"Thank You, Please"

At 18 years old we said yes to a challenge from a man who we had idolised throughout our time at Auckland Grammar. At 21 and 22, we sit here only hours short of completing the task that was set for us. We sit here only hours short of saying goodbye to a country that has meant so much to us. We sit here only hours short of home. But this blog isn't about us, nor is it for us, so before we get home it has one more challenge, and that is to articulate to you why we came to this magnificent country, and what we hope your 22 young men take away from this wonderful month.

But first, why did we come here?

Before we get started, let us take you back to October 2016. A group of boys made a decision to attend a meeting, and returned home to their respective families with an information pack detailing a month in India. In this pack contained the goals of the programme. They read:

-        Expose students to the experience of living in a different culture

-        Provide opportunities for the students to interact with those at the margins of society

-        Visit the historical sites in India of international fame

-        Explore the cultural history of a contrasting people

-        Develop an understanding of one's role in a global world

But in a tangible sense, we asked the boys to leave behind their mobile phones, for today, on average we spend over five hours a day using them. We wanted the boys to look up, look around, talk, and explore. We asked the boys and their families to attend ten monthly meetings, for if you're travelling to a foreign place, it seems important to first gain a grasp of what makes that place tick. In these meetings, we asked the boys to share a little about themselves, for if you're travelling to a foreign place, it also seems important to gain a grasp of what makes each of us tick.

We came to India in the hope of learning a little about ourselves. Aged 15-18, and 21, 22, 34 and 36, each of us at our own positions in the game of life, we hoped that this trip would colour our stories thus far, and in the years to come. We hoped to develop some skills in ourselves in a way that only travelling can. We hoped to make new friends, both within the group and outside. Leaving family for a month during the most special time of the year is tough, and we hoped that this group would form a family of sorts, as much as any of you back home can ever be temporarily replaced. We came to India to challenge ourselves. Just as the end of December forms a special family time, it is a time for mates, and generally alcohol. We wanted something different. In this sense, we wanted to be confronted, we wanted to be uncomfortable, and we wanted to be vulnerable, for it is in these moments where we grow. With all this said, we didn't want to become more wise, and reach positions of gurudom. We simply wanted to develop perspectives, no more right or wrong than the next geezer. And finally, for some, we just wanted a trip away, an experience, a month with mates full of some sub-par chat and laughs, and needless to say, there was plenty of those to go around.

What did we learn?

Well, we entered this vast land of chaos and disorder and were asked to try to comprehend it. But how do you begin to comprehend a place so heartbreakingly desperate and despairing, so sadly stuck in time, where its people, carried unbelievably by hope and faith, somehow play the game of life with a smile and a tilt of the head. It's a difficult challenge, to try to make sense of India. But one the boys have met with great courage and enthusiasm. It has not been easy to process the complexity of India and while we have come to realise that the world will sometimes present us with more questions than answers, we came not with the aim of ever really understanding it but with the hope that by asking questions of the place and of ourselves, we would realise that not having all the answers is ok. In fact, it is the mystery and disorder of the world that makes it exciting. So, we threw ourselves into this place, braving the storm of life, and became thankful that we had not stayed securely on the shore.

By exploring this new land, this country so abundantly full of culture and history, we enlarged our worlds. We heard the stories of India's people – its heart – and came to realise that each lived a life as vivid and complex as our own. Each one bearing ambitions, friendships, passions and worries as significant as we bear. While this made us feel small – almost insignificant – we marched on in the knowledge that the enormity of the world, in which we are merely a speck, does not render our lives meaningless. Rather, it motivates us to fill them with meaning; to develop meaningful connections, to learn about people and cultures, to achieve extraordinary things for ourselves, our families, and our communities.

In our interactions with India's people and with each other, we found connection. Connection that cannot be measured by Facebook likes or Snapchat streaks. And in finding connection we discovered beauty in a world which is certainly not easy on the eye. We came to understand that when the world is dark and unforgiving, people are the light. And so, we grew in gratitude not just for the people we met in our travels but – more importantly – for our supporting cast, the friends and family that will always shine brightest in our lives. We became grateful for home, Aotearoa, a place not just where we sleep but a place where we stand. The place we grew up, where kids in jandals are currently riding their bikes to the beach or to the local dairy, where hills roll into lakes and sand and sea. A place to protect. A place where we are aching to be right now.

In watching India, we also grew in our understanding of ourselves. We noted the importance and beauty of community, belonging, and devotion and questioned the presence of these in our own lives. We shared of our pasts, our hopes for the future, the significant moments and people in our lives and learned to attribute our characters to the combination of these components. In our sharing, we discovered the beauty of taking the time to slow down, to stop our ascent of the mountain ranges we are all climbing, and to look back and appreciate the path we have walked. We also discovered that by living in the moment, forgetting the trodden path behind us and the future heights temporarily, we may appreciate life's simple beauties – those on the journey itself – and source our own vitality from their presence.

And finally, what we want you to know…

And now, as we set our sights on home, we finish by addressing the boys specifically. Despite this trip being about you, the 22 young men who embarked on this trip, discovering your own thoughts, opinions and world views, there are some things you must know.

You are good men

"What does being a good man mean to you?" was a question thrown at the boys only two days ago in debrief. I (Reuben) said to my group that I don't really like this question because I don't like the overtly masculine answers it evokes. Our men in society are today still asked to shoulder a burdening weight of responsibility. In turn, they are neglected when it comes to expressing emotion, they are frowned upon for showing weakness, and they are discounted for shedding a tear. On this trip, the boys have expressed emotions, they have shown weakness and they have shed many a tear. For that, we are immensely proud of you.

