A Day in the Life of a VSO Volunteer

Wake up
I am in Nepal
Landscapes of thikkas, mangoes, mantras, saturated colors, the unexpected, contemplated government overthrows.

If you have not eaten rice today you have not eaten.

I came here to do.
To act, to change, to learn, to ask, to help transform, to be transformed.

I am sitting in silence, however.
Watching surreptitious looks over newspapers. Unanswered questions. Wondering.

We are trying so hard to understand one another.
But my western assumptions are colliding with your eastern patience.
No matter. Learning happens through discomfort.

And anyways, I have found there is a lot that happens in the silent spaces.
Silence happens right before creation.
But I will not lie. It is unsettling to me against the din of my former life.

As unsettling as clumps of chickens hanging from bicycle handles and the
woman in the village who looks at me pleadingly.
Her husband has her under her thumb, she says. Her children don't have food to eat.
What can I do to help?

Lissim grabs my arm and smiles at me afterwards.
She also doesn't know what to do or say.
With her touch I am momentarily calmed.

I don't know where we go from here.
But I know we begin with listening, honoring suffering.
Then gathering forces.
Lissim's hand on my arm tells me she's invited me onto her team.

My thoughts about stillness, change, silence and action are interrupted.

Laundry needs to be washed.
Food needs to be bought and carefully prepared.
My dusty floors needs to be swept.
I could have visitors at any time.

Thich Nhat Hahn says that these tasks are also our spiritual work.
To be done well, consciously. As meditation.

I have been considering this.
I have plenty of time and opportunity to consider this.
Indeed, the water I wash my clothes with relaxes my mind easily and quickly.
For this I am grateful.

But I can't help but think that sometimes the laundry, floors, and washing of lentils can also be a diversion. I should be careful of diversions.

Tonight I will sleep early so I can be awake for the noises of the morning.
I have given up my natural rhythm of going to be late and sleeping in late not without a fight.
But have learned - in the spirit of following the path of least resistance - to welcome the sounds of people starting their day.

Chanting, chopping, washing, playing, spitting, cleansing, cleansing, ringing, praying, working. Working.
These noises come early, quickly, and loudly here.

The rest is welcome,
the moon in the night sky is calling me to her.
I secretly hope for thunder and rain and puddles on the floor tonight as I fall asleep.

I need all the rest I can get anyways.
I have to be prepared for whatever will come tomorrow...

Sitting silent, watching, learning, planning my next move.
Thinking about how to balance flexibility with consistency of action and purpose.
It takes all the energy and focus I have.
And this must be what I came for.

Brian's blog posts about Nepal

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http://brianrhyolite.blogspot.com

Photo above by Brian. The trucks here are all painted fabulously. Typical truck art: Speed King. Off Road Warrior. Speed Kills. And the most hilarious? Don't love me, love hurts. Written in big, beautiful lettering on the back of the truck.

20 minutes

Day 6 of strike.

9:15 pm on Friday, May 07. Email received from the US Embassy in Nepal. Email reads:

Large demonstrations and traffic disruptions continue to occur around Kathmandu and throughout the country. These strikes have been successful in completely shutting down vehicular movement and businesses. As of May 7, 2010, the political situation remains deadlocked and we are unable to predict when the strike will conclude.

Supplies are running short and travel has been disrupted throughout the country. Businesses and public transport have been severely affected.

U.S. citizens are encouraged to stock adequate supplies of water, food, fuel, money and medication.

9:35 pm on Friday, May 07. SMS received from the VSO emergency mobile. SMS reads:

Good news. Strike called off!

I am jumping up and down right now. Really. But only for a second...off to write Brian an email to figure out how we can find a way to meet up in the next couple of days. The torrential downpours that have come with the thunder storms in the last two days have made the dirt roads between here and Kathmandu difficult to navigate, I believe. That seems like a such a small challenge at this point, however.

I have enjoyed these last days the best I have been able. I soaked in having all the time I needed for exercise, cooking, hanging out with friends, reading, watching episodes of LOST, relaxed time at work, and reflection.

There is something to be said for freedom, nonetheless. Freedom of movement, freedom from fear of potential violence and curfews, freedom to buy food whenever I need food, freedom to be busy if I want to be busy, and the freedom to think forward and make plans.

Freedom. Not something to be taken for granted.

Day 3 of nationwide strike

Today the calm here in Hetauda is starting to feel very unnatural.

The first day of the strike felt so peaceful to me. It was a Sunday – a day I normally associate with a day at home, a day of rest and spending time with friends. So, for me, it was natural to stay at home all day cooking, cleaning, and visiting with the one other VSO volunteer here in Hetauda, Elijah. I enjoyed that there was no traffic on the streets at all. Just kids playing, and a few people singing here and there as they did the laundry, chanting as they did puja (prayers).

And I enjoyed that the Maoist protests were accompanied by song and dance.

The peace that I experience on the streets here now, however, 3 days into the indefinite strike, has a different feeling. It is contained by violence. The violence of control, and the increasing worry that people’s basic needs will not be met. Or met at a great cost.

The farmers today in Chittwan, my neighboring district, dumped millions of rupees worth of vegetables into the streets, allowing them to sit and rot. They are not able to sell any of their fruits and vegetables, due to not being able to transport them. This is in a nation that is one of (economically only) one poorest in the world.

Meanwhile, the only vegetables in Kathmandu right now are near-rotten. And very few. Most vegetable shops aren’t open any more, even though shops selling “essential” items have been allowed to open between 6:00 and 8:00 pm every day.
Many of the Maoist cadres have become sick with diarrhea. No joke in a country where diarrhea kills hundreds of people every year (usually children). The doctors report that the diarrhea has been caused by the lack of clean drinking water and an increase in temperatures.

Some Maoists are leaving for home. They are walking….however long it takes.

There has been some violence today. A dairy in one district was smashed and beaten , despite the fact that it was supposed to be allowed to remain open, since it sells milk. A man who works for the television station was beaten. It’s supposed to get worse tomorrow.

Brian is now coming down from the peak of the mountain. I have no way of getting in touch with him, but imagine that he knows what is going on from his guides and local villagers. If everything went according to plan, he should have reached the summit a couple of days ago, and is to return to Kathmandu on Friday. He will return to a different city than he left at the beginning of his trip.

I hope the strike has ended by then and that he can travel freely. I am worried that if the strike lasts, I will not be able to see him before he has to leave the country. I try not to dwell on this possibility for long, however.

I want to post this while I am able, so will end this here. But before I go, I make a request: send thoughts of peace and well being for the people of Nepal. In whatever way you feel comfortable. Especially the farmers, the dairy workers, the journalists, the teachers, the children, the mothers, the workers, and the youth…