Puget Sound's Pacific Rim Study Abroad program marks its 50th anniversary this academic year. To help celebrate, we asked for your memories of the program and how it shaped you. Here's what you told us.
Straight from the Dalai Lama
One of my three greatest, most life-defining moments happened while in Dharamshala, India, the site of the Tibetan Parliament in Exile. We were there to attend the Dalai Lama’s teachings, and we lived with Tibetan host families during that week. The day before the public teachings started, His Holiness delivered a private teaching to a smaller audience. My host parents were able to attend and bring me along. They dressed me in traditional Tibetan clothes and took me to his temple; somehow we had access to sit in the front row, directly to his right, while he spoke. Earlier that morning, the U.S. had started bombing Baghdad, initiating the second U.S. war with Iraq. The Dalai Lama explained to us that he had planned to present one teaching, but given the events of that morning, he set his planned talk aside and proceeded to riff for hours on the inherent compassion of all humans in our world. I will always be grateful to Elisabeth Benard, Nima Dorjee, and the PacRim program for allowing me the experience to sit at the feet of one of Earth’s wisest people on a dark day and hear a message of light, hope, and compassion. Matthew McMurphy ’03 Novato, Calif.
Allison Nasson ’18 at China’s Heavenly Empress Palace/Meizhou Ancestral Temple during PacRim in 2017. Photo by Miriam Cohen ’19.
Flexibility is Everything
“Is everybody ready? OK, run!” We broke into an awkward sprint down the platform, backpacks bouncing, as we attempted to jump onto the moving train. We had been at the station in Mysore, India, all day. After we arrived at the wrong platform and missed our overnight train, our guide spent several hours trying to get us new tickets. As we waited, we perched on top of our mountain of luggage, playing card games and chatting. The energy was strangely cheerful. Six months ago, we would have been grumbling, anxious, and about to mutiny, but months of travel had transformed us. We were perfectly sanguine when informed that since all available seats were sold out, we would be jumping onto the next train and would stand in the aisle all night. We ran as one ungainly mass, ready, in the immortal words of the philosopher Chuang Tzu, to leap into the boundless and make it our home. Then, at the last moment, a voice at the back yelled at us to abort the mission—our guide had managed to charter a bus for the next morning. The most eager in our pack had to actually jump off the train and back onto the platform. I am grateful to PacRim for many things, but most of all for the fact that I am now ready and willing to jump on a moving train when the situation requires—this flexibility has made all the difference in my adult life!
Rachael Gary Shelden '12, MAT'13
Tacoma
A Lifelong Friend
When we were in Thailand in December 1977, we took a geography course at Chiang Mai University. A geography student at the university whom I stayed in touch with was a young man nicknamed Tek. He was very studious but fun to know. Years later I found him on Facebook and discovered that he had obtained his Ph.D. and had become a professor of environmental studies and geography at Maridol University in Bangkok. He led an interdisciplinary research project on some caves in northern Thailand; later, he was named dean of the faculty. He recently retired, and in fall 2023, my husband and I travelled to Thailand and got together with Tek, who showed us all around Bangkok, his hometown. Our hotel was in Chinatown and Tek is Thai-Chinese, so we had an excellent guide to some of the lesser-known but beautiful places in Bangkok. He also had relatives and connections in northeastern Thailand and took us there as well. We saw temples and museums, and visited a friend of his running an organic farming education center, a bird sanctuary helping endangered cranes, an elephant village and graveyard, and small-town grocery stores and markets. After 46 years, it was a joy to reconnect with Tek and deepen our friendship and understanding of Thailand.
Rev. June Fothergill ’78
Springfield, Ore.
In My Brother’s Memory
It started as a pilgrimage of grief, retracing his steps, circumambulating mountain tops and monasteries. My brother Thomas Harley Leland ’81, aka “Bones,” returned from PacRim 1977–78 with a new diagnosis of osteosarcoma—bone cancer. His posthumous degree from Puget Sound and memorial service on campus launched my pilgrimage. I joined the following trip, 1980–81. I carried Tom’s ashes and scattered them above our winter camp in the Himalayas. Somewhere through the course of the year, the trip became less about grief and more about personal transformation: My life plan had been to be a concert flutist, but by the end of the trip my goal was to develop skills that would bring me back to Asia with something to offer, some way to help. Maybe it was my volunteer work at the leprosy village in Thailand or Mother Theresa’s orphanage in Calcutta. Maybe it was nine months of immersion in Buddhist philosophy that helped me release my stranglehold on self. Maybe it was the leadership of Dr. A [Bob Albertson ’44] who gave us the freedom to scatter and gather, experience a foreign world, and discover ourselves along the way. I finally made it back to Asia after a lengthy career as a hospice nurse. I met up with the 2017–18 trip in Mumbai and shared some chai with recipients of the Thomas Harley Leland Memorial Scholarship. Such an honor to witness and experience all the good that can emerge from tragedy.
