The First Days

Crossing the legs was easy. Using the fingers wasn't.

This post mostly records the jet lag Santiago suffered from.

He slept through most of the car ride home. He slept the most of Friday. Stayed awake the night. And had to go through 2 full days of AFS orientation orientation over the weekend.

On Friday night though, we covered some questions he had to ask us.

What struck me through these couple of days was the gentle and courteous manners of the boy. He was polite almost to a fault, had a nice sense of humour and cared for others.

When I dropped him off at the orientation, there was an instinctive urge to check if he'll be alright. Many times, I wanted to call someone and see if he was ok. Joan kept worrying as well. Tcha... how stupid, he's come alone all the way from Madrid and has done a few canoeing camps already - what can an Indian guest house do to him?

And when we went to pick him up again on Sunday evening, Amrit and I were surprised to see two full families there welcoming their daughters. So, we were a bit outnumbered. It was nice to see the other two families embracing their daughters - one had brought some welcome pastries. Our boy was the only one to have already met the host family.

Dosa + butter sauce = Ghee Roast

It was nice to have him join us in the family prayer time, kneeling beside us. Missed Anu much! (She was having a rollicking time in London, with Kate in labour.)

We were told the children could sleep the next couple of days and think of school from Wednesday. That's welcoming! For any student.

So he slept.

The Waiting. And the Planning.

He was  to have left on the 2nd. Then on the 4th. Oh no, on the 12th. And finally the 18th of July.

Anxious as we were, it must have been far more intense for this 16 year old personification of calm and quiet. The disappointment was entirely unhidden when he wrote to us three days before the twelfth. He had packed it all up and sitting on his suitcase when the news came that the visa had still not materialized. We heard here that the Indian embassy wanted more papers from the school, Bhavan’s.

Meanwhile, this delay gave us some slack in getting ready.

The house had been long due for some basic renovation. Of the floors and the walls and the fittings. Tiles had chipped off. Walls were wavy. Lamps were an eyesore. It was as if they were all waiting for something big to happen. Will it be the apartment’s 10^th anniversary? No. Should it be the next Christmas? Mmm…may be. Or, can it hold till Anu’s wedding. That’s big!

Then Santiago happened. As if a stork dropped him on its way to the south pole from Spain. And it happened in typical AFS abruptness. The first mail was subjected as “Thank you very much Hosting Santiago Roca Herlihy_YPscNH13”. Brilliant! It went on  to proclaim, “We are happy to know that you have selected Santiago Roca Herlihy from Spain, as your host son.” Oh, really?! When, dear, when did we do that? Hey, we are just happy you gave us Santiago, make no mistake, but for a BSF-Family this AFS was a bit of a shock – especially on something of such great import.

That was big! Big enough to press the renovate button.

And life went all topsy turvy suddenly. Living out of loved ones’ homes, lugging tiles from showroom to living room, summer rain drenched shamiana plans, skipping Sundays, sitting on showpiece closets, skimming through curtain options… life hadn’t been so messy ever. Never. For the first time we thanked the builder for delivering the apartment in such shape in 2000 – we could never ever have built a house ourselves!

When Anu came back from a month-long mission tour she had no place to rest her head. I wore the same pair of socks for three days. Didn’t shave from a Friday to a Monday. And took off that Monday.

All so that we can present a good Indian face to a new son! Yes, home is about both first impressions and self-expression.

The house was ready on the 4^th. And on the 7^th. And then finally on the 9^th. Yeah, now we were an AFS family!

It was done. So, what do we do till the big looking, slow speaking, English teaching son arrives?

Plan.

Plan for the welcome.

We would’ve otherwise dashed to the airport, bundled him up in to the backseat and brought him back. Now, we have all the time to plan for something out-of-the-box.

Red and yellow for the Spanish fellow.

Originally, we said we’ll make a four-part placard. SA-NT-IA-GO. One for each one of us. Then Anu left to the UK on the 11^th July. Reducing us to just three little Indians. And we needed someone to click the pics. So, two little Indians. That got us a split placard in the Spanish flag colours. A3 prints mounted on card board and cut out. He can’t miss us, can he?

Then we said what will we wear? Sari and kurta? Why not some special commemorative tees. I quickly got my colleagues to design a 3-piece set and got that printed overnight.

The garland matched his hair colour!

And Saroj Sharma, AFS wanted a traditional welcome! Indian traditions are as not our specialty at home. So we settled for a garland.

We also informed our workplaces that we were taking the 19^th off. And Amrit was foreseeing one of those unforeseen circumstances that keep him away from school. We basically bunked work and school.

As we set off to the airport, we were tracking the flight on the FlightAware app. 20 minutes late, it said. We reached in good time. And waited – like a bunch of event promoters in uniform – for a yellow t-shirt with AFS logo.

Out sauntered a slim, tired teeny bopper in blue shirt and grey jacket. As his eyes scanned the crowd they caught the bobbing yellow boards that said SANT and IAGO. And he broke in to a suppressed shy smile of recognition and relief.

Hands shaken. Garlanded. Picture taken. Our boy was home!

And it was worth every bit of the waiting and the planning.