Whats next?

I have been home for over two months.

Crazy. Loco. Nunba.

Call it what you like but its STILL surreal to be home.

Ladakh and my experiences there are NEVER far from my mind. They seem to direct the undercurrent of my thoughts, forever changing the way I view the world. I am grateful for my experiences and the way they are shaping my perceptions of the world, opening my eyes to another level of global citizenship and way of living.

However, I am soon to be a senior and I now live back in the "Ocean State" at sea level. My time for 11at11000.blogspot.com is over....and I look forward to continuing at www.wheredoesitallfitin.blogspot.com!

WORLDYATO!

Sooo...I am very delayed, over a week actually, in posting an exciting announcement.....

WorldYato's website is up and running!

Please take some time and explore the website. Browse through our "creations" - profits from any sales will help to fund the artificial glacier in Ursi, Ladakh!

Crayons & "Now-ness" :)

"The secret of health for both mind and body is not to mourn for the past, worry about the future, or anticipate troubles, but to live in the present moment wisely and earnestly."

~ Buddha

My eyes lock with hers and we break into laughter. I don’t know what is so funny and honestly, I don’t really care – what is better then laughter?

We squeal together, not caring who hears us (then again, no one is home). We laugh and laugh and laugh before a short break to breath….and then we keep laughing.

Coloring has never been so fun. I look down at my picture, with its identifiable subject and glance at hers, a beautiful mesh of pink and orange and blue and red and green and brown. There are no shapes, no boundaries, no distinct subject.

And I admit, I am jealous.

How can a two year old out color me?

Sure, my drawing might easily be defined at a “dog” but what’s the fun in that? It’s all outlined in society’s expectations of what a “dog” should look like….it must have ears, eyes, nose, tail, legs. I want something with no previous societal expectations. I want something that is pure randomness yet stands for something in MY mind.

Picking up a crayon in my right hand, my left hand feels empty and bare.

I watch Paige color, absorbed in her own world, and begin to copy her.

Its hard.

Like really hard.

My mind thinks “oh I should make a circle here for an eye” or “maybe I should color in the ear now.” But I stop, turn the paper upside down and draw a squiggle. And then another. And another. And I just keep going.

I am totally captivated by coloring. I am totally captivated by the moment, really.

And I feel the same way I did when I climbed up mountains in India or when I (attempted) to talk to local Ladakhis with a various of hilarious gestures or when I helped Benoy in the SECMOL kitchen or when I would lie by the Indus, staring up at beautifully blue sky.

I felt alive.

I felt in the moment, happy for the sake of happiness, lost in the “now-ness.”

And I am happy to feel it here, knowing that lowering my boundaries might just be the perfect way to feel “now-ness.”

WorldYato Update!!! WootWoot!

A month ago today...

I wandered through Majnu-ka-tilla in Delhi, stopping and talking to the occasional street vendor.

I visited Moya's auntie and uncle, watching and observing the bond of family as they seamlessly extended their welcome to an additional ten people.

I ate at a wonderful restaurant recommended by a ma gala yato (very good friend) and enjoyed zimpo (delicious) paneer dosa in a dozen different forms.

And then, rushing through Delhi traffic, I arrived at the airport and boarded a plane, tearfully saying "Jullay" to the best ache-lay, Kunzes.

And today...

I returned to a million different memories as I poured through my iPhoto searching for just the right photos to be showcased on the new WorldYato website! What better way to reflect than to return to those memories and use them to aid the village of Ursi?

Antonyms yet Synonyms

So here I am, in this crazy technological world sitting on a bus going to visit friends in Vermont AND I have wifi…while flying down the highway at 60 mph! A million and one thoughts are flying through my head – last time I was on a bus was in Ladakh, our last fieldtrip and we had a massively nunba (crazy) dance party. It is certainly a stark contrast to the quiet coach I am sitting on now, the hum of the engine and my fingers tapping on the computer keys the only noise that fills the air. There is no loud music, no base reverberating, no bumps, no dust, no mountains. I am in Boston still, surrounded by tall sky scrappers and big highways, paved of course. The ride is smooth, the seats are comfy (they even have seatbelts!)

I read a blog post by Maggie Doyne (a women who constantly inspires me as she works in Nepal to help local children – visit her blog/website www.blinknow.org!) recently about the amazing idea of having so many different cultures, landscapes, technologies all hosted on this small planet called Earth. I am beginning to realize that, yes, earth is covered in a million different communities (human and non-human). And part of my incredible experience of traveling and living in the Himalayas of India is to become exposed to another community but to also face the challenge of understanding the interconnectedness of the world.

How does the village Ursi, which will forever hold a special place in my heart, relate to the town of East Greenwich? They are just under ten thousand miles apart yet they seem to be separated by a million miles while simultaneously being next door neighbors. Ladakhis and “EGpas” have a completely different sense of time, of ownership, of materialism. I feel torn between the two – wanting the “best of both worlds” (yes, I did just quote Miley Cyrus).

Funks

I am in a funk.

I am stuck in the spot between reality and imagination.

I want so badly to be back in Ladakh, surrounded by SECMOLpas in the kitchen or sitting down by my favorite spot on the Indus river or lying on the roof in my sleeping bag, wishing upon shooting stars.

My realistic self wants me to move on, knowing that I won't be back for several, if not many, years. It keeps nagging me to be thankful for the experiences I had, the sights I saw, the friends I made. Most of the time it wins, Ladakh crossing my mind constantly, at every corner, but never lingering.