Amity W. Leland ’84
Richmond, Va.
Unglamorous, but Glorious
It can be so easy to glamorize a year of travel, and the reality is that we got to do and see a lot of amazing things (hello meeting the Dalai Lama and paragliding in Sikkim!), but it also broke me down in ways I would have never imagined. PacRim was clogged toilets and mice-ridden hotel rooms. It was cold bucket showers and a $7 box of imported Cheerios when you were sick with chills and all you wanted was a warm bath and some homemade food. It was missing out on birthdays, holidays, and mundane study sessions with friends and family back home. It was a lot of waiting in long lines, missed trains, and rescheduled flights. It was culture shock again and again and again. PacRim breaks you down mentally and physically, until all you can do is regroup and rebuild. It was those hard days that helped me land my dream job in international education. It was the constant change of circumstances and adapting that pushed me to travel alone, take students abroad, and bring my 1-year-old on multiple flights around the globe. It is expecting the unexpected and leaping into the boundless that has made me a more flexible and better friend, wife, daughter, mother. PacRim was challenging in so many ways, but I would do it all over again in a heartbeat if given the chance.
Sarah Homer Berryman ’12
Mukilteo, Wash.
In Love with Indonesia
In 2015, as our cohort rode the train south from Bangkok, it struck me how little I knew about our next class site, Indonesia. I knew that it was huge, and majority-Muslim, and that was pretty much it. I couldn’t tell you anything about the language, food, or culture. Two months later, our cohort said goodbye to the archipelago and flew to our final destination. It was mind-boggling to think that just a couple of months earlier, this country that now felt like a second home had been a total mystery. (This 180-degree pivot was a theme on PacRim.) Turns out I adored Indonesia—the language was simple, the food cheap and delicious (albeit spicy), and the people endlessly friendly. A year after graduating, I returned to our class’s city, Yogyakarta, to teach English at a university with the organization Volunteers in Asia. Friends who I’d made in 2015 popped back into my life and helped me to build a foundation for two wonderful years. I met with the 2017–18 cohort, joining them to hop up the Malay Peninsula, and shared my gratitude to PacRim for introducing me to a home that I would never have known otherwise.
Erik Hammarlund ’16
Seattle
Riding elephants in Northern Thailand in 1999. Photo by Monica Clark Petersen ’01.
Something in Common
In Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, the wash-and-fold laundromat near the hostel was run by people who were deaf. One man who worked there wanted to ask me about my clothes. He pointed to the sports bra in my laundry stack and to my facial hair and smiled, silently asking, or maybe simply observing. Generally, I’d kept the fact that I was trans hidden, and nobody questioned my gender. It strikes me that the person who did question it didn’t speak. Maybe it was because my deep voice, which he couldn’t hear, led others to consider me a cisgender man. But maybe it was more than that: He knew what it was like to live outside what’s normalized in society, and he wasn’t afraid to be seen for who he was. So when he saw who I was, he was willing to acknowledge it. Not knowing sign language, my answer was a nod: “Yes, this is me.” He smiled. I’d been nervous to embark on PacRim shortly after beginning my transition. I worried that people would see me and judge me for my identity. My conversation at the laundromat reminded me that people could just as well see me and validate me.
Indigo Dacosta ’18
Tacoma
Tagging Along with Dad
I was 23 years old when I went on the 1973–74 PacRim trip with my dad, Bob Albertson ’44. Dad was well organized—he organized the trip so that in every country we went to, it was spring. Dad knew the strengths and weaknesses of all the students, but he expected each and every one of them to be a hero at least one time on the trip; and each and every one made at least one contribution that made the trip extra special. Dad didn’t teach to the students he wanted—he taught to the students he had and where they were at the moment. Dad always kept calm and maintained his sense of humor. I remember when the DC-3 in which we were touring the Australian Outback lost one of its two engines and we had to land with one engine in a small airport near Alpha, Australia. As we got off the plane, Dad remarked, “Thank God this town is called Alpha and not Omega.” The trip was for all of us the Alpha of our commitment to a special interest in the Asia Pacific region, and even to lifelong careers in Asia. Dad didn’t want us to be soldiers or businesspeople in Asia. He wanted us to be both lifelong students and teachers of the Pacific Rim and Asia region.
