Archive for the ‘experiential education’ Category

leave your expectations; bring your patience

Thursday, January 31st, 2008

(I have a new group of Dragons students arriving soon and this was from a note I wrote to them, related to the previous post, that I think continues to provide insight on life in India…)

Tourists always show up in Varanasi and notice I know my way around and ask me the following…

“Please tell us what to do here! We see it’s “sacred” but it’s dirty, polluted, loud, full of trash, we’re constantly bothered by beggars, and there are cows everywhere!”

And I sigh heavily and tell them, “Varanasi isn’t an infatuation, it’s an arranged marriage. And it takes a lot of patience, compromise, time, respect, and humility for your understanding of her to emerge. But once your relationship comes through the fire, the bond is unbreakable and lasts a lifetime.”

Having worked in Dragon’s Administration as the Admissions Director for two years, it is one of my primary jobs to make sure students understand what, “rugged” means.

Rugged does not (just) mean sleeping in a tent in the Himalayas. Rugged means bathing out of bucket with cold water for three months. Rugged means living in a city where there is no electricity for most of the day (still true in Banaras). Rugged means navigating city streets that are FULL of trash and relentless traffic. Rugged is learning how to (emotionally and logistically) respond to the dozen small children who don’t have shoes and pull on your legs and grab your hands asking for food. Rugged is sleeping on hard beds under mosquito nets, but still waking up with bites. Rugged is battling the foreign bacteria of another country and constantly playing your defensive and offensive moves to stay healthy. Rugged is trying to sleep through a city that stays awake through the night – with its thousand temples all ringing and singing through all midnight and sunrise hours. Rugged is learning which bulls are dangerous and need a lot of clearance and finding the right pace to outwalk the water buffalo as the herd walks home. Rugged is sleeping on a dirt floor in your rural homestay and using the bathroom in the appropriate field behind the house. Rugged is coughing constantly on the pollution of a rapidly developing nation. Rugged is staying calm in the middle of a hundred worshipers chanting at a temple. Rugged is helping your rural homestay mother cook over a clay open fire. Rugged is helping your rural homestay sister draw water from a well or plant potatoes in the field. Rugged is coming to acceptance of the fact that EVERYONE will stare and watch every move you (the white foreigner) will make. Rugged is learning how to use a squat toilet the way the locals do. Rugged is about learning what you really need, and can live without, and testing your patience and dedication on the path of what you’re out to understand.

I’m not trying to scare you. But these are all the daily realities of living in India. And I’ll tell you the good news nows: while it starts off tough, every student on my last semester, completely and totally, fell head over heels in love with Varanasi. They each swore up and down that they’d be back, and they each cried as they left their homestays and Varanasi lives. So your patience, your compassion, and your willingness to compromise – they will all pay off; they will open up the secret world of India to you, and in the end you’ll remember that first week with tremendous fondness and a lot of laughter.

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and Merc for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

stepping off the edge together

Friday, September 7th, 2007

I’m currently in Bangkok, Thailand and will be on a plane to Delhi, India this afternoon. I’ll be India for the next four months, three of those during which I’ll be working as an instructor for Where There Be Dragon’s Visions of India semester abroad. My students arrive tomorrow and we head immediately to the Himalayas for a few weeks of trekking and rural homestays – so until I return from the mountains, I will not be able to post or reply to emails. In the meantime, I’ve posted my letter of introduction to my students. I’ll be with back with wordy expansions on all my simple interactions and exchanges soon enough.

Namaste,
sol

p.s. For those who might have noticed, I have, with enormous excitment, upgraded to a digial SLR – the Canon Rebel Xti. *!*

“When you step off the edge of the unknown, you will either find solid ground, or learn to fly.”

Namaste! (Hindi greeting which means, “recognizing the divine in you”)

I’m sure a few of you are starting to get nervous with anticipation. (Hold onto that feeling by the way, it’s an essential and fleeting part of the fun.) And I just want to congratulate you on your courage for already taking the first steps of our travels. I know you haven’t gotten on the plane yet, but just making the decision to step into an unknown world, with eyes and mind open, ready and willing to challenge, define, and redefine your personal reality, takes enormous bravery. I know, from a few years experience leading experiential semester programs abroad, that an itinerary like ours draws the most unique, passionate and adventurous of individuals together.

So I’d like to tell you a little about my own life path (which has had its fair share of both graceful and blundering moments) so that you may see how it has led to a convergence with yours.

After I received my degree from Santa Clara University in the Silicon Valley of California, I moved to San Diego, found a job in an office tower and put nothing less than every drop of my passion into it. I worked 80-hour weeks, slept under my desk on weekends, and quickly became one of the highest paid employees in the company. But after two years of this life, I sat up from my computer one day and realized this; I had a successful job with prestige, an apartment by the beach, a nice car and an income greater than that of my parents combined…and it wasn’t enough. Or rather it was enough. It was too much. I was grasping at the wrong dream, desperately clenching onto the airy and materialistic notions of a magazine dream instead of picking myself up and pursuing my own. And that’s when I learned that sometimes we spend a lot of lives learning not what we want to do, but what we do not want to do. And that’s okay. It’s not important how many mistakes we make, only that we learn from those we do.

