Bittersweet Kisses

Scarsdale, New York

August 17

As I take one last glance at my bedroom, newly decorated with buddha and zen paraphernalia, I mentally try to prepare myself for the months ahead. I blink a couple times in complete shock, trying to grasp the reality that I will be spending the next four months of my life with a Nepali family in the heart of Buddhism itself. . . Nepal.

I hear my mom's wonderfully off pitched voice ringing through the halls, "you're gunna miss me when I'm gone, you're gunna miss me when I'm gone, yooou're gunna miss me when I'm goooone.. WOOO!!" Those catchy lyrics got me thinking. What sorts of things will I miss when I’m gone? I must say I will miss all the comforts of my New York home.... laundry miraculously done in the blink of an eye, a spotlessly clean room, dinner on the table when I come home from work, and the pampering of a typical twenty-something year old (borderline too old for the pampering).

This summer was great, jampacked with travels and work… riding camels in the Israeli deserts, inhaling the beauty of the Alaskan wilderness, getting in my daily dosage of yoga at the studio, and learning all about Eastern Oriental art & eating tacos at an antique shop I worked in all summer. Yvonne, if you are reading this, I want to say how much I love you for opening your doors and arms to me this summer!! Even though my summer days were filled to the brim with work and activities (staying up every night until 3am beading and making jewelry like a maniac), I felt myself craving something more. It was this everyday sort of complacency, a sigh type of feeling where you know there is something lacking, that sent me into a rut. I needed something more, some excitement, something new. Colors, sights, smells, and tastes that would send my senses on an ethnic journey. I felt my body rejecting the suburbian life. The burbs had become a time capsule of my childhood—a pair of childhood pants I’ve worn my whole life that now feel much too snug. I found myself in no-man’s land, a place between teenage years and the gates of young adulthood, laced with responsibility and self-sufficiency (a daunting yet tantalizing thought). My Facebook newsfeed and cell phone buzzed with reminders of all my friends who were beginning their working lives in the chaos of New York City or those who were starting their semesters abroad. My routine lulled into a silent alarm, tick-tocking in my ear. When is my life going to start, when am I going to really start living?? It became hard to ‘live in the moment,’ as my yogi and Buddhist texts urge so strongly, because all I wanted to do was take a hop, skip, and a jump onto that Qatar Airline flight to Nepal. Even though I will miss my family and friends dearly (and will see them in a few short months), all of the nerve endings in my body are firing with excitement for the adventures to come.

But, what to expect?? I envision the Nepali people as little buddhas strolling around the ornate stupa temples of Kathmandu, bowing with their hands pressed together and greetings of Namaste echoing in the Himalayan breeze. From what I’ve heard, the Nepalis and Tibetans are known to be one of the happiest most peaceful peoples in our crazy world today. According to an ancient legend, there is a place in the mountains of Tibet, bordering Nepal, called Shambahla—a perfect utopia in which peace and nirvana flow through every being. Will I find such a place, or state of mind, in the polluted smog of Kathmandu streets or the silence of Buddhist monasteries, or being in the presence of a lama or even the Bodhi Tree where the Buddha attained enlightenment 2500 years ago? Hmmm. At this point, all I’m hoping is that I don’t get deathly ill from some microscopic parasite that will somehow seep it’s way into my drinking water. It’s easy to say now when I still am thinking straight and don’t have a 105 degree fever, but I’m welcoming any Delhi belly or strange Nepali ailments that come my way as part of the whole experience. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? So, what I do know is that I will be adopted upon arrival by a family that may or may not speak English, and may or may not have indoor plumbing. Showers are going to be a major luxury, so I’m not really planning on being squeaky clean for the next 120 days… oh welllll! Dirt, grease, and grime will be a staple in my daily ensemble. I’m traveling with a group of five Boston College students, including myself, who will each stay with a Nepali or Tibetan family for the entire four months. We are attending the Rangjung Yeshe Institute of Buddhist Studies aka Kathmandu University aka the Shedra (what a mouthful) where lamas will be everpresent in an international crowd of PHD students, undergrads, and grads all eagerly waiting to soak up some Buddha vibes and teachings. Myself included!!

Writing now from seat 24A on this ridiiiiculously and unbelievably nice Qatar flight, I peer out my small window like a three-year old and gawk at the sea of orange and gold flickering lights that outline the ragged shape of New York state. Resting my feet on an olive green trekking pack that is bigger than I am and will soon become my turtle shell, I brace myself for the next thirty hours of flight. Hugs and Kisses to the city that never sleeps, good ole New York…. see you in four months!!!

xoxo Julia