I'm really glad we went to Varanasi for our student-led. At first, the city seemed unreachable for me- rickshaw prices were even more ridiculous than in Jaipur, people were blatantly trying to cheat us, tourists were everywhere, the sun was perpetually hidden in smog... And then, slowly, the city ended up coming to me. I found friendly people, like this street kid who sort of adopted us and showed us around the old city, where we surely would've gotten lost on our own. I saw how holy the city was when we went for a boatride on the Ganges before sunrise and floated through dark blue mist past the waking ghats. I discovered the sequel to First Cup, our favorite cafe in Dharamsala, at this overpriced but really good boutique cafe here. I traded my lovably tacky Taj Mahal snowglobe-keychain for a tiny, hand-carved Ganesha. The city was pretty cool, actually.

So, four more days in India, but the trip doesn't stop there. This isn't the last you've heard of me!!

So, we're back in Delhi for the final segment of our journey. We took an overnight train from Varanasi, leaving last night and arriving this morning. Our arrival in Delhi marked the end of the student-led portion, which resulted in all of us students promptly dismissing our former responsibilties and jobs. Tracy was bombarded with playful cries of "My head hurts...Where are we?...I have diarrhea...I'm hungry....I have general insecurities..."

This train was our third overnight train, and I've found that I've grown to like them. One of the best parts of the train is the incessant cries of "chai-EY" by chai salesmen who make regular rounds on the train. They nasalize the end of "chai" to make it louder, which also makes it hilarious and highly imitatable. One grows to appreciate each salesman's rhythm (or lack there of) and style. Some mix in a "garam" (hot in Hindi)--"chai-EY garam chai-EY" or other assorted phrases that are above my Hindi knowledge. My favorite, however, will always be the simple "chai-EY!"

There are other salesmen too ("Cof-fee...cof-fee cof-fee.....toe-mah-tur souuuuuup......bread egg omlette cutlet...."), but the chai salesmen are still my favorite.

These train rides also include some very interesting conversations, some surreal attempts at sleep, and LOTS of junk food. Good stuff.

I'm very happy to be back in Delhi. Delhi feels like the closest thing I have to a home in India. We're back at Kameshka Palace (spelling?), which is where we've stayed most times in Delhi. I love this area of the city.

It's funny to feel how comfortable I was just walking down the street to this cyber cafe. I know what to expect now, which is extremely comforting in a city that seemed so foreign when we arrived here three months ago. I know how to shoo rickshaws, I know how to deal with "salesmen" and beggars.

And I know how to cross the street. It was so funny thinking of my attempts to cross the street when we first arrived. Traffic was coming from the wrong direction...no stoplights...no pedestrian crossings....it was difficult. But then on the way here I crossed the street with at least some confidence. I extended my hand at one point to stop an SUV that was going too fast around a corner, because he should stop for me because I'm a pedestrian. He honked and didn't like that, but I crossed the street and the world continued.

I've learned in India that you have to assert yourself in so many situations. For example--if you're waiting in line for something, Indian people will continuously cut in front of you unless you physically assert yourself. It's initally frustrating, but then you realize it's just the way this country works. And I have to advocate for myself in many other situations--from telling Tracy if I'm sick to telling angry rickshaw drivers to get out of my face.

I think it's not a skill that necessarily comes naturally to me, but this experience is certainly helping. I'm still not where I want to be and I'm still a sub-par bargainer, but I'm getting better every day. I hope to take as much as I've learned here back to the States in threeish days.

I hope all is well in the US. I certainly miss my own family, and I look forward to meeting some of the other families at the airport. We'll be back before you (and we) know it.

