To The Italian Man Sitting Next to Me

On my flight home from Newark to Dulles

I cried about 15 times,

and the poor middle-aged Italian businessman sitting next to me could not understand why the young teen girl near him was sobbing.

Didn’t know of a way to ask.

So to the Italian man who sat next to me on the plane,

Here’s why.

I cried because I miss home,

and I cried because I just left a home.

I cried because, after a month, I would see my family,

and I cried because I just left 14 people who I loved, a different family.

I cried because I missed coffee in the morning,

and I cried because I would not drink milk tea every hour of the day anymore.

I cried because my home has changed while I was away,

and I cried because Ladakh will continue to change without me.

I cried because I just finished a journey,

and I cried because another one lies ahead.

I cried because I missed who I once was,

and I cried because I finally found who I am.

And finally,

I cried because, as one of my instructors said,

it’s better to be affected by the world than indifferent to it.

So, to the Italian man next to me,

Thank you for putting up with my tears.

And to everyone that made this trip possible,

Thank you and Julley.

7_29_18  This poem was published on The Where There Be Dragons, expedition blog "The Yak Board". It was chosen as the "Yak of the Week" and was later published in the 2019 edition of The Dragon Journal.