Global journal 2017 fall issue

Taft School

Gl obal Jou r n al

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CONTENTS f all 20 17 Cover Photo Photographer and Overall Photo Contest Winner: Bar bar a Gar za Her rer a '18 3 Welcome to Taft!

4 Viva Cuba!

6 The Land of the Thunder Dragon 7 A Month in Mwandi 10 Bringing Lacrosse to Harlem, NY 12 Ahmedabad in Pictures 14 A Grey's Anatomy Inspired Summer 15 Photo Contest Results 17 The Angels of Cuenca 19 Larung Gar 21 Beyond Mountains, There are Mountains Back Cover Photographer and Overall Photo Contest Runner up: Choying Dechen '19

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Let t er f rom t he Edit ors: Global Journal is a student-led publication with the goal of shedding light on the wide range of perspectives present in the Taft community. To this end, GJ seeks to raise awareness of global issues through pieces on current events and travel, and to share the Non ut sibi spirit through students? service experiences. In this issue, we asked students to research and lend their opinions on global conflict, share summer service adventures and Poole and Page grant opportunities, as well as submit photographs to a contest.

Taft prides itself on being a diverse community, representing 33 states and 44 countries, along with a large number of ethnicities and backgrounds. To make sure that the dynamism of this community is captured, we collect a broad range of media. We are proud of the diverse representation in our magazine and welcome anyone who wants to to contribute! Read something you like? Tell us! Our goal is to fill a specific niche, one that lends a voice to Taft outside the bubble.

Finally, a big thank you to everyone who submitted an article to Global Journal? we appreciate the time and effort you put into writing these articles! You are the ones who make this magazine outstanding, and we?re honored to be able to share your thoughts and ideas with the rest of the Taft community. Thank you!!

- GJ Editors: Aditya Balsekar, Maddie Savage, Ali Sinan Kaya, Eliza King Freedman, Magda Kisielinska, and Benjamin Laufer (not pictured)

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Wel com e t o Taf t !

By: Adam Drum m on d ' 18 Wel com e t o Taf t !

Growing up in Ireland probably isn?t what most of you presume. My house lies on Redemption Road in the heartbeat of North Cork City. For me, home is home. It has shaped me into the person that I am today. Growing up, it wasn?t all about basketball for me. When I was six, I decided to grab the bucket of blue paint, which was being used to paint my older brothers room, and draw a soccer goal on the wall outside my house. As you would presume, my parents weren?t too excited about my young artistic display. But, it was all about soccer for me. I had a ball with me everywhere that I went. Every Christmas I would ask for one thing: to go see Liverpool FC play a home game at Anfield. Every year Santa would say ?Next Season.?

Elementary school was a fun time for me. It was only minutes away from home, so every morning I would put one of my five Liverpool shirts on with a pair of sneakers and head to school. Oh also, a rain jacket. It rains a lot, and I mean a lot. Everyday the excitement would build towards lunch time. We would have our teams selected beforehand so we wouldn?t waste any time getting into a game of soccer. We didn?t play with a soccer ball though?

We weren?t trusted. Instead we compromised and played with the top of the water bottles we got with our free lunches.

High School came, and so did a growth spurt. It came to a point where I was too gangly to play soccer anymore, so basketball took over. I was lucky enough to live only a five minute walk away from my local basketball club. It went from being a hobby to an obsession. My high school back home only had 200 students. It was one corridor long with only 8 classrooms. We learned through the

Gaelic language, something I take great pride in. I have been lucky enough to travel all across the globe with basketball. I have been able to meet all types of people from different nationalities with different backgrounds.

Then came Taft. When I came on my visit last Christmas, I was extremely nervous. When I walked in I immediately felt accepted. Each person I saw had a smile on his or her face. Coming from a school the size of the dining hall, Taft seemed a bit different. But that?s what I wanted. A new challenge. A new beginning. Somewhere that could help me reach my goals. I knew for sure Taft was the place for me when I saw a Domino's pizza car outside the main door as I was leaving. I said to myself, "I think I'll like it here."

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Vi va Cu b a!

