Of course, the best thing about traveling is the people you encounter, and the opportunity to glimpse at least a small part of their lives and perspectives. This wonderfully diverse--and talkative--subcontinent offers that opportunity in spades.

Here in Mcleodganj, each day I get glimpses into the experiences of the Tibetan and Indian people I'm temporarily living among. Many of my best conversations have been during the informal "Conversation Class" held each weekday afternoon at the Lha office (Lha is the NGO I'm volunteering for as an English teacher). At 4pm, immediately following the Advanced English class, Tibetans (including many monks and a few nuns) and people from around the world all squeeze into a classroom until it's laughably crowded, and divide into small groups to talk together in English for the next hour.

Yesterday and again today, I talked with two vivacious young Tibetan women; one of their friends joined us today. As has been the case with many Tibetans I've talked with here, I learned that they had walked out of Tibet in order to get to India. Generally, Tibetans are noncommittal about their journey here, which had given me the impression that perhaps it hadn't been so terribly difficult to do--sort of a long hike, like the final scene in The Sound of Music. But the conversations I had with these young women yesterday and today indicate otherwise.

One of my new friends walked away from her home at the age of 13, leaving behind her entire family (who had chosen to let her walk to safety). The other was just a few years older when she left her family to travel to India (both are in their 20s now). Each traveled in a group led by a guide (which I've learned is typical); they traveled in different groups and met each other here. Each group traveled first to Nepal along a route over relatively easier terrain. In each case, the trip to Nepal took several weeks. They had to hide during the day and travel only at night, in order to evade Chinese patrols who search the known routes for refugee parties. It was so cold hiding in the snow, and they were at constant risk of being shot or imprisoned during their trip, my young informants cheerfully explained.

Once across the border in Nepal, they were not yet completely safe, because the ties between that country and China have been strengthening in recent years. There was a possibility that they would be turned back to China. In the end, though, both were allowed to travel onward to India. Now that the Nepalese government has been taken over by the Communist Party, my young informants explained, the situation has become much more difficult for people escaping Tibet, because the Nepalese government has become much closer to China, and now is much more likely to turn refugees back or imprison them.

Nevertheless, they told me the same thing that I'd heard from others: that back home in Tibet, the ordinary Chinese people remain very sympathetic to the plight of their Tibetan neighbors. We all thought that in the long term, Tibet's best hope may lie with ordinary Chinese and the changes they may eventually insist on bringing to their country.

Today, our conversation then turned to topics closer to their young hearts: travel and fashion. They had asked where I'm from in the US, so we spent much of our hour inspecting a world map. We digressed for a few minutes to the topic of whether it's true that it stays dark for many weeks in the winter in Alaska (I explained that it is true, and circled one tilted fist around the other to try to demonstrate why). But the conversation then turned to a topic of greater interest: what it's like in the countries in Europe they'd love to visit. Switzerland and Austria rank high in their lists because of the beautiful mountain scenery and the alpine pastures with animals (Like Tibet!, I remarked). And France, too, especially Paris, which we agreed is probably the world capital of fashion. I described a recent story I'd read in the Times of India about US fashion designer Donna Karan's visit to India, and how much she'd liked the clothing she saw in India. I speculated that in a year or so, we may see India-inspired designs on the runways in Paris and New York. We all thought that traditional Tibetan chubas were bound to hit the fashion world soon.

I saw my much younger self in them as we talked and ran our fingers around the Europe section of the map. I felt regret that they were unlikely to travel the world as I've been lucky enough to do in my life. Even if they somehow obtained the money, their passport-less state would create complications (as refugees, they have only ID cards). With their bright young faces in front of me, it was easy to remember how exhilarated I'd been at age 22 when I first traveled Europe as a frugal backpacker. But I could not detect a flicker of self-pity or envy in my young friends. They seemed to epitomize the adage, "Bloom where you're planted."