Where has the time gone?

Bus ticket has been booked. Flight has been confirmed. Pretty much all the other foreign volunteers have gone...

And in less than 24 hours, I'll be on my way out of Dharamsala. It's so nuts to think about... Four months ago it seemed like I'd be here forever, and now my bags are packed and I've spent the last three days meeting with friends and students, saying goodbyes. I've met some really fantastic people during my stay in Himachal; I hope I can keep in touch with at least a few of them.

My aunt and uncle told me years ago that college would be the best years of my life, that I'd make the friendships there that would last the rest of my years. It didn't really happen that way. Sure, I made a handful of great friends, most of whom I keep in touch with thanks to the magic of Facebook, but for the most part college just wasn't for me.

This, though... I think this is what they meant. It's on this trip that I feel like I've grown and come into my own. I'm ready to tackle some new directions in life; I've got a bunch of great new people who have earned places in my heart. It's a great feeling.

That being said, I'm full of a mix of emotions. I'm glad to be getting home to see friends and family, but I'll definitely miss this place and the people here. I was offered a job, invited back for a wedding, and asked by at least a dozen different people if I'd be back next year. I don't know, guys. Maybe the year after. I've got to earn some money before I can afford to do the volunteer thing again, and get some things sorted out in my "real" life. I'm ready for it, though. I needed a break, I needed something totally different -- and I got it, and now I think I'm refreshed and ready to take care of business.

Bring it on, Life.

For those of you in the States, my plan is to reactivate my phone # on Thursday so I can turn off airplane mode once I land. I'll do my best to answer your messages in a timely fashion. ;)

It's been fun, McLeod. Maybe we'll meet again someday.

Embrace your true nature

I love video games.

No, really. I love video games. I don't play as much as I used to, and even in the past I didn't play as much as some people I've known. Still, I've been realizing over the last few months just how big a role they've played in my life. Earlier today I rewarded myself for a very productive morning by watching a movie. As I like to do, I chose one I knew nothing about: Wreck It Ralph.

Come on, doesn't this movie look like SO MUCH FUN??

Somehow this animated gem had eluded my attention until it was sent to me on a jump drive as a possible movie to pass along to my students so they could practice their English listening skills. It's not my first choice as far as that, just because I think they might have some trouble with the content – not much frame of reference for monks and nomads when talking about arcade games – but you'd better believe I had a good time. I think it might be one of my new favorites. It's got everything I love: an underdog as the protagonist, pretty graphics, a fun soundtrack, clever storytelling, and lots and lots of nostalgia. Brilliant! This, combined with the fact that about a month ago I was struck with inspiration for a game-inspired business venture that I'd like to test when I get home, got me thinking:

For as much as I really do enjoy the raw simplicity of living here in India, in a place where animals freely roam the streets, where you do your laundry in a bucket, where the power goes out at least once a day and people just go about their lives..... the technical wonder that is the world of video games really does hold a special place in my heart. I love the adventure, the intrigue, the chance to be anyone... and I suppose yes, you could argue that I am actually doing those things right now, “IRL,” but I guess there's a part of me that is still enchanted by the shiny packaging no matter how hard I sometimes want to believe otherwise. I mean come on, I'm also a belly dancer; you can't deny a penchant for glitz & sparkle is part of that. I love to perform. I love beauty. I'm an artist, dammit, and the four right chords can make me cry. Life itself is beautiful, yes... but sometimes, as the late, great Dave Scheidecker helped me argue in my OO freshman year, we need art not just for art's sake but for ours.

I have historically gone through bouts of feeling like my only gift was an eye for art, and art is ultimately superfluous, and therefore I couldn't offer anything useful to the world. One person in particular took it upon himself to valiantly try to convince me otherwise some years back, but I always had my doubts that art really is genuinely important. Or rather, I feel like when other people do it it can be amazing and inspiring, but my own work somehow always falls short.

Then again, that's part of being an artist. You're always your own worst critic.

I think I may finally be ready to embrace that part of myself. I went to college for a degree in Game Art & Design and dropped out after I decided I didn't want to sit in front of a computer all day (and that it would take an ungodly amount of hours outside of class to develop enough skill to be truly great at my work). “Games,” I thought, “are frivolous. We don't need them. When the power goes out, what good have I done?” Art doesn't keep you warm, it doesn't feed you. It's not practical. I should learn to build something instead, or maybe I should learn something medical. I should apprentice and get a technical job, maybe learn to build solar panels or repair wind turbines. That stuff is useful. Right?

I've tried a variety of those things, and I keep coming back to art. Art is what makes me happy. Creation is where I feel at home. Finding beauty in the world and then finding a way to express it so everyone else can see it too is what makes me feel alive. I still don't particularly want to become a game developer (although since I've discovered Steam and since Steam has rolled out their Green Light initiative, I do consider it now and then), but I think if I can find a way to let games back into my every day life, into my own creativity, I might be better off. And you know what? Maybe it's true that games and art and dance and all the other beautiful, fun things in the world don't truly change anything, but if they make us happy for a while and you indulge responsibly – as with any other potentially addictive but otherwise harmless activity – is it really so useless? Someone has to bring beauty to those who can't find it themselves, and why shouldn't that someone be me?