By: Caleb Han n on ' 18 A place like no other. A place lost in time. A place so close in proximity, yet so different in culture. The country of Cuba has a profusion of places and people to explore, and I was very fortunate to have had the opportunity to do so this past June. In a mix of community service work and adventure, I traveled all around the island with the student-designed company Global Works for twelve days.

We started our journey in Havana, the capital city.

Although seemingly destroyed to ruins on the outside, the character of the people there is an unparalleled happiness and confident hope. In Havana we took cooking classes, watched cultural dance and musical performances, and educated ourselves on the history of the city. In addition, we helped out at a local farmer's market, which was also an ample opportunity to practice our Spanish skills. We also spent a day on the outskirts of the city, at a farm that supplies crops and food for the entire city. My favorite experience in Havana, however, was visiting the Afro-Cuban community, where the walls of buildings were covered with beautiful, colored murals, and the attitude of the people was even more vibrant. Here, we explored artists? studios and learned about the Afro-Cuban religion of SanterĂ­a.

Next on our itinerary was Pinar del RĂ­o, as we explored an eco-preserve and restored forest, where we were blown away by breathtaking views as we studied the preserve?s flora and fauna. We also spent time at a dual farm co-op and art gallery, where we worked in the gardens, learned about the maintenance of animals on the farm, and also had a chance to make pottery for the artists to sell.

Although hard work, it was more than worth it to see the joy on the faces of the people there.

After our work in Pinar del RĂ­o, we traveled to southern part of the island to the historic Bay of Pigs. Here, we visited cultural and education

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gorgeous waterfall, and learned how to salsa dance!

After this, we headed back to Havana to reflect on our amazing memories and cultural experience.

Cuba is most definitely a place that everyone should visit if given the opportunity. I am blessed to have been able to explore and study the culture of the amazing people on the island. Being able to give back to these people gave me great delight, and will allow me to be more grateful, as were the ebullient locals.

Lost in time, yes, but perhaps Cuba is ahead of time in optimism and enthusiasm.

museums, and we even had the opportunity to snorkel in the beautiful bay!

Our last stop on the island was in Cienfuegos, a place brilliantly spirited with color, art, and culture.

We explored and volunteered at many art shops, and also at a women's initiative, where we made, bought, and sold various bracelets with women from age ten to eighty. We also hiked through a

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Th e Lan d of t h e Th u n d er Dragon By: Choyin g Dechen ' 19 Landlocked between the land of Tibet to the north and India to the south, Bhutan is located on the southern slopes of the eastern Himalayas. Bhutan has a multi-ethnic population of around 800,000 inhabitants, with the land area comparable to that of Switzerland (Switzerland is approximately 41,277 sq km, while Bhutan is approximately 38,394 sq km), but with the population of eight million inhabitants. Upon my third and lengthiest trip to Bhutan, I was once again in awe of the magnificent beauty of this "living Eden."

Zhabdrung Ngawang Namgyal, the first Zhabdrung Rinpoche, was the founding father of the Bhutanese state, and His Majesty, Ugyen Wangchuck, the first King, formed and unified Bhutan as a recognized nation. During his reign as King, His Majesty Ugyen Wangchuk invited His Holiness the VIIth Kyabgon Jedrung Rinpoche to Bhutan and paid homage by becoming his student and patron. In fact, my younger brother is the IXth reincarnation of His Holiness Jedrung Rinpoche.

I came to Bhutan for a two-week pilgrimage trip, and re-discovered the ancient history, as well as the rich culture and tradition of Bhutan. My first trip included a four-hour trek to Paro Taktsang, also known as the Tiger?s Nest. This Buddhist sacred site is located by the cliff of the Paro valley. Story has it that Guru Rinpoche (a prominent figure in Buddhism, comparable in status to Buddha himself) rode on the back of the tiger to Taktsang where he conquered demon spirits that were standing in the way of the spread of Buddhism in the country. It is also said that his Holiness visited Bumthang, in central Bhutan, where he cured the ailing King, meditated, and subdued demons. Another prominent site is the gigantic Shakyamuni Buddha statue in the capital

city of Bhutan. Driving through Thimphu, you can see students in their school uniforms mingling after classes. In Bhutan, education is free and available for all. Another interesting note is that all Bhutanese citizens wear their national dress. Men wear the Gho, and women wear the Kira, both very dress-like in their appearance.

