The World Awaits

Sitting on a plane and staring out the small, oval window I feel remarkably distant from the world. As the plane descends, towns emerge from the beneath the clouds. As I and 475 other passengers are rushing towards the ground the towns become closer and more detailed, filling with cars, light posts, and people. And as one last bounce of turbulence hits the plane it touches down and I reenter reality. My gaze drifts from the window to the passengers eager for what awaits them outside of the plane. All of us in that plane were about to enter that seemingly small and far away town. And for me, that town represented this trip- incredibly distant. Leading up to this trip, my head wasn’t focused on it. It was the destination and I was focused on a coexisting journey. A journey filled with a year full of lasts- one last soccer season, my senior prom, graduation, orientation at my future college, and spending one last year with my best friends who have been the center of my life for the past 12 years. And somehow this trip managed to pass me by and all of the sudden it was here. But as I walked into the classroom on my first day it felt as though I was walking down the same old beaten path: knowing the nooks and crannies, where not to step and which ways lead to sure success. It felt like I was coming home.

This trip has now raptured my complete focus. I am addicted to the feeling of being so far away from everyone I know and in a foreign country filled with lush mountains, ornate buildings, and beautiful people- that sensation of exploring the unknown.

My frame of mind during the first day was constantly altering. I had no expectations and was naive as to what would happen next. Nerves wracked through my veins on the walk to school as I stumbled my way through Bhaktapur ducking under poles supporting damaged buildings and avoiding bricks littering the edges of the street from the earthquake that hit Nepal in 2015. After winding our way through the streets we approached the school and the sheer delight that filled my heart as I saw the kids grinning and eagerly waving their hands replaced my nerves; I was ready for what was to come.  

We are two days in and I am already beginning to fall in love with Nepal and the students I am teaching at LISHA School. Each student possesses distinct personalities and talents; it’s a joy to begin to know them since each face tells a story. With each new discovery I feel more connected towards my students inspiring the passion I put into my teaching. Gagan’s curiosity, Krish’s sarcasm, Suzal’s artistic talent, and Neesha’s sly smile are my fuel; fuel for my teaching and excitement for the rest of my summer.

But right now as I am sitting on the roof top of our guest house in Dattatraya square in the heart of the Kathmandu Valley surrounded by mountain ranges I am not focusing on the next six weeks, the past six months, or even tomorrow. I am focused on today and the lessons and experiences that came with it. The high energy of my class creates a stark contrast to the decimated buildings surrounding the school. These students are the epitome happiness. In the midst of the destruction my students and the Nepali people are full of light. I am elated for this light to continue to fill me as I continue to learn from my students and experience the Nepali culture.