Today, though, its lingering. My thoughts are filled of Ladakh, of SECMOLpas, of VISpas. I have a deep yearning, deep, deep, deep, to be there right now, this very minute. I want to be liberated of social norms for an American teenager, I want to be liberated of technology, of constantly planning for the future. I want to just be.

I want to always have someone to talk to, no matter the time of day or topic. I want to learn Ladakhi from SECMOLpas, and laugh loudly at my constant mispronunctions. I want to relax with my VISpas, doing nothing in particular other then just being together.

But that is my wants, my imagination, my past. That is it. These are the moments of my past. And so my realistic self is right, when it nags at me to move on and live in this moment. To explore on my own and find a balance here. And it's hard. I am not fully ready to move on but I hate feeling this way - like I can't think clearly, like I am suddenly alone and alienated. Especially because I know that none of that is true....but I guess that is why I am in a funk.

Grrrrrrr!

Re-re-adjusting

I have been home one week. Weird.

I never thought that leaving Ladakh and my fellow VISpas would be so hard. I never imagined that "reentering" American society would feel so strange. And I never thought I would miss all of it so much!

The first few days back were really, really hard. After living with a group of nine friends for almost four months I felt so alone. It was so quiet and I didn't always have someone to talk to. Lying in bed the first night back, overwhelmed and jetlagged, I was so confused. It seemed like everything back in little ole RI had changed SO much and yet it all felt way too familiar. I know, in reality, I am the one who has changed but still....its strange.

I feel like everywhere I go I see someone I know. It is nice to see familiar faces. However I am always asked, not very suprisngly, "How was India?!"

And simply, I do not really know how to answer other then "Amazing" or "Incredible." I feel as if I should have some funny or crazy tale to tell but I don't. I think I am still processing it all, trying to reassure myself it was all real and not a dream. It is so hard to summerize my three and half months abroad into such a short time - I feel like I could ramble on and on about my experiences and yet when the time comes, I have nothing to say! Grrrr!

I am not quite over the shock of all the technology we have in America yet. I was making some hot water today....and all I had to do was turn a knob! No fighting with the propane stove and the lighter or working to balance the uneven pot over the flames. It seemed sort of...boring. While the water heated I sat at the counter, reading news online and thinking about the SECMOL kitchen. There I would be talking to Benoy and other students as the water boiled, probably helping to cut up some vegetable or sort through rice or stirring tea. It's just different.

Last post from India

Wow! How in the world has it come so quickly that today is my last day in India?

I remember starting this blog, unsure if anyone would ever read it or even 100% sure that I was going on the trip! And now, today is my last day in India. Tonight, at 10 pm Indian time I will be boarding a sixteen hour flight to arrive "home."

I never realized how hard it would be to leave. I guess its kind of true that, unfortunately, you never REALLY understand how much you have until you have to leave it. The last day at SECMOL was amazing. The sun was shining, the sky was blue, the trees were turning green - it was a normal day at SECMOL. I helped Benoy in the kitchen, cutting and chopping, trying not to think about saying goodbye. At night, during our big going away cermony it hit me (sort of) that I was leaving this place. And it was then that I realized somewhere along the way I had aquired a new home, a new family. Through my tears when hugging Chusket, a SECMOL girl, I realized there is no way I can't NOT return to Ladakh. When our taxis pulled away Tuesday morning from campus I reassured myself "One day I will be back."

Possible last blog post from Leh

OMG! Where has the last three months gone? In one week I will be arriving at the NY airport....crazy!!!! Today is my last day in Leh, which means the last blog post from Ladakh! And I dont even have a prepared blog post - just got back to SECMOL yesterday.

I have been super busy here - presenting my exhibition project, finishing my junior year (sort of - I still have to pass precalc and latin), crossing a 17,000 foot pass, staying with an awesome family for a week, attending an archery festival, sleeping up in a fort, celebrating Kylie's birthday.....its been a pretty good few weeks.

We just found out that the our travels home may take an interesting turn. Currently 2/3 of IndiaAir, the major airplane company that we need to fly from Leh to Delhi, is on strike. SO please send us good luck so that we can fly to Delhi otherwise we will be taking a 45 hour bus ride to Delhi....GAHHH :( And Delhi is a little....tense....right now with some threats from Pakistan. Life is never boring here :) Or really ever if you think about it :)

LOVE FROM LADAKH (for one last time),

Taylor

Living in Every Moment, Thankful for Every One

Its been a year. I can't believe that she has been gone a year already. I feel like yesterday I was riding and Lisa was right there with me, teaching in her perfect quiet ways, both while riding and on the ground. I miss her so much.

I've learned that it is okay to cry, to be sad, to reflect back on those memories. It makes me sad but also all the more appreciative of having her in my life. I owe Lisa so much - for giving me the courage of coming on this trip and really embracing every moment, especially in the last 3 1/2 months. I think of her quote often about loving every day here in Ladakh because I can see clearly what she means. It is hard for me not to embrace every moment here, to be so grateful that I am on this trip. I hope desperately that I will be able to continue that when I get home.

I remember that night so clearly in my head, completely blinded by doing anything but looking through the hundreds of photos I had taken of her in previous days. I could barely see the screen through my tears at some points, reliving moment after moment with her. I was in such a shock that she gone and I think that in many ways I still am.

