Anneliese in Nepal

Leaving Kathmandu... And What Stays Behind

2010-05-12T10:17:00.000-07:00

April 30, 2010
Today I left Kathmandu, and I can’t quite explain the tumult of emotions swirling through my head and keeping me from sleeping when I’m downright exhausted. I’ve finished all the goodbyes, so I think most of my tears have been cried and now there’s butterflies of excitement over seeing people I haven’t seen in 8 months! But while I’m excited for whatever’s next for me (God’s still bringing me through the mud on that one!), I can’t help but pray over the future of Nepal...

My last week in Nepal was filled with growing tensions between political parties as the deadline for completing their new constitution nears. The Maoists forced all the private schools in the country to close, in the name of “an unfair raise in tuition rates.” It was nice for me to have a lot of extra time to spend with the kids, but I couldn’t help but wonder when they’ll realize that these strikes just keep Nepal in the “developing” category. Those schools who chose to continue to educate the children who came to learn were visited by “peaceful” Maoists who beat the administrators until they closed the school or set school busses on fire (with no one on them, thankfully). I’m sorry, if you can’t tell, I’ve chosen sides in my time here so my story is a little biased.

Anyway, at the same time, the Maoists were running training camps for around 20,000 of their followers in the areas outside of Kathmandu, all in preparation for the largest protest of the government to occur on May 1. We’re talking military training with bamboo rods (which are incredibly strong and are what the riot police use to control demonstrations) and kukaris (these huge, curved knife sword things that instill fear in me just looking at them). Meanwhile, they continue to maintain that the protest on May 1 will be peaceful, and this training is merely for self defense. Right. Basically, if the Prime Minister hasn’t resigned by then (and as of 1 PM when I left Nepal on April 30 he hadn’t) they plan on overthrowing the government. I have to admit that I’m a little relieved that my flight was moved a day earlier. Maybe nothing will happen then, but there’s a lot of fear that this could be the brink of a new civil war.

With the military training and they mass protest at hand, many families along the border have fled to India as refuge in case this does escalate. The Maoists are demanding huge sums of money as a “donation” for their cause from businesses, schools, and even churches. If you fail to pay, you’re forced to provide some service for their cadres or face the risk of them fulfilling their threats. They’re using schools and churches in the Kathmandu area for “hotels” as they prepare for their protest. It’s hard to imagine stuff like that happening while sitting in the US and following world news, but, after living here, it’s become more than real. I think I better understand what’s going on in countries like Pakistan, Afghanistan, India and obviously Nepal. While the terror element was minimal here, the reality is that overnight the situation could explode.

Last night, between crying and laughing with the family at our own going away party, I told the kids that I am “confident that He who began a good work in them will carry it out to completion until the day of Christ Jesus,” stealing the words verbatum from Paul in Philippians chapter 1. I went on to explain that I couldn’t wait to see what God led them to do, whether pilots, doctors, nurses, teachers, missionaries, pastors, or even government officials. More and more I’m realizing the power of having Godly men and women in all areas of society, and I pray that God would raise up some of His servants to bring honesty, integrity, and the Truth to this broken nation. Of course, thinking about all the turmoil in the US government, I can’t help but have the same prayer over our nation. And it makes me really long for His kingdom to come!

Starting School... Nepali style!

2010-04-23T00:23:00.001-07:00

April 23, 2010
While starting school in the US is an ordeal sealed with scouring ads for the best deals on crayons, glue, and spiral notebooks, here we don’t just have to buy supplies, but also all the school textbooks. After last school year, all the kids were required to “turn in” their books to me, which I managed nicely over the break. I then distributed them, and figured out which books were missing, meaning either we didn’t have enough or the school switched books for this year.

Fortunately, about 1/3 of the books were useable again, but that left a whole lot to buy! For instance, we had no books for Raju, as there were no kids in class 2 last year. Similarly, for class 6 I had to buy 2 full sets as we only had one class 6 student last year, Manisha, but this year we have three, Asha, Arun, and Bimala. To my relief, once kids reach classes 9 and 10, the school won’t change their books, but will phase them out with the next two year’s classes as to not introduce new curriculum right before their SLC exams (graduation exams that are standardized for the entire country; they must be passed before you can be considered a high school graduate).

If you’ve ever talked to a teacher or a college student or anyone school related who has anything to do with textbooks and purchasing them, you’ll quickly hear tales of how much money textbook companies must be making. I mean, some of my books in college were themselves over $200. But if you were wise, you bought used, traded with other students, or decided to share (meaning, only have the studying was necessary, obviously! probably not so good for GPA, but really nice on the pocketbook, especially when you share 4 ways ;)!). So, naturally, I suggested that some of the kids share books, so soften the blow of the textbook bill. They looked at me in appalled horror. “SHARE BOOKS?! Sister, you must be kidding! What if we sit across from each other in class?! What will we do then?” “Share with the person sitting next to you?!” was my logical reply. “NO! We’ll DIE if we have to share books!” “OK OK!”

So, after being persuaded that they could not share books as certain death awaited those who embarked upon that path, I carefully counted, recounted, and counted again the books we needed to purchase. I certainly didn’t want to purchase any extra books! The grand total?! Over 100 books. If you think about it, we buy books for 15 kids, each in a minimum of 8 classes, with the younger kids having more classes as their “fun” classes alternate days. And some classes require more than one book. Some require more than 2 books, and I’d like to have a talk with those teachers! No, I’m just kidding. But, when we got to the bookshop to purchase the books, I quickly realized that book publishers here must be making as much as American textbook publishers. I mean, most books were in the 200 rupee range, which is just under $3 in the US, but that’s a LOT of money for Nepalis (3 weeks worth of lunch for one child!), considering it’s just one book, and you probably needed a good 9 or 10 more for one student, even if they’re in class 2!

But, we sorted, counted, recounted, and counted again to make sure we weren’t paying for anything we weren’t getting, as some books were out of stock. When all was said and done, we ended up spending about 200 dollars on the books, and another 50 later on when we got the missing ones. Then we had to buy copies, their equivalent of spiral notebooks. And each kid needed double the number of copies as classes, one for classwork and one for homework (and their teachers really do require that; last year I was the only teacher who didn’t care where the work was as long as it was done. Some teachers won’t count or check work done in the wrong copy!). And at 30 rupees a pop (which is almost 50 cents each, way more than school sale spirals in the US, which were a mere 5 cents each last year, leading me to invest in hundreds for my students!), we weren’t about to buy that many copies unless we could buy them wholesale. So, Uncle called his printer friend (he has a lot of very useful friends considering he runs a children’s home!), who gave us a great deal on buying enough copies to last through the next millennium for one child, but will maybe last this year with our kids ;).

The last thing we had to do was cover EVERYTHING with thick paper or plastic. The teachers will scold and send kids out of the classroom for not neatly covering their books, so we sat down and covered them, one by one. With all the books and copies we used thousands of staples (literally, each copy requires 10 staples, and we had to cover about 300 of them, plus about 150 textbooks) and hundreds of feet of cover. I sat and tore book cover to the right size, dealing them out as fast as my hands could handle! Then, we had to tape all the corners and edges so the books wouldn’t “damage,” though they damage anyway. And Raju and Darshan (and actually, Laxman too, but he’ll hate me for saying so) don’t really know how to cover, so I covered their books myself, but they had to do the taping. Let me tell you, if you ever need books covered, I’m your girl!

My favorite school supplies to buy were their school boxes, though. I bought each one a new pencil box, which comes filled with a protractor, compass, small ruler, and triangular rulers. Then, because the eraser and sharpener which were included in the boxes don’t work at all, but rather break pencils and rip paper, I bought small erasers and sharpeners for each one, along with pens and pencils. The kids were way excited, and I required them to take their old pencil box home over the break and give it to a brother, sister or friend who needed a pencil box. We talked about how when God blesses us, it’s a chance for us to bless others as well since most of their boxes were still in pretty good shape but were just missing most of the included instruments (minus Raju’s, which looked like he used it for a soccer ball, then stepped on it a few times, then chewed it up and regurgitated it!). So next year, when you think of complaining about the rising costs in school supplies and everything, just remember, you probably don’t have to buy their books, spirals are cheaper there, and you’re probably not buying for 15 kids! But if you are, call me, and I’ll help you :).

Don't worry, I'll find my way home!

2010-04-23T00:07:00.000-07:00

April 22, 2010
In the past few weeks I received a couple of packages of last minute things for me and the kids! As I’ve been feeling braver recently, I went by myself to claim them, even taking Micro-busses all on my own! The first package was a birthday gift from a friend in the US. She and I have very similar tastes in books, especially in Christian literature, and could spend hours talking about books while sitting on the floor at Hastings and thus disturbing others reading nearby in the overstuffed chairs! So, she sent me a book along with some other things, which was way exciting for me!

At customs, I opened the package, and proceeded to show the two officials standing there the contents. Now, one of the officials is this slightly creepy man who just kind of stares at me whenever I’m there. They both know me, though, as I’ve been there to pick up packages for the kids a number of times during my stay here. So, they were satisfied that what I had received wasn’t worth the paperwork, so they didn’t charge me anything, and the man turned and walked off. The lady had noticed that there was something else in the package, and she motioned for me to show her it. I showed her and she burst out laughing when she saw the simple unmentionables and realized that I wasn’t hiding things from them to save money, but rather out of what most Asians would see as rare Western modesty (trust me, they see all the movies and shows on TV which gives them a “great” picture of us!). She turned and walked away, still laughing to herself, and I gathered my gifts and headed out to catch the micro-bus back home.

Well, I’ve gotten more confident in asking for directions and busses, but I must have said something wrong this time. I asked for the bus that would take me to the area where we live, and the conductor nodded emphatically, motioning for me to hop on. I did, and immediately opened my book to start reading. The book is called “Searching for God Knows What” by Donald Miller, and while I wouldn’t agree with 100% of what he says, most of it I do, and he writes in an incredibly real, humorous way. I was literally laughing out loud on the bus as I read, probably more so because this was the first American “entertainment” I’d had in several months! Occasionally, I’d look out the window and think, wow, this doesn’t look so familiar, but I figured we were taking another way home.

Finally we stopped at the end of the line, and I dismounted my smoke spewing carriage and looked around at my surroundings. That’s when I realized I was indeed in a part of Kathmandu (maybe?!) that I had definitely never seen before. I kind of stood there, debating what to do next. Surprisingly, and this is how I know I’ve changed some in my time here, I wasn’t worried at all. I figured, hey, worst case scenario I have to call my parents to get Krishna’s phone number to call him to come rescue me. I know, stupid American not carrying any contact numbers with her. But I figured first I’d try some more micro-busses. To make sure I didn’t get on the wrong bus again, I asked for the larger area just a little bit east of us (I think it’s east... I’m occasionally directionally challenged!), to which another conductor nodded emphatically and said “Jam” meaning come. So, I hopped on, opened my book, and started reading again.

About 20 minutes later I looked up, and to my utter relief we were in familiar territory, though we were still about 10 minutes from home. We finally got there, and I hopped off, very very proud of myself for getting lost and unlost all by myself in a huge city where I only know the basics of communication! My next trip to pick up the final package at the general post office was so smooth, there’s really not much to tell :). The officials only charged me about a dollar in customs fees in exchange for a pack of gum for each of them! I’ve learned the system I guess you could say, though it is sad that they expect (and often require) bribery to claim packages... guess that’s the way the world goes though! Then, I made it home safely, all on my own, without any extra stops! And I gave directions to a girl from New York City who was lost and needed help. Of course, now that I think about it, I have no idea if she made it where she was going, but I think I told her the right bus to catch?! Or maybe I sent her somewhere unknown as well... I’m going to assume I gave her good directions and she made it safely to and from her destination. There you have it, I’m a native Nepali now!

I think I could have been a philosopher...

2010-04-23T00:06:00.000-07:00

April 17, 2010
Today, Sangita Miss called for me to come to her house and meet her family. She teaches English and Social Studies for classes 2-5 at Kantipurri, where I taught this past year. She also has a sister living in San Antonio, so she loved to talk to me about Texas and what it’s like there, and maybe one day when I get back to the US I’ll get to meet her sister!

Anyway, she, her son and her son’s friend came to pick me up on two motorcycles, which is something I’ll really miss in the US (among hundreds of other things here!). I really love riding through the city on the back of a motorcycle... for any interested males, take note (no, I’m just kidding... or am I?!)! We wove through another town in Lalitupur (I live in Talchikkhel, but there are about 14 other towns in the district of Lalitupur), mostly through ally like streets. About 25 minutes later we arrived at her house, a pretty 1st floor rented home in a really quiet area of Lalitupur.

When I went in, I met one of her other sisters, her daughter, and several other relatives! They all spoke English pretty well, which was really nice conversationally. She headed off to the kitchen to fix us a meal while I got acquainted with her family. We watched the start of some pretty gory English movie, and I have to admit that I was really glad when she walked back in with a photo album for me to look through. A few minutes later, they got tired of the movie, and to my silent thanks, they changed the channel to a cricket game, which was a little easier for me to stomach!

But the movie did open doors for some really good conversations with her kids as it led into talking about American culture and some of the realities in America vs. some of the misconceptions they have here. For instance, many Nepali’s believe since America’s developed we have no racial tensions or discrimination. We also got to talk about a lot of Nepali culture and the problems here, and it was really interesting to talk to two well educated (they’re both working on their masters- one in journalism and one in rural development) YOUNG people about the state of Nepal! Probably the most interesting to me was when we talked about the Nepali caste system. In Kathmandu, it’s pretty watered down as there’s a lot of western pressure here for everyone to be treated equally, and a lot of foreign aid to Nepal actually works to push for equal treatment of all people. However, in the rural areas the caste system is still very much in place, and people don’t cross caste lines. If you marry a lower caste, you become lower caste. There’s no moving up, no matter what you do. It the type of conversation that you’d picture in a collegiate coffee shop over a couple of cappuccinos or lattes!

After talking for about an hour, lunch was served, and it was really good, as usual! I was pretty excited because there was not rice and dahl involved, but rather spicy pickle, some of the best tasting chicken I’ve had here, some vegetables and homemade purie (lightly fried thick flour tortillas). We then talked about a lot of the differences in American food, and I was quite humored when they mentioned that they thought Nepal is becoming an obese nation. I told them to come to America and then they’ll know the truth :).

My favorite part of the afternoon, though, was when her son got out his guitar, and he and a friend sang a few songs. His friend is a professional djimbe player (Nepali style, or African, or wherever, bongos basically) and plays every night with his band at one of the fanciest hotels in Kathmandu. And they weren’t playing Nepali songs, though that would have been fine, but rather American hits like Coldplay, U2, and John Mayer (I requested that in memory of watching the “Bucket List” with my friends Katie, Brandee, and Phill... y’all remember that?!). It was a whole lot of fun, and made me want to learn more mainstream music, if only for the jamming possibilities! They had me play a couple of songs and I played 2 church ones. The professional djimbe player is also a Christian, so he appreciated them more, and while he didn’t sing along, he hummed the melodies either because he already knew them or because he must pick up music really fast!

When/if I move back overseas again, I’m going to do this way more often! I’m going to find a local university, and just talk to the students, because they’re the most likely to know English and be interested in talking. I’ve missed the friendship of other people my age so much this year, and that’s partly my fault for not taking some time to get out and meet people, but I have to admit I was too nervous to do much on my own outside the home for much of my time here. That and the whole parenting 15 kids thing! But today I was reminded that we were created for community, and sometimes we genuinely crave talking to other people who are “like” us in some way, and will challenge us. It felt like when I was in college, and my friends and I would talk for hours into the night, sometimes about true issues, sometimes about absolutely nothing, but we enjoyed each other’s company. And I know God uses that time, in His time, in His way! And with social networking websites like Facebook, I can keep up with new friends relatively easily, which is pretty cool considering I’m leaving in 2 weeks. So whether or not these friendships go deeper in the future or not, I really enjoyed the afternoon, and hope for more like them in the near future!

Vacation time! Pokhara, here we come!

2010-04-23T00:05:00.001-07:00

April 13, 2010
We went on a vacation to Pokhara, and it was quite the trip! To start, there were 7 of us piled in Uncle’s little, boxy child of an SUV. It seats 5 Asians easily, 5 Westerners maybe, and 7 people difficultly! So, Joshua road on Auntie’s lap the whole way, while Benjamin, Asha, Isha and I made due in the backseat. Let’s just say we all got to know each other better on the drive!

The drive wasn’t that bad though, even with being squished like sardines. The road was a little rough, and of course there’s always a risk of being knocked off the side of the lurking cliff, but besides that, the scenery was beautiful and we had fun. We stopped often, parking on the side of the road here or there to have a little snack of rice, dal, and these beans. It was the strangest picnic I’ve ever had, but it was tasty! We also stopped at this stop called the Hamlet, and they actually had full seat toilets (for those who have traveled in Asia, you know what you usually get... those squatting holes in the ground...).

When we finally got to Pokhara about 7 hours later, we found ourselves at a huge lake surrounded by looming mountains, late in the afternoon. We drove around, scoping out the best deal for a hotel for 2 nights, and we finally settled on one a stone’s throw from the lake! We spent a little time getting cleaned up, and to my excitement, the hotel had showers! One where I could stand up and the water would come out of a pierced pipe above my head. As this was my first “shower” in the 7 months that I’ve been here, I cannot fully describe the relaxing, enthralling effect it had on me. While it was a mere 10 minutes in the shower, it felt like an eternity!

After refreshing, we walked out to the lake for the sunset, which was absolutely beautiful! Watching the orange red glow twinkling over the gently rolling waters of the lake reminded me just how much detail God puts into those daily occurrences that we so rarely stop and appreciate! We went and ate dinner, and headed back to the hotel to sleep off the long day of traveling. When I laid down to read, though, I looked at the wall, and there, hovering a few feet from my bed midway up the wall, was a gigantic, ginormous, garganchuine cockroach, waiting for me to fall asleep so it could feast on my toes throughout the night. I sprang up like a Jack-in-the-Box wound just a little too tightly, causing a stir in my roommates, Isha and Asha.

Screaming immediately ensued (I’m sure some of y’all heard it in the US), followed by rapid jumping across the beds, trying to smash the thing with my shoes. Shoes were flying, our three twin sized beds were creaking as we bounded to and fro on them, relentlessly pursuing him until he died, knowing that we couldn’t sleep until he was dead, not just out of sight! Finally, Asha dealt the crushing blow, with a sickening crunchy squish as his guts splattered all over the floor. I checked to make sure he was really dead and not just pretending so he could arise and eat us at night, and measured him out to the length of my middle finger. That is one big cockroach. We finally drifted off to sleep, praying fiercely that no other bugs were waiting to nibble at us during the night!

The next morning, we woke up and had a breakfast of rice and curry, and then we headed out to “see the sights.” We went to Devi’s Falls, a river that’s cut so far down in the ground you can hardly see it. At one point there’s this huge waterfall where it plummets even further down into the Earth’s crust, and apparently some guy named Devi once jumped off it, so it’s now called Devi’s Falls. It was pretty, and made me really want to swim! We then loaded back into the car and headed up the mountainside to see the view of Pokhara from the top. There were so many Parasailers jumping off the mountain, one by one, only to float to the ground like the seeds of a dandelion in the wind. Really, they had some sort of good business going there, because one would leave the mountain every 5 minutes or so (I actually timed them because I’m a dorky math person!). Uncle asked me if I wanted to go, and if it hadn’t cost so much, I might have gone. But, on second thought, if I go parasailing, I want to do it with someone I know (as in, my dad!). So, we turned and headed back down the mountain, leaving those gutsy tourists in our dust (literally!).

On our way down, we stopped at the Seto-Collah, meaning the White River. In the US we have Red Rivers, Verde Rivers, and I’m sure there are other colored rivers. But this White River was literally white. The water was like milk flowing through a huge trough, waiting to be consumed by thirsty football playing boys! You couldn’t see anything in it, and it was flowing fast and strong. It wasn’t even like dirt was just stirred up in it. The water was literally white. I’m sure there’s some chemical reason for the white reason, but they say it comes out of the mountains like that. I think the mountains might be sick. But it was really cool looking, not at all dirty looking!

Our final stop was at my request: we rented a wooden canoe like boat and hired a driver and paddled out into the lake! It was by far my favorite part of the trip. Had I not been in jeans and my favorite kotessera top, I might have actually jumped in the lake. The kids were FREAKING out, which is somewhat understandable when you consider the largest river most of them have ever been in is the one where we wash clothes, which is like a piece embroidery string compared to a California king sized comforter! Eventually they settled in and realized we were going to be fine, but Isha was still pretty nervous. Especially when Uncle grabbed the other paddle and began paddling himself, causing the boat to rock a little more. The driver didn’t care, but Isha was sure we were all going to die immediately, and her knuckles were pure white as they gripped the side of the boat. To her relief, we only went out for about 45 minutes, so we were soon back on solid ground. And while I don’t expect that she’ll ever want to go back out on a boat, I was glad that she had the experience under her belt now :).

After dinner that night, Uncle and Auntie surprised me with a cake for my birthday from a local German bakery. There’s a lot of German bakeries around, which is surprising to me! But the cake was really good, and it was fun to celebrate with them. We went to bed, closing the door on our Pokhara adventures. A worthwhile adventure, fast as it was! And one day, maybe I’ll go back with a friend and go Parasailing... or maybe not :).

Amazed at Creation

2010-04-18T20:52:00.000-07:00

April 10, 2010
I might have become a romantic in my time here. I love gazing out over the mountains and just thinking, “wow. I serve one amazingly creative God!” Or to see the sun set over them, creating a red/orange/purple glow across the sky. Maybe it’s because life is so much slower here (for the most part!), but I’ve found myself stopping to notice those little things in nature that inherently reflect God’s nature.

One time while I was sitting outside, I saw a small dead frog sitting on the driveway. I didn’t think much of it, until it began to move a few minutes later. Either frogs could rise from the dead, or something incredibly strange was happening. I walked over and looked closely, and there were hundreds of ants carrying it. I’m not even kidding. They surrounded it as if it was a dignified funeral procession, and they began to carry it. I don’t know why... I don’t think ants eat frogs, but maybe these ones do. Or maybe they were just laying it in a more respectful final resting place. Regardless, I was enthralled, and watched them for about 10 minutes before leaving. To think that ants, who were hundreds of times smaller than this frog, would work together in unison to carry something hundreds of times their weight boggled my mind!

Then there are the butterflies. I’m totally convinced that they are a perfect gift from God, reminding us of His beauty. I mean, as far as I know, they cause harm to nothing, and yet they capture my mind with their delicate dancing across the sky, patiently flickering here and there. Their intricately detailed wings splashed with color reflect the design of a Creator showcasing His creativity! Sometimes I’ll see two of them together, and I’m convinced that we learned to dance from them with their perfect rhythm and grace.

On the other end of the scale are the “holy” cows. They’re often splashed with red on their foreheads, but I can’t blame them for that, because they have no control over what people do to them. But to watch them move lethargically, seemingly without a care in the world, protecting their young, well, it’s peaceful. I like to watch them eat grass; they don’t rush, they find a nice spot, and then deliberately eat, chewing each mouthful over and over before moving on. Of course, here, they’re safe from a deliberate killing as they’re “holy,” so, they really don’t have a lot to worry about.

I figure when I get back to the US, I’ll go back to a faster paced way of life, but sometimes I’ll have to stop and look at God in the world He created. I want to learn to dance from the butterflies and slow down and enjoy life like the cows do. But sometimes, I just like to watch the ants.

It's all of God's children singing glory, glory, hallelujah He reigns!

2010-04-18T20:50:00.000-07:00

April 8, 2010
Some days you know God has sent you someone special, someone to remind you of your purpose and your work here on Earth. Sometimes they’re people you know, but here I’ve found that just as often they’re complete strangers, just passing through my life, making me wonder if I’ve unwittingly entertained angels! Angel or not, these are the people who get me through day in and out! They’re the body of Christ!

Today, we started painting the upper part of the fence around the house. It’s iron with these spikes on top to keep thieves at bay, with criss-crossing rebar creating a battleship grid on top of the brick wall. It comes in panels my arm span long (think, 5’5” arm span, give or take a few inches!) with these thick, javelin like posts in between them. It was starting to rust, so we had to prime the whole darn thing, and then go back and paint it a beautifully rich black.

Now, understand that we were doing this just 3 days after painting the majority of the common areas in the house white. A 3 day project that ended on a 9 hour note! So, our arms were ready for the swiping paint action. Yesterday, we took steel brushes to get off all the flaking paint, and this morning Shiva and I began priming the fence around 6:30am. Slowly, the reddened black fence began to turn white. About 2 hours later we were finished, just in time for my tutoring session with some kids from another hostel and then the English class I’m teaching at church. Never let anyone fool you: breaks aren’t always slow!

After returning home a few hours later, Uncle mixed the black paint for Shiva and I, and we began coating the fence. Painting rebar strand by strand is like dipping each piece of spaghetti into the sauce, one at a time with your hands. Long, tedious, and everybody involved gets sauced! So, we called Asha and Isha to help, but, they have the attention span of a mosquito and were incredibly concerned about getting paint on themselves (they were appalled at how speckled I was!). So, Shiva and I worked on it awhile more, and then Shiva said to leave it for the morning. Well, I was on a roll with my iPod in one ear, swiping to the likes of Jimmy Needham, tobyMac, Sanctus Real, and Natalie Grant, while I listened for kids fighting with the other. In terms of multi-focusing, I’m so ready for parenthood!

Well, I was singing along to myself, when suddenly I heard from the other side of the fence, “Pardon me, but could you use some help?!” I looked up startled, made sure I didn’t fall of the chair I was standing on in my surprise, only to see a kind, brown-haired light-skinned lady standing there looking at me. My first inclination was to say, “No, I’ve got it handled” but she had something about her that made me say, “Sure, if you really want to!” She told me that she had seen me in the morning and wanted to come out, but she was busy until now. I handed her a brush, and she introduced herself as Violetia from Brazil. I introduced myself and asked how she had come to Nepal. She hesitated only a moment before saying, “Well, I am a Christian and I felt Jesus was calling me to come here.” A huge smile broke across my face as she glanced at me to see my reaction and I replied, “We’re Christians too!” Excitement broke across her face as I explained that this is a Christian run children’s home.

We talked for the better part of another hour painting, bouncing questions off each other. She’s in her late 50s, though she looks much younger. She also looks so familiar to me. One of those deja’vu things where you want to say “have we met before?” but you know the answer is no. She’s got several siblings in Brazil along with her younger daughter, who’s 23. Her older daughter is 32 and lives here with her in Nepal. She’s just here to help wherever she can. If she sees someone who might need help, she asks if she can help.

She came to Nepal last year and spent 7 months here before returning to Brazil for a few months. When she came, she knew almost no English or Nepali, and communicated using facial expressions and her hands. Now, she speaks incredibly clear English and understood everything I said! She’s currently taking a class in Nepali and attends a church a little ways down the road. I asked her about her future plans, but she merely smiled and said, “I’m ready to stay or go whenever Jesus tells me to stay or go.”

I’ve been trying to teach the kids to serve, and they really are getting better about it, but she was an incredible example of selfless service and love for the kids today. They looked on in awe and wonder at this woman who would walk to a home of people she’d never met before and ask if she could help them with their work. And I was so encouraged by her faith: a faith that took her from her home to a land where she couldn’t speak or understand what was said just to find people to help. It makes me think of how many times I’ve wasted opportunities to serve right at home: helping an elderly person with their groceries, helping a neighbor with yard work, or helping a stranger paint! And It made me so thankful that God’s moving all over the world! I mean, what are the chances of a 57 year old Brazilian woman bumping into a 23 year old American girl (I still don’t feel like a grown up!) in the valleys of Nepal?! I guess 100% when you serve a God like mine!

As I bathed in kerosene later on (it’s the only way this paint will come off your skin... good thing I don’t smoke!) I couldn’t help but smile to myself and hum the tune of “He Reigns” by the Newsboys. It’s opening verse goes like this:
“It’s the song of the redeemed rising from the African plains. It’s the song of the forgiven drowning out the Amazon rain. The song of Asian believers filled with God’s holy fire. It’s every tribe, every tongue, every nation, a love song born of a grateful choir! It’s all of God’s children singing Glory, Glory, Hallelujah He reigns!”
My God is not limited by man-made country boundaries or languages or money or time or anything. He goes where He wants and does what He wants and moves people like chess pieces until the “powers of darkness tremble at what they’ve just heard!” Because this is what life is about. People from every tribe, every tongue, every nation praising Jesus, serving each other and loving the world. And I so want to be in the middle of that, every single day for the rest of my life!

Easter Sunday Parade!

2010-04-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

April 4, 2010
While I’ve been here, I’ve seen so many instances of the Maoists, Nepali Congress, and other people striking or picketing in the streets. I had never seen the Christians cause a commotion, until today...

Easter Sunday started with a 5:30 church service at the church. We sang a few songs, read a passage of Scripture, and had boiled eggs and pastries for breakfast. It was a relatively short service, and since our usual services are on Saturday, there weren’t many people there (that and the fact that when you have church and the sun hasn’t begun to come up yet, well, that’s early!). We finished, and about 6:45 we walked out to the main road with “Happy Easter,” “He is Risen,” and a number of other signs in our hands. We also had a big banner which two people carried in the front, a lot like those ones football teams run through before their games!

We began to walk down the street in a pack, and soon other churches were joining us. There were grandparents and children, songs and dancing, speakers and microphones. All while walking down the street! I knew our final destination, Ratna Park, but I had no idea how we were going to get there. Well, soon, our one church march down the street became 3, then 5, then 25, then beyond counting! The police were out in full force, making sure no one got hit on the streets while pedestrians looked on in bewilderment. Usually when people walk down the street holding picketing signs, they’re angry about something. But this time, they weren’t at all.

Some churches joined forces all singing the same songs together, some chanted about Jesus being risen, some did friendly competitions with singing to see who could sing louder. Most danced (while walking... pretty amazing, I know!), jumped, shouted, and beamed with joy. Tracts flew from hands, overwhelming those out for their ordinary morning duties. Who are these abundantly joyful people? Why are they so happy? Why are there THOUSANDS of them walking down our streets? Where are they going?

People took photos, shot videos, called relatives and asked us, “Why are you walking down the streets singing?!” And the joyous answer they received was simple, “Jesus is risen and we are saved!” Now, I wasn’t there on Palm Sunday, but I think I have a better understanding of what happened then after seeing the streets of Kathmandu on Easter. Back then I’m sure there were people questioning about the commotion, people dancing, people shouting “Hosanna!” Except for one huge difference: we were celebrating a risen Savior, one who has already conquered over death, and sits enthroned in heaven, while they were celebrating a future Savior, one who was about to face death, and sat on a donkey.