So where was I to go? I had no idea. But on an intuitive whim, I caught a clue as to where I could go to find MY dream. So I sold everything I owned, strapped on a backpack and moved abroad…

I spent the first year trekking, chicken-bussing, volunteering and salsa-dancing my way through Central America and the next four years traversing some six continents and forty-something countries: working with the children living in the squatter community in the dumpster of Guatemala, building houses for Habitat for Humanity in Fijian villages, strolling the beaches of Costa Rica at midnight keeping the eggs of Leatherback turtles safe from poachers, fighting off Lantana from overtaking the native plant species of Eastern Australia, giving massages to the crippled limbs of those left at the Mother Teresa House of the Destitute in India, preparing the gardens for feeding an orphanage in the Himalayas, teaching English to refugee monks who escaped from Tibet, planting trees in a reforestation effort in Coastal Ecuador, living with an “adopted family” in Colombia and, most recently, finishing the second segment of a 1,700-mile walking pilgrimage across France, Spain and Portugal.

Over the course of those years, attending the prestigious “University of Life,” I found my path and my passion in “service learning” and in what Dragons calls in its mission statement, “experiential education,” which simply means — using the world as our living classroom and our real experiences and interactions within it as the lesson plan.

So having found my own life-driving inspiration abroad, I quickly realized that the only thing that matched my excitement in making my own reality-quaking revelations was watching, guiding, and sharing that process of “travel-induced-enlightenments” with others — specifically, with young, enthusiastic and inspired people like you!

I’ve now lead five experiential semesters abroad: one through the South Pacific (Australia, New Zealand and Fiji), one through Central America (Guatemala, Honduras and Costa Rica), one through Northern India and most recently, Dragon’s Himalayan Studies and Guatemala Semesters. Each of these semesters (and more specifically, each of the students) has re-confirmed that this is exactly where I love to put my life energy. I can tell you what my favorite thing is about leading these trips without hesitation: Because of the fifty students I have led on these adventures, every one of the has since told me, “my semester abroad was the most influential, inspiring and life-changing experience of my life.” And I’m just so thankful and excited to have the opportunity to play part in such transformative experiences.

You know that feeling when you look up into the night sky and fall dizzy in questions of our place in that space? We’ll I’ve personally dedicated my life to seeking and understanding that mystery of being. I don’t fancy finding answers. I find my fancy in the questions themselves. And I want to reassure you, that unlike the formal classroom, this journey is much more about the questions (yours, mine, ours) than the answers. Of all the things on the packing list, the most important thing you can remember to bring with you on this trip — is your sense of Wonder.

This trip to India will be my fifth; of all the countries I’ve travelled, none has ever held my captivation, intrigue, respect or love like the one within which we’ll be adventuring together in only a few short weeks. When people ask me why I love India so much, I often answer, “because it’s like walking on the moon.” Saturated in color and culture, I have yet to find a country more intense, shocking or mysterious. Had you asked me, four years ago, “What is it that calls you to India?” I could only have shrugged, having no words to describe my desire to visit a place I knew nothing about. The “call” to “go to India” is usually indefinable, based heavily on intuition and an unexplainable “urge” to experience a world that you’re certain will turn yours upside down. So if this is what you’re feeling and just the word, “India” sparks your curiosity or makes your heart leap for unknown reasons, then you’re not alone.

A whole new world is about to open up to you, and along with it, an entire spectrum of emotions and experiences. Travelling in India is not an easy or comfortable experience. There will be times when you’ll be nervous, and times when you’ll be thrilled, times when you’ll be freezing cold, and times when you’ll be melting hot, times when you’ll be in awe, and times when you’ll be in disgust, times when you’ll be homesick, and times when you’ll forget where you came from, times when you’ll be angry, and times when you’ll practice compassio
n, times when you’ll feel lonely, and times when you’ll feel you’re part of a new family, times when you’ll be exhausted, and times when you’ve never felt so alive. It’s best not to go with our first inclination to label these experiences as “good” or “bad” but simply recognize each experience for what it is — an experience. For ironically enough, it’s rarely the memory of a comfortable couch that we treasure, but exactly those experiences that push us out of zones of comfort and put us on cold and sharp ledges, that transform our lives and perception of it. And don’t worry, for a lot of our trip will be spent supporting each other through these rollercoasters of experience and emotions we’ll ride together.

“When you’re wandering, you bump into experiences and people. Nothing is routine. Nothing is taken for granted. Everything is standing out on its own, because everything is a possibility, everything is a clue, everything is talking to you.” – Joseph Campbell

And so, along with your headlamps, journals and hats, please remember to bring your open mind, curiosity and rhetorical questions. I’m eager and excited to meet each of you in person!

*****

Late Note: I’m struggling with my new camera (it’s a high learning curve from program to manual modes!)….but I have a few new India pictures to share.

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and Merc for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

waking up; looking out

Friday, June 29th, 2007


(Photo courtesy of friend, co-worker and fellow travel blogger, Tim Hare.)

Hi friends.

Obviously I have been busy.

Today I walked in the door from two weeks spent in the California Sierras conducting an orientation for our 20 summer abroad programs that just departed for different developing countries around the world. It was a blissful two weeks filled with some of my best friends in the world and if you’re interested in seeing a bit of it, I did pull out my camera on occasion: Dragon’s Summer Orientation 2007.

Today, also, my life takes on a new pace. It’s the first day that I get to begin to look forward instead of down at my immediate; I’m leaving for Peru in two weeks. And for India in two months. And for Africa in 5 months — so you can probably easily imagine the relief and excitement with which I jumped out of bed with this morning.

