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<\/a><\/p>\nMutton stew, with green beans, rice, a salad of tomatoes, cucumbers, lemon, apples and bananas. Well, here it is:<\/p>\n
There are no words to say how honored and touched I was to be in their beautiful home eating a meal that was made just for me. I will never forget it.<\/p>\n Pulling away from Kalam’s house and heading back to the office, once again on the back of Dheeraj’s motorbike, there was a shift inside me. It started to sink in that my adventure was winding down now, and that my ‘going home’ was beginning.<\/p>\n Back in my room after dinner, I began packing. I forced myself to be very practical about it. Staring at my Indian kurtas, I swept away the images that I had of washing those kurtas in the blue buckets at KGBV, of the reaction the girls and the cooks had when I first wore one (they were so pleased and approving), of the kurtas drying next to dupattas and pants around the girls hostel. Here are some pictures that remind me of those times:<\/p>\n When I grabbed my karate gi, I forced myself to just consider how it would fit into my backpack, instead of remembering all the girls I had taught and coached in that gi, their beautiful faces, their determination, their laughter and smiles shining brighter than the sun. Again, more images:<\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n<\/a><\/p>\n