Rich Albertson
Chiang Rai, Thailand
A Life-Changing Experience
PacRim shook me out of unseen biases through the year-long collision of multiple cultural perspectives, deep interpersonal relationships, experiential academic pursuits, and constant immersion into new experiences. I learned to appreciate the freedoms that the United States offers, especially to women, and to also question my “neutral” perspectives. I learned to respect spiritual and religious perspectives academically, as an expression of culture, and as a deep personal experience. I learned that politics are defined by national borders, and yet ideological beliefs transcend nations and impact humanity both positively and negatively. I learned that access to quality media is not a global right, and that all humans are served by questioning the source of their information. I celebrate that I have seen communities keeping traditions alive in exile, families finding joy in simple means, and students striving to better themselves through education. PacRim taught me how to travel in comfortable or uncomfortable situations, to pivot in moments of requisite change, and to listen and learn in the humble realization that I have a limited perspective and an opportunity to grow. Due to PacRim, I strive to make humility my greatest strength.
Monica Clark Petersen ’01
Denver
Learning to Love It
The Phuong Mai Hotel in Hanoi, Vietnam was gloriously shabby in its red carpet and concrete. My class settled in there after our first month in Seoul (Korea is fun!) and second month in Kyoto (Japan is beautiful!), and I hit a wall. Every time I left the hotel, I faced an onslaught of attention and a cacophony of unrelenting traffic I had no idea how to cross. I languished. After the four-week course in Hanoi, we took a long, slow bus ride down Highway One, stopping in Nghe An, Hue, and Nha Trang before arriving in Saigon. From my window seat, I watched the chickens dash out of the way as our wheels ground the husk off the rice harvest laid out across the road. At every rest stop, a flock of boys would coax us into a hacky sack game. Families beckoned us into their homes for tea. By the time we reached Saigon, I was fully in love. I would return to Vietnam to live and work another year and then two. PacRim taught me to appreciate discomfort, seek ever deeper understanding, and recognize these sweet joys. Years later, a handful of 1996–97 alums met up in Angkor Wat with the current 2005–06 students; We followed Nima, Elisabeth, and Dr. Rao around the murals, discussing the Mahabharata—you bet I paid better attention this time—and later took over the hotel kitchen to prepare a feast and dance party. It was the same feeling I remembered from my own trip, with its singalongs, goofy birthday celebrations, a short-story writing frenzy along a Himalayan trail, and a fierce struggle over lazy-Susan etiquette. The intense togetherness is itself a lesson; it strengthens our bonds, and these bonds stretch out before and after our own time. I will always feel connected to PacRim’s legacy.
Hilary Harpe Lilja ’97
Huntsville, Ala.
Perfect Alignment
There is something magically serendipitous about the particular combination of people, places, lessons, and little moments that arise on PacRim—mundane and magnificent alike. My great uncle, Bob Albertson ’44, who started the program with my great aunt, Aileen, might have used the word “syzygy” to describe this alignment. Once the nexus of one of Uncle Bob’s sermons, syzygy is an astronomical term describing, according to Merriam-Webster, the “nearly straight-line configuration of three celestial bodies (such as the sun, moon, and earth during a solar or lunar eclipse).” Thanks to immense behind-the-scenes planning and financing, only on PacRim can “PacRim” happen. Only with my 24 fellow Pacrimmers, Elisabeth, Nima, Aleisha, and Lisa could I have prepared for Losar [the Tibetan new year] with a monastery full of monks, listened with one ear bud to a simultaneous translation of a speech given by the 14th Dalai Lama, written silly love poems for Valentine’s Day, watched the sunrise in the Gobi, carefully bicycled through a troop of monkeys, gotten lost and found while riding the bus in Hanoi, pulled an ill-advised all-nighter between travel days, shared colds after drinking fermented mare’s milk out of a communal cup, or forgotten the meaning of the days of the week (when the world is your classroom, any day can be a chance to learn). PacRim is not one thing, but a syzygy of all of the people and experiences that align into something greater.
Emma Raisl Wall ’13
Oslo, Norway
Hands Up!
During the orientation for our PacRim trip, we went to a ropes course out in Monroe, Wash., as part of our team-building experiences. At the very end of the course, there was a high wall. The rule was that when anyone was climbing over the wall, the others had to put our hands up in the air—a symbolic representation that we were there to catch the person if they slipped or fell. The other rule was that if anyone fell, we all started over. “Hands up!” we’d say in unison before anyone climbed over. But there was more involved than getting the 35 or so of us up and over. We had to communicate and consider each other’s strengths and weaknesses. We had to figure out the timing. It wasn’t easy, but no one fell.
At the time of our trip, the Gulf War broke out and the university was worried about our safety. I remember sitting on the floor of someone’s room in Vietnam, confused and worried, as our director, David Satterwhite, explained our options. India was now out, and if we didn’t change our itinerary, we would be heading back home. We pivoted and a new course was created on Islam in Malaysia, and we were able to push through.