-Tim

But in all seriousness...
Here we are, back in Delhi for the final time. It is a very, very strange feeling, knowing we are going to be leaving this place so soon, and returning home. I am not quite sure how I feel about that, and I guess I'll realize when I get home, or maybe I won't, but that's ok.
I do know that I already miss India, and my majorly extended family that has been created, with members extending through Ladakh and Dharamsala, to Jaipur Delhi Varanasi, and all across the United States.
I already miss everything, but treasure it so dearly.
I have a hunch I always will.
Love Always,
Mirise

PS- Mom, Dad, Kira and Avery, I love you. I hope you will be at the airport :) minus Avery

I thought I'd salute my next big transition by paralleling my first post of the trip, just to see where I've been and how I've changed.

Things I am bringing with me:
An extra duffel to hold all my new stuff. A veritable library of the books I've accumulated (I hear I have a problem) as well as the two and a half journals I've filled. A lot of Himalaya products (the Indian beauty/healthcare line) and a hoard of Hide and Seek biscuits (self-proclaimed to be the "world's best moulded chocolate chip cookie"). I've got a 70L backpack's worth of dirty laundry, which I won't have to do by hand anymore, and an umbrella which I never used, because it's rained maybe three times on the trip. I've also got many, many promises to myself to follow through on my experience here. These would include resolutions like being motivated enough to take my curiosity and do something with it, find out what I don't know. Being more understanding of what I only perceive as shortcomings in other people. Being engaged in the community- both locally and globally. Using my time each day more effectively. Being a reliable strength for both myself and others. Because I'm bringing with me a new kind of independence and confidence that I've actively worked on and built up here- what are daily obstacles and problems to me when I survived the Himalayas? Took a vow of silence for 10 days? Connected with three homestay families in a row? More important than anything in my luggage is my new skills to think critically, solve problems under pressure, and communicate.

And what I'm leaving behind:
Rickshaw drivers!!! And anarchistic traffic laws. Jelabis (the best streetfood EVER). Three cities I kind of know how to get around. My old self, whatever that means, as I'm not entirely sure who my new self is yet. A culture that doesn't overwhelm me anymore. People who are no longer strangers. In truth, I don't feel like I'm leaving much behind, because I took what I needed from each person or place I encountered.

I feel like I need a third category- what I'm looking forward to. I'm looking forward to seeing my family and friends. I'm looking forward to eating familiar foods as well as trying a bunch of new foods I would never have dared to before (like kalamari! Yes, just because it rhymes with my name.) I'm looking forward to my own bed, and winter, and hot chocolate. I'm looking forward to seeing Sandy, Mirise, Kate, Wade, Tim, Natalie, Doug, Tracy, Justin, Jake and Sam again. I'm looking forward to experiencing home with new eyes, and most of all, being a new person in an old place. I bet I'll see many things I never did before.

I have absolutely no clue what's going to happen next.

Mommy, daddy and Isaac (maybe? or you'll be in school)- can't wait to see you at the airport!

But then, just the other day, I just got this thought like, Man. I miss Ladakh. I miss Namgial and Dorjee. I miss trek. I miss Nyima-la in Dharamsala. And I haven't really noticed it as I've been going along, caught up in defining myself by my life and friends and world at home, but I've created the same fervor of memory and place and community here. And I can only anticipate looking back in one or two months and sighing, huh. I miss Varanasi.

Varanasi was great, speaking of. We saw a lot, but the pace was laid back and chill. We saw the ghats, and spent an afternoon in this twisty, windy alley way section of the old city known as the Gulleys, where we were led to a henna place. We sat for a while, some of us dyed ourselves orange, the son of the owners came into the living room and played us tabla for a little while, and it was all around just pretty cool, to expierience and explore the city, without specific intention or goal or itinerary to stick to, because that let our eyes be open to the little side-street opportunities that present themselves, the little tucked away nook and cranny worlds that we wouldn't have noticed or stopped to sit in if we were focused forward on the future and certain plans. It was really refreshing, to just sort of dive forth into the Gulleys, and see where the current washed us.

We're sharing our final meal of dal makhani, shahi paneer, navratan korma and of course (as no meal would be complete without it), naan. (I prefer the buttered type, but there has been a real committment to the garlic type as of late). Amit is hosting at his house today and our bags are waiting to be loaded up into the gypsy to cart us over to the airport early this evening.

