An Amazing Day

Yesterday was an amazing day.

Tomer and I purposely arrived in Dharamsala about a month earlier than was required to begin work on the girls' soccer program. We knew that for most of September and the first couple of weeks of October, the members of the Tibetan National Sports Association would be in South India for their annual men's soccer tournament. We planned to arrive in mid-September anyway so that we could settle in, relax and enjoy ourselves a bit after the summer's work.  And we did.  At one point I began to feel antsy (as I usually do when I don't have an active project), but easily distracted myself with a three-day meditation course, long afternoon visits with old friends and several bouts of severe diahrrea.

In fact, I've been enjoying myself so much in this vibrant community that I nearly forgot the reason that these Tibetans are living here in India.  But the other night, late, during a long walk home from an outlying village with friends, I was brutally reminded. A good Tibetan friend, Tsering, a 26-year-old guy with great English and an infectious laugh, ran ahead a bit on the pot-holed road.  As a few of us trailed behind, I noticed that Tsering was having some trouble walking, and kept tripping over himself. I knew he had a problem with his feet, but I just figured it was a simple injury or something. Then I was told that, no, it was not a simple injury. Tsering had walked across the Himalayas as a child. With his mother, he had risked his life to escape Chinese oppression, and during the long journey, he has succumbed to frost bite.  Part of his feet had been amputated.

This reality hit me hard. Most of the time, the Tibetans in Dharamsala are so positive about life, never complaining, never playing the victim.  I had known Tsering a while, and he had never even mentioned what had happened to him.  I was reminded that every refugee has a story, most of which are incredibly scary and painful. My purpose for being here was on the forefront of my mind again. And just in time.

That morning I sent an email to Kalsang Dhondup, the head of the Tibetan National Sports Association and my main contact here, letting him know that I was here waiting for him and ready to get started once he returned. An hour later, he called. He had just arrived.

Tomer and I opted to hike the 5 km through the woods in order to reach the Tibetan Children's Village, home to 2000 Tibetan youth and the head offices of the Sports Association. As we climbed up the hill, through the pine forest, I couldn't help but notice a few butterflies in my stomach. I had been planning this program for over 1 year now. I had called upon my friends, family and everyone I knew to help.  I was scared that I had somehow misinterpreted all the emails, imagined the need for a girls' soccer program and exaggerated my role in this community and in this project.  We passed an area in which small stone huts are scattered up a steep slope - temporary homes of monks and nuns in retreat - and I felt my posture recover, my confidence renewed.

My fears were for nothing. The first meeting with Kalsang-La could not have gone better. The plan for the program had been communicated clearly. We were all on the same page. We were wanted. All the preparation during the past year had been worth the effort. We also met with the Education Minister of the Tibetan Children's Village. He, also, was incredibly welcoming and enthusiastic about our arrival.  We all discussed some of the ins and outs, and decided that the first thing to get working on would be a one-week coaches training program for all adults interested in becoming Tibet's first girls' soccer coaches.  The training will take place the last week of November, and we will be providing room and board plus a full schedule of activities for about 20 coaches for 5 days!

We walked back to down, practically skipping. We met an Austrian friend, Thomas, for tea at a cafe that overlooks an elementary school in town. Down below, on a concrete court, two 5-boy teams were playing an organized soccer game, complete with screaming mothers and pacing dads. The game ended, and a bunch of kids started kicking the ball around just for fun. Thomas and I looked at each other. Down we went!

For the next two hours, we organized a full scale, impromptu soccer practice for the kids. I found that I was able to communicate with them all clearly, that there was almost no language barrier. When we split up into teams to scrimmage, the boys didn't want to be on my team. It's alright though. I showed them! We won 5-0! All in the name of publicity!

Only one little girl was hanging around as we played.  She was a bit too timid to join, but I asked her, "Would you like to play soccer? Would you like a girls' soccer team?" She smiled so wide. She said YES.

Jake Budlow, Peace Passers & Tibet Women's Soccer!

Somewhere in the middle of the ocean there floats a container ship. On this said container ship, somewhere squeezed between massive steel boxes, sits a relatively tiny, shrink-wrapped bundle filled with soccer gear bound for the Himalayas. Nearly a year ago, I contacted an organization called Peace Passers, who act as 'brokers' of used, donated soccer equipment. A few months later, my parents' garage in Normandy Beach was filled with stuff, thanks in part to a high school kid named Jake Budlow.