Less than 40 years ago, Bhutan opened its borders for the first time and now tourists from all over the world come to experience its pure and unspoiled environment. Bhutan is the only existing Vajrayana Buddhist country in the world, which explains its emphasis on a positive and spiritual lifestyle. Since 1971, Bhutan has rejected GDP as the country's measurement for progress, and instead developed a new approach to measure its prosperity: gross national happiness (GNH). This development emphasizes the spiritual and social values of the nation, and has since become a global inspiration.

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A M on t h i n M wan d i By: Maddie Savage ' 18 During my month volunteering this summer in Mwandi, a rural village in Southwestern Zambia, I had the opportunity to meet and build relationships with some of the most amazing people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. My time there was split between teaching at the preschool and working building local huts.

Settling into life in Mwandi took some adjustment; not only was I sharing a room the size of a small Taft single with five other girls, but also the entire Zambian culture in general was, expectedly, very different from what I was used to.

However, rather than acting amused by my outsiderness, many of the villagers made a clear effort to teach me little things such as hand gestures, greetings, and basic Lozi words that would help me to fit in better and show elders the proper respect.

The one major difference between what I anticipated doing and what my actual experience ended up being was that I spent a lot more time constructing huts than I had originally thought. This ended up being one of my favorite activities, as I got to spend a lot of time with local children who were eager to help with the mudding process. A typical day at the huts was very busy: Wake up at 7:00am, work on the huts from 8:00-12:00, lunch break until 2:00, then 2:00-4:00 PM more work on the huts. After 6:00 PM dinner, we all sat around a fire and shared stories from the day until each person trickled off to bed. I don?t remember ever staying up past 9:00PM because the days were long and the hot sun took a lot of energy out of me.

On days where I worked at the preschool, I had a little more time. The first kids, the ones who lived close, arrived at preschool at around 8:00am. I played with the five and six year olds until their

lessons, dedicated to teaching the alphabet and numbers, began at 9:00 AM. Because most of them understood English but could not speak it, the classroom was a very hectic place. I was affectionately known as ?Teecha? (their attempt at saying teacher) during the school day, and each question I asked the class was met with a chorus of ?Teecha?s!? and a sea of eagerly raised hands. Class went from 9:00-11:00, the latter of which was spent eating boxed lunches that each child arrived with.

The most difficult but inspiring thing I observed while working at the preschool was how generous and compassionate each little child was, despite

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having close to nothing to call their own; if one child saw that one of their classmates only had a piece of stale bread in his lunch box, he would push his lunch box over to share his own rice or shima (the Zambian traditional food). I always found this touching and observed these acts of kindness with a great deal of awe and respect for such young children. The same thing was repeated with an afternoon class of three and four year olds.

My greatest worry in embarking on this trip was that my time there would not be of any help to Mwandi. I worried that my trip was more of an experience for me to gain than it was an impactful volunteering one. However, I returned having made several strong and long-lasting relationships with quite a few spectacular and inspiring people, I knew that my worries were unnecessary. I believe that my main contribution was my ability to really connect and form meaningful friendships with individuals

while I was there. While I understand that the fact that I completed two full houses or taught fifty-six preschoolers the alphabet is more tangible, I strongly feel that I stood out as a volunteer with my ability to connect with people. I met a young girl named Ireen while mudding the walls of her grandfather?s new hut on one of my first days there, and she became a very close friend of mine. We formed a routine and I would help her do her math homework every afternoon and she would teach me small greeting phrases and customs in the Lozi tribe. I bought her school supplies and in return she gave me pieces of the local papaya, ?popo,? from her yard. On my last day, Ireen gave me a handwritten note thanking me for the worthwhile time we had spent together and praising my kindness to her as a friend.