What a journey it's been. We're looking forward to seeing smiling faces on the other side of the gate at the airport, for sure. While we found ourselves councilling in the middle of a Sai Baba parade earlier this afternoon, I reflected sincerely on all India has gifted us with this past 90 days and I'm feeling happy. Lessons abound, and most likely, lessons that we don't even know we learned yet. May we all reach safely to our homes and have happy reunions with family and friends, and may this journey stay with us as seeds to make this world a better place, step by step.

That's all I could ever hope for.

Keep watching the blog for recent photos, and communication from all of us, as I enter a land with a more reliable internet connection...

love,
Tracy

I apologize in advance for the doubtless typos and lack of coherency in this post. I've been back at my house for only a few hours after twoish days of no sleep. I'm trying to stay up until a reasonable time to go to sleep to beat the jet lag...very surreal.

But anyways, India...is over. And that's ok. I 'm usually the type who doesn't say much in goodbyes but then bawls as soon as I'm alone, but that didn't happen today (or tomorrow, yesterday, whatever day this is).

We left Sandy behind when we entered the airport. I teared up a little bit. I thought "Jeez, if I tear up for one person leaving imagine that times six." But I haven't been sobbing...at least not yet. After our crazy flight over the North Pole, Tracy, Marisa, and Justin left us. That was sad, but no tears. Then Wade had to go to the other terminal. Then Kate flew away. And then, Ari flew away too, and it was just me...by myself.

I was waiting for the tears to come, but they didn't. I was taken by an overwhelming sense of gratitude and closure about my experience. Then I felt just really glad to be alive. Walking around Newark Airport and really appreciating every little thing is an interesting experience...

And Newark Airport, by the way, has a Meditation Room (which I gladly used)! Woohoo!

I miss everybody, and I love you all to death, but I don't feel that sad. I know I'll see everyone again, and even if I don't, that's ok. We'll always have our memories.

But...yeah. I'm sitting at home, blogging...my dogs are here, I can eat beef, I can sleep whenever I want. So surreal, still.

t's interesting...usually I would jump right back into my computer or my cell phone, but I just don't feel the urge this time. I don't want to plug back in. I just want to hang out with my parents and maybe my friends tomorrow and exchange stories, and think about what has been. I need to make sure I never go back to the way I was before, and that I extract every bit of benefit that I can from this awesome experience.

I'm so grateful to all the students, to Justin and Tracy and Peter, to John and Michelle, and to all the other people that made our trip possible. Thank you all so much.

I'm passing out in this computer chair, so i think I'll take that as my cue to stop. I hope everyone is home safe and re-adjusting as much as they can. Need sleep.

-Tim

The last day and a half have been an odd sort of Limbo. I spent basically the whole day yesterday in my hotel. I showered, had some curd, and then basically spent the afternoon journaling and trying to figure out what in Shiva's name just happened.

I used up a good dozen or two pages processing and attempting to comprehend and add it all up. I'm still not really much closer to figuring it out. But it's strange:

I feel like when you've been standing underneath a waterfall. For long enough that you forget you are. And then suddenly you step out of it. It's basically like this:
WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOSHHHHH

and then nothing.
And I feel my skin pulled and pushed in different directions, from the mere absence of the pushes and pulls and the pressure and the force and the current I've assumed as normal and forgotten to notice. Like how you stare at a stoplight for 60 seconds, and then a white wall looks green, for the mere absence of red you've readjusted to see as neutral. Or when you hear silence, for the absence of white noise.

But get this (it's cosmic):: I finished my what-the-hell-just-happened journal entry on exactly the last page of the blue, recycled cotton paper journal I got and started in Dharamsala.
AND my last, one-and-only, most fantastical green BIC pen ran out of ink a mere number of hours before I left for the airport, so I wrote for the first time in pencil--
but then I got on the flight, and--first thing--the flight attendants handed out these little triangular boxes containing none other than a Kingfisher pen and Kingfisher earbud headphones.