I still have dreams of introducing a responsible waste disposal system to India, and of course I'd love to see freedom for Tibet... I enjoy teaching and knowing that I am directly affecting people's lives in a way that could truly change the course of their futures. Maybe I'll keep doing that too. I need art for my own happiness, though, and if the simple act of watching a well-done animated film about vintage arcade games can literally bring me to tears, if my mind wanders during a lecture and all I can think about for days afterward is an as-yet-secret-project that is also very directly related to game culture, if every so often I can't rest until I've drawn my own version of an NPC because I think the devs dropped the ball on making that one boss as terrifying as she should have been... and especially if something I do can also bring beauty and happiness to someone else, and especially if that someone else is willing to spend some cash to get it, then why shouldn't I? Why shouldn't I embrace my geekiness, embrace the fact that I'm a gamer kid at heart even if I don't actually spend many hours with a controller anymore, and see if I can make a living off of bringing joy to others like myself?

For some of us, games are not just a fun activity to do at parties with friends. They aren't (always) a waste of time. For some of us, games are a part of who we are. I've felt guilty about it and I've tried to deny it, but I've had some time for introspection since I've been here, away from everyone and everything I've ever known, and one of the things I've come to understand is that maybe it's just part of who I am. There has to be a balance, of course, but maybe the world of video games is not as superfluous and unnecessary as I was once convinced. Maybe it's a tool, a stepping stone on which to be inspired to create even more art and beauty and community. Maybe that's not such a bad thing.

My name is Magda Ksiazak, and I am a gamer. I'm an artist, a dreamer, and a creator. I'm through letting people, society, and my own self-consciousness tell me it's immature and something to hide, and I'm going to make it work for me. There is a whole community of us out there, and I think I'm ready to be proud to be a part of it.

Game on, my friends.

Good at words

Oh hai there, friends. It's been a decent few days, though not ones that are particularly remarkable. We went down to Lower Dharamsala again and swung in to a few fabric stores.

Note the stack of "monk burgundy" in the front.

I really wish we had lots of little fabric stores like this near home. There are a lot of bolts of synthetic material I'd probably never choose to use, but there is also an awful lot of really nice cotton. I'm tempted to buy a whole bunch of it and ship it home, though I'm not sure it would actually be any cheaper once transportation costs are figured in.

Oh! I found this! :D

I have no idea what the actual event is about, but "So Many Socks" is something this knitter wasn't about to simply ignore. Every so often I see Tibetan women knitting as they tend their street stalls. Usually they are using brightly colored acrylic, but once in a while I see one knitting something, socks perhaps, out of a nice subtly-colored wool. I always want to start a conversation but don't, because I don't have anything to show myself. I guess I could show them my tattoo and be like "See? I knit too!" Maybe one of these days I'll go for it.

In other news, another new teacher arrived today. We were on our way up to McLeod for a short tour when an incense box dropped from above us. It was a little unexpected and startling, and sure enough:

Monkeys.

The one started sauntering right for us, not menacingly but deliberately, and so we retreated a bit just in case. The last thing we wanted was a monkey bite. Rinzin had actually just told us that her sister had been bitten by a monkey earlier in the week, so it was fresh in my mind as a distinct possibility.

They lost interest within a few minutes, so we continued on our way.

At one of the shops in town I spotted these creepy mannequins:

I suppose the phrase "creepy mannequin" is redundant...

At one of the shops on Jogiwara Road, the Indian proprietor made a point of telling us that it was our store, not his, and that we should not feel pressured at all. "Come in any time, and take your time! Look at everything!" This was the same guy who responded to Verity's compliment that a shawl she tried on was very pretty with "It is not pretty, madam. You are pretty." Lol. I've gotta give him credit for being a pretty good salesman.

We circled through town and got back to Tibet Charity in time for dinner. Once a month they provide a nice dinner for all of us teachers as a way to say thank you for volunteering. Tonight's menu included, along with the usual rice, cauliflower cooked in a whole bunch of garlic, and delicious roasted potatoes. Yum! As someone who spent a considerable amount of time being a broke college kid, I have developed an appreciation for free meals.

The director, by the way, expressed considerable appreciation for the supplies that you guys have sent here. He was telling us that there is some red tape that makes it difficult for them to accept money from foreigners, so donations of actual stuff is often more useful. We may be looking to get more flash cards, puzzles, and other such materials.

In class, my students read an article today about Okinawa and how its people are some of the healthiest, longest-lived in the world. We were studying adverbs of frequency (always, usually, often, never, that sort of thing). It was another one of those days when I said "ok guys, take a few minutes and read this article, then we'll discuss it" and then I kept getting called over to define words that were new for them. I eventually decided that my strategy could use some rethinking and so I reined them all in, did a group vocab lesson, and we read through the article together. I think they get it, but sometimes they surprise me. Their homework for the weekend is to write a page comparing their home to Okinawa, and what are the similarities and differences?

Last night Brij, Marie, and I got together and played a Scrabble-esque game called Bananagrams. I'd heard about it in the past, but had never really played it. We came up with some good words, I think.

"Pristine," "mediators," and "dewclaw"... Yeah, we're good at words.

I think we may use these in class with the students sometime. I'm interested to see what kind of things they come up with.