Mirise says, tell my family I love them.

Wade says: wooden saddles are rough on the tail bone.

Sandy says: she still loves chai.

Tim sends a generic non verbal gesture.

Ari says: Tell my family I've camped outside for 4 nights now and i am not even freaking out.

Tracy has found a renewed love of UNO ( the card game) which has been a constant during afternoon tea and says "I think it's safe to say trekking fits well with everyone and we are going to be sad to leave the trail in a few days."

Doug has requested that "don't drop the soap in the river" be the title of the entry.

Anyway, I’m sure people have already mentioned when we got attacked by snow leopards on the walk between Namgial’s house and the composting toilets, and the unexpected pit of molten lava we had to tightrope across with our clunkalicious backpacks on the way to SECMOL, and all the interesting characters we met hitchhiking the remainder of the way when, after lunch, we found our jeep crushed by a yeti and all of our personal hygiene items missing. But I’ll just go ahead and debrief on the week we just spent in Domkhar.
Let’s see.. what can I say?
Domkhar is a little town; it’s a quiet village.
Every day like the one before.
Little town, full of little people, waking uuppp tooo sayyyyy-

…sorry. It’s an impulse.

It was a good week. My family consisted of my Aba-le (father), Ama-le (mother), my older bother Thupstan (post-college, I think in his 20’s. He is balding and identified a lot with you, dad, when I showed them all my pictures), and my grade 10 sister, Dolma, who is about my age and who is an absolute sweetheart.

She was really quiet, especially at first. In fact, a lot of the girls I met were really shy. We spent two days at Domkhar High School. The first one was specifically English conversation day. I first went with the 1-4 graders (SOO sweethearts. We hokey-pokey-ed it up. They knew all sorts of bodyparts. Even eyebrows. I was impressed. I taught them “heel,” though. And did cartwheels to teach them the word “up-side-down.” I love their lack of inhibition). Then I went with the 7th and 8th graders though. The contrast was shocking and reeeeally interesting. They were so quiet. Unbelievably so. Even the boys were shy to talk, but especially the girls. A lot of them would look down when I looked to them, and I ended up just talking about myself for about half an hour. When I tried to ask them questions back, they would look down and acted like that meant I couldn’t see them. Even if I addressed a particular student, a few times they would just turn away and not answer. It was immensely intriguing.

As I learned more about the education system in general (we had a few talks about it), it made sort of more sense. There are a few major government tests, especially the class 10 exam, which if you don’t pass, you cannot continue your studies. The thing that pains me, though, is how much the tests are memorization-based. I don’t think I even know the full extent of it, but Tracy was explaining that they have these big books of facts to study, and then the test is basically an “essay” question on one thing from the book, where you essentially have to re-spew out, almost word for word, what is in the study book—the kind of thing that would probably have you kicked out of school for plagiarism in the States. The kids are taught to memorize, not to think for themselves, formulate opinions, think critically, or have faith in their own ideas. It’s painful to see such a waste: when school is so fairly widespread, it le sucks that the institutionalized system isn’t serving the students like it could be.

I thought about my own education: I went through a phase in 9th and 10th grade where I haaated history. I thought I was horrible at it. I spent ages on the readings, and hardly spoke in class because I thought that there were right answers I was supposed to know that I just hadn’t gotten out of the assignments. It took until my second semester of sophomore US history, when I got an A on an essay and was wholly surprised that I was capable of that, for me to realize that there weren’t right answers I was missing, but that it was all about taking in information, processing it, and backing up my arguments.
That was a real anagnorisis for me. Until then, I was really shy to speak because I was afraid to be wrong. But when I gained more faith in my ability to craft my own opinions and synthesize information, I was much more confident in class.
That confidence and self-faith are, I feel, most lacking in the education system here. I don’t know enough about it. I don’t know if it’s the Jammu & Kashmir system, or the whole of India. But it’s definitely had me thinking even more about the role of education, and the importance not just of school, but what specifically is taught and learned there.