Earlier this year (maybe fall, maybe summer?) I saw a white truck pull in and without thinking for a moment I thought "oh Lisa is back! I should go say hi." But by the time I had walked into the barn I was back in reality, crushed again by the everlasting shock of her absence. It hurt me even more to see Danilo in the aisle, staring at the truck, a smile on his face. It took a second before I saw the….sadness, shock, realization of reality cross his face as well. I know that I am not the only one still struggling and that comforts me. I have a barn family that is strong, we are family so we have our ups and downs but we all are there to support each other. And for that, I am infinitely grateful.

.

Family....

I have found that family, not just the biological sort, is more important then anything else. I am so lucky to have so many people to fall back on - either at the barn, school, Maine, and now the VIS group. It makes it a little easier that I can call anyone of those people and know that they will be there no matter what. And it makes me feel good to know that when something happens I will be there for them, no matter what.

I will always remember the day my mom fell, the shock that I felt yet again and the intense worry. Taking a shower that night, hoping to cleanse myself of the day's horrors, I found myself collapsed on the ground, hysterically crying. That was the first time I felt alone, only a little alone but still alone. i knew that as soon as I left the shower I could text friends for comfort but in that moment my fear and confusion was all I could focus on. I couldn't grasp the immensity of the fall and I don't know that I will ever understand all the "what ifs" or how the ultimate outcome was so incredibly lucky.

Eventually I pulled myself off the shower floor and put myself together just enough to run up to my room. Lying in bed, my iPod attempting to lull me to sleep, I fell back into hysterics, seeing just clearly enough to grasp my phone. Unnerved by my mom's halo and its boxy contraption that didn't condone hugs I texted my friends my worries, my frantic thoughts. I will always remembers Rachael's text back to me, "Think about how good that hug will feel when she can finally hug you again." I repeated that again and again in the coming months, as I hoped desperately that it would come off before I left for India.

And let me tell you, that hug in January, almost 31/2 months later felt AMAZING! It was still a little bulky with the neck collar but it was the hug that I had been waiting for. And now, I cannot wait to hug her again in the airport, with NO collar on!

I am so thankful for all the networks that I have to fall back on. I will be forever grateful for all of my family's friends that helped in the days after my mom's fall. For all my parents' friends who drove us around, cooked us dinner, constantly called or emailed to checked in or even sent flowers. My friends - the best in the world - comforted me, always ready for hug, looking for the next update. There attempts at distracting me, taking me out dinner or a soccer game, might not have worked but I am so thankful that they were there.

And so for these reasons I cannot wait to go home - to hug my mom again, see friends, talk to my family in the same room (not over Skype). But in so many ways I feel like I have family here - my home stay families in Ursi or Shey or the SECMOLpas who are some of my new best friends. I am learning that family is not biological but also located across the world. I might not be able to lean on my Ladakhi family when I am at home but I know that when I come back to Ladakh (which I will) I will always be greeted with open arms.


I began reflecting on community and support because it is such a part of life here. In America we have so much to learn about bigger communities and networks - more then my friends and family friends but about the community of E.G. or R.I. or even all of America. We can accomplish so much when united - I have seen it happen most in times of sadness or tragedy but why can't we apply it to "good" events too? Why can't we support each other and help the environment, education, or other countries? There is no reason why we can't.

Eye Opening

I walk into the hall which is already crowded with four hundred students dressed in red and blue uniforms. My eyes are slow to adjust to the darkness, making the large room feel immense. I don't recognize the sticks right away. I settle into my seat, whisper "Jullay" to the young boys in front of me and pull out my camera, ready to begin my first fieldwork.

Part of the VIS experience is to complete an independent study, or exhibition project, which includes a research paper, field work and a presentation. I have chosen to study education in Ladakhi, comparing the government schools to SECMOL, the school I have been staying at for the past three months. There are so many variables involved in education here, ranging from language to teaching methods to displine to self confidence. My first fieldwork is at Lamdong, a private school hosting almost 2,000 students. Today some of the older students are debating the pros and cons of science in Hindi, one of the four languages they are taught.

My eyes are drawn to the stage, where ten students sit, poised with confidence. Above hangs a banner declaring "World Health: Hindi Debate." I listen intently, not able to understand anything, but impressed by the ability of these students to think quickly on their feet. Occasionally Detchen, a science teacher/friend, whispers in my ear, roughly translating the discussion.

Suddenly my attention is pulled away from the stage and down to my feet, at the young boy leaning on my backpack. A man in blue is walking towards him and the boy is covering his face, leaning over and trying to hide. I am unsure of what just happened, maybe that he had been talking to his friend but I was too absorbed to notice. Now the boy is crying "No! No! No! Don't take me, take him!" as he points to his friend. Clearly he knew what was going to happen, while I sit in shock.

The man comes up and gave him several swift kicks before grabbing his arm, pulling the boy down the aisle even though he is still sitting. Reaching the front of the rows the disciplinarian points to a seat, dictating that the boy must go there. The boy does not move quickly enough so the older man slaps him across the face several times before practically throwing him into the spot.

Caroline and I are in shock, completely taken off guard. Suddenly the poised students on the stage are not interesting enough to hold my attention and my eyes sweep the room. Once, twice, three, times I see similar events. I can't even catch every time as they occurr across the room. It varies depending on the disciplinarian - sometimes the student is dragged down the aisle, other times hit with the wooden sticks, sometimes just slapped by a hand or maybe their ear is twisted until the student is almost screaming.

