Editor's note: Previous stories in the Sacred Spaces series have explored such themes as charitable giving and the complicated intertwining of commerce and personal relationships. In India Today, some of the travelers pause to reflect, in their own words, on what their journey throughout one of the world's most fascinating places has meant to them, now that they are back home in the United States.

Josh Dearing

My trip to India has been an exercise in contrasts, posing ancient wonders of design and architecture next to abject poverty, industrialization against generational subsistence farming. I've been thinking through all the places we've been and all the grand sights that we've seen: the Taj Mahal, the Baha'i Temple, the Ghats of Varanasi. But what really sticks out in my mind are moments of people that framed my experience of India.

There was my friend Vijay placing a bindi on my forehead after the Shiva ritual in Khajuraho. There was the smiling young girl sitting along the Ganges River. There was the ethereal calling of the lama leading chants at the Gyuto monastery.

Of course, there are more. I imagine it will take me a very long time to understand how much this one trip has affected me.

Bob Ebendorf and Aleta Braun

Derek Maher (the Study Abroad director for the India trip) put together an adventure that was both scholarly and one filled with many surprises and unforeseen events. It was an honor to be a part of this maiden voyage of ECU in India. We remember with great fondness certain moments of beauty, such as viewing the Taj Mahal at both sunset and sunrise, our sunrise boat ride on the Ganges, and the Himalayan full moon from the rooftop of our hotel in Dharamsala.

Derek imbued the journey with his own special passion and inner delight for India. How many times we saw it shine from his eyes and face as he would spontaneously share with us his wisdom on the Indian and Tibetan cultures. One of our fondest memories was one afternoon when Derek was giving a lecture about one of the many sites we visited. We were all enjoying the shade of a tree and many Indians came to join us to listen to Derek speak and have their photograph taken with him.

J.T. Pitt

Not even the world's most gifted authors, photographers and film directors would ever be able to fully capture the rich culture of this country. There is no adequate way to describe how massive the Taj Mahal is, or how a difficult 10,000-foot hike in the Himalayan foothills can take your breath away in more ways than one.

If you delve even further into the realm of the indescribable, you will find the people in India. They are amazing. I have witnessed poverty far worse than anything any American deals with. I have seen children walking around on stubs of bone, instead of feet, begging for money. I have met families who have absolutely nothing, but offer a feast to a group of Americans just to show them what the real India is like. I "talked" and made friends with a mute child when no one would even try and guess what the meaning of his broken sign language was. I found that we really are all the same people all around the world. We all want for our family and friends to be happy and to live peacefully.

Danielle Bryan

India has taxed me both physically and mentally. I had no idea just how much this trip would affect me. India brought me to my knees in appreciation of my life back home. Never again will I take for granted anything in the United States. I think everyone should take a trip here and see what it does to (them). Never again will I back down from a challenge, because I defeated the greatest challenge on earth: India.

James Tyndall

I came to India with the broad idea of studying meditation and Buddhist philosophy. I expected to find many gurus and hear discourses from Buddhist monks. It turned out that India is not so different from other places in the world. The people here must live their daily lives in whatever way they know how.

I came searching for a better idea of absolute truth, but instead gained a better appreciation for relative or conventional truth. By keeping a conscious eye on our state of mind, we are more capable of bringing happiness into the conventional reality of our fellow human beings with whom we share our fate.

Coming to India is like being born a human on Earth. It has great potential for possibility. Many seeds were planted and many of them have already found the conditions right to grow. The ups and downs of this trip have added a new dimension to what I think of as dharma practice. I'm thankful for all those who made this trip possible, especially Derek Maher and Erica Plouffe Lazure for all their hard work and the positive attitude they maintained through difficult times, which we all learned from. And also my parents, who made untold sacrifices in order for me to have this great experience out in the greater world.

Bret Parrish

Today is the most auspicious holiday on the Buddhist calendar, Sacadawa, celebrating the Buddha's birth, realization and death. It is said that whatever merit you accumulate on this day, through acts of kindness, gets multiplied by one hundred million.

