Nepal Trip Post #1

My expectations never warn me about color, but my memory is always eager to show it to me. Arriving in Kathmandu, I was not so awed by the mountains or forests or cars or anything else I expected. Instead, my eyes were held captive by every glimpse of color that winked at them. The red brick buildings, the blue sign or awning of a passing shop, and the dark brown wood skeleton of a once living, not yet crumbled house. I didn’t expect the colors to interest me so much, but they did because I remembered them. I remember the colors from Nicaragua, Cambodia, and Tanzania, and I remember how they manifested in the same form: the vibrant life of an impoverished city. I believe that people back at home, sometimes including myself unfortunately, often hear poverty and think of a dull, dreary existence, and yet that is never the case. On the surface, yes, many of these people live with very few material things to call their own, and nearly none of the luxuries we enjoy. In 2015, the universe decided to take more from the people of Nepal. No one talks about it, there are no signs advertising rebuilding and restoration plans, but everywhere, there are crumbled streets and crumbled homes. Despite all this, it is always the color that reminds me that though it may be a hard life, it is still life. Everyone everywhere is moving, selling, buying, and building. Here, life must go on, and the Nepali people have no choice but to live life.

As I sat in the Class 7 room – a bare cement, 250 square-foot room with one whiteboard – observing the lesson on the first day, I wrote one phrase in my notebook next to my notes. I told myself, rather I begged of myself, “Don’t forget this feeling.” For a small, wonderful time, I only stared and grinned as I watched the students so intent on learning what they could about health, of all subjects. I smiled because I could not contain a fierce excitement within me. I simply wanted to teach. Where this came from, I am not sure. I remember being in the classes in Tanzania, terrified beyond belief. Certainly, this was a change for the better, and I intend to use it. I feel my teaching has improved drastically from my last trip to this one. Nevertheless, I have yet to be satisfied with my teaching. From what I see of myself and what I have been told. I have much to work on. These faults are and will constantly be one of my top priorities because my students rely on me getting better and because I know I can do it. I was reminded at some point of a proverb that many teachers know that goes back ages and ages, and is one of the foundations of education: teaching is hard stuff. That’s right, contrary to popular teenage belief, teaching requires time and effort in preparation. Because of this, I know I cannot let myself relax until I know I have over prepared for every lesson, and when I see the results in action.

Finally, and most importantly, I must make an earnest attempt to describe the Nepalese people. I have to say, there is not a single student in the entire school who is not incredibly bright, which is part of the reason why I was so excited to teach. I simply get the feeling that everyone here is very smart, but I only wish I were more persistent and had the knowledge to connect with the people I meet. With the students, I feel I am inching closer to this goal. Just as in Tanzania, I learned here that energy put into the class directly effects the energy you receive. My favorite part of each day is when I get carried away with teaching something, most of the time it is something I dreaded in my own education, seeing the interest and excitement in the eyes of my students, and letting this snowball of excitement carry the time away. Today, one of my favorite games to play was a smiling game. When I had the chance, I just looked at a few students and smiled, and I would soak in the light that radiated from the smiles and laughter I got in return. I feel myself getting sucked in closer and closer to these kids.

So far, Nepal has not failed to show me kindness and eagerness, and I have surprised myself in responding to such an environment. I still have much I want to learn about this place and its people, and I have many improvements to be made in my teaching. All I know is that I want to do better, and I want more.

Nepal Blog #3

Over the short span of my life, I, like many, have had the opportunity to meet people from far and wide of all types and styles. At karate tournaments when I strike up a conversation with another competitor, we inevitably get to the common question, “Where are you from?” I hear all kinds of responses, from Michigan to Arizona and even Alaska. When it’s my turn, I say “Colorado,” and I very humbly explain, “you know, only the best state ever.” If my new companion is from the great state and of course already knows of its status, I tell them I’m from Vail Valley, “You know, only the best place ever.” Though I say it jokingly and I mock it here, I actually do take great pride in my home. When I think about it, I could not have been luckier than to have lived and continue to live in Eagle, Colorado.

Of the ways that growing up in Eagle has affected me, I don’t deny that the most obvious way is through appreciation for the outdoors. My parents weren’t so fortunate to have grown up surrounded by the great outdoors; my mom grew up in the city of Milwaukee and my dad grew up partly in Santa Fe and partly in various cities from LA to Boston. They encouraged us to go outside, and we would go on family hikes and camping trips, but the real love for nature came from the fact that we could do these things in the first place. In Eagle, you can mountain bike, fish, kayak, and hike while a 30-minute drive either East or West will allow you to raft, ski, snowmobile, or climb a mountain. I don’t claim I do all of these things, but the point is that someone can do any of these things if they want, and the people of Eagle are always doing so. The street that I live on at one point included my brothers and I plus about 13 other kids about the same age all with the same affection for being outside.

