Last week in Bangalore, I had dinner three nights in a row with friends from the area. One I originally met in Bangalore, one in Seattle, one in Munich. Flying home, I just ran into an American friend from Amsterdam who is returning from Dubai.
That sort of social network is a nice benefit of a global lifestyle, but there’s a certain mundanity that comes with it as well. India originally amazed me with the peaceful cacophony of traffic, contrast between cleanliness inside and dusty outdoors, the occasional cow on the street, shabby roads, and beautiful little temples.
After so many visits there, and so many other culture jumps, I feel like the experience of shock is nearly unreachable, now. It’s nice to be comfortable taking advantage of the privilege I have to roam so freely, and maybe that comfort enables me to get more out of it all. Nonetheless, I have a vague sense of nostalgia for when leaving home was not just fun but a thrill.