I realized that the while the volunteer work was absolutely necessary and the basis for my entire

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trip, it was the people that I had met while volunteering that made the experience so special and so inspiring for me. Likewise, while it is important to acknowledge that a lot of the hut-building was extremely physically strenuous and oftentimes left me sore beyond belief, the most difficult part was recognizing the multifaceted challenges facing adolescents in Mwandi, especially in comparison to my own personal challenges. One of the most informative aspects of the trip was my broadened understanding of world economics and the challenges facing small developing countries like Zambia. In order to work towards a solution that would enable Sub-Saharan African countries to incorporate sustainable development, it is imperative to consider political, cultural, economic, and social perspectives. I have

learned the importance of tailoring solutions to specific areas rather than using nationally averaged statistics to assess a problem. I have gained an immense amount of not only perspective, but knowledge on the interrelated and diverse complications facing developing countries.

My month in Mwandi was one of the most spectacular, eye-opening, inspiring, heartening, and difficult experiences I have ever had. Every member of the Lozi tribe that I met was welcoming, friendly, and upbeat: Mwandi is a happy place.

Home for AIDS Orphans, though very small, is an amazing organization. Its Founder, Paula Windland Van Zyl, is one of the most inspiring people I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and I encourage anyone who is interested to come talk to me about making the trip.

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Bri n gi n g Lacrosse t o Harl em , NY By: Joe Hardison '18

Being an active member in Taft athletics, I wanted to pursue an avenue of volunteer work that spread the many values that come as a result of sports teams. Thus, the Poole Grant allowed me to do a week-long internship with the Harlem Lacrosse Organization. The organization, although originating in Harlem, NY, has spread to famous cities around the U.S., including Boston, Baltimore and Philadelphia. Given my close proximity to New York, I decided to use my grant to travel by train for 7 days into the heart of Harlem to volunteer at the PS (Public School) 76, or Philips Randolph School. Harlem Lacrosse, as written on the front page of their website, ?is a school-based non-profit organization that changes the life trajectories of at risk youth through daily wrap-around academic support, mentoring, leadership training, college readiness, career exploration, admissions counseling, and lacrosse instruction? (harlemlacrosse.org).

Everyday I traveled to Harlem at 8 AM and left the school around 5 PM or after practice. While the kids were still in school, I spent the majority of my

time in the basement of the school organizing donated lacrosse equipment. I observed students come in and out of the Harlem Lacrosse office and receive guidance on a particular subject or advice on how to approach a certain homework assignment. I heard first hand accounts of some of the struggles these individuals endure on a daily basis, like not having a clean pair of clothes.

Although I worked hard throughout the day, sometimes I just got to hang around the kids and talk to them. One thing I specifically noticed was the fact that every player reminded me of myself as a kid?eager, enthusiastic, and inventive. During the internship I constantly pondered how much different these kids?lives could be if they had only grown up as privileged as I . After class was over the coaches and I went out to the blacktop ?field? behind the school for practice. Although the practice was all about lacrosse, a big part focused on discipline and doing what you are told to do. I helped manage the practice and give the players some tips.

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This experience will help me tremendously because I know I want to help people in my future career. I want to help be the one to end the cycle of poverty and other hardships many of these inner-city families have to endure. It was hard for me to talk with the players and the kids at school because, deep down, each one of them is very similar to me at that age. I remember one time when this third grader, named Desean, came up to me and asked if he could come back to Darien with me on the train for a playdate. I was forced to say no, but I will never forget the look in his eyes when I said, ?Next time.? The goal of Harlem Lacrosse, and my contribution, is to ensure that these individuals, like Desean, continue on the path of goodness, and do not fall into the pressures of society.

Although I do not miss the two hour commute to the city everyday by train, I do miss the kids at PS-76, and hope that they are making the right choices that could, one day, lead them to places they had never imagined.

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Ah m ed ab ad i n Pi ct u res By: Mihir Nayar ' 19 For six weeks, I went to Ahmedabad, India to volunteer with an NGO named Manav Sadhna.

