Wednesday, January 18, 2012

Recycling old writes...

Stranger

I've never been a big fan of Chennai (what was formally known to the world as Madras). It has to be one of the most conservative cities in South India. The humidity there in and of itself is the worst ever. It is comparable to the East Coast in the States- summers are a major yuckfest for sure. When I was younger I loathed to go there. Except for the beaches, it was my least favorite place to be. It's interesting because I dislike living in VA for the same reasons!

When I went back after not having visited in many years, I was shocked at my response. I was pleasantly surprised! The second I landed and exited the airport in Chennai, I fell in love with the place. Because of the humidity and proximity to the Arabian Sea, EVERYTHING grown in Chennai tastes amazing. The fruits and vegetables were like ambrosia. More than that, I felt like I had come home. I thought for sure I'd feel that way when I landed in my birthplace a few hundred miles north, but I didn't. I felt like a stranger in Bangalore. Initially. But that would change as well...

About five years ago, while I was at work, I turned to my co-worker and said suddenly, "Gosh, I feel so strange wearing this skin. I feel so estranged from the sounds that come out of my mouth. I don't know who I am anymore. I feel like a fakir." Of course my co-worker had no clue as to what I was talking about and just smiled, nodded, and walked away. I probably didn't know what I was saying either. Much of the time I'll blurt out things that only make sense to me afterward. Sometimes, eve years afterward... I find I do this even when I pass by someone and I get instant impressions about the person. And they usually end up being accurate forecasts. I guess some people call this intuition, others, psychic abilities, and for the really super imaginative, "weird" or "crazy". As for myself, I just think it confuses the heck out of people sometimes, even me. Well, at least, it used to until I started owning these split second impressions and working with them. I don't ever second guess myself or impressions anymore- they are like my stick girls, my best friends, my look out boos. I love this about me. I have made it this far with the few bruises I have because of my incredibly prescient ally residing deep within.

When I was in Chennai, I felt like I recovered my skin, my tongue, and my self. I felt so at home. Language is so powerful. Tamil, my mother tongue, is spoken in Chennai. When I speak Tamil, I never feel masked. I never feel like a stranger to myself. My family, my people, were everywhere and I felt so safe and so alive. It was a blissful and cathartic revelation. I understood what I was lamenting over five years ago. It made sense. It made sense, because a few months after being back here, I am starting to feel the malaise of forgetting myself again. But I will not allow this to happen! I will exodus soon...

Which is why I am such a geek for languages. I feel at home in the world of non-english speakers. Whether it is in French, Hindi, Kannada, Arabic, Farsi, or Chinese. I'm not sure why this is, but I just don't relate to myself in English as well, or at least I don't want to just remain in the world of English. It is also all the more difficult to relate to others in English, especially when there are other factors like culture, upbringing, values, education, likes, dislikes, and other preferences that are not in alignment. The gaps become even more pronounced. I suffer from cabin fever when dealing with mono-linguals, I guess. Language is but the tip of an iceberg when it comes to another human being, but it can tell us so much, offer so many clues...