Celia Lashlie, in her book 'He'll Be Ok', talked about the effects of a society geared towards unhealthy masculinity, and although impossible to pinpoint, this no doubt contributes negatively to issues of domestic violence and mental health. I once read in an article, scathing about the culture and attitudes of men today, which finished by saying that "nothing will change until we raise the men that we want in society." Well, in these 22 young men, 22 bloody outstanding young men, I have seen honesty, authenticity and a rawness that few men ever express, let alone those of an adolescent age. They have spoken of their sources of pride, their woes, their dreams and their loves. They've done this both in debrief, and exclusive of any aid. Not only this, they've conveyed these thoughts on this blog. They've opened themselves up to anyone and everyone who has an interest. If that author was wishing for a culture shift, she's more than got it in these young men. You are all good, good men.

You are incredibly lucky

We want to tell you all again about a place we visited in Kolkata called Brooklyn. This slum community was once a thriving port settlement, with neighbouring ten story apartment buildings inhabited by the workers. However, as part of a yearly festival, the Indian people would build a model of their respective god, made out of mud. This model would then be thrown into the river as part of the close of the ceremony. As the years went by, the level of the river bed slowly rose. Repeated millions of times, this eventually had a fatal effect on the port, as ships could no longer sufficiently enter the river. The work dried up, the labourers abandoned Brooklyn, and the buildings were left to waste away. Today, these same buildings are occupied by anywhere between 40,000 and 100,000 inhabitants, no one can give us a definitive number. These inhabitants live without electricity and fresh water, their only source of the latter being a broken water main providing a resource for bathing, drinking and washing clothes. Entering Brooklyn, we were greeted by masses of children, many of which will never see the inside of a classroom, let alone a reliable source of income. This would be the closest thing to absolute, total poverty we would witness.

And yet, we got to go home.

Boys, you are lucky to be here, incalculably lucky to be born, and incredibly lucky to be brought up in a loving family that encouraged and/or forced you into schooling, and provided you with the countless other opportunities that make you the young men you are today. You are blessed to call New Zealand home. Understanding that you can't truly take credit for your successes, nor truly blame others for your failures, will humble you.

You should embrace uncertainty and vulnerability

Our lives today are safer and more comfortable than they have ever been. And in our material luxury we have somehow constructed existences in which we believe we are not vulnerable. However, life is uncertain and we are vulnerable to this reality. We have experienced this at every twist and turn of our Indian adventure: at every meal, on every mode of transport, and in every financial transaction. Our own lives, too, are uncertain. Indeed, we are vulnerable to heartbreak, loss, betrayal, insecurity, etc. all of which are likely unforeseen. To escape these, we attempt to eliminate uncertainty, to plan and arrange things such that we can see the entire path that stretches before us and pluck away any obstacles in our way. We make the uncertain certain.

And yet we have found in our travels that the real meat of life, the real source of inspiration and growth comes from adversity and the challenge of the unfamiliar. From stepping away from what's comfortable and certain and stepping out into the unknown, we have engaged, explored, endeavoured, and consequently enlarged our worlds. In being vulnerable, and in having the courage to share our stories with our whole hearts, we have developed not only an appreciation for ourselves but for each other.

Boys, embrace uncertainty. Indulge vulnerability. You will grow from your trials and in having the courage to share your discomfort and ask for help, you will find connection.

You should honour people

Righto, this is where we really get soppy, if you thought we weren't already… There will be people who walk into your lives and change them forever. Although he wouldn't want us to say it, for he would like to be thought of as "just another water carrier", one such person in our lives is Ben Skeen.

Ben cares about legacy. He asks the questions, "How do you want to be remembered?", "What would you like people to say about you?", "Why will your life matter?" The India Immersion Programme is (aside from his daughter, Grace) his greatest legacy. If you asked him any of the above I am sure he would point you to any of the young men who have been fortunate to experience it. Indeed, his legacy is not represented by any statues or plaques, nor does his name feature on any of the stadium's grandstands (the stadium being the stadium of life he loves to discuss). No, his legacy lies within those members of this club, the club he created, a club of young men – now numbering over 100 – who had the privilege to travel to India and explore.

In India, and in understanding that we are incredibly lucky, we have been forced to examine gratitude. What does it mean to be grateful? What does genuine gratitude look like? What does it mean to 'honour' someone? Ben, ever the visionary, had always hoped the Programme, his brainchild, his baby, would outlive him. So, for us, the running of this Programme was not only about admitting 22 more outstanding young men to this club but also about honouring Ben's legacy, enabling it to continue beyond him. We hoped to display our gratitude, to do more than say "thank you", for two words would never encapsulate the significance of this experience in our lives. We hope we have done his legacy proud.

Boys, there will be people in your lives who add immense value. We all see further by standing on the shoulders of giants. Honour the giants in your lives. Say thank you. Let their legacies colour your future experiences. Let their messages inform the decisions you make and the paths you choose.

Yesterday we sat in a room and shared one final time where we were at and what the past month has meant to us. We cried. Tears of gratitude. Thank you, Ben. Thank you, boys. Thank you, India, you will forever be under our skin. Goodbyes are always the hardest but we are now going home to our loving families and what a feeling that is.

So, for the final time, we sign off, humbled for the month afforded to us. As a great man once said, the honour, the absolute privilege, has most definitely been ours.

Tom and Reuben​