Here are a few of my most memorable moments that embodied the overall experience of my summer service trip: In Gandhi Ashram, there were leaky ceilings, rusty floors, mice,and mosquitoes. Despite this, each morning as I entered the sacred place, I kept an open mind. The Ashram became not only my place to practice Hinduism, but it was also my place of relaxation and security. Every morning for half an hour, I prayed and chanted along to the same bhajans (songs) with the same messages of peace and forgiveness. As I closed my eyes, I relaxed into a deep meditation; this feeling was indescribably satisfying. After each prayer and bhajan, my fellow volunteers and I reflected on the previous day?s work. After prayer and reflection, any anger and sadness I had disappeared. I felt more whole each time. Overall,Gandhi Ashram taught me spirituality

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works there does so voluntarily and without earning a wage. My experience at Seva Café was my favorite part of the service trip. I cooked different Indian foods, took several orders, cleaned the dishes, and found another family of people. One of the nights, all of the children from my organization?s Community Center visited Seva Café. We all performed different dances, played a few games, and then ate some great food. What a night that was! Overall, Seva Café taught me compassion and selflessness.

Spirituality, patience, selflessness, compassion, community, and belonging. As I reflect on these values and where I found them, I thank Manav Sadhna for everything they gave me. I changed for the better. This was definitely a once in a lifetime, eye-opening experience for me. The best part was the smiles on the faces of children, mothers, fathers, fellow volunteers, and everyone else in the community; such a sight of genuine happiness was priceless.

and belonging.

After morning prayer, I walked to the local Anganwadi. Each time, the little kiddies ran up to me with smiles etched on each of their faces.

My three main goals were to show the teacher how to teach English to the students, to record nutritional data of the different kids so that other Manav Sadhna volunteers can administer vaccinations, and to form close bonds with the children. Though I accomplished all three, the hardest part was helping the teacher learn methods of teaching English; she spoke Gujarati and Hindi, and I only knew a little Hindi. On top of this, she did not speak English, so you can imagine why teaching it was difficult for her. I told her that she could watch me repetitively teach the children the alphabet, numbers one through ten, and days of the week. By the end, she taught the same information by herself. The children and I also became very close to each other. I was proud of their intellectual and creative growth. Overall, the Anganwadi taught me patience and community.

I also worked at Seva Café, a gift-economy restaurant, meaning that the customers pay the amount they want to. Thus, the monetary aspect of paying is about the true generosity of the consumer rather than a set amount from the check. Also, everyone who

A Grey's Anatomy In spir ed Su m m er By: Logan Clew - Bachrach ' 20 Grey?s Anatomy is one of my all-time favorite shows. Even though, it portrays doctors? lives as more thrilling, glamorous, and exciting than they are, I still love it and have no shame in admitting that. However shallow, Grey?s is the reason why I have been fascinated by the medical world since the seventh grade. I have never thought that I will have an opportunity to actually learn about or pursue my passion before college.

However, this past summer I was able to use the Meg Page Grant to explore my interest in healthcare at the Georgetown University Summer Medical Institute. There, I spent a very busy week learning about details of everything, from trauma surgery to childbirth.

I arrived at Georgetown on July 16th tired, jetlagged, and with absolutely no idea what the week had in store for me. I quickly became friends with my next-door neighbor, the only other girl on our floor without a roommate, and tried to settle in as well as I could. Although some say Taft is like a college, my time in the dorms and on the Georgetown campus was completely different from anything I?d experienced before. At dinner on that first night, we received our schedules, which were full of unfamiliar and intriguing activities like ?Cadaver Lab? and ?Stitches and Suturing Practice.? The next morning, I performed ?Cadaver Lab,? an exciting hands-on look at preserved human remains that was unlike anything I?d ever seen in a book or on a powerpoint. One of the

highlights of my stay was the atmosphere during walking up the hill to the labs each morning. Every day showed me more and more of how wide ranging the medical field really was.

