Tenzin Tsomo, Grade 11
UWC Red Cross Nordic
It was a few weeks after the pandemic. The school kantina once filled with chatters remained barren even at noon. The students still unwounded after the farewells, the sound of old memories echoing in the room.
The people remaining were in dire need of joy, and the joy came in the form of colours. Every year we paint the sky iridescent on the day when Krishna (a Hindu God) smeared colour on Radha's - who was Krishna's beloved's - face. The celebration of their divine love. The day of "Holi". The students from India and Nepal brought paints for the celebration annually. Now with more than half of students gone, the paints remained in their plastic bags; covered with dust.
This was exactly what we needed - the perfect excuse to move away from our grief. We needed to take away the plastic bags and celebrate with the color within.
When they announced that we would celebrate Holi, a new air of excitement broke out in our community. Topics other than the wearisome Coronavirus rose. People seemed more carefree, and teachers' eyes became relieved to see the students doing better. Laughter came back, and everything felt okay once more.
Finally, the famous day came, people put on their worn-out shorts and shirts. We were fully prepared to attack and flee. The temperature was warm and the sky as clear as aphrodite's skin. It was as if the heavens themselves had awaited this day. The buckets came in line. Eyes leapt back and forth with students finding their perfect target; some becoming lone sheep. As the countdown began "THREE, TWO, ONE!!" The calm before the storm broke, and all was chaos.
Shrieks and howls were mixed with vivid hues. People ran away from each other and towards each other - some landing in the fjord and some hiding behind trees. The students far from campus peered through their lenses and threw colors on themselves. The entire scene was havoc, but I found peace within it. This was what UWC was about.
We may have been close at the beginning of the year, we may have laughed and shared our moments together, but the truth is none of that matters when we can't be there for each other in times of need. The pandemic was the challenge that was thrown at us. It was a challenge for every one of us. And we overcame it together. This was the UWC I had hoped to attend. And at last, I saw it.
If UWC was a place, then why would we call it a movement? Our mission did not end the moment we dispersed. It remained, and students stood united in the face of uncertainty, across cultures and across countries. UWC stood united.
The day of Holi was the day I saw what UWC was truly about. It showed me how ceaselessly we found joy in each other time and time again. How we came back to each other time and time again. We have left so much of our comforts behind to attend this school, to follow the ideals and our dreams. And sometimes we forget why we even came to this place. It starts to feel like regular high school, and we forget to connect. We forget the magical possibilities we saw. We lose the stars in our eyes. And in those times I remember Holi, to remember UWC. And then I start to see the possibilities. The UWC I saw at sixteen. The UWC where we are united across cultures and forge ahead to the flamboyant future.
The people remaining were in dire need of joy, and the joy came in the form of colours. Every year we paint the sky iridescent on the day when Krishna (a Hindu God) smeared colour on Radha's - who was Krishna's beloved's - face. The celebration of their divine love. The day of "Holi". The students from India and Nepal brought paints for the celebration annually. Now with more than half of students gone, the paints remained in their plastic bags; covered with dust.
This was exactly what we needed - the perfect excuse to move away from our grief. We needed to take away the plastic bags and celebrate with the color within.
When they announced that we would celebrate Holi, a new air of excitement broke out in our community. Topics other than the wearisome Coronavirus rose. People seemed more carefree, and teachers' eyes became relieved to see the students doing better. Laughter came back, and everything felt okay once more.
Finally, the famous day came, people put on their worn-out shorts and shirts. We were fully prepared to attack and flee. The temperature was warm and the sky as clear as aphrodite's skin. It was as if the heavens themselves had awaited this day. The buckets came in line. Eyes leapt back and forth with students finding their perfect target; some becoming lone sheep. As the countdown began "THREE, TWO, ONE!!" The calm before the storm broke, and all was chaos.
Shrieks and howls were mixed with vivid hues. People ran away from each other and towards each other - some landing in the fjord and some hiding behind trees. The students far from campus peered through their lenses and threw colors on themselves. The entire scene was havoc, but I found peace within it. This was what UWC was about.
We may have been close at the beginning of the year, we may have laughed and shared our moments together, but the truth is none of that matters when we can't be there for each other in times of need. The pandemic was the challenge that was thrown at us. It was a challenge for every one of us. And we overcame it together. This was the UWC I had hoped to attend. And at last, I saw it.
If UWC was a place, then why would we call it a movement? Our mission did not end the moment we dispersed. It remained, and students stood united in the face of uncertainty, across cultures and across countries. UWC stood united.
The day of Holi was the day I saw what UWC was truly about. It showed me how ceaselessly we found joy in each other time and time again. How we came back to each other time and time again. We have left so much of our comforts behind to attend this school, to follow the ideals and our dreams. And sometimes we forget why we even came to this place. It starts to feel like regular high school, and we forget to connect. We forget the magical possibilities we saw. We lose the stars in our eyes. And in those times I remember Holi, to remember UWC. And then I start to see the possibilities. The UWC I saw at sixteen. The UWC where we are united across cultures and forge ahead to the flamboyant future.
www.unitedworldwide.co