You can see a short video on my Facebook page at:

http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1830836503720&comments&set=t.1624605998&type=1

Reflection from Stay in Ursi

It is really true that life hits you when you least expect it. I should have expected something unexpected soon - the last year and half has proven to me that life never stops and always hit hardest in the random moments of time. While watching the big India versus Pakistan cricket game the school teacher in Ursi told me that my amalay (mother - Ladakhi host mom), the one who constantly smiles and cares for my noon (little brother) in a way that reminds me so much of home, lost her older brother in a car accident. At fourish that afternoon. On a road we trekked on the day before. Less then seven kilometers away. And she hadn't been told yet.

My brain does not need to even think before it recalls what the shock of such a sudden event feels like. It is not hard to remember the exact moments, the pinpoints in my life, were my view totally changed. That sunny spring morning that was suppose to be another peaceful friday on spring break before a phone call shattered the day with unavoidable news. Or reaching the front of the school and seeing our black truck, doors wide open and my dad sprinting towards me. And, over December break, during the car ride to New Year's eve dinner, the text from a friend that made me ache in sympathy.

I know I cannot run away from any of these memories, that they will be etched in my brain forever. I only wish I could somehow protect all those I love and meet, like my amalay, who so innocently prepared dinner and placed her children in bed. But i know that it is humanly impossible and unfair to shield my loved ones from harm's way.

Love from Ladakh,

Taylor

LONGGG Update

I'm stuck again, unable to decide what words can possibly summarize my past few weeks. And yes, it was an incredibly awesome few weeks.

Our first day of the trip was a long car ride to town called Lamuru. So many amazing little events added up that I think it easily makes my top five favorite days in India. Lamuru is a semi large village (in Ladakhi standards) with a famous monastery. I was able to explore in that perfect time of the afternoon when the sun is still strong and lights up everything in its path in this beautiful glow. Exploring the monastery with this light was breathtaking, every corner revealing another beautiful niche.

Finally I met up with Simone and we decided to hike up a small hill where a gimp sat decorated with prayer flags. Our path was small, carved into the hill. Suddenly some goats and sheep appeared up above, heading straight at us. We were both excited, hoping to get close enough to pet them. However, soon more and more appeared until at least two hundred were staring down at us. We were in a deadlock. Simone and I were afraid to move through them in fear of the narrow ledge. They were afraid to move because they didn't trust us. Both sides sized each other up before the animals decided it was safe enough to crowd around us. Beneath the evening sun we stood still, laughing at our predicament as sheep and goats poured around us, some even scampering up the side of the mountain to avoid us. It. was. awesome.

At the top of the hill we were rewarded with a beautiful sunset, a breeze keeping the hundreds of prayer flags flapping. This is why I love India. I feel so completely free and open to each and every moment here. I have grown accustomed to never knowing what will happen in the next hour, day or week. I think I am almost dreading that when I get home - falling back into the same monotonous routine. I am afraid to leave behind this lifestyle where I live completely (well, almost completely) in the moment. Sure I have school here and I am certainly in that end-of-quarter crunch mode, but I still feel so free! Anytime I need a break, I walk to the kitchen for tea. Mountains, who have sort of become my friends, loom over the Indus. I just need one glance to look at their huge peaks to remember "I am in fricken India" and a smile spreads over my face, the stress of the latest school project disappearing. Granted, it is harder to escape from school projects since the classroom is right below my bedroom, but…..its different.

We spent the week in Urtsi, a small village on the outskirts of the Zanskar range. Rigzin, a community member and former SECMOL student, is determined to make Urtsi into a "model village" through increased cultural preservation and self sustainability. When the floods in August hit, leaving a trail of devastation, houses and fields were damaged and the community center was also demolished. VIS worked throughout the fall to raise money to help Ladakhis, and Urtsi was chosen to receive some of the donations. Rigzin also specializes in passive solar energy building methods, allowing the village to become an even further model in its efforts to rebuild the community center while make it energy efficient.

Ironically, the village is also facing water shortages despite the recent floods. A potential solution to the increasingly alarming problem is an artificial glacier. Invented by Chewang Norphel, they use simple materials to divert spring water and let it freeze over the winter. During the spring and summer it slowly melts, releasing water when villagers need it most for crops. Urtsi has a potential location and the spring water to create an artificial glacier, but they don't have the money.

Surrounded by such inspiring work, it is hard not to feel energized in such a close tight community. Every night, when my Amalay feed my nono, nomo and myself, I couldn't help but wonder about their future. Most villagers have lived in the village their entire life - a shortage of water has the potential to alter the village's location for future generations. I was not alone in my concern for my new family - Moya soon confessed her growing urge to help. Unwilling to sit by and doing nothing, we sat down on a cliff of mud, brought by the floods, overlooking the village. In the late afternoon, the sun warming our backs, WorldYato was created.

Yato is the Ladakhi word that means both friend and help, a perfect summary for our intentions. It also is an acronym, standing for "Youth All Together as One." Although there is not much we can do while in Ladakh, with our limited abilities to access the internet, we are planning multiple fundraisers for the future. John Mingle, a past VIS teacher and coordinator between Ursipas and VISpas. predicts that the glacier will cost approximately $8,000. Ideally, Rigzin, the mastermind behind the plan (again), would like to start a preliminary process by mid-August. So…although nothing is set up yet for fundraising, I want to share about this village and its need for outside help.

