Each year, during the preparatory stage of the learning journey to India, I ask the seniors to reflect on what they hope to gain from the experience, individually and collectively. Together, we consider a series of guiding questions so that they can tease out their thinking and be purposeful in their intention setting. As part of this process, the senior class selects a word that will serve as a compass on their journey; something that can anchor them to their purpose.
Language is fascinating. Entire concepts and complex ideas can be captured in one single word, and at times the complexity contained within that word is almost impossible to fully translate. The word the seniors selected this year is one such word: Yatra.
Roughly translated, Yatra is a journey that helps free us from mental and physical conditioning. It is a journey of rediscovery of self. This single word, in its complexity, perfectly encapsulates what the senior class hopes to gain from their learning journey.
We invite you to follow along as we embark on this journey of rediscovery of self.
The 2026 journey to India will take place February 13 – March 1.
McLeod Ganj is a bustling town in the Himalayan foothills and has turned out to be one of our most important stops, both expectedly and unexpectedly. In the Delhi airport, we met a nun, Tenzin Lamdon and a monk named Geshe Lharampa Gyaltsen Tsering. They had flown into Delhi from Brazil at the same time we flew from California, an occurrence that was part of our karma as they would later explain. Shannon and Carson spoke to them while boarding our plane to Dharamshala and set up an interview for the same day.
The interview began at 4pm though we got a little lost. Our new friends welcomed us with smiles and a brief explanation of their new training center which they were just starting to move into. It was being set up to teach monks during their Geshe training and to offer teachings to the larger community.
Our first question was about the meaning of our trip’s name, Shunyata. This one word had a 45 minute long explanation. In brief. It means emptiness, not in the sense that nihilism says that nothing really matters at all, but an emptiness of independence. An acknowledgement that nothing exists without reference to others. If it were just me, I would have no name, no features, no personality, no senses. But with the presence of other things, I am a full being. They stressed that understanding and reflecting on the fact of Shunyata brings a great deal of “merit” to a person. I understood “merit” to mean good karma that a learning person gets from asking and discussing the right questions.
During the explanation of shunyata, Geshe Gyaltsen said something that interested me; that we know the four elements deteriorate and as the body is made of those elements so do our bodies. I find the interplay of religion and science to be extremely interesting so I decided to ask a question concerning entropy and reincarnation. Unfortunately, I misunderstood what Geshe Gyaltsenmeant by the deteriorating elements. The deterioration of the elements implied a reconstitution of them; this follows the first law of thermodynamics but not the third, entropy. The answer I got, regardless of whether it answered what I thought I was asking, was no less interesting. The monk spoke on exactly how “reincarnation” works in Buddhism. Again in short, there are three levels of the body and spirit. The tangible, subtle and, super subtle. As a person is dying their body and spirit deteriorate down to a super subtle state. For the body that is decomposition. The spirit loses its senses and is left only with “karmic imprints,” markings of actions that carry on to the next life. After both have reached a super subtle state they begin to reconstitute as a baby grows.
Our trip continues to enlighten me on many ways of thinking. It has only been two days so far. I can’t imagine what I’ll have learned at the end of it all. -Mordecai Coleman
MMS Talk with Tenzin Lamdon and Geshe Lharampa Gyaltsen Tsering
On the first day we arrived in India we went out to a store that specializes in Sarees. It was three stories tall and full of people looking to buy and others trying to sell. The top floor was “running fabric.” We didn’t visit it but I believe it is for people who are looking to buy large fabric pieces. The next floor was the thin silks and cottons. This is where we spent our time shopping.
Amelie peering through the textiles
There was so much diversity in color pattern and texture. Some of the cloth was firmly woven cotton with gold woven into the base as an accent, others were made of a soft cotton and silk mix that had hand painted patterns. I looked at one saree that was so thinly woven you could see right through it. It had a floral pattern stitched onto it in thick white sting. I had never seen anything like it.
Finally, the bottom floor was for fancy occasions. This was where people looked for more formal Sarees with heavy fabric and rich embroidered patterns. It was fascinating for me to see all of the variety in patterns, styles, textures, and prices of different sarees. Before coming to India I did a project for Values class where I researched the history of indian clothes. It was incredible to see in person the things that I had studied. I also appreciated seeing how meaningful the pieces of fabric were to the people shopping.
