizing it, I had done what I didn't want to do. And liked it. Thanks, Cath.