Anyway, Dolma was such a sweetheart. I loved picking potato leaves (“aloo lomar”) with her. She braided my hair, taught me Ladakhi dance, and showed me how to crack open walnuts and apricot pits.

My Ama-le was adorable. She didn’t speak much English, but let me watch her milk the cows and got so excited when I learned how to say that butter tea is delicious in Ladakhi. And my Aba-le was so curious. He retired last year from being the Domkhar High School headmaster, and he asked me sooo many questions. I answered his questions about the American Indians, the Bermuda Triangle, Barack Obama, and which was the most populous US state (I confirmed with Doug the next day, to be sure, but we reached a consensus that it is in fact California, fyi, in case you ever find yourself cornered with the question in rural Ladakh). I made a list for him of all the parts of speech (for which my visual memory excitedly recalled that Montessori 8-part stencil with all the different grammar shapes), and I listed all the helping verbs, which I was surprised I still remembered from when we memorized them in middle school, and which I never expected to need to draw upon, least of all anywhere like this.

We left a few days ago, and arrived here at SECMOL. Mom and Dad, my Ama-le packed up a giant plastic bag full of dried apricots (verrrry common snack) for me to take home for you. I tried to explain that I won’t be home until essentially January. She doesn’t speak much English. So, know that she’s thinking of you, but they are heavy, and I’m sorry if they don’t exactly make it all the way through Dharamsala and Jaipur.

Also, mom: I have been drinking some of the lemon water packet things. They are very handy. The water here tasted funny the other day and it helped much. You were right you win I’m sorry.

Also also, I know you haven’t heard from me in a while, so just so you don’t worry, I want you to know that although I do have a bit of a sore throat and a runny nose (so does basically everybody), nobody has been anywhere even remotely near a hospital, so fret not.

We’re leaving (tomorrow?) on trek. I’m actually really excited. I am going to be very smelly, I’ll warn you in advance, just in case it carries all the way to Massachusetts.

Everyone, I miss you muchly.

I’m having a good time here at SECMOL. It is a non-governmental institution, started a number of years ago, where students come who have failed at least two subjects in their 10th class exam. They live here, and retake their 10th grade as “foundation students,” and then if they want to they can continue living here in 11th and 12th grade while they attend a government school in Leh. The students are so open, and so accessible, and so welcoming and so confident in their skin. The atmosphere is so nurturing and healthy. They dance and sing, are unafraid to act remarkably goofy, and make so much effort to bring us into the community. I feel so lucky to get to learn so much from them about how to be so open and comfortable in their own skin, and how to make such an active effort to reach out and draw others into that energy.

I’m sorry this turned out so long.
‘I would have written you a shorter blogpost, but I didn’t have the time.’ (That was maybe Walt Whitman who said that?) He kept a blog. Little known fact.

Talk to you all later,
Oodles of loovle,
<3 sandy

p.s. Dear Jake and Sam,
we miss you
hope all is well
continue to be back-flip-inducing-ly awesome,
please and thanks

Dear Mom, Dad, and Bek,
I leave tomorrow for a 9-10 day trek through the scenic Markha Valley to a spectacular mountain top location. It will likely be the most physically demanding experience of my life. Don’t worry; there are pack animals to carry the bags. Chances are it will probably demand quite a bit on the mental and emotional spectrum as well. Don’t worry; there will also be a large artificial family for me to confide in and draw strength from, if sixth grade English taught me anything it’s that you don’t end sentences with prepositions so I will not. You see what I did there? Crap, I ended that one with a preposition. Whatever, to summarize, I feel as though I am heading into this trek, and in many ways this whole three month crucible as a piece of graphite. I’m hoping to emerge from it as a diamond. Hopefully ten days in the mountains or three months in India will be an adequate substitute for a million years of intense heat a pressure deep within the Earth’s crust. I may well emerge a rough diamond, still in need of cutting and polishing, but I feel I might be getting a little to into the analogy, so I’ll just call it quits here. There’s that god damned preposition again…poop. Regardless of what happens on this trip I feel as though I may forever be at the mercy of the English language. Packs of wild dogs live out in the desert here, I’m glad they’ve managed to eek out an existence despite being forgotten by their “best friend.”