Having not written for weeks, I’m so excited to compose, but in the meantime just wanted to post a quick happy birthday note to my boss, to whom I am ever grateful for creating an organization within which my life passions and career can walk alongside each other, hand in hand…

Dear Chris Yager,

I think everyone in this world has a dream – an inkling, a suspicion, a hint of hidden passion, an intuition – of something really great they could do with their life; of something that would be the catalyst not only for their individual evolution, but also a catalyst to ignite the catalysts of countless others towards a widespread movement and cumulative revelation.

Most people ignore this seed of personal potential: Bury it too deep in denial. Ignore it, giving precedence to matters of feigned importance. Maltreat it, in an effort to keep it contained. Plead ignorance for fear of its potential. Whatever the excuse, most people on this earth live with their true potential forever haunting their heart.

So I have to congratulate you. You are 40!

Now, I can see how such a number could inspire a little fear or regret for a person who has clocked those years into a machine, wasted them away on mindless activity, or spent them abiding the demanding voices that drowned the sound of those haunting his heart.

But for a man who has spent every day of his 40 years of life working tirelessly and passionately, despite betrayals, financial losses and at the expense of great personal sacrifices, all to care for the seed of a dream – well those years are only an amazing achievement! They are forty years of living in alliance with a mission that whispers, but speaks above all, intentions. I hope by now, that peace is creeping in. The peace of an unhaunted heart. The peace that settles in with the realization that you have made no exceptions, given into no excuses, put your complete faith in your dream, to live the only life you could have lived with no regrets and all honor.

And like every dream of right intention; yours is not only succeeding, but also setting fire to the hearts of all those touched by it. Like the best of dreams, yours is not only a goal, but a tool via which other dream seeds are dug, exposed, and held up before the noses of others who knew it was there, but couldn’t quite find or see it. Your dream teaches others how to care for theirs; how to find it, develop it, care for it, believe in it and take those first steps towards achieving it.

I’ve heard that our society is shit and, at the same, manure. And I think this is true. Perhaps our current condition is quite rotten – but at exactly the same time, it is also ripe for change and growth. And there are few people ready to accept the dirty work of tilling that land. But I do believe that’s exactly what you’ve jumped to the task of doing, and encouraged, by your example, an eager crew to do the same. Your faith is contagious. We see the dream, because it’s ours as well. But I can’t thank you enough for the dozens of years you’ve diligently put into prepping and preparing this adventure; directly facilitating the dream chasing of the dozens that work one-one-one with you, who then facilitate the same for the hundreds within their rein, and the thousands that those who have been touched, then, touch in turn.

If you haven’t already, I hope today, on you’re 40th birthday, you’ll – just for a minute – relax in the well-earned peace of an unhaunted heart, take pride in 40 years of a life fully lived, and throw your hands up in the air and feel the faith that has overwhelmed your life, being channeled through you to the (truly) countless numbers of those affected, moved, and inspired – by, within, and beyond – the seed of a dream that you fostered till it grew on its own.

Congratulations and thank you.

with love and admiration,

sol

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and Merc for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

out of area

Tuesday, June 20th, 2006

*Sorry; I’m currently camping in Sierras of California conducting a leader orientation for the 26 programs we’re about to send around the world. I’ll update as soon as I’m back!*

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and MercuryFrog for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

emotional cartwheels

Thursday, March 23rd, 2006

I’ve got the question, “But what ARE you doing right now?” doing cartwheels in my inbox so I’m going to step out of my meditations on moments passed and give a quick personal update.

Colorado is a state I had never been to before I stepped off the plane three months ago and found a house, work, friends and routine to intertwine these elements. In this way, this particular little plot of land and people hold adventures no different than those I’ve found along my pilgrimages through South American or Asian continents.

I spend a lot of time at work; my “job” is super challenging, but my daily task is getting hundreds of young Americans ready and hyped for truly authentic experiences in developing countries (from Bolivia to Senegal to Mongolia). I get people equipped for the experience that they will eventually sigh over and stammer, “it changed my life.” I assist the world’s richest 1% with becoming emotionally and physically prepared to bathe out of a bucket and live in a nomad tent with yak headers in rural Tibet. And do I think this plays a role in changing America? Yes I do. I would have a lot more respect for our petty little president if he at least had been a guest in the house of an Afghani family before mindlessly putting his machine to the task of destroying them. I do believe the key to realizing any peace in this lifetime will be the world’s realization that every “enemy,” stripped of distance, skin color and ignorance, is a sibling. It’s quite a task, but I put myself to it – one teenager at a time.

I walk to work everyday and usually I walk home too. I went to a writing conference all of last weekend. I take salsa-dancing classes every week. I registered for French classes last night and I’m in conversations with the local art school on when I can begin my drawing classes this spring. I detest the TV, but have spent a lot of hours this week at the feet one of my favorite teachers watching a 6-hour series on, “The Power of Myth,” by my favorite “JC” guru/prophet/missionary, Mr. Joseph Campbell. Also on my desk I have more texts on myth, symbolism, archetypes and image; all words that I consider keys to my, yet to be discovered, inner mystery. During my lunch hour I’m reading more Herman Hesse. Before bed I’m reading more Rumi. And Amazon has just sent me the pile of photography books I’ve ordered with the purpose of adding new corners to the creativity of the visions I capture and share via camera on this website. I have been adventuring at sunrise and set to shoot, but my new digital camera outputs quality and resolutions to which my computer blinks, “no memory,” with a blank text box. As is often the case, I need to delete in order to make room for the new. And as soon as I put the tired to rest, I will post some new pictures as well as some rough drafts of the podcast that I am brainstorming to begin posting on my next adventure across borders.