AND it's perfect because one night in the middle of Jaipur the right bud of my iPod headphones randomly stopped working. I got used to it--it works fine except for when I'm listening to Such Great Heights, that was weird--but I was just thinking how I should get a new pair, or bring them with puppy dog eyes back to Geek Squad,
And Kingfisher totally delivered.
It was some sort of cosmic alignment.
I'm taking it as a sign of things to come.

Plus they served me dinner, even though it was 9:00, and it was actually excellent. Their "cheesecake" was more like whipped cream in a bowl, but the spoons they provided were really cool and funkily shaped and I quite enjoyed.

And then I listened to music. Through both ears. And watched the moon out of my window for a good two hours, with nothing but clean, un-smoggy air between the two of us. And to top it off there was no one else in the entire row.

Ari, Oxford Comma came on on shuffle.
And I HAVE climbed to Dharamsala.
And met with the highest Lama.
And I thought that was pretty ribbon-and-bow wonderful.

So, that's where I am. I'm missing all of you guys. And wondering where I'm going, and also still wondering how I wound up here in the first place--it's like I'm facing the shock of Global LAB being over, but I think I'm in some weird way also simultaneously facing the shock of it starting, which has forgotten to hit me and get processed over the whirlwind of the last three months.

Anyway, in the meantime
you're all in my heart
Love,
<3 sandy,
whoever and whatever that combination of letters adds up to

Despite that, being home is great. I'm in awe of how comfy my bed is and how I can stand under a hot shower for half an hour whenever I want.

I'm not really sure what's happening for me other than the tangible effects of reentry. I feel like my brain has shifted to a lower gear. This is partially because of massive amounts of jet lag, but also because I no longer have to analyze my surroundings from a newcomer's perspective. I never realized how hard my brain was working in India on an everyday level- avoiding rickshaws and cow poop on the road, dodging pushy storekeepers, remembering where I was going so I could get back to my hotel/homestay, and generally making sure I wasn't walking into any trouble. And then suddenly, all that was gone. It's unnerving how normal it is for me to be here.

I can't believe India just happened, that I went 7,700 miles away from home and stayed there for three months. I feel so incredibly lucky to have received a gift like that. I'm dedicated to making sure that trip continues for me because, like Tim mentioned in the post below this, I don't want to go back to being the person I was before this.

I really like how the semester wrapped up. It was definitely the right time to go home. And it's okay that I'm not with my friends anymore, because I appreciate the time we spent together and if it's possible, I'll see them again in the future sometime.

And I love being back with my family.

P.S. I'm listening to the Yuvvraaj soundtrack and it is fantastic!

Doug went home with typhoid.
I came home with insomnia.

The international flight is to blame... those continental folk were out to get me- I could sense it as soon as I stepped onto the aircraft. It's all their fault- the staff inserted a peculiar ingredient with a restless/sleepless side effect into my flight meal- OR perhaps cultivated a culture of robotic parasites containing a nasty stimulant toxin with the help of rogue robo-biological engineering scientists, polluting my packaged flight pillow and blanket in an effort to keep me awake for so long that I mentally collapse. Maybe it isn't Continental's fault in actuality. It could be the trauma inflicted from the watching of strange on flight movies, such as Eternal Sunshine for the Spotless Mind, in the midst of an unstable and emotional state of mind. That was rough. It made me feel all kinds of wrong.

NO!
THE SPECULATION WAS FALSE.
I know exactly what the root of this problem is. Or who the root of the problem is, rather.

John Travolta

December 13th. Kanishka Palace Hotel, Channa Market, Karol Bagh, New Delhi, India.