Lagi, Chloe, Emi deplane in Dharmshala Mordecai admiring the bright huesOff the Plane in DharmshalaAmelie peering through the textilesLagi Sari shoppingHotel DharmsalaGroup Photo Serkong HouseWide-Eyed ChloeLagi in Stillness, New Delhi ChaosAmelie Nighttime New DelhiNash in DharmshalaCrew Deplaning
On February 14th, the Mount Madonna School senior class will embark on the 2025 Learning Journey to India as part of their Values in World Thought class. They chose to name their trip “Shunyata.” Shunyata means, “True nature of reality” or “emptiness.”
As part of their trip preparation, the seniors were asked to reflect on the purpose of their upcoming trip and to set intentions and goals. Here are excerpts from some of their writings. – Shannon
Shunyata is a Tibetan word that means “Emptiness.” More precisely, empty from an independent reality. In Buddhism, it is interpreted as the “true nature of reality.” We chose this name because we wanted the theme of the trip to be centered around being in the present, accepting change in perspective, and openness to the unknown. These are all aspects of traveling to a new country, especially one as vibrant and culturally diverse as India. We will be subject to new experiences and pushed out of our comfort zone in many ways.
Manumailagi Hunnicutt
“For me, this learning journey will be a test of my capability to be open to experiences, as well as a lesson and gift that will teach me things about myself. This is something that I will not take for granted or forget. I am excited for the journey ahead.” – Manumailagi Hunnicutt
Chloe Smith
“While on this trip, I hope to fully immerse myself in the culture. Everything is going to be different, but that’s what makes it exciting. The food, the places, the people, the clothes, the art, and such a rich history. The preparation for our interviews has been an amazing experience. I have learned so much about the organization CORD. Doing research on Dr. Metre and learning about her passion for doing good has been essential in grasping the intricacies of CORD’s mission and its effects on local communities. I’m particularly impressed by their approach to rural development, which tackles healthcare, disability rights, education, economic opportunities, social justice, and women’s empowerment. I’m eager to hear Dr. Metre’s stories and connect what we’ve learned in class with her real-world experiences.” – Chloe Smith
If we want to go back far enough, I guess you could say that the concepts and ideas that have contributed to my preparation for the trip have been told to me since I could understand words. Keeping an open mind, being present, listening to others, being kind, being prepared, and knowing yourself. That’s one reason why I resonate with “Shunyata.” All the things that have prepared me have been with me since the start. They’ve just been re-interpreted as I’ve grown and have taken on more complex meanings.
Mordecai Coleman
“I resonate with the name of our trip because it acknowledges that there is no single existence and that all things are connected and give each other meaning. This is something I hope to solidify in my mind with the added experiences of a new culture. Overall, I want to keep an open mind and try everything that is offered to me.” – Mordecai Coleman
In addition to visiting many sites, such as the Taj Mahal, and interviewing individuals such as Dr. Metre and Lama Chogyal, we will spend time at Sri Ram Ashram, and visit organizations, such as CORD, Aasraa Trust, and CED Society.
For more information about the organizations we will visit please follow these links:
The seniors are raising money to donate to organizations they will be visiting. You can support their efforts by donating directly and/or buying trip merchandise.
Today, in our more than eight hour drive to Agra from Haridwar, I found myself looking outside the window to the passing Indian freeway. I imagine anyone reading this who has traveled eight hours in one sitting before would know, you get bored. Then the question arises, how do you keep yourself entertained when time seems to come to a halt? I had attempted to solve this problem before, on our initial five hour drive to Haridwar, by trying to spot the moped scooter with the most people on it. This kept me enthralled for a solid 15 minutes, as I observed the number of persons on these scooters slowly increase, until I finally reached my India all time record of seven persons per one scooter! Far from the Guinness world record of 58 people on a moving motorcycle, but still quite an impressive feat on a motorbike only made to seat two.
So, as I observed out the window on this eight hour ride, looking upon wooden cart fruit shops, with my eyes halfway open, and my back sore from hours of travel; suddenly a spark of an idea floated into my brain, that would soon turn into a full blown inferno. This spark came from a seemingly innocuous object we had seen everywhere we drove this entire trip, the beauty and opulence of Indian delivery trucks.