And, of course, yes, I will be adventuring cross-continents again soon. I have three quotes right now in my inbox for ATW (Around The World) tickets; another walking pilgrimage (across Southern France this time, and yes, that’s what the French classes are for) and a more stationary stint in South India are priorities 2 and 1 (in that order) on the itinerary. I won’t be leaving till the end of summer, but that is but a bat of Time’s eyelashes. In the meantime, I’m feeling fully charged and challenged, which is all I ask of life on a daily basis. Despite the illnesses around me, I have not been sick since I’ve been here and I’m back to needing only 6 hours of sleep, which are both signs that my body and mind are subconsciously feeling very healthy and happy.

It snows in Boulder all the time. And I’ve never seen anything so beautiful as the white blanket being knitted in the sky, at the hands of the snow gods, right before my eyes. The next day the sky is clear and blue and it’s 70 degrees. The next day it snows again. This is Boulder. And the rapid evolution of weather emotions and experiences matches my character perfectly.

It snowed like this yesterday. On my walk home from work I pulled on every branch of every tree I passed to watch the white confetti spring into the air and fall like magic (always tends to do) on my path. At a street signal, one particularly large nest of snow on a tree didn’t spring so much as it did dump…on my head. And me, and the man in his car stopped at the red light, silently laughed out loud together.

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and MercuryFrog for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

city funhouse

Saturday, January 28th, 2006

Oh. He’s looking at me funny. Yep. He’s cocking his head and scrunching up his nose. It’s definitely coming. Uh huh…here he goes!

“Did that hurt?”

I play dumb. I know exactly what he’s referencing because it’s the same question I’ve encountered five times in two days. I’m baffled by my new citizenship of a freak-dom that I’ve never known to exist on the coasts. And I’m not exactly sure why this is my response, but I play dumb.

“Did what hurt?”

“That nose ring,” he says and points at my face.

There’s something about having a finger pointed at my face that makes me feel subconscious and so I full-stop the conversation with, “Nope. Hey, this portabella mushroom is excellent.”

“Is it?” he asks.

A bit of a strange response, I note, to get from the waiter that has just served me the dish I’m complimenting. This time I cock my head at him, to which he responds…

“Do you have vegatitis?”

Okay; that’s not a direct quote. He actually asks me if I’m a vegetarian. But there’s something in the curve of his question mark that insinuates that vegetarianism is something one picks up from an infested mattress. And by the amount of time it took for me to find the single meat-less option on a 6-page menu, I hypothesize that not many of “my type” are found in these parts. But I recognize his innocent curiosity because I’ve gotten the same line of questions from my niece and so I decide to drop my, “I’m-entitled-to-oddness” act and answer affirmatively and with sincerity.

Having rarely wandered so far from the West Coast (where nose rings and rabbit-food habits are but hardly noticed), I’m still surprised when he shakes his head in incredibility and asks, “But why?”

“Well, because I try to live a life free of both direct and indirect violence,” I answer honestly. Recognizing that this statement is a deep well to simply dip into without commitment and consent, I give the comment a minute to settle. He peers over the edge, squints his eyes, does a quick estimation of depth, and instead shrugs and turns to tend to his other tables.

I return to my book and copy from it a quote into my journal, “There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn’t count.” – Rabbit

I glance at my watch and wonder briefly again when I became I watch-watching person. “When I started needing to catch flights on time,” I answer myself. I pull out my company credit card and put it on the table.

The waiter returns. He picks up the card and reads the inscription under my name. “What’s a WTB Dragon?” he asks.

I think this is very funny. But I smuggle my laugh because I don’t want him to think I’m laughing at him. “It’s who I work for,” I answer.

“Ah. Business woman,” he says and walks away. But the impression of his assessment is left standing in my face…

“What? Business woman? Me?” I stand back, aghast and…insulted? Hum. I am wearing a long petticoat. And black slacks. And I have a laptop with me. And a rental car. And I DO have a company credit card. And I am traveling for work. Wait. Could it really be? Am I a business woman?!?

These questions are all swiftly spinning in my head as I sign the receipt, gather my belongings and head to the women’s bathroom. But when I push through the swinging door, the bickering in my head is suddenly deafened; outspoken by the volume of music that, for some reason, is blaring in stereo sound only in the restroom. I don’t consciously choose to step into the handicapped stall, but when a terribly joyful 90’s song, to which I’ve danced around many a campfire and know every word, comes on, I do consciously use every inch of the stall space to my stepping, sliding, spinning and singing advantage.

Quiet relieved with my unanticipated and unsuppressed dancing outburst, I wash my hands and mind of doubt and exit the bathroom.

“Businesswoman; That was funny!”

