Yak Yak | Yak of the week

Dear Students,

The time of your departure to Indonesia is drawing near! We hope you are enjoying the time with friends and family and feeling excited for the journey that awaits you.

We are aware that the logistical preparations can seem to engulf your life prior to a big adventure like this. Getting all the last minute things together can be exhausting. While we certainly want you to be well prepared in a practical sense, a more vital aspect of your preparation is taking the time to consider and reflect upon your upcoming adventure in Indonesia.

We have provided some questions to guide your reflection. They are intended to provide inspiration, challenge assumptions and ignite deep thinking and lively discussions.

Please write approximately 2 pages. This reflective writing exercise will be collected upon arrival in Indonesia.

We all come from very different backgrounds with different belief systems, adding color and diverse viewpoints to our group experience. Before encountering the “other” and the “unknown”, it is important to first take the opportunity to understand where you, as an individual, are coming from. 

• What gives meaning to my life?
• What motivates me?
• What are my strengths and gifts?
• What are my goals for this summer in Indonesia?

There are no right or wrong answers here! We simply ask that you take some space to think deeply and explore your own values, aspirations and motivations.

We look forward to seeing you all soon!

Warmest wishes from your Instructor Team,

Gavin, Annelies and Rita

The rose light of dawn started to shine and I woke up with an urge to relieve myself.

We were in Dene, a village where the sand sifts through your toes as you walk. If you keep walking, you will reach an enchanted forest where prickly burs cling to the bottom of your feet. After you walk through the forest, you will reach the sea.

In Dene, women cover their faces with hijabs and villagers are often seen praying and reading the Koran. Sometimes, the entire village – babies, adolescents, adults, elders – stays up from dusk until dawn, under the starlight, chanting, dancing, and swaying.

The villagers sway with grace and fluency. And they snap, too. As Mayasin, the village chief, lets out creative melodies in Wolof and Arabic, the villagers sing along, on their knees, swaying their torsos to the ground and back up. Snap. To the ground, back up. Snap. A cycle of rhythm and passion.

But at that time, as I stumbled outside of my hut into the rose light of dawn, the only thing on my mind was finding a place to relieve myself. The protocol for this situation was to go to the forest. So I ran barefoot, the dewy sand passing between my toes, until I reached the forest where I chose a friendly tree.

Minutes later, I began the journey back to my hut. The morning breeze, wet chilly sand, and gentle sun rays made my mind fresh. No one else was awake.

I walked with purpose. I envisioned myself entering my hut and stretching out on my sunflower-yellow inflatable sleeping pad. I walked, passing by white huts with straw roofs, a well, and golden dogs.

Where am I? I wondered to myself. Running from my hut to the forest had only taken a minute, but the journey home seemed to be taking longer. I spotted a mosque nearby, towering over the land. I had never seen this mosque before. That’s when I realized I was lost. The entire sun was now visible over the horizon and I had no idea where I was.

I approached an elderly woman who was hanging up fabric on a clothesline.

“How are you?” I asked.

“I’m here.”

“How is your family?”

“They’re here.”

“Do you know how I can get to my hut in Dene, near the place where they chant?”

“I don’t know,” she said.

I meandered through this neighborhood, asking everyone I saw. A man pointed a finger in one direction, so I walked that way. A young girl pointed me in a different direction, so I walked that way. The people were eager to help me get home.

The sun’s position in the sky reminded me that breakfast time was approaching, and my stomach growled. I wondered if I would ever get back to my hut, or if I would spend the rest of my life searching.

Two little boys came up to me, giggling. They must have been six or seven years old. I started a conversation with them, and soon after, I told them that I was lost.

“I’m looking for my hut in Dene, near the place where they chant,” I said.

“Dene?” one boy responded. “You’re in a different village.”

The other boy laughed. “Come, follow us.”

The two boys guided me back to my house. It was a surprisingly long walk, but we made it. I thanked them and arrived just in time for breakfast.

The two of them ran off like little children do, and I stood there, watching them, feeling grateful. I was grateful for the goodwill of the Senegalese people, their consistent forgiveness of my directional problems, and their willingness to take time out of their day to help me.

But above all, as I stood there outside my hut in Dene, I was thankful for my tongue. As the old Wolof proverb goes, “Boroom làmmiñ du réer.” Someone with a tongue will not get lost.

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

- – - – - – - – - – - – -

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