On summer nights, we would play baseball, tag, hide-and-go-seek, and any other game we could think of until our parents called us home, and when we felt more adventurous, we could go for a bike ride or a hike up on the nearby hill. Our Nintendo Wii sat mostly neglected at home. I’m not saying I don’t play video games, but I feel that growing up here has created a tendency in me too long to be doing something and that there is always something better and more fun to be doing. I’ve also grown a liking towards physical work and the rewards of creating something that you can see every day.

The perks (and pitfalls) of a small town also come with growing up in Eagle. In a town where everybody knows everybody and your mom happens to be possibly the only person in town with one leg, it is nearly impossible to go somewhere where you don’t run into someone that you know or, more likely, your parents know. Often hearing the phrase “Now, are you another Witt boy?” developed my ability to not only respond to questions but also keep a conversation going with actual adults. Most kids in a small town know how this feels and most, though not all, will tell you that they don’t always find it so hard to have mature conversations with people 20, 30, or even 60 years older than themselves.

I could continue to talk about how living in Eagle is different from living anywhere else on the planet, but the truth is that I probably actually couldn’t tell you exactly. I’ve been able to reflect this far on the biggest things that support who I am because Eagle is so unique, but I have also been lucky enough to have traveled to a multitude of places and seen the different areas that people call home. When I try to examine the bigger picture, I see that though Eagle is small and different, there is a lot more it has in common with nearly everywhere else on the planet than it contrasts with them. In realizing this, I believe that there is a great lesson to be learned. No matter how different you may think you are from another, you can find much more than you share, and helping our communities should be viewed as such.

Nepal Blog #2

Though overshadowed by the presence of India and China, Nepal has long had a rich history dating thousands of years ago, but much of it has been tumultuous and chaotic. Rising to power sometime in the fourth or fifth century, the Licchavi dynasty was the first well-known dynasty to rule the area, marking the beginning of an era characterized by Hindu leaders ruling non-Hindu people. Despite this, Nepal flourished as a major intellectual and commercial center between China and Tibet and India from 500-700 CE. In the 14th Century, the ruling Malla Dynasty imposed strict social and legal Hindu codes on the people for the first time. In the late 18th Century, a small principality, Gurkha, ruled by Prithvi Narayan Shah built a strong army and managed to conquer most of the areas of Nepal, overthrowing the Mallas. The Shah rulers had difficulty in uniting the diverse regions and peoples of Nepal, but by doing so set the foundations of the modern country of Nepal.

The Royal family of Nepal and many of the noble families constantly fought for control over political offices, hoping to gain power and eliminate their enemies. One such family, the Rana family, managed to take control for more than a whole century from 1846-1951. In this time, Britain had gained control over India and posed an overpowering threat to Nepal. Wisely, the Rana rulers negotiated peaceful terms with Britain in which Britain would have a large influence in Nepal, but the Himalayan nation was allowed domestic autonomy. However, when Britain left India in 1947, it opened the doors for anti-Rana forces to unite with the royal family to overthrow the government and restore the crown. Though the country tried to move towards democracy in the following years, conflict and turmoil persistently shadowed the government, and economic, political, and social peace crumbled throughout the decades. Slowly, anti-monarchy movements and communist groups gained influence in Nepal, and in the early 2000s, Communist Maoist rebels had started a civil war. The government had little success in fighting the growing insurgency, but in 2006, the UN intervened with a peace treaty and tensions slowed down. In 2007, the monarchy was abolished by strong insistence from the Maoist groups. From there until 2014, no solid government could be maintained and no prime minister would stay.

In 2014, Nepal was hit by several major natural disasters including a deadly avalanche on Everest, a landslide, and others that resulted in growing criticism of government response. But none of those would compare the 7.8 magnitude earthquake that struck just north of Kathmandu on April 25, 2015. Overall, the earthquake and its aftershocks would claim 9,000 people and injure 15,000-20,000 along with destroying cities, temples, infrastructure, and resources. Thanks to their already fragile economic state, the country has been barely able, if at all, to recover from the catastrophe.