———————————————
*sol bows her “namaste” and gratitude to World Nomads Travel Insurance, ThinkHost and MercuryFrog for their ever-supporting roles in the realization of her dream.

art of alchemy

Thursday, November 17th, 2005

3 times stranded without cover in sudden rainstorms. 3 expeditions sent to “get help” to pull our minivan out of the mud. 20+ group efforts to push or pull our car out of muck-ruts. 6 snapped towropes. 1 dead engine. 30 miles of ankle-to-knee-deep mud. 700 mosquito bites (averaging 50 per person plus Raphael’s 200). A fair number of unmentionable words sworn. 1 jaundiced leader suffering from a (as of now) confirmed case of Hepititis A. 1 nail-less big toe. 11 pairs of squishy boots. 4 expressed emotional breakdowns (unknown private ones). 4 mysterious rashes. 1 mule stuck in the mud. 1 dead tarantula. 1 hour walking in the dark with 1000 sets of shiny spider eyes reflecting the light of our headlamps. 2 tarps short of covering the hammocks and cooking fire from a sudden downpour…

2 tarps suddenly found to save our dry clothes (and souls) from another drenching. Numerous hysterical laughs when one could do nothing with the situation but crack. 11 of the best Snickers bars ever tasted. 8 hours of the most exhausted, and thus sound, hammock sleeping. 1 graceful surrender for the sake of safety. 1 sunrise at the top of a pyramid at the ruins of Tintal with views of the jungle-covered temples of Mirador and Nakbe peeking above the canopy of the Peten rain forest. Many sightings (and soundings) of both spider and howler monkeys. 5 AMAZING local trek guides with unlimited energy, enthusiasm and knowledge of the forest and its animal and plant inhabitants. 100’s of enormous bright blue Morpho butterflies flaunting their easy flutter as we sludged along. 2.5 oranges per person, per day. 11 bodies surrendered fully and finally to the mud. Dozens of unexcavated ruins left by ancient Mayan civilizations lining, like small rolling hills, both sides of our trail. 5 girls laughing so hard they were mistaken for monkeys. 2 royal “throne” jungle outhouses. 1 ballpoint mustache. 1 impressionable sight of a full chicken bus coming to our tow-rescue. 2 video remakes of Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” 11 excited hoops of hurray when the minivan was finally yanked out of the mud. 1 angel sent from heaven with a 4×4 pick-up truck to save us from being stranded. 1 unforgettable experience scarred from skin to soul.

Dear Students,

Our last day was, by any Hero’s definition, “epic.” And although it felt much longer than the 24 hours that a day usually confines itself to, dizzy with disbelief of each unfathomable moment as it fell upon us, I somehow lost the time to communicate my congratulations to you.

I suppose we each have a point where we (think) we can take no more. And to my (perhaps sick, yes) delight, I witnessed many of you reach that point this week. But my satisfaction comes not from seeing you suffer, but from witnessing you each successfully limbo what you thought to be your bar of ultimate endurance. Tears were cried, words were sworn and the existence of hell realms on Earth were certainly questioned. But it is only through these soul-shaking and reality-challenging encounters with our limits that we have the opportunity to push our walls in life an inch out, up, higher and lower; creating some space (in the box of Life that limited perception creates) for us to sigh, breathe, play and grow in confidence.

And isn’t it such a peculiar and relieving confidence that is inspired, not by conquest, but by surrender? Just when we think we have reached the wall of our will, the unfathomable pushes us right through it and we suddenly find ourselves on the other side with the realization that the walls of what we think we can do in this life are actually illusions. And suddenly we are laughing out loud at the all the unnecessary time we spent dreading, worrying, expecting, defining, avoiding, denying and hesitating…

Remember on our first day when we set out in our dry and clean clothes? We took enormous care to scout and then hurdle ourselves to each dry island along the path. We employed machetes to hack down what we thought would be a faster track. At each rest stop we took twigs and scraped the mud from our boots. We cringed at each raindrop that landed on our dry clothes and threatened an entourage behind it. And with such desperation we dug through our bags for our expensive Gortex jackets when the clouds grew dark. But isn’t the rain one to humble even Mr. Gore himself? For as we clearly saw with Storm Stan, is there anything that Rain can’t eventually drench, uproot, sweep away, flood, or famish? Despite what any REI clerk will claim, in the ring between Gortex and a tropical downpour, poor (but expensive) breathable plastic never stood a chance.

And thus we were drenched.

But, really, how often do we humans get truly, thoroughly and without resistance, wet? Looking at my own history of umbrellas, ponchos and shelter-sprints, I’d say I’ve spent a good portion of my life skirting, swerving and scowling at the sky’s natural showerhead. So imagine my surprise when, after observing the unrelenting rain go from saturating my “protective barriers” (2 minutes, by the way, Mr. Gore) to forming an impressive drainage system along the natural divots and divides of my skin, I realized (or remembered?) that the only completely impermeable and breathable material on this Earth is skin. And eyebrows and eyelashes work together as an impressive windshield-wiper team. And, (oh blessed surrender to my 7-year old self!), stomping in knee-deep mud to the tune of a full volume storm is invigorating and liberating!

“Surrender” has gotten such a terribly undeserving bad name in our dualistic-minded society. (But then so have Surrender’s friends “emptiness”, “minimalism”, “death”, “stillness”, “different” and “darkness” – but wouldn’t that be an essay.) Yet in my life I continue to learn that it is not my conquests that make me stronger, but the experiences that humble me in beauty, bigness or recognized brotherhood. Contrary to all I was socialized into believing, it’s the events and visions that make me feel smaller that make me feel more comfortable in my proper (little) place in this world. It’s the ocean, the sunset, the full moon, the dark sky, the pyramids, the jungle, the thunder, the lightning, and yes, a full pummeling by a storm that make me realize just how small I am — and just how “okay” it is to be small.

So we did not reach our original destination. But we did push our inner and collective endurance to heights and horizons that make the pyramids of Mirador look small. Many of us have admitted that some of our most challenging days on this semester, and in the field of Life, took place on that muddy little path this week. But it was certainly an experience worth the lesson of coming to know (intimately) the depth of the mud that we can successfully trudge through. And isn’t it exactly the swamps of life that allow us to walk with renewed appreciation for the ease of the drier paths in Life’s more maintained and manicured parks?

