Thursday, April 28, 2011
Apricot Elation
How can I explain to you the joy of living in this world now that I have discovered apricots? The world was always a wonderful place to begin with but as I sprawl across my bed with some of the most agonizing and crippling cramps I have ever experienced all I can do is lay there and laugh at my predictable situation. The pain hurts so good: like 90 apricots in two and a half days. Paying for my foolish gluttony cracks me up... literally. Apricots are my new passion in this world and the pain that comes along with it is worth it, deffinatly worth it. I beam from ear to ear in sheer bliss every time I pop a dusty, folded ol’ wrinkle of a friend into my impatiently salivating mouth and I want to dance and sing across the barren landscape of Ladakh in honor of the orangey tasties and the golden sun which dries them to perfection. Nothing I have eaten in this world has tasted like such a decadent slice of heaven. These apricot cramps are just apart of my newly adopted routine and if that is the price I have to pay for these sweet morsels than I will take it ten times over and I will laugh along every step of the way. -Kylie
VIS Exhibition Topics Spring 2011
A major feature of The VIS Academic Program for high school juniors and seniors is Exhibition, an independent study capstone class. Long-established VIS connections with people and organizations around Ladakh benefit internships that allow students to delve deeper into local communities, and contribute to the work of organizations and local society. Research is often undertaken jointly with SECMOL students. Final exhibition projects include written as well as audio/visual components, and are presented to students, teachers and mentors at SECMOL, and to various communities back at home. Students currently in Ladakh have chosen their exhibition topics, and April is devoted to research and internships to culminate in presentations at the SECMOL campus at the end of the month. For more information on exhibitions, and the VIS Academic Program, see www.vermontis.org.
Katrina Alden (The Sharon Academy, VT) is studying women’s health, specifically the myths and education behind menstruation. Katrina is staying with one of the founders of Women’s for Women’s health in Leh and is conducting interviews with women and health facilities in Leh.
Caroline Atwood (The Sharon Academy, VT) is researching the introduction of Western toys in Ladakh, and their effect on childhood development. She is studying children from two families, one in the city of Leh and the other in a rural village. In addition to comparing and contrasting the behaviors of these children, Caroline is spending time interviewing youth and business owners in and around Leh to further understand changing perspectives in children related to toys and play.
Moya Cavanaugh (Mt. Mansfield Union HS, VT) is exploring the effects of oral tradition on Ladakhi culture as seen through folktales, especially Ladakh’s epic poem, “Gesar of Ling.” Moya is listening to this folktale, which takes approximately 24 hours to tell, to understand the customs and cultural implications surrounding folklore telling. She is staying with a famous Ladakhi folktale orator and his family to learn phases of this folktale, and then with a former SECMOL teacher who works for a cultural preservation NGO in Leh.
Kylie Cook (Thetford Academy, VT) is researching agriculture in Ladakh, and the effect modernization has on youth perspectives of farming. She is taking part in the three-day annual process of building canals for the intricate irrigation system all households must create for their farms. Kylie will be staying with a family in the village of Alchi, and is conducting surveys and interviews with surrounding neighbors.
Cedar Farwell (The Sharon Academy, VT) is studying how science and technology can be balanced with the philosophies applied by Buddhist monks in Ladakh. He is spending time experiencing monastic life in Ladakh’s famous Thikse monastery to research how daily practices have changed in the past fifty years. He will then spend two days conducting interviews with NGOs and Buddhist scholars in Leh.
Jake Huston (Leland and Gray HS, VT) is researching responses to the 2010 disastrous floods in Ladakh. He is living with a family in the Solar Housing Colony affected by the floods. Specifically, Jake is studying pre-fabricated housing models given to displaced families and their ineffectiveness due to a lack of consideration of variables such as Ladakh’s unique climate and culture.
Taylor Knoop (East Greenwich HS, RI) is studying the effect educational methods can have on cultural preservation and pride. She is comparing the differences between education in government schools within Leh and the village of Shey, and at SECMOL (where she has lived for almost three months). She is interviewing teachers and administrative staff, and observe classes, including personal interactions in classrooms such as discipline, curriculum models and daily activities.
Simone Labbance (U32 HS, VT) is looking into cross-cultural dialogue techniques to be used at SECMOL. She is interviewing Ladakhi youth to create and implement activities that foster multiculturalism, and that may be used in future VIS programs. She is using a Danish group as a study sample to understand the effects her dialogue activities have on groups visiting SECMOL.
