Goodbye Ashram ...

Day of departure: December 13

The library was as loud as ever during game time as children and volunteers alike were playing games and putting together puzzles. After giving my best to the cooks, the only ones left to say goodbye to were the kids ... my boys. In the days leading up to my departure, I knew that I would miss them and that it would be hard to say goodbye but when it came down to it, it was harder than I had expected. When someone says they are going to leave the effect tends to be minute because things could always come up. One could stay a day, a week or month longer than had expected and because of that, why fret? The real goodbye makes it official and all the comfort that you had just the day before vanishes leaving you feeling alone and cold.

I first said goodbye to Manoj. Rambunctious, smart and often a punk (reminds me of myself), out of my students he was the one I would miss most. He wrapped his little arms around me and his head pressed into my stomach as I told him I would miss him dearly and that everything would be okay. My mind kept telling me that everything would be okay. I felt him start to cry and as I held him my eyes began to water as well. It might sound harsh, but I told him, as well as myself, that men don't cry, that we have to remain strong during the hardest moments of our lives. He then let go and turned away so I couldn't see him cry. I watched him calm himself and heard him say under his breath that "men don't cry ... men don't cry". He then looked up at me still with watery eyes and smiled. He smiled.

I then said my goodbyes to my other two boys, Vijay and Gulshan. Vijay, who is quite the artist (he loves to draw parrots) and cricket player (a true baller), and Gulshan, the most playful and seemingly innocent out of the bunch, just looked at me like their best friend was going away. They called me 'biyah' (buy-yuh), their older brother, and told me just the day before that I was a good teacher, their favorite teacher with favorite being one of the words I taught them. Although not as visibly emotional as my goodbye with Manoj, I felt that I would be missed and surely they felt they would forever be remembered as two of the three boys who could always make me smile.

Teaching them was one of the greatest gifts that have ever been bestowed upon me. The children had such a desire to learn and often the speed at which they would pick up a new concept amazed me given their minute base in English. I wish I could show you the pictures that are forever locked away in my mind. The pictures of these boy's faces when a new concept 'just clicked' in their heads is priceless. One day I taught my boys the difference between 'this' and 'that' and when and how to use them appropriately. The next day when they came into class, without me saying anything, one took the book out of my hand and said "this is a book" while another pointed to the ceiling fan and said "that is a fan". From there they pointed to many other objects around the room using 'this' and 'that' accordingly. I cannot express the level of satisfaction and happiness that came over me. I mean they listened, they tried and they succeeded. In the few moments like those I caught a glimpse of what it might be like to be a parent and see your child succeed at something new. It is truly an unforgettable feeling.


Whatever I taught these children is merely a fraction of what they taught me. They gave me a lesson in resilience. They taught me when adversity laughs in your face the only thing to do is laugh back at it.

They reminded me that hope and love are the most powerful forces in this world. The two work together, lifting each other up when the other falls. Without them, we are simply the walking dead. They also taught me that every chore and every task can become a game. And most importantly, although it may have been just for a moment, they taught me how to look at the world like a kid again ... equally intrigued by the mundane and complex alike. Oh yeah, they also taught me to dance (see video, you'll enjoy it).



So Goodbye Ashram. My time there will be remembered fondly and hopefully, I will be able to return one day.

Jaul melangeh ...