Change of Plans!!!

Typical India Style plans changed again and I am sure they will change again!

Unfortunately, despite living in a high altitude desert and not seeing a drop of snow/rain, mother nature decided to throw a snow storm party this weekend! Reaching Nubra via the world’s highest road in a snow storm is...impossible. So, I was able to watch an amazing Buddhist festival full of traditional dances, outfits and songs. All of SECMOL and VIS came and it was really nice to have the SECMOLpas there to give a personal guide of the monastery and explanation of the different steps of the festival.

The change of plans means a "normal" week of school - whatever that means! We always have surprise fieldtrips and guest speakers so it is still exciting. This weekend we leave for Urtse for flood relief work - I am SO excited!

Here is my latest essay for English class:

Smiling is my drug of choice. I feel ridiculous, foolish, and completely idiotic but I cannot wipe the grin off of my face. And the more I think about how ridiculous I look the more I smile, bigger and wider. I cannot help it, I do not know that I could eschew if I tried but I certainly do not want to stop. American music blasts in my ears, Hindi music thrums in the background, the base reverberating through the bus. I’m tired yet energized. Poor Alana sits next to me; a victim of my attempts at silent lip singing and crazy head bobs. Eventually I give up and my shoulders move back and forth, unable to restrain this crazy energy that is flying through me.

It’s a typical Indian bus with ripped seats and a sort of strange fabric that makes you think twice about putting too much skin up against it. It’s also a typical Ladakhi bus with the Dali Lama’s photo taped above the windshield, prayer wheels dangling from the unused rearview mirror. And of course it’s a typical Indian and Ladakhi journey, a thrilling amusement ride that require complete trust in the driver. My original fear when I see another car coming straight at our bus has been replaced with humor as I now understand road rules are non existent which results in a heightened game of American chicken. With trust in place and fear left back behind me, I only smile wider.

Army camps line the road, a subtle reminder that Ladakh is wedged between Pakistan and China with some of the most controversial boarder lines in the world. Wild dogs are everywhere, my biggest fear at night with their ever-growing confidence. Typical to any desert there are no trees, no lakes, no life to block my view across the vast valley. Occasionally our route takes us along side the Indus, it’s ice slowly melting before rushing downstream. Next to its bank lie the few sparse seabuckthorn bushes, a resource used so ingeniously by locals. Around the steep bends I can see straight ahead “my” mountain. Although it looks like a little sibling compared to the rest, I love knowing that my “home” lies at its feet. SECMOL school, an incredible foundation working to help increase education rates in Ladakh, is my base for my semester abroad.

Hindi music thrum, which I can shockingly recognize after a seemingly short month and half here, competes with chatter. My fellow VISpas, the nickname for students that are on the same trip as me, are spread throughout. Some are mingling with the SECMOLpas, students at the school we are studying at, while others are lost in their own world. I stare out window, intensely fascinated by the crystal blue sky, not a cloud to be seen. Such a vibrant blue makes the mountains pop even more than normal, their snow-covered peaks contrasting with the sky. The Stok Range, with its drastic points, is in its prime and I wish desperately I had my camera, normally my constant side kick. But then I sigh and my smile grows ever wider as I think about how lucky I am to have my camera, to be looking at these mountains, to be alive.

For a brief second my smile wavers as I think of the people in Japan, their country destroyed by yesterday’s tsunami. I feel guilty when I think of all the personal reasons I have to be happy – my mom’s recovery from a near fatal accident, my riding team’s first place finish at regionals, my two care packages waiting for me back at the dorm room. And I smile, guilty at first and then genuine as my eyes return to the magnificent mountains. Somehow the mountains are irresistible and melt away my self-doubt. A new song blares over my ear buds and my head starts to nod, unable to resist the music.

Plan for the Next Month

This past week was not “normal” by any means. I spent Sunday and Monday taking care of 2/3s of the fallen VIS students who had succumbed to the tasty fried somosases we ate from a roadside stand. On Tuesday John Mingle talked to us about the direct effects of global warming in Ladakh and the villages he has seen. Yesterday I had Ladakh Then and Now next to the Indus river before listening to an agriculture official discuss the harm of pesticides.

This week we will be meeting with the inventor of the artificial glacier, recently named Indian of the year. We get to pick his brain about the design while actually visiting one of his glaciers.

I know the coming weeks will be even more “unnormal.” First we will cross Kardong La, the highest motorable pass in the world before going to Nubra, as the first tourists allowed ever. There we will attend a special Buddhist festival before returning to SECMOL for a few brief days.

After a few days of trekking to a remote village called Urtse I will be helping with flood relief efforts by building a new community center using passive solar energy. As a science class we will also try to help Urtse by designing and planning an artificial glacier to help combat growing water shortages due to global warming.

When I return in the beginning of April I will begin work on my independent study/exhibition project – possibly working at a Tibetan refugee camp. And that sums up my plans for the next month!

I will try to update everyone as much as possible but it can almost be assured I wont have much Internet access. When I do have access I am sure I will have lots to share and even more stories to tell when I return home.

Conversation

English Conversation is the hardest. I can handle comprehending how mountains formed, analyzing a short story or debating Buddhism but speaking about my own life is the toughest. Back in East Greenwich, half way around the world, I learned how to think, to process, to explain but this is completely different. I sit surrounded by a couple SECMOLpas, all their faces looking earnestly at me. I prepare myself to be honest and clear but each time I worry I will make a mistake.