Alana Ziegler (homeschooled, Nova Scotia) is researching the availability of mental healthcare in Ladakh, and how physiological illnesses are treated. She is staying with the Assistant Director of PAGIR (People’s Action Group for Inclusive Rights), an NGO that works with people with disabilities. Alana is interviewing practitioners of local hospitals to further understand the situation for mental health patients in
Katrina Alden (The Sharon Academy, VT) is studying women’s health, specifically the myths and education behind menstruation. Katrina is staying with one of the founders of Women’s for Women’s health in Leh and is conducting interviews with women and health facilities in Leh.
Caroline Atwood (The Sharon Academy, VT) is researching the introduction of Western toys in Ladakh, and their effect on childhood development. She is studying children from two families, one in the city of Leh and the other in a rural village. In addition to comparing and contrasting the behaviors of these children, Caroline is spending time interviewing youth and business owners in and around Leh to further understand changing perspectives in children related to toys and play.
Moya Cavanaugh (Mt. Mansfield Union HS, VT) is exploring the effects of oral tradition on Ladakhi culture as seen through folktales, especially Ladakh’s epic poem, “Gesar of Ling.” Moya is listening to this folktale, which takes approximately 24 hours to tell, to understand the customs and cultural implications surrounding folklore telling. She is staying with a famous Ladakhi folktale orator and his family to learn phases of this folktale, and then with a former SECMOL teacher who works for a cultural preservation NGO in Leh.
Kylie Cook (Thetford Academy, VT) is researching agriculture in Ladakh, and the effect modernization has on youth perspectives of farming. She is taking part in the three-day annual process of building canals for the intricate irrigation system all households must create for their farms. Kylie will be staying with a family in the village of Alchi, and is conducting surveys and interviews with surrounding neighbors.
Cedar Farwell (The Sharon Academy, VT) is studying how science and technology can be balanced with the philosophies applied by Buddhist monks in Ladakh. He is spending time experiencing monastic life in Ladakh’s famous Thikse monastery to research how daily practices have changed in the past fifty years. He will then spend two days conducting interviews with NGOs and Buddhist scholars in Leh.
Jake Huston (Leland and Gray HS, VT) is researching responses to the 2010 disastrous floods in Ladakh. He is living with a family in the Solar Housing Colony affected by the floods. Specifically, Jake is studying pre-fabricated housing models given to displaced families and their ineffectiveness due to a lack of consideration of variables such as Ladakh’s unique climate and culture.
Taylor Knoop (East Greenwich HS, RI) is studying the effect educational methods can have on cultural preservation and pride. She is comparing the differences between education in government schools within Leh and the village of Shey, and at SECMOL (where she has lived for almost three months). She is interviewing teachers and administrative staff, and observe classes, including personal interactions in classrooms such as discipline, curriculum models and daily activities.
Simone Labbance (U32 HS, VT) is looking into cross-cultural dialogue techniques to be used at SECMOL. She is interviewing Ladakhi youth to create and implement activities that foster multiculturalism, and that may be used in future VIS programs. She is using a Danish group as a study sample to understand the effects her dialogue activities have on groups visiting SECMOL.
Alana Ziegler (homeschooled, Nova Scotia) is researching the availability of mental healthcare in Ladakh, and how physiological illnesses are treated. She is staying with the Assistant Director of PAGIR (People’s Action Group for Inclusive Rights), an NGO that works with people with disabilities. Alana is interviewing practitioners of local hospitals to further understand the situation for mental health patients in
Cross-cultural dialogue at SECMOL
The VISpas, SECMOLpas, and SECMOL volunteers participated in a cross-cultural activity called the Triangle of Values Collage, an activity I learned at the School for International Training in Brattleboro and decided to lead here as part of my exhibition on cross-cultural dialogue. In the activity, each participant received a triangular piece of paper on which s/he wrote—in English and their mother tongue—their three most personally significant values and decorated the triangle. Then, using English as a common language, the participants matched the edges of their triangle with people who shared the same main values until everyone’s triangle fit into the collage.
The activity illustrates the universal values people across cultural lines share. SECMOLpa Nema says “It was really good… [especially between VISpa and SECMOLpas] because it show[s] that we all have same values like… compassion, kindness, education.” VISpa Taylor agreed that the collage shows commonality, but also acknowledges that it exposed some cultural differences of value. She illuminates, “not one VISpa wrote education as a value, while nearly every Ladakhi did.” Taylor continues to say, “It is important to acknowledge differences to understand them, and it helps to bring us together, creating a tighter community.” She believes that values are “a very individual thing, but every individual works together with other individuals to create a community and the culture of that community.” This activity is an important cross-cultural activity that also builds community and teamwork, as everyone works together to fit the triangles into the collage.
