Yak Yak | Yak of the week

It’s hard to say goodbye to someone who doesn’t know I exist, someone who has made such an impact on my life yet doesn’t care one way or another whether I was there. Someone who has pushed me along my journey, led the way through uncertainty, made me smile when I was sad, introduced me to some of the people I love most and carried me home so many times. What do I say to that person when it’s my last chance to be with her, if not forever then at the very least for a long while? How do I express my gratitude when she rushes by me, going about her daily routine, being the force of nature that I know her as? How can I get her to understand all that she has done for me and all that she means to me?

I had my last conversation with Mother Mekong yesterday afternoon. Standing knee deep in her frigid, rushing waters, I was lost. She was my guiding force for so long, paving the way for me in these overwhelming, emotianally exhausting lands. She helped me keep my feet on the ground, in her waters. I didn’t know how to part ways with her. I couldn’t simply turn my back on her after all she had done for me. I had to take her with me, one way or another. I needed a reminder of the lessons that she and the people along her banks taught me these last few months. I wanted to keep her churning waters within me, in my heart and mind, even when we are a world apart. I pulled my hair out of its ponytail and plunged my head into the current. What better way to encapsulate the lessons she taught me than by bathing my mind in her one more time? “‘If there is magic in this world, it is in water,’” Marguerite said to us on the banks as the group spent a few last minutes remembering our mother river together. In that one moment, my head engulfed in the frigidity, I soaked up the magic. I sent every thought I had to the river, thanking her and letting her know I would never forget every moment I shared with her. How grateful I am for her, and how I will forever fight to protect her. To protect my river. But she is not my river. She protected me throughout my journey, looked after me as a mother does, pushed me through challenges like only a mother can. She carried me through as no one else could. I am hers, and forever will be.

“To stick your hands into the river is to feel the cords that bind the earth together in one piece.”
-Barry Lopez

Near the beginning of the course, I had the idea to write little notes to my future self and compile them into a yak the day before I go home. I´m glad I´ve kept it up all this time because now as I read over them I realize it´s a great way of not only remembering all that I´ve done but of holding myself accountable for everything I want to do in the future. I want to say first though that it has truly been an adventure here and that I will always owe some of the best parts of my character to Dragons and the experiences they have given me. Thank you to Dragons and everyone who has made my gap year all that it has been. I couldn´t ask for anything more.
Sincerely,
Maddie Shankle

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Dear Maddie on May 11th,
It´s Maddie on February 9th. I hope you are happy and healthy and well and had a great time on this new adventure! I´m a little nervous right now, but I hope you/I made the most of this second semester of Dragons.
Sincerely,
Maddie on February 9th.

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I´m in the Cordillera de los Frailles right now, and it is beautiful! It rains every afternoon but that only adds to the beauty of the villages, fields, rocks, trees, and streams surrounding me. Go camping more when you get home.
Sincerely,
Maddie on February 17th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I went to work with a 12-year-old in Potosi today and helped her sell everything from toilet paper to matches. Are you going to have a job when you get home?
Sincerely,
Maddie on February 23rd

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
Did any sunrise you saw on the whole trip beat the one I saw tonight on the Solar? This one was reflected in the water sitting on top of the salt, and I don´t think I will see anything like it ever again.
Sincerely,
Maddie on February 26th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I am now settled in my homestay in Tiquipaya, and I hope you can find saltenas somewhere back in the States! I tried my first one off a vender in the street today, and they are DELICIOUS.
Sincerely,
Maddie on March 3rd

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
First Spanish class today! Let`s see how it compares to French. I wonder how much you still remember two months from now.
Sincerely,
Maddie on March 4th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
Jim Schultz, founder and director of a political action organization called the Democracy Center, talked to us today about climate change and dubbed us "Generation Screwed". But, he also called the task before us (fixing climate change) one of the "most noble and urgent calls" a generation has ever been called to! That exited me. Are you still inspired, or do you feel daunted? I hope you don´t!
Sincerely,
Maddie on March 20th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
Remember when you had a full conversation with your taxi driver in Spanish? His name was Jose, he´s 20, and he´s studying electromagnetism … or something. I hope you haven´t forgotten him, or any of the Spanish you´ve learned.
Sincerely,
Maddie on March 26th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I left homestay today! Keep in touch with these wonderful people, and maybe even get an exchange student of your own when you get home. Cook for them and help them learn English and show them Nashville! It would be fun.
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 3rd

