April 23: Day four of my retreat from the world (the real, imagined, and digital ones).
1. The Power of Chai
I'm coming to you from the future and the past. Here, it's your tomorrow, and yet I wrote this day ago, only for it to magically appear for you to read at this very moment!
If there is one thing India has taught me, it is that time is not a constant. I'm sure that, up in retreat, I'm learning a very similar lesson.
India time didn't come easily to me at first. Classes start 10 minutes late, end 10 minutes early. Buses run when they want to, as do trains. The only thing for sure about when your arranged plans will happen is that they will happen any time other than the arranged time. Even the washing machine at my first homestay seemed to be on India time, slowly draining my clothes as I watched (and, at one point, whimpered) for an additional 45 minutes after the load was supposed to end.
But after a few short weeks, India time became the norm. I'm sure that I will be delighting and frustrating my Western friends as a bubble of India time follows me back to the West. But we'll see.
Chai, quite simply, is the most perfect thing India has ever dreamed of. Besides it's reparative and relaxing qualities, chai also has power over time. You see, at any given moment time will stop; all that needs to happen is the entrance of two (or more) small cups of chai into the environment. Suddenly, it's chai time.
It's a bit magical. Everything stops, whether it's work or school or daily life, or even something rather pressing. Time out of time. The shop closes, the curtain is drawn. The waiter disappears. Others who want your attention fade away, knowing d*mn well what chai time means. The next thing you know, you've been chatting with several complete strangers for several hours, and you're not really sure where time has gone.
Tasting chai, you're tasting a different kind of time.
1. The Power of Chai
If there is one thing India has taught me, it is that time is not a constant. I'm sure that, up in retreat, I'm learning a very similar lesson.
India time didn't come easily to me at first. Classes start 10 minutes late, end 10 minutes early. Buses run when they want to, as do trains. The only thing for sure about when your arranged plans will happen is that they will happen any time other than the arranged time. Even the washing machine at my first homestay seemed to be on India time, slowly draining my clothes as I watched (and, at one point, whimpered) for an additional 45 minutes after the load was supposed to end.
But after a few short weeks, India time became the norm. I'm sure that I will be delighting and frustrating my Western friends as a bubble of India time follows me back to the West. But we'll see.
Chai, quite simply, is the most perfect thing India has ever dreamed of. Besides it's reparative and relaxing qualities, chai also has power over time. You see, at any given moment time will stop; all that needs to happen is the entrance of two (or more) small cups of chai into the environment. Suddenly, it's chai time.
It's a bit magical. Everything stops, whether it's work or school or daily life, or even something rather pressing. Time out of time. The shop closes, the curtain is drawn. The waiter disappears. Others who want your attention fade away, knowing d*mn well what chai time means. The next thing you know, you've been chatting with several complete strangers for several hours, and you're not really sure where time has gone.
Tasting chai, you're tasting a different kind of time.
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