Somehow, it seemed so right: for once, the Christians had effectively stopped traffic across the city, on some of the busiest roads! But we weren’t angry, protesting, or even picketing. We were just celebrating our Risen King. Once we reached Ratna Park, the multitudes streamed in, while a huge praise team on the concrete stage to the side led in worship. I don’t know that I’ve ever felt so connected to Christ on Easter. They were singing hymns in Nepali, but I knew almost all of the English words to the same songs. To be able to sing Christ’s praises with about 95% of the Christians in Kathmandu was amazing! And I know one day we’ll all do the same thing in heaven :).

Party like its... Kathmandu, Nepal!

2010-04-07T06:43:00.000-07:00

March 26, 2010
Katching, katching... clunk, clunk! One by one the kids came home from school, medals encircling their necks, certificates consuming their hands, smiles overwhelming their faces. I might not have the most academically strong students, but I’ve got an athletic bunch! I think the grand total was 19 medals from sports day at school, and that was for only 13 kids! An impressive number, one that surprised the other teachers! So, I told the kids on the last day of school we would have a party to celebrate...

After we finished school on the last day of school, we all headed home, bound for an incredibly busy afternoon and evening! First, we went out to the river to wash clothes. Lots and lots of school clothes so that when they get back after break all their clothes will be clean and ready to go. Not to mention the mountain of clothes from Uncle and Auntie. So, we spent about 4 hours basking in the sunlight (well, for Rupa and I that would be burning in the sunlight!), enjoying the coolness of the river, soaping and rinsing over and over again! After finishing all the wash, we walked home, so the real fun could begin.

Upon returning home, I sent Arun out to buy 2.5 kg of chicken. While he was gone, I began “baking” the cakes. I could have just bought one, but I found these Pillsbury ones in the shop (the ones with the sprinkles in them creating colorful specks in the golden cake!) and the kids wanted me to “bake” for them, so I figured I’d give it a try. I found a big pot to cook them in (not our HUGE one for cooking rice for 16 kids, but one similar that’s slightly smaller!) and decided my best method would be to cook thin cakes and stack them. So, one by one I “baked” them, and they actually turned out great! The edges were golden, and the center was cooked perfectly. Two burned on the bottom and edges, but when I flipped them over, that part stuck to the pan while the rest fell nicely on to the plate, leaving just the moist, white center to be eaten! Plus, for some reason, the boys loved the black part left in the pan, so they were excited when that happened. I had found some knock-off icing spread, which I figured we’d try. The kids really liked it, so I covered the “cake” in it, saving it for after dinner!

Then, we had rice and meat and curry for dinner, which they loved. It was more meat than they were used to, so everyone got plenty to eat! After dinner, we headed into the sitting room to have the cake and some soda that I bought for the occasion. I went a little overboard and bought 2 litre bottles of Pepsi, Coke, Fanta, and Sprite, which sounds like nothing compared to how much we Americans would drink at a party, but here we use these tiny cups to serve soda at parties, about the size of those paper cups for the bathroom. So each kid got 2 refills, and we served the cake on used sheets of paper torn out of their old notebooks (nothing quite like paper plates with the quadratic equation sprawled all over them!). The kids LOVED the cake, and begged me to make it again. Unfortunately, the shop doesn’t have any more sprinkle cake, but they do have chocolate cake which I’ll make for them before I leave! That and German sweet rice :).

To finish off the evening, I game them all the games and toys my parent’s Sunday School class sent. I had divided up the gifts, and I gave the kids their treasures on one condition: any toys/games they received had to stay at home after the break! People in the US have overwhelmed us with gifts and games, and the kids have all that they could want here! And most of the games were duplicates of ones we already had at home, so I instructed the kids to take them home to their villages and teach the children there how to play them and then leave them there for those kids! The kids were more than happy to do that, as many had already done that with their Christmas gifts. I gave the two brand new, beautiful silver soccer balls to Darshan and Rajkumar, who beamed like you’ve never seen. They were so excited to take these balls home and play with their village friends who don’t have a ball to play with! And there were loads of sports jerseys and t-shirts for the boys, which they loved, and most wore to church the next day! The girls got some games and a ton of hair accessories, which have adorned their hair ever since. I was worried because all the boys were getting multiple t-shirts and big toys like footballs and soccer balls, but the girls were so excited about their hair stuff that they couldn’t stop looking at them and comparing and trading!

I think the thing that got me the most was when Manisha said, “Sister, no one’s ever thrown us a party like this! I mean, it’s just for us, and we get meat and you made us a cake and bought soda!” I mean, we’ve had a lot of parties while I’ve been here, but none have been just FOR the kids! It made me realize how far love goes. I mean, the cake wasn’t as pretty as a store bought one, but they loved it more because I made it for them! And the meat didn’t cost that much (about $10 for it all), but they only get meat once a week, so it was special. And they never get soda (unless Uncle takes a few of them out to a restaurant), so that was something completely special. And altogether it cost me about $25 for everything. Of course the gifts from the US cost a lot more, and the kids loved them more for it! I hope that I never forget how appreciative I should be, even over the “small” things in life, because there are people in the world who will never get even those small surprises!

Living without Water and Electricity: The Upside!

2010-03-29T22:22:00.001-07:00

March 24, 2010
I’ve come up with a list of the top reasons everyone should live without water and electricity at least once in their live. Hope you enjoy!
1) Living without electricity is cheaper on the power bill. Really, you pay way less when your power’s off half the time!
2) Living without water is cheaper on the water bill. I think we pay around 55 rupees (less than one dollar) a month for water.
3) You learn to be incredibly careful with your time. You wake up in the morning thinking, now when should there be power today? What do I need to do during those precious few hours?!
4) You build lots of muscles for free hauling water up the stairs while trying not to use the toilet at the same time. No gym necessary, and the more times you use the toilet during the day, the stronger you’ll become!
5) No power forces all the children to leave the TV room during the holidays for most of the day. It’s good for them to get some fresh air!
6) Everything’s more romantic by candlelight- dinner, studying, using the toilet. Ok, maybe not that last one, but it is kinda fun to be reading by candle light. I just pretend I’m on the old west frontier with my covered wagon parked out front!
7) You pray for heat to melt the snow so more power comes fastly (that’s an English word in Nepal, really.). Of course, with that heat comes sweat and stink, and there’s no water to wash, so you learn to really appreciate everyone’s bathing days!
8) That said, bathing is overrated, and if you have no water to bathe, then you use that time for other things. Like moaning about there being no power and water.
9) It’s rather humorous to see children RUNNING up the stairs with a bucket of water sloshing this way and that in a desperate attempt to make it to the toilet on time!
10) You become INCREDIBLY efficient with the little water available. For instance, my little handwashing water becomes foot washing water after it’s been used and then it becomes toilet flushing water. It’s called recycling ;).
11) When the power’s out in the evenings it becomes a “forced curfew,” allowing your body to get that much craved sleep as you may as well go to sleep at 9 since, well, that candle’s about to finish anyway!
12) You start having dreams about going on cruises with friends- on oceans of drinkable water... you dive in and just start drinking and drinking and don’t have to worry about saving some for later because, well there’s a whole ocean of it!
13) And last but not least, you’re just that much more thankful for those times with power and water! And you definitely won’t take them for granted again...

Went down to the river... washed in the water!

2010-03-29T22:18:00.001-07:00

March 21, 2010
Going out to the river is an all afternoon experience. We bring buckets full of collected dirty clothes (and grudgingly agree to do the laundry of those not joining us ;)!) and clothes soap and shampoo and body soap and water to drink and usually some snacks. Then, we walk about 15 minutes through our community, before reaching the hill leading down to the river. The hike down is on the verge of dangerous as we juggle buckets, large wash bowls and trashcans full of essential items for an afternoon in the sun. Unfortunately, that hike back up AFTER washing everything is killer- I never knew my lungs and calves could burn so much!

I’ve been enough now that I have a “spot” where I go every time! Now before you go thinking this is the Mississippi river or the Guadalupe, let me tell you it’s not, at least not now. At the widest spots it’s no more than 12 feet wide, and only a foot or two deep. But I figure as the snow melts on the mountains (which it is now!!!), the level will continue to rise. Anyway, there’s this spot with this rocky “island” and several large rocks which Arun so kindly relocated for me to use. I proceed to put all of our junk on the island, and then divide the clothes up to wash and begin the process.

I half fill one of the buckets with clean water flowing over a rocky dam Arun built for me, and then add powdered soap. I squish squash the clothes for a good 3 minutes watching with wonder as the water turns a deep chocolate brown. Then, I lodge the bucket between three rocks that make a tripod for me and squat in the middle of the river, using two of the largest stones as my table. Their tops are about the size of a large flat rate USPS box (guess you can tell what’s lying around my room!) and I use one for finished clothes and one for the clothes I’m soaping. I then take each garment individually soaping it, scrubbing it with the brush, and then throwing it on the finished rock. After each load is finished, I proceed to fill the bucket halfway, rinsing each piece individually over and over again. This keeps me from stirring up dirt as I work, keeping the clothes a little cleaner!

Finally, I lay the clothes on the dry grass adorning the banks of the river or on sheets that are laying out in the sun. Then it’s on to another load! While us girls wash and wash and wash some more, though, the boys move here and there, looking for a good swimming hole. Unfortunately for them, we’re not the only ones at the river, and other people will scold them for stirring up dirt into the water, so they have to search pretty well. When they do find a decent hole (of about 2 feet deep, maybe 2.5 if you’re really lucky), they begin to float nicely like all boys do in the pool. Except not. Last time, I had to warn Prabin that if he baptized anyone I would make him stay out of the water for the rest of the day. Really. He was baptizing Raju, Darshan, and attempting to baptize Arun, but unfortunately for him, Arun’s bigger than him! But his baptisms were long and prolonged, and ended with the boys screaming bloody murder. So, I had to end his fun. But most of the time they’re just splashing and playing with one another, and finally bathing nicely.

The past two times that we’ve gone, though, we’ve had an unwelcome guest. There’s this man who lives down by the river (I hope he does anyway, otherwise he just lurks there all the time), and he’ll casually pick a spot about 30-50 yards away from us and just sit and watch. It’s creepy. If I knew Nepali and was braver, I might tell him off, but, I don’t and I’m not, so I just hurry the girls through the washing, and pack us up and head home. This past time we actually moved up the river after washing all our clothes so us girls could wash our hair out of his sight, but a few minutes after we found a good spot, he came sauntering by, walking by slowly, then turning and walking back by. I’ve never been so glad to have 4 teenage boys constantly checking up on the girls and I! The boys will make great dads one day! Maybe it's growing up with 15 other kids hanging around ;)...

Love. NOW!

2010-03-27T19:24:00.001-07:00

March 17, 2010
Now, I haven’t been “parenting” very long, but it’s been one of those trial by fire experiences. I’ve had all the “He hit me!” “Because she’s teasing me!” episodes along with the frantic, “Sister, I need a ruler, compass, blue pen, black pen, and the most hard to find pen nip. BEFORE we go to school in 5 minutes!” Or the, “I washed his shirt accidentally and now he’s wearing it and he didn’t wash mine so I don’t have anything to wear to school because that one smells!” My typical response has become one that my mom used to use with us quite often, “Is this a problem you want me to solve?!” I don’t think they quite understand the question, but their momentary pause in the complaint is worth the misunderstood question.

However, I have the occasional serious episode, which usually involves one of the younger children crying because one of the older ones was beating them or yelling at them. Well, we hit a climatic point the other day, as I found one of the younger boys with full out gut wrenching sobs echoing in the kids dining room, sitting alone. I knelt down next to him, trying to get him calmed down enough for me to understand what had happened. In a halting, hiccup filled statement he explained that the older boys were beating him and scolding him and always treat the younger boys as servants and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. Now, you might think that he was overreacting, and he probably was to some extent, but I’ve had several discussions with the older boys about NOT disciplining the younger boys as they are not parents. Since this wasn’t the first instance where I’d heard of or seen the older boys overstepping their bounds with the younger ones, I took them inside the dining hall, sat them down, and lit into them. We went through all the ways they are to LOVE their younger brothers, not beat them and treat them as slaves. When I finished, I had two remorseful, sullen boys on my hands, just in time for devotionals.

I mulled over the incident during the songs, and I decided to deviate from our “next” passage and we went through 1 Corinthians 13 instead for our Bible study. We talked about how if Jesus had seen a child crying, He would have scooped him up on His lap and hugged him and let His love fill the child’s bones. I understand that they’re kids and they’ll fight and cry and all, but we had gone too far. So, after we finished reading, I gave each of them a sheet of paper and they had to write their name on the top. Then we proceeded to pass the papers around the table, writing one thing we loved about whomever’s paper we currently had. They were required to write on every single person’s paper, and it took some of them awhile. To make it interesting, they weren’t allowed to write the same thing twice! We had the typical “I love you because you are funny” but we also had the more serious “I love you because when I’m sad you listen and help me feel better.” By then end, everyone was smiling and I’m praying they realized that there’s something to love in every one of their brothers and sisters.

When everyone had written on everyone else’s paper, I collected them (so I could write on them later that night; as mediator making sure everyone was playing fair, I didn’t have time to then!) to their dismay. I promised to return them the next morning, and then headed off to write my notes to them. The next morning, I handed them back out after breakfast, and you would have thought I had given them gold as excited as they were (and I guess in some ways I did give them a piece of gold...)! All 14 wandered around outside, reading, laughing, and commenting on why their “siblings” loved them. I know they’re not going to change overnight, but the love in that moment was worth the hours work the night before! I think it got them thinking about how there’s something to love in every one of us, because God’s created each of us! We can’t always see what God’s plans are for each of us or even how He’s working in our hearts, but with faith we know that “now we see as in a mirror, but then we shall see face to face...” (1 Cor 13). And I saw a lot more love yesterday than I had in awhile!

And with the sound of a Klunk, there was no water...

2010-03-27T19:23:00.000-07:00

March 16, 2010
“Klunk.” With a smack, the bucket jerked to a stop at the end of the rope. I looked with surprise at the boys pulling water for Didi, Rupa and I as we washed a mountain of clothes. Arun peered intently down the chasm to the small circular reflection over 30 feet below. With a grin, he looked up and stated, “I think we’ve hit the bottom!” Concerned, I looked over at Didi and said, “Then how do we finish the wash?!” A hurried Nepali discussion flew between them, before we established that we would finish washing at home, and then walk about 30 minutes to rinse the clothes in the river. Arun looked at me with pleading eyes and said, “Sister, can I go to the bottom of the well?! There are some buckets that fell down there!” As Auntie and Uncle were out, I wasn’t about to authorize a 14 year old boy to climb down the well, with or without water! As he pouted I ran upstairs to grab my laundry bag to take to the river.

When I got back downstairs, I found almost all the kids gathered around the well, and Arun and Shiva’s arms were rippled with strain as they gripped the rope leading into the well. After doing a quick head survey, I discovered Laxman was missing, and I has a suspicious suspicion that I knew exactly where he was. “Laxman?!” I called as 12 heads turned and looked at me. A small, echoey “Yes?!” was the reply that returned to me. “Is he IN the well?!” I asked Shiva and Arun. Their grins that said “I wish I was in there but I’m still glad to be part of the action” told me everything I needed to know. I ran over and looked down into the darkness, where Laxman was standing with one foot in the bucket and the other in mid air as they lowered him down. Again, I’m a terrible parent as I quickly gauged the distance down vs. the distance to come back up and deemed he might as well finish his journey down and tell us what was at the bottom.

After a few year-long seconds, he reached the bottom, to my utter relief. There were a couple of old buckets that had long ago fallen to what we thought was their end, finally rescued months or years later. Laxman shouted up to let us know the water was only ankle deep, which explained why we were having trouble pulling up any water! Finally, he was ready to come back up. Now, Laxman is shorter than me, but he’s build solidly. More so than any of the other gangly older boys. I have a little more strength than my boys, so I grabbed the rope with Arun and we began to heave Laxman up. “Ugggh! LAXMAN! NO MORE RICE FOR YOU!” we shouted down the well. “Whoa! Be careful with me!” was the frantic reply. Slowly, we finished his ascent, and we twisted him this way and that to get him out.

We then determined that we would in fact have to do our clothes washing in the river, for the rest of the dry season (which I hear is through May). The other well still has a little water at the bottom, but it’s the reddest, smelliest water you’ve ever seen and can’t be used for dishes or for clothes. So, we’re down to the drinking water (when the power’s on) and the big semi-drinking water tank. Needless to say, I’ve been incredibly proactive when there’s power making sure every single water jug is filled to the brim before the power goes out! Uncle told me this happened last year too, and they just make a day of it each week, spending a relaxing day at the river washing clothes, bathing, and just sitting. Which sounds just fine to me :).

They call me Dr. Sister...

2010-03-15T21:14:00.000-07:00

March 14, 2010
One day, Darshan came running to me, blood flowing freely exposing raw skin on the tip of one of his toes. Now, the kids are always asking me for “handi-plus,” the Nepali equivalent of a Band-aid, and 90% of the time I’d need a microscope to see the wound (or, “oond” as they can’t say wound!). Well, not seeing the trail of blood running from the driveway through the front door and up the stairs, I quickly asked “Now Darshan, let me see the blood and I’ll give you a Band-aid,” assuming it was another pin prick for which the best remedy is “toughen up, kiddo!” “Sister, Look!” he said with a painful grin spreading across his strong face. I looked down, and was pretty sure I was going to vomit. I immediately steered him out onto the porch, grabbed my roll of athletic tape, some alcohol swabs, and the Neosporin. I gently cleaned the wound and bandaged it as best I could. He hobbled back down the stairs, cleaning the evidence as he went!

A few days later, Arun came to me the same way, with a similar “oond” on his toe. I thought it was odd, but the kids all wear sandals pretty much always, so I figured the boys had just forgotten how to walk. So, we went through the process of cleaning it and bandaging it, and he sadly had to just watch all the other boys play and have fun later that afternoon.

Well, Manisha thought it was hilarious that Arun had hurt his toe and couldn’t quite walk right and was hobbling around. Remember, this is Arun who flies up and down the stairs and is always running somewhere! For him to be gingerly creeping up and down the stairs was quite the contrast, and in her opinion worthy of definite ridicule! Well, the same day that he injured his toe, she was racing to straighten all the shoes so she could get back into the TV room to watch with the other kids and she shut the door over her toe. Not even kidding. A huge chunk of toe was left on the unforgiving door and she cried out in pain. This is where my horrible parenting skills come in: I burst out laughing. Blood is beginning to pool and threatening to drip on the carpet, so I sent her upstairs to clean it and wait for me while I tried to get myself under control. Fortunately, the other kids (Manisha included) thought this was God’s sense of humor punishing her for teasing Arun too much! So, I cleaned and bandaged her toe, and she began life as a hobbling gimp.

I’m sure you’ve figured out the pattern now. I walked outside one day to see Laxman sitting on the ground, a pained expression etched onto his face as the other kids stood around, with smiles on their faces. Looking down, I saw his toe was torn open and blood was spilling over onto the concrete ground. With confused laughter, I told him not to move, and I ran up and grabbed my tape and supplies (thankfully I’m hyper-prepared for a medical emergency and had a hospital’s supply of everything with me!) and ran back downstairs. Well, this time I really dug in to find out how these “oonds” were all popping up suddenly. I mean, maybe it was the new Nepali style to injure one toe and walk around with it taped or something (not that anyone could see the “oond” with the school shoes on anyway, though!). Laxman said that it was due to football (soccer in America), and I asked how suddenly football had caused so many injuries. He said it just did, which didn’t satisfy me, so I began to investigate further.

My final piece of evidence was Shiva. I was out watching them play football in the driveway, and he went to kick the ball, and his sandal got caught on the ground, bending back and allowing his toe to intimately meet the unforgiving concrete below, causing a mass of torn flesh and a pool of blood to flow. “Don’t move!” I told him, and I ran up to grab my supplies and came back to fix his toe. Having finally discovered the true cause of the toe injuries, I did what any good parent would do- I made a new rule. “You are NOT allowed to play football without tennis shoes, which every single one of you have upstairs! If I catch you playing without good shoes on, I’ll take the ball and not let you play anymore!” “But sister, this is the best time for us to play, because we now know we have a doctor living with us, so if we get hurt, you’ll fix us!” Laxman protested. “No discussion. Either put on your tennis shoes or don’t play.” Sullenly the boys walked the two flights up the stairs to their room, complaining that having to put on their tennis shoes was wasting valuable football time. I told them that they’re lazy.

Since then I’ve checked on them every now and then, and they’re smart enough to wear their tennis shoes now when they play. Guess they know that I’ll seriously take their ball and not let them play if they’re not! And I haven’t had any more toe fashion statements in the last week or so, but I figure as the kids got injured in order from youngest to oldest, there’s no one older than Shiva to get hurt. It’s not often that a 10 year old sets the trend for his 14, 15 and 16 year old brothers (along with his sister!). That said, if you ever rip the skin off your toe jaggedly leaving blood and dirt dancing in its place, I’m there. I’ll fix you up, give you a good scolding for not wearing tennis shoes, and then send you back out to play (or hobble!) with a smile :).

Rajkumar... Speak clearly, child!

2010-03-10T19:23:00.000-08:00

March 11, 2010
Rajkumar is a 12 year old boy, wavering daily on whether he’s still a “boy” with Darshan and Raju or if he’s an “adolescent” (a word the kids learned at school and is now used freely around the home in reference to the oldest kids!) along with Shiva, Laxman, Prabin and Arun (though Arun still has the free spirit of a boy!). He’s at that 7th-8th grade level, and I had once contemplated moving down to teach those grades, and now I know that my calling is freshmen! Not that it’s Rajkumar- he’s a great kid, usually funny, a fantastic artist, and genuinely cares about you. It’s more that phase of kids when they’re trying to fit into shoes that are just too big for them and you just want to tell them to wait and one day they’ll fit, but they won’t listen :).

Rajkumar has the same problem that I struggled with for most of my childhood (just as my mom!)- he mumbles and slurs all his words together. Rami says that he speaks “roughly,” and she’s right. I think that’s what’s been hardest for me with him, I can’t understand most of what he says in English, much less Nepali! That and the fact that he speaks at 900 words per minute makes it very difficult to have a good conversation with him. A few days ago I finally sat down and told him, “Rajkumar, you are so hard to understand when you speak! You have to slow down and speak clearly if you want people to understand you, ok?!” And that’s when I realized that I must have sounded exactly like my mom did when I was a child! Though, spending 8 months in a ESL country will perfect your pronunciations and teach you to speak slowly :). Since our talk, Rajkumar’s speech is becoming clearer, which is nice!

On the flip side of the coin, Rajkumar is a pretty funny kid. For instance, he’ll discover something on his plate that is questionable, hold it up to just in front of his nose so that his eyes are crossed as he examines it, then he’ll grin and throw it on Darshan or Raju’s plate. Or he’ll talk to the chickens or Dolly (the dog) in this strange cross between an old woman and adolescent boy high pitched voice (picture an old old old grandmother saying “cold hands, warm heart, sonny!”) that cracks often which is really humorous and strangely the time I understand him the best! And for his lack of conversational skills, his communication with paper and pencil is phenomenal. He is a fantastic artist, especially with landscape pictures. I recently had the kids make a poster for the dining room with a big tree and the 9 fruits of the Spirit written on it in Nepali, and he drew the tree with some birds nesting in it while a few other kids drew the fruits. It was phenomenal! With enough practice, both he and Prabin could really be great artists!

Rajkumar’s got a mother and some younger brothers at home and his face is brightest when he talks about his family. I know he genuinely loves them, and he misses them while he’s here. He was one of my boys who was quick to share his Christmas presents with his brothers at home, leaving most of them there for them to play with while he was studying here at school! His compassion for others continues to amaze me! He has a genuine heart for other people, especially those who are hurting or don’t have as much as him and he is quick to do everything he can to remedy the situation. God’s going to continue to use that compassion to further His kingdom, and I can’t wait to see how He does that!

Living the American Life, minus electricity and water...

2010-03-10T19:21:00.000-08:00

March 10, 2010
Most days I feel like I’m living around the block in the US. I mean, sure, everyone else is brown with beautiful long swishy hair and I rarely hear a lick of English outside of school and home, but still, it doesn’t feel all that different. But there are times when I’m reminded of just where I am...

Apparently, we’ve hit the driest season of Nepal. Honestly, I had hoped that was past as I’m pretty sure our well bucket makes it to America before we hit water! And we had a FANTASTIC thunderstorm the other day, which got my hopes up with the sudden onslaught of water! But to my dismay, I read in the paper a few days later that rainy season doesn’t start until Junish. I mean, really people, JUNE?! Meaning that we haven’t hit the worst of the dry season yet. Resulting in two things: a shortage of clean water and a shortage of electricity.

About a week ago, I woke up, went downstairs and started into my devotional. A few minutes later kids started trickling downstairs with toothbrushes tucked under their arms, in their hair, or clutched in their tired hands. We use clean water to brush our teeth, but we’re not supposed to do much else with it outside of drinking. This water comes from an electric machine that’s about the size of a home fuse box. A short but cool background story: one of my dad’s friends works for a water purification company in the US. Actually, water purification is just one of it’s branches, but about 9 months ago they decided to install water purification systems in some third world countries, targeting schools and orphanages. And Nepal was one of their targeted areas. And this orphanage was one of the homes where they installed their machine, along with the school I teach at down the street! It’s a small world, isn’t it? Come to find out that without this machine, we’d have to walk about a quarter mile each way to get clean drinking water. Needless to say, I’m very thankful for his company’s generosity!

Anyway, we have two other types of water as well: somewhat purified water for cooking and well water for everything else, including our indoor plumbing. As it gets drier and drier here, the well water has become redder and redder. And with the power outages, there’s not as much drinking water, though we try to stock up with big water drums when there is power, but often there’s no water when there is power. Which leaves us in quite a pickle! So, about 10 minutes after the teeth brushing started, I heard loud scolding from the kitchen, with girls arguing incessantly. One of the girls had used the last of our drinking water to wash her face. I mean, it wasn’t a huge deal, because if we really wanted to drink water we could boil the somewhat purified water and drink it, but, I think it was the principle of the matter. And I’ll admit, I’ve been tempted more than once to use the drinking water for washing my face (somehow, washing you face in red water seems pointless!), but I’ve restrained myself! Last week, though, Uncle and Auntie let us start using the somewhat purified water for bathing as the well water is just too red, which should cut down on us women’s temptation to use the drinking water for our faces!

The other problem with the dry season, though, is the shortage of electricity. Most of Nepal is powered by Hydro-Electricity, and without a strong current in the rivers, the electrical output just isn’t there. And until the snow on the Himalayas starts melting, there won’t be enough electricity. That and the fact that much of the power generated is lost due to old out of date wiring systems and electrical plants. So, we’re down to about 12 hours of power per day on average, most of which is between the hours of 9 PM and 6 AM (not so helpful when you want to go out to a cyber shop!). While there are many things I’ll really appreciate when I get back to the US, clean running water and constant electricity will be 2 of the most appreciated ones!

Living in a country of cell phones and internets shops without water and electricity...

2010-03-04T22:45:00.000-08:00

March 2, 2010
I’m sure you’ve seen reports of technology reaching into third-world countries, spreading into remote villages and infecting everyone with a need to be connected. When I first arrived here, I was surprised at the number of cell phones I saw attached to people’s ears as they walked and the number of internet shops. However, as time has gone on, I’ve begun to realize that people here value those “frivolous” luxuries which connect them to other people far more than modern “necessities” such as washing machines, dish washers, and even regular electricity. That and the fact that they’re way cheap! For instance, I can use the internet at the local shop (or rather, one of the 4 local shops within a 5 minute walk from our house!) for a mere 5 rupees for 15 minutes. So, essentially, I can stay online for an hour for about 25 cents. Which might explain why when I was in the shop the other day, 5 out of the 8 computers had facebook plastered on their screens. I’m not exaggerating! And cell phones are a few dollars to purchase, and then around 2 rupees per call (or something like that!). None of the kids here at home have cell phones (or are supposed to, but that’s another story probably better not told!), but I have set a few of them up with e-mail accounts. They rather enjoy e-mailing other volunteers who have come through the home, and they love the power of getting and sending mail themselves. Of course, that was partly selfish as I’ll want them to e-mail me when I leave, letting me know how things are going here!

But, back to living in a third world country. There are some inconveniences here, but once you get used to them, you can manage just fine. For instance, most people have 2-3 sets of clothes, and thats it. Instead of filling a closet (which they don’t have here) with 50 outfits (which they won’t wear), they spend their money on the internet a few times a week. Or, instead of a washing machine, they burn 500 extra calories a day washing clothes by hand (eliminating the need for a gym membership) and have a cell phone to talk to their relatives in the village. And their relatives in the village don’t have running water (they burn 1000 extra calories a day lugging water from the kuah 10 minutes away all day long, saving on pipe costs and water bills) but they have cell phones to talk to their friends in the glamorous city.

All this to say, we are a very connected society, regardless of socio-economic status or family background! I’m definitely not negating the fact that these people are poor, because they are. And I’m not saying that cell phones and facebook provide true friendships, but they’re a step closer than worrying about losing 10 pounds at the local gym to win 10 extra shallow glances! Here, we manage with what little we have and we enjoy life anyway! It’s made me realize how many extra things American’s pay for to enrich our lives, when what most of the world is looking for is love. Friendship, marriage, children, and ultimately the love of a Savior. And that’s a lot more fulfilling than a washing machine!

Unappreciated Holidays...

2010-03-04T22:44:00.001-08:00

March 2, 2010
I think the thing that’s amazed me the most about Hindu culture are the festivals. I mean, as Christians, we’ve got Christmas (one day) and Easter (one day). Now, if you want to be more specific, there is a whole Christmas season (which I’m sure some believe starts way too early; after not having a Christmas season in the community around me this year though, my belief is that Christmas season should start in May!), but we still only have one Christmas.

When I first arrived, we reached the Hindu holiday of Dashain. It’s a 3 week holiday, for, well, I don’t really know what! It’s a big long break, though, and most of the country shuts down for most of that (not that the country’s open consistently when there’s not a holiday, but still!). Soon after that was Tihar, a 3 day festival of lights. There are “Christmas” lights up everywhere (obviously, they don’t call them “Christmas” lights, but, that’s what they would be in America!) and lamps in windows and fires on the streets (ok, not that unusual, but these are religion specific, not just burning trash!). On the actual day of Tihar, there are fireworks and lights everywhere, and people light these little bowls of oil outside their houses to bring good fortune or something. It kinda reminded me of a mixture of Christmas and July 4th. It was a really pretty holiday.

Then there were a few other holidays here and there over the past 3 months which have shut down the country, but they were relatively quiet and unassuming. Mostly, they consisted of people wandering aimlessly in the streets, looking for anything to occupy themselves! In the last few weeks, though, we’ve had 2 holidays which I am convinced were the creation of someone who had way too much time on their hands and decided to entertain themselves at the cost of others.