Aside from the labs, my days at Georgetown were full of lectures, field trips every night until 9:30 PM, and frequent walks into the Georgetown neighborhood with friends. Throughout all the excitement, I barely had a minute to stop and take in how unique the entire opportunity was. One day, we went to the R. Adams Cowley Shock Trauma Center in Baltimore, where we learned how trauma surgeons work, explored the hospital and experienced a multiplace hyperbaric chamber that fits up to 25 people. The next day, our program directors, as well as a visiting orthopedic surgeon, gave a series of fascinating lectures about various types of orthopedic surgery. Another lecture I audited was about reading different scans, including ultrasounds, x-rays, and MRI?s. The images mostly portrayed things people had ingested; coins, nails, and even an iPod. Going into my week at Georgetown, I was sure that I wanted to be a doctor. Being a high school sophomore, I still can?t say for certain which career path I will pursue; however, the Meg Page Grant afforded me the opportunity to gain a more hands-on understanding of the basics and explore my fascination with the medical world. In addition, the Summer Medical Institute gave me a starting point to discover what I want to do in healthcare going forward, and how I want to make a difference.

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Ph ot o Con t est Resu l t s: Ci t yscap e Win n er: Sarah I n ce ' 18

Run n er- Up : Zach Marian i ' 18

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Port rai t Win n er: Barb ara Garza Herrera ' 18

Run n er- Up : Choyin g Dechen ' 19

Lan d scap e Win n er: Clara Ye ' 19 Run n er- Up : Jon at han Chen g ' 20

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Th e An gel s of Cu en ca By: El iza King Freedman '19 On June 13, I boarded a plane wondering why I, a sixteen year old girl who didn?t particularly enjoy the company of children, had chosen to devote sixteen days of my summer to work in two orphanages in Cuenca, Ecuador.

Though I am still not a huge fan of children, these kids, some disabled and some not, with whom I spent the early days of June will forever be an exception; I love these kids with everything that I have.

I spent two and a half weeks in Ecuador (the maximum amount of time allowed for a sixteen year old) working with disabled children, babies with fetal alcohol syndrome, and children waiting for permission from the Ecuadorian Child Protective Services to go home to their parents. It may be a clichĂŠ to say that I learned how lucky I am, but there is no other way to describe it. In Ecuador, I met kids who are angels on earth and deserve the world but, instead, have nothing. I have yet to go a day without thinking about them.

I spent my mornings at Los PequeĂąitos de OSSO, an orphanage for severely physically and mentally disabled children, however many were over twenty one and planned on spending the rest of their lives there. Upon arrival, the volunteers

helped spoon-feed the kids breakfast, brush their teeth, and bathe them. After learning that I would have to do such things with children from ages five to twenty-seven, I devised a plan to avoid the tasks at all costs. However, I was thrown into it, and I did not realize how awkward and uncomfortable all of the things that I was doing were until I recounted my trip to a friend weeks later. In the moment, I simply did what the nurses told me to do. I wanted to do everything I could to make the kids comfortable and keep a smile on their faces.

Therefore, I was happy and enjoyed the work, not because I couldn?t think of anything else I would rather do, but because I had come to love those kids and it was my job as a volunteer to put their wellbeing far in front of my own.

After doing physical therapy with the OSSO kids and feeding them their lunch, I went to the boarding house for a two hour break before my shift in Tadeo Torres. Tadeo is a Catholic convent that doubles as an orphanage for kids ages six months to eighteen. Sometimes, I worked in Cunas, the section of the orphanage for babies, where I listened to music and read books to the kids. Cunas was one of my least favorite places to work because we were instructed only to hold the babies while we were reading to them or helping them learn how to walk, not to comfort them. They told us that if we held the babies too much, they would get used to being held whenever they cried, and since there was not enough staff on call for that to happen, they had to be able to stop crying without being held.

However, most days, I worked in Casas, a group of three cottages reserved for the kids ages two and up, many of whom were siblings. There, we read to the kids, played with them, helped them clean their rooms, and answered questions like, ?do you have a mama?? I loved all of the work I did in Ecuador; however, at Casas I grew closest to one child in particular, and it was there that my heart broke for the kids. At Casas even the youngest

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children seemed broken; they all knew they had been abandoned.