Pressured by the crisis in 2015, a new constitution, prime minister, and president were accepted in September and October of the year and today still hold their positions. The president, Bidhya Devi Bhandari, is Nepal’s first ever female in the position, a major step towards equal rights for women. In 2017, Nepal held successful general elections for local and national offices for the first time in 20 years, and in 2018 a convergence of the two parties of the president and prime minister resulted in one Nepal Communist Party. However, the fact of the matter is that Nepal is still one of the least developed countries in the world due to its physical and political isolation and its history of turmoil.

Nepal lacks the resources and infrastructure to develop economically, and every aspect of the nation suffers because of it. Much of Nepal’s trade is importing basic materials such as fuel, construction material, fertilizer, and others. Its resources are few and far between with relatively small deposits in various minerals, but even if its minerals were numerous, the country lacks the transportation necessary to maximize its potential. Much of the people in Nepal are in agriculture of rice, corn, and wheat, and the industry constitutes much of Nepal’s exports. However, yields are very low due to ineffective practices and lack of irrigation, improved seed, and fertilizer. Especially in the mountains, towns experience a lack of food between harvests, and, again, the difficulty of travel in the mountainous country makes supplying rural areas very challenging and often unsuccessful. The government also struggles in securing the general health of its people, with diseases like malaria, tuberculosis, cholera, and typhoid still prevalent. Infant mortality rate sits at an average of 26 infant deaths/1000 live births, and the maternal mortality rate is 258/1000 births. For reference, the United States had an infant mortality rate of 5.6/1000 and a maternal mortality rate of 23.8/1000. Horrifyingly, about 27% of children in Nepal are underweight compared to 3.5% in the USA. Can you imagine more than one in four children in an entire country not getting enough of the right food to eat? But, like most poverty-stricken places, education is one of the most paramount factors of the success of the nation, and the education statistics for Nepal reflect the current state. About 76% of males are literate and 53% of women are literate. Not only are these statistics extremely low, but they also show a huge gap in education rights for men and women. Right now, the people of Nepal are having to live with the consequences of their history and the wrath of nature, and the consequences have taken their toll.

Despite all of this, hope is certainly not lost for the struggling nation. Many have seen potential in the river systems of Nepal, and it is likely that if the government were to take advantage of it, they could create a strong hydroelectric industry to provide Nepal as well as India with plenty of renewable energy. In the lower plains region known as Tarai, fertile soil and favorable weather create the potential for agricultural growth if and when Nepal gains the ability to utilize the technological advancements of the modern day. Nepal also provides the gateway to the great peaks of the Himalayas including Mt. Everest, and many hope tourism will continue to grow and bring in more money. Finally, the future holds a lot of promise considering three-fifths of the country’s population is below the age of 30. The only catch is that the government needs to take responsibility for educating this maturing generation. Improvements can even be seen now, as the average number of years for children to go to school is at 12 years for male and female, and 13 for females only. In the face of seemingly insurmountable odds, Nepal shows potential for a future where all of its people live better, happier lives as long as the people of today work towards that future.

Unfortunately, the reality is that the hopes of Nepal mean almost nothing without the future leaders of the country. Nepal, just like any nation, needs to educate its young generations so that they can take charge of the problems and crises that face them. The problem is that the governments of developing nations rarely can or will pay much attention to education. And this is why the work of CGA is so crucial. Thanks to CGA, I won’t just be helping to rebuild the homes still devastated by the earthquake in 2015, I will be helping to lay the foundations of the future for many families to come through teaching. Having all the opportunities to learn here in the United States, I am excited as ever to once again have the opportunity to improve the education of those who desperately need it to break the cycle of poverty. I can’t hope to remedy the past of Nepal, but by doing what I can now, I hope that I can help them build their future.

Nepal Blog #1

This year, I am very excited to say that I will be joining CGA for my fourth consecutive service trip. I am now 15 years old and a sophomore at Eagle Valley High School. Eagle has been my home my entire life, and I cannot believe all that it has given me. Right now, I am the only child at home, but for eleven years of my life I grew up with two older brothers, Ben and David. As much teasing and taunting we give each other, I know that they are one of the biggest reasons I am who I am today, as well as my parents. My brothers have been, and continue to be, my biggest role models, as they are now each at a military academy. My parents have also been inspirational. My mom came from not so fortunate beginnings in Milwaukee, was diagnosed with cancer before graduating college, and beat the disease at the sacrifice of her leg. Despite this, she has achieved more than can be written in a few sentences. My dad is an elementary school teacher who has taught me about anything and everything that puzzles me. I have always been an avid athlete, whether it’s football, lacrosse, baseball, soccer, track, or karate. The ones that have stuck with me through the years have been football, lacrosse, and karate. However, this year I have given up both football and lacrosse in order to compete on a higher level for karate and hopefully make the Junior National Team. So yeah, karate means a lot to me. I also like to play piano, draw, and teach karate.