Tim and I sit on the bed in room 205. We watch television, as Tim awaits a de-brief meeting with our fearless leaders. There are three English movie channels. We watch the one called [Z Cinema]. Witness the end of a poor quality film. Wait patiently as the credits roll. Anticipate the next presentation, hoping for something worthwhile- some sort of relief from the other two channels. A behind the scenes look at John Travolta's life comes on. We are hypnotized by John's awkward delivery of speech. There is talk in the program of John's insomnia problem.

BING.

I never should have watched it. I'm so easily influenced- next thing you know I'll be talking with a sensitive tone like the guy and dancing to the Bee Gees as if I were living out Saturday Night Fever.

The past two days have been overwhelming, to say the least. Thirty minutes, at most, of sleep on a highly uncomfortable flight back to the states- December 14th-15th. A thirty five hour birthday- littered with periodical consumption of Cadbury chocolate (Thanks to the group). I stayed awake until 7:00 PM on the 15th. A few close friends welcomed me home alongside my family in the airport and kidnapped me after I took a much needed shower, keeping me out and about all day long. They drove me all around my hometown, blasting music at such high decibels that I could hardly hear myself speak- reintroducing me to their world of suburban drama and frivolous behavior, which I had nearly forgotten. I slept that night until 2:00 AM the next morning. I don't know what happened. I woke up, and couldn't get back to sleep. I spent the morning of the 16th playing video games- snapping out of it around 9:30 AM, when It dawned on me that I was wasting precious life moments with a mind numbing activity.

This rude awakening lead me to suddenly feel, with great intensity, the reality of my current situation. I'm back in the 'heart of dixie'- without a clue as to how I should function here. Without a clue as to what this place means to me nowadays. Without a clue as to where I fit in.

Without my B2B Fall '08 family.

I remember stepping outside to see the winter version of my backyard... and feeling completely helpless. I took a good, long gander at my house, and thought about all of my group members simultaneously. The sense of 'no belonging' was destroying me at that moment. It was then that I realized I had been dealing with the same questions before I left for India. What is my purpose here? What should I do with myself here? Where do I truly fit in here? The end of high school brought these questions on with unrelenting force, as does the end of my time spent in India. The only difference... is that I can face the same questions with confidence and determination now, rather than fear- which was my early response to such things. I've traveled to the other side of the planet, immersing myself in a completely foreign culture, and emerged as a transformed individual- one who has proven to himself that he still possesses the ability to 'seize the moment', turn an uncomfortable experience into something amazing, and, above all else, continue learning/ open his mind/ eradicate all sorts of ignorance.

At first, these uncertain life direction pangs were nearly too much to bear. I'm still mentally chewing on these feelings, but am quite sure that I will be able to solve the temporary problems that they present. I've all the tools to do so now, courtesy of a once in a lifetime adventure. That sounds so cheesy. My companions will understand the emphasis.

I feel that I simply need to direct this energy into a productive venue. It's understandable, I think, to feel so confused in this 're entry' period- when there is everything and nothing to do, all at once. I was so active in India. The program continuously stimulated me. I now have absolutely NOTHING to do in the short term, aside from jet lag recovery rest time, which isn't working out so well.

I've been encouraged to harness this inner momentum. I talked to a couple of people that had made the trip to and fro a few times before about it. It's tempting to 'plug in', as Tim put it in his most recent post, but I can't do that to myself. Sorry to my neglected video games. I need to be completely lucid and undistracted for a while, in order to skillfully handle what's coming up inside of me and make the most out of a will to experience everything with the same amount of wonder that a trip to India evokes. The latter has been described as seeing with 'India Eyes'. I love this concept.

I need to call some people.

Where was I? Oh, yeah... so- that 'winter version of my backyard' moment. I spent the rest of the 16th contemplating these things, sleeping for tiny slices of time in the afternoon. I went to a Barnes and Nobles around 8:40 PM and stayed there until 12:30 AM this morning with a large group of friends. Some have traveled from far off college destinations to be home for the holidays and can relate to my experience in a brand new situation... kind of, sort of. I've been awake since then. I need to sleep- if slumber is still possible for this creature.

The Frequency is Courage
-Doug B.

