exile.

sorry, this is neither running nor cycling related.

most of you who know me well remember Rabje, the Tibetan monk I met in India. His story is one I'll never forget. More than two years after meeting him, I still think of him. What he endured taught me that I don't have problems- just annoyances. I have food, clothing, shelter, and family, all of which I take for granted. Just remembering this has moved me to give back more and has made my life more rewarding.

To repay him for the fantastic gift of perspective that he gave me, I've at his request sent him shoes, a little spending money, and little things to help his studies. We've stayed in touch. He left the Tibetan-in-exile community of Dharamsala and went to Delhi to study.

I received a somewhat startling email this week. He's in New York. He somehow got an Indian passport and a 3-year student visa to come to the US. He's been here a few weeks and wanted to call me. He might visit Chicago but he's just dealing with New York now, sticking with the Tibetan community, who has helped him very, very much.

"Dealing." His English still isn't great, but that's the word he used. Imagine it. You're from Tibet, you've lived in India, and you get off the plane in New York for the first time... and call it home. Your first subway, your first tall buildings, your first automatic-flushing toilet, your first barrage of neon. Crazy. I think about the feeling I get when I leave the airport in a continent I've never been to before, then add to that knowing that you have no real return date and it's home. Yowsa. I asked him about his family and he restated the obvious: they can't leave Tibet anyway, so whether he's in Northern India or the USA doesn't matter much, he's never going to see them again.

Just wanted to share. I really hope he comes to visit. He's such an amazing person and has traveled so far. Perspective.