Our First Journey
by Sabrina Liu, 2015
Usually, when my family and I go on vacation, I first ask my parents these three questions: is our hotel a five-star one, what is the Wifi password of the place we are staying at, and if I can shop for souvenirs. So, when my parents revealed to my brother, William, and me with the surprise trip of traveling to Tibet, we both were excited for another extravagant journey where would take breathtaking pictures and brag about them to our friends. However, when I saw my mom packing an abnormal amount of toothbrushes and toothpastes, clothes, food, books, and other donation goods, my confused brain told me that this vacation was going to be different. I was right. After finding out that my family and I would be helping with the less fortunate families of Tibet, I first felt heroic for a few seconds, then I shrugged and stopped thinking that much about it afterwards.
Our plan was to drive from Chengdu to Luhuo, Tibet. We got into the car, and I couldn’t help but ask the lama who was driving our car, “When are we going to get there?” for the first four hours. When I realized that this question was getting me nowhere, I slumped back onto my seat and started to play on my phone. Little did I know, I would be stuck in the back seat for ten more hours. Once we arrived at Luhuo, I thought, “Finally, now I can relax in my room at a fancy hotel.” I knew I was wrong the second I walked into a cramped and dirty room that contained one bed, a table, and an old bathroom. From then on, I knew that this trip was going to be contrasting to all the other vacations I’ve had. Maybe my trip to Tibet was even going to be life-changing.
On the second day, we drove for a couple of more hours until the driver stopped. He warned us that the roads from now on were going to be dirt ones full of rocks. He mentioned that we were going to get car-sick very easily on those dirt roads, especially since we were going higher up in altitude, so we might need to use our oxygen tanks. At first, I did not pay much attention to his words, but not long after, I became fully aware that he was right. The bumpy roads started to make me nauseous, and the high elevation only made me very dizzy. So, for the next six hours, I relied on oxygen tanks and a barf bag to keep me sane. Wondering where we were, I sat up from my lying position, and immediately regretted my decision. From looking out the window, my eyes found themselves staring down at a rushing river with sharp rocks everywhere. Realization hit me and my mind slowly figured out that we were driving through mountain ranges, and right below us was a chasm. There was no fence or any sort of barrier to protect our car from tumbling down the peaks, and being deathly afraid of heights, my mind kept repeating these two words over and over again, “Goodbye world.” With that thought in my head, I tightly shut my eyes and tried my hardest to endure the next couple of hours.
After the slowest and most unbearable thirty minutes ever, we arrived at tulku Zwanjimi’s Tade Temple. As I got out of the car, holding my oxygen tank for my dear life, I was approached by a group of kids with bouquets of wildflowers that they handpicked themselves on the mountain sides. Then, the lamas and nuns living at the temple placed a khata, a traditional scarf in Tibetan Buddhism, around my neck. We followed them into a small cabin, where we were offered plates of food that were made out of the plants on their mountains while we tried to conversed with the tulku about this country and its culture. Unfortunately, my family and I were all too dizzy, car sick, and nauseous to eat or talk properly, so once again, we just relied on our oxygen tanks. Tulku Zwanjimi noticed how tired we were, and showed us to our small and cold wooden cabins. And for the rest of the night, we lied inside our sleeping bags, fitfully sleeping.
The next morning, I woke up to hearing the sound of kids running, laughing, screaming, and playing around. As I sat up, my eyes landed on multiple heavy-looking boxes near the corner of the room. I suddenly remembered, today was the day I actually got to file out gifts for the children! So, a few hours later, there I was, shivering in the cold, with an oxygen tank in one hand and a few school uniforms in the other. For the rest of the afternoon, my brother and I were handing out warm clothes, tennis shoes, candies, food, sport-balls, toothbrushes and toothpastes, toys, and books to the kids, and for once, I was truly elated during my trip to Tibet. We spent a lot of times conversing with the kids, and my brother and I even taught them a few simple words in English, such as “hello,” “bye,” and “thank you.” There was one part I remember greatly, as it shocked me very much. William had brought his drone to take videos and photos from the top of the mountains, and when he started flying it, all the kids started to shout, “Look! There’s a flying truck in the air!” These children have not even heard of planes or any type of aircraft in their lives, and standing there, I suddenly started to feel horrible when I realized that I was taking everything for granted, for when I looked at these kids with their innocent eyes trapped inside their own simple world, I felt a sudden urge to thank everyone in my life for making me so fortunate.
We went back to Chengdu one whole day later, taking the same difficult and long route for another two days. This time, I did not complain. From my trip to Tibet, I learned to always be appreciative and not take my privileges for granted, for there are kids around the world who are suffering a lot more. Surely, if there are so many kids who can survive without electricity, then how essential is it for me to have Wifi? If there are many kids who express significant gratitude when they receive an expired bowl of instant noodles, then how important is it for me to have delicious looking and tasting meals every day? If there are many kids who have never experienced using any sort of modern technology, then why do fortunate children like us get to waste our electronic devices for the most useless actions? The problem comes here. Blessed children, even adults, these days are too dependent on their privileged lives to even care about saying the two simple words, “Thank you.” These words do not matter to many ignorant individuals, and, most of time, even if they do say it, they do not express it from the depths of their heart. And why is this? It is because lucky people like us are used to being born into wealth. It is because lucky people like us think that everything we get is supposed to be given to us. Most of all, it is because unenlightened individuals like the most of us are too spoiled and selfish to care about other people’s needs, in other words, because of our advantages, we tend to tune out other problems happening in the world.
I started to develop ideas of starting a foundation to help the poverty-stricken children there. Every child should be able to have chances to excel in life. Just because they were born into a poor environment absolutely does not mean that they cannot get education, shelter, food, and a life. Seeing the Tibetan kids and their parents spend everything they can for the former to at least try to have hope in their minds, eyes, and life, I started to wonder why they do not hava comfortable life. These people are so grateful and hard-working, with all the best morals, so if anything, they are the ones who deserve a good time on Earth. After all, isn’t every one born equally? If so, then these children deserve to at least have an ambition in life. These children deserve to experience our daily satisfactions. They deserve to have a place where they can truly call home. They deserve to be treated with the same treatments more fortunate kids have. They deserve to be regarded as a human with sparks of hope in their lives. And most of all, they truly deserve to have a bright future.