Jake is an amazing person, and I imagine a lot of it has to do with his equally amazing parents, all of whom I had the pleasure of meeting when they braved the hellish Jersey Shore summer traffic and drove down from Chatham, NJ to drop off all that Jake had collected.  In 2009 Jake ran his first gear drive, and collected over 190 pairs of soccer cleats for a program in Rwanda. This year, he decided to do it again, and Tibet Women's Soccer was the lucky recipient. This time he collected 160 pairs of cleats, 60 pairs of shin guards, 20 uniforms, goalie shirts, goalie gloves and even a few soccer bags.


In the US, many of us forget how privileged we are to be able to purchase a new pair of cleats every season, or a new set of fancy uniforms for our team each year. So many of these items get thrown out when they are actually still in great, functional shape. Consider starting a gear drive in your own school or community to recycle these types of items for redistribution to a community-in-need. Peacepassers.org will be more than happy to help you distribute them.


Now let's just hope the gear makes it to Delhi! Stay tuned for details on that inevitable adventure...

Check out Jake's story & Peace Passers here:
http://peacepassers.org/jake-budlow-shining-bright

This Time Is Different

As our shabby bus curved through the foothills of the mighty Dalhoudar range, I could not shake the feeling that this time would be different.  Suffering from an extreme bout of jet lag, I lay back in my seat and watched the Indian countryside roll by to the light of the full moon.  This time would be different.

My past four extended stays in Dharamsala were about me.  Finding myself was the primary objective.  Although I had some minor commitments to students I tutored and to the local vipassana meditation center in the past, my days remained largely my own.  I lived free from serious obligation.  I could go home whenever I pleased.  This time, I have a very different task – to give Tibetan girls the tools they need to find themselves through soccer.  I have made a commitment to stay here for at least one year.  This commitment is not only to myself, or to the Tibetan National Sports Association.  Right now, it feels as if the commitment is primarily to the nearly 200 individuals back in the US who donated their time and money to even making the idea of this project possible.  My entire world is watching, waiting, to see what transpires during my time here.  And I feel it.

I still feel like my body has not yet allowed me to fully experience the emotions tied to receiving so much support from my friends, family & community back home.  I can feel the intense gratitude being stored somewhere in my chest and in my throat, and except for a few random bubblings-up from time to time, I don’t think I can handle it in its full force, at least not yet.  I like to think of this gratitude being stored as my fuel tank to get me through this project, this new phase in my life.  When a new challenge presents itself, when I find myself in a tight spot or trying to juggle a tough decision it is to this store of inspiration that I will turn.

For now, Tomer and I will take a couple of weeks to find a great apartment, make it into a home & settle ourselves in to the rhythm of life in this small, refugee community before starting on the monumental tasks that lay ahead.  Now it is still monsooning, and we are receiving at least 2 inches of rain per day.  In this, the second rainiest spot in all of India, it’s hard to do much in the way of soccer.  I think it’s meant to be.  Time to reflect, build up our energy, & get ready to make our next move.  Hopefully the rains will stop by October.

My Speech from Tibet Women's Soccer Fundraiser 8/6/11

I want to tell you a little about what your presence here tonight means.  Six years ago I traveled from Normandy Beach to the far north of India to a small Himalayan town called Dharamsala.  Dharamsala is home to the Dalai Lama and thousands of other refugees from Tibet. In 1950 Mao Zedong & the Chinese Communist forces invaded the peaceful, sovereign nation of Tibet in order to take advantage of its wealth of natural resources & strategic border with India.  In the process, they stripped Tibetans, a people strongly devoted to their Buddhist religion and peaceful way or life, of their right to practice their religion and live their lives freely.  In 1959, the Dalai Lama, who was then both spiritual and political leader of Tibet, was forced to escape to India due to word that the Chinese planned to have him assassinated.  He has never returned. 

Today, the situation in Tibet continues to grow worse.  The Chinese government has banned the teaching of Tibetan language and history in Tibetan schools.  A forced migration of millions of Han Chinese into the region has taken place in order to drown out Tibetans, and Tibetans found with even a photograph of the Dalai Lama can be killed or brutally tortured.  In response, following the Dalai Lama, every day for the past 52 years a steady stream of Tibetan refugees has been entering India, on foot over the highest mountains in the world, escaping the violence & genocide of their homeland.