Hands up! In Japan, my whole life changed. My home-stay family welcomed me with such warmth and love that to this day, we have kept in regular contact. I ended up living in Japan for 14 years. My eldest son was born there and has recently returned to attend university in Kyoto—just a few train stops from my Japanese family’s home and from David, who also lives back in Japan. In Vietnam, we visited the village where the My Lai massacre had occurred and were served tea by one of the granddaughters of one of the few survivors. Embarrassed, I asked her, “How can you not hate us, hate all Americans?” and her answer, which has made its way to the front of my mind more often than ever these past few years, was pure and true: “That was not you. That was not me. If we want peace, we must move forward.”
What a joy it was for me to introduce my half-Japanese son to Professor Chris Ives, who first sparked my interest in Japan during that fateful Passages trip back in 1987 when he sat around the campfire telling us Japanese ghost stories. How nice to keep in touch with Professor Suzanne Barnett, who taught me to become a better writer and encouraged me to become a teacher. PacRim was the defining experience that brought my studies to life, shaped my future, and gave me a family of choice.
Rachelle Blair ’91, P’25
Seattle
Always an Inspiration
My brother, Bob Albertson ’44, and sister-in-law, Aileen, were founders of the PacRim program. My husband (Dick McKnight ’40) and I were fortunate to travel with PacRim students three times in the 1970s and ’80s. Each time I found the students to be an inspiration—in how they immediately welcomed us; for their independence, collaborative spirit, and curiosity; through the loyalty and bond they felt towards each other; and most especially the better understanding that was gained from living and learning alongside fellow students and citizens of other countries. I returned each time with a greater appreciation for other places, cultures, and food, and with new eyes to see my own country. My memories include trekking in Kathmandu, waking to a beautiful sunrise and delicious breakfast prepared by the local women, and sitting cross-legged meditating with monks in India, then sharing strong tea together. I remember gathering under a big tree where Bob would ask the students very difficult questions, always ending each session by singing the Alma Mater. I recall two students who graduated while on PacRim, one of whom played “Pomp and Circumstance” on the flute she had brought along. A particularly special moment took place at the University in Thailand, where Dick and I were present for a time of mutual sharing with students from the village. As one of the Thai students began singing “The Impossible Dream” from Man of La Mancha, Rufus Woods ’80 spontaneously joined in, and they finished the song in harmony together.
Audrey Albertson McKnight ’42, age 103
Tacoma As told to Lynn Raisl ’77 and Sue Ingman ’70
PacRim students in March 2015 stumbled onto an Ngrupuk parade in Ubud, Bali, Indonesia. The parades feature huge ogoh-ogoh statues, ”made with papier-mâché and lots of paint,“ says Faculty Director and Professor of Anthropology Gareth Barkin.
Through a Toddler’s Eyes
I don’t remember much about PacRim, but I do remember my 3rd birthday there. We went to the butterfly garden in Penang, Malaysia, where I got a butterfly to land on my finger. And I remember getting shredded by mosquitoes while we were there. I also remember watching a video of myself with all the PacRim students singing Happy Birthday while I crammed chocolate cake into my mouth. I was told that I also jumped into a swimming pool with my diaper on, and that my diaper exploded in the water. I wish I remembered more. I guess I’ll have to do the program again. Hugo Barkin, now age 11
Son of Gareth Barkin, PacRim director in 2014–15
Do You Speak Chess?
I was a 2008–09 Pacrimmer, and one of my favorite images from the trip is this photo I took when we were students at Hwa Nan College in Fuzhou, China. Pictured is Allison Geary ’10 playing Chinese chess with some locals. Allison was skilled at striking up conversations with people wherever we went (still is, in fact). When there was a language barrier, she would often whip out her travel chess set and connect with people through a game or two.
Epiphany Couch ’10
Portland, Ore.
Lifelong Bonds
“Me? I am not sure.” That was my response when my friend, Professor Stuart Smithers, called and urged me to apply for the directorship of the Pacific Rim/Asia Study Travel Program. Could I handle the responsibility of traveling and teaching 24 students in Asia for nine months? After I discussed the job with my husband, Nima Dorjee, he encouraged me to give it a try. Knowing that he would support me and that we are a good team, I applied and was selected. The first group of Pacrimmers (1996–97) taught me that there is tremendous satisfaction in being together for nine months with me as a professor and a friend. After the first program, I was eager to lead another and yet another, until I had led six and a half programs. Each group of students was different; the places where we visited varied; the people we met serendipitously changed; and for each of us, we discovered other aspects of ourselves and how to live together for nine months. The latter is a great social skill to have!
Nima and I enjoyed nurturing confidence in the students. Some returned to Asia to work after graduation. Many have stayed in touch. We have celebrated new jobs, weddings, births. We are all delighted when we can meet each other someplace in the world—from Paris to Cambodia. It doesn’t matter how much time elapses between a visit; something bonds us for life. PacRim made us more aware that we are global citizens and that each of us can make an impact. We are thankful for the extraordinary program that Professor Bob Albertson ’44 and his wife, Aileen, created. PacRim became my best job ever.