The Frequency is Courage
-Doug B.

P.S. I love everyone.

I always seem to be blogging when I’m distracted. Justin is talking about how he threw up before every college football game. Mirise is making animal noises. Wade is passed out with his notebook on his face. Sandy just took a picture of me, and the flash is making the computer screen trippy. Doug is camouflaged in a pile of bags. Now Ari just took a picture of me…ow. I can no longer see the computer screen. Sorry parents if I didn’t mention your kid. I’m sure they’re doing something equally interesting!

Everyone is sick! I had my one sick day, but that was it. We’re at SECMOL right now, which is the Student Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh. Ow, another picture. It’s pretty cool here, but I really want to leave on our trek. I’m super-ultra-pumped for that.

We just finished up our homestays in Dhomkhar, which was an amazing experience. We were all jealous of Wade because he appeared to hit the familial jackpot. He had three adorable little brothers and crazy spoon-throwing grandparents. I was pretty happy with my family, though. Ow. This laptop is a flash magnet.

I had a little brother who was 13, an older brother of 23, a mom, and a dad. I felt somewhat awkward at first because I was alone with my little brother who was shy. He wasn’t all crazy ga-ga-goo-goo-oh-my-god-Americans like the other kids were; he was much more reserved. My little brother and my dad spoke good English, so I had some conversations with them, with some humorous miscommunications. The first question I asked my dad was about the ceiling, and he responded by telling me his family’s annual income. Some wires got crossed.

After the first night, things got much easier though. My little brother opened up a lot more, and we became really good buddies. But out of all the things I did that made other kids laugh, my little brother never laughed as hard as when I farted. Farts clearly transcend all cultural boundaries.

I couldn’t talk much with my mom or my older brother, and my dad left after the first night to go work in another city, but I had some fun interactions with them. My mom taught me how to churn butter, and my older brother showed me how to chop turnips without killing myself. Cool stuff!

That’s all I’m gunna cover from Domkhar, for the purposes of time and because I have to pee. I was really touched by the welcoming spirit of the people in Domkhar, though. They accepted me into their lives as a member of the family without any reservations. That hospitality is something I’ll never forget. It was also so valuable to see a completely different way of life. Really cool stuff. And I really have to pee. Farewell from India!

Hi Mom!

-Tim

Climbers often refer to "traversing" a mountain face. I am not a climber by any means, but as we have traveled back and forth across Ladakh, it feels like we are "traversing" this terrain. The mountains are tall and jagged and they provide epic views. Mentally, it has created a wonderful sense of adventure for me and it seems like every turn provides some new aspect of the land and culture in Ladakh.

Our group has done a lot over the past couple of weeks and it seems like with every activity we are growing ever closer. Currently, we are staying at SECMOL, an educational non-profit helping Ladakhi students prepare for higher education and/or life in general. The students are wonderful. They welcomed us with open hearts and minds. It seemed as if we were old family re-uniting once again. This is amazing, when you think about it, as our group and the local students are about as far away, geographically, as possible on the earth. This time has reminded me of the power of open-mindedness. We have engaged in chores around the grounds, English language classes, song and dance sessions and so much more. It will be difficult to leave this environment, as the connections we are developing are quickly deepening.

Soon, we will depart on trek and into a new aspect of the program. It will surely provide challenges for us that we haven't experienced yet. I am sure, however, that our group is ready for the challenges and will undoubtedly connect even deeper with each other.

That is all for now.