The first was Mahashivaratri (try saying that 10 times fast!). So, it goes like this. All the little children gather ropes from their roofs leaving partially dried clothes strewn here and there. They head out to the street with these ropes, and stand on opposite sides of the street while the rope stretches out across the street, sleeping calmly until a vehicle approaches. The children keep their eyes peeled for cars, bikes, anything moving basically, and when they spot their prey, they lift the rope up, effectively closing the road. Then, as the vehicle stops, they charge the poor person in the car 5-10 rupees for the use of the PUBLIC road. Of course, I was not about to pay these Hindu kiddos to use a public road (I know, that’s pocket change, but it’s the principle of the matter! That and the fact that I had 15 kids who would have loved 10 rupees at home, so I wasn’t about to take from them!), so, as I was on the bicycle, I either snuck around the side of a paying car or stopped, dismounted my bike, lifted it over the upraised rope and then stepped over myself. This made some laugh, and some mad. You can’t please them all I suppose ;). I do have to give props to whoever made up this holiday, though. Barricading a public road and charging a toll to pass is a great way to make a lot of money, even if you just charge 10 cents per car! I’ll have to keep that in mind for paying of my student loans when I get back to the US...

The next was slightly harder to avoid. It was called Holi, and it’s known as a festival of color closing the doors on winter and welcoming the fragrance of spring! Sounds innocent enough, right? Well, to make sure everyone’s playing along, for about a week before the actual day of Holi kids swarm the streets armed with water guns, water balloons and eggs. Now, traditionally, if you have paint on your face, you’re safe from these weapons of destruction. Again, I wasn’t going to paint my face in order to walk to the shop, so I chose to take my chances. I was hit with a few water balloons, but I didn’t mind those so much. I mean, they’re really inconvenient when you’re hit on your way to a 3 hour church service (which I was), meaning your clothes are wet for the majority of that time, but I can live with that.

However, some of the kids decide to add “special” surprises to the day and throw balloons filled with colored water (in the spirit of the colors) or with urine and sewer water (someone needs to beat those kids with bamboo rods!). That or eggs. Thankfully, I wasn’t hit with any special balloons, but some boys down the road from us thought it was really funny to wait until someone had passed and then run up at full speed and throw a boiled egg at their unsuspecting back. Unfortunately, I was hit with one of those eggs, square on my spine. I was in so much pain that I couldn’t even turn and yell at the kid. Actually, that was probably a blessing from God, because had I opened my mouth at that moment, I would have most certainly said many things that I would have later regretted! Actually, had I turned around, I might have killed them. But, at that time, I didn’t even want to think about moving my back, so, Rami, who was walking with me, turned and yelled a string of scolding words at them before we hurried home. We got home and a large knot had formed right on the center of my backbone. Fortunately the pain died down to a dull ache (I thought boiled eggs were SQUISHY!), and the next day the knot was mostly gone with a nice bruise in its place. Needless to say, I won’t mind coming home to the holidays I grew up loving!

Raju; take 2!

2010-02-19T23:35:00.001-08:00

February 18, 2010
Remember Raju? I’ve told you about him before. He’s the cutest little 7 year old ever, with big eyes that betray every emotion that crosses his mind. Well, his English has improved exponentially, and we can now carry on a decent conversation (of course, it’s still at the level of a 7 year old, but, comprehendible for both parties!). He’ll run up to me and say, “Sister, Skip-Bo? Uno?!” And I just can’t help but to say “yes!” Or he’ll come up with big pleading eyes and say, “Sister, I need pencil.” Or “I need socks/toothbrush/insert any other necessity that a 7 year old can lose quickly here!” But really, he makes me laugh so much, so I had to share more of him with you!

The other day, I had one of those moments where I should have been the mature 23 year old sister, but I couldn’t help but respond as a 23 year old sister minus the maturity! You see, we were playing Uno in the sitting room, and one of the kids playing with us had to run out for a second. Well, his eyes began to sparkle as he gazed longingly around at all the couches adorning the walls fit for 16 children! Suddenly, he sprang from his crouched Uno position and exploded onto one of the couches and did the most perfect front flip, landing Indian-style on the seat. And I was like, “WHOA!” And I burst out laughing because of the sheer awesomeness and I couldn’t even scold him like I know I should have (you know your mom told you not to jump on the couch!). A huge grin plastered itself onto his tiny face and he did a couple more flips before deciding he better not push his luck. Then he was right back to his crouched position, ready to win another game of Uno. You would have never known that he had moved had you not seen him flipping!

Then, a few days later, he came wandering into the kitchen, looking for entertainment as so many 7 year old boys do, only to find Didi and I peeling and cutting potatoes for the curry. He looked on with mild interest which soon blossomed into intent interest as he found a large knife and began to peel a potato himself. I know, I know, you’re thinking, “what sort of missionary are you letting 7 year olds play with kitchen knives?!” But in that split second decision I had to choose whether to let him serve in his own special way or to take away his joy in helping us by taking the knife. Since the knife was pretty dull anyway, I let him continue to peel the potato. Didi and I watched with smiles on our faces as he peeled the one potato in the time it took us to peel and slice 15. But he helped. And when he finished peeling it, he walked over to me, washed it in the bowl of water and then gently cut it into small pieces and with an ear-to-ear smile put it onto the plate of potatoes for dinner. Totally worth the mild risk involved with letting a 7 year old boy peel a potato with large kitchen knives!

Finally, today after the kids ate I was sitting in the kitchen eating my rice, and in bounded Raju. He hopped onto the counter (another thing I shouldn’t let him do, but he can’t reach anything without climbing on the counter!) and grabbed a bowl. He then proceeded to search through the contents of his pocket until he came up with a couple of rubber bands which he proceeded to strap around the bowl. With amazement and wonder he gazed upon his deceptively simple creation. The end result: a two stringed miniature guitar. He then said “Sister! LOOK!” To which I praised his creative genius as he bounded out of the kitchen, strumming his new instrument. Oh to have the innocent awestruck wonder of a 7 year old!

Pure and Undefiled Religion... to help the orphans in distress...

2010-02-19T23:31:00.000-08:00

February 18, 2010
As a teacher, I have many different personalities in my classroom. In class 5, the top 6 students are all girls who are well behaved and eager to learn and please me. One of these girls, whom I’ll call Alisha, is a small girl with a quiet personality and a shy smile. Left with her friends, though, you’ll hear her laughter dancing in the air as one of the other girls will catch her arm and pull her into whatever game they’re playing in the school yard. Her older brother is much like her- a good student, respectful, hardworking. They are well liked by both students and teachers alike.

On Sunday, I stayed home from school to give my leg one more day to heal and to pick up my X-rays from the hospital, and in the afternoon I walked over to the Cyber shop during our 2 hours of daylight power. On my way, I was surprised to meet up with the girls of class 9, including Rami and Ranjita. Their words all tumbled over one another, making it impossible for me to sort out why they weren’t in school and why they were walking as a pack down the street. Finally, I pieced together their reason, and I felt as though someone had knocked the air out of me. “Alisha’s mom died yesterday and we’re going to give her and her brother support!” I wasn’t sure I had understood correctly, so I asked them to repeat it one more time, with dread filling me as they repeated the same statement.

Astounded, I asked how it had happened. During the nights here it gets very cold, and while most nights the blankets are warm enough, some mornings you wake up shivering from the cold basking your exposed face. Alisha’s mom suffered from low blood pressure, and during the night the cold had caused her blood pressure to drop too low, and she never woke up in the morning. As their dad is who knows where (a common theme of the children here), Alisha slept with her mom each night to keep warm. Waking up in the morning, she turned to awake her mom only to find a cold still body next to her. Crying out and shaking her, she drew her brother into the room who also tried to arouse their mom and called for an ambulance. When they realized that their mother was gone, the tears flowed freely. That same night Alisha’s older brother lit the fire to burn their mother, with just a few relatives joining them.

The girls asked me if I wanted to come with them to Alisha’s house to give support and love, and to be honest, I didn’t. I didn’t know what to say or how to respond or what to do. I made up a thousand reasons not to go in my mind in the seconds that followed, but I knew that I was placed here for such a time as this, and in my weakness, God would pour on His love. So we walked to their relatives home where they were staying, and cautiously approached the house. I think the girls were as unsure as I was in how to show them love when such pain had fallen upon them. Alisha’s brother was outside, and the class 9 boys were huddled around him, hugging him, and just sitting there. It was a pretty beautiful scene.

Alisha didn’t want to come out, but she did when her aunt had her help serve us drinks. I felt horrible. Here we were to love on them, and they insisted on giving us cold sodas. The girls and I tried to refuse, but they just set the drinks at our feet and then walked back inside while we sat with her brother. And all I could do was pray that God brought comfort upon this home, that He would heal the wounds and draw these orphans to Himself.

After a few minutes, the girls and I left. That night, during devotionals, the kids and I talked about what had happened and how we could encourage Alisha and her brother. I think the kids understood better as most have felt the rejection of a father, though only a couple have lost their mothers as well. We talked a lot about death being final, and how important it is to use every opportunity to share Jesus with those around us, as none of us are guaranteed the next minute, much less tomorrow. We all wrote notes in a couple of cards that I had picked up, and I was impressed with how thoughtful the kids were in what they wrote. I guess in a society where death comes much sooner for most than most of the rest of the world, the kids grow up almost expecting pain like this.

Surprising to me, both Alisha and her brother returned to school the next day. I guess some sense of normalcy helps distract us from pain. While a hint of pain etched itself across her face, her smile returned occasionally when the girls dragged her into one of their games. She’s staying with her aunt for now, who has a daughter who’s also in class 5, but her aunt can’t afford to pay for her tuition, so the principal has given her brother and her full scholarships to finish high school. I can’t help but pray every time I see her sitting in my class, alternating between staring out the window and taking notes. She’s still one of my best students and I hope that through this she sees the light of Jesus and feels His peace wash over her. It reminds me of how many children are left as orphans each day throughout the world because of death or abandonment. And I pray that God would pour out His love on each and every one of them, healing the wounds and pains from this world.

Jack and Jill went up the hill, but Jill came down faster!

2010-02-14T01:32:00.000-08:00

February 13, 2010
Once upon a time there was a fair maiden teaching at a school in Kathmandu, Nepal. One sunny day after several days of rain and fog, the staff of this school released their captive students into the wild of Kantipur, a community a mere 45 minutes from the school. On this remote mountainside overlooking Kathmandu valley and the Himalayas the students’ bags erupted with picnic supplies from home- rice, curry, dahl, chilis- all very unusual picnic supplies for this western maiden. The teachers were provided with an excellent lunch of churrah (beaten dry rice), potato and cauliflower curry, chicken, and incredibly spicy “pickle.” A feast fit for, well, teachers on a picnic I suppose!

After eating more than they probably should have, the students quickly headed into the forest-jungle to explore this world so foreign to students held captive in the city most of the year! Following their lead, the four young male instructors from the school invited the maiden to join them on a hike through the forest-jungle in search of a better view of the valley far below. Eager to explore, the maiden jumped at the chance to hike and set out with the others, admiring the beauty and greenness of the land which had just become drunk on the rain of two days.

Enthralled with the beauty of the trees and the birds dancing between them, the maiden gazed up, ignoring the brown of the beaten path beneath her feet. Suddenly, the slick mud beneath her feet decided to move to a new home further down the mountain. With a startled cry, the maiden began to tumble down the mountain, becoming disoriented and frantic. After a few split seconds that felt like an eternity, she stopped abruptly with the help of a sudden connection of her head and knee to two large rocks. After the second of shock passed, a frantic hysteria set in, and the tears streamed down her face, making clean paths through her dirt covered face.

Suddenly, four sets of hands were trying to pull her up, this way and that, and in pain, she pulled back and begged them to let her sit for a few moments before moving, as there was throbbing pain in her elbow, knee, head and hip. She quickly composed herself, reassured that everything still moved and was still attached. The four eager yet shocked knights helped her up the mountain, back to the picnic spot where they attended to her wounds. Feeling very ashamed for ending their adventure early, she begged them to go on without her, but to no avail.

So, two set out to attain pain medicine from a small shop down the mountain a little ways while the others made sure everything did indeed move on its own and asked repeatedly to make sure she didn’t need to go to the hospital. In retrospect, she should have gone, but she was a very stubborn maiden and the only people who could get her to the hospital are her parents and her friend Katie. Besides, while there was some swelling in her knee and arm, they were still working, so, she figured she’d save the money. After about an hour’s worth of good conversation the teachers rounded up their freed children to return them to the captivity of the school.

Returning home that night, the maiden’s Uncle asked if she needed to go to the hospital, but, still stubborn (especially so because there were guests at the home), the maiden insisted that she was ok. However, the next night, the pain had increased substantially, mainly because the bruises had started to really develop and the muscles had become tight in the cool night air. As she finally explained all her injuries to Uncle including two very sore lumps on her head, he insisted that they go to the hospital the next morning to do X-rays.

Now, the maiden wasn’t sure what to expect at the hospital, as she was a little ethnocentric and couldn’t imagine that this hospital would compare to the western hospitals she was accustomed to. And she was right, it didn’t compare, at least in the building part of it. However, the emergency doctor she saw was the most peaceful, careful doctor she’d ever met, and he slowly but confidently examined her injuries one by one. After ensuring there was no brain trauma (no memory loss, no dizzieness, no pain in her brain, etc) and that it was all superficial (her skull only pained when it was touched or when she ate) he moved on to her arm and knee. Both were swollen and bruised, and he was concerned when he gently massaged her kneecap and felt something moving. To make sure it wasn’t anything serious, he ordered X-rays of both her arm and knee, stating that unless the pain in her head increased, there wasn’t anything that could be done for that anyway.

Now, for as gentle the emergency room doctor was, the X-ray technition was the polar opposite, and the maiden was sure that if her arm and knee weren’t broken before, they would be when he finished with her. As she spoke limited Nepali and he spoke limited English, the only thing he could do was move her limbs as he needed them to be. Which in turn caused some pain, to say the least! But, finally, the X-rays were finished, and the doctor looked at them, and assured the maiden that there was no damage that he could see from them. He referred her to visit a specialist the next day to make sure that he wasn’t missing anything on the X-rays. Other than that, he told her to “take rest and drink lots of water” in order to speed the healing process.

Not sure what to expect for the cost, the maiden was amazed to find out that the entire visit (X-rays, doctor’s fees, etc.) cost a mere 850 Rupees. About $11. As someone who was well acquainted with the emergency room her sophomore year of college (she made three visits in one semester, all for very valid reasons at the insistence of her friend Katie), this was an incredibly low fee. One she was very thankful for. And the moral of this story is that if you get hurt, fly to Nepal for care because the airfare may be cheaper than your medical bills in the US. But if you need X-rays, either learn Nepali before going in to see the technician or don’t get X-rays. Your choice. Or, you could not be a klutz and fall off a mountain. That would solve a lot of problems actually. But as the knights said, this is one picnic that the maiden will never forget!

That's the Teacher in Me!

2010-02-09T18:48:00.001-08:00

February 6, 2010
As a teacher in Nepal, I’ve been reprimanded a number of times for not beating my students. As a teacher who will return to America and teach next year, I can’t even imagine beating my students! So, I’ve quickly become a favorite teacher and I’m supposedly the “nicest” of the higher level students, all on the basis that I don’t beat them! Now, we’re not just talking about a beating when you misbehave, but even if you don’t know the answer or are confused by the teacher’s teaching (scary, right?!). So, when I walk into the classroom to teach, all my students breathe a sigh of relief and relax in their desks, because while I expect them to learn, I’m not going to beat them if they don’t instantly understand the material!

Now before you go thinking that I’m a push-over and the kids probably walk all over me, you should know that I’m also known as the strictest teacher in our whole school, the city, and quite possibly all of Nepal! Sound like a contradiction? Yeah, I thought so too the first time they told me that! I managed to earn that name the first 4 days I proctored exams: one day in each classroom!

Here in Nepal, all the students take all the subject exams in a span of 3 days. All the upper level students are mixed into different classrooms to “prevent” cheating (I use the word prevent very loosely, as a collaborative society is clearly rising up in Nepal!). For term exams we have 8 days of testing, one for each subject. For mid terms, though, we have only 3 days of testing, with multiple tests on the same day. Well, I was thoroughly trained by Conroe High School (about 8000 times in the 1.5 years I taught there!) how to actively monitor students while they are testing to ensure that they’re not cheating.

Here we only have one aisle in the room, and there are 2-3 students crammed into the benches vaguely reminding me of pictures of the covered-wagon days in America! And the aisle we do have is about as big as a 10 year old girl, so I don’t do a whole lot of walking back and forth through the room, but I do stand for most of the exam, making sure I can see everyone. Turns out, most of the other teachers sit for the exam. In addition, I don’t allow talking (well, they’re not supposed to talk, but, I guess the other teachers don’t fight the urgent whispering breaking the silence filled with car horns and shouting in the streets!). I can’t handle talking during exams, so, I threatened to cut marks the first day I proctored an exam if the students didn’t stop talking. They didn’t stop talking so I did cut marks (rule number 1 in teaching-never make an empty threat!), and quickly everyone in the school heard all the juicy details of how MY red pen made a nasty little minus five on the top of two students exams. And they got quiet. Real fast.

So, now that I’ve established myself as the strictest teacher, I walk into the classrooms on testing days to a chorus of groans, that make me laugh and quite proud. I may not beat the students, but they sure are quiet when I’m in the room! That said, now that I’ve got a reputation that precedes me, I can relax during the exams and watch the kids. I’ve got a few short stories of the past 3 days of exams that made me really laugh inside!

Picture this: for exams, there are class 6-9 students packed into the same classroom, with ages ranging from 9-10 all the way up to 16-17 depending on when the kids started school. In the front of one classroom, there were three boys packed into a bench, which was a sight in itself. Now, the funny part was that the two outer boys were class 8 and 9 students, who were big boys, especially here in Nepal! The middle one was one of my class 6 boys who might be the smallest of all my students, class 5 included. Basically, he looked like a little flea next to a water buffalo and an elephant. And the whole exam he was battling for his small little pocket of air next to two vortexes that continuously demanded more space! I mean, his feet don’t even reach the ground when he’s sitting on the bench! So he brought his little clipboard and worked through his exams on his lap, giving them the space their size and age demanded!

Then, there were those kids who know absolutely nothing (honestly, I sometimes wonder if I gently blew into one ear would it come flowing right out the other side?!) about their classes and they get their exam and just sit and stare at it. I mean, they bore holes into it with their eyes. As if maybe, just maybe, after paying absolutely no attention to their classes for the last 4 weeks, the paper will magically produce answers for them. Or they stared out the window with their mouth half open, and I was just waiting for a little spittle to start trickling down their vacant faces! Or, my personal favorite, they start SINGING the questions to themselves in a little bird voice until my eyes bore through the tops of their heads and they look up to my laser eyes beneath raised eyebrows and immediately their jaw snaps shut with the speed of a snapping turtle! And that red pen just twirls in my fingers...

There were a number of other humorous incidents (pencils flying across the room in a hurried exchange of lead for ink and pencil boxes crashing to the floor to name just two!), but you get the idea. I’ve started entering the classrooms, laughing at the groans, and reminding them that I’m the strictest teacher once the exam starts, but the nicest one before, so they better get all their talking/shouting/gassing out before the exam starts because after that bell rings, I won’t allow any of it! They laugh at that and take me up on my offer and talk louder than all the other classrooms, but as none of the exams have begun yet, I don’t care one little iota. However, the other teachers frown slightly (I’m sure they thought I had no control during the exam time as well, but the students quickly set them straight as the teachers have asked me about my proctoring “style!”) but in the end they let my students rant and rave, knowing that at the sound of the bell you could hear a pin drop (and usually do hear a pen drop!) in the room! And at the end of the day, I go home satisfied knowing that I’ve earned the title of the nicest yet strictest teacher in the country! Sometimes, the bamboo rod just isn’t as powerful as a red pen :).

Smiling at Kids...

2010-02-01T01:27:00.000-08:00

January 29, 2010
Sometimes the kids’ just make me smile. I mean, kids do funny and stupid things everyday that make you smile and laugh for a moment, but sometimes they’ll say something, and a smile will come from your heart and stay there for weeks. So, here are three tales that made my heart smile!

Tale #1:
One sunny afternoon, Rami, Manisha and I headed out to a children’s expo in the center of Kathmandu. We really didn’t know what to expect, but the principal had given me tickets, so we went! It turns out this expo was in a big mall on the fourth floor. We arrived, went through the Expo, and basically, it was just a lot of vendors trying to sell us their items at “wholesale price! guaranteed!” Well, we made it almost all the way through without spending a dime, when I saw one selling pencils; good pencils. Ones that won’t break every time you touch them! So, I caved in and spend $10 on pencils. Now that might sound like a lot, but I did get 200 pencils, 20 erasers, and 20 sharpeners for that amount. And in a home of 16 kids (counting Joshua and Benjamin), they’ll go fast! Believe me!

Ok, that really had nothing to do with my story, but at least now you know about the children’s expo! So, on our way down the stairs, we saw this woman sweeping the stairs. Since she was in uniform, I’m assuming that’s her job. When Manisha saw her sweeping the steps, she stopped, paused, and then looked the lady in the eye and said “Thank you for serving us!” Flabbergasted, the lady looked at her in surprise, and then a smile broke across her face! And across my face :). You see, over the past 5 months, the kids and I have been learning about being thankful and serving each other. And right there, Manisha showed me that she understood at a level that brought her to thank even a complete stranger! After leaving the mall, I asked her if she knew the lady, and she said that she didn’t. Then, she said, “But she was making things nicer for me, so I figured I should thank her!” A lesson we could all learn every single day!

Tale #2:
I didn’t find out about this until a few days after it happened, so I’m passing on something that was passed on to me from one of the kids. But, I’m pretty sure it’s reputable! So, we were in Gorkha, and the women of the church stayed pretty constantly busy cooking, everyday, all day. The food was excellent, and we needed as much of it as we could get!

Well, one morning, after breakfast, when Asha was taking her plate back to the field to be washed, she stopped and thanked the women for cooking. Again, with confusion, they looked back at her and said, “It’s our job to cook for you!” And Asha told them, “I know, but thank you for cooking for us!” To which they just smiled in happy confusion. Obviously, while Nepali’s are thankful people, they don’t often tell each other so, and this gentle change in the kids is causing some waves :).

Tale #3:
This one turns away from gratitude and moves into understanding God’s Word and the truth in it. To set the stage, one night during devotionals, one of the kids pulled out a Book of Mormon thinking it is another Bible. Well, confused as to where it came from and concerned about the kids’ possession of it, I took it, and told them that we would talk later about why it wasn’t ok (after I could organize the reasons into things that were understandable for 7-16 year olds!). I talked to Uncle about it, and it turns out it was from years before when he was studying other religions in seminary and the kids weren’t even supposed to have it. We’re not sure how they got it!

So, the next night, for devotionals we were on Galatians 1:6-10, where Paul addresses false teachers who preach any Gospel besides that of Jesus Christ. Well, Rami, who is ever quick to pick up on what God’s saying in Scripture questioned, “Sister, is this why you didn’t like that book last night and took it? Does it preach another Gospel?” And I was like, wow! She gets it! So, I broke into a smile and said, “Yes, that’s exactly why I don’t like that book! God’s given us all we need in the Bible. To preach another gospel is not Christianity!” Her faith really inspired me. God’s taught her to understand His Word and to apply it to any situation! Something that I hope God continues to teach me as well! So, while I spend most of my time teaching the kids, there are those moments when I can just sit back, smile, and learn from them!

Church Dedication Service

2010-02-01T01:26:00.000-08:00

January 21, 2010
The Church Dedication Service. Well, as is typical of Nepali church services, the dedication service went for far longer than any other dedication service I’ve ever been to! Everyone was up and going around 8, when we started the morning prayer and worship time. Well, pray and worship we did, until around 11, when the actual service started! The service was supposed to be around 2 hours I think, but sometimes when you get a group of pastors together, they each gravitate toward giving a sermon, and almost 4 hours later, we finally cut the service off! Honestly, there’s not much to write as it was mostly preaching, and I didn’t understand a word of it, so I was a little bored. But the excitement started for me after the service!

We had a big feast of goat and pickle and tons of rice and curry after the service (a great way to entice the locals to come!), and there were several Hindus from the community who came and visited. I had met a girl named Laxmi the day before at our nighttime worship service, but she and her family are Hindus. They had come because someone had visited them that day and had told them they should come that night for the service. They did, and Laxmi immediately attached herself to me. I was probably the first white girl she’d ever seen!

She was around 16 probably, with several younger brothers and sisters in tow! Well, we ate together after the dedication service, and in broken Nepali/English we talked for a couple of hours with her mom, another lady, and several other teenage girls. We talked about school and life and how things are different in America and Nepal. She was pretty upset that I was leaving the next day, so I decided to go out on a limb and give her a Bible. I wrote “To: Laxmi, Love: Anneliese” inside of it. Her eyes lit up, but a quick reprimand from her mother forced her to pass it on to one of the other girls nearby. I later found out that her mother would not allow her to keep a Bible in the house, so, her friend was to take it.

Knowing that she LOVED the songs we sing at church though, I grabbed Monoj and took his small pocket song-book (most Nepali Christians have their own hymnals that are pocket-sized) and wrote the same thing inside the cover, assuring Monoj that upon returning to Kathmandu, I would buy him another one, as that was his “special one”. I gave this to her, and her mom approved, Praise God! Well, I’ve always known that worship is powerful, but now I pray that it would be sharper than a double-edged sword as she reads these Gospel-proclaiming lyrics! I pray that God would continue to blind her mother to the reality that most of these songs have as much Scripture in them as a chapter of the Bible, at least until God opens Laxmi to himself! And as worship tells the story of our Jesus, I pray that Laxmi would see the truth as she reads and sings these songs to herself! One day Jesus will grab ahold of her, and He’ll use whatever it takes to get to her!

Evangelism- Day two. The real trekking begins ;)

2010-01-25T18:57:00.001-08:00

January 20, 2010
Our second day of evangelism was more exhausting than the first. To start, I was still tired from the day before, as all the girls were having a little trouble sleeping at night because of the deep cold seeping through our sleeping bags! And we ended up hiking much farther on the second day than the first. We headed out around 9:30, with a smaller group- Manoj, Ranjib, Rami and I.

We went the same way through the jungle as we did the day before, but we continued further, until we reached a mountain that had sporadic houses here and there. So, we would make huge sine waves on the mountain, climbing up and stopping here and there at homes before climbing another 15-20 minutes to the next house. Up and down and up and down and now over to that mountain, back and forth we went. A piece of advice: if you’re ever going door-to-door through the jungle in the mountains and you see the next house and it looks pretty close, it’s not. Because you can’t just walk straight to it. You have to walk up and around a stream and through the rice paddies and then back down. We split up a couple of times, but Ranjib gave us his cell phone so that we could call him and Monoj if we ever got lost or confused (amazingly, we didn’t!).

Compared to the day before, we found even less interest in the Gospel, but there was one home that stands out to me. There were probably around 8 girls and children sitting around, and one teenage boy with them. From the conversation that ensued, we found out that they were all siblings. Anyway, there weren’t any parents home, so we gave the tracts to them. The older girls fanned through them, and handed them back to me. But the boy sat and began to read it with interest. Suddenly, the girls began to lash into him, scolding him thoroughly (scolding sounds the same in any language ;)!). Well, Rami and I walked off, not to get in between a family feud. As we escaped earshot of the house, Rami explained to me that the girls were scolding their brother because their father wouldn’t allow anything Christian in their house, and would beat him for having it. Needless to say, I was slightly relieved that the parents weren’t home when we visited! But I was more excited that this boy had chosen to take and read the tract, even amidst the scolding and probable beating he would get for it. My heart went out to him, though I don’t know his name or anything else about him. The image of him reading that book about Jesus might be ingrained in my memory forever. And while I don’t know anything about him, God does, and that’s what really matters!

After that, we hiked up and down a couple more mountains, and finally, around 4:30 we were finished. We didn’t get to many houses that day (maybe 20 at the most), but that’s the life of missions in the jungle! All four of us were beyond tired, and we weren’t really up to a 2 hour hike back home. That, and around 6 it gets dark, and walking through the jungles after dark with a white girl was just a bad idea I learned! So, we caught this bus that took us this very round-about way on the worst of “roads” back to the road that the church is on. It was the most painful bus ride I’ve ever been on, but I was also more thankful for it than any other bus ride! Never underestimate the relief of being able to take a bus :).

Evangelism- Day One!

2010-01-25T18:55:00.000-08:00

January 19, 2010
Evangelism Day 1. Several members of the Gorkha church teamed up with us from Kathmandu so that we wouldn’t get lost and so that a local face would be there with us evangelizing. Several members of our group are also originally from Gorkha, so they were also group leaders. Monoj, our church worship leader who is probably a couple of years younger than me, was our group leader. We also had an older auntie from the Gorkha church and a friend of Monoj’s named Ranjib. Rami and I were a pair, and along with Shiva, we completed our group.

We headed out with several Gideon New Testaments in Nepali (when I get home, they’re immediately going on my list of “organizations” to support! their Bibles are floating around all over the place here!) and hundreds of tracts. Monoj warned me that his home was so far away, and he wasn’t sure if I could make it. Shiva added that he was sure it was at least 15 km each way. If ever there was a way to motivate me, telling me you think I can’t do something is the number 1 way to get me to do everything in my power to do it! So, we started out, walking along a well established dirt road, when suddenly we veered off through the rice paddies and into the jungle. We climbed up and stumbled down hills and through creeks and over log bridges! About an hour later we rejoined another road, and walked another 30 minutes or so to “our spot.”

I guess we didn’t want to overwhelm the natives, so we broke into 3 groups: Shiva and the auntie, Monoj and Ranjib, and Rami and I. We would work three “levels” of homes built into the mountain at the same time, regrouping every 15-20 minutes. Rami had never been out evangelizing before, and I knew none of the Nepali necessary to share the Gospel in the jungle! So we made quite the pair. But, as we walked, I prayed that God would work through our broken Gospel and speak directly to their hearts. Most people took the tracts, but that was about it.

However, about halfway through our day, we found ourselves in a village with homes actually right next to each other rather than 5-10 minute hikes apart! Obviously, I caused quite the stir as a white person there is rare (this isn’t exactly a tourist trap!). So, within moments of entering the town, a large crowd of women had gathered around me and were trying to ask me questions, while the men of the town paused their intense cannon-ball game (it’s this big, wooden board game so to speak. people play it all over the place here!) to look on with mild interest. Fortunately, at that point, Shiva and the auntie had joined forces with us, and the Auntie dove right into the Gospel with the authority of a native old-timer.