I am learning the best responses to the easy questions like “I am from the village of East Greenwich.” The word ‘town’ is a foreign idea here and I have abandoned it in the hope that maybe I will seem less foreign too. I try to adapt and leave behind the world I know in America but it isn’t always easy.

Some of the questions like “how do you get water” leave me struggling. I feel so awkward, so strange when I explain that there are metal pipes under the roads that come to my house and then the water comes out of the faucet. And then I scramble to explain that a faucet is “sort of like a machine, sort of like the head of the pump in your village.” A few students understand but the majority look at me like I am an alien and I actually feel weird and confused about the technology we have in America.

By far the hardest questions are the ones directly about my identity. I have been asked about my aim in life, my career and my religion. I attempt to be honest but at the same time I feel pressure to fulfill some hidden expectations. Occasionally I receive smiles when my audience approves of my answer like “being happy” or a “doctor” but my answers only come after several seconds of mulling over the most accurate way to describe something that is so fickle in my mind. I receive the blankest stares when I try to answer the religion question. Wanting so desperately to be honest I normally reply with an “I don’t really know what I believe in yet.” I tack on the “yet” as if to prove that I am trying to find something that I believe in but it is more of a promise to myself then anything else. Rarely satisfied with that answered I have been questioned with a “Well, why?” I have not found an answer to that question either, not one that fulfills my own expectations or satisfies their perplexity.

Often I leave English Conversation questioning my relationship to the world around me. Today it dawned on me, while explaining refrigerators and icemakers, that our American world is so out of touch. While we use lights, cars, plastic bags or heat we are greatly impacting the rest of the real world that survives without any of these materialistic goods. John Mingle, one of our guest speakers, talked in depth about water shortages in Ladakh. One village, which was established over 1,000 years ago, has been forced to move to another site because water has not been able to provide crops. Maybe it is too complex an idea for anyone to fully grasp but I hope that when I return home I will think twice before turning on an extra light or using the water at full force.

SHAM TREK!

First of all I want to send all my best luck around the world to the Heritage IEA team as they compete at regionals. As much as I LOVE it here I still wish I could be there cheering everyone on! Sooo….kick some major butt Heritage girls!

My past week has been even more breath taking and awe inspiring then normal….if that’s even possible! I can officially say that I have completed a six-day, five night trek through the Great Himalayas! SLC or the Snow Leopard Conservancy works with families in villages throughout Ladakh to create home stays, a win-win for both trekkers and villages. As a trekker I received the best care in a traditional home while working along side the family to make meals, look after children and tend to the animals. The families receive an additional form of income but also the support of the Snow Leopard Conservancy in protection of their livestock and changing their perception of the importance of the local wildlife and landscape. Slowly villages are understanding that the snow leopard is an integral part of Ladakh and “revenge killings” are decreasing. To be a part of such a positive cycle is amazing, especially since I know this isn’t my last trek in Ladakh working SLC homestays!

While the East Cost slept Monday I set out with the aim of trekking to Yangtang. Still struggling with the altitude I slowly managed not only to keep up with the rest of the group (they were all struggling too) but also to make it to the village! My first home stay experience was incredible. I cuddled with several beelas (cats) and drank my first cup of chang (traditional barley beer). I practiced the dance of refusal – a true art in Ladakhi culture as hosts love to serve you again and again.

I am finding that hiking so high does not supremely strain my muscles or make me sore but leaves my lungs on fire. Sometimes I feel as if I am sucking in air through a straw and that there will never be enough. Everyone in the group laughs because it is not so much that the passes are that physically challenging – there just isn’t enough air!

I lucked out on day two of the trip by hitching a ride on one of the four ponies to the small town of Ulley. Riding, even on a stocky little pony up an insane hill, never fails to make me smile! I fed the pony a few of my favorite Goodday cookies, missing Bradley a whole lot! L But my host family’s little boy, Tenzen, cheered me up with his “nunba” dancing. Ulley is situated high in the mountains, a small village of only six or seven houses. At night the headlights of a car light up the walls of the mountain. Tenzen was so excited to see a car, a very rare sight, he was dancing and eventually ran outside in the freezing cold to greet the passengers. His excitement made me smile but also question the effects of roads into such remote villages. I also learned how to make chapattis – although I can’t guarantee success if I make them on my own!

Walking from Ulley to Hemis was beautiful! We climbed the second highest pass of the trip and celebrated with a game of Ninja before descending into the village. My host family was an memelay (grandfather) and abelay (grandmother). With their help I learned the best techniques on lighting a dung fire in traditional stoves. It requires a lot of kerosene and a few matches.

Our last hike was paramount to all the other days, albeit the most strenuous with an almost 13,000 pass. Flurries accompanied us the entire way, making most of the trip an absolute white out. At the top of the pass we hung prayer flags and wrote messages on them. Descending was invigorating with a constant stream of snowballs flying overhead. To top of the dayI had the best home stay with a nono (little brother – about 3) and a nomo (little sister – about 5). I hugged a baby lamb for most of the evening, the perfect heating pad while I watched the activities in the busy kitchen. My Memelay sat in the corner, clothed in traditional red wool, constantly spinning a prayer wheel as he chanted “om mani padmi om.” In the morning, after packing, I played with Nomo and Nono drawing nema (sun), khe (dog), khong (house) and Abelay. Before I left I handed Nomo my pencil as a small gift of thanks. Her face lit up like it was Christmas and she rushed to show her Amelay (mom). Something I always took for granted as a child was the seemingly endless supply of art supplies so when my Nomo embraced my small gift with such vigor it made me think twice.

