Page 29 of The Last Letter of Rachel Ellsworth

Dear Jill,

Finally have a sec to write a letter. Sorry I can’t call, but holy shit are the rates high! I’m barely affording this as it is.

But wowowowowowowowowowowowowowow!! I love India!

It’s a lot, don’t get me wrong, like so many people you can’t even imagine it, not in your wildest dreams, a big concert of humans all around you all the time.

You have to be careful on the trains because men get grabby, but mostly it’s just that you’re kind of smashed up against other bodies and everyone kind of just lives with it.

It’s weird to feel somebody’s soft belly, a baby’s foot (through their mom’s stomach!), a hard elbow. Like so much muchness.

So much muchness. That’s it.

It’s so much in every way, the colors and the smells and the decorations on everything, all over the place.

Semitrucks painted with gods and hung with strings of fake flowers and little murals painted on the doors.

It makes you wonder why people don’t do that in the US.

Like, you have to be in it all the time, so why not make it beautiful?

I started classes, and I’m really happy with them.

With my roommates, and everything. A lot of Brits and a few Americans, but I kinda knew that going in.

I’m having a blast shopping! It’s so cheap to buy certain things—I’ve already bought some dresses and these soft pants.

It’s hot. You have to wear loose clothes, but you really can’t be immodest. Everyone stares.

My roommate, Gina, showed me how to wear a scarf and how to tie these pants.

I feel like a total hippie, but, I mean, that’s where all those styles came from, right?

Boho = India cotton and prints and anklets with bells.

But really, the food is the thing. It’s so great.

So many kinds of things, and all of it is amazing.

I found this café nearby that serves amazing food— bun maska , which is a fluffy roll with filling, and fresh lime soda, and goat biryani (Yes!

Goat! It’s delicious!). I go there so much that one of the daughters saw me on campus and started laughing, calling out my order to me.

Bun maska , lime soda! She’s studying accounting and literature, one for her family business, one for her own interests.

Her brother is here, too, a year older, but I haven’t met him.

I can’t believe I made this happen. I’m so proud of myself. Give mom a kiss.

Love,

Rachel

Dear Jill,

I miss you!! As much as I love all this, it’s hard to be without you and Mom.

Is this thing with Jack serious? Because it kinda sounds like it. I love him, don’t get me wrong, but can you really live with being Jack and Jill for the rest of your lives? Will you name your kids Peter, Peter Pumpkin Eater and Mary, Mary Quite Contrary? HAHAHAHA!

Kidding. He’s a nice guy. I get it. You make a good couple.

Yesterday, I went to the food market with Zoish. Isn’t that a cool name? She’s the girl I met through her family restaurant. We hang out sometimes. She’s so funny and energetic and outgoing. I’ve never been with her when people didn’t come up to chat with her. Super charismatic.

The market is this huge covered space, with all these little alleyways breaking off in a million directions.

I’d be afraid to get lost by myself, but I stayed close, all the while she’s shouting out to this person and that one in a mix of languages, English and Hindi and whatever it is she speaks with her family, which I think is Gujarati?

Urdu? (So many languages here, and the students I meet all speak at least three, sometimes four.

The language of their family, the main language of their area, which might be the same, but might not, plus Hindi or Urdu and English.

I haven’t sorted out the differences yet, but I’m in awe.

I don’t even speak my own language all that well.

How is it that I don’t even speak Spanish?)

Anyway. We’re walking through this market, and it’s really hot, but the shade helps.

They sell all kinds of things there, like a mall, spices and vacuum cleaners and candy and boxes of cereal, and then we came to a big farm market, which is what Zoish was there for.

She haggled and chatted up the vendors, buying carrots and fresh herbs and all kinds of things to take back to the restaurant.

They also get normal deliveries by truck because I’ve seen them there, but her dad likes his veggies fresh.

After the vegetables, she took me to a fabric stall, where her cousin or uncle or some family member showed me all these beautiful fabrics and took my measurements for an outfit.

I got the clothes today, and I felt like a princess when I tried them on.

Easy clothes to wear, a loose dress and leggings.

I can’t wait to show you. I never wore so much pink before, but honestly, it looks really good.

I also have some lime green and a soft orange, though I have to leave yellow alone, still. It just makes me look sick.

School is better. I’m getting into it. Learning a lot, but still learning more outside school, which is kind of how it always is, right?

How’s Mom? How’s Denver? I miss you. Give Mom a kiss.

Love,

Rachel