I came to love all of the kids I encountered in Ecuador; however, there were a few that cross my mind more often than the rest, that I really had trouble leaving behind. For example, MartĂ­n C. has Cerebral Palsy and the power to make anyone smile using his hand motions and mumbled words. He loves to talk about soccer and the religious mission he plans to go on if he is ever able to leave the orphanage. MartĂ­n B. likes to squeeze people?s hands and he doesn't stop squeezing until he knows you aren?t going to let go. Bryan is almost deaf, he hates walking up and down the stairs (even though he needs to for his bone development), and he has the purest laugh I have ever heard. Mayuri loves her sister Kata more than anybody in the world, and she finds the greatest joy in making other people smile. Daniel Gonzalo was an eight year old boy in Casas, he pretended he didn?t have a mother even though his mother was really a drug addict trying to get him back, and he did everything in his power to shield all the evils of the world from his five year old sister. Despite having the right to act like a menace and be angry at the world as a result of the life he was born into, Daniel was the sweetest, most

imaginative and loving person I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. He loved to play soccer, read ?Huevos Verdes con JamĂłn? (?Green Eggs and Ham?), and help the nuns cook. He has the biggest smile in the world, and he deserves to have everything he wants from the world, however he seems to be getting nothing instead. I would do anything to save these kids, but I can?t. So, for now, all I can do is hope with everything I have that something will go right for them, that they will finally get something in return .

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Laru n g Gar By: Yaya Lu '19 If you know me, you know I like to break the rules. I?ve broken so many rules at Taft that I?ve already had ten detentions give or take. I almost got a strike last year because I had a candle brewing tea in my room while my legs were out the window.

But this summer I stooped to a new low, my mother and I violated a law of the Chinese government by smuggling ourselves into...drum roll please... a Tibetan Buddhist Monastery called Larung Gar. Now you?re probably confused so let me explain.

Larung Gar is the world?s largest Tibetan Buddhist Monastery, situated in Sichuan province, China.

The Chinese President, Xi Jinping, accepts Chinese Buddhism but believes that Tibetan Buddhism threatens national unity. Last year the government demolished thousands of houses and reduced the population from 10,000 to less than 5,000. Officials were also assigned to keep foreigners out of Larung Gar to lessen the spread of Tibetan Buddhism.

My mom is an avid Buddhist and she was determined to bring me to this sacred land before it would be completely torn down. We count as

foreigners because of our American passports but there was still a way to smuggle ourselves in. Plan A was to arrive at five in the morning when the officials get lazy and just check that people look Chinese, which we obviously do because we are Chinese. Plan B was to dress in rags and sneak in by riding the rugged bread truck. It wasn?t that eventful in the end. We drove seven hours and arrived at five to see no one by the broken fence that served as a border. Very professional.

After a few crowded bus rides and some muddy walking, we stood in the middle of Larung Gar and took in the scenery of dotted pink and red houses like cherry blossoms scattered by the wind.

While the visit was a valuable experience because I replenished my spirituality, I also regained my appreciation towards a humble and simple life. Due to the geography of Larung Gar, hundreds of monks and nuns have to live without heaters, air conditioners, and plumbing systems. The town is 4,000 meters above sea level, which amplifies the heat and the cold, yet the people accept the harsh

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conditions in order to study. There are very few proper restaurants, and everyone usually gets by with some corn, bananas and steamed buns.

Nevertheless, the Buddhists are physically and mentally healthy because their control over excessive desires allow them to focus on basic yet bigger aspects of life, such as compassion, and open the heart. I saw many monks eat half of their bun and give the other portion to stray cats and dogs. People nowadays rarely have time to think about their purpose, spirituality, or even care about others because we?ve been sucked into a race to satisfy our never-ending wants. Their humbleness and positive perspective rubbed off on me and I optimistically circled the stupa (a tower structure for praying) 54 times in the span of two hours, which brings me to another lesson I learned regarding hard work.

Determination is obviously important wherever you go, but there is a limit. The monks at Larung Gar studied every day and would go to

school to memorize scriptures and meditate, and circle stupas for hours after school ended. The local tourists followed their example and continued walking around stupas even after it started to rain.

