Walking into the village Tar was a very different experience than what I expected it to be. I never thought that in my wildest dreams I would be so isolated from society and technology. The village was a small 7 house community, but had more character than a city like LA. The people of Tar have very different and special life that they live. They all have their role to play in the community, such as my host mother. My mother away from home was a very small lady with a large personality. She seemed to be the town Matriarch and commanded everyone with a collected and booming voice. I would constantly wake up to the sound of her yelling at her son. At the time I would be slightly annoyed because I wanted to sleep just for five more minutes. Now that I look back on it after leaving; I am starting to miss her voice and it makes me a little sad, but still so happy I had the chance to dance and cook with her. She was a very remarkable woman who commanded a household with her husband away in the military. She showed me how powerful a single woman could be in a tiny place. The morning after the last night she walked us to the guru house where we were to depart on the next part of the journey. We were scrambling to get out the door, but before we could leave she gave us khata (a ceremonial white scarf in Tibetan Buddhism) as a farewell gift. She wished us good travels and tried to make small talk as we walked to the guru’s house. She stayed as long as she could and I could tell she got sad and had to leave before she had a chance to cry. I then realized that the homestay for her was just as impactful for her as it was for us. I almost had tears as she walked away, but I know that she and the village of Tar will be there when I return someday.