In Buddhism, a “bodhisattva” is one who is enlightened, but consciously chooses to stay on Earth to “participate in the sorrows of the world with joy.” When I look back at the epic tale of adventure that we wrote last week, it’s the picture on the last page that I most remember. It’s the vision of you all — knee deep in the mud, covered in dirt, car broken down, sun setting, mosquitoes swarming, hours away in either direction from any shelter — and smiling. And not just smiling, but laughing, dancing, singing, and sighing at the sight of the near full moon putting a fantastic sunset (and epic day) to bed; participating with joy in a situation that would by most definitions be defined as miserable.

So congratulations to you on an ace on your first exam in Alchemy. For you have all shown yourselves as promising Alchemists — whose art is only that of changing obstacles into chal
lenge, the horrific into epic, the unknown into adventure, misery into magic, metal into gold.

*****

comma over-dosed (COD)

Thursday, July 21st, 2005

Do the intestines spewing out of my gut look suspiciously like sausages?

Kind of curious that the closest I get to meat is when it sits on my abdomen broiling in a broth of cheap hair gel and red dye.

And, yes, that’s a very special recipe for “Evisceration Simulation” straight from the kitchen cabinet recipe-rolodex of Wilderness Medical Associates (WMA).

That’s right. Eight 10-hour days later and scoring a 96% on the final exam, I am now an official and card-carrying WFR! Wilderness First Responder).

So what exactly does that mean? Well, it means that I encounter all the same things in the field (abroad) that I used to, but now I have fancy names, acronyms and systems to define, slang and organize it all: Heart attack (Myocardial Infarction)? Bee sting allergy (Anaphylactic Shock)? Hit on the head (Increasing Intracranial Pressure)? Numb, white, hard hands (Full thickness Frostbite)? Drinking too much water without enough food (Hypoglycemia)? Displaced knee cap (Patella Dislocation)? Bat bite (High Risk Puncture Wound)? Fell on your back (MOI Spine)? Nasty cough and nausea in Lhasa (High Altitude Pulmanary Edema)? Twisted ankle (Unstable Fifth Metatarsal Injury)? Scalded by the fire (Partial Thickness Burn)? Have no fear (assuming you’re more than two hours away from definitive care), for a WFR is here!

I’m not sure what the retention level is on this material, but as of this minute, I know how to swathe it, sprint it, sling it, inject it, NSAID medicate it, elevate it, body board it, motory skills test it, relocate it, TIP (traction into place) it, clean it, irrigate it, bandage it, disinfect it, uncork it, examine it, document it, triage it, resuscitate it, evacuate it, assess it, and in general, sustain it (wow, are you ever sick of my commas), till someone who actually knows what they’re doing can get their hands on it.

It might sound complicated, and indeed it was a lot of material, but actually it was all pretty intuitive information. In fact, I now have this sneaking feeling that I’ve somehow been swindled in life for not being taught all this really practical and user-friendly know-how about the human body (my body) before now. Why this curriculum isn’t included in high school basic ed or as a general prerequisite for parenting, is a question I’m left pondering. I feel like I just completed a Life 101 course and learned super useful skills that might one day actually save myself or someone in my company. (Now if only Apple offered similar courses for its laptops; mine is obviously limping around; and wow, I’m off subject.)

Anyway. If you like to learn and study, enjoy exploring the facilities of the human body, spend any time in the back country, have your ADD under moderate control (it’s a lot of class time), and can imagine yourself enjoying being a bloodied drama queen, then I can’t more highly recommend the WFR course to you.

*****

A few *new* photos in the WFR Course (Leavenworth, WA), Dragon’s Staff Retreat in the Sierras, and California Photo Albums.

*****

(world photogallery)&nbsp(about sol)&nbsp(some stories)&nbsp(LeapNow.org)&nbsp(travel disclaimer)&nbsp(packing list)&nbsp (photogallery guestbook)&nbsp (blogger profile)&nbsp(World Nomads Travel Insurance)&nbsp(WhereThereBeDragons.com)

seeking, sharing, stepping

Saturday, January 29th, 2005

Judging by the number of, “how do you afford to travel the way you do” questions in my inbox, I probably have not made it very clear what I actually “do” for a living.

I, with enormous enthusiasm and passion, seasonally lead what are called “service-learning” and “experiential education” semester abroad programs. These programs usually entail guiding a small group of 17-21 year-olds for a three-month learning excursion through one or more countries. The semesters are far from “tours” and are usually deep learning adventures that include intensive language study, living in homestays with local families, volunteer service work, environmental conservation work, in-depth cultural study, and some challenging outdoor excursions and long-distance trekking. The programs and people I work with are of the highest integrity with the most impressive of missions.

My super exciting news is that I’ve recently joined the team of WhereThereBeDragons and will be departing this week to lead their Spring 2005 Himalaya Studies Semester through India, Nepal and Tibet. *!!!*

How’s this for a mission:

“Through expertly guided and incomparably honest introductions to the cultural and physical landscapes of developing Asia and Latin America, and through Experiential Education that stresses empowerment of the student, Dragons strives to cultivate cultural awareness and sensitivity, opportunities for personal growth through physical and emotional challenges, and a commitment to the communities through which we travel, providing young adults with a richer understanding of themselves, and of the social and physical worlds around them.”Where There Be Dragons Website

And so it is this “work” that perfectly facilitates the execution of my own personal mission statement, “to tirelessly seek and share inspiration.”