The activity was really fun, because it involved all the SECMOLpas and VISpas in a creative and productive way. Fitting all the triangles together was like a puzzle with many possible final outcomes. Having never completed the activity with so many people, I was unsure of how well it would work, or if it would work at all. The triangles fit perfectly. It would be so cool to do this with everyone in the entire world.
--Simone
The activity illustrates the universal values people across cultural lines share. SECMOLpa Nema says “It was really good… [especially between VISpa and SECMOLpas] because it show[s] that we all have same values like… compassion, kindness, education.” VISpa Taylor agreed that the collage shows commonality, but also acknowledges that it exposed some cultural differences of value. She illuminates, “not one VISpa wrote education as a value, while nearly every Ladakhi did.” Taylor continues to say, “It is important to acknowledge differences to understand them, and it helps to bring us together, creating a tighter community.” She believes that values are “a very individual thing, but every individual works together with other individuals to create a community and the culture of that community.” This activity is an important cross-cultural activity that also builds community and teamwork, as everyone works together to fit the triangles into the collage.
The activity was really fun, because it involved all the SECMOLpas and VISpas in a creative and productive way. Fitting all the triangles together was like a puzzle with many possible final outcomes. Having never completed the activity with so many people, I was unsure of how well it would work, or if it would work at all. The triangles fit perfectly. It would be so cool to do this with everyone in the entire world.
--Simone
Saturday, April 16, 2011
Education in Ladakh
The following excerpt was written by Taylor Knoop of East Greenwich High School. After having visited a local private school in Leh, Taylor writes........
I walk into the hall which is already crowded with four hundred students dressed in red and blue uniforms. My eyes are slow to adjust to the darkness, making the large room feel immense. I don't recognize the sticks right away. I settle into my seat, whisper "Jullay" to the young boys in front of me and pull out my camera, ready to begin my first fieldwork.
Part of the VIS experience is to complete an independent study, or exhibition project, which includes a research paper, field work and a presentation. I have chosen to study education in Ladakhi, comparing the government schools to SECMOL, the school I have been staying at for the past three months. There are so many variables involved in education here, ranging from language to teaching methods to displine to self confidence. My first fieldwork is at Lamdong, a private school hosting almost 2,000 students. Today some of the older students are debating the pros and cons of science in Hindi, one of the four languages they are taught.
My eyes are drawn to the stage, where ten students sit, poised with confidence. Above hangs a banner declaring "World Health: Hindi Debate." I listen intently, not able to understand anything, but impressed by the ability of these students to think quickly on their feet. Occasionally Detchen, a science teacher/friend, whispers in my ear, roughly translating the discussion.
Suddenly my attention is pulled away from the stage and down to my feet, at the young boy leaning on my backpack. A man in blue is walking towards him and the boy is covering his face, leaning over and trying to hide. I am unsure of what just happened, maybe that he had been talking to his friend but I was too absorbed to notice. Now the boy is crying "No! No! No! Don't take me, take him!" as he points to his friend. Clearly he knew what was going to happen, while I sit in shock.
The man comes up and gave him several swift kicks before grabbing his arm, pulling the boy down the aisle even though he is still sitting. Reaching the front of the rows the disciplinarian points to a seat, dictating that the boy must go there. The boy does not move quickly enough so the older man slaps him across the face several times before practically throwing him into the spot.
Caroline and I are in shock, completely taken off guard. Suddenly the poised students on the stage are not interesting enough to hold my attention and my eyes sweep the room. Once, twice, three, times I see similar events. I can't even catch every time as they occurr across the room. It varies depending on the disciplinarian - sometimes the student is dragged down the aisle, other times hit with the wooden sticks, sometimes just slapped by a hand or maybe their ear is twisted until the student is almost screaming.
You can see a short video on my Facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1830836503720&comments&set=t.1624605998&type=1
I walk into the hall which is already crowded with four hundred students dressed in red and blue uniforms. My eyes are slow to adjust to the darkness, making the large room feel immense. I don't recognize the sticks right away. I settle into my seat, whisper "Jullay" to the young boys in front of me and pull out my camera, ready to begin my first fieldwork.
