If you are looking for travel tips or a list of "must-see" destinations, this isn’t the right place. This isn’t a travel blog; it’s an attempt to process an experience that I know I will never forget.
Traveling through India, trying to understand how such vastly different religions and cultures manage to exist in the same space, is a collision of realities that changes you. I wish everyone could travel like this at least once in their life. You will be confronted by things that go wrong. You will face discomfort and exhaustion. But that is life. Stripping away the comforts of home to see how the rest of the world lives, and realizing just how incredibly lucky you are, is the real process.
It is 2015. I am at the TCV (Tibetan Children’s Village) in Dharamshala. This is my second time in India, having already navigated the typical tourist circuits: the monuments of Agra, the heat of Jaipur, the chaos of Delhi. I’ve seen the beautiful, vast landscapes from the window of a train crossing a country so immense that its regions feel like different worlds.
But this trip wasn’t about tourism.
The TCV was established by the Dalai Lama and is managed by his sister and a dedicated community of supporters. It is a refuge—a place where Tibetan children, and many others in need, can find a home, food, and an education.
To understand the TCV is to understand a much deeper, darker struggle. The Tibetan culture has been systematically persecuted for years under the Chinese occupation of Tibet. The atrocities committed against these people are harrowing, often silencing smaller religious and cultural identities. Many of these children have parents who had to trek across the Himalayas during the freezing winter to reach safety in India. They arrive in Dharamshala, a small village near the mountains, where they try to rebuild a "small Tibet", a sanctuary where they can simply live in peace.
It is easy to get lost in the political abstractions, the clashing rhetoric of 'liberation' versus 'sovereignty,' the contradictions of geopolitical 'democracies' that look the other way when it suits them. Yet, these debates feel entirely secondary to the human cost. Behind the headlines lie thousands of lives fundamentally altered, silenced, or destroyed, simply because their existence is an inconvenience to the rigid narratives of our time.
I’m here as a volunteer, although the reality is that everyone is so kind and welcoming that it almost feels more like I’m visiting than actually working. I spend time in the schools, giving some classes related to electronics and computer science. I try to teach something, but honestly it’s difficult, many of them already have impressive knowledge, and I’m just a 19-year-old traveling through this part of the world trying to understand more myself.
I’ve also helped with some solar panel applications and I play football with the kids whenever I can.
Is this what they truly need? No.
Is this what I can offer right now? Yes.
Living here, in the heart of this community, is an experience in itself. Everyone has been incredibly kind, going to great lengths to make me feel at home. Being invited into their space, sharing their daily rhythm, and seeing how they live has been an eye-opening look into a culture that is as resilient as it is welcoming.
I am deeply grateful to everyone who has supported me and shown me such warmth. This hasn't just been a place to sleep; it has been a front-row seat to a different way of living. I truly believe that to experience this, to be part of this community, even for a short time, is a meaningful privilege that I will carry with me for the rest of my life.