I have as many days as I do fingers on my right hand left. (5, in case you were wondering if I was missing or had extra fingers.)
The preparations continue! Excitement is kicking in. So are sleepless nights. Excitement does that to me.
Part of my going to India, for me, meant dying my hair.
You see, once upon a time I went to Mexico to serve in some orphanages. I was quite blonde at the time. I had people, everywhere I went, grabbing me. Touching me. The same thing happened in Spain, only I was slightly older and had more men propositioning me. .
I kind of stick out. I am tall. I have fair skin. I have freckles and blue eyes. You throw blonde hair in the mix and I feel like a walking neon sign, "HEY OVER HERE! I AM A FOREIGNER."
I didn't like the harassment I received. Now, I know that dark hair isn't going to necessarily solve the problem. But it does make me harder to pick out. It makes me feel more secure. (Not to mention, my husband really likes it when I have dark hair. I was a brunette when we first met.)
And so, this is what happened over the weekend:
All that I have left is packing. Oh and some more packing. And some goodbyes. And I feel the need to eat some good food that I won't see in a while. Like a pizza. Yup. time to go get a pizza.