I just sat on the bench next to the women and took turns holding babies for them and during gaps I would answer their questions to the best of my ability! I felt slightly like a politician?! Not exactly what you’d expect of evangelism, but God will use whatever he wants to draw a crowd, I suppose! So, I had the extremely easy job of entertaining small children who were probably more confused by the white face than they’d ever been in their life! In addition, I got to give out a lot of the Bibles, as they were more than happy to take a gift from a white American. They flipped through it, pausing here and there and mumbling to one another. Finally, we wrapped things up about 20 minutes later, and one of the women insisted that the auntie and I come over for tea. So we did, and it was a nice mid-afternoon refreshment (we don’t eat lunch, remember, and after all that hiking, tea was a nice but small source of calories!).

After finishing our tea, we headed out once more, and hit a few more homes here and there with tracts before dividing up once again. This time, Monoj and Ranjib joined Rami and I while Shiva and the auntie went their separate way. They were going to about 10 more homes spread across the mountain while we were going up to Monoj’s house. So, we started out, and it was quite the hike! After about 30 minutes of climbing, we arrived, and his mother had prepared an afternoon snack for us, which was exactly what we all needed! We each had a plateful of popcorn (not salted, sugared, or any sort of other spices; just plain, white popcorn. I might develop a taste for it before I come home!) with gundruk on the side, the national curry of Nepal! The kids have asked me ever since I arrived what the national curry of America is, and then I have to explain that not only do we not have a national curry, but most Americans have probably never even eaten curry. This amazes them to no end, as we eat it twice a day, 7 days a week, 52 weeks a year. So, gundruk is actually pretty rare in Kathmandu, but basically it’s like dried spinach with a lot of salt and other spices and cooked in a little oil. It’s not actually spinach (we have that all the time in Kathmandu), but it’s like it. It was a great afternoon snack!

To my enjoyment, for dessert I got a long pole of raw sugar cane to eat. Well, I’ve never had sugar cane before, so, they handed me this long very hard pole for me to eat, and I was completely clueless in how to eat it! So, I kind of looked at it, and whispered to Rami, and she didn’t know how to explain it, so I just looked at it intently some more, before Manoj’s family started laughing and his dad came over and basically broke it all down for me. You skin the outside either with a sickle or by peeling it with your hands, and then break it into strips to chew on. Then, you suck all the sugar juice out and spit the rest of it on the ground (there’s no way you could chew it up anymore!). So, my lunch was well balanced: fiber, iron, salt, and sugar! Pretty much all you need in a day (give or take a few vitamins and minerals)!

Well, as it was nearing 3:30 in the afternoon now, we began the trek back, and only stopped for water this time. Up and down, all around, hiking in the setting sun. We finally reached the main road once more, and we were down to a trudging pace at best. Our legs groaned under our weight, creaking like rusty gate hinges in the wind. Finally, about 30 minutes from home, Manoj and Ranjib veered off to go to Ranjib’s house, and Rami and I found a stone wall on a bridge to sit on for a few minutes, mustering up the energy to get up and go on. My entire body felt the battle of “door-to-door” evangelism in the jungle, even though we were only out for about 7 hours! My heart is full of thanks for the missionaries who do this for their entire life, moving from village to village in the jungle, preaching where others may have never heard the Word before! I know that we saw a lot of interest in the Gospel but had no actual bites, but what I really learned from the day was just how much missionaries go through to reach the villages that may have no other method of hearing the Gospel. And that’s a lesson I’ll never forget.

Gorkha, Take 2: Road Trip!

2010-01-22T23:36:00.000-08:00

January 22, 2010
Gorkha, take 2. So my second trip to Gorkha was much more eventful than the first one. Probably because it was 5 days long instead of 1! Or maybe the fact that we were hiking through the jungle to preach the Gospel? Anyway, because I have a lot to sift through from my time there, I’m going to break my trip into 4 parts- On the Road (going and coming), Preaching in the Villages, Preaching in the Jungle, and Celebrating!

So, On the Road. To start, there were several other members of our church who went to Gorkha with us, so, I wasn’t responsible for making sure we were in the right place at the right time! There were 2 older women, 1 girl my age, and 1 young girl who came along. On the boys’ side, there were 7 older men, the youth leader who’s about my age, and 1 boy who came along. With the 8 of us from the children’s home, it made the most sense to charter a Micro-bus for us (basically, a big 15 passenger van, but you always pack way more than 15 people inside!). So, we loaded all our bags and guitars and speakers and boxes of tracts and Bibles (it’s a good thing we chartered a bus!) and we packed in the remaining seats. And off we went!

Now, if you’ve ever been on a youth trip of any sort (school, church, whatever), imagine that. We start out with lots of shouting and singing and kids bouncing all over the van, while the adults in the front try to ignore us in the back. Of course, in a van that’s a lot harder! I happened to bring a big bag of bubble gum with me (thanks so my Grandaddy and Sandra!), and I doled it out with speed and efficiency. Well, if you chew bubble gum, you have to blow (or inhale, the kids are teaching me to make inverted bubbles that pop without ever opening your mouth! cool, huh?!) bubbles. I mean, that’s why it’s called BUBBLE GUM! Well, I guess that after 15 minutes of “pop, Pop Pop, POP POP POP!” even the most patient of grown-ups might get annoyed (I would not consider myself an adult in this instance. well, really in any instance. I usually feel like an overgrown kid. maybe it’s living with 14 of them!). Well, finally one of the men in the front turned around and told us he better not hear any more popping! To which, we all acted appropriately remorseful, but inside, we were laughing because it was pretty funny (remind me to read this before going on roadtrips when I have my own kids; I might rethink the humor in it then!). So, we stopped the gum popping, for the most part ;).

About 2 hours into the seven hour trip, we stopped to take a short break. Well, it was amazing. Vendors flocked to the van, selling oranges, dried coconut, chow-na-chapote (basically, rice krispie things mixed with tomato sauce and vinegar, fresh chopped onion, green chiles, boiled potato pieces, and nuts mixed in. it’s AMAZING! totally unsanitary- I won’t tell you how it’s made and served- but after you get your mind over the germs you’re ingesting, you devour it with a passion! it’s probably my favorite snack food here!) and bagged chips with water. And just like American teenagers, the money flies as they buy up as much food as they can! Only, in this case, it only takes about 50 cents for everyone to have more than enough. To put it in perspective, you can buy a liter bottle of water, 1 “serving” of chow-na-chapote, 1/8 of a dried coconut, and an orange for 50 cents. The best rest stop EVER!

After we’re all fat and happy, the kids sprawl all over each other, and the van quiets as most of us drift in and out of Never-never-land. Of course, there’s the occasional yelp when the bus hits a big pothole and all of us clank heads and knees, but besides that, it’s pretty quiet. A great time to just enjoy the beauty swirling around you! So this goes on for about 2 more hours. Then, we stop again.

At this stop, I realize we’re still a ways from the church in Gorkha, but we’re unloading all our baggage and boxes and instruments and whatever else we could find off the bus, and I’m beginning to grow concerned that we’re about to hike the rest of the way with all this junk! But, to my great joy, a vehicle pulls up, and we begin to pile everything on top of it while kids pile into it. Now, picture the front of a hummer with the bed of a truck, covered like a covered wagon from that Oregon Trail computer game (you know the one where everyone just bought ammunition and nothing else so you could shoot all the little animated birds and deer!) using a thick iron cage-like structure with a thick tarp over it and a huge place for luggage on top. A pretty cool, sturdy looking ride.

Well, most of the people piled in, and I was still helping load some of the luggage with the guys, and we realized that we weren’t all going to fit in the canvassed seat area. So, the youth leader who was on top already loading luggage, leaned over and asked me if I wanted to ride on top. I immediately said yes and vaulted up to the top. Now, we rode on the roof of the actual truck part, not on the canvassed part. There was this iron bed on top of it for other luggage or people if you need it. A minute or two later Laxman came bounding up, grinning like a 3 year old with his favorite lollipop! He had gladly given up his seat to one of the women for the chance to ride on top. So, one other man clambered up, and a few of the older men stayed behind to meet up with us the next morning.

If you ever have the chance to ride on top of a hummer-truck through the jungle and in rivers, you should totally do it, if for no other reason than the awesome photo opportunities! You’re sitting about 6 and a half feet in the air, giving a great view of all the area around you! Be warned though, you will be sore after it! There were a few times when I felt like I was about to fall off due to huge potholes that we might have taken a little too fast! Once Laxman was sure I was going to fall, and he yelled “SISTER!” but I was ok :). Just hold on tight! So, in the gaps of the jungle, we had a fantastic view of the taller Himalayas (it still amazes me that I can say that I am in the Himalayas!) and this river and some waterfalls. Pretty awesome ride!

Well, the trip home was all on one chartered bus, which was a little nicer than the van. Still a long trip, but it was nice to be on the same vehicle the whole way. However, I was as concerned as I’ve ever been in my life on the trip home. It wasn’t the driving or potholes or the fact that we could fall off a cliff at any given moment if two other vans came barreling around a corner blindly. It was the fact that halfway through the trip, suddenly in the road in front of us there appeared a group of 8-10 men holding a Maoist flag, blocking our way. So, we stopped, and they immediately climbed on. They looked around at us, did a double take at me, said something to the bus driver’s helper, and then got off the bus. The entire event probably took all of 15 seconds max (I didn’t even have time to get a good prayer in!), but it felt like an eternity. You could have heard a pin drop in that moment they climbed on. I have no idea what they said, or if we paid them the “donation” (forced donation, if you could even call it that.) they probably wanted, or why they were there. But I do know that my heart rate skyrocketed as if I had just run a mile at a dead sprint. I’ve read so much about them in the papers, and even have seen them in the roads during strikes, but these men weren’t just men sitting in the street because they wanted a day off of work. They meant business. I guess it made a “real” situation a whole lot more real to me. Needless to say, I’m glad I’ll be sticking around Kathmandu for the next few weeks!

Nevertheless, it was a good road trip home, with nothing else to write home about. Tomorrow I should ask the kids what the Maoists said. I was too flustered at the time to say anything after they got off. Know that while I’m sure Satan was intending that for evil, I fully felt the presence of God and His angels watching over us quickly disperse the enemy! I probably won’t ever take another uneventful road trip for granted!

Hey, let's make this room bigger. TODAY!

2010-01-22T23:35:00.000-08:00

January 13, 2010
Today was just any other day in Nepal. Ok, not really. Not at all in fact. Except for the fact that I had no idea what to expect when the day started! Well, after breakfast, we began moving Uncle’s office up two flights of stairs to the third floor so that we could expand the sitting room, which was far too small for everyone! Imagine 20+ people sitting in a room that only fits 3 chairs and one couch. A tight squeeze! So, we doubled the size by knocking out the wall between the office and the sitting room. Now, thankfully, this wasn’t a typical Nepali wall of solid cement. Rather, it was a wooden wall added a couple years ago when Uncle moved his office downstairs. We pried it this way and that, pulling off siding until finally the frame was ready to come out.

We reuse everything here (I’ll be very eco-friendly when I come home!), so Asha, Manisha and I started pulling the hundreds of nails out of the siding, with Manisha pounding them on their point to drive them backwards, me pulling the pounded nails out by pliers, and Asha collecting the rusty, sharp collection with a magnet we found! We had a great assembly line going; we put the boys to shame!

As soon as we finished, we had a new job ready and waiting- to paint all the dirty spots in the sitting room, along with the white lines where the way once was. Well, about halfway through painting, Uncle decided we needed to patch the holes the nails left with cement, so I handed off my brush to Asha and Laxman and I began to fill holes with cement filler, our hands, and a scrap of wood! Quite the experience :).

After cementing, we were back to painting, and we finished the job not too long later. Which meant that we were now ready to wash all of the curtains for the sitting room, all 12 of them, by hand. We pulled water and rub-a-dub-dubbed them, bubbles flying here and there as we bathed them in sudsy water. Then, Ranjita (who happened to stop by for the day; a great day to visit!) began to soap them all and scrub them thoroughly. After she finished, Manisha and I proceeded to roll up our pants to mid calf so that we could use our feet to dance the dirt right out of them (don’t worry, we washed our feet first!). Step here, two hops there, a right foot front with a left foot back. To my amazement, bubbles just kept coming. There were about 4 times I thought we were finished, and we just kept going! Finally, they were ready to rinse, so we kept doing our little dance, adding water to the buckets to rinse. The most unusual rinse cycle I’ve ever seen! We finally got them clean about 2 hours later, our muscles moaning, skin shriveled, feet freezing.

Meanwhile, Isha reminded me like the kids in the Von Trap family from the Sound of Music when they’re hanging out of the trees over the street. She was standing on the window ledges, hanging outward, washing all the windows. After she finished one, she’d swing right over to the next one, and so on until they were all sparkling.

Finally it was time to move the couches from my room downstairs. We moved them down, and the completed sitting room looked amazing! I was floored at how nice it looked with more space. The kids and I collapsed into the awaiting chairs, basking in the sunlight, reveling in a moment of stillness. That might have been about as tired as my muscles have been in a very long time! And tomorrow, we get to wash the rugs :)...

Darshan, the compassionate body builder!

2010-01-13T00:20:00.001-08:00

January 12, 2010
Darshan is one of those kids who just wants to please you. In whatever he does, he’ll look up at me with his big, dark eyes, asking for approval without a word. He’ll jump to help me with just about anything! While he’s the second youngest of all the children, he’s one of the most helpful, from sweeping the dining hall to pulling water for me!

He’s also attached to Raju at the hip, and they do most everything together! I’ll often find them playing cars together, playing Uno, or my personal favorite is when they enlist another child to hold my camera and video tape them doing short dramas. HILARIOUS! Even with them all in Nepali, their facial expressions are amazing! I was laughing so hard at one of them that tears were streaming down my face! I’ve often found myself going through pictures, and suddenly there’s a video that I didn’t take, containing them dancing around the boys room with stuffed animals (really, dancing! as in, waltzing!), practicing Karate on each other, or doing these short plays for me. When I get home, I’ll make one video of them and upload it so you can have the full experience!

Darshan’s a great student in school, and is 4th in his class. He works incredibly hard and likes to be the best at whatever he does! He’s bigger than the other kids at home in terms of his frame, and I imagine that had he grown up in America, he would have been a lineman! I’ve told him that since he’s bigger, he’s also stronger, and in just a few years will put all the other boys to shame in terms of strength!

He’s one of those kids who will walk down the street and out of the blue will ask me how big God is. Or, where God lives. Or any number of other theological questions that are hard for my mind to grasp! His heart beats for God though, and he loves singing to praise Him! He’s not afraid to sing at the top of his lungs praising his King, and he doesn’t mind giving all he has to worship his Savior! In Sunday School, he’s that kid who will catch when you leave out a detail, and as soon as you’re finished will ask you about it. You know, those hard parts of Bible stories that we skim over because we don’t really understand the why behind them, and we sure don’t know how to explain them to a bunch of children! But he’s the one who will ask, forcing you to dig deeper :).

Darshan wants to be a missionary doctor when he grows up, and I could totally see him doing that! His heart for people is so big, and tying physical health into spiritual health is perfect for him! He also has a mind that can grasp the expanse of medicine, and I hope that one day I hear that he is indeed a missionary doctor, ministering to the poor and lost in the rural areas of Nepal! I can’t think of anyone better to do that job!

Suita, my writer!

2010-01-13T00:19:00.000-08:00

January 12, 2010
Sunita is the oldest of the girls, though Isha is the one who has the personality of an oldest child (trust me, I know... being an oldest child myself, I know the stress of wanting everything done right and perhaps maintaining a bossy personality to ensure that it is done correctly!). So, Sunita usually steps back, but occasionally, she’ll jump in and we’ll have a conflict of which way is better! But more often, Sunita lets Isha go and just watches from the sidelines!

If Isha has my “bossy” personality (I still don’t like to claim that title, though I know it’s true!), then Sunita has my writer’s personality. She’s gone through I don’t know how many diaries/journals since I arrived, and loves to write in them during church, jotting down notes here and there. She always seems to have a journal of some sort on her and is equipped with a pen to write out her emotions as she’s one of the girls least likely to show her feelings.

Sunita struggles with school, but that could also be because she’s skipped grades to catch up with the kids her age, so her foundation is even weaker than most kids. However, she’s quick to ask for help, and her mind tends to understand, but there’s so much that she just can’t remember it all. Most the time she prefers to study on her own, with her independence driving her until she decides that she has to ask for help. If you walk into our kitchen after school, there’s a 95% chance she’ll be camped at the kitchen table studying while intermittently helping Didi with the cooking!

Her mom lives nearby in Kathmandu, so she goes home more than the other kids. She loves spending time with her mom whenever possible! At church, she helps lead worship, and has a great voice! She often does our special songs on Saturdays, and she’s very involved with the youth group. She also is a fantastic dancer, and dances at almost all of our special programs for church or the children’s home! It’s a lot of fun watching her dance the traditional Nepali dances :).

While it took me awhile to get to know Sunita, she and I have a bond now built on laughter and trust and I really feel like I know her well. I don’t know all of her story (though I hope to hear it before I leave!), but I know her heart, and that’s where our friendship is built! We can just sit and talk about nothing for 30 minutes without even realizing how much time has passed. Or we sit and make cards for our friends together, writing novels to our audience of one. I cherish my time with her, and pray that God takes her far in life, wherever that may be!

Food for Thought...

2010-01-13T00:18:00.000-08:00

January 11, 2010
Sometimes you just have to step back and laugh. Really laugh. Not just a short little chuckle when someone trips on the sidewalk (I know, I’m heartless, but 90% of the time I’m the one who tripped, so it’s ok!), but a gut wrenching laugh that makes you half cry! So, with less kids home for the break (we’ve currently got Laxman, Isha, Asha, and Manisha here), there’s more time to step back and just laugh and relax with the kids!

Story 1. *This story contains bodily functions humor, and if that offends you, I’m sorry from the start and you might not want to read this one!

Once upon a time, there were four little children (ok, not so little) and one big sister home alone for the night. Their Auntie and Uncle had gone out for the evening, meaning they were on their own for dinner and the rest of the evening. Well, life started out quite fun with Sister making stir fry for them to eat for dinner. Everything was great, and Isha was ever so helpful and made the rice. Suddenly, with a loud hiss, water erupted from the pressure cooker lid, causing the flames of the gas burner to flare and then die with style! Shrieking ensued, with the children and Sister frantically trying to figure out what went wrong. Finally, they decided the lid was not on correctly. Amazingly, the rice cooked fine.

As they served dinner, in true Nepali fashion, the power went out, as it does daily. Usually the power is out for 7-8 hours during the day, broken into 2-3 hour chunks. However, there doesn’t seem to be any pattern as to when or for how long it will go, so it’s always one of those nice little surprises that life gives you each day! Sorry, back to the children. Well, they proceeded to light candles and ate a tasty stir fry dinner by candle light in about 4 minutes flat (they eat really fast. it’s a curse of living with 15 kids and fighting for the seconds that may be left!). Then, they tidied the kitchen, cleaning away all the crumbs and leftovers for the chickens so that the mice wouldn’t be able to find any munchies during their midnight stroll through the kitchen (they often leave “evidence” that they’ve visited on the counters; the day I actually see one, I’m not sure what I’ll actually do. Probably scream and scrunch my toes like I do when I’m scared out of my wits!)!

Because of the vast darkness encompassing the home, the 4 little children and Sister decided to camp out in the sitting room until the power came back on or Uncle and Auntie returned, whichever came first. So, they gathered the candles and made their way into the sitting room, shutting the door on the rest of the darkened home. Sister has an AMAZING mom who sends her all sorts of fun things to share with the children, including a gingerbread house kit, complete with several types of frosting and sprinkles. Making a house to just look at it seemed like a waste in a society where food is more treasured (especially if it isn’t rice!), so, Sister adapted and gave each child a piece of the house to decorate and eat (she tried the gingerbread first to make sure it was edible, and it was, and tasted delicious!).

In awed confusion, the children watched Sister spread a layer of frosting and then create designs with sprinkles. As they sampled the frosting and sprinkles and realized they were merely solid forms of sugar, smiles spread across their faces and they dove in with gusto! And their creations were beautiful and I’m sure Auntie and Uncle would have been appalled at the amount of sugar consumed. About halfway through, though, the loudest “bbrrrruuuummmmmmppppphhhh” vibrated the entire room. Sprinkles flew as the children dove away from the child suffering the after-effects of eating too much rice (this is a common occurrence; usually, though, they hide it better)! The room resounded with laughter turned to tears as they all laughed until their sides hurt, burying their noses inside their shirts and hoping that the candles would burn off the excess methane quickly! And the moral of the story is: don’t eat too much rice at once; others will surely know if you do!

Story 2:
Have you ever had Twizzlers? You know, they’re long licorice strips, which now come in a rainbow of flavors and have a hole down the middle making them the perfect candy straw! Well, I gave some to the girls to eat one afternoon, and they weren’t too impressed with them until they realized they could use them as a “pipe” (that’s Nepali for straw). Then, they ran to get glasses of water to drink through their “pipes.”

If you’ve ever done this, you know the Twizzlers begin to absorb whatever liquid they’re submerged in and turn to a soggy mush after awhile. Well, the girls didn’t like the taste of them too much before they used them as straws, and they really didn’t like them afterwards, so we decided to feed them to Dolly, our dog (don’t worry, the only food Dolly ever eats is human food, so it was all good!). Well, Dolly loved them, and chewed and chewed on them, gnawing here and there on them, savoring each one! Which was rather humorous in itself!

But, she lost one without us knowing it, and it was left out on the ground all the cold night long, hardening as the air sucked the water right out of it! As any good boy would do, Laxman went out the next morning and swept all the grounds, and found this strange looking blue tube on the ground. As he thought about it, it dawned on him what this must be, and he came running in the kitchen looking for scissors. Fortunately, at that very moment, I was in the kitchen helping Asha make pancakes, and I asked Laxman what he was doing. “Sister, it’s those things we put in the walls so we can screw stuff into them! And it’s so long so I’m cutting it to make lots of them so I can use them!” The girls, realizing what Laxman was holding, burst into laughter as I tried to control myself long enough to explain that that indeed was NOT for using in walls or any other construction, but was candy that Dolly rejected.

In confusion, he looked at it, and then back at me to make sure I was telling him the truth. When he realized I was indeed serious, he began to laugh at the fact that he was about to drive Twizzlers into the wall as homes for whatever screws he could scrounge up! Moral of the story: make sure your dog eats all its Twizzlers or they may end up holding screws in your walls!

Manisha... she's got spirit!

2010-01-10T20:23:00.001-08:00

January 10, 2010
Manisha. You’ve met her before in the story about using ink to dye her hair black. And that would be an incredibly great picture of her. She’s the one who will come up with the most unusual solutions to problems and have no qualms about potential failures! She’s also the one who is the first to apologize to me if she thinks she’s done anything to hurt me. She apologized to me yesterday for giving the English newspaper to the volunteer who’s stayed in our home for the last 4 days before giving it to me! I quickly informed her that I didn’t care when I got the newspaper as long as it was still readable when I got it!

She loves walking around with me and likes to know about everything. We’ll see something unusual in the street, and she’ll immediately ask why. It’s that child’s curiosity in the body of a teenager! She’s in class 6, meaning that I’m her math teacher. And I can tell you that she studied harder than any of my other home students for her exam last term! After she finished reviewing the 100+ problems I had assigned, she went back through every single lesson practicing problems and occasionally asking me how to do a problem and why. We made it through the practice, and her test reflected the fruits of her studies- she went from failing math to a B! I was so impressed with her incredibly hard work!

She’s from Gorkha and lives with her mom there when she goes home. Her mother came to our anniversary program, and I could tell that Manisha reflects her mom in so many ways, from her smile to her bright laughter! She loves to solve problems herself, but will allow others to help her pick up the pieces when her solutions go awry :). She hates letting me work, and when I first got here she would always come take the dishes from me or the wash from me or whatever else I was doing and say, “Sister, I’ll do it!” She’s learned to make pancakes from me, and does a pretty good job, though she likes a little more oil than I do (the Nepali in her!).

She’s a spirited girl who will make her voice known if she disagrees with something. She doesn’t mince words, and she’s quick to correct the other kids. But she is also incredibly quick to forgive! If someone wrongs her, she lights into them, and then it’s over. No nursed grudges, no lingering anger. And the other kids appreciate that! She brings so much life to this home :).

It's gettin' hot in here!

2010-01-10T20:22:00.001-08:00

January 10, 2010
Life has slowed down here at the home with most of the children going home for our winter vacation. I should be traveling to Gorkha with some of the children next week for an outreach project and church dedication, but I don’t count on anything until it happens! In the absence of 10 of the kids, I’ve become a little more creative in the kitchen as we make rice much later now, and it’s just too hard to go from 7 till 12 every day without eating anything for breakfast!

So, my first experiment in the kitchen was sweet bread, which is basically like sweet tortillas that I make with a layer of cinnamon sugar and finely chopped almonds in the middle. It didn’t turn out exactly as I had planned (what things do?!) but after a few tries it was edible and the kids thought it was quite tasty! I don’t think they’d ever had sweet bread before! However, in true Nepali form, they decided it needed “MORE OIL!” so it ended up being more like a fried sopapilla without the puffyness! It was good enough to make again though, and the second time was much smoother and there was much less waste!

Then, we decided to venture into the realm of pancakes! They had definitely never had pancakes before, so introducing them was a lot of fun. All the kids still at home had advice for me to improve them, before they’d even tasted them! “Sister, don’t do it that way,” “you need more oil,” “turn up the gas, the flame’s too little,” and so much more! Finally, I looked at them and told them that I was making the pancakes and they were welcome to help, but they were not allowed to give advice. Well, after oiling the pan for the first pancake, to their panicked dismay I refused to let them put more oil in the pan, and to their amazement it didn’t stick, as the cast iron flatbread pan is very smooth! Well, they quickly realized that these are way more fun to make than flatbread (roti) as they get to “flip” the cakes and if they want to they can make designs with the batter! Our best designs so far are a Mickey Mouse head and flowers. They love them, and I love that they’re so easy :).

Finally, I made spaghetti for them one night, and it was quite the event. Rami and I went shopping for vegetables to put in the sauce, and in my American ignorance, I tried to only buy 3 chili peppers. Well, the shopkeeper burst out laughing and informed me that I couldn’t buy that many peppers. Their total cost would be less than a rupee (basically, less than a penny)! So, the smallest amount I could buy was 5 Rupees worth (it was the smallest balancing weight he had) and we ended up with over 50 chilis. Not that it mattered, because unknown to me, Rami chopped up 15 of them and put them in the sauce. Needless to say, it was the spiciest sauce I’ve ever had! Delicious, but so so hot! The kids loved it though, so we had it again a few days later for afternoon “snack.”

In my time in the kitchen, I’ve also started learning how to make curry. Not so difficult, but I don’t know what a lot of the spices are. In addition, I’ve never seen anyone use more green chilis than they do here, and I’ve seen some New Mexicans who love their green chili! But here we bring the green chili love to a whole new level! There are times I’m literally pouring sweat after eating due to the heat in the chili... it’s a good thing I love spicy food! I figure I’ll learn enough to make a least one Nepali dish while I’m here, and Manisha and Laxman already know how to make pancakes and I’m sure they’ll keep making them! It’s what we call teachers call collaborative learning :).

Painful Love...

2010-01-08T23:48:00.000-08:00

January 6, 2010
For about a week and a half I’ve been wrestling with whether or not to write about one of the hardest things for me since arriving here. I haven’t written much about rough days mainly because I usually write 1-2 days after the event occurred, and at that point, I don’t want to think about the rough day again or it no longer seems like a big deal. However, this time, the pain was deep enough to share, on an anonymous basis. I don’t want to share this child’s identity because, well, if it were me I wouldn’t want my mistakes broadcast to the world. But since the waves caused by this have changed the dynamics of our home, I figured you should know about it, at least from a bird’s eye view.

I haven’t mentioned this before, but over my time here, I’ve had a few things “disappear” from my room. Nothing major, but enough for me to notice things are gone each time. At first I thought I had just misplaced the items, and perhaps some I did, but there were some that I knew exactly where they were and the next time I came into my room they were gone. Well, Uncle told me to keep my room locked at all times because of this, and I had no idea who to suspect, and it hurt me so much that I couldn’t trust any of the kids to come into my room since I had no idea who was taking things.

Christmas day, this climaxed with a cell phone being stolen at church. Now, at the time we had no idea one of our kids was involved, but in the ensuing chaos tumbling through the next few days, we came to the knowledge that one of our kids was involved. Well, actually, the mastermind behind the elaborate scheme, which was a way to rectify something else they had taken in the past from someone outside the home. Funny how sin always drags us deeper and deeper to cover our tracks.

After finding out who was responsible, Uncle had the tough job of deciding what to do. As this wasn’t the only thing this person had taken, and many chances had been given even before I arrived, he finally came to the decision that this child needed to move back home with their mother. I think it might have been the hardest example of love that I’ve ever been part of. As this was one of the older children, they were fully conscious that what they were doing was wrong, and Uncle realized that having the older children doing things like that will only teach the younger kids to do the same in time and will only escalate. So, this child moved home the next day after Uncle met with their mom to explain what all had happened with a full confession from the child.

Even though this child will live at home now, Uncle will still provide for their school fees so that they can finish school as long as they keep their grades up. And if we see a change in their heart, Uncle’s willing to consider letting them come back here to live after a few months. I guess that while it was really hard, it was a huge learning lesson for the kids still here. We talked for a long time the other night about how real love isn’t letting us do whatever we want to do, but rather draws us nearer to God, the true source of love. And if sin is standing in the way, then allowing that sin to continue to grow is not love as it pushes us farther and farther from the only source of love, Jesus himself. But in that, there is grace, and Jesus chooses to forgive us and has already forgiven us, but as a Father he will discipline us when we walk away. I think that the kids here have a better grasp of God’s love in discipline now and a more real understanding of the darkness of sin.

I’m still struggling to process my emotions over this, as I found out about most of it after the fact and it felt kind of like a landslide that I was caught in and was powerless to help. I fully believe that Uncle made the right decision in sending this child home and I pray that God changes this child’s heart but it is hard knowing that many of them don’t have the same Christian influences at home, so the battle is even harder there. Not that a rough background is an excuse for anyone’s sin, especially the older kids who have been here for a long time, but it’s a little easier to understand their actions when you think about where these kids have come from. It’s sad, though, because it’s made me think twice about trusting any of the kids, but as one of the other kids said, “at some point we have to just trust each other.” Marvelous wisdom from a young teenager! So, when you go to bed tonight, pray that God would move here in the wake of things and that his Holy Spirit would be alive and active in convicting us when we go astray. Because when we no longer wage battle against sin and don’t feel that gentle stir urging us to do right, well, that’s when we’re in serious trouble...

*It's been a few days since I wrote this, and I've seen this child at church a few times, and we got to talk about this incident and it helped heal some of the relationship there. Hopefully as God continues to move, that trust can grow again as well!

It's for the CHILDREN!