With my interest peaked, questions started to flood my head with the power of a monsoon, why decorate these trucks? Does the style of illustration and decoration differ from state to state or driver to driver? Does the art serve a purpose beyond decoration? Are there professional truck Picasso’s? But most importantly, what can we take away and bring into our own daily lives from these humble trucks and drivers? These were questions that, in my opinion, must be answered! So with nothing but a phone, notebook and a burning desire to learn more, I began my curiosity driven exploration into the wold of Indian trucking
So how did this all start?
It all started in the 1920s in British occupied India, with the importation of British military trucks. These trucks carried a variety of cargo, from weapons to people, but the cargo essential to the beginning of truck painting is kerosene. These trucks carrying highly flammable substances would have the words “Horn Please” written on the back, graciously asking whoever was driving behind them to sound their horn while passing the truck. Soon phrases from origins in driver safety, such as “Horn Please” and “Use Dipper At Night” became commonplace on trucks in India, and are still seen today. In the 1940s, companies began to paint trucks with company iconography, and logos, as an attempt to advertise their business. Shantanu Suman, a graphic designer and filmmaker who created the 2013 film “Horn Please”, in a interview with CNN travel had this to say about the state of advertisement on Indian trucks: “Imagine the truck is like a moving billboard. It travels from one side of the country to the other, carrying the message of the truck driver and owner.” And, “A better looking truck attracts more business.”
How does the art vary from region to region?
Each state of India has its own unique truck art scene. For instance, there is a style divide between Northern and Southern India, the South keeping a more conservative approach to motorized mosaics by maintaining minimalism, keeping plain interiors and exteriors. Opposed to the Northern Indian scene which embraces the opulence with large hand painted scenes and hanging tassels from the front of each truck. For example, the truck that flicked the metaphorical “light switch” in my head, had a cartoon painted rendition of the Taj Mahal on the rear gate of the truck, from the maximalist design and myself, being in Northern India.
All creeds and colors drive these trucks, so a large range of religious iconography is often painted by drivers to emphasize who is behind the wheel, symbols such as the mother and calf, star and sickle, cross, Om and many more! These small accoutrements can help drivers who spend 10 months out of the year working away from their loved ones feel like they are home away from home..
What can we take away from these motorized Michelangelo’s and Michelangela’s? Besides curing my boredom, and giving me design inspiration for my car back at home, these drivers and their noble motorized steeds serve as a reminder that we can add color and joy to the seemly mundane parts of our lives and just because you have to work doesn’t mean that you can’t make every moment your own. That artistic self expression is not limited to “Creative careers” and that everyone, no matter the occupation can benefit and express joy by showing who they are.
During our time at Sri Ram Ashram, we were introduced to a prayer tradition called Arati. Arati is performed and celebrated by the Ashram kids every night before dinner, but it extends beyond just the Sri Ram Ashram; it’s a part of Hindu culture. Arati entails a ritual of devotional singing and prayer towards Hindu deities. It is a time of passionate praise and worship, vastly different from what I have witnessed in Western culture. Observing the kids treat Arati with such respect and focus was inspiring. Children ranging from around ages three to eighteen come together selflessly to devote themselves to a higher purpose. Despite my expectations based on experiences in the West, I was mistaken in anticipating misbehavior and distractions among the children.
Arati is performed before a shrine holding various Hindu statues and pictures, along with a flame lit in praise of the deities. However, it’s the rhythm and melody of the Arati songs that moved me the most. I was taken aback when the drumming for Arati began. Initially, I had seen very young children holding drums, and I hadn’t expected much rhythmic competence. I anticipated a simple four-beat rhythm, similar to clapping along with a song. However, the young musicians demonstrated a unique rhythm with specific emphasis, transitioning from a four-beat to a seven-beat time signature seamlessly. This amazed me, as Western music rarely incorporates such exotic time signatures. Even very experienced musicians I have met would struggle with this concept. To the children, however, it was second nature. The drummers interacted with each other, playing separate parts at times, thus creating a more diverse rhythmic structure. Then, in unison, they would completely change the rhythm as required by the Arati song. As I attended Arati more frequently, I noticed that most of the kids could participate in the drumming with a sufficient level of understanding. Initially surprising, I later realized that since they had Arati every day, this proficiency was understandable. It was beautiful to see how the children absorbed this rhythmic feel at such a young age, much like learning a language through immersion.