This morning I awoke at 4 a.m. to be initiated into monkhood for the day, to take vows of fasting and saint-like behavior. I groggily put on some clothes, forgot to pee, and joined my companions at the temple. We, the only Westerners, and a mob of Tibetans, made our way to a temple gathering. There a monk would soon ordain us. As I sat sleepy-eyed within the crowd of monks and laypeople, the darkness slowly fading into light, I had one particularly lovely thought: "Just look at us." And by "us" I meant "all of mankind." Just look at all of us, on this journey together, trying to figure everything out, concerned and passionate about living the best life we can. Just look at us, waking up this early. 4 a.m. was our way of saying to life: "We mean business; it's time to get back on track with what is important, leave the frivolities behind." I imagined other faiths' special days — sunrise Easter service in particular. All around the planet, these moments occur. Moments to reflect on the highest ideals of the human heart and mind. Moments to honor the great souls who have paved the way for the bulk of us. I thought of our little group, how truly nonsensical it was for us to attend, since we did not know the language in the slightest. But it was enough to sit with these Tibetan Buddhists, and allow our minds to provide the translation, whatever we wished — whatever we needed — the words to be, different for all of us, and yet the same.

Ashley Swansiger

On this journey I have witnessed more poverty and hardship in one month than I have seen in 20 years in America. Yet, at the same time, India is far richer in life and culture than we are. It's not every day in America that I dance in the streets to drums and trumpets, drink tea in shops with the locals, or strike up conversations with complete strangers. Nor is it every day at home that real happiness (arises) from what you give to others and what you leave them with, not material possessions.

Nathan Maxwell

Writer's note: Dreams sparked by mefloquine, the anti-malaria pill.

Our Study Abroad group has been enjoying an evening at an exclusive establishment, dining, splashing in the pool, when I decide to wander outside for a change of scenery. I see that next door, behind an iron fence, is some sort of animal, a pet, which I take at first glance to be a small brown dog, somewhat oddly shaped. As I approach, the animal steps closer to the fence, out of the shadows, and I realize that it is a tiny buffalo, with thick brown curls and short black horns. Suddenly there is a rather large young man standing beside me, who I recognize as a member of our group although I have never seen him before. He squats and slides a plate under the fence. On the plate is a thick steak, which the buffalo quickly eats. The light grows quickly brighter and I am once again alone standing at the fence. The owner of the tiny buffalo has emerged from his home, and is inviting me inside for tea. I know that he thinks I fed the steak to his pet, and is hiding his rage behind a mask of friendliness. I have also just noticed that the white walls of his home are covered by shadows of human forms with no figures to cast them. I realize that these shadows are the only remaining traces of the victims of this monstrous tiny buffalo owner, and if I step through his gate, I will become the newest shadow, so I open my eyes.

Forrest Hill

The first few days of the trip I felt guilty for thinking so much about home. I somehow already missed the comforts of America. I guess I felt out of place. I am no stranger to hot temperatures and consider myself tolerant in situations others might easily find irritating or uncomfortable. Consciously, I was taking in everything about India and was handling it well. Subconsciously, though, I think there was discomfort because lingering thoughts of home kept arising from time to time. I wanted them to flee so that I could truly experience India, and more importantly, genuinely enjoy the trip.

After three days in India, I became adjusted. I adjusted to the living quarters, the touts, the noise, the smells, the time zone and the overcrowdedness. But not the heat. Week two marked the point where I felt very much at home in India. It felt natural, like I was somehow a part of this Eastern culture over 7,000 miles away from home.

Lynda Bridges

In the past month I have learned that I, along with many others, am blessed by the lucky occurrence of being born in America. Watching families sleeping all along the streets, women pulling water from a well, and being ever vigilant about not ingesting the local water for fear of dysentery has made me quite thankful for the little things we take for granted. Also from speaking to Tibetan doctors and medical students I have realized that the modern way of doing things is not always the best way. We have a lot of things we can teach one another in order to make everyone's lives better.