Back Home

(Above): Swastika, my downstairs neighbor, practicing the alphabet on my kitchen table.

I’m back home in Hetauda after a fabulous few weeks in Kathmandu of conferences, meetings, language training, work in our head office, apple pie (mmmm….), talent shows (I won!), afternoon drinks (chang) with a Buddhist monk, bookstores (oh, how I love them), soul-sustaining meals cooked by my friend, Wanet, and time to catch up on all the newest stories from my team of volunteers.

I think I didn’t realize how much I needed to connect with people who do similar work and who speak English. I was embarrassingly giddy when I first arrived and
saw all my friends again.

I am so happy to be back in Hetauda, however. It feels like home now.

It helps that I have started to build good relationships here. People who I see out and about shopping or at the internet café noticed that they hadn’t seen me in awhile and started calling to ask where I was and when I would be back. And it helps that my dhera now is lived in and feels like my personal sanctuary.

Funny, some of the things I thought would be challenges here for me haven’t been at all: having enough money to live off of, being comfortable in my home, having opportunities to be invited into people’s lives and homes.

It is hot in Hetauda, however, and today I am struggling with the heat. It seems as if there is no reprieve. When I come home and can finally take a shower to wash off all the sweat, the water that comes out is warmer than my body temperature. It has been baking in the sun all day on top of my roof.

And I am reminded of the energy it takes to – as politely as possible – ward off all the stares here and the children’s gasps of tourist!!! bedeshi (foreigner) !!! American!!!! wherever I go.

Somehow I can’t imagine being anywhere else right now, however.

Take today, for instance:

I started off the day at my fellow volunteer, Elijah’s, place here in Hetauda watching coverage of the World Cup, as I don’t have a TV in my dhera. I’m not a soccer fan, but I have been swept up in the excitement of the World Cup taking place in South Africa. Upon much prompting to pick my favorite team, I have officially decided to support the Ivory Coast. Their soccer players have used their fame to bring some peace and reconciliation to a war torn country. That’s my kind of team.

I decided I’d leave the rest of the 62 games to Elijah to watch and just update me on, though, and headed home to take a nap, since it felt definitely too hot to clean or do any work (right??).

My coworker called me in the middle of my nap to tell me that they were having an event at our office today (what? No one told me about this ??!??…. It’s a Saturday – the one day of rest here!) and that he really hoped I could pop on over.

Luckily, I have been training myself to be flexible here in Nepal (out of sheer necessity), and found it (mostly) easy to say yes, get up, get dressed in work clothes, get on my bike, and to head to the office.

Turns out they had gathered a sizeable group of students with disabilities and their families and were giving out much needed school supplies, clothing, and assistive devices.

The event was done Nepali style. Instead of just handing the supplies out, my coworkers wisely made this into an event with a purpose. Everyone introduced themselves, there was a long and beautiful speech (so many Nepalis are gifted orators) and then they asked me to ceremoniously hand out the first set of books, backpacks, shoes, and clothes.

The first student then handed a similar package to the second student, the second to the third. It was a metaphor for receiving an opportunity and then passing along this opportunity to others, so that they can also benefit.

What a fabulous idea, I thought. This way the students are not being given a handout from some donor they then start to believe they are dependent upon. They are being given something to support them in their efforts towards learning, and are then asked to pass along this learning and support to others.

Turns out I was needed to give the opening speech. I have realized that just by my presence – a white foreigner (they perceive me as a person with power) – I often give credibility to the work that my organization is doing, a cause, or to an event. I am getting good at giving these impromptu speeches now – the request can come at any time, I’ve learned. Today I used the welcoming speech as my opportunity to put in a word or two about equal access to education, and the importance of fighting for this access.

I am now at home drinking Nepali chiyaa and watching a buffalo with smooth skin and chiseled muscles that has stopped at my neighbor’s front yard to eat some grass, and the tall corn that is growing all around me. I watched women planting the seeds just a month or two ago. Now the corn stalks are tall, lush green, providing a forest for the fireflies flitting about in the dusk.

Lightning has just lit up the sky. It heralds the beginning of the monsoon season here. And a bit of relief from the hot sun.

Off I go to close all my windows and doors before the heavy winds and rain enter…