I recently sent out a letter of introduction to my new semester students and decided to post it here also as it’s quite appropriate for all those that share my journeys with me…

******

From: sol

To: The Students of Dragon’s Himalaya Studies Spring Semester 2005

Namaste!

“Namaste” is the Hindi greeting of “hello” and literally translates to, “I recognize the divine in you.” Beautiful way of introduction, yes? And perfectly befitting for my introduction to you, as I’m certain there is something both mysterious and divine that has called us each individually to join in this shared adventure together.

I’m sure a few of you are starting to get nervous with anticipation. (Hold onto that feeling by the way, it’s an essential and fleeting part of the fun.) And I just want to congratulate you on your courage for already taking the first steps of our travels. I know you haven’t gotten on the plane yet, but just making the decision to step into an unknown world, with eyes and mind open, ready and willing to challenge, define, and redefine your personal reality, takes enormous bravery! I know, from a few years experience leading experiential semester programs abroad, that an itinerary like ours draws the most unique, passionate and adventurous of individuals together.

“When you throw a stone into the water, it finds the quickest way to the bottom of the water. It is the same when Siddhartha has an aim, a goal. Siddhartha does nothing; he waits, he thinks, he fasts, but he goes through the affairs of the world like the stone through the water, without doing anything, without bestirring himself; he is drawn and lets himself fall.” – “Siddhartha”, Hermann Hesse (On the list of suggested reading.)

You’ve already been drawn to and cast your stone, and self, into this adventure. And Siddhartha’s advice is sound; The less we try to take with us (physically and mentally), the smoother the ride. With unattached bodies and minds we’ll fall most gracefully into this experience.

Now I’d like to tell you a little about my own life path, which has had its own graceful and blundering moments, so that you may see how its led to a convergence with yours.

After I completed and received my degree from Santa Clara University in the Silicon Valley, I moved to San Diego, found a job in an office tower and put nothing less than every drop of my passion into it. I worked 80-hour weeks, slept under my desk on weekends, and quickly became one of the highest paid employees in the company. But after two years of this life, I sat up from my computer one day and realized this; I had a successful job with prestige, an apartment by the beach, a nice car, a pretty boyfriend, and an income greater than that of my parents combined…and it wasn’t enough. Or rather it was enough. It was too much. I was grasping at the wrong dream, desperately clenching onto the airy and materialistic notions of a magazine dream, instead of picking myself up and pursuing my own.

And that’s how I learned that sometimes we spend a lot of lives learning not what we want to do, but what we do not want to do. And that’s okay. It’s not important how many mistakes we make, only that we learn from those we do.

So where was I to go? I had no idea. But on an intuitive whim, I caught a clue as to where I could go to find MY dream. So I sold everything I owned, strapped on a backpack and left the country…

I spent the next four years travelling over six continents and through forty-something countries: working with the children living in the squatter community in the dumpster of Guatemala, building houses for Habitat for Humanity in Fijian villages, strolling the beaches of Costa Rica at midnight keeping the eggs of Leatherback turtles safe from poachers, fighting off Lantana from overtaking the native plant species of Eastern Australia, giving daily massages to the crippled limbs of those left at the Mother Teresa House of the Destitute, preparing the gardens for feeding an orphanage in India, teaching English to refugee monks who escaped from Tibet, and, most recently, planting trees in a reforestation effort in Coastal Ecuador.

Over the course of those years, attending the prestigious “University of Life,” I found my path and my passion in “service learning” and in what Dragons calls in its mission statement, “experiential education,” which simply means — using the world as our living classroom and our real experiences and interactions within it as the lesson plan.

So having found my own life-driving inspiration abroad, I quickly realized that the only thing that matched my excitement in making my own reality-quaking revelations was watching, guiding, and sharing that process of “travel-induced-enlightenments” with others — specifically, with young, enthusiastic and inspired people like you!

I’ve now lead three experiential semesters abroad: one through the South Pacific (Australia, New Zealand and Fiji), one through Central America (Guatemala, Honduras and Costa Rica) and one, just last spring, through Northern India. And each of these semesters (and more specifically, each of the students) has re-confirmed that this is, indeed, exactly where I love to put my life energy.

You know that feeling when you look up into the night sky and fall dizzy in questions of our place in that space? We’ll I’ve personally decided to dedicate my life to seeking and understanding that mystery of being. I don’t fancy finding answers. I find my fancy in the questions themselves. And I want to reassure you, that unlike the formal classroom, this journey is much more about the questions (yours, mine, ours) than the answers. The most important thing you can remember to bring with you on this trip is your Wonder.

A whole new world is about to open up to you, and along with it, an entire spectrum of emotions and experiences. There will be times when you’ll be nervous, and times when you’ll be thrilled, times when you’ll be freezing cold, and times when you’ll be melting hot, times when you’ll be in awe, and times when you’ll be in disgust, times when you’ll be homesick, and times when you’ll forget where you came from, times when you’ll be angry, and times when you’ll practice compassion, times when you’ll feel lonely, and times when you’ll feel you’re part of a new family, times when you’ll be exhausted, and times when you’ve never felt so alive.

As Buddhism prescribes, it’s best not to go with our first inclination to label these experiences as “good” or “bad” but simply recognize each experience for what it is — an experience. For ironically enough, it’s rarely the memory of a comfortable couch that we treasure, but exactly those experiences that push us out of zones of comfort and put us on cold and sharp mental and physical ledges, that transform our lives and perception of it.