Before I go, though, there was one extended metaphor (or, according to my memory of the Odyssey in 9th grade English, I think it could be called an "epic simile," which seems appropriate) that I thought of a while ago and intended to use at some point in a blog post or something, but evidently never did.
I don't know if it can be a metaphor, or a simile, without actually anything specific to analogize... but I figured I'd put it up anyway, for your letting-it-sit-in-the-back-of-your-mind-ing pleasure.

for all you folks back home, a little piece of background: the traffic here is wild. very improvisational. very 'color outside the lines'. It has more structure and technique than appear to the naked and untrained eye (certain hand signals, and everyone is super awake and alert), but as a foreigner coming in it basically looks like chaos.

Cars and trucks routinely drive in between lanes or across the central divider on the right (wrong!) side of the road. Especially to pass each other, which happens with frequency.

And so it's like this: when you're in your rickshaw, or car, or taxi, and you pull out onto the right side of the road to pass a big (brightly painted, quite pimped out) truck. And you're speeding ahead to get in front of it. And say there's another car in the lane in the distance, heading straight toward you. The only way to avoid a crash and survive the experience is to plummet forward, full speed ahead. To fly even faster towards the oncoming vehicle. Because then you pass the car you're passing, and shift smoothly back into your own lane, seconds before the other car whizzes past a few feet to your right. No room for hesitation, or second guessing, or doubt.

The first few times driving here, I would freak out instinctively, just at the sight of the car hurling towards us. But the drivers, they don't even flinch. They proceed with commitment and precision and a sense of knowing: a complete unwavering trust in the left lane ahead and the safety they can't at the moment see. And so into the fray, toward the oncoming traffic, there is nothing to do but close your eyes (well, not actually), step up the petrol, and fly forward.

Enjoy.
<3 sandy

I've made it through the two snowstorms this week and the freezing cold temperatures that are disturbing everyone here in North Jersey while they are trying to get out to do their last minute holiday shopping, and I'm looking forward to spending the next weeks with my family... but something is missing. As always, and maybe this is why I continue to do this work, I never really feel like I 're-enter' when I'm back in the states. I miss all of you who I just spend the last three months of my life sharing with and getting to know in such a meaningful way.

I want you to know how much I appreciated each and every moment we were able to share this fall, and how inspiring it was to work with each of you, watch you make good decisions for yourselves, and have a ton of fun while we were traveling together. You are an amazing group of young people.

Remember this - and these feelings - when something is getting you down, when things seem too difficult to persevere. This past three months just taught each of you how to navigate in this ever-changing world with grace and confidence, not as an individual, but as a collaborator and a nurturer. Keep taking that time to take a deep breath and ask yourself how you can best communicate your needs, then listen to others express theirs.

It could be India that does the transforming, but I believe it's really you that does it. Maybe we're glorifying some quality in another country or another culture because it's easier to reach outside rather than trusting what's been inside all along. Keep looking deeply in those difficult places and asking what is true.

I hope you've all had a wonderful first week back reconnecting with loved ones. I wanted to write to give you some internet resources on reentry - these are some that I found by just googling "reentry shock" or "reverse culture shock" which you can do too, and click around to see if anything makes sense. If you find any more good ones, please do share them up here on the blog. Most importantly, keep writing and sharing your thoughts in whatever capacity. That's the best way to process.

Wherever you are, and whatever you're doing, I wish you the best.

Much Love,

Tracy

http://international.missouri.edu/studyabroad/after/cominghome.shtml

This is an interesting website I came across while searching… (Seems Jennifer has an interesting perspective on her travels in India. Makes me think about what you all would put on a list like this…)
http://members.tripod.com/~jennifer_polan/india/backtousa.html

Check out this resource, from the School for International Training, written to parents of students who study abroad. Sometimes reading material written for another audience gives you a different perspective on your own experience:
http://www.sit.edu/studyabroad/parents/docs/parent_reentry_handbook.pdf