I initially went to Dharamsala to volunteer as an English teacher for a few months.  There I met Tomer, my husband, and together our love & respect for Tibetan culture and our resolve to help them in their ongoing plight grew.  Last summer I was back in Dharamsala, and it happened to be during the time of the men’s World Cup of Soccer.  The town was in a frenzy.  Soccer fever had hit the refugee community.  We’d stay up all night watching games, cheering for our favorite teams, and pickup soccer games sprung up on every open patch of grass.  Towards the end of it, I realized that at most of these events & viewings, I was the only female in attendance.  Suddenly, the idea hit me: Tibetan girls & women should be playing soccer.  I played soccer all my life, and now as a coach, I really understand how sports improved my self-confidence & provided a way for me to express myself that nothing else could.  Could soccer serve as a vehicle to improve the lives of Tibetan refugee women?  I posed this question to the President of the Tibetan National Sports Association.  He said yes.  So long story short, an amazing chain of events ensued that led to the formation of Tibet Women’s Soccer.  The program has been approved by the Tibetan government-in-exile, and we will be working in partnership with the Tibetan National Sports Association and Tibetan schools to introduce a formal soccer training program for every girl who wants to participate. 

Being refugees, the Tibetans don’t possess the money or the manpower to make this happen on their own.  So, Tomer & I – and YOU- are going to make it happen for them.  Every penny of the money raised here tonight will go towards purchasing gear, training coaches and providing transportation to and from games.  There are no administrative costs and no salaries.  Every penny to the girls.  The hope is for Tibet Women’s Soccer to grow and grow, and for major corporate funding to latch on once we’re up and running.  But for this first year, the support has come from our own community of friends & family.  It has been unbelievable.  Our dream, and the dreams of hundreds of Tibetan girls, are becoming a reality due to the incredible, unwavering generosity of people like you.  Remember, you are just as much a part of this as Tomer and me.  We could not even fathom taking on a project like this without you.  Thanks to our parents, for supporting this rather unconventional career move.  Thanks to Pita & Emily, for reminding me that anything is possible.  Thanks to all our friends & family members who made tonight’s benefit possible, especially The Pilot House Restaurant, The Chapter House Restaurant & BBQ Bob & The Spareribs. Thanks to everyone who made a donation, whether it was online, in person or here tonight.  We promise to do our absolute best work to make this program a success, in honor of all of you.  Now, have fun, dance the night away, be free, and do it in the spirit of the Tibetan people, who value their freedom above of all else.

Try.

Try asking the universe for your wildest dream to come true.  I'm not talking about winning the lottery, or buying the mansion at the end of the street.  I speak of the awesome, hidden vision of yourself and your life, the one that lives deep down inside your body, somewhere near your heart.  I speak of the knowledge, that only you have, and that you probably won't admit you have, of what you are capable of doing, capable of contributing, capable of experiencing.  I speak of you, in your highest form, in your prime, living the best version of your life, and helping others to do the same.


Many of us don't dare to share it.  We certainly don't dare to ask for it.  It's sad.  Sometimes I wonder why we think so little of ourselves, as to prevent ourselves from finding true happiness and fulfillment.  I was always told as a child that I could do whatever I wanted, be whatever I wanted.  But the meaning of those words never quite hit me until I read this passage by Marianne Williamson (and made famous by Nelson Mandela) in 2003, on a ship in the middle of the ocean:

“Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us. We ask ourselves, Who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented, fabulous? Actually, who are you not to be? You are a child of God. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do. We were born to make manifest the glory of God that is within us. It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others.”


I am beginning to think that there is really something to this idea.  A few years ago, when it made its debut in pop culture, through Oprah, the documentary "The Secret," and many best-selling books, I felt a similar attraction towards its promise of self-fulfillment and the subsequent ability to enable the dreams of others.  So, a few years back, during the happiest period of my life, I tried it out.  Night after night, for many years and still to this day, I requested the universe grant me the opportunity to live my deepest, wildest, truest dream.  And finally, I feel that it's happening.  I don't quite know how, but it is.  Ask, and you shall receive.


So, go ahead.  That little treasure - that vision of yourself and your life that you've been holding deep inside your heart, allow yourself to ask for it.  Fantasize it. Visualize it. Take action. Stop punishing yourself, and do what you've always known, deep down, you can, and should, do.  I dare you.