Be well and we look forward to hearing from all of you,

Justin
Leh, Ladakh October 2nd, 2008

1. Spitting hot fire (Rapping)
2. Dancing traditional Ladakhi grooves (Making an idiot of myself)

Mom, guess what?! I’m not going to shave my face while I’m in India; I’m going to comeback a woolly mammoth, tusks and all. I’m doing this partially out of laziness but also because Wade is largely incapable of growing facial hair so I have volunteered to be a vessel for this dream of his. I’m a humanitarian, what can I say. At this point in the trip, I have one thing I miss more than anything else in the world: Ice, this country is devoid of it. A cold drink here is rarer than a snow leopard. The chocolate here isn’t up to snuff either, I don’t know what it is about Western society but hot damn can we make chocolate and chill drinks perhaps that should be the definition of a developed nation.

The road signs here are hilarious, as well as thoughtful. Here are a few examples for your amusement:

“I am Curvaceous, Be Slow.”
“Be Mr. Late, Not Late Mr.”
“No Race, No Rally, Enjoy Beauty of the Valley”
“Speed is a Knife Which Cuts Short the Life”

That’s it for now. Hopefully I’ll have something more insightful to say after trek. Sorry I was in a silly mood tonight. Anyway, it has been a pleasure as always.

We’ll meet again, don’t know where don’t know when.

-Doug B.

We are at SECMOL right now, a fantastic institution which Ari explained in her recent post. I am stricken by the Indian education system, and think I would have been an absolutely miserable student here. The exams, which are crucial for progression, are based all upon memorization, but SECMOL encourages a more practical system of learning, based on imagination and experience. It is really cool to talk to the kids, who are about our ages and get to know the school.

Last week we did homestays in Domkhar. I was really scared at first but it was a completely positive experience. The children in my family, Tashi Lahmo and Gurmet Dorjay, both spoke English, so I could communicate with them. Gurmet and I bonded immediately, he is sweet and smart and asked lots of questions. We would walk around the property, play with the dogs, cows, and cats. They had a little beach next to the Indus River and we made sandcastles and talked about science, his favorite subject. Tashi Lahmo and I bonded over song and dance. She taught me how to do traditional Ladakhi dance, and although I was bad, it endeared me to the family. She also taught me all the words to the current Ladakhi hit, “Miss Call.” Everywhere we go in Ladakh, people are amused by me singing it.

I am really struggling with trying to put this experience into words in a way appropriate for internet dissemination, but I made my best effort. I will continue to make the brunt of my contribution through drawings, so check out the flickr photos.

-Natalie

1. Learned how to use a two story compost toilet without falling down the hole
2. Harvested barley wheat
3. Harvested turnips
4. Harvested green beans
5. Mistook my homestay sister for a brother. That was terribly awkward.
6. Failed at making mok-moks (traditional Ladakhi dumplings)
7. Took part in an epic volleyball battle between the GLAB students and Domkhar HS students. We lost. Four times out of four.
8. Did not take a shower
9. And was totally fine with it
10. Grabbed a bull by the horns

Okay, so it was more like the bull was peacefully nibbling on a pile of freshly harvested turnips and I tied a rope around its horns and dragged it out of the garden. But technically, that counts, right?

I’ve found the school system here to be absolutely fascinating. There are a lot of things I don’t agree with about the system, like how stressful the 10th grade exam is. It reminds me of No Child Left Behind, the way that the standardized test is emphasized above all. The focus seems to be on memorizing facts than independent thinking, because memorization is what passes on the 10th grade exam and if you don’t pass, you can’t go on with your education. To put into perspective how hard and stressful this exam is, you only need a 33% to pass and currently, the pass rate is 30%. Up from 5%, to be sure, but still. What I observed in my two days at Domkhar High School was marked timidity and a lack of self confidence among the students, and it just kills me because I can imagine the effects a system like this would have on me. I would be a completely different person. See, I thought I had problems with American education—that’s why I’m on this trip. I wanted a different way of learning. But to me, the education here seems so much more unforgiving, and I at once realize how good I had it and how much I wish I could give the students an education experience like I had. It just hurts me to see people so similar to me being so uncomfortable. I’m not sure I’m articulating myself the way I want to…

Luckily, someone’s doing something about school here. Right now, we’re at SECMOL, the Student’s Educational and Cultural Movement of Ladakh. It’s an NGO that’s trying to raise the passing rate of the exam by changing how schools teach, but in the meantime they are housing 10th grade students who didn’t pass the exam and building up their confidence in themselves and academics. The difference between the high school and this hostel is incredible. Students here are outgoing and comfortable and so self-sufficient. Another great thing about SECMOL is that it’s run on almost all solar power and it’s got a really developed recycling program. All in all it’s a great example of innovative education and green building. I love being able to experience this, and see how well it works.