Part of the VIS experience is to complete an independent study, or exhibition project, which includes a research paper, field work and a presentation. I have chosen to study education in Ladakhi, comparing the government schools to SECMOL, the school I have been staying at for the past three months. There are so many variables involved in education here, ranging from language to teaching methods to displine to self confidence. My first fieldwork is at Lamdong, a private school hosting almost 2,000 students. Today some of the older students are debating the pros and cons of science in Hindi, one of the four languages they are taught.
My eyes are drawn to the stage, where ten students sit, poised with confidence. Above hangs a banner declaring "World Health: Hindi Debate." I listen intently, not able to understand anything, but impressed by the ability of these students to think quickly on their feet. Occasionally Detchen, a science teacher/friend, whispers in my ear, roughly translating the discussion.
Suddenly my attention is pulled away from the stage and down to my feet, at the young boy leaning on my backpack. A man in blue is walking towards him and the boy is covering his face, leaning over and trying to hide. I am unsure of what just happened, maybe that he had been talking to his friend but I was too absorbed to notice. Now the boy is crying "No! No! No! Don't take me, take him!" as he points to his friend. Clearly he knew what was going to happen, while I sit in shock.
The man comes up and gave him several swift kicks before grabbing his arm, pulling the boy down the aisle even though he is still sitting. Reaching the front of the rows the disciplinarian points to a seat, dictating that the boy must go there. The boy does not move quickly enough so the older man slaps him across the face several times before practically throwing him into the spot.
Caroline and I are in shock, completely taken off guard. Suddenly the poised students on the stage are not interesting enough to hold my attention and my eyes sweep the room. Once, twice, three, times I see similar events. I can't even catch every time as they occurr across the room. It varies depending on the disciplinarian - sometimes the student is dragged down the aisle, other times hit with the wooden sticks, sometimes just slapped by a hand or maybe their ear is twisted until the student is almost screaming.
You can see a short video on my Facebook page at:
http://www.facebook.com/video/video.php?v=1830836503720&comments&set=t.1624605998&type=1
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
April Fools
All week we worked to dig the foundation for a community hall in the village of Ursi, a small hamlet of the larger village of Wanla. The village had lost the original community hall in the floods that effected Ladakh in August. From Tuesday to Friday we had worked to dig a foundation by hand into the hillside, and on Friday morning we were starting to set stones for the foundation when construction came to a halt.
Dorje, a villager digging in the farthest trench to the west called for everyone to stop, that he had found something. Everyone dropped shovels, rocks pick axes and plumb lines and ran to the trench. There he showed us what he had hit with his shovel. Bones.
Complete bedlam. Dorje instantly told Jon Mingle we needed to move the site. “All the way there ,” Kunzes translated, pointing up the hill. A furious Jon began arguing with Dorje, as two Meme-lays sank to the ground and began praying forgiveness to the spirit of the disturbed person at the same time telling Dorje that it was ok, we will ask forgiveness, move the grave and go on with the project. Dorje screams that no, we cannot do that, it is terrible luck. Then he tries to leave saying he will have nothing to do with this. John grabs him, makes him sit down. Everyone is yelling. The Meme-lays are praying. The tuft of hair and shattered jaw are lying in the trench.
“We have to move it?! YOU HAVE TO BE KIDDING ME!” Jon is yelling at Dorje, as Kunzes proclaims
“Everyone must pray forgiveness! The meme-lays say so.”
“Kunzes, what is the prayer?”
“Well, basically… ‘spirit of the remains we have come here to the place where you rest and disturbed you. Forgive us. We are under you- we are your slaves.’”
“That’s what we should say?”
“Yes.”
“Alright. Let’s do this. Everybody, get in the trench and pray!” Nate tells us. All nine of us somberly clamber into the trench, deeply concerned and slightly annoyed at this cultural turn of events. Heads bowed, we begin our ‘Om mani padme hums’ and personal prayers of forgiveness. The eyes of the villagers are on us, and I know that we are doing everything we can to be respectful, but I have to wonder if it is enough since we have just unburied one of their dead ancestors. I am running all this through my head when Jon lifts his head from prayer and says
“Alright guys, that’s enough. Especially because it’s April Fools!”
We are all screaming and the teachers are running from us, and the meme-lays are laughing. My little old meme-lay, Tundup, as innocent as could be, praying for the jaw of a yak and making us look like fools. Damn good planning. My hat’s off to the teachers and the villagers who plotted that. When I came for lunch my Achay-lay and Ama-lay were giggling. This morning leaving that village, those sweet people who shared their homes with me this week, I thanked them not only for welcoming me into their homes, but for sharing their stories, letting me hold their children and chase their animals, but also for helping in the best April Fool’s prank I have ever been the victim of. And my Ama-lay laughed and put a hand on my cheek and asked me to come back in Ladakhi. I couldn’t understand her words, but her smile, up to her eyes, I could understand. That is a language that transcends culture and brings together all people. So does a good laugh.
