This is the second of two posts about one expat family’s first year in Bangalore, India. This story is told in words instead of pictures because while photos are great for showing the big adventures, words are better for explaining the subtlety of the day-to-day experiences that don’t seem to merit a photo in the moment, but are as equally important.

Quick digression: For the last blog post I wanted to put up pics of my mom’s October visit to Bangalore, Delhi and Agra, and Andree and family’s April visit to Bangalore and Mysore, but my transition from iPhotos to Photos resulted in some misplaced pictures. Visits from loved ones are the absolute best, and make us feel like we were still connected to home and not aliens stranded on a hostile planet.

With the two older gals home with me for summer vacation, mental energy has been spent on things other than writing—breaking up fights over who gets to hold Stardust, the white cat, and figuring out the inevitable and constant “I’m bored” options. So while we have been here in Bangalore a bit over a year at this point, I’m only now getting a second to process what this year has meant. I vacillate between “this is so fun, I’m not done yet” to “I cannot handle this SHIT SHOW IN THIS ASS BACKWARDS TOWN another day and must leave now.” Definitely depends on the day and whether the overall vibe of it was more adventure or more frustration. I do enough bitching so this post will focus on the special gift of the past year.

With Dan going in to work at 9:30 am instead of 5:00 am and having helpers, there is time to do what I want to do for the first time since I was maybe 10. I have said all this before, but it’s really amazing when all the energy it takes to do the endless daily chores is yours instead of spent cooking or cleaning. Thus far, these are the things that I have had the opportunity to choose to do:

Fitness. I have never been hugely into exercising regularly, although I always meant to. In college if I had too many Gumby Damnit pizzas, I just did 20 sit-ups and was all set. After Masan came along, mostly I ate only yogurt and stressed about whether we were going to have to move back in with my parents until Dan found a new job, and the baby weight mostly melted off. I definitely thought of myself as fit enough before I moved to Bangalore because of all the walking I did, and all the schlepping up and down walk-ups with 3 kids and a stroller.

Just like the path to hell, my fitness path was paved with good intentions. Back home I consistently tried to get to a 7:00 pm yoga class or a day-time Zumba class at the Y, but inevitably, my plans would be thwarted by a husband having to work late or Mia screaming and refusing to stay in the child-watch room. For 3 months, I am proud to say, I went to Pure Barre classes every single day in Brooklyn. It helped that it was a block from our apartment, but that was the extent of my fitness commitment. Here in Bangalore I have time to really exercise for at least an hour each day. The classes I take from the comfort of my neighborhood are cross-training, Bollywood Zumba, cardio and weights, and I have even hired a personal trainer and am hilariously weight training. Exerting myself in this way has helped my outlook, energy level, and given me something to look forward to that’s just for myself before it’s time to be there for anyone else.

Pain management: With all of this exercise, I have exacerbated the fracture in my spine and irritated my hip (yes, I am middle aged), but it’s all okay because a weekly session with my chiropractor puts everything back into place. Having adjustments has honestly changed my life! The chronic pain I have had since I was pregnant with Mia is not as prevalent—still there from time to time, but manageable for the first time.

Volunteering: The anganwadis/government preschools in Bangalore are in bad shape, as I have written about in previous posts. Basically they lack anything that’s standard at home, like hygiene, running water, sanitation. Our unofficial NGO is called Links for Education (from the Ghandi quote, “Basic education links children, either of the cities or villages, with all that is best and lasting in India.”). Unofficial because we aren’t going to do all the piles of paperwork needed to make it official, and oh yeah, because we get our funding from bake sales.

Our latest mission is to get the BBMP government office (they have something to do with infrastructure, and apparently sewage systems) to build child-friendly potties. The last meeting we had with the man over there didn’t go so well because he didn’t even bother to show up. His assistant AKA bouncer was only interested in 2 things: 1) could we vote in Bellandur (his boss is an elected official) and 2) my neighbor Urvi, who I encouraged to use to our advantage to get him to help us. We waited for over an hour before we gave up. Based on the toilet situation in the office, which was cleaned with a broom and no cleaning liquid, I’m pretty sure BBMP and I have very different ideas about what is a proper potty. An interesting fact is that this man’s wife is really the elected official, however, she is just a figurehead and he does the actual work. Of course.

Today we were able to get face time with this government official after an hour-long wait. He seemed confused by us, and especially me. He didn’t understand us being there as volunteers not getting anything financial out of all this. And I think I am probably the only non-Indian who has ever set foot into that office. Anyway, he said that the land the anganwadi is on is defense land and that if we are to do any work in the way of building toilets, it would have to be done at night so that the satellites the defense ministry has won’t see the work. A prime example of how things get done in Bangalore: By flirting and illegally in the dead of night. Although we don’t yet have a plan for the toilets and how they can be built, we have a follow up meeting on Friday, so we will see. Small steps, low expectations. Urvi may have to date the assistant.

OWC Charities Committee: After months of floundering in the dark with anuLIFE and the anganwadi revitalization project, and not having any idea what I’m doing, I wanted to be involved with a path already paved. Which is what this committee is. It’s an administrative volunteer position where we oversee the grand funding process for the 21 charities the Overseas Women’s Club supports. It’s run by this very efficient British expat, and the whole thing is very organized. It’s not as hands-on as I would like it to be, but I have a chance to help out with the charities in whatever ways they need. It’s a welcome change to be told what to do rather than try to figure it out without any guidance or training in non-profit management in developing countries.

Self-care: Perhaps the very best thing about Bangalore is Suma who comes to massage me once a week. And every other week she gives me a pedi and a facial. The BEST. I’m not even embarrassed about the luxury of it all any longer.

Meditation: I am trying to find space to be mindful and in the moment, so my new thing is doing a meditation app each night. It’s not going as well as I’d like because the new season of Game of Thrones is on now…

So are we ready to go back home or are we happy here? It’s hard to say, but what I do know is that it’s been a fantastic year with so many adventures and positive experiences. Of course, there has also been so much absolute SHIT. With issues with the house and traffic and dealing with a culture that is so misogynistic it

makes me want to punch someone it’s been a struggle at points. But overall, it’s been a magical gift.

I have heard from other expats that year one is about getting adjusted to a new culture, and year one to two is all about enjoying your new country, whether it’s providing medical care in poor neighborhoods, brunching at hotels as often as possible, socializing, doing Bollywood dancing, etc. And year two to three is about transitioning to that next thing. It would be much easier to know what that next thing is. A new country? The UK? Hong Kong? Back to New York? Is there even a next job for Dan or will he have to stress to find the right one? It’s all up in the air. This year has taught me that sometimes the best things come out of where you least expect them and some ambiguity is okay, and even exciting. And home isn’t so much about the place, but about the people that we’re with.