"It is not the critic who counts; not the man who pointsout how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat."
-Theodore Roosevelt

Thursday, February 28, 2013

Time's Up


I don’t know much what to say.

Yesterday class seven presented me with a beautifully ornate Assamese gamusa and a small brass plate. They raised a little money themselves between students and pitched in to get these things for me, as seventh graders. What were you doing in 7th grade? It took me completely by surprise and was the best present I’ve received in a long time.

I found everything I was hoping for at Parijat Academy. I tried something new. I was outside of my comfort zone (and will be again shortly) and for a while, every day I saw something new that I had taken for granted my whole life. I lived in an Indian village with a big happy family, a safe environment from which I could learn about India by myself but be surrounded by wonderful people. I now speak enough Assamese to be friendly with every member of the family and to get my point across sometimes in class, but I learned that spoken language is not really how we communicate or make friends. I got to teach regularly, which was of course an interesting experience unto itself, and I felt like what I did made a difference. I learned that I can’t set off on an adventure and cut ties with everyone I know, as much as I might like to. People at home are too important. Not every day was magical – some were great, some were pretty boring, just like at home, but the whole thing was incredible. I don’t know what else to say.

The hardest part of leaving is that my attachment is to the students and if I ever come back they will be gone. There is no possibility of replicating this experience…guess that’s what makes it good.

Pandemonium after handing out prints to the best hotels kids ever!

Some of my favorite pictures from Pamohi:












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I am now slightly more than half done with my trip. On Sunday, God willing, I take the Brahmaputra Mail at 11:45 AM to Varanasi where I will stay for one night and one very long day before taking another train to Delhi to stay for a few days with Bhaswati, a friend I met through Uttam who used to volunteer at Parijat. I think she will show me a good time in Delhi. From there I go to Agra on the 10th to see the Taj Mahal and the Agra Fort, then to Rajastan where I will explore for a little over 2 weeks before catching a plane from Jaipur to Kathmandu on March 29.

I stay in Kathmandu for a day, then take a bus to Pokhara several hours west where I will set up camp for a little while. I’ll look into the treks and go paragliding and see my new friend Alex Clayton. We met (sort of) in Winthrop this summer but have corresponded because she is doing the Peace Corps in outside of Pokhara and I was heading that direction. I will spend some time with her PC friends and hopefully a few days in her village. After that my hope is to take the last 6 weeks to do the Mustang and/or Manaslu and/or Gokyo treks but we’ll see how it all shakes out. I head home June 4. See you guys then!
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