Another aspect that amazed me was their patience, particularly during a call-and-response section of the song led by one of the older kids. The phrase was sung, and then it was up to everybody else to repeat it rhythmically. Initially, my classmates and I rushed the beat, a common issue among American musicians, especially younger ones. However, the children from the ashram repeated back slowly and meticulously, without any sense of urgency, perfectly in time with one another and relaxed in their execution. While I’m uncertain why they possess this rhythmic acuity, I’m inclined to attribute it to their presence in the moment, something that the United States is known to lack.
These experiences have altered my perspective on music and how I intend to conduct myself as a musician in the future. Patience and presence are key.
Beatrice Miller
Once a year, a group of bright-eyed seniors spend a brief week at Sri Ram Ashram. It’s a week of close-knit meals, friendly playtime competition, and comforting Aarti evenings. The memories made at the ashram impact these twelfth graders lives forever, marking their time in India with joyful energy, and then they leave.
Now, as it is my turn to experience this journey to Sri Ram, I try to remember the reality of the people who live at this orphanage. They grow up in the magical world that I only have the privilege to visit. They have not one, but three mothers. Each woman who is dedicated to loving these children and ensuring they know they are cared for. They have a village of friends, siblings even, with whom they grow up. The ashram is more than just a week out of my India trip; it’s the chance to meet a whole family. A chance for me to make connections so that I may bond with girls my age, a few days to learn about their interests, habits, and games, and to become their Didi (which means older sister in Hindi) and hold their hand all day long. I don’t have any sisters, yet now I have so many little ones. Little sisters, even brothers, who have come from all walks of life. They have written me letters and woven beautiful little bracelets for me to wear, tokens of their love and appreciation for how much my time means to them. I wish I could stay longer at my home away from home.
As a 17-year-old high school student, embarking on a two-week learning journey to India, I find myself overwhelmed with a sense of privilege and gratitude. In a world where opportunities are not equally possible to all, I recognize the immense fortune that has been placed in front of me with the chance to explore the beautiful tapestry of India’s culture, music, religions, and vast diversity. Day by day, as I dive deeper into the intricacies of Indian culture, my journey extends beyond mere sightseeing; it delves deep into my heart and soul of learning and understanding someone else’s culture.
Every single person we interview, shopkeeper I bargain with, and every namaste I speak with a bowed head, shows me that I am privileged to interact with individuals whose lives are filled with a richness that surpasses material wealth. Their warmth, hospitality, and unwaveringness are a touching reminder of the inherent dignity and humanity that unites us all. Though, even as I celebrate the richness of my experiences, I keep mindful of the complexities that accompany privilege. In this world, where inequality and injustice are persistent, it is incumbent upon me to recognize my privilege not as a badge of superiority, but as a platform for empathy, understanding, and meaningful action. On Saturday, as I bid farewell to the beautiful land of India, I carry with me not only memories of its breathtaking landscapes and vibrant cultures, but a renewed sense of purpose and responsibility.
Today, our visit to Woodstock School in Mussoorie proved incredibly inspiring for me. This boarding school is distinguished by its commitment to various core values, one of the main ones being service. We discussed the historical roots of service, traditionally associated with religion, and considered its evolution into something sought after by colleges, often devoid of its original altruistic essence. This transformation reduces acts of service to nothing more than checkboxes on applications, devoid of genuine intent to help others. Woodstock tries to preserve the purity of service for its intrinsic value by encouraging students to start clubs and projects only with genuine interest in them, and to avoid creating these things simply to boost a resume. The teachers work closely with students, and since I plan to become a teacher, I felt that was something I would like to remember when working with students.
Later, over tea, we had the privilege of conversing with journalist Ranjona Banerji, who highlighted a similar loss of authenticity in journalism. While the United States remains a “North Star” of authentic journalism, much of the industry has become solely for entertainment rather than delivering substantial news. Banerji emphasized the importance of confronting controversial topics and discussed the current trend of media catering solely to personal, preconceived beliefs, thereby stifling meaningful dialogue among diverse perspectives. Our society has become isolated, and we avoid contentious topics crucial for progress. Acknowledging and embracing our differences is incredibly important to prevent further fragmentation and foster genuine understanding. Banerji poignantly reminded us that despite our differences, fundamental human emotions remain universal. She urged each generation to appreciate the nuances of individual experiences, encouraging empathy and dialogue. She said, “Remember what you were like when you were young so you don’t lose that part of you.”I feel that was a strong theme today, not just as a person, but as a society.
