Deja Vu

As my plane landed in Bangalore last night, I felt a wave of nostalgia.

I remembered all the times I’ve been to this airport...

- arriving - scared and excited, I told Sid I was, “Fresh as a daisy” and he said, “welcome home”.  little did I know that it would soon become home.

- picking up the students - I felt like a local, and I was so excited for my kids.

- picking up my mom - nervous for my worlds to collide, but thrilled to share my life.

- flying to delhi - I was the “mom”, the guide, the leader.  and mom experienced white privilege firsthand for the first time the first encounter we had at the airport.

- returning from delhi - we hired a cab, probably the only driver in the city who spoke only hindi.  he got lost, and lost, and lost, and eventually we got out, walked to the rickshaw line, and hired an auto.  which was great, until the wheel fell off.  so we carried all our luggage to the bus depot and hired another auto to take us as far as a restaurant, and bribed another handsomely to finally take us home.

- dropping off my mom - she was so cute going through all the ticket lines, and after she made it through we went to find our driver only to realize he wasn’t answering his phone and we had no idea where he had parked...15 minutes of wandering the parking lot later, he finally answered.

- dropping off the kids - bittersweet.  this ended an era for them, for us. but i’m not going to lie, i was also excited to know i had my last weekend for me and only me to do with as i wished.

- leaving - terrible. cafe coffee day with Siddo and Roshen, laughs and jokes as we waited for goodbyes, even as I went through ticketing and signed with them through the window. but when I got to my gate...the waterworks began. and, minus naptimes, didn’t stop for a good 24 hours.

In December, Sid and Roshen said they gave me 6 months til I was back.

And here I am.

When I got off the plane, it was like deja vu...like I’d been here before.