2010-01-06T00:44:00.000-08:00

January 4, 2010
I really can’t believe I just typed 2010. It seems like just yesterday I was awestruck with the fact that the date started with a 20 instead of a 19! Whoa. Anyway, back to your previously scheduled program. So, once again Uncle left home, this time with Auntie and their two boys. They went to Ghorka and Chitwan and were gone from Sat afternoon till Wednesday afternoon. So, Didi and I stayed with the kiddos, and one of the deacons from church has stayed here every night.

Monday, the call came. The one that I always look forward to. The only time the kids ever yell, “SISTER! TELEPHONE!” Then I know. Before I even pick up the receiver. And that nice lady’s voice floats over the line, “You have a notice of a package at customs. You need to come pick up the form and go to the general post office to claim it. Thank you!” This time, it was a little different. “You have FOUR notices of packages at customs!” YESSSSS!

New Life Church in Spring, TX sent Christmas gifts for the kids, one box of Bibles (with the kids names embossed on the front of 17 DIFFERENT Bibles, how awesome is that? in a home of 17 kids, it’s VERY awesome!) and three boxes of other gifts. Now, the Bibles arrived first, about a week ago, and they went straight to our normal post office, which was quite the surprise when I got to the post office on the bike and the lady drags out this HUGE box in a big white bag and says “Here. Take it.” And I realize that I now have to lug this box and the bike back up the 20 minute ride home. Well, walking the bike with one hand while dragging the box with the other was out of the question, so finally I managed to get on the bike, resting the box between my forearms and knees, trying to keep it totally balanced as to not throw off my own balance! After much huffing and puffing and only one near death experience (never play chicken with a car, even if they are driving on your side of the road, especially when you have a big box in your lap!), I made it home. And the children were sooooo excited to have their very own English Bible with their names on them... pretty awesome!

OK, back to January 4. After school, Rami, Prabin and I headed to the post office to grab the notices. Unfortunately, since Uncle wasn’t here, I didn’t have a way to get a letter from him to claim them, so I was praying that at least one would be from my mom so that it would have my name posted all over it! Well, we hiked down that hill that I had huffed and puffed up just the week before and picked up the notices. Then it was off to the general post office. We took a micro-bus, which is basically a really big van with about 40 people packed into it. A very cheap, very interesting way to travel.

So, we got to the post office, and I gave them the notices, and the lady was like, “Are you Krishna? Are you Nepal Children’s Welfare Association? Why doesn’t your passport match? Who are you?” So, I attempted to explain that I work in a children’s home (always good to play the “I work with the poor Nepali children, would you deny them their Christmas presents?!” card. it usually works.) and Uncle was out of town and one of the packages was from my mom and would have my name all over it. So, she walked us back to the store room for packages. And now I know why sometimes it takes me weeks to get notices- I’m surprised more packages haven’t been lost!

It was a jungle of a disorganized mess, enough to make a hyper-organized person want to jump off a bridge. So, we began searching for the packages, which thankfully have numbers scribbled on their sides corresponding to the notices. Well, we found one from my mom, and sure enough, my name was pasted all over the front of it. Which was enough for the man working back there, but two other officials had to come back and OK the transaction. It helped that my mom’s name was on the package and I was able to say, “Look, miro ama!” which means “my mom!”

So, then we hunted for the other 4 packages. Oh wait, did I say 4? Why yes I did. One of the notices had 2 packages listed on it, so, we had a total of 5 packages to claim. Well, we found another one from my mom, sent about a month before the first one we found (funny how that works here...), and then we found the one’s from New Life. Well, Rami found one, and the kind man found the other two. I think he was amused by the white American in the Nepali Kotessera with two orphan children in tow. I seem to have that affect on people! Back to the packages- they were big boxes. So, me, two kids, three BIG boxes, two smaller ones. All heavy!

Well, I do the Customs office dance (I have it memorized now), and get a signature here, pay a few rupees there, and then comes the moment of truth- the moment the man takes the knife and plunges it in to open them and make sure everything’s ok. The first two from my mom are just “chocolate” as they call anything edible that they don’t recognize. Then, the other three are filled with the wrapped gifts. And I’m afraid that he’s going to make us unwrap all the presents, but he looks at the two kids standing there with HUGE eyes, gaping at these boxes filled with gifts for them, and he chuckles and leaves it. And charges me a whole 90 rupees per box, meaning a little over a dollar for each one! WAY cheap compared to past trips!

We head out after emptying one of my mom’s packages into my backpack, sagging under the weight of love from Texas! I knew there was no way we were getting on a Micro-bus with four boxes and an exploding backpack, so we hailed a Taxi. And I feared how much it was going to cost, and the kids warned me that it was expensive. But we got one, and to my delight, it was a mere 250 rupees, just under $4. Definitely manageable! We pack in, and I’m pretty sure the ride home was scarier than riding uphill with a box full of Bibles! We narrowly missed crushing a motorcycle with tires screaming and rubber burning as he hit the brakes! Then, we danced around a Micro-bus, and I’m still not sure we didn’t leave some paint as a memory for them.

When we finally made it home, the kids came running out to “help” with the packages, and they had the joy of Christmas in January! They loved their gifts, and this time I made them open them one by one so that there was a little more order to the chaos! I think they had as much fun watching each other open presents as they did opening their own presents! It was just another unforgettable day!

A New Years Prayer...

2010-01-01T23:56:00.000-08:00

December 31, 2009
New Year’s Eve. The close of one year, the start of a new chapter. But really, it’s just one more day... I hadn’t even thought of a New Year’s resolution! We went to church right after dinner for the service, bundled in layer upon layer of clothes to fight off the bone-creaking cold seeping through the night air. I had on 3 long sleeved shirts with my hoodie over them, two pairs of pants (and I should have worn 3!), and 2 pairs of socks! That topped with a scarf wrapped tightly around my neck and over my ears, covering my mouth and nose, leaving only my eyes and forehead showing. I probably looked like some sort of strange Middle Eastern snow man!

Anyway, so, we started by singing for an hour or so, thanking God for all that He’s done in 2009 and all that He’s going to do in 2010! We sang some songs I knew, and a lot I didn’t, and then we did a short lesson over the Passover and God giving the Israelites a new start as he led them out of Egypt. God led them by day and by night, through obedience and disobedience. It was a pretty cool passage to ring in the New Years, especially since that’s what I read in the morning on my own as well! I love when God does that :).

Then, they played some Nepali Christian film which I probably could have followed if I had tried to, but I’ve been going through “A Ragamuffin Gospel” by Brennan Manning and was smart enough to bring it with me to read during the movie. And as I read, I discovered what I want for this year. I want to live by grace. I know, that sounds like a cop-out, but let me explain. As I’ve read through this book and searched through the parallel Bible passages, I’ve begun to see this fervor in grace that I hadn’t ever seen before. And I certainly hadn’t let myself live in it before!

I knew Christ died for my sins and rose again in triumph, but rarely do I accept that as full payment for myself before God. It’s head knowledge, not heart knowledge. So often, I find myself doing the right things for all the wrong reasons. Once again, I’m diminishing the power of the cross thinking I have to add to it to earn God’s love and acceptance. I need to do X, Y, and Z today in order to fulfill my end of the deal. And as I’ve read about God’s overwhelming grace with fresh eyes, I’ve found myself floored at the reality that I have freedom in Christ. NOTHING I do will make Him love me more or less! Not to say I should stop doing right, obviously, but I can do what’s right out of gratitude that He’s loved me first and I’m not earning any more “points” with Him by doing good. My love and service can be unconditional, an outpouring of the reality that God’s saved me and His Grace is enough!

Now that’s easy to say, yet my pride makes it incredibly difficult to live. But, this is what I want to learn most this year- how to live in the freedom of Christ’s love and grace while serving Him to the fullest. And I’m beginning to see that I can’t have one without the other. I can’t serve Christ to the fullest when I’m trying to earn His favor, since the only way I can really give the full love of God is when I’ve experienced it myself. And when I experience God’s love and grace to the fullest, I can’t help but serve Christ to the fullest, as my heart stills in wonder and amazement at the price paid for me. I want to stop minimizing Jesus’ incredible work on the cross through my prideful intentions of earning God’s love and grace. Basically, I want to know that grace in a way that bleeds into all I do. That’s pretty much my New Year’s prayer (I never keep resolutions. a New Year’s prayer has a much higher probability of achieving something substantial!). To quote Manning, "My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it!" And that, my friends, is good news this new year!

Shopping and Wreking... All in a day's work!

2009-12-25T23:28:00.000-08:00

December 23, 2009
Well, it was the first day back to life after the 3 day extended holiday, also known as a strike :). And it started as quite the normal day. Wake up, prayers, study, breakfast, get ready for school, school. Then, when I got home, I headed out with Uncle and Auntie to the Wholesale shop to shop for Christmas gifts for the kids (winter clothes, jackets, etc.). Well, that in itself was an adventure!

We parked on the street in “downtown” Kathmandu and walked through a maze of small streets and alleys to find ourselves in this pavilion filled with vendors selling items at wholesale price, from jackets and scarves to jeans and hats. People milling everywhere, buying this and that for their shop or stand in all parts of the city. I was pretty much useless as I don’t speak Nepali and thus couldn’t negotiate, and I had no idea how to determine what would be best for the kids. So, I had the job of watching the mounting pile of bags, which was just fine with me because it gave me time to just watch people! The small round lady over there must have a clothes store with those jackets, that man probably has a roadside stand that sells mittens and scarves and hats for the cold of winter. That family is looking for jackets for their two young kids, that mother is shopping for her teenage daughter. It can be very interesting to watch people knowing that you have absolutely no idea what they’re saying (outside of the hit and miss words that are familiar to your foreign tongue!).

Finally, with several huge bags full of warmth and joy for Christmas, we headed out, dodging cars and motorbikes and pedestrians with our bags wobbling like two unbalanced sides of a scale! We reached the car, and loaded the bulging tangle of clothes into the back, and headed home. We stopped for an afternoon snack (it always makes me happy when I get buffalo MoMo... soooo tasty!), and then continued home.

As we drove along, I lazily watched the cars passing by, listened to the horns continuously droning, and let my head wander in and out of reality! In my subconscious, I realized there was a bus next to us, right outside my window. Suddenly, I jolted back into the car with the loud crunch of metal on metal with the screams of paint being torn from its original body and relocated to the side of a large bus. All inches from me. My 5 senses seemed to multiply as I realized that we were indeed just hit by a bus!

Uncle stopped the car (in the middle of the road... where else would you stop?!) and the bus stopped as well. Then came the yelling and shouting of determining who was responsible. I’m really not sure how you determine that when there aren’t really observable laws, rules, or general road markings, but they duked it out verbally (soon, a traffic police officer joined the match) for about an hour and a half. Finally they came to the conclusion that they would each pay for 50 percent of the damage done to Uncle’s car (you really can’t tell whether or not the bus had damage because it was already banged up!). Well, about 15 minutes into the arguing match I dozed off again and wandered in and out of consciousness until we finally reconvened our drive home.

There’s something about shopping and driving that just makes me want to sleep, and I guess I got a little extra sleep on this trip! A word to the wise: if you ever live in a foreign country (or America, take your pick!), drive a banged up car (like one you fix with spray paint and a hammer!) so that if you get hit by a big bus without insurance, no worries!

A Different type of Christmas!

2009-12-25T23:23:00.001-08:00

December 25, 2009
You know the drill. Everyone in the family puts on their best clothes, bundles up, and heads out to the Christmas Eve service (or Christmas day service; whichever it may be!). Then, you sing a few carols, read Luke 2, if you’re really blessed the children act out Luke 2, light a few candles, sing some more songs, and then head back home to a roasty toasty home with a tree bursting with presents! Well, something like that :). Here, we do things a little different...

To start, our service is on Christmas Day. This is only the second year that Christmas has been recognized as a national holiday, making it all the more sacred! It’s not enclosed by a convenient winter break, so it’s a lone day off in the mist of weeks and weeks of Hindu holidays! Christmas morning, we all woke up at our varied times, and the tumbling up and down the stairs began as the Christmas preparations were in full swing! The church service started at 8 a.m. Nepali time (meaning, 9, 9:30, or 10... basically whenever everything was ready!), so kids were running about, putting on new sweaters, jackets, hats and mittens!

I found out that we were eating breakfast at church, so around 8:15 I headed over there with some kids, only to find them just starting on the food. About a half hour later they were still working diligently on the food, so I headed back home, to see if the rest of the kids were ready to go. Well, I got home and Didi had a four course breakfast ready for me, which I gladly accepted (my stomach still isn’t used to getting up so early and eating so late!), and when I finished eating, I headed back to church with some of the girls. We arrived, and people were sitting here and there, enjoying the breakfast.

Around 11, the service started, and people crowded inside! There were many of my students from school as well as Hindus from around the area who were invited by friends. For a small church, there were over 20 visitors for the service! We sang song after song after song for about an hour. Then, Uncle preached over Luke 2 (some things are the same worldwide!), and then we sang and prayed for another hour or so. Some of the kids danced to Nepali Christmas music in traditional Nepali dresses while others sang songs. Probably the best part was when the kids acted out Luke 2!

Isha played Mary and when she and Joseph arrived at Bethlehem (aka center stage) after checking in with Caesar Augustus, she collapsed quite convincingly on the ground and began moaning like a goat with its head partially severed (yes, I do know that that sounds like now...). The two angels there, Rupa and Asha, held up a sheet for modesty reasons of course. More wailing and howling and about 30 seconds later the sheet dropped, and Mary sat up holding a brown haired, very large headed puppet. If you’ve ever worked on Caraway Street, think of those puppets! All head, no body. Well, Joseph, wrapped in a sheet himself, took the baby Jesus and placed him in the litter box and swung him in the air.

Meanwhile, two shepherds began herding their sheep, who were none other than Raju, Darshan, Rajkumar, Joshua, and several other boys from the church. They were all dressed in their white Karate uniforms and they made some of the best bleating sheep that I’ve ever heard! Suddenly, up popped Shiva as a messenger from God, dressed in jeans and a leather jacket (angels might look different here!), telling them to fear not! He sent them on their way towards Mary and Joseph (who was still swinging Jesus in the air). They arrived and awed over the baby for a few seconds, before turning back to corral their scattered sheep with their bamboo rods! It might have been the most interesting acting of the Christmas story that I’ve ever seen!

Afterwards, we headed outside to eat a feast of fresh goat, curry, rice, spicy pickles and vegetables. People milled about, here and there, meeting friends and encountering new faces! “Merry Christmas” rang through the air as people laughed and talked in the huge tent set up for the party. We ate and ate and ate some more, and then people began heading back inside. People began singing and dancing as everyone gathered back inside! We had some more dances, and the kids did a Bible quiz competition against Krishna’s brother’s hostel kids, and there was more dancing! Finally, we wrapped things up, with a resounding “Merry Christmas!” At this point, it was almost 4 in the afternoon. We had been going for a good 6 hours!

But wait, as the adults headed for safety, the youth and young adults cranked up the Nepali rock Christmas music, and the real dancing began! I felt like I was at one of my friends’ weddings, jumping around, laughing, sweating in the cold air! The Electric slide is a rather versatile dance and if you move your arms right and have enough hop in your step, you almost look Nepali doing it! And then we started the fastest bunny train around the room that I’ve ever been part of. We were literally leaping around the room, music blaring, laughter just peeking over the noise of the music! In and out, up and down, Nepali’s dancing like American’s and vice versa! We danced and danced and danced until we were all out of breath and sore and ready for bed.

About 5:30 we turned the music off and cleaned the church, inside and out, so that it would be ready for church tomorrow! Sweeping, gathering, and burning the trash, close the windows, draw the curtains. Slowly we trickled outside, tired but happy, glistening with sweat! As we headed out, the fading sounds of “Merry Christmas” filled the air for one last time!

Soon after arriving at home, like clockwork, the line went, basking the house in an eerie blackness! This amidst the cries of hunger from the kids (whose metabolisms worked through the afternoon feast far faster than us older people!) and no Auntie or Uncle (they went somewhere after the Christmas “service”) meaning no emergency lighting and no food. So, I rounded up Manisha, and we headed out to a local shop that is open pretty much always. Like a little roadside WalMart. Except not at all. Anyway, we bought currah (dried flakes of rice with no taste), dal mot (a spicy mixture of noodles, small chips, nuts, and lots of flavor), and 4 packages of chow-chow (Nepali Ramen noodles).

Returning home, we crushed the noodles in the package (they’re far better dry in my opinion!) and then mixed everything together in a big bowl. There were 21 kids to feed, so we had to be creative as I have yet to make it to the bank after all the Christmas shopping! Then we scooped it onto the plates with a helping of American Gold Fish on the side, thanks to the generosity of some people from my church (bet you never thought the Gold Fish would become the entre on Christmas, did you?!), and voila, Christmas dinner! I have to admit, it was an unusual Christmas dinner, but everyone was fed, and is now pugio (full), so it worked out! Quite an unforgettable Christmas!

A Reason to Celebrate!

2009-12-25T23:21:00.000-08:00

December 24, 2009
It’s Christmas Eve, and I can hardly believe that I’m almost halfway through my stay here. As I sit here typing on my computer, listening to TobyMac’s “This Christmas” (you should YouTube it if you haven’t ever heard it!), I can’t help but think of how much I’m blessed with! I miss my family and friends a whole lot, but I also have a huge family around me here, overflowing with love and laughter and joy!

There have been trying times with the kids and there have been times when I wasn’t sure if anything I have done has made one iota of a difference. Living in a children’s home is a different kind of missions work than going out on the streets and belting out the music of the Gospel! There are different battles, from things disappearing from your room (American treats are of high value here!) to your everyday teenage disobedience. I guess that’s where I’ve learned the most; I’ve taught high school math 2 years in the US, but I’ve never lived with 8 teenagers at the same time, thrust into parenthood overnight! And the other kids are well on their way to their teenage years! Balancing the “sister” in me with the “mother” in me has been a tottering act. Teaching kids to love an obey Jesus just isn’t the same as teaching them math.

But as the days go on, I see these small changes, bringing me hope and more joy than I can explain! For instance, any one of the kids can be mad at me for making them do their math homework rather than watching TV and hold that grudge of silence and coldness for over 24 hours. I’ve realized that I can’t let that get to me, so I tend to ignore them when they respond like that (either that or I kindly inform them that they’re acting like a 4 year old!). And then they’ll shock me and the next day they’ll come to me and apologize for their attitude and disobedience without me even bringing it up! Or, one will voluntarily do someone else’s wash or chores, without strings attached. Or they’ll clean a whole waste covered field with a smile alighting on their lips and laughter spilling over the warm air!

And then I think of my coworkers at school. Some have attached themselves to me (I am the white girl from America, after all...) and we talk about life and Jesus and Hinduism and Buddhism a couple times a week. And I get to share my hope and love in life with them, as many don’t see any point in life here, as there seems to be no way up in life (the beauty of a caste system). Not that any have responded outwardly yet , but the seed is there, germinating as God sheds His Son on the soil to bring life! And they were invited to our Christmas program at church tomorrow, and I’m hopeful that at least one will come!

And finally, I think of my friends and family supporting me back in the US. From those willing to buy 15 orphan kids they’ve never met shoes and clothes to those willing to box little pieces of home and send them to me for me to share and enjoy with the kids, so many people have touched and encouraged me from thousands of miles away! There are those days when I’m just ready to come home and I’ll walk into my room and see something sitting out from a friend or will see a couple of the kids playing some game from the US, and my wariness will melt into a smile as I think of all the prayers and love going up for the kids and me!

So for all my thoughts of home this Christmas, I’m truly marveling in how amazing our God is and how far His grace reaches. I took a Bible course last semester called Perspectives, and we talked over and over again about how our God is a God of the nations. And being here in Nepal this Christmas, I can see that! As I worship and praise Him with these believers in a tongue I only vaguely understand, our unity as a body is overwhelming as I think of the God we serve! Whether white, black or brown, man or woman, child or adult, we’re all working for the same goal- to see Jesus high and lifted up! And I pray this Christmas would light a fire for his kingdom!

Christmas Presents, a few days early!

2009-12-20T19:09:00.001-08:00

December 20, 2009
In a home of 17 kids (give or take a few on any given day!), having will power to hold out with gifts until Christmas is hard. Very hard! And then you add three scheduled days of strikes with nothing to do, and all will power goes out the window! So, last night we did presents :). Quite the experience!

I made the kids a Bible scavenger hunt to find their presents, sending them up, down, inside, outside, from here to there in search for their treasures! We did it after dark, adding another element of fun to the game! Many of the presents were group gifts, games and toys from amazing people in the US, but they all had small gifts from me as well, journals I had made in the US for the girls, balls for the boys, and badminton sets for the boys and girls, and a few other trinkets here and there!

I gave all the kids bags to collect their treasures in as we went, and then we all gathered in the kids dining hall to open them all together! Newspaper (my makeshift wrapping paper) flew everywhere, with balls bouncing and kids shouting with glee! There were the shouts of “what’s this,” “how do you play with that” and “WOW!” It was a lot of fun! And allowing them to open them a day early allows them to play with them during these days of strikes! Which is nice since during the week we have little to no time to play! So, the next few days should be filled with fun and laughter, rather than pencils and math! Not that pencils and math aren’t fun- I think they’re great- but the kids don’t always share my sentiment!

Merry merry merry merry Christmas!

2009-12-20T19:08:00.001-08:00

December 19, 2009
I never would have expected it, but people go Christmas caroling here! Now, you may picture a small group of people going door to door, which would be the typical American way. But, when in Nepal...

To start, caroling is scheduled. This is partially because most people don’t know their neighbors like we do in the US. All houses are gated in for security reasons, so you can’t just go knock on a door. Well, you could knock on the gate, I suppose, but that would not be quite as effective :)! It’s also because there’s a huge group of people, usually more than 20 or 30 who travel together. And finally, there’s a full sound system. Mics, amps, guitars, drums, it’s all there!

So, they arrive in mass, either by foot, grimacing under the weight of a stage worth of equipment, by a fleet of vehicles, or by a flatbed truck (my personal favorite!), with all the carolers packed on! Then, the 20+ minute unloading, set uping (in Nepal, adding ‘ing’ to any word is legitimate!) process begins, with the neighbors peeking over the edge of their roofs to see what the loud commotion is! Finally, the whole house comes out, sitting on benches, on roofs, on fences, wherever they can find a seat. Then the music begins!

All the songs a familiar, but none are known to me. But most have an awesome beat, which jumps into your feet and the shoe tapping, foot stomping begins! And soon, there are people dancing around the driveway, hands alighting in the air, feet lightly tapping as though through rings of fire! Twirling here and there, moving over and on top of wires, in and out of the beat! For about 30 minutes we sing, and then finally, we give everyone a cup of milk tea and a roll or some other pastry item and sit and talk for about 30 minutes before they head out! Quite an experience :).

Over the River and Down the Hill, to the Custom's Office we go!

2009-12-15T22:42:00.000-08:00

December 15, 2009
I have the best mother in the world. No, really, I do. Throughout college, she sent me packages every now and then, just because, filled with fun stuff for my friends and me. Well, now that I’m around the globe, every week she sends some sort of mail/package for me. I share her love of the world’s vast mail system. I find it fascinating that with a few little squiggles on an envelope, that envelope will travel from Kathmandu all the way to the other side of the world, all for only 50 cents! But here, I’ve REALLY enjoyed all the packages and post cards and letters from home, because they’re my support when I’m homesick for another Westerner. I hadn’t realized the power of the “senders” of missionaries before, but my respect for them has increased one hundredfold! They are definitely the strength and encouragement behind the world’s missionaries!

Anyway, back to my mom being the best in the world. I had a package from her at customs again, and Krishna’s been really busy with church and Christmas stuff and with the fuel shortage, so he asked me to go pick it up myself. Which I was more than happy to do, since I hate feeling like I’m imposing on him to get a ride across the city- that and I’m a fiercely independent person, so I love the chance to do something for myself! So, he drew a map for me, and I figured, hey, I’ve been there like 4 times already, so I should be fine! And after school, off I rode on our bike.

Well, I’m not the most directionally coordinated person in the States, so put me in a foreign city with another alphabet system and maybe one road sign (in another character system) ever few miles, and I might get lost. There are these roundabouts spitting you out on any one of 3-5 roads and street shops everywhere, creating a vague sense of déjà-vu everywhere you look. Well, I did fairly well on my way to the customs office, only taking the wrong turn twice at one roundabout, realizing 5 or so minutes later that I was pretty sure I didn’t recognize the houses surrounding me. Then, at another roundabout, I stopped and studied the map fiercly, intent on not taking the wrong road again! Fortunately, a kind man who was probably amused by the white girl on the old bike wearing a baseball cap and gripping a sweaty piece of paper as if her life depended on it (which it may have, in reality!) stopped and asked me where I was going. I showed him, and he immediately showed me which road to take, to my relief.

I do have some landmarks in mind as I ride through the city, the biggest being the long bridge over this murky, trash laiden river dividing the districts of Kathmandu (where customs is) and Lalitupar (where I live). And after the bridge comes this statue and then this 10-story tall round pencil of a building which looks like it would fit better in New England as a light house providing the way for ships, but it’s nice for those foreigners who need a tall landmark in a land of 3-story shops.

Well, I made it to the post office and customs in about 45 minutes, and was pleasantly surprised at the ease of claiming my new treasures! After explaining to the customs officials what small white boards are (my mom’s genius idea for helping me tutor 3-5 kids at once!) and that I live in a children’s home, they were incredibly lenient on the custom’s fees, and I managed to escape leaving only 150 rupees (2 dollars, almost exactly) in their hands.

After loading the new treasures into my backpack, I headed off, but I couldn’t go back the same way because the road I came in on was a one way street. So, I headed down the street, recalling buildings and parks from riding as a passenger with Krishna. Slowly, the buildings faded from my memory, and I was completely unsure of where I was. I had thought that riding through Kathmandu on a motorcycle was about as real as it gets, but the bike might be even more real. Up and down hills my legs strained, and I was sure my knees were going to give out if my lungs didn’t beat them to the punch!

Finally, I reached the verdict that there was no way I had ever seen this before, so I wheeled around, riding up and down the hills once more, until I was back into familiar territory. Up this street, down that one, now where is that palace?! Oh! There it is! And there’s the statue! THERE’S THE BRIDGE! YESSSSSSS! I know where I am. And it’s only been an hour and 15 minutes since I left the post office! So, another seamless 20 minutes up and down streets with the confidence of a pro basketball player playing street ball with armatures, and finally, our hostel was in sight. I don’t think it’s ever been so beautiful. As I crackled off the bike, the kids all inquired where I had gone. To the end of the world and back, I thought, but with a laugh I simplified the conversation with a mere “To the post office.” And while I anticipate I’ll take a few wrong turns next time as well, I know I can make it home eventually!

A Brief Tour of Kathmandu

2009-12-11T03:20:00.002-08:00

December 9, 2009
While the house was eerily quiet in the exhaustion following the anniversary, Simon (a brother visiting for a few days from the UK who is chairing Feet Ministries of UK), Uncle and I got up early and tiptoed out to drive up to Nagarkot to watch the sunrise. We drove for about an hour, through and around the city, and then up this mountain (for those from Kansas, it was a mountain. the Nepali’s call it a hill!) to the top where there’s this resort and a beautiful view of the valley below. Or, there would be a beautiful view of the valley and the Himalayas surrounding it, but, to my amusement, it was cloudy and overcast. The day we get up early it would be overcast!

We were still able to see some beautiful scenery though, and it was probably the most relaxing place that I’ve been since I’ve been in Nepal. It was totally quiet, with a bird singing here and there, the absence of the constant car horns and shouting allowing the cares and worries of the day to melt away like butter on pancakes. Which is what we had for breakfast! We went to this restaurant in the resort, which had an “American” style breakfast, which was very good! And there was soft instrumental music in the background, relaxing you into the true quietness of the mountain! So, we ate and talked and sat for awhile, and finally we headed out.

Our next stop was to Changu Narayan Village, which has this Hindu Temple on the top of another “mountain.” Simon and I had to pay 100 rupees since we weren’t Nepali in order to go into the village, which I found humorous. But it was so worth it. Basically, this is a group of Nepali people with their own language and very traditional houses and way of life. We walked through the village, snapping photos here and there, admiring the beauty and quietness of this sleepy town only 30 minutes up the mountain from the hectic world of Kathmandu.

This was my first trip into a Hindu temple, and it was, well, not what I expected. I expected this overwhelming sense of darkness, but Satan has cleverly disguised his presence in the sleepy quietness of the idols. As I walked around and saw the idols everywhere, different gods for different people, my heart broke, and I began to pray for the chains that Satan holds over this place of “worship.” I saw rats scurrying about (I had to remind myself not to stop breathing!) and people offering worship to which ever idol they preferred. There was a “holy” place designated for Hindu’s only, and it made me think of how Christ has torn the curtain of the temple, allowing ALL to enter into God’s holiness now. I have a much better picture of what the temple of the Jews must have been like in the Old Testament, with the exception that they only served the One God, and everything they did was for Him.

We finished our day with a trip out to the new land where Uncle’s planning on building another children’s home. He wants to separate the girls into one home and the boys into another (which is a great idea; Nepali girls are just way to pretty to live with other teenage boys!). The land was beautiful, a testament to the glory of God in this dark nation, and we prayed over it before leaving. It’s outside the city, with the quietness of village life, and still the proximity of the city. I wondered if his car would make it on some of the roads though! We’ll see where God leads with this... Hopefully it will be started before I leave :). One day I imagine I’ll come back to visit, and have to travel all over the city to visit my kids!

The Party of the Year!

2009-12-11T03:20:00.001-08:00

December 8, 2009
Anniversary parties. Even amidst the silence of the world due to the Maoists, the preparations for the party went on, and praise God life was back to “normal” on Tuesday for the party! The excitement started for us days before (that whole field cleaning bone burning excitement called serving!) and on Monday, we had some real excitement. That is, we cut the goats to be cooked and eaten the next day.

So, there are these two cute goats tied up outside in the field, grazing in the grass, completely happy with life, totally ignorant of the fact that they’re about to become part of a feast. Out flood the men and boys, armed with these curved knives that are “sharpened” and there’s a huge pot of boiling water. So, they prepare the goats (I had nothing to do with this excitement, outside of taking a few pictures!), and then phwack! And a goat squeal like you’ve never heard. Within a few seconds the head’s off and laying on the ground, and the next one goes. Then comes the boiling water to open the pores enough to scrape off the hair. We then moved them into the yard to wash completely, before blow torching them. I have no idea why, but it was rather interesting watching them torch the bodies and the blackened heads. Then, they began to slice and dice, for a few hours, chopping and whacking over and over again. 30 kgs of meat in all. That’s a whole lot of very fresh meat!

So, now, fast forward from that long aside to the morning of the party. Huge tents are set up, with a long stage at the front with hundreds of chairs lined up on carpet (yep, we rolled out the carpet for the event!). Kids are darting to and fro finishing this and that while the hired workers cook the food for several armies and finish setting up everything. Things slowly fall into place, and as Rami told me, “Sister, the party starts at 10, but that’s Nepali time. Maybe 11, or 11:30 we’ll start?!” There are times when it’s really nice to live in a relaxed time schedule like that!