Moya
Friday, March 11, 2011
STRAIGHT to the top!!!!!!
We are told there are two ways up the final mountain pass, straight up or the long winding way. Were not talking a modest incline it was to be our highest summit of the trek. So without much of a hesitation 6 of us headed for the straight shot in Tashi’s words we chose the “adventure”. The beginning steps were deceivingly easy I was thinking this will be no problem we’ll make it up there sooner than we know it. But as I kept climbing the oxygen around me felt like it was depleting with every step, my leg muscles ached, my heart felt like it was beating to one of the Ladakhis odd techno songs that they love so much., and even as my lungs burned and eyes water as I looked to the snow covered top of the mountain I have never felt so happy to be braced against the steep slope of a mountain in the Himalayan mountains. As our efforts continued the sun was covered by a massive snow cloud that made the surroundings around us look exactly like fresh piece of white paper, and when I looked down the bottom of the mountain I could no longer seen the base and the top was just barley in sight. The effort put into scaling that mountain gave my body a rush of adventure I felt like an arctic explorer and extreme ice climber!
After what seemed like a slow painful process I made it to the top and with a rush of energy gave a victory cry with Taylor cheering by my side. Jake, Cedar and Caroline had already collapsed into a pile out of exhaustion. At the top it was still so snowy we couldn’t see where we had started but the lack of view didn’t matter we had just pushed ourselves up what seemed like a perpendicular mountain!!! Of course that’s a bit of an exaggeration but have you ever tried to acclimate to high altitudes, it’s harder than I expected and makes trekking a whole different experience! When the rest of the group made their way up to join us we had a giant peanut butter and paratha feast! I can tell you one thing that was the best peanut butter I have ever tasted!!!!!
---katrina
After what seemed like a slow painful process I made it to the top and with a rush of energy gave a victory cry with Taylor cheering by my side. Jake, Cedar and Caroline had already collapsed into a pile out of exhaustion. At the top it was still so snowy we couldn’t see where we had started but the lack of view didn’t matter we had just pushed ourselves up what seemed like a perpendicular mountain!!! Of course that’s a bit of an exaggeration but have you ever tried to acclimate to high altitudes, it’s harder than I expected and makes trekking a whole different experience! When the rest of the group made their way up to join us we had a giant peanut butter and paratha feast! I can tell you one thing that was the best peanut butter I have ever tasted!!!!!
---katrina
Om.
I have always been a mountain girl. So as I switch the lenses of my sunglasses from rose to polarized black down in the valley, I am already measuring the mountain in my head. The sun is shining, and after three days of trekking I am ready for this. Starting up the nearly vertical access to the pass, I don’t mind that I am last. I don’t like being in the middle of the pack. If I can’t be first, I’d rather be last. It is a meditative walk, and I settle into the same silent self reflection I have always used while hiking at home.
About halfway up, clouds roll in. Weather really does come quickly in these mountains. I don’t mind the sudden fog, or the feeling of granulated snowflakes pricking at the layer of Dermatone on my face. I just keep going, even though it gets more difficult.
I am fairly sure that I can tell you what it feels like to reach your VO2 max. There comes a certain point at altitude, when you can feel every muscle in your body, and all you want to do is to stop. But every time you do stop, you have to start again. And when you start again it is sooo much worse. You know what it feels like to be alive. Really alive. In the midst of the pain I realize I am grinning like an idiot.
The entire hike, I had my dad’s scarf. It was tied onto my backpack, and I held either end over my shoulders in both hands, anchoring myself, and reminding myself to keep track of my breath. How to describe that hike to you… it’s so difficult. Those of you who ski at Smuggs, it was like walking across Catwalk, looking down to the right at the moguls below and looking up to the left at the slope that looks so very vertical. The only difference is that you’ve got no skis on. Gravity is not your friend, and there is about a three to six inch layer of granulated powder on top of desert sand for your feet to make purchase of as you switchback up the mountain.
When I reach the peak, I am psyched. In the JFK airport, I bought a Power C Vitamin Water. It was the last purchase I made in America. Somehow I held out on drinking it for a whole month. I had the brains to bring it on trek with me. It turns out to be the best tasting Vitamin Water I have ever had.
