Every picture I had in my head of what Nepal would be like has been short sighted and inaccurate. Picture a land of nothing but hills and mountains for miles that is covered in plant growth and cloaked in haze, and then you will begin to understand what it looks like here. Rice stepped hills and tiny villages are overshadowed by the looming Himilayas above them. Everything is a sensory overload of colors, tastes, and smells.
We landed in Kathmandu and the ride from the airport to our guest house was an incredible one. There is trash everywhere and people go in whatever way they can. It is everything I had thought and more. It is hot and dirty and busy and Beautiful. There are few street lights, street signs, or the "right" way to drive through the city. The car horn is used constantly to communicate to the people around you and the traffic of narrow streets never affords you the luxury of letting your guard down. Just outside of our guest house I saw a man get struck by a taxi. The taxi did stop and the man was not seriously injured, but it did remind me not to allow my attention to wander too far.
I am a spectacle everywhere I go. Even now as I type this update from a smaller city outside of Pokhara, a little boy stares at my white skin. I ease how uncomfortable this makes me feel by starting Nepali conversation with someone who stares for too long. They are surprised that this white man speaks their words and then they smile big because they know I respect their country and culture. They are utterly shocked to learn that it is my first day in Nepal and are very interested to know how I learned their language. I am so very glad that we put in the work for our Neapli language lessons before we left.
That night while walking around town I started talking with a younger man who then invited me to a local place where talented musicians play American music. He soon became my friend and I hope to spend some more time with Prabin on my way back through Kathamndu. Much to my surprise, the next morning while we had breakfast in the courtyard, I heard my name being yelled. I looked around and then up to see my new friend high on the roof of the next building over. In laughter and shock I waved and yelled greetings to my friend.
Yesterday we left early in the morning to take a van from Kathmandu to Pokhara to. it is a long journey in itself, but the time of travel doubled as we had to stop at several delays. One of which was a broken down truck blocking half of the tiny mountain road, another was a bridge that was damaged and only one car at a time was permitted to pass. Another obstruction was more tragic. A man had fallen off of the top of a bus and he was backed over by a truck. His lifeless body lay in the street with a red sheet draped over him. A crowd of people made a spectating circle around him that reminded me of how kids gather when there has been a school yard fight.
I'm still trying to process that experience.
People die here everyday due to the harsh nature of life here. There is a transportation strike happening in the west that arose from a bus driver who ran over a child that was playing under his vehicle. He didn't know the child was under his bus. The town people reacted and killed the man and threw his body in the river. I'm reminded of Mohan's words, "These things happen everyday."
On a brighter note, Memory has started her teachers' conference today and once again I am made aware of the many gifts that she brings to our group. 31 teachers from all over the area are attending the three day conference. In a place where change is so slow if at all, I can't help but feel deep hope and happiness when I think of all of the good things that will result because of these educators' diligent efforts in pursuing how to better serve the students they teach.
I realized this morning that back home it is Wed night and that is Trinity's Jr. High youth group night. I felt that absence. How interesting that also today Tom introduced me to a group of 16 years old sitting outside of their house with a guitar. I sat down with them and we sang Nepali and American song on the guitar and talked about life. I asked them to explain what they celebrate during Dasai (the big Hindu festival that is going on now) and we were able to talk about Jesus and God. I guess youth are youth no matter where you go.
So many exciting things lie ahead.
Namaste,
Bill
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