It is still dark and my mother calls me to get up and prepare breakfast. She and my sisters have already nearly finished milking the yaks.

I open my eyes and squint at the solar-powered light above me. I look around me at the walls of my family's black yak fur lined tent. The ceiling has faded from its original dark black to yellow. The smoke of the fire and the heat of the sun have worn its colour away over the years.

Another typical day for me during my summer holidays has begun. My family is nomadic Tibetan from Qinghai Province and I am currently studying English at Qinghai Normal University. I have English language courses in literature, sociology, translation, writing, and psychology, in addition to Chinese and Tibetan language classes.

My family spends the cold season in our winter home, and the warm season moving with the herds and living in our yak-skin tent.

Needless to say, my home life is very different to that of my school one.

Other members of my family have already left to begin their day's work, when I wake up. Only the four youngest children and I are left in the tent, each of us lying on the cool earth.

Smoke from the stove pervades the room, stinging my eyes. It is so quiet that I can hear my own heart beat. An earthy smell permeates the room.

Through the walls of the tent I can see large dark silhouettes moving past, and I know that the yaks are returning from the pastures, eagerly anticipating a morning handout of salt and cream.

I move to the centre of the tent and begin to revive the fire. The smoke that pours from the sides of our clay stove burns my eyes, and without sadness tears trickle down my apple-red cheeks.

While I busily cook vegetables and rice for the 13 people in my family, the children cry, waiting to be dressed and fed. I finish preparing the family breakfast and then fry bread for our lunch in the mountains.

Two hours later, the sun is up and I have finished cooking, dressing the children, and cleaning the tent.

After breakfast, we begin the hour-long walk to the mountains, where we will dig for medicinal herbs. From just after sunrise until just before sunset, my family and I search through the summer green grass for these special plants.

When it is too dark to see the plants, we begin the trek home. I begin my homework and help my sisters with their lessons.

While in school or at home, I often think about how to share the skills that I learn to benefit people in my community. As a student from a nomadic area, I represent not only myself, but all nomad children who yearn for an education.

Last autumn, I joined a development class for women where we learned how to create projects that will improve the living conditions of the people in our hometowns. We learned how to design and manage our own projects and write proposals.

In January, I wrote a proposal for a yak loan project and submitted it to the German Embassy.

Some elderly people in my community have no families to care for them, and are too poor to buy the food and clothing that they need to survive.

My proposed project offers to provide this community with a small herd of yaks that they will loan to local nomads. This will generate income for this elderly population so that they may live their final years in more comfort.

Sonamjik is a student of English currently studying at Qinghai Teachers' University. Her teacher, Michelle Kleisath, first edited her article.

(China Daily 06/09/2005 page13)