After half a Cadbury Fruit and Nut bar, a few Good Day cookies, and a Jhapati with peanut butter for lunch, I turned to my pack for what I had purchased for this very moment.
The prayer flags I had purchased while on a walk through Hemis the day before were an excellent idea. With a little help from the pony guides and our guide Tashi, my prayer flags were soon strung up across the pass. Just leaving them there like ordinary prayer flags is not my style. Instead I pulled out a few pens and asked the rest of the VISpas to write “their prayers” on the flags. This is a Ladakhi tradition, writing one’s prayers with a pen on the prayer flags so the wind will carry and spread them. We generate a whole lot of good Karma standing in a row on this mountain, on top of the world. I chose a yellow flag, for friendship, and proceeded to decorate it as a thank you to everyone who helped me to get here so I could climb that mountain. On the flag, I write the names of friends and loved ones who have been on my mind lately and all my wishes for them. Hopefully those winds will make their way down off that mountain, and around the world and find each of you whether or not I wrote your name.
Standing, writing on the flag, I think about every time I have climbed Mt. Mansfield. There is a small plaque in the top recognizing human triumph. Here, a mountain is conquered with a fountain of color and prayers for the world. Across the valleys, flames of color rise and dance in the wind like signal fires in an ancient time, if only to signal peace. As always the only thing to do is to stand still and breath it in. After a moment I collect the pens and my backpack and continue down the other side of the pass to Ang. I am last again, but I don’t mind. This is how I like it. After all, I’ve always been the last kid at the craft table and how many people can say that they have decorated prayer flags on a peak of the Himalayas?
About halfway up, clouds roll in. Weather really does come quickly in these mountains. I don’t mind the sudden fog, or the feeling of granulated snowflakes pricking at the layer of Dermatone on my face. I just keep going, even though it gets more difficult.
I am fairly sure that I can tell you what it feels like to reach your VO2 max. There comes a certain point at altitude, when you can feel every muscle in your body, and all you want to do is to stop. But every time you do stop, you have to start again. And when you start again it is sooo much worse. You know what it feels like to be alive. Really alive. In the midst of the pain I realize I am grinning like an idiot.
The entire hike, I had my dad’s scarf. It was tied onto my backpack, and I held either end over my shoulders in both hands, anchoring myself, and reminding myself to keep track of my breath. How to describe that hike to you… it’s so difficult. Those of you who ski at Smuggs, it was like walking across Catwalk, looking down to the right at the moguls below and looking up to the left at the slope that looks so very vertical. The only difference is that you’ve got no skis on. Gravity is not your friend, and there is about a three to six inch layer of granulated powder on top of desert sand for your feet to make purchase of as you switchback up the mountain.
When I reach the peak, I am psyched. In the JFK airport, I bought a Power C Vitamin Water. It was the last purchase I made in America. Somehow I held out on drinking it for a whole month. I had the brains to bring it on trek with me. It turns out to be the best tasting Vitamin Water I have ever had.
After half a Cadbury Fruit and Nut bar, a few Good Day cookies, and a Jhapati with peanut butter for lunch, I turned to my pack for what I had purchased for this very moment.
The prayer flags I had purchased while on a walk through Hemis the day before were an excellent idea. With a little help from the pony guides and our guide Tashi, my prayer flags were soon strung up across the pass. Just leaving them there like ordinary prayer flags is not my style. Instead I pulled out a few pens and asked the rest of the VISpas to write “their prayers” on the flags. This is a Ladakhi tradition, writing one’s prayers with a pen on the prayer flags so the wind will carry and spread them. We generate a whole lot of good Karma standing in a row on this mountain, on top of the world. I chose a yellow flag, for friendship, and proceeded to decorate it as a thank you to everyone who helped me to get here so I could climb that mountain. On the flag, I write the names of friends and loved ones who have been on my mind lately and all my wishes for them. Hopefully those winds will make their way down off that mountain, and around the world and find each of you whether or not I wrote your name.
Standing, writing on the flag, I think about every time I have climbed Mt. Mansfield. There is a small plaque in the top recognizing human triumph. Here, a mountain is conquered with a fountain of color and prayers for the world. Across the valleys, flames of color rise and dance in the wind like signal fires in an ancient time, if only to signal peace. As always the only thing to do is to stand still and breath it in. After a moment I collect the pens and my backpack and continue down the other side of the pass to Ang. I am last again, but I don’t mind. This is how I like it. After all, I’ve always been the last kid at the craft table and how many people can say that they have decorated prayer flags on a peak of the Himalayas?
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