“When you’re wandering, you bump into experiences and people. Nothing is routine. Nothing is taken for granted. Everything is standing out on its own, because everything is a possibility, everything is a clue, everything is talking to you.” – Joseph Campbell

And so, along with your headlamps, journals and hats, please remember to bring your open mind, curiosity and rhetorical questions. And remember;

“When you step off the edge of the unknown, you will either find solid ground, or learn to fly.”

I’m eager and excited to meet each of you!

Your Himalaya Studies Spring ‘05 Semester Guide,

sol

(world photogallery) (about sol) (some stories) (LeapNow.org) (travel disclaimer) (packing list) (photogallery guestbook) (blogger profile) (World Nomads Travel Insurance) (WhereThereBeDragons.com)

The Ex-extrovet Travelling Incognito

Sunday, February 15th, 2004

I always keep on mental-hand one really laugh-worthy idea. This way, anytime I start feeling annoyed, hurried or hurt, I can whip it out and smile the stressor away.

And my new imaginary clown is the following;

My parents suspect that I am in the CIA.

NO JOKE.

My older sister recently leaked the information to me. I could talk more about this….but do I really need to? It’s the perfect one-liner. I’m thinkin’ that I’m gonna start whispering into my watch and bustin’ out the last of my Korean on the phone next time someone calls. Oh, yes. I could have fun with this…. ;)

Making other misconception headlines, I recently got another call from a friend asking if I was getting married. Now c’mon. Really. Me? Married!? Yet another one-liner. The “isle” is the one path in this world that I have no intention of treading. I’ve got other cliffs to jump.

Okay…so this picture from the photogallery was probably a bit misleading. It was the result of a running joke between myself and a friend who’s living vicariously through me and my travels as I do through her and her married life.

But really, the only rocks I want are the kind I can climb. :)

And finally, a new disclaimer for this site.

I recently took the Meyer’s Briggs personality test again. And although my results have been steady and solid (ENTJ) for over ten years, my final results show that I’ve been foolin’ myself all along. Turns out I’m an INFJ/INTJ (“Counselor/Mastermind“). The biggest news being that although I’m the first person on the dance floor at party, I’d be just as happy doing my jiggy in a cave. Yes. The introvert in me has emerged! And although she still salsas in bank lines and rolls in the dirt with street kids, she’s living in her own world for which she can be quiet reserved with sharing permissions. And in that little world of mine, according to my “type analysis,” I also quite actively integrate the imaginary into my reality…

Wait, wait. I can hear people laughing. Okay. Okay. So YOU already knew that! BUT I DIDN’T! That’s the very thing! I see, hear and feel things (and then I write about them), that I thought other people just couldn’t be bothered with. But as I’m starting to suspect, perhaps I AM a CIA agent. Perhaps I AM muddling fact with fiction and submitting biased reports of my worldly probes!

So there it is; my disclaimer. What you read on this site, which is by ALL and every account, in PERFECT alignment with the personal truth of the author, may very well be a smorgasbord of fact, fiction and fantasy. But as far as I’m concerned, I’d much rather my life story read like a fairy tale than a dictionary. So disclaimer disclaimed, we continue!

Leaving for India in 10 days and counting!

(One last misperception correction; a few have gotten the odd idea that I’m paying to go on these organized semesters abroad when actually I am the Trip Leader. I actually guide the groups of college students on 3-month experiential learning semesters (community service, environmental conservation work, local family home stays, foreign language study, spiritual self-exploration, long-distance trekking and other adventure activities) for a BRILLIANT company called, LEAPnow.)

Our India Itinerary is as follows…

LeapNow Spiritual Semester in India, Spring 2004

Date: &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Itinerary:

Feb. 26 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Depart San Francisco for Delhi

Feb. 27 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Day Lost in Flight

Feb. 28 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Arrive Early AM into Delhi

Feb. 38 – Mar. 1 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Semester Orientation in Delhi

Mar. 2 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel by train to Varanasi (15 hr Overnight)

Mar. 3 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Arrive in Varanasi

Mar. 3 – 19 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Varanasi Homestay, Yoga, Hindi Classes, Vounteering,

Mar. 20 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel by Train to Gaya (5 hrs)

Mar. 21 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Transport from Gaya to Bodhgaya

Mar. 21 – 28 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Study Tibetan Buddhism & Visit Temples

Mar. 28 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel by Train to Haridwar (26 hrs)

Mar. 30 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Arrive in Rishikesh

Mar. 30 – Apr. 14 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Work at Ramana’s Garden Orphanage, Reiki Initiation

Apr. 14 – 18 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Trekking in the Himalays

Apr. 18 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Night in Rishikesh

Apr. 19 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel by Jeep to Uttar Kashi

Apr. 19 – 30 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Yoga and Internships in Music/Art/Cooking/Dance

Apr. 30 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel by Jeep to Dehra Dun, Overnight Bus to Dharmsala

May 1-17 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Dharamsala Homestay,Volunteering, See the Dalai Lama

May 1-12 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Optional 10-day Vipassana Meditation Course

May 17 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Travel to Amritstar to see the Golden Temple

May 18 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Transport to Delhi

May 19 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Visit the Taj Mahal/ Semester Wrap-up

May 20 &nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp&nbsp Fly from Delhi back to San Francisco

(*And after India…I’ve got another rabbit to pull from my hat!)

(sol’s travel photogallery)&nbsp&nbsp(some sol stories)&nbsp&nbsp(sol’s work; LeapNow.org)