This year, I am getting to go to the place of books and legends: Nepal. I have always wanted to go to Nepal as a fascination with the land and the mountains. The people, culture, and history is like no other on this planet: the birthplace of Buddha and with it Buddhism along with the traditions of Hinduism, the many different groups and languages that inhabit the country, and the tumultuous and violent political past. I am very excited to see this country and all there is to it, and I am even more excited to learn more of what I don’t know. All these reasons take the back seat to the main reason why I am on this trip, or any trip for that matter. I have the powerful urge to continue helping people. And not just any people, but those who have nearly nothing in terms of material possessions relative to me. People who have lived their lives in poverty and distress have all the reason but do not deserve in the slightest to be ignored. Through the political turmoil that Nepal has seen and the devastating earthquakes of 2015, the Nepali people deserve anything we can give. I don’t know if I realize exactly how lucky I am, but I am starting to get the picture. I plan to use all that I have been given and everything that I already have inside me to provide some kind of support and help for Nepal.

Tanzania Blog July 30th

There are three teachers that I have gotten to share preparatory class with. Their names are Madame Mariam, Miss Catherine, and Miss Dyness.  On the morning of day one of teaching last Monday, these three people could not have been more intimidating. Intimidation dissolves, however, when you sit down to have a legitimate conversation with someone, and as it turns out, Miss Catherine hides quite the tale. Originally from Kenya, she moved to Arusha as a toddler, where she was raised by a man that she calls her brother, but is just the only person who was there for her. Her mother had died, and the father was unable to leave Kenya. In Arusha, young Catherine flew through primary and secondary school and teacher training and began teaching three years ago. She is in her early twenties now. When I first heard this, I needed a few moments to take it in. First of all, Miss Catherine obviously has an extremely high intelligence level. To have finished schooling at such a young age is quite the accomplishment, much more in an absurdly flawed education system like Tanzania’s. Also to have such a turbulent childhood as well is almost unbelievable. I am beyond impressed, and I think that this instance proves the message that potential can come from anywhere, it just needs opportunity.

            By little conversations here and there, I have learned a little bit about the other teachers and staff. For example, Mr. Geoffrey, the most outgoing character at the school, showed us photos of himself in uniform when he was in the military doing splits and other impressive feats. I never would have guessed that he had this background, but I’m glad I know now. Today we visited the home of one of the sisters that helps cook and clean at LOAMO who also has two kids that attend the school. Her home was definitely nicer than other homes we have visited. She told us that she and her husband had saved up money for 15 years, ten of which she spent at LOAMO, just to have enough to move out of the mud home they were living in previously. I love to hear these stories because it puts the people with the essence of the school.

            With the level of development of the human race, you would want to believe that our ability to all live together peacefully is just as advanced. Look at the current political and societal state of many places around the world, and you find we are far behind where we should be. This weekend we visited a town not far from Arusha called Mto Wa Mbu, Mosquito River. The most unique thing about this place is the people, not the mosquitoes. More than 120 tribes live in Tanzania, and in this small town, 120 different tribes are represented. To put this in perspective, less than 20 tribes live in Mozambique, but they have been in constant conflict. Meanwhile, in Mto Wa Mbu, not a single drop of blood has been shed over tribal conflictions. Not only that, but they all shared the same mutual respect for each other. I know I talked about this in my earlier blog, but it is worth repeating to the entire world one million times. WE CAN GET ALONG. Going deeper into this subject, a particular story we heard was about the Makande people. They lived in Mozambique until civil war forced them to leave with no food or water for miles and miles on end. They were welcomed by Tanzania and its people and peacefully and happily carried on their ways in Tanzania even after war ended back at their home. They now continue their tradition of carving wooden sculptures like the one they gave to the first president of Tanzania. This town teaches us that people are people. Why hurt someone over dumb differences when they share 99.999% of your own DNA? I don’t know if humans will ever live in harmony together, but I know that this is not our best.