By the way, I milked a cow today. It’s a pretty unique experience.

So, we leave on the third for our 10 day trek in Marka Valley. I’m pretty pumped about it. We’re covering around 100 miles on foot and going up to 17,000 feet at one point.

Hope all is well back home. Seriously, we’ve been hearing crazy things about the economy. But anyways. See y’all later!

Ari

Greetings to everyone from SECMOL in Phey, Ladakh where today was a busy day of English Conversation class getting to know our new friends here on campus in addition to our first round of washing clothes by hand and getting 'geared' up for our 10 day trek in the Markha Valley. I'm enjoying watching the students connect to the SECMOLpas in this amazing community.

We'll not have internet access regularly for about another 12 days - so, thanks for everyones' patience! We'll be communicating back to the states via John and the NYC office over the phone while we're out milling around the Zangskar Mountain range. We'll climb two passes - Kanda-la (15,000ft) and Gongmaru-la (17,300ft) during the course of the 10 days, but even more inspiring will be the fall landscape in these sunkissed valleys of the Trans Himalaya. We'll camp each night after walking 6-8 hours each day and share lots of reflection time about our trip together this far. We'll also learn about Leave No Trace ethics, interact with the villages near to our campsites, and of course (this is my favorite part!) share bedtime stories about Ladakhi culture written by Abdul Ghani Shiek, a well-known author and member of the Muslim community here in Ladakh. I think the excitement is outweighing the nerves at this point after Justin and I checked through everyone's gear today and we're all looking very prepared.

We all hope everything is well in the states despite the news we're hearing about the economy.

More soon,

Tracy

John

We spent a wonderful day exploring connections with the youth of Domkhar at the local government high school (High school means classes 1 - 10 and government means public). We engaged in conversations about cultural differences, played local games, and performed our best accapella rendition of "The Lion Sleeps Tonight" including a thrilling representation of actual lions by Wade and Justin that playfully frightened the school children into giggles.

Yesterday, we spent the afternoon on Namgial's fields harvesting buckwheat, then carrying the bundles of stalks up to the shucking place on the rooftop of his brother's house. The harvesting was accompanied by lots of laughter, breaks for tea and biscuts, and crop circles in the shape of hearts which reminded me of Harrison's beard-art from last spring.

Everyone seems to be settling in with their homestay families - enjoying learning more Ladakhi language, song and dance, and fending off small children who like to climb all over you. We're all taking this opportunity to connect more deeply with Ladakhi village culture, and sharpen our backgammon skills. We love Domkhar!

Tomorrow, we spend the day with our families and meet up in the afternoon for our second Hindi language class of many. Justin and I are looking forward to a walk up to the high pasture of Domkhar where we can test our skills at breathing air even LESS full of oxygen than at this 9,000ft above sea level. We'll get some good views of the surrounding peaks and hopefully have some images to share when we get back to Leh and have fast internet connections.

Hope all is well stateside!

Tracy and Justin

I just want to milk a yak and rest my head against it's heaving body during the process.
I could even make a butter sculpture using Yak's milk that I've extracted myself!
That's all an American boy could ask for.

With everlasting love,
Wa De-Ji

P.S. Expect a Yak poem upon my return to a place that sports an internet connection.

P.S.S. Familiarize yourself with this majestic creature while I'm gone:
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/YAK

We'll meet again, don't know where don't know when.
-Doug B.