My first home stay family had older children in college. However, when they were at home they had to walk two and half hours to school – on the same route that took us almost two days. While I struggle to breath at this altitude on a trek for pleasure they hiked every day as commitment to their education. To gain education I simply turn the car ignition and drive to school – they physically earned education with a commute of almost five hours a day. I worry that back home I will forget how incredibly lucky I am to access to education with such ease and will slip back into a state of complaint about waking up early or completing home work. I hope that I can at least think twice about my access to education and its quality when I go back to the United States.

Love from Ladakh,

Taylor

Alive and Very Well!

No prepared blog post today since I JUST got back from our trek...well I haven't even really gotten back since I still haven't arrived at SECOML! Tomorrow I am going to try to go to Leh and upload pictures and a new post so be on the lookout!

In few words the trek was amazing....like unbelievably amazing!

Every village was prettier then the next and some of the views....I was looking back at my millions of photos on my camera and I can't believe I was there! And it was only a few days ago!

Although we didn't spot the elusive snow leopard we did spot an ibex! It is sort of like deer/goat but much cooler! The horns are crazy! I have some photos that I can't wait to share!

I sort of promise more tomorrow - it all depends on Leh having power and wifi!

Love from Ladakh,

Taylor

Once again I am at a loss of words to describe this past week. How can I possibly describe dinner at SECMOL, my science class, washing my hair or helping cook breakfast in one blog post when each moment could probably write a paper by itself?

One of my favorite times of the day is right after dinner when announcements and speeches (all in Ladakhi) have commenced. Sometimes the small school shop opens up and I will splurge on a little chocolate for a few cents, its plastic texture making me long for an American dessert. But what I love most is living completely in the moment with the SECMOLpas and just goofing off. D.K. Chosegyen, a boy I don’t know and several VISpas always end up fighting and teasing each other. D.K. and I get into “nunba” or “crazy” fights where we try to call each other the most crazy in our respective languages. It tends to involve a lot of hat stealing, scarf strangling and wrestling on the rugs. I never expected that I would loose myself so completely in a moment – be so focused on just the moment. I expected to question myself, make friends and grow as a person but I never thought I would come half way around the world to be so…childish.

On Thursday we spent the morning summiting our first “Himalayan Peak,” SECMOL mountain. Compared to its surrounding siblings it is a rolling hill, a baby at an estimated 13,000 feet (estimation made by Tashi). Running down the stairs still leaves me out of breath, my body still struggling with the altitude adjustment, so climbing, sometimes crawling upwards, felt insane. But when I reached the top everything is worth it. The 360 views were “nunba” and I could see Kardongla pass, the world’s highest motor able pass, and ____, the snow leopard capital of the world. Prayer flags rippled at the top, mirroring my own excitement. These mountains have been here for an approximate fifty million years (thanks Holly & Environmental Science) and have seen the change. They lie witness to the change of earth, society and life and I am somehow lucky enough to be standing in their presence.

“Home” feels like a million miles away, a distant dream and it sort of scares me and it sort of makes me happy. I am totally okay with having “home” be a dream…. Because what is “home?” Attachment is mentioned so warily in Buddhism (thanks Nate & Ladakh Then and Now) but I still wonder if I am lesser of a person for not having that deep connection to a place, person or idea. I have been asked several times by Ladakhis “What is your religion?” and I feel so estranged when I have no choice to respond, “I don’t know yet.” I have no desire to find some great belief or religion to follow but that scares me at times too. I am glad that I am dependent on myself but am I missing some great part of life? Because, for the most part, I love my life.

Love from Ladakh,

Taylor

I. LOVE. MY. LIFE.

I. LOVE. MY. LIFE.

I can’t believe I am so lucky to come on this trip and meet so many amazing people. SECMOL. Is. Amazing.

I am in complete awe of everything – the landscape, the people, the curriculum, and the monumental amount of energy that seems to surge around this campus. Have you ever said “Jullay?” I think it might be the happiest phrase on earth – what else can you practically sing as a hello, goodbye, thank you and just as a word?

I’m surprising myself in my quest to learn Ladakhi. Taking the time to learn the language is providing me with the satisfaction that I am one less foreigner ignoring the culture. Maybe it is an impractical language to learn since there may be no application back home but I can see it breaking a bridge. Every question I ask, every word I say wrong teaches me, not about the culture, but about the person teaching the language to me.

SECMOL is so forward thinking in many aspects that it is hard to remember reality. During English Conversation tonight (2/13) the topic was education systems. We break into small groups of two or three SECMOLpas to one VISpa and work to learn about each culture and language. Although I knew that beatings occur in schools around the world something changes when you are face to face to students your own age who have previously been in schools where hitting is the norm. SECMOL is a model for its methods of learning, emphasizing traditional culture and education.

Students must take 11^th grade tests – similar to our SATS or ACTS – but its totally different. Becky and I had a very long conversation about the topic because it is so incredibly different. Although the big people at the top who make these 11^th grade tests apparently try to choose questions that will measure the knowledge and understanding of subjects the system is SO corrupt. The “big people” use questions directly from the text book – trying to ensure that topics are covered in school. Teachers teach just to the test – WAY worse then in America. They don’t even teach the subject or even read the book. Instead students must write and rewrite and rewrite the questions and just the answer that will be on the test. Essentially, they go into the test knowing just to recognize the question and the answer – they do not understand the material at all. Becky said that their math portion is similar to ours because you must show work. However, instead of teaching the materiel the teachers find the questions and have the students memorize the steps in between. And guess what? Many students are failing the tests!