Earlier this week, I was asked how I’m going to take what I’ve learned here and put it into practice at home. One of the biggest things I have discovered is how hard the students work here. The education system is so messed up that all the kids have to do their absolute best in order to have any chance at a good future. For this reason, I’ve also seen how important education is to the people here; putting it before anything else, even their own health.  Seeing all this, I tie it together with my own perspective. I don’t believe in past lives or reincarnation, so I ponder why we are born into the lives we have. What did I do to deserve being born in the United States to family and friends that care for me and get me anything I want? Likewise, what did any of these students do to deserve being born in Tanzania into such difficult situations? In my option, nothing. It’s what we do in life that tells us if we deserve it, and we have to work hard to earn it. Because the kids and people here have worked hard enough to earn countless lives of happiness, I sill remind myself every day to try to earn the one I have been given by being the best possible me. Overtime, maybe others will catch on, and just maybe something will change.

Tanzania Blog July 27th

By the end of the school day on Tuesday, I had begun to observe some differences between LOAMO School and educational practices of the U.S.A. When thinking of a developing country like Tanzania, one would not first think about well-dressed people, but that is exactly what you get in Tanzania. I have to say, I was embarrassed of my outfit when I first saw the teachers and students. The male teachers wear nice pants with dress shirts underneath patterned sweaters. The female teachers wear long skirts, nice shirts, and cardigans/sweaters with colorful scarves. Meanwhile, there I was, with my khakis and plain old polo shirt. I wish to impress the teachers with my teaching, but I know that it must start with the way I present myself. As a side note, I must also mention that Mr. Geoffrey, a teacher, wore a bright blue and black suit that he actually rocked. The students all wear grey pants or skirts with grey button-down shirts and red ties, finally topped off with blue sweaters.

Obviously, the school mandates the student’s uniforms, but it’s not just the uniforms that amaze me. Every single student from kinder to class 7 hasn’t a speck of dirt on their pants. Not a single student has a messed up collar. To me this sends a loud, clear message. I hear the 316 students saying how proud they are to be getting an education. We cannot begin to comprehend how important school is to these students. I think back to school at home, and I realize how ungrateful my generation is. We show up to school in sweatpants, short-shorts, tank-tops, and other clothing that says “I don’t really care to be here.” It makes me sad that our society is this way, but the LOAMO school inspires me and fills me with the drive to be the change I wish to see in the world, as Mahatma Ghandi professed, even if it is just dressing proudly.

            In every one’s life, there are the epiphanies, the “a-ha” moment when the paradigm shifts. As is the purpose, my experiences with CGA have brought many of these moments, regarding the world, poverty, society, etc. On Tuesday, I had a very enlightening       “a-ha” moment. The way that the preparatory class schedule works is such that the last two and a half hours of the day are dedicated to games/songs/stories either outside or inside. Tuesday’s outside time began well enough, but when my teacher gave Finn and me the reigns to the sea of 70+ children, I panicked and had no idea what to do. Still scared, we made a weak attempt to teach them a song. I was embarrassed like most people would be standing in front of others singing about funky chicken, but this is when I made the breakthrough. I realized, and not without a thanks to Karlie, that it wasn’t working because we weren’t into it. I discovered how incredibly important the teacher’s energy is, not just for my class at LOAMO in Arusha, Tanzania, but for education as a whole. As a teacher, I have to be the most overly absurd, excessively energetic person in the room. I have to put aside any personal fears or humiliation and just go “full send.” My dad is a 5^th grade teacher at Red Hill Elementary School in Gypsum. Every Friday he dresses up in a tie-dye shirt, a Green Bay Packer cheese tie, and some kind of weird pants. It confused me a little bit until I had my breakthrough on Tuesday. Now, I completely get it. If he is not excited at school, how can he expect his students to be excited? If his students aren’t excited, how can anyone expect them to learn? With this new realization, I feel that I may be getting closer to achieving the goal I had set earlier this week.

At LOAMO, there is rarely a kid who does not smile or laugh all day. But behind these smiling faces are stories of hardship and struggling to survive in a country where the average income per day is $2.50 USD. On Wednesday afternoon, I went on a home visit to hear the unique and tragic story of two of LOAMO’s students. Enock and Ebenezer are brothers in class 3, Enock, 13 years old and Ebenezer, 14.  From what I hear, they are both exceptional students, but they are quiet and have nothing about them that implies a rough home life. However, when we walked into the twelve-by-twelve foot room that was their house, it was clear that they had it harder than most of us can even imagine. No running water, no electricity, no bathrooms. Only a bed, a couch a table, some dishes, and a small kerosene stove.