The party finally starts, complete with pastors from all over Nepal and members of Parliament (who were not Christians) adorning the stage. There are children and friends and grandmas and parents all over the field. We started with a couple of praise and worship songs, and then floated into the pastors of the Feet Ministries Churches giving their annual reports of their church. Some of the kids sang and danced, while others acted out a Bible story, and Isha and Laxman gave their testimonies.

Everything went really well, but Isha stole the show. While I couldn’t understand her, she speaks with a passion and I could read her story on her face. During the parts about her past life, her eyes filled with tears and her voice became choppy. Her words brought tears to everyone’s eyes, and Pastor Krishna was weeping on stage. As she moved on to her time in the home, her words became more fluid, and a smile bloomed on her face as she told of the love and care she’s had here, as this truly is her only home. Even the children were mesmerized with her speaking. One day, I won’t at all be surprised if I hear that she’s a traveling speaker for the Gospel through her testimony!

After everything finished, one of the members of Parliament spoke with Krishna about how impressed he was with the program. The transparency of the organization was evident as they told exactly where all the funds came from and where they went, which he’d never seen before in all his work with religious organizations. Then, he was moved to tears by Isha’s story, and stated that he’d never heard of a child’s life changed like that. He complimented Isha on his way out, bringing a rose hue to her brown cheeks. In a very real way, his life was changed by the Gospel on Tuesday. Not that he’s made a decision for Christ as of now, but he’s seen the transforming power, and his heart is being broken by the true power of Jesus! It was such an encouragement to see God move like that!

Then, the feast began, and we got to eat the goat and more rice than you can imagine alongside pickled spicy relish stuff and fresh sliced vegetables! After seeing God move, nothing could make the day better, but the feast was an awesome way to end a great day! So we ate and talked and talked and ate and slowly people meandered back to their homes. As the sun set, everyone’s hearts were alive with the joy of Christ’s movements while their bodies craved the comfort of their beds!

Hello, World. Nepal is closed today!

2009-12-06T21:02:00.000-08:00

December 6, 2009
Hello World. Nepal is closed today. And we might be tomorrow too. But leave a message after the beep, and we’ll get back to you as soon as the Maoists get out of the roads. So, this was my initial reaction to seeing the strike today. Growing up in the US, I knew about labor unions and had heard of strikes, but only from afar, and the US has never seen a strike like this. When the Maoists say “Tomorrow there will be a strike for all of Nepal,” they literally mean, tomorrow the entire country will shut down. Not one or two industries or even businesses, but the whole country comes to a standstill.

Let me give you some background. I honestly don’t fully understand the situation, even after trying to read 3 months worth of local newspapers about everything going on here. But, here’s my best shot. Nepal went through a civil war here from 1995-2006. The Maoists (also known as the Communists, literally) fought against the government for those years, in an incredibly bloody revolution. I’ve looked through books of pictures from those years, and they make me sick, with all the bloodshed and bodies strewn about with what seems like no concern for life.

But, in 2006, they formed a new government and began to rebuild the torn nation. Their initial attempt included mixing all the political parties here (including the Maoists) into the government and trying to work together that way. Nice in theory, a disaster in real life. Back in May, the Maoists pulled out of the government after the rest of the government refused to let former Maoist soldiers be integrated into the Nepali army, and instead insisted that they be kept in camps on their own. Meaning, you basically are back to two entities vying for the power here, and there’s not a lot to keep them in check.

Now, there’s a lot of Indian refugees here (I guess India’s problems are a lot worse than Nepal’s at this point) who are living in the forests/jungles without homes or land or anything. Well, in an attempt to strengthen their party, the Maoists promised these people along with the poorest Nepali’s that they would receive land if they stayed in this forest. So, imagine the strangest village made of makeshift lean-tos and tents sporadically stretched between trees and people milling about everywhere. Well, the government got mad and wanted their jungle land back, so they decided to take action.

Naturally, the people there wanted to fight for the land, which they believe they are entitled to, so they refused to leave when the government commanded them to. So, now you’ve got a whole entire pool of squatters who are refusing to move while the government sent out another army of people to move the squatters out. Well, the conflict turned deadly on Friday, with the government using force to move the squatters, and 3 people ended up dying in the conflict. This has added further fuel to the fire of anger that the Maoists have against the government, leading to where we are today.

The Maoists called a nationwide strike today in order to protest the 3 deaths at the “hands of the government.” So, everything shut down. Maoists can instill a lot of fear here, and 17 vehicles were destroyed and set on fire in the roads here. The streets were vacant of vehicles yet full of people, looking around aimlessly as if not sure where to go or what to do in this time of confusion and silence. Here and there a street shop was open, but the majority were closed, locked tight as if trying to keep out the very air itself. There were fist battles between the police and Maoists, and there’s concern that this will just continue to escalate, especially with the Maoist pulling out of the government all together. The Maoists have declared that they’ll continue to fight as long as the government denies “justice” (whatever that means here!) and the government has stated that they’ll continue to thwart the actions of the Maoists as long as they continue to stir up riots.

Watching the news last night and seeing the flames flowing from destroyed cars, watching battles between the police and the Maoist and hearing the tales of the violence escalating left me thinking we just need to have a huge revival here. I mean, they all need some Jesus in their lives. I can’t play sides, because I really don’t understand the Maoist’s anger or the government’s actions, but from the sidelines, I can see so much hatred and anger here, and I just want to go out and gather everyone together and say, “Here. You need some Jesus. Really. Everything will be better with a little love in your life!” Who knows... maybe one of these kids will do that one day!

Be Careful What You Teach Your Kids!

2009-12-03T20:38:00.001-08:00

December 3, 2009
Serving and learning to serve. This story isn’t about my serving, more about the kids serving and how they’re learning to serve! So, the other day, Rami, Isha and I were out looking for a new Kotessera for me to wear to our anniversary party next week (I guess it’s a pretty big deal, and my only Kotessera that still fits is my one from school, which the girls would not dare let me wear to this party!). So, we went from tailor to tailor, looking for the perfect one. This one is too gaudy, that one is too expensive. This one has too much around the neckline, that one is too thin. And so on and so forth. Isha found hers at the first shop, but I didn’t want to spend a lot on mine, and I wanted to like it a lot. It didn’t seem like too much to ask for!

And then, we found it. The perfect Kotessera for me. The girls immediately stated that I had to get it, and I promptly agreed :). So, I bought it, and then we had to take it to another tailor to have it sewn (Kotessera’s come with three pieces: the material for the top, a complementing material for the big baggy pants, and then a scarf thing; the tailor just cuts it to your size and sews the pieces together for $2-3. amazing, right?!). So, we arrive at the tailor that Aunty and Uncle use. He’s a man from the church, and he made my first Kotessera. Well, we give him the Kotessera material, and ask him if he can finish it by Monday, which he says won’t be a problem.

Then comes the serving. Ready to leave, I had my bag ready and was about to head out the door, when the girls said, “Come on sister! We’re going to help him for a little bit.” Totally confused, I followed them outside, with a big blanket and soap in tow. The girls quickly explained that he needed help washing this blanket because he wasn’t going to have time to wash it. So, we settled into washing it, and Rami said, “See, we have to serve him because he’s part of the family of God and he doesn’t have anyone to help him!” Amazed at her response, I agreed, and we scrubbed and rinsed and scrubbed and rinsed this big blanket for about 30 minutes until it was clean. Never once did I hear either girl complain, at least in English! But I’m pretty sure they weren’t complaining in Nepali either...

Story 2. Our anniversary party is next week, and it’s going to be a huge deal. Members of Parliament are invited, and will probably come, along with pastors from all over Kathmandu and church members and the kids’ principal and friends and so many more! So, the “yard” here is in no way big enough to accommodate all the people, so Uncle decided to have it in the vacant lot next to the house. Problem being vacant means local dump in Nepal. Trash everywhere. Not to mention the land mines deposited all over the grass, waiting for some unsuspecting child to come step in them and bring that lovely smell with them for the rest of the day!

Well, it had to be cleaned, so Tuesday after school, the boys tromped out with these short rounded machete looking knives to cut the grass and surprising smiles on their faces. So, I grabbed as many plastic shopping bags as I could find and headed out to make a game of this grizzly task. So, I gave the boys bags, and we chose a central location as the location of our future trash bonfire. And then we raced to see who could collect and dump the most bags of trash on the pile. Over and over again our bags filled with empty shampoo packets, broken glass bottles, old animal skulls, small scraps of paper, lonely socks, and just about everything else you can think of (and probably a lot of what you wouldn’t think of)! And then to the bonfire pile we’d race, dumping the sack and heading out to do it again. Most of the boys got 15-20 bags of trash collected when all was said and done!

Relieved to be finished and amazed at the transformation in the field, I was all ready to drop a flaming match onto this pile of junkyard treasures when Laxman ruined everything. “Sister, we need to burn it over there. Not here. It will leave a burn mark.” “Laxman!!! WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL US THIS WHEN WE STARTED?!” “I didn’t think of it until now!” Our huge pile, which was up to my neck, far beyond the height of Raju, now had to be moved about 50 yards away.

I looked around at the other burn spots decorating the ground like black ornaments on a Christmas tree and was about to say “what’s one more black circle?” when Rajkumar beat me to the punch. “Well, we’re supposed to do everything without complaining and arguing, right?” A verse that I’ve been teaching the kids. Thrown right back in my face with a smile and laughter. And so I let out a laugh and said, “Ok, Rajkumar, you’re absolutely right, let’s move it!” So we found these big old bags and used them as small tarps and would pile the trash on, use 2-3 people to carry it over to the new location, and then back to collect more trash.

Finally, about 30 minutes later, we finished once again, and lit the fire. I’ve never been so glad to see a fire burn. Probably killed a few thousand of my brain cells with all the plastics and such in the mix, but hey, I learned to do everything, even moving a pile of bones, plastic and all other wastes without complaining. Be careful what you teach kids- they just might learn it and use it on you!

Prabin. The other half of Arun.

2009-12-03T20:36:00.000-08:00

December 2, 2009
Prabin is joined to Arun at the hip. Arun was one of the first kids in the hostel, while Prabin followed a year or so later. Their ridiculous sense of humor and goofy way of teasing and joking makes you want to laugh just looking at them! Imagine two girls who are joined at the hip (for those of you who knew me through college, picture any one of my three roommates and I, going everywhere together and doing everything together, even as far as teaching in the same city!) and that’s Prabin and Arun. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen two boys who are closer friends and brothers than these two!

Anyway, sorry, that was a tangent in this story about Prabin. So, you have your background: think of Arun’s characteristics, and they’ll apply to Prabin 99% of the time! Prabin’s family lives about 30 minutes from here and he has one older brother along with one younger brother (he calls himself the medium child, which cracks me up! I always want to ask which brother is the well done one and which one is rare!). They live with his mom, and I gathered that his older brother does most of the providing. He has a job working at a bookshop, and Prabin wants to take me there sometime to meet his brother. Again, there was no mention of a father anywhere in the picture, which was not surprising or unexpected. Prabin’s grown up here, so Uncle has become a father figure to him.

Another unsurprising element is that Prabin struggles with school. He’s quick to inform me that he’s not “talented” like the other children, which is his excuse for failure. However, I don’t put up with it (it’s that mean teacher in me again!), and I’m quick to point out that most of the kids are only barely passing and they’re working their tails off to be passing! He quickly realized that I wasn’t going to accept failure due to “lack of talent” as an option, so he buckled down, and actually passed his exam for me! There were times when we had our battles studying (he’s one of my students at school as well, so we had double the fun!), and I was sure there was no way he was ever going to pass, no matter how hard we worked. Then there were the days when he remembered EVERYTHING from the previous day, and I was like where was this two days ago when we were studying?! I think it has everything to do with his mood and is probably affected by my mood as well! But, as I checked his test, I was amazed at how much he remembered and he passed with a 60% (40% is passing here... don’t ask how that’s affected my teaching mentality!). This up from 0% last time. I was pretty impressed :).

I think one of his favorite things to do is to stand on the roof and just look out over the city (that is, when he’s not laughing with Arun!). He’ll stand there, leaning on the fence around the roof, just gazing at the expanse of this Hindu valley. And then in the backdrop there are these mountains rising up, cutting the horizon short and creating beautiful silhouettes at dawn and dusk. He can just stand there, gazing at them and it might be the most serious I ever see him. Not that I’m any different; I can stand there just looking for hours myself. There’s something majestic about God’s glory in creation here while people worship idols. I think it makes one more aware of how much He’s done for us, both through Jesus and through the beauty of creation. One day, I’ll shake him out of his reverie while he’s gazing out over the city and find out what’s trudging through his mind, but for today, we’ll just watch the city and mountains together in a reverent silence...

Isha. Leader of the Girls.

2009-12-03T20:35:00.000-08:00

December 2, 2009
Isha. Isha is the leader of the girls (and at times all children!), and is one of the oldest children. She struggles with school, though, and is only in class 7. She works so hard for school, and excels in a couple of subjects, but science and math cause her no end of worries. Besides Asha, Isha is the girl who is truly an orphan here. She doesn’t have parents, a fact which she hates yet clings to as part of her identity. She feels betrayed by the world, and like she’s not as good or accepted as the other children because she does not have a family in the traditional sense of the word.

However, she is quick to claim Uncle and Auntie as her mother and father, and she calls Benjamin and Joshua her true brothers. She’s been here since she was a young child, so she’s grown up alongside them most of her life! Uncle sees the pain of rejection in her heart from not having her own “family,” and he is quick to do everything he can to fill that hole with his love and truly treats her as his own daughter.

While I would not venture to guess most of the children’s spiritual gifts, I can say with complete confidence that hers is service. She has far more duties that the other girls, and does them with joy and love. I’ve never once heard her complain about having more to do, and she’s quick to help me with whatever I’m doing as well! She loves helping Didi with the cooking, whether it be chopping up vegetables or cooking or serving. She helps serve the kids each meal, patiently waiting for them to finish and then she eats herself!

Her joy in the Lord is evident as she sings her heart out to the Lord, praising Him wherever she goes! She helps lead worship at church, with her voice raised in song and her eyes closed in prayer. You can hear the fervency of her prayers through her voice as she sings, the sound resonating deep inside your heart. She wants to be a singer one day, and can sing for hours on end. The other evidence of her joy is her laughter. When she laughs, joy fills the air and usually there are other people who can’t help but laugh with her! Often, she’ll laugh at something trivial, that most of us wouldn’t have even noticed, but find rather humorous when looking at it from her perspective! One day, she’s going to be an incredible wife and mother, bringing joy, laughter and service to her family!

Of Chickens and Prabin, a short story

2009-11-29T22:27:00.000-08:00

November 29, 2009
A short story with no particular meaning except to make you laugh as I did. Well, maybe not quite as hard as I did, but hopefully you’ll laugh as well... Once upon tonight, we were ready to start devotionals, and all the children were there except Prabin. As Prabin’s well known for his fondness of his bed, I ran upstairs to see if he was asleep in bed. I looked in every boys bed, covers scattered here and there, but no Prabin. So, I ran back downstairs, and found Shiva returning from outside. “Did you find Prabin?” he asked me. “No, and I have no idea where he is, so let’s start without him.” So we went through the whole devotional without any sign from Prabin.

Now backtrack 2 hours. Prabin was being such a good child that he went up into the nice, warm shed next to the chicken coop to study for his history exam tomorrow. In his intense fascination with the history and government of Nepal, he fell asleep in the shed, absorbing the material through the trail of spittle running from his mouth to his book (ok, the last line was added for dramatic effect only; I don’t actually know if he drools while he naps!).

Fast forward an hour. Di, the older brother who lives in the gate house, brought the chickens their feast of rice and vegetable peelings. Noticing that the shed door was unlatched, he did what any good gate guard would do and latched the door shut and then headed back downstairs. Now, it’s not like a doorknob on the door. It’s like those rounded rods on public toilet bathroom stalls that hold the door closed when you slide them in place, meaning you can’t open the door except from the one side. Except in this case, it only opens from the outside (why would you ever need to open the door from the inside?!).

Fast forward 45 minutes. Prabin awakens, finding himself chilled in the cool air of night. Gathering his books, he assumes it’s almost devotional time, not knowing that devotionals started 15 minutes earlier without him. The great thing about devotionals is that all the children are in the devotional meeting. So, when Prabin discovers that the door he left open is now locked, he bangs as hard as he can, but as the shed’s on the roof above the 3rd floor, and we’re in the kids dining room on the first floor, there’s just no chance that anyone will hear him!

Fast forward 15 minutes. After devotional, one of the kids decides to go check to see if he’s in the shed, rescuing him from a night of chickens and cold! As the girls get dinner on the table, Prabin proceeds to inform us of his trials in the shed, while we’re laughing so hard we’re crying! So the next time one of your kids is missing from devotionals, check the shed off the chicken coop- you never know if someone’s locked in there!

Shiva... Dancing between Childhood and Adulthood

2009-11-29T22:25:00.000-08:00

November 29, 2009
Shiva. He’s turning 16 in January, and is every bit as much of a teenage boy as any teenage boy you’ll meet in the US. He’s the oldest of the boys and at times seems years older as he tries his best to spring into manhood. But most days, he’s in that awkward stage of too old to be a boy and too young to be a man! It can be rather humorous (though I make sure not to laugh around him!) watching him delicately balance the desire to be treated like an adult with the eagerness to jump into the games of the younger boys!

He’s from Gorkha, the place of my one and only roadtrip up to this point! His eyes sparkle when he thinks of home in the fields of rice patties, the jungle, and the beauty of the land. A darkness settles over his face when he thinks of his childhood there, though. From around 1995 to 2005 Nepal was in a civil war between the Maoists and the Government, to make things very simple! Gorkha was one of the most dangerous places to live, as it was a constant battle zone. He was touched by the brutality of the darkness when the Maoists attacked his grandfather, cutting off one ear, gouging out one eye and then leaving him to die. He was then flown to an army hospital, and lived through all that. I don’t imagine many kids see worse things than that...

A little while after seeing the brutality of the civil war he came to live at Krishna’s home. After being raised in a Hindu family, he came to see the light of Jesus shining here and became a Christian soon after arriving! He was baptized and has grown in the church since arriving, and now helps lead worship on the guitar. He’s also involved with the youth group here, which is pretty much just what your typical American youth group is, minus all the bells and whistles!

He’s a pretty bright kid, but like most 15 year old boys, studying is not one of his top priorities! He’s recently discovered that girls aren’t just the clothes-washing, food-cooking humans he once thought they were. This has been a new battle for Pastor Krishna, as the oldest children are just reaching “that age.” I figure there are not many things more difficult for a parent than raising kids through their teenage years, and then you multiply that by 15, and I imagine life can be stressful! But the rule for the kids is that they’re not allowed to fall in love until after finishing high school. I think it’s a great rule ;).

So besides girls as a distraction, Shiva also LOVES to play soccer. Whether in sandals, barefoot, or in his new tennis shoes, he darts around the field with the strength and agility of someone who grew up in the jungle! He also enjoys a good game of badminton (a very popular sport here!) and devours the newspaper each morning. However, I am convinced that his favorite sport is scaring me, and when I walk outside at night, I often slow down and listen closely, because one time too many Shiva’s popped out from behind a dark corner or behind the parked car quietly whispering “sister!” Unfortunately, Raju’s learning to do the same, which doesn’t have quite the same effect as it’s rather humorous to hear someone say “SISTER!” in a high pitched 6 year old voice from knee level!

Shiva reminds me of how much I enjoy working with kids who are teenagers. Most of the time anyway. There are still the times when he’s picking on the other kids and acting like a child and I want to pummel him, but usually it’s all good! I know that God’s using his past and present to shape and incredible future for him! And I know he’ll bring light wherever God leads him!

Anand... "Why?! How?! Tell me more..."

2009-11-27T19:41:00.001-08:00

November 27, 2009
When I pray for patience in the mornings, I always know my first test will come from Anand. Don’t get me wrong, I love him and so enjoy hanging out with him, but he knows how to test me! Anand’s favorite game is to mock everything I say. And I’m not exaggerating when I say everything- every word that comes out of my mouth within earshot of him is quickly retorted in a high pitched imitation of me. Most days I can take it and dish some back. Then there’s the occasional day when God’s taught me that it’s ok to look at him and say, “Enough. It’s not funny anymore” in order to maintain my own patience and peace of mind! He’s great at reading my facial expressions, so he usually knows when he’s crossed the line!

Through all the mimicking, though, Anand does a fair share of questioning. He sometimes reminds me of a toddler, asking “why?!” to everything he can think of and then some. He’s not a great student, but he works incredibly hard (he might have one of the best work ethics of all the kids!), and I imagine one day that questioning will lead him to some neat discovery in science or something. He LOVES to learn about America and will spend hours talking with me about anything and everything, from Air Force One to my home in the US.

He’s got a mind that I often wish I had- one that seeks to know the answers for everything and yet will still question the most trivial things! Of all the kids I’ve helped with math, I’m the most proud of him, because while he’s weak in math, he’s willing to sit there and work and work until he understands! And when I give him a formula or theorem, his response is “Why?!” so then we go on to prove it (it’s great practice for me!). He tests what he hears with all that he has to see whether or not he should take it as truth. His faith is not a faith that simply hears and believes, but is one that seeks the hard answers and is not afraid to ask God the hard questions! He’s constantly writing notes in his Bible or flipping through the pages looking for some verse that relates to whatever question is presently at hand!

Through all his questioning, there are still some questions which I don’t have answers to for Anand. The biggest one is the absence of a father. His mother and one of his sisters live nearby (about a 30 minute walk from here), and his mother sells things on the side of the street for a living. Sometimes when we walk to the market, he’ll see her and run up to her and give her a hug and talk with her for awhile. His sisters are older and one is married and he also has an older brother. While I’ve never met someone as inquisitive as Anand, I’ve also probably never met someone so intent on learning! One day, I know he’s going to use that knowledge and understanding to further the Kingdom in unfathomable ways!

Rami... aka, "Moussa!"

2009-11-27T19:38:00.001-08:00

November 27, 2009
Rami’s that girl in the front of the class with glasses who’s furiously writing down every word the teacher utters, even if the teacher’s mad and is just talking to himself! But she’s also the girl who can have the whole group laughing in an instant with her simple yet versatile sense of humor! The other teachers have informed me that she’s a very “clever” girl meaning she’s a good student, but she has her moments in class!

Well, Rami’s nickname around here is “moosa” meaning mouse. And it’s actually another great fit, because she always has her hair in this long braid that goes from thick to thin on the way down and looks like a mouse tail! Every day at some point I hear someone shouting “Moosa!” and since 95% of the time it’s Laxman, I quickly hear the retort “Latte!” meaning sweet rice. Not sure where that came from, but it has it’s desired effect as his face contorts and she bursts out laughing. Those two are hilarious to watch. They might be the only two who never fight with each other!

While Rami’s the oldest in terms of school class (she’s in class 9), she seems younger than a lot of the other girls. She’s smaller, and she often seems to shrink into the background. However, all the kids look up to her in terms of studying and school. She’s quick to help with problems on homework and notes that her classmates Shiva and Sunita failed to write down! The other girls love to “dress” Rami up and do her hair (aka, braid it) and everything! Today, one of the girls had the genius idea of braiding her hair into two braids, leading Laxman to double over in fits as he called her a mouse with two tails. He actually fell out of his chair he was laughing so hard!

While Laxman’s her closest brother here, her mother and biological brother live nearby and often come to the same church as we go to. I don’t know the story of her father, but I know that he’s not around, and her mother can’t afford to send her to school so she lives in the hostel where Uncle can provide food, shelter and an education for her. Her mother is so sweet and proud of Rami, and in as much as we could talk, I gathered that she couldn’t be happier for her daughter! When Rami sees them at church, she’ll scoop her brother into a hug and beam at her mom.

I’m beginning to realize that most of the children probably only have a mother. Their fathers either have other wives or are just not there. In a male dominated society, being a single mother trying to raise children would be incredibly hard. But in His grace, God’s given kids like Rami homes to live in where they’re provided for and taught the truth each and every day. And one day, Rami will be a light in whatever job God leads her to, and she will proclaim His truth with the same fervor as Krishna does today!

Learning Discipline at the Hands of 15 Children!

2009-11-27T19:37:00.000-08:00

November 24, 2009
Discipline. Something that makes most of us cringe. I’ve heard parents say that discipline “hurts me more than it hurts you!” and I often wondered if there was reality behind that statement! Well, in as much as I love these kids, they’ve been trying me recently. Our biggest battle is the TV room (yes, even in Nepal that fuzzy pictured machine distracts children of all ages!). It’s a rule that the kids don’t watch TV at all during the week except on Fridays. I think it’s a FANTASTIC rule! However, the kids tend to disagree, and have been fighting me on it when Uncle’s not here. I’ll be helping someone with math, and see some little Nepali figure dart by and into the TV room, hoping that I don’t spot their stealthy ways.

Well, this got really old, really fast, because they know they’re not supposed to be in there (they scatter the moment Uncle drives up), and they know I know they’re not supposed to be in there (I come shoo them away every few minutes). So, I simply told them that if I caught any of them in the TV room for the next 2 weeks during exams, they won’t get to go out to eat with the rest of us when exams are finished.

The threat worked great, the first day... then, the kids decided to try me. As I was helping some with math (and they ALL needed to be studying math), I heard the telltale creek of the TV room door and the swift closing of it. In a calm, serene anger, I walked in and told them all to “Get out.” I didn’t yell, or even listen to their arguments as to why they were in there. I merely waited for them to leave. I then realized that I had to follow through with my threat, or else my punishments would become empty words to them. So I pulled them off to the side, and explained to them that they would not be allowed to go with us to the restaurant. Which was so frustrating to me because I just wanted us all to be able to enjoy an afternoon off of school and studying in between terms.

Then, in the evening devotionals, I dove into 1 John 3 with them, explaining why continued disobedience and sin is so upsetting to me. And as I talked, I remembered for the first time in awhile that I’m not here to make them better math students. I’m not here to teach in a school. I’m here to serve Krishna however he needs me to serve, and to teach the kids to love Jesus more today than they did yesterday. If I can teach them math while teaching them about Jesus, awesome, and God’s already shown that He’s using my time in the school to move in some of the other teacher’s lives!

But more important than giving these kids math skills is the reality that they are Jesus’ lights in this world. Teaching them to be light is SO much harder than teaching them to factor polynomials! But I think it’s beginning to set in; I caught one of my girls cheating during her math exam today. I cut marks from her paper and her neighbors paper, but I didn’t address the situation there and opted to wait until we got home. Well, we got home, and I expected a battle to ensue of “I wasn’t cheating! I was just looking around! You’re always picking on me!” (this child and I have had our share of will battles over math, I assure you!). But instead, she came and found me, and before I could say anything, she said “Sister, I’m so sorry that I was cheating. I know it was wrong, and I know I shouldn’t have done it. I’m very very sorry!” Floored, I responded “I forgive you. And I’m so proud of you for taking responsibility for your actions and apologizing on your own!”

I got to see a seed of change today in a young girl’s life. She’s probably the last one I would have expected to voluntarily apologize for something she did, and she’s the one who fights me the most! But yet, God’s Word has caught hold in her heart, and day by day is changing her, right before my eyes! I can assure you, that might have been the coolest thing that I’ve seen in my whole time here!

Redeeming a Slaughtering...

2009-11-27T19:34:00.000-08:00

November 23, 2009
I can’t believe that it’s already the end of the second term here. We have 3 terms and this week and next week are term exams for term 2. Meaning, half days every day as the kids only take one exam per day, and then a 3 day weekend!!! I know, I know, you probably have a 5 day weekend coming up for Thanksgiving, but here in our 1 day typical weekend, 3 days is a whole half of an eternity!

So, the kids came home with their test order papers, and to my mounting dismay, every one of them had math on the first day of exams. Meaning, I was going to have to help 11 kids (the four younger ones don’t typically need help) at the same time. Well, at first I was beyond overwhelmed. In my mind I still have to shake the desire to have every kid understanding most of the material. Here, they have so much to learn in one year (most of which is just repeated the next year with one or two extra steps) and we go so fast that 40% is passing. So I’ve had to retrain my brain to think, “what can I get these kids to understand that will amount to at least 40%?!” Not that I don’t want them to score high- I’d just rather them have a strong foundation in a few things rather than hit and miss knowledge in everything. But then I realized that having all the math exams might mean that I was crazy busy for 3 days, wrestling through algebra, geometry, accounting and so much more with the kids, but then we would ALL get a week and a half off math! That is soooo worth the exhaustion!

So for the 3 days leading up to exams, I segmented my time between classes, flying between kids, spouting off formulas they should have learned 3 weeks ago, and scolding for not learning those same formulas! A square root here and a fraction there, here an x, there a y, math math everywhere! I knew I hit an all time high when 3 girls came to me in the same morning saying they had dreamed about me helping them with math. Now that takes talent to tutor kids from across the house in your sleep! I should charge... easiest money I’d ever make!

The day before exams, though, I had to go to school for a short teacher’s work day. It was like 2 hours long, and honestly, I didn’t want to be there because I knew I had so many kids at home needing help. But, I went, and God once again proved His will is supreme! Our assignment in those 2 hours: count your class tests, and paste the students numbers on their desks (we mix all the classes of students together so they can’t cheat off one another). The counting took all of 5 minutes, with an hour and a half break before we could do the pasting!

I was on the verge of being frustrated with having to sit and wait at the school when I could be at home teaching (I was a little impatient- I had been up till midnight tutoring my class 9 kids and then was back up tutoring the kids around 6!) when one of the other teachers sat down across from me and said, “You’re a Christian, right Miss?!” And my first thought was, “God, now?! I’m exhausted, and my brain isn’t even functioning correctly with all of this math!” And then God scolded me and reminded me that in a typical day I don’t have the chance to talk to my fellow teachers about much of anything, much less God and Jesus.

So, humbled and totally relying on the Holy Spirit to guide me as constructing intelligible sentences was becoming a chore, I smiled and assured him that I am a Christian. He was looking at a picture in the newspaper which spoke of how tens of thousands of animals were going to be sacrificed that day for a Hindu holiday (I think?!) and how futile that seemed. He then ventured to ask if Christians make sacrifices. What a beautiful lead into talking about Jesus as our sacrificed Lamb, right?! Something EVERYONE here understands, as they see sacrifices everyday! Real life (err, death?!), blood spilled sacrifices. Not something too common in America, yes? So we discussed Jesus as our sacrifice for our sins and how Jesus’ blood cleanses us before God. Pretty soon, there were several teachers sitting around, adding comments here and there as we discussed differences in religions and Christianity as a whole!

