(this is long, but I promise it’s an amusing read)
I had a field visit a couple days that required me to leave at 7am. I had reminded Deepa, my host mom/sister, the day before and along with it, the fact that I wouldn’t need a lunch packed since food is provided at the workshops. Negotiating lunchtime needs is a crucial aspect of my relationship with Deepa; it’s a source of great stress and concern for her wanting to fulfill her responsibility to provide for me, which is only exacerbated by the Jain practice of no excess, meaning meals have to be precisely calculated to ensure there is no food left over.
I left in a last second rush (some things never change) and didn’t say bye to Deep on my way out because she wasn’t in the kitchen and the bedroom door was closed and I didn’t want to disturb her. I wasn’t too concerned about it since field visits seemed rather routine by this point.
About two hours later, I got a call from my program director saying to call home immediately and make my whereabouts known to Deepa, who was very concerned about me and who had also packed my lunch which was waiting for me on the table.
Deep didn’t call back when I flashed her and I didn’t make much further effort since I was a tiny bit exacerbated that she had forgotten, which I didn’t consider to be my problem, and yet she was stressed and very likely angry with me, which I felt was slightly unwarranted.
And I didn’t want to be a part of dealing with the food. In my mind, there was nothing that could be done: it had already been prepared and the fact was established that it would not be eaten, even though I knew there would be a circular and seemingly pointless discussion along the lines of “what am I supposed to do with this food I made you?”
I spent most of the day dreading my return home and bracing myself for the inevitable lecture which I would have to take and nod my head to and apologize for creating a situation I felt I hadn’t entirely created, all while having to see Deep stressed and feeling like it was my fault.
When I got home, Deep didn’t say a word. I collapsed absolutely exhausted on my bed and settled into a nap before dinner, which given how little energy I had at this point, was rather normal.
I woke up 14 hours later. The house was silent.
Normally I’m awoken by being screamed at incessantly to come take chai. There’s nothing I hate more than being yelled at first thing in the morning. The silence was refreshing. But eerie and disturbing. I wandered out to investigate and saw no signs of chai heading my direction while chit chatting with Christine while she took her breakfast.
Perplexed, I went back to my room and got ready.
On my way out, I saw Deep on the phone, talking quickly and not looking happy at all.
Later, on the way to the hospital with my director to have some blood work done, I asked her if she knew if everything was ok with my host family. They’d been unusually distant and quiet the last two days and I couldn’t figure out if I was a part of that or not. I told her what had happened with lunch the day before and my fear that Deep was mad at me. I also told her I wasn’t offered chai that morning, which apparently was the ultimate trigger of concern on my director’s part. (and she was so sweet! She immediately became super concerned about my not having my chai and offered to take me anywhere I wanted to get some lol. I didn’t care about having chai, I cared about not being offered any).
She offered to talk to them, but I told her I wanted to feel things out on my own that evening first and then go from there.
Later that day I was informed that she had called my family to see what was up. Apparently Deep had responded defensively, saying what good care she took of me (she does) and how much she does for me (she does), which was all true but rather irrelevant to the situation. I was concerned the phone call had only made things worse.
When I got home, I found Deep in the kitchen and brought up that I had heard my director had called her. I don’t remember precisely how the conversation went down, but within a few minutes, we were both staring at each other in stunned surprise, on the verge of laughter and not knowing what to say.
I thought she was mad at me. They hadn’t talked to me when I got home, they hadn’t called me for dinner, hadn’t called me for chai, hadn’t spoken to me before I left for work.
She thought I was mad at her! I hadn’t come when they called me for dinner, hadn’t responded when they called me for chai, and had gone in my room when she came out of the kitchen in the morning (which I hadn’t noticed at all) and closed the door (I was getting ready).
Apparently, that 14 hours of sleep was so deep that I hadn’t been awoken by their calls and we both completely misinterpreted each others’ actions since we were both making false assumptions about the others feelings.
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