Ashleen

Ladakh is a place where I never feel rushed or stressed or scared. I can sit on my greenhouse landing, put off my homework and soak in the sun. It doesn’t matter what I do because it is always well worth my time. The days go by in a daze of enjoying each step. We trekked through Sham stopping each day to stay and live with a Ladakhi family each as welcoming as the last. Showering us with sweetly overpowering milk tea and cookies and watching us eagerly as we forced down a cup of butter tea and instantly refilling it. Once in a while there are day hikes that take us to spectacular views and cascading glaciers. We’re never quite sure what we’ll see each day.
Ladakh is a place where every morning it takes my breath away, and not just the altitude. I walk outside to see the Indus River to my left and towering, snow covered peaks surrounding me from every direction. I take time to walk down to a footbridge about three miles off campus. I sit by the river, watching the water rush by. Occasionally I throw a small stone in to hear that wonderful plop sound. Thoughts flow freely in and out of my mind as I sit on the shore.
Ladakh is a place where I lose myself in the sights and sounds of my surroundings. At night as I wonder aimlessly in the dark, I can hear the wild dogs barking and howling close by. I look up at the star strewn sky and feel as though I am falling upwards into the black abyss of the universe. The bright star, Sirius that represents the black dog who follows Orion through the sky follows me as I travel across the world. At night as I sit awake reading the wind beats heavy on the greenhouse plastic. It reminds me of hot summer nights when a storm begins to brew. When the plastic smacks loud against a beam it is as though a bolt of lightning has struck.