It’s been just two weeks since we left Texas, and our new house feels like home in all the ways home feels.
There are people we recognize when we go for walks. We frequent shops and cafes in our neighborhood. Our flat has, on average, three additional children in it each day after school visiting the dogs and Saira. The watchmen at the university gate nod and say “good morning, ma’am” and don’t ask for my ID anymore. We’re receiving invites for drinks and conversation. We have some semblance of a daily routine. Two newspapers are delivered every morning. Saira has a pediatrician, and the dogs have their favorite vantage points in the apartment.
The logistics of running a house are mostly set, with the additional functions of running a house in India. We have a housekeeper, Anitha. We will soon have a cook. Our food waste and trash are collected every morning, and the milkman delivers milk in plastic bags every day. Our laundry dries on the balcony, and the coolness of the days eliminates the need for AC.
My first week of work was a gentle transition. It was midterm exam time and I had the flexibility to spend time acquainting myself with campus, developing my lectures and workshops to begin this week, finalizing my immigration paperwork, meeting my colleagues and learning about the journalism department.
Instead of having my own courses, I will conduct solutions journalism workshops for all journalism students, as well as providing guest lectures on solutions journalism in other departments. I have the privilege of being here while the department strategizes to build an honors journalism program, and they want to build a solutions journalism course into the curriculum.
I feel professionally enriched after my first week. I’ve loved having the gift of time to thoughtfully read and analyze articles and to build on my existing workshops and lectures. My professional world has slowed down to a speed I’ve never experienced before, and even after just one week, I feel a renewed sense of purpose and a reconnection to my work.
The icing on the cake is that four minutes after I leave my desk, I’m home.
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