Crazy how God used a Hindu festival of sacrifices and blood to plant seeds in the hearts of some of my co-workers who are actively seeking a religion to follow. They’ve tried Hinduism and Buddhism, but said that they found them empty (so surprising?!) and are looking into other religions. And when I was most exhausted and most unwilling to do much of anything, God shook me up and said, “Now. I speak through you best when you don’t let yourself get in the way!” I guess you could say that God redeemed my day :).

I'm smelling coffee, math is calling just inside...

2009-11-19T22:31:00.001-08:00

November 17, 2009
Today was one of those days, where you just feel kind of off from the start, and aren’t quite sure exactly what’s wrong or how to change it. But, I didn’t want to be grumpy and short all day, so I just begged God to change my attitude and heart. I just didn’t have the energy or patience to deal with all the kids and math and everything, and I had about 30 minutes before picking the kids up from school. That and I was so craving the fellowship of another human being my age. But I decided that I’d have to just choose to have joy, even though I totally wasn’t feeling it!

So the kids come galloping home, and God lifts my spirits as I begin to joke and tease them! Raju might be my favorite one to tease, because he now knows enough English to tease back, but not enough to say anything other than “SISTER!” when I scoop him up and swing him around and tickle him mercilessly! I begin my hours of helping with math, and one by one my charges finish up until I’m left with just my class 8 and 9 kids, who are pretty easy to help as their foundations are a little better than the rest. It’s coming near devotional time, though, and this man shows up named Somdesh. He lived at the hostel and was the kids first tutor about 6 years ago! The kids love him, and he’s spent the last few years living overseas somewhere working as a factory manager.

While he’s Nepali so there’s no cultural gap for him with the kids, he also understands the occasional trying times and the many joyful times of living with and teaching 15 kids at once! So, I’m pretty sure God prompted him to invite me to a cup of coffee, which was exactly what he did as we got ready for devotionals. Since one of the kids was leading devotionals tonight, I happily agreed, and we set off for a restaurant just down the road which I’d never noticed before!

We sat down and ordered coffee, and began to just talk about our families and our jobs and life in general! The coffee was AMAZING, and so was the chance just to sit and talk with someone about nothing and everything all at the same time. We got to share some thoughts on God’s church being an international body which knows no boundaries and the fact that God truly is a God of the nations. It was so refreshing! And, I got to have Momo, which is this steamed thing like ravioli, and I had mine with buffalo meat inside. It’s really really good! Then, we had another cup of coffee (I really might become a regular there; it was that good!), and we headed back to the hostel. I felt as though God had literally used a couple cups of coffee and some meat to refill my cup to overflowing!

We got home, and after two cups of coffee, I was pretty wired, which was good because my class 8 and 9 kids had a TON of math left, but they could do most of it on their own. So, I sat there with them, helping this one or that one every few minutes. The hours ticked by, until it was 11. And they were pretty much finished at that point, so I headed back up to my room. Which is where I am now. Writing. And contemplating the grace of God. Because God provided Somdesh at exactly the moment that I needed a friend, and though he’s leaving the country again soon, I have one more friend that I’ll be able to greet by name when we get to heaven! And God filled me to the brim with joy in the form of coffee, Momo, and conversation. I wonder how many other times God’s filled me at just the right moment and I haven’t even noticed?! I think that of all the things I’ve learned here, the thing that I’ve learned the most is to notice God, every day, all day. Because He really is in everything. From a former teacher to a cup of coffee, God fills us up however He chooses! And for that, I am incredibly thankful!

Riding on that Harley... errr, old and broken Honda?!

2009-11-19T22:29:00.000-08:00

November 16, 2009
So, my first day to cut hair, and my first day to ride on a motorcycle in Kathmandu, all in the same day! Exciting, right?! I had another package waiting for me at customs, which I figured was small enough to fit in my backpack. So, Prokesh picks me up after school and we’re off! Now, you might remember when I first arrived I wrote about the death laden car ride through Kathmandu to Krishna’s house. Well, on a motorcycle, there’s even more excitement! After all, if you get hit, well, you might be a pancake. Thankfully, though, Prokesh’s bike doesn’t go over like 50 km per hour, so, speed was never an issue!

It’s interesting here- the driver’s of motorcycles ALL wear helmets; NONE of the passengers do. So, here I am, helmetless, thinking if ever my chances of dying were high, this was it! But Prokesh was an AMAZING driver (maybe because I was with him?!), and I actually really enjoyed the ride! There’s something neat about driving through the city, out in the air, so close to other people that you could literally touch them! Feeling the wind on your face, seeing the city as it truly is.

Anyway, we get to the post office, and dance through the hoops of getting my package, and when I get it, my stomach drops a notch while my excitement soars, as it’s a big box! Thrilled with anticipation as to what was inside, I wondered how in the world we’d get it home! Prokesh didn’t seem phased at all though, so I decided not to worry either. So, we finish claiming the package filled with Goldfish, Peanut Butter, Cracker Jacks, and games galore for me to share with my children with amazing haircuts (and the rest of them too!), and then we head out!

Well, he hops on, and on the way there, I had loosely held onto his backpack for peace of mind (not that it’d do a lot of good in an accident, but it was comforting to me!). Well, I climb on behind him, and wedge this box that’s a couple feet wide by about a foot and a half deep in between us, forcing me to lean way back (talk about an ab workout!) and he turned his backpack backwards so I could hold onto the straps. Well, we head off, and hit a traffic jam. My abs just aren’t what they were when I was a swimmer, and I finally had to readjust. So, I balanced the box on one leg, kind of sitting sideways on the bike. Then, I gripped it with both hands in order to not drop it!

Good thing Prokesh was an amazing driver, because it was a whole new exciting experience riding with no hands holding this big box of treasures! It actually was pretty fun, and I wasn’t even worried at that point about wrecking. I was way more concerned with not dropping my pot of gold! Obviously we made it home, more than safe, and Prokesh informed me that we’ll be touring Nepal over winter break! I didn’t ask if we’ll go on his bike, and things tend to change with the wind here, but I’m thinking that it would be incredibly cool to do it by bike! Don’t worry Mom and Dad, we’ll be careful!

If you see me with scissors, you might want to run. Fast.

2009-11-19T22:27:00.000-08:00

November 16, 2009
When I was little, I had this image of missionaries in my mind as these tribal people who braved all sorts of dangers, fighting off lions and tigers and “uncivilized” people every day! Now, there are definitely some missionaries who probably live like this, but I’m learning that missions work is just as much about the small daily events as the big glamorous ones. This would include those times when the boys have to cut their hair, and there’s no one there to do it...

So, this morning after breakfast, the boys informed me that they needed to have their hair cut short before school (which was in an hour). Problem being Laxman’s the only one who knows how to cut hair and he was gone with Uncle. If we waited until school, it would cost each boy 50 rupees, which we didn’t want to spend. So, the older boys informed me that I only needed to cut Raju, Darshan, and Rajkumar’s hair (meaning they didn’t trust me with the scissors; probably for good reason!).

So Raju comes out in just his pants, his tiny arms and body covered in goose bumps from the cold, teeth chattering, and a slight look of fear encompassing his dark eyes. I start on his hair with a pair of old scissors and a comb, and Arun promptly tells me I’m doing it wrong and grabs the scissors. He then begins butchering Raju’s hair, and I ask him if he knows what he’s doing. He says, “No, I’ve never done this before!” with laughter spilling over. I grab the scissors back and tell him he’s not allowed to touch them anymore and begin to try to fix the damage done.

Well, soon Shiva comes out and says, “Oh, sister! You’re cutting his hair! I will finish it!” Assuming he knows how to cut hair as the oldest boy, I hand over the scissors, as my second mistake of the morning. He spends a LONG time trimming this way and that, and pretty soon Raju’s hair looks decent all around. The one problem: the front was about as crooked as crooked gets. It was hilarious! So, Raju obviously couldn’t go like that, but I had to start Rajkumar’s hair, so I passed Raju off to Bimala who took another pair of scissors to his head. She got it as even as was possible, and he finally looked presentable!

Meanwhile, I had 20 minutes to finish Rajkumar’s and Darshan’s hair, which was just not looking too good. But, practice makes perfect, errrr, slightly better than before, and they improved over time. I combed this way and that, with a snip here and a slice there, and got their hair shorter. There may have been a few dents, but, overall they weren’t terrible. Well, from the front. The backs were a little hilly, but, hey, it was my first trial by scissors in a time crunch!

So, we finish in the nick of time, and all of us run to get ready for school, brushing shreds of hair off us as best we could! And we’re off, and I’m thinking, “gosh I hope no kids make fun of them!” We get to school, and Darshan told me later that all his friends asked him what type of haircut did he get! He answered that he had an “American” cut and everyone in America wears their hair like that! Great response, right?! Now we’re going to have a generation of Nepali’s thinking American’s have the weirdest hair EVER! But it was my first time, and I’m sure when I leave I’ll be an expert! It’s all in a day’s work as a missionary :).

Food and Brown Play-Dough... it's all the same!

2009-11-16T01:01:00.000-08:00

November 14, 2009
Today the principal invited me to eat breakfast with his family. Well, things didn’t quite work out, but I ended up eating at the school hostel with him. There are 45 kids who live at the school all the time, so the cook there is amazing! Anyway, I show up, knowing that I’m going to leave completely stuffed! And I was so right :).

I was handed a huge plate heaping with rice, fried potatoes, and this hot, very spicy pickled relish. Then, there was a plate of fresh sliced cucumbers, carrots, and white radishes on the side. And to finish it off, there was a bowl of spicy chicken. To the principal’s surprise, I dug in with my hands, and he was rather pleased by that! I ate and ate and finally was close to finished when the cook materialized with another heaping serving of rice and potatoes! I was so full, and said “No no! Pukio!” which means “I’m finished!” She just laughed and said “Torre.” which means “Just a little.” To my dismay, the food piled right back on, and I just looked at my new carbs to devour. The principal (who’s a short but large man) just inhaled his food, and finished when I was only halfway through my seconds. He laughed and told me just to finish it at my slow speed. So I worked very hard and finished it all off. I was so proud of myself! It really was incredibly good, though, it was just too much at once!

I decided to give my body all day to work that off, and I didn’t have the typical afternoon snack (which was just as well as we went to FRUITS today!). When we got home, I smelled the amazingness that is Didi’s cooking, which aroused my hunger once again! When she walked in with the pot of food, I did a double take. Instead of the typical curry, there was this mountain of brown play-dough. Ok, maybe not, but it really looked like it. And the kids all flew into a frenzy at the sight of it. “Sister sister! That’s Nepal’s national food!” Great, I thought... I wonder what that is?! Didi smiled and handed me a crusty edge of the play-dough to eat. I cautiously eyed it, contemplating the cost of eating this unknown creation. I decided that if it’s the national food it can’t kill me, so I tried it, and it pretty much tasted like crusty nothingness. No salt, no seasonings, nothing.

But then with dinner, the boys taught me how to really eat it. You dip it into the “soup” drippings that the chicken’s cooked in, which I LOVE. It’s this spicy broth with vegetables and chilies and it’s soo good! So, I dipped it in, and the broth made everything good. Dip, swallow, don’t chew or bite. Those were my instructions. I’ve eaten entire meals without chewing (occasionally the boys “challenge” me to see who can finish their food fastest) in 2-3 minutes flat (I know, my digestive system’s going to be shot when I get home!). But this was a whole new level of no chewing!

I finished and wandered into the kitchen to attempt to find out what this brown play-dough really was. Aunty told me that it’s Brown mountain rice (I guess they mush it up?!) and was surprised that I liked it! It’s all in the chicken broth! It makes all things good :). So, I’ve now had the honor of eating the National Nepali food! So, if I hand you a plate of brown play-dough when I get home with a bowl of soup on the side, just give it a chance! You might just enjoy it...

Being White in a Country of Brown...

2009-11-16T01:00:00.000-08:00

November 11, 2009
The kids think that any white person is my friend. No really, they do. We can be walking down the street, and we might see a white person or a few walking together, and they immediately say, “Sister! Your friend!” It’s rather humorous in a way... I’ve tried explaining to them that just because we’re white doesn’t even mean we’re from the same country, but that’s a little hard for them to grasp! So, I’ve taken to being quite bold wherever I am, and if I see a white person, I walk right up to them and ask them where they’re from. Crazy, right?!

This has led into some cool conversations with complete strangers who are also my brothers and sisters! To start, a number of people have floated through the church, from Ireland, Sweden, Australia, etc on short term missions work! It’s always fun to see another white face in church! Currently, at Krishna’s brother’s hostel there’s a guy from Sweden helping out. I don’t remember how long he’s here for, but he’s been here about a month, and I think he’s staying longer! It’s funny cause if I see him in the street, he’s always got 4-5 kids in tow, and I’ve got about the same! The kids all know each other, so they immediately start talking as fast as they can to each other in Nepali, and we just laugh and ask each other how life is. It’s pretty great! We’re having some of the same struggles with math weakness at home, so I told him I’d bring him a set of the multiplication cards I made for his kids. He looked relieved and said that’d be amazing (it’s really the little thing that make our days here!)!

Then, some of the girls and I were walking down the street, and there was a group of 3 white (TALL) guys walking towards us, so the girls obviously assumed we were best friends! Laughing, I said I’d never seen them in my life, but if they wanted, I’d go talk to them. To their great concern, I walked up to the guys and said “Hi! Where are you from?!” Now, let me set your minds at ease; one had on a cross necklace, another a Christian t-shirt, and the third just looked like a nice honest guy! I figured I was safe :). Besides, I had 5 girls to back me up, all who’ve studied Karate in school! So, I found out they’re from Germany and Australia! I’m convinced that Australia knows how to do missions and send people out better than anyone else. I don’t know what they’re doing there, but they’ve got it right! I’ve met 4 totally unrelated people/groups from Australia, which I think is way cool!

Anyway, we talked for a bit about why we’re here/what we’re doing, and they live right down the road as well. We invited them to church, but they couldn’t come this week... maybe next week! They’re doing more coffee shop evangelism, I think, which is very different from my “field,” though we have the same goal in mind! Anyway, the Germans were excited to meet an American German, and they totally could say my name perfectly, first try. I think I’m moving to Germany next!

All this to say, knowing there are other young people around me, working the fields and harvesting a crop is more encouraging than you could ever imagine! We’re all in this together, and fortunately, God’s given us a common middle language (I’m spoiled, it’s English!)! That, and America needs to figure out what Australia’s doing right, because they’re sending those kids out right and left! Pretty phenomenal! So just know, when I see a white person on the street, I just smile to myself, for I have yet to meet a white person in this area (not the touristy areas) who’s not here to proclaim the name of Jesus! And that makes my heart very glad!

Happy Birthday to You, even though I don't know you!

2009-11-10T22:52:00.001-08:00

November 8, 2009
Birthdays are a festive time here, with parties and such! Usually we tragically end the life of a goat or chicken early in order to fully commemorate this rare occasion! Well, on Sunday Benita, one of the class 9 girls, turned 17, and she threw a party. I don’t teach class 9, but she insisted that I had to come to her party with the girls from our hostel. So, with uncle’s permission, Isha, Rami, Sunita, and I headed off to her birthday party. When we arrived, most of the class 9 girls were there along with some from classes 7 and 8. Probably around 15 girls in all. I think the boys at home were disappointed that they didn’t get to come!

Well, the girls did a great job of introducing me, though I got a little lost on the “this is my sister’s husband’s daughter” part. Sometimes family ties can be hard to follow, no matter what country you’re in! Then, I was walked into the living room, where I met Benita’s grandparents and parents. Her grandmother pulled me down next to her, and so I sat there for the rest of the evening! All the girls were scurrying about serving food, and I felt like it was my party! But her grandmother had a firm grip on me, and I obviously wasn’t going anywhere!

We did birthday presents in the living room, which was a cultural experience for me. I’ve never fully understood what the smudges of paint (called tikah’s or something like that...) on peoples foreheads meant before now. I knew it was distinctive to Hinduism, but I learned that they signify a blessing from whoever “smudges” you. So, each of her grandparents and parents put some paint on her head and sprinkled flower petals in her hair (still not sure what that means!). And then, they asked me if I wanted a tikah myself. I didn’t want to offend them as I was a guest in their home, but I wasn’t going to take a tikah since it is based on Hinduism (besides the fact that I hate the idea of putting paint on my face!). So, I declined, and to my relief, they laughed and said it was fine.

Benita then delivered an appetizer plate of food, which was really good. At any party here, you’ll have these kind of fried round thick pink things called Prawn or something like that. I can’t really describe how they taste, but they’re pretty good. Then, there was potato curry, alongside spiced chicken. Both were delicious! I was full after eating it, which was unfortunate, because unknown to me, we still had birthday cake and the main course to follow!

The birthday cake was a light chocolate cake with a very light icing with a dusting of coconut. It was amazing! Then, to my slight dismay as I was already stuffed beyond eating more, the girls told me that the buffet was set up in the kitchen and to go get my food. The bright side was that I got to serve myself, so I could serve myself very very small helpings! However, in doing so, Benita’s mother took that to mean she needed to go get me another plate full of food. So, I had rice and more chicken and chips and fried fish and I thought I might be sick. I told her it was all amazing, but when she left the room, I donated some of the food to the girls, who were more than happy to take it off my hands!

When we finished eating, it was time to go home, and I thanked Benita’s parents (in Nepali!) for having me over. And they wouldn’t stop thanking me for coming! They told me over and over again that it was their pleasure and honor to have me, and I was welcome to come back any time I wanted. I think it might have been their first time having a “white person” in their home :). It was quite the evening!

FRUITS...

2009-11-10T22:51:00.001-08:00

November 7, 2009
When I was younger and in a youth group myself, my youth pastor taught us this really really cheesy song that is basically just the fruits of the Spirit. It starts with, “Well I’m a fruit, on a big fruit tree,” and goes on to ramble off all the fruits. For weeks, the older kids were asking me to go to some concert with them after church on Saturday, but for the life of me I couldn’t understand what they were saying. Each week there was some reason I couldn’t go, whether it be work at home, or teaching other children, or running errands. Finally, this week I got to go with them.

When we arrived, there was this paper sign up that said “FRUITS.” It was my understanding that this was some sort of church meeting place with the concert in the afternoons, so I didn’t understand why there was a signs advertising fruits there. Then I figured, hey, I’m in Nepal, they’re probably just selling fruit here on the side. Well, when we got in, it became apparent to me that it was talking about the fruit of the Spirit, and that was the name of the group that met there! And it was basically this area wide youth group started by this middle aged man and a few other musicians who seek to draw teenagers to the Lord through worship! Cool, right?!

Well, I thought that was cool, but when they actually started playing, I was floored. The first two songs they sang with us were in English, and as a band they were phenomenal! We sang “He is the Lord” and “Days of Elijah” and I don’t know that I’ve heard better compositions of those songs before! Then we sang a few songs in Nepali, some which I knew and some that I didn’t, but they were all beautifully orchestrated! And to hear some 60 or so Nepali teenagers all singing praises together at the top of their lungs was incredible! It’s been awhile since I really was able to participate in corporate worship like that!

Then the band took a break and the leader basically did a devotional with the kids, talking about his life in the Lord (not that I understood; Laxuman explained it to me later!). And from listening to the kids laugh, he must be an incredible speaker. They were riveted on his words, and his facial expressions only magnified his story telling ability. Now, I should give you some background of the leader. He’s in a wheelchair as his legs never developed fully (though that doesn’t affect his guitar playing at all!). He talked to the kids about how our beauty should come from the inside, and in good humor explained that what’s outside doesn’t matter to God, as was evidenced by his body! He spoke of how people all his life had spoken against him because he can’t walk, but he stated that no matter what those people say, they cannot change the beauty that fills him inside because he’s a child of God! I imagine a lot more details were added to season the story from the laughter of the kids, but that’s the basic just of it. His natural joy in life was so obvious to everyone there, and I could just feel my cup overflowing as I praised God with this brother from a totally different walk of life! Since it’s a weekly occurrence, I’m sure we’ll be back again for another refill this week :).

Shoes and MORE!

2009-11-10T22:48:00.000-08:00

October 30, 2009
A few weeks after writing about our “football experience” and the lack of shoes, a friend from home let me know that they wanted to buy shoes for the kids along with their Sunday School class! Excited and grateful, I told them that they were more than welcome to buy them, but that it might be much more cost effective to send the money and let us buy the shoes here. It also deleted the possibility of getting stuck at customs for weeks on end! So, with excitement, I told the kids that they would ALL get new shoes! We collaboratively decided that the boys would go for shoes first since some of the girls couldn’t go today, and the girls would go a few days later. There was no way that I could handle taking 15 kids to the market at the same time!

So, Friday after school we headed out to buy school shoes for those who needed them and fun shoes for everyone! You talk about constantly counting... I had nine boys in tow, on a street crowded with hundreds of people and vendors! We walked and walked, and I felt kind of like a shepherd herding my little flock of sheep through unknown pastures with 3000 other sheep roaming our grass! We made it to the school shoes shop, and found the right shoes for the boys, and then it was time for the fun to start!

I allotted each child 1000 rupees (it seemed reasonable to me!), the American equivalent of 13 dollars. With excitement, the boys began talking of how they would buy shoes, pants, sweaters, etc with their rupees. I told them they could buy whatever they chose as far as shoes and clothes go, as long as they stayed under their 1000 rupee budget! So, to my amazement, the kids picked out shoes, for 400-500 rupees. Some got Converse high tops, some got nice tennis shoes, and all range of shoes in between!

The rest of their money had to go to clothes and such. With eager excitement, the boys picked out jeans, and almost every boy got a new pair of jeans. Then, we moved on to sweaters and watches, cleaning out our rupee supply! I’ve never been so impressed with the spread of a few American dollars. And I’ve never been so impressed at the intensity of male shopping! Every boy had a partner that they had to keep in tow, and we darted from shop to stall to street corner, shopping for the best for each boy!

Exhausted, we began the trek home, piled down with bags and boxes and shoes and jeans and watches and smiles and hunger! There’s nothing quite like walking home with more bags than kids, in the pitch black of night, along these highways with no streetlights or stoplights! Very concerned that I was going to lose a kid, the older boys were required to hold the younger boys hands, which they easily agreed to do! When we got to the most major road, which we had to cross to get back to the hostel, I was sure we were all going to die. I’ve never been so concerned crossing the street, but when you’ve got a herd of boys in tow, things are a little more complicated! Needless to say, we made it home alive, hungry, and worn out, but very very thankful for our newly acquired treasures! I don’t think I’ve ever heard the words thank you so much in one night! And the girls were so gracious about it! They’re so excited to go themselves, but they were just as excited about the boys’ treasures. I was very impressed! It made for an incredibly fun and exciting evening!!

Daily Devotionals, a time to ask and receive!

2009-11-06T19:52:00.001-08:00

November 6, 2009
I’m not going to lie, when I first found out that we do devotionals every night, and I was going to lead twice a week, I was a little more than unsure. After all, when I get going, I use words all wrong and sometimes I might even make up words! And, then I expect a bunch of Nepali ESL kids to understand my ranting and raving?! Crazy, right?!

Well, it turns out we’re going straight through Luke, so at least we’re guided. And the older kids have a great grasp of the English language and have quickly picked up on my quirky statements that may or may not make any sense! So, we usually sing a few songs to open, and there’s nothing like 15 Nepali kids singing acapella in a cement box of a room that resounds with beautiful harmonies! I’m learning the songs slowly, and have been writing them down as we go in my own sort of little Black song book. The kids love it and laugh with me at my singing, which is a step below pathetic in Nepali, but I’m trying! Raju’s the one who gets most excited with this huge eye to eye grin when I sing in Nepali. I think it’s because he doesn’t speak very much English, so that’s pretty much the only time he understands me!

Then we charge around the room, each kid reading a verse, and then we take turns breaking it down. To be honest, the days when I don’t lead are like a second quiet time for me, with this Nepali background murmuring. On the days I do lead, I feel bad for the little ones who don’t really understand, but the older kids are pretty good about translating for them. Then after, they can ask the leader questions, which is typically a “No one has questions now let’s eat!” time.

However, for some reason, when I lead, I get the most unusual and interesting questions. One night this week I finished dissecting the passage, and as is tradition, I asked if there were any questions. There was some hesitation, and then one of the kids asked me where Jesus was coming back. “Is he just going to come over Jerusalem and we’ll all meet him there, or will he be everywhere?!” Ummm... let me just say, I had no idea! That led into the question as to why God didn’t tell us when Jesus will come get us, which Laxuman answered beautifully with “because then everyone would wait until then to become Christians and they wouldn’t live for Jesus now!” Which he concluded with asking me how the earth got people on it if Adam and Eve were the only first people. A great question. One to which either leads to “I don’t know exactly” which is where I went or the defining of the word inbreeding, which I really didn’t feel like getting into! Then some asked where we got languages and if we could really reach heaven if we built a tall enough tower. And we finished with how did other religions come to be.

There’s NO Bible study prep course that could prepare you for the questions these kids ask! But, it’s often one of the most entertaining and bonding times we have as a group, because the kids are so real and honest about things they want to understand! One time, one of the older girls asked if it was a sin for a young boy and girl to love each other. Not exactly sure what she meant by love, I asked her to explain, and she said “You know, love each other!” I’m pretty sure she meant “I love you” love, but I sure wasn’t going into any other love with 7 and 8 year olds in the room who don’t always totally get what I’m saying anyway! Well, the older kids figured out why I was flustered, and burst out laughing, assuring me that wasn’t what she meant. I felt bad for the younger kids because they were so confused as to what was going on... My best advice if you come to Nepal and do nightly devotionals with these kids: read the whole Bible before you come :).

Being Known

2009-11-06T19:50:00.000-08:00

November 2, 2009
I’ve decided that there are different levels of being known. For instance, if you’re a Christian in Nepal, most people around probably know that, whether or not they’re your friends. You just live differently than everyone else. Then, if you’re a white person in Nepal, you’re known as a foreigner. Then, cap that off with living in a children’s hostel and working at a local school and everyone in a 10 km radius will know you!

I love walking down the streets here for that reason: I’m known. When I see other Christians or they see me, the instant greeting of “Joy-mecy” and a smile blossom out. One of the coolest greetings ever: Joy and mercy in Jesus Christ. We use it with other Christians, while the typical greeting for Nepali’s is Namaste. I think we should pick that up in America! After all, Paul started his letters with Grace and Peace, right?!

Then, I live in a hostel and teach in the local school. I don’t know that this school has had a white teacher before, so that in itself is a jump! All the kids greet me, whether in school or on the street, and usually it’s with a bright smile! When I walk to pick up the younger children between 7th and 8th period, the class 7 and 9 kids look out their window and yell hello at the top of their lungs. Usually I can look up and see Anand or Shiva in the window grinning with a hoard of boys surrounding them. Why the boys always sit by the windows, I’m not sure...

When I walk to the store or the stationary shop for school supplies, everyone knows me as the girl who lives in Krishna’s hostel! The stationary shop took about 3 days to figure that out; no one comes every day buying 12 copies one day (notebooks), 8 erasers the next, and so on just for themselves or a few children. Buying in that quantity means lots of kiddos! And I think they like me, because they often give me discounts when I come, whether it’s a free copy or two, or a free dry erase marker when I buy ink. I brought the kids with me the first few times so I’d know how much stuff cost (I didn’t want to be overcharged just because I’m white!), and the shopkeeper’s been very consistent in charging me what he’d charge anyone else or even a little less. It could also be the buying 800 things every week factor ;).

At the store, the owners know me (they’re the ones who asked if Chloe and I were Christians way back when I first got here!), as do the different checkout girls! Yesterday, the girl at the counter asked me where I went to church and I told her. She goes to a different church in this area. She said that she knew me because I always sing with the music when I come in the store (what can I say, I sooo appreciate hearing Christian music in English playing over the sound system!) and we talked for a few minutes. After realizing we had no idea where the other went to church, she said something that I think should be the motto of every Christian in the world. With a grin, she said “Oh well, it doesn’t matter, because what really matters is that we serve the same God.” And that might sum up all the differences and similarities in Nepal for me. We Christians all serve the same God, and any differences beyond that are just the seasonings in life!

There are bugs in your hair!

2009-11-01T23:03:00.001-08:00

November 1, 2009
Lice. They were bound to come sometime. For about a week now I’ve wondered with the off and on itching. But today after washing my hair, my fears were confirmed. “Sister! There’s a lice!” Bimala cried looking at my hair. As lice are pretty common here, the girls know exactly what to do to get rid of them, and are experts at it. So, I sat on the stairs, and Bimala directed my head this way and that, as she patiently combed my hair over and over again, searching for the little critters that were sucking the life out of my head!

One by one, she pulled them out, and Darshan would exterminate them by smashing them into the ground. I should have counted, but I really didn’t want to know. Over and over again she combed my hair, this way and that. Soon, a crowd of kids had gathered around, all “helping” to annihilate these unwanted creatures. A rather humbling experience! Actually, the kids were amazing about it. It’s pretty every day for them, so they weren’t weirded out or anything. In fact, they kept telling me that I have Barbie hair (I took it as a compliment, though I hate Barbies!) and it is “so nice.” That made me feel better :).

Then came the advice portion of the extermination. Wash your hair with soap, and scrub your scalp as hard as you can. Then rinse. And rinse again. And again. And some more. And probably more after that. If you’re not sure, a few more buckets of water will be good. And NEVER “manage” (fix) your hair while it’s wet. Wait for it to completely dry before putting anything in it. I think I’m just going to have them direct me at the well next time I want to wash my hair, which will probably be very soon after this lovely experience!

They’re awesome about pouring the water on each other’s heads while they wash their hair upside down. It’s like one long chain, you pour for me, I pour for him, he pours for her, and so on. Anyway, this was my first experience with lice, and I really didn’t freak out. It was just another one of those things that I’ve now learned to deal with and while they still weird me out, I don’t feel sick thinking about the thought of bugs living in my hair. I know that sounds gross, but there are just so many other things that can consume my energy here! Small bugs just don’t make the top 10 anymore :).

A Tale of two Packages...

2009-11-01T23:02:00.000-08:00

October 30, 2009
Once upon a time there were two packages en route to Nepal from the United States. They contained clothes and snacks and all sorts of fun and exciting things. One day, Sister received notice that they had arrived! With excitement and exuberance, Sister set off to retrieve her packages with a handful of children. To her dismay, though, the packages were not at the nearby post office, but were rather at the one down in Kathmandu, over an hour away by MicroBus.

After waiting several days, Shiva and Laxman figured out where to go, and agreed to take Sister with them. They set off around 4:30 in the afternoon, ignoring the bold typed office hours which ended at 3 (what post office closes at 3?!). They caught a MicroBus, and rode for an hour, crossing dirty rivers, passing the King’s Palace, and soon the MicroBus was filled with over 40 people. Suddenly, Shiva said that it was time to get out.

