A couple of weeks ago I had the opportunity to travel from Ongole to the big modern city of Hyderabad. Think Marion, IN to Indianapolis, IN. While we have most modern conveniences here in Ongole, we are still very traditional. Woman never show their ankles or their shoulders. Going to the movie theatre is somewhat scandalous. We have no restaurants that Westerners would know but the food from the street vendors tastes like it comes from your grandmother's kitchen. I buy the fabric for my clothes in the local market and have it sewn at a local tailor. Hyderabad is like any city in the West. The girls and I went to a mall and we were completely overwhelmed. As I walked around and saw the familiar sites of Forever 21 and Chili's Restaurant I started feeling homesick. But as I thought about it I realized I wasn't homesick for Lombard but for Ongole.
I missed my breakfast dosa costing me 0.35 cents, served on a banana leaf and newspaper.
I missed the view that greets me every time I brush my teeth.
I missed zooming about the city in autos.
But above all I missed my children. It was then that I realized for the first time that these kiddos have become my family and that I am head over heels in love with them.
So while I may shed a few tears at missing events like family reunions, weddings and birthdays, God has made India my home for the foreseeable season. My children are here and they need me.
I missed my breakfast dosa costing me 0.35 cents, served on a banana leaf and newspaper.
I missed the view that greets me every time I brush my teeth.
I missed zooming about the city in autos.
But above all I missed my children. It was then that I realized for the first time that these kiddos have become my family and that I am head over heels in love with them.
So while I may shed a few tears at missing events like family reunions, weddings and birthdays, God has made India my home for the foreseeable season. My children are here and they need me.
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