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I´ve been in the Amazon river basin now, and I thought of how it could soon be all gone. Being on ground zero of deforestation is powerful. Look into and support some environmental organizations when you get home.
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 15th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I just finished a homestay unlike any other I´ve done before – with a small village in the Amazon! The people live so simply there, so differently than me, but they don´t seem so different. They have work to do, like me, and lots to eat, like me, and families to take care of, like me. You and I are so lucky to have had this experience!
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 19th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I just finished a 20 hour bus ride to La Paz. Never complain again about the 8 hour drive to the beach!
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 21st

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I´m in Cusco now, and I spent my day touring the city´s colonial churches (most of which rested upon Incan foundations) – so cool! You should look into Nashville´s history some more when you get home.
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 23rd

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
I´m in the middle of another amazing homestay in Nacion Q´eros, an old old community that traces its lineage back to Incan royalty. The people live in long flat houses made of stone and eat mostly potatoes. Tell everyone at home how differently some people live in this world. And how normal that is, too. I don´t feel like these people are all that different than me.
Sincerely,
Maddie on April 30th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
Come back to Machu Picchu with Dad! It´s amazing, and it would be so much fun to trek there together. Go on the Choque Quirao trek – you get to pass lots of ruins and there are less people.
Sincerely,
Maddie on May 4th

Dear Maddie on May 11th,
It´s my last day of transference and my second to last day of this course as a whole. It has been a blast! I´ve trekked in amazing places and have been invited into communities few gringos are lucky enough to see. I´ve made friends and found role models in my travel companions. I´ve changed, probably more than I realize. If anything is certain, though, it´s that coming on this course was a good decision. Thanks for being brave enough to jump right in.
See you tomorrow and good luck with the transition home,
Maddie on May 10th

Namaste!

We have all safely returned to Kathmandu after an extraordinary 17 day trek through the Tsum Valley.  Everyone is in good health and high spirits, even after the long bus ride back to Kathmandu today.  

Our time in Nepal is quickly drawing to a close and we will spend the next few days celebrating our time here as we also look ahead to the journey home.  

Best Wishes from all of us,

Adrian, Sweta and Claire

Since coming to Bandong Village, everything has become clearer. The day of our arrival, my lungs gulped in waves of the crisp mountain air, cleansing every passage in my chest and filling my head with the smell of pine and tea leaves drying in the breeze. After my roommates and I settled into our small farm house atop one of the many hills that compose this village, we joined a few others on the roof of our pig pen to watch the setting sun smudge pinks, oranges, and purples across the faded blue sky above us. The view from this concrete slab reaches far beyond the village below, and grabs at the surrounding mountains like a greedy child reaching hungrily past the sprawling peaks, all the way to the edges of Tibet. On our third day in the village, we ventured down to once again join our Mother Mekong, which is not even visible from where our homes sit proudly above the clouds. The water was stunning, and clearer than I’ve ever seen in throughout our three months here in Southeast Asia. The strong current tugged at its smooth surface, sending rapid ripples of transparent blue across the hundreds of colored stones that covered the earthy soil. I can’t help thinking that this fresh mountain air and glossy, halcyon water of our Mekong have together cleared my mind as well. When Marguerite prompted us to reflect on those we’ve met along our journey on the Mekong and what they have taught us in our time with them, I noticed how focused and sharp my thoughts were; it was so easy for me to access my memories of those we’ve met – Mara, Som, my Laos host mother, and the myriad others who have taught me so many lessons. Placing my leaf in the water, symbolizing my many thanks to those who’ve changed my life in the past three months, I could hear my thoughts echoing off the sleek surface of water pulsing around my ankles. Thank you for showing me how to love with more of myself. Thank you for welcoming me, and treating me as one of your own. Thank you for showing me how to live with joy, and to spread that joy to others. Thank you for teaching me to never be frugal with love or kindness, for it is never limited.

In present time, conflict is everywhere. Pick up a newspaper, turn on the radio or tv and you will immediately be bombarded by stories of war, poverty, corruption, and hate. At home in quaint Ann Arbor, Michigan serious conflict arises mostly over University of Michigan sports. At home, all I have to do to retreat into complete comfort is turn off the radio and let the newspaper grow soggy at the end of my driveway. It’s easy for me to forget about the daunting issues that humankind is facing.

In India I have no bubble; I can’t hide. I take a walk and mothers press their children at me, clamoring for money (which may end up going mostly to the man who I saw dropping this woman and others off at a designated begging location that morning). I spend time with my host father and brother and we end up discussing arranged marriages and the rise of divorce in the Western world. We hear a lecture on Islam which leads us into a discussion about religious tensions between the Hindu and Muslim populations in Varanasi. I cannot get through the day without at least one gut-wrenching experience of confusion, anger, or uncertainty.