My mother and I were soaked and chilled to the bone, yet we continued until the last bus was going to leave. I ended up with cramped legs and a cold, while my mother threw up and needed oxygen because of the high altitude. We definitely pushed ourselves too far that day until our karma came out physically. It was actually dangerous because the stupa is believed to be very powerful and if too much karma comes out and you become sick, you may stay sick for months. It makes sense even if you don?t believe in karma because stubbornly circling a temple in the rain for two hours while 4,000 meters in above sea level could result horribly. I applied this lesson to the rest of my summer by working hard on ACT?s and portfolios but not over my limit.

I think being a criminal for one day was worth it.

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Beyon d M ou n t ai n s, Th ere are M ou n t ai n s By: Elizab et h Barat t a ' 18 In Haiti and the Dominican Republic, there is a common expression in Creole, ?Dye mon, gen mon? that translates to beyond mountains, there are mountains. When most people think of the Dominican Republic, they tend to think of clear blue water and soft white sand. What most people don?t see, is the dismaying and astounding poverty that spans over the entire island, into Haiti, too. But beyond that poverty lies an unimaginable way of life in the Haitian bateyes that are spread around the Dominican Republic. In a batey, or sugar workers? town, if you earn more than two dollars a day for working 12 hours to bring back to your wife and seven kids, you have struck gold. Sadly, a typical salary for a 12 hour day of work, if you can find any, is less than two dollars. Not two dollars an hour, 2 dollars for 12 hours. While this poverty is astonishing, it goes largely unnoticed in the world.

Since the discovery of Hispaniola and the subsequent division of the island into French and Spanish territory, tensions have continually been high between the two countries. Dominicans consider themselves superior to the Haitians, and this theory has been perpetuated throughout the country?s history. In 1930, Rafael Trujillo rose to power as a dictator in the Dominican Republic. His racist remarks and aggressive mannerisms led to a nationwide hatred towards the Haitian people. In 1937, Trujillo and his army murdered thousands of Haitians as they attempted to escape his wrath.

While the exact number of deaths from the Parsley Massacre is unknown, it was a turning point in the history for both of the bordering countries. After Trujillo?s 31 year reign, hostility and prejudice were raging through the Dominican.

As a result of this racism, Dominicans began bringing over Haitians to work their sugar fields in the middle of the 20th century, when sugar was a major export of the Dominican Republic. The Haitians, who were promised pay, work permits, and shelter, arrived in the Dominican to unspeakable conditions. Since these Haitian workers were technically illegal immigrants when they crossed the border, their children are not allowed to be granted citizenship. When the United States began producing corn syrup in the late 20th century, the demand for sugar cane declined, leaving many of the Haitians without work. Since these workers were never given work permits, they were unable to find work elsewhere. Jobless and living in shacks, the Haitians were forced to remain in the bateyes. Due to the oppressive ways of the Dominican government, those living in the bateyes are born into a cycle of poverty with no way out.

By: Elizabeth Baratta '18

When I stepped off a bus into La Uniรณn, a batey in rural area of the Dominican Republic, children began running up to me as my jaw dropped. These children, naked, barefoot, and with distended stomachs as a result of malnutrition, were jumping with joy accompanied by smiles stretching to their ears. I was shocked by what I was seeing, but seeing the children wasn?t the hardest part. As we walked around the batey, we were able to look inside some of the homes. These homes were as big as a typical single in Voge, with dirt floors, tin as a roof, and one to two mattresses. The homes would house a family of up to nine members. There is no access to electricity and no running water, forcing families to bathe in the nearby river, the same river where they bathe their horses and pigs. This same

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waterway is used as a bathroom for most, and is the source of drinking and cooking water for all families. Disease runs high in bateyes, but the majority of outbreaks are extremely preventable.

Cholera outbreaks plague these regions, and scabies rashes are present in almost every child. While the Dominican government recognizes these horrendous conditions, they aren?t doing anything about it because the Haitians are not Dominican citizens.

In the Dominican, if you are not a citizen,

you do not have access to public services. As a result, the children and adults living in the bateyes have no access to education or health care, thus furthering the unbreakable cycle of poverty. Knowledge is power, and without an education, the members of the bateyes have no opportunity to improve their quality of life or create a better life for their children. The purposeful oppression and segregation of Haitians in the Dominican is a deplorable situation and change must be made.

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