Kunsang is a Tibetan college student with a purple t-shirt and a thick puff of black hair. He was born in Tibet, and at the age of about 13 he convinced the government to publish an anthology of his articles and poems (smart guy). In a streak of rebellion, he slipped in a few extra statements about Tibet right before the piece went to print. When the anthology came out, it created quite the stir in his local community, attracting the attention (and wrath) of Chinese officials. Kunsang was blacklisted, and his family worried that he would get in serious trouble. As a solution, his uncles proposed that he travel to India for refuge and a real education. Although his mother and sister objected, Kunsang decided to go. At that point, he was just 14 years old.

The escape took two tries. The first time Kunsang attempted to cross the border he was caught by Chinese guards and thrown into jail. He said he was beaten regularly for a few months until he was finally able to pay bond to get out. Shortly thereafter, he attempted to escape again—this time successfully. From Tibet to Nepal to India, Kunsang settled near Dharamsala and enrolled in a TCV school with other Tibetan students. Today he lives in Delhi, studying at Delhi University and boarding at the Tibetan Youth Hostel—where I met him just two days ago.

Kunsang’s story is incredible, but the really amazing thing is that it’s not that out of the ordinary, at least not for Tibetan students in India. In fact, the highlight of my trip came last night at the hostel when I got to sit and chat with a group of about 15 Tibetan college students about their experiences. Ashley and I were conducting a sort of roundtable discussion in the hostel library, and we hoped to talk a little about education, culture, identity and Tibetan independence.

Seated at a table beneath dim lights, I listened in awe as the students spoke so passionately about the Chinese occupation of Tibet.  Despite some of their ideological differences, it was clear that they all love and miss their country dearly. The ones who were born in Tibet talked about their desire to go home, and some of them haven’t seen their families in ten years. The ones who were born in India talked about their desire to see for themselves the homeland they’ve heard so much about. And they all agreed that, here in this Delhi hostel, the group of them had become like brothers and sisters. I could tell they would do anything to help each other.

It was surreal to hear about their experiences, especially when I think about my own life. When I was 14 years old, I lived at home with my mom and spent my days doodling in math class or looking forward to afternoon basketball practice. When they were 14, they were crossing mountain passes to become refugees in a foreign country. Today I’m going to college and they’re going to college, but while I’m worried about finding a post-graduation job, they’re worried about saving their country and their culture. I wish I could have stayed longer with them at that library table, because although we were all basically the same ages, I feel like I have so much to learn from their stories.