Their father is living some 300 km way, leaving them only with their loving mother, Lillian. It is hard, though, to care for your children when you are 100% blind. Yes, Enock and Ebenezer’s mother is completely blind. Blinded by a disease at the age of two, she got a primary school education (up to class 7), and continued to live on the same street until she met the boys’ father. Soon after the boys were born, the father left them, only to come back to take them away ant the ages of three and four. He raised the boys as cow herders, with-holding them from an education, and beating them if they so much as mentioned school.  Seven years later, they returned to their mother and lost all contact with their father. As one might expect, their mother has not been able to get a job, and the boys are not old enough to work. Where do they get money? The only way they survive is by the generosity of the rare passerby or friends from their church. The boys are fed at school and their mother makes dinner when she can. For this family, having food is as uncertain as the weather. It crushes my heart to think about how hungry they must be for almost the entirety of their lives, but no one hears a peep out of them. So the next time you feel that the odds are stacked against you, think about Enock and Ebenezer and their silent fight against starvation while they continue their education.

In this past week at LOAMO school, I have seen my confidence soar, met new and interesting people, and been bought down to Earth by the horrible realities of the world. At the beginning of the week, I said I wanted to end each day with excited and happy students. With a new-found attitude, I find this easier to do, but I know I can still improve. I also said I wanted to make connection. In keeping with this, I’ve worked up the courage to listen, ask questions and listen to the stories of a few of the teachers, and I am still looking to start long-lasting friendships. This week, though I have been doing the teaching, I feel I have been the one learning.                                                                                                  

Tanzania Blog July 23rd

We are in the middle of Africa. Arusha, Tanzania is the middle of Africa. Or, at least, that’s what Rasta John told us during our tour on Saturday. He explained that the city is right underneath the equator, halfway between Cape Town and Cairo. I believe him, not because I trust that he is right, but because I feel it. It is not simply a geographic status to me, but a quality experienced only by being here. It is seen only by the eyes of someone gazing at the foothills of Kilimanjaro; it is heard only by the ears of someone joining in on a Maasai tribal dance as a song is sung in unity. Not meaning to take away from Toto, but words are simply insufficient.

            I believe we can all learn something from the people of Tanzania. First of all, I don’t know of another language with more ways to say “Hello, how are you?” And here, they want to hear you say “good”, because they actually care. As Nay, the “African Oprah” put it, Tanzanians have much more time, so there is always time to find out how someone is doing. As we walked through the buildings where disobedient slaves were killed on a daily basis, and stood where they were hung, I learned about an incredible part of Tanzanian society. They are forgetting their history of slavery. No, not forgetting in the sense of leaving it out history all together. The people are letting go of the anger and pain, while still honoring the events that took place. Tanzanians are proud to be who they are, and they are beginning to build a new, exciting future for themselves. This is what amazed me the most about the people in the first few days, and I have a growing admiration for them.

            Sunday was one of the most extraordinary days of my life. As we drove through the dust towards an actual Maasai village, I felt a jumble of feelings of in anticipation. When we arrived, those feelings were met with awe, wonder, curiosity, and everything of the sort. The houses were beautifully simple. The cattle, sheep, and goats were…well, disgusting, but intriguing. The people were different in many ways, but admirable in many more. The children were shy and did not make much eye contact. They had strange medicinal practices, like drinking warm cow’s blood, and men only become men after they are circumcised while being awake at the age of 18. Despite these things that would make many outsiders uncomfortable, I found things that impressed me, such as the fact that the children were given the responsibility of looking after the young animals at a very young age. I was also impressed by the cooperation of the people when catching a cow, making chapatti, or preparing a goat for dinner. Our visit ended with a dance with the warriors, which consisted of singing, dancing, and jumping. For some reason still unknown to me, I was really good at the jumping and became a favorite among the warriors. I think it will take me a long time to comprehend that day.    

            The first day at school was very intimidating. I walked into the Preparatory Class immediately feeling like an alien as the students and teachers stared at me. However, as the day went on, I got myself involved in the class, and I began to relax. The best parts of the day were when all 31 five-year-olds would stand up and sing at the top of their lungs about Chinese people and stomach pains. I have silently promised myself and the teachers that this week I will have the best games and songs for the kids. In the next two weeks, I’m hoping to grow personally to be able to have meaningful conversations with my new friends, and make many connections. In the classroom, I want to end most days with an excited and happy group of students.  I know and look forward to being challenged in order to grow through these goals.