In conclusion, our experience at Woodstock School and the insightful conversation with Ranjona Banerji emphasized the critical need for preserving authenticity in service and journalism, fostering dialogue, and embracing diversity to navigate the complexities of our ever-evolving society. These lessons resonate deeply, serving as guiding principles for personal and collective growth.
Bella Sol Padilla
Towards the end of our India trip, while up on the mountain of Mussoorie, we had the opportunity to have a tour of a school called Woodstock. Similar to Mount Madonna, Woodstock is surrounded by mountains and picturesque scenery. Although the weather is usually mild and sunny, we visited on a cold and foggy day. As the mist of the fog blew, my classmates and I hiked up the mountain to the school. The school itself is well maintained, which I found interesting because Woodstock is one of the oldest international boarding schools in India. I would assume the students attending Woodstock would get their mountain legs quickly as our day was filled with climbing steps and trekking through woods.
The leader of the tour, Jamie, who is the Director of the Center for Imagination, walked us through the beautiful campus. She spoke to Woodstock’s diverse community. India is well known for being a melting pot of diverse cultures and religions. Naturally, I wasn’t surprised when Jamie told the group that Woodstock fosters students from 36 different countries. It took me a minute to process as my classmates and I all come from the same state.
Beatrice, one of my classmates, asked Jamie how Woodstock managed to fulfill the needs of students with different language barriers. Jamie explained that there is actually a project in the works that is about native languages and translation. The three main languages taught at Woodstock are English, Hindi, and French. However, it seems that this project will help create more space for students who speak specific languages. Jamie pointed out that through the process of translation, meaning can get lost, so students who participate in the project will have the opportunity to write a piece in their mother tongue, and translate it into English. The purpose is to observe translation and allow the students to express themselves in the language most comfortable to them.
One of Woodstock’s main principles is service. Woodstock has historical roots as a Christian school, however, students of all backgrounds and religions are welcomed. Something I noticed is that the act of service or giving back to the community plays a large role in any religion, not just Christianity. Students are given the time and space to invent new ways to give back to the community. Whether through their annual fundraisers to raise charity, or through volunteering at local hospitals, students are surrounded by this culture of giving.
It made me reflect on a community service project my class is involved in. At our school we have pioneered a project that will help restore the lake on campus, called the Lotus Project. This culture is not just prevalent in the school but in all of India as well. I hope to take this culture of giving back home with me and incorporate it into my own work.
Sophia Manzur
For the longest time, I have found it difficult to feel empathetic towards individuals with opposing opinions. I think my family can attest to this, especially when I feel passionately about certain social issues. As humans, we crave, yearn, and fight for our individuality. That being said, it is easier to categorize ourselves with others who feel similarly, rather than finding a middle ground and coming to the realization that we are all human beings. People (especially politicians) have taken advantage of this and have used it for their own political agendas. We get so concerned with our own views that we don’t realize that sometimes, we are fighting for the same exact thing.
Today my class had the honor of having a conversation with Ranjona Banerji. Banerji is an Indian journalist who is best known for her insightful and analytical writing. In her time as a journalist, she has contributed to prominent publications, giving them a unique perspective on various social, political, and cultural issues. Banerji’s thought-provoking pieces have set her apart from other journalists in the industry, establishing her as a respected voice in the realm of journalism.
What I find most inspiring about her work is she tries to breathe humanity into the piece. When reading pieces about certain controversial topics, it is easy to lose the humanity within them. Although I think it is important to have pieces that have a sense of neutrality to them, I find it innovative of her to incorporate her own personality into the piece.
Ranjona Banerji
Banerji also spoke on understanding the different generations. Younger people, like myself, have been trying to change certain customs that have been embedded into our society for hundreds of years. Banerji said that when she was young, her generation was trying to do the exact same thing that my generation is trying to achieve so she tries to remember her own perspective from when she was young to further understand ours. I found this quite beautiful because there can be a notion that you need to shed your old self to become something new. I also see that many people are ashamed or embarrassed of their younger self, which they shouldn’t be.
Through this conversation, I gathered that even if the opposing opinion is hard to hear, you should still listen, ask questions, and try to understand it. You don’t necessarily have to agree, but it is a step further to finding our common ground. When I grow older, I hope to carry my younger self with me so I am able to understand others and hopefully bridge the gaps within our society.