SECMOL works to teach the material and create an understanding of the material. Many past SECMOLpas have become teachers and the hope is that they will begin to teach the material and ensure an understanding of the material. When I first started talking to the SECMOLpas I was so confused since a few mentioned that they don’t want to take the tests, they don’t want to go to “school,” they don’t want a higher education. But I am beginning to realize that they really just want to learn. Like learn and really know the material – why else would they be here? I have been amazed at meeting students who have this drive to fulfill this clear passion for learning when so many odds are against them. It’s inspiring.

Currently I am listening to Glee’s “Time of My Life” given to me by my bestie Rae and I feel like I am living the song. So far all of my expectations have been exceeded – I am already dreading the day I leave yet longing to see my family and friends – if only I could have the “best of both words.”

Im in Delhi!

Didn't think I would have time to post again so soon but...here I am!

Still working on the best things to say in my short time with the internet. I've been reunited with my big suitcase (its sort of like Christmas!) after living out of a backpack for the past two weeks as we've traveled around! Now I have the laptop so I can type stuff up and upload photos before I have access to internet which will help a ton!

Mostly this is just a selection of very few of the tons of photos I have taken so far!

Love from Delhi!

Heyyy!

Thanks so much to my dad for posting that to the blog! Im sorry it was soooo poorly written but it is so hard to put all my thoughts into an email when I feel like i have a million and one things to tell! I have sooo many pictures too. Heres a short attempt at explaining today:

We went on a 15 km hike in the foothills today! Boy am I going to be sore! It was sooo incredibly pretty (its so hard to find new words to describe my trip - i feel so limited!). We took a break at one point to visit a school. Many of the children walk 2+ hours to reach it and walk in flip flops. I cannot even imagine...I was struggling while fully outfitted. Its hard to understand life when I am walking for pleasure but they are walking for a better future...
We taught them "Head, shoulders, knees and toes" and then theyj taught us a song - I dont think any of really learned it! But it was really fun!

Later in the hike we ran into an older woman who (I swear) had the best smile lines I have ever seen. She just wanted to shake our hands and give kisses. She LOVED having her pictures taken and even through all her obvious hardships she wanted us to go to her house for tea. Unfortunately we had to keep hiking but I will always remember her face.


Once we reached the little town (about 5/6 hours later) we had lunch and met the sweetest puppy. There are so many amazing things that I love about India yet so many sad, frustrating parts exist. So many beggars, homeless puppies, roaming cows but yet this place is somehow magical! So many contradictions and yet such freedom...

I still have a million more things to say - I don't know how to catch everyone up but I promise to soon! We are leaving to Delhi tomorrow before we fly to Ladahk!!! Yayy! We are all a little nervous about altitude sickness because SECMOL/Leh is about 11,000 feet!

Much Love from India!
Taylor

Update from India

We have done so much that I don’t even know how to put it into words! I have tried to keep a list of activities on my iTouch so I can remember it all and I have been really good about journaling (is that a word?).

Our first night we drove in Delhi, which was one of the most exciting things I've ever done! You have to trust the driver because the roads here are crazy. There are no rules except to get to where you are going. If you lay on the horn you let people you know that you are passing. Despite all the craziness no one gets into accidents! It is sosososo different then driving in the U.S. but its very cool!

After a few hours of sleep in Delhi (we arrived at like 2 am and had to catch a train at 5 am) we had to repack to fit enough stuff for a week and a half in our backpacks! Eeeekkk! I left almost everything at the hotel, which is locked and safe.

That morning we arrived in Haridwar, which is one of the seven holiest places in India because of its location on the Ganges. It was our first taste of India (literally), which had really good food! We also got bombarded with tourists taking photos of us too! We then continued traveling to Rishikish. It is also located on the Ganges. That night we went to a ceremony on the river, which was really cool. We had to cross the river on this really high, kind of scary bridge. I'm really learning that I have to trust that if it works for other people it will also work for me!
The next morning we left and drove up the river to a camp. It was our first experience with high cliffs and the roads. Once again I had to trust the driver and the road - and guess what?! I was fine :) haha

The camp on the river was STUNNING! That night we crossed another bridge to hike to the villages on the other side. It was so cool to see. More on that later (I only have a little more time and sooooo much to say! Gahh). We rafted the next morning, which was super fun! We also got to "fall" in and swim in the Holy Ganges, which is considered really lucky. I did jump off the raft but not for long because the river was pretty gross and nasty. I don’t even want to think about what was in there! Gross!

We are now at the monastery for a few more days. It is so incredibly beautiful here. We have official classes. For English, which is first in the morning, we meet on the library roof and read a book out loud. It’s so cool. We stop occasionally to watch the green parrots that fly around us or just to look at the pretty views or to hear the monks chanting. Our second class is Buddhism, which is taught by the wisest monk. Everyone is in a trance as we hold onto his every word. The entire religion is so interesting and is more of a way of life then anything else....

I reallllllllllllllllly need to go now but I promise to write again sooon! I have sooo much to say and so little time. I can’t wait to have the lapotop so i can type what I need to say before i get to the cafe.