Without having an inkling of an idea as to where she was, Sister was totally at the disposal of two teenage boys in a city brimming with people, over an hour from home! Thankfully, true to their word, Shiva and Laxman did know where the General Post office was, and they quickly made their way over there. To their extreme disappointment, the office was closed, and darkness was brimming on this Hindu city. With forlorn faces, they began to trek home.

They walked, and they walked, and they walked. Suddenly sister realized that they really weren’t going to take a bus to get home, and really were going to walk the whole way! We’re talking an hour and 45 minutes, up and down hills and stairs, around trash piles, dodging in and out of traffic. Amazing, I know! About halfway home, they stopped and bought snacks to tide them over. They arrived at home exhausted and dejected. Sister’s spirits brightened when she realized that the next week Uncle would be home and would take her to receive her package!

The day after Uncle arrived, he took Sister to claim her packages! With great excitement and anticipation, she danced through the mazes at customs to claim this hidden treasure, which had only increased in value over time! 50 rupees here, 200 rupees there, $5 in taxes is nothing compared to a good American jar of peanut butter!

Arriving at home later that afternoon, Sister found the children awaiting her return, with grins on their faces. They knew that they would receive surprises from those foreign boxes that came from faraway places known only in their minds! With an easy smile, Sister told them to wait, and after dinner she would allow them to have the surprises. True to her word, after dinner they broke out the games of Go Fish, Old Maid, and so many more!

After awhile, Sister went up to her bedroom to read and then sleep. However, half an hour later, she heard shouting and rambunctious laughter wafting in the air! Concerned that the sleeping children might be wakened, she flew downstairs to check and see what was going on. To her surprise, Laxman, Shiva, Sunita and Rami were playing Bible trivia with one of the decks of cards, asking each other the questions, and laughing at the assortment of answers! With laughter, she joined in and began to play with them. For about 15 minutes they sent the questions around, racing to be the first to answer. Listening to the answers might have been the most humorous thing Sister had done in a long time! Adam and Eve and Peter and Paul and fish and bread danced around in her head as she darted back up the stairs to go to sleep. With contented relief, Sister smiled knowing that the packages were finally with their rightful owners, and the kids were thoroughly enjoying them!

Arun... aka, potato.

2009-11-01T23:00:00.000-08:00

October 28, 2009
If Laxman’s my favorite kid to laugh with, Arun’s my favorite boy to laugh at. Well, not really, because he’s always laughing too, but he’s just one of those kids that you look at and laugh! The kids call him “Aloo,” which means potato. And actually, he really does remind me of a potato! I can’t really describe why. I think it’s because he has this long, lanky body with 13 year old limbs flying everywhere all the time, and this smallish potato shaped head. I totally don’t mean that in a mean way, and Arun totally takes it in good measure!

When he goes up and down the stairs, he doesn’t walk like a normal person, or even skip steps like most boys do. He FLIES. I’ll see a flash of blue streak past, and I know it’s Arun. He goes up and down the stairs exactly like my brother back in Kansas! He literally leaps down the flights of stairs, while his arms wait on the previous level, and then seem to retract down to his body! While all the kids feel like little siblings to me (we really are one huge family here!), Arun really seems like my brother. The other day, he came galloping into my room, one pant leg rolled completely up and the other down, shirt dripping from his hands, with water all over his body! Grinning, he proceeded to shake as much of the water off on me as he possibly could before putting back on his shirt. Thankfully, he’d just washed his hair out in the well, so he was clean!

He has the type of self confidence that I think most people wish they had. He really doesn’t care what other people think of him (at least that I’ve seen!), and is far more concerned with ensuring that he’s properly entertained. He needed a safety pin last week for something, and has worn it in the middle of the front of his t-shirt ever since. It’s not holding anything, it’s just there. And if he puts on a sweater, there it is! He really struggles with reading out loud (which we do every night in devotionals), and I wonder if he’s dyslexic. He’s a sharp math student though I think he struggles some in the other subjects due to the reading. His mind is crisp, but I think he has trouble projecting that onto paper...

If you ever find Arun and he’s not smiling or laughing at something, the world may have ended. He might just walk up to you, grin, and put his arm around you and walk with you. He might come up spray water on you! He might sprint with you to the store as fast as he can, leaving you in his dust, and then turn around grinning and watch you catch up. Or he might draw aliens on the table with you (they wiped off) and then crack up laughing for several minutes looking at them. I think of all the people I know in the world, Arun enjoys life the most!

Just one of those amazing days...

2009-10-26T23:54:00.000-07:00

October 24, 2009
Today was one of those days that leaves you feeling all warm and fuzzy inside when you crawl into bed! It was just that good :). To start, some of us went on a walk this morning, and we walked about 20 minutes out to the river! It’s a beautiful view, and maybe next spring we’ll go swim in it! We’d have to hike down about 8000 steps to get to the river, though, so we just looked from the cliff :). Then we walked back, and I read while the kids did their duties.

After breakfast but before church, I pulled out the frisbee, and some of the boys and I played frisbee. It started as a nice slow game of catch, but then Laxuman and Shiva decided to make it a two person game, leaving the rest of us out. So, Anand and I decided to fix the problem by becoming the “monkeys in the middle” and it erupted into a game of keep away, with lots of shouting, a few full out tackles, and shaking laughter! The yard’s not that big at all, so it got pretty interesting... so worth the sweat and dirt after showering!

Then, we went to church. Now, don’t get me wrong, I love going to church here, and the people are really friendly, but I do miss worshiping in English. It’s not that I don’t like the Nepali music, because I really do, but I’m a music person, and not being able to sing with them because I don’t know the words is hard for me! But, to my joy, today, three of the ten songs were songs that we sing in church in America, just translated into Nepali! So, I was able to jump in and sing with them in English, which made the girls really happy :). I’m trying to learn Nepali, and I can fake Nepali sing pretty darn well, but it’s hard when you’re worshiping and you want the words to come from your heart and you have no idea what you’re saying! So, that was a very welcome surprise!

Last night Arun gave me my first taste of FRESH coconut. And to my slight surprise, I LOVED it! So, on our way home from church today, I bought one (for like 50 cents... the kids thought the guy over charged me because I’m white, but I told them I didn’t care!), and we all shared it. It was AMAZING. If you’ve never had fresh coconut, well, you’re really really missing out. It’s this milky sweet crisp crunchy delight that you suck on and then chew up. When I come back to the US, I might move to Hawaii. Surely they need math teachers?!

Then came math time, for about 2 hours, which is a very light day for me! Afterward, I had some time to clean my room (it’s amazing how messy it gets after a week of kids tredging in and out!) and just relax! After moving some of the furniture around (you’d appreciate the set up, Katie!), I grabbed the guitar and headed up to the third floor roof, which is my FAVORITE place to play. You can look over the city while you play and sing at the top of your lungs and the sound is just so crisp and nice! And you can watch the airplanes come and go, which I love to do, along with watching all the people in the street below. When I grow up, I want to have an orphanage with an amazing porch on the roof! Really, it’s that great!

But then, I figured it was time to drag the kids out of the TV room for some fresh air, which can be quite the task. So I bounded downstairs with frisbee in tow, anticipating a battle. To my surprise, Auntie had just told them all to get out of the TV room and had locked it, so I ran into a mob of moping children, pouting over the fact that they couldn’t watch their soaps. A few faces began to light up when they saw the frisbee, so I told them we could go to the field and play if they wanted. Most of us took off, only to find a soccer game already using the field. No problem, we just played in some vacant lot nearby! So, it started as another game of keep away, but then I decided it was time for them to learn Ultimate frisbee. Several of the girls wanted to play as well, which was a blast, as usually they don’t! After explaining and re-explaining and demonstrating the rules, we started the game, and they LOVED it! They caught on relatively quickly, and back and forth we went, bounding around broken bricks, holes, and trash. They were so excited when we finished, that they immediately said that next week we’ll play again (we don’t play on school nights).

Well, at this point we walked home in the setting sun, and as soon as we got home, the kids started begging me to play the “multiplication game.” You’d think it was the most amazing game in the world, the way they want to play it every day! Most of the kids are weak with basic math skills, so I’ve made a few sets of multiplication flash cards, and we’re practicing in pairs each day. A couple nights a week, I’ll mix the kids up and we’ll do it as a group competition, and they love playing! It gets rather intense at times, and we’ve had to agree that I’m the ultimate judge, and they are my minions, so they have no say in determining which team said the answer first!

After that came dinner with this amazing homemade flatbread which was kind of like puffy tortillas. It was so good. Sooo good. And then up to my room for a few hours until bed. Well, soon my room was brimming with children. We maxed out at 13 in here tonight, with a game of pick-up sticks going on in one corner, a game of spades in the middle, some kids looking at pictures on Chloe’s comp that she left for Krishna, and some kids playing with iTunes on my computer. Spades?! You read right. I’ve taught 3 of the boys to play, and it was really entertaining to play with them! There was much unintentional cheating, playing spades whenever, not realizing they weren’t following suit! However, after we worked those kinks out, they really were pretty good, and they enjoyed it! Which makes me SOOOO happy! It’s definitely one of those games that I could play all night long! And the icing on the top: listening to Christmas music the whole time!!! Don’t judge me; I figure here in Nepal we won’t hear any Christmas music in the shops or on the streets for Christmas, so I need to get my fix while here at home, so October’s a perfectly reasonable time to start! That and it makes me happy :). And, it’s a great end to an amazing day that leaves you feeling incredibly thankful to be alive!!!

A Policeman in Lalitupar

2009-10-21T23:49:00.000-07:00

October 20, 2009
Often when I walk down the streets, people stare. Some smile at me, and return my greeting of “Namaste.” Some look at me with slight confusion, as though I am some sort of apparition. Others look at me with disdain, I’m guessing because of their assumption that I’m a Christian and am here on His behalf. While watching the kids play soccer today (I was tired and needed to breathe), a man sitting nearby said hello in English! Surprised at the chance for adult conversation in English (the first time since Chloe left almost 3 weeks ago), I moved over and said hello back. We went through the small talk of where I’m from, how long I’ve been here, how long I’m staying, and where I’m living. He was incredibly surprised that I’m a teacher, and said he figured I was a university student (go figure!). I asked him where what he did, and he told me that he’s a policeman.

To be a policeman is dangerous at times in the US, but nothing compared to here in Nepal. With the Maoist uprising from ’96 to ’06, the war was between the police and the Maoists for the most part. The Maoists bombed many police stations, and killed hundreds of police. Here in Kathmandu and the surrounding areas, there were many “shoot out’s” between the rebels and the Police. He saw more than his share of violence and death, and a weary look covered his face as he thought back over those years. With a breath of relief, he stated that today things are better, though, as the fighting has stopped for the most part. There are still pockets of dispute, but his risk is much lower now.

He also feels less risk because he works at a Hindu temple, and the Maoists would almost certainly not bomb one of their own temples. He told me that if I ever come visit it, I will have to let him know, and he will give Prokesh and I a full tour (Prokesh is the one who typically takes us around to visit places; he’s the one who took Chloe and I to Ghorka). I gave him my e-mail address, and he said that he’d love to keep talking over e-mail. Hopefully, he gets to see some light through our conversation and God opens a door for talk of Jesus between him and Prokesh if they get the chance to meet each other!

Punam... a girl beyond her years!

2009-10-21T23:47:00.000-07:00

October 19, 2009
Punam is like a mother to all the other children. She’s 15 years old but she seems far beyond her years. She’s an amazing cook, a diligent student, and a faithful leader of the kids. She doesn’t always live here as she’s trying to complete her schooling (she’s in her final year of school) and she needed more time to study, but she stays here over holiday’s and breaks.

Punam has several brothers and sisters, and her mom lives nearby. However, when she was small, she felt a distance growing between her and her parents who she felt did not love her like they loved their other children. Looking back, she believes this was God’s work, as when she was young she voluntarily moved into Pastor Krishna’s hostel, even though her family is Hindu.

While living in Krishna’s home, she began to hear of the love of God and to partake in the love of a family and parents. Pastor Krishna and his wife showed her the love of parents for the first time, and she began to feel like she was wanted. Over time, Jesus grew the seed of faith in Punam’s heart, growing her into a daughter of faith! While the angels were rejoicing over her decision, on earth there is much anger and hatred over her decision. When she told her mother of her decision and tried to speak with her about the works of Jesus, her mother told her that she would be better off if Punam had not been born, or was dead. The wounds of her mother’s wounds have left scars that cut deep into her heart, but Punam continues to pray that one day her mother will change.

While talking with me, Punam described a dream she had a few months ago, explaining that she rarely dreams much less remembers her dreams. She told me that she was standing by a large lake, and there was a man dressed in white, calling her to come to Him. She explained to Him that she could not swim and could not make it. So, He came and took her hand and told her that He is with her and would walk with her on the water. Amazed, I asked her if she’d ever heard the story of Peter walking on the water. Confused, she said that she hadn’t. So, we pulled out our Bibles and read from Matthew about Peter walking on the water to Jesus. As I read aloud, her eyes grew larger and larger, wonder and amazement etched into her face. When I finished, she said, “Sister, I’ve never read this before! This was like my dream!” We talked about how in Jesus all things are possible, and that He walks with us through the storms and on the water!

This led us into another discussion, as she began to describe to me some of the teachers at school. I don’t know them well, and I imagine they’re different around me than they are around the students. But, before I arrived to teach in the school, Punam explained that many of the teachers were very vocal in their hatred of Christians. Their English teacher went so far as to state that all Christians should be grouped together and killed. Needless to say, Punam was angry beyond belief, and had to keep herself from jumping up and shouting at her teacher. We went back to Matthew 5, where Jesus talks about how Punam’s reward is great because her teacher is persecuting her because of Jesus. She took comfort in that, and looked at me and said, “He’s not like that so much anymore though.” I asked her what had caused the change, and she said that when I came to work in the school, all the teachers stopped saying things about Christians, and even began to treat her with some dignity. Extremely surprised, I told her that I’d never talked with any of them about Jesus. She laughed and said “But you wear a cross and live with us. That makes you a Christian here.” Then she told me that this English teacher had also asked for a Bible (Laxuman had asked me for one to give to a teacher, but I had no idea the background of this teacher) and was reading it. God moves in incredible ways, and as Mark 4 says, God will grow His kingdom whether we sleep or wake, and it’s in His hands! I never thought that God bringing me here would bring rest from persecution for the kids, but I am so thankful that He has! Pray that God would continue to work in the hearts of these teachers, as they look to the kids for answers about Jesus and Christianity!

2009-10-19T22:55:00.000-07:00

October 18, 2009
We had a four day weekend this weekend because of the Hindu holiday Tihar. It’s the festival of lights I think, and there are “Christmas” lights up everywhere with these little lamps burning. It’s actually really pretty, though it’s sad that it’s to call on the Hindu god. But, I’m totally ok with having a 4 day weekend, as we won’t have another shortened week until December 4th (yeah, you better enjoy your Thanksgiving!). It’s back to 6 day school weeks for us :)

But, as we don’t have school these 4 days, the kids had the brilliant idea of going for a walk in the mornings. Wait, did they say walk? Oh, let me translate. That means, let’s go out at 5 am and run hard for 3-4 minutes and then walk for 3-4 and repeat 6 or 7 times. It’s actually really refreshing, though it was quite a surprise on the first day! We do that until about 5:45 when we go back home, and the kids do their duties and we have devotionals/prayer meeting. Then, Shiva looks at me like a little kid (he’s 15!) and says, “Sister, football?!” So, as the children have finished their duties, we round up the boys (the girls are widgems as Chloe would say, meaning pansies who are always “paining”) and we’re off to our little makeshift soccer field.

The mornings are quite cool, making for really enjoyable soccer weather. Most of the boys have on flip flops (several of which are broken), and they roll up their pants as high as they’ll go on their legs, making a very humorous picture! Shiva’s by far the best, but the other boys aren’t bad either. We pick teams, and start playing on the dew laden ground, dancing around earthworms and trash. It’s usually 3 on 3, and within seconds, everyone’s covered in a fine layer of dirt and mud! Today, though, I went out for awhile as I had a mixture of blood in with the dirt and mud and wanted to ensure it was “ok,”, so Prabin says, “Sister, I can use your shoes?” My feet are much bigger than his, but I happily agreed and he looked slightly like a clown as he put on the first one. Then, Rajkumar ran over and said “Sister, I get the other one!” So they split them. I’m so not kidding. It was amazing. They each had one tennis shoe and one flip flop.

I go back into the game about 10 minutes later, and tell them to keep the shoes, because they’re enjoying them so much. So now I’m playing barefoot soccer without any sort of leg protective gear beyond the layer of dirt guarding my legs, and let me tell you, it was quite the experience. I don’t think my legs have ever known that sort of pain. First off, we were playing on a mixture of dirt, rocks and weeds, leading to a general pain throughout my feet. Then, when kicking the ball without shoes on, it leads to a whole new level of pain, especially since the cold air is keeping the bones rigid. Finally, I played goalie most of the game, which was great, because all the kids except Shiva were afraid of me kicking them with the ball (I can kick the ball a lot harder than them, and once I knocked one of the little boys over with the ball!).

Well, as life would have it, Shiva charged down the field with the ball, and I figured it was in my best interest to charge him (for my Aggie soccer friends, this might sound familiar!), and he kicked the ball with his might, and it slammed into my shin bouncing away. I thought my legs had known pain before, but no, they’d never known pain! My shin and calf turned this lovely red color, visible even under the dirt! Grimacing underneath my grin, I assured them that I was fine. Arun came bounding back in his gangly way to invite me to play forward. I said absolutely not, as I wanted to do as little running as possible! We finished up our game (they won, but only by one goal!), and limped home like street dogs. As we gathered around the well to wash our legs off, we managed to scrub off all the dirt, after seeing all the fun we had obviously had (dirt tells all), the girls decided they needed in on the action. So in the evening, out we went again, me with 15 kiddos, to play soccer on a volleyball field. Oh the joys of soccer!

Soccer and a Surprise!!!

2009-10-19T22:54:00.000-07:00

October 16, 2009
It’s a beautiful day in Lalitpur, the district in Kathmandu where we live. There’s a hint of a breeze in the cool evening air, and the golden rays of sun are edging toward the other side of the world. A perfect night for soccer... errrr, football! There’s this “field” in the sense that there’s this large oval shaped dirt patch with weeds growing around it 2 minutes from our house. I think back in the day it was a volleyball court, but, obviously someone found a better use for it! The goals on one end are these large, cement tunnel things that look like the drain pipes they put under the roads in America. I think someone forgot them years ago from their aged looks! The other end just has two large rocks, and if you’re not watching where you run, you’ll probably break your foot, or your leg, or both.

Shiva yells, “Sister! Let’s go!” So I grab my tennis shoes (I need as much advantage as I can get playing with these barefooted opponents!) and we head off to the field along with Rajkumar and Prabin. We take over the field from a bunch of bikers (I think we were nice about it?! they can ride in the street anyway), and Shiva says, “Sister, you’re on my team.” I look at him and ensure that he realizes that this will mean he’ll be on the losing team. He just laughs. So we’re off. And in as much as I think I’m bad (and I’m in no way good!), I remember more than I thought from college and manage to steal the ball from Rajkumar a fair number of times. Now to be fair to him, he’s 12 years younger than me, but still! Once I steal the ball, Shiva knows to yell “Sister!” and I’ll do my best to kick it to him. I actually had some nice backward kicks and managed to stop and reverse the ball fast enough to leave Rajkumar behind and score one goal! We actually dominated that game!

But, where there are footballs, there will be Nepali boys (don’t ask where all the girls are. I’ve never seen a girl playing soccer out there!). Slowly but surely a crowd gathers and our game turns into a much much more competitive match with guys flaunting Shiva’s quickness and skill. I saw a boy on the sideline wistfully watching, and I was about to die, so I generously asked him if he wanted in for me. His eyes lit off and he dove in. I actually had as much fun watching as I did playing, which isn’t something I can often say. I know some pretty fantastic soccer players in the US, and I’m pretty sure that a match between them and this ragamuffin Nepali team might go in favor of the Nepalis!

We walk home as the last rays of sunlight walk towards tomorrow, tired but happy. When we get home, Asha comes flying out of the house, “Sister! SISTER!” “Yes?!” “The lady at the post office called! Your package is here! Your package is here! Hurry Hurry!!!” So we spend about 5 minutes debating whether to go tonight (It’s already 5 till 6 and I have no idea how long the post office is open), but after minimal convincing that we’d be fast enough (I was really excited to get a package, let me tell you! we’ve been wondering where this package has been for the last 2 weeks!!!), I grab my bag and passport and we’re off again, this time with Asha and Laxuman but no Rajkumar.

Imagine the fastest you’ve ever walked and multiply that times ten. Now imagine a busy highway with no stoplights and very loose guidelines of traffic and pitch black surroundings and you have one intense walk. We’re darting about in between cars (all dressed in dark colors; I clearly wasn’t thinking!), and to be honest I’m really glad there’re three boys and two girls. We make the 40 minute walk in around 30 minutes and to our excitement the post office is still open. So we pile through the door, dripping with sweat and brimming with eagerness. I ask the lady behind the desk if I can pick up my package and give her my passport, and she looks at it and goes and picks up this lonely piece of paper. She walks back and has me sign this book, and then tells us that we have to go to the general post office because I have to present my passport to claim it or something like that.

We wilt like morning-glories at 3 pm, and take the paper and turn to leave. Laxuman says what we’re all thinking, “We walked that fast for a piece of paper?!” I laughed and said, “I guess so. But I’ll be able to pick up my package next Wednesday, so it’s ok! Let’s go home now.” Unimpressed with my route (the only one I know, and the one Uncle showed me), the boys lead us through this maze of very very dark uninhabited roads through who knows where to get us home. True to their word it’s faster (but only by like 5 minutes), but they failed to mention the fact that it’s the most complicated (and slightly scary) route ever! But, we made it home, and now we wait till Wednesday, when I have to figure out how to get to the general post office...

Sitting in on Quirky Conferences

2009-10-15T01:36:00.000-07:00

October 14, 2009
When I was little, I hated Barbies. To this day, they’re pretty close to pond scum. But I used to love playing “house,” or pretending I was the teacher in a school and Liesl was my student (along with some of our neighbor kids... fitting, right?! it’s the bossiness in me!) or making my American doll go to school. Today, I felt as though I was playing dress up once again. Auntie’s officially made me the guardian as far as school goes, so I got to sit through 15 conferences today. Exciting, right?

So, to start off, 8 of the 15 kids are passing everything. Not a great percentage. Of the 7 who are failing, 7 are failing math. Yep, it’s the most commonly failed subject around here :\. Then, you add to that 12 other failed classes between my failing students, and you have a LOT of catching up to do. Well, this was enough for a lengthy conversation, but to my utter confusion, about halfway through the conference, the principal (aka my boss) looks at me and says, “What is your weight?” Through his thick accent and my assumption that his question had something to do with me helping the students pass, I looked at him and asked him to repeat the question. Still not comprehending, I finally asked him to spell it. “W-e-i-g-h-t.” So I told him, but I added that I only know my weight in pounds, so he’d have to convert it. He jotted it down on a piece of paper, and then went right back into the conference. Strange and slightly unnerving to say the least!

Then, when the older kids were in for their conference, he suddenly says, “Where is my Bible?” Well, we all looked confused, as we’re all pretty sure he’s Hindu. He knows the children are Christians, though, and he wanted them to swear on a Bible that they would do better next term. The kids jumped in and said, “No, we cannot swear on the Bible because God has told us not to take oaths.” Which led into a discussion of Catholicism vs. Protestants. Explain that difference to a Hindu in a nation where Catholics don’t exist! I don’t even know how he knew there were two branches! So finally, he tells the children to pray to their God that they will do better next term. Well, let me tell you that I’ll be praying, because then he looked at me and said “With you at home with them, they should all be passing next term!” Now, I’m not saying it isn’t possible, but I have one girl failing SIX classes, one boy failing four, and another failing three. The other four are just failing the one or two. That’s a LOT of catch-up work to do, and there’s only one of me and 15 of them! But I just smiled and said, “We’ll do our best!”

Laxuman... a rising musician

2009-10-14T00:17:00.000-07:00

October 13,2009
Laxuman might be my favorite kid to laugh with. His eyes twinkle like diamonds protruding out of mud while his grin rivals a banana! He’s the one who says “You know why, sister? Because of Gravity!” He also is an AMAZING guitarist, playing off of 12 lessons in which he learned fingerings. For a 14 year old kid, scratch that, for any age player, he’s really really gifted! And he has the patience and eagerness to teach me Nepali songs while I teach him English ones. This might be one of my most favorite activities!

Laxuman is the only boy in his family, and has 3 sisters- 2 older, 1 younger. I use the term family rather loosely... his sisters and mom are who he considers family. His father has at least one other wife, but Laxuman suspects that it’s more like many other wives. When I asked him about his dad, the glistening tears betrayed the strength he tried to hold onto. I could feel his pain in my own heart as he explained that his sisters and himself had never meant anything to his father; they didn’t even know where he was. He emphatically added that he will have ONE wife and care for his children!

When I asked more about his mom and sisters, his face lit back up. They’re all believers, and his two older sisters work here in Kathmandu. His younger sister is 5, so she still lives with his mom in Pokarah, a 7 hour bus ride away. In their village there’s a church of about 20 people from all around the area. When at home, Laxuman loves to teach guitar and drum lessons (did I mention he’s a phenomenal drummer?!) to people in the church. When I asked him if they paid for them, he looked at me in amazement and said, “Sister! They’re Christians! Why would I take money from them?!” And I just laughed and agreed. Here, the Christian family is more like what I would imagine it was like back in Acts. Most are poor, but their needs are all met. If you render a service to a brother/sister, then they’ll often pay you back with rice, guava, fruit, etc.

Laxuman wants to be a musician when he grows up, and he’ll get the guitar when I leave. He’s great about working with the other kids on guitar, but often he’ll go out on the roof and sit and play and sing for hours on end. He’s the only kid who’s allowed to keep the guitar overnight; he treasures it like a firstborn baby! Let me contrast it with his old guitar (which no longer is useable...): His old guitar has a hole in the back of it, it is electrical taped together in places, the bridge (I think that’s what it’s called?!) is made of paper he shaped to hold the strings in place, and some of the knobs for tuning the strings don’t work. Add to that the fact that since I’ve arrived the entire neck has pulled away from the body, leaving a 2 inch gap between the strings and the body of the guitar, and it definitely doesn’t work at all (sorry for those non-musicians reading this; those who know about guitar will appreciate the horrific state of this guitar!)! One day I expect to receive a CD in the mail of songs he’s recorded... In the meantime, I’ll just continue recording his songs with my camera!

My life as Maria in the Sound of Music...

2009-10-10T23:34:00.000-07:00

October 10, 2009
A little background: The girls have this hair dye/bleach stuff that they use to “lighten” the color of their black hair. Essentially, it makes their hair have red highlights. Well, at school last week, the principal told the students that he didn’t want to see any red in their hair (understand, this red was incredibly faint. How he even noticed, I don’t know!) because BLACK hair is the national color of Nepal, and red hair is for countries like America (great, right?!).

Well, Manisha had the most red in her hair of the girls, and this weekend she decided to fix it. By using pen ink. And the boys decided to help her! While I was talking with some of the girls in my room, the boys were liberally applying black fountain pen ink to her hair straight from the jar, and laughing as the color ran down her skin. Their reasoning: “Oh Manisha, it will wash off! Just let us finish your hair!” So, afterwards she goes to wash her hands and face, only to find that it won’t come off. At all.

So a distraught Manisha flies into my room, with black hands and a black face, saying, “Sister! What can I do to get this off?! If Auntie sees me, I will be in so much trouble! And if it’s not gone by school tomorrow, I’ll really be in trouble!” In shock, I said, “What in the world were you doing?!” And a long tale of how the boys “helped” her tumbled from her mouth. I sent her into my bathroom, and had her try to use Purell and hand-soap to scrub the ink off her skin with an old tooth brush (I had no idea what to use to remove pen ink!). About 45 minutes later, she came out, skin back to a slightly darker shade of brown than usual, but not noticeable unless you were looking for it.

Problem being: there was still ink in her hair. So, off she scurried to the girls’ bathroom, and I gave her some shampoo, the Purell, and hand-soap, and told her to use all three to try to get the excess ink out. She spent probably another 30 minutes in there scrubbing her hair, and finally she emerged, black hair without a trace of red, and brown skin without a trace of black. Relieved, she tiptoed back into my room to return all 3 bottles, and we all agreed that she looked “normal” once more! It reminded me of the scene where Liesl climbs into Maria's window, soaking wet, and has to dry off in there before going back to bed :). Insert pen ink for rain and the stories are practically identical!

Learning math... beyond college!

2009-10-10T23:33:00.001-07:00

October 9, 2009
I think I maybe know why I was sent here this year. Not that there had to be a reason! I mean, working with orphans for 8 months would have totally been enough, but after seeing the kids results from their last exams, I have a much clearer picture!

Here in Nepal, kids take all the tests for their classes at once, every month or month and a half. So, for a week, it’s kind of like finals, and this happens maybe 6 times a year? Well, today they all got their results from the tests they took right before we had that long holiday, and most of them did pretty well in all their classes, except one... you got it, math. Out of 15 kids, about half of them failed math. And the cutoff to pass is at 40%. So, needless to say, we have our work cut out for us!

Basically, it goes like this: I wake up and arouse 15 sleeping beauties from their sweet wonderland for morning prayers. Then, I come back to my room and read/play guitar for about an hour while they do their morning chores. Then, it’s morning math tutoring time for the next hour, helping whoever I missed the night before. Now comes the much anticipated breakfast and getting everyone ready for school. And it’s off to school for us all, and for the next 3 hours I’m continuously breaking down the math for kids who are pseudo-fluent in English. With very very heavy accents. And very different ways of saying general math operations (in the US, the word “into” typically refers to division: how many times does 3 go into 9? however, here it means multiplication, and it took me a couple days to realize that 3 into 9 really is 27 here!).

Then I walk home and spend my afternoons here without the kids preparing for teaching the next day, doing laundry, reading, whatever. Then, I pick up the younger kids 2 hours later, and we jump into a few games, waiting about an hour before study time hits. Thankfully, all the young ones are pretty decent in math; it hasn’t gotten hard yet! But once that clock hits 4 pm, it’s over for me. I do math with different kids until devotionals at 6:30, then they have dinner, then I have dinner, and by 8:15 we’re back to math. Usually for another hour or two. At this point, I’m ready to collapse. That brings us to approximately 10 hours of math, including the prep time, most of which is tutoring 3-4 different math classes at the same time!

Oh, did I mention that we DON’T use calculators?! Yeah. We’re taking the fifth roots of 5 digit numbers by reducing them to their prime factors and then going from there. I don’t think I can explain how well I’m learning math at this point. I thought I knew it when I got here, and yes, I know all the processes and such, but the mental math is a new game for me! I realize now that not only am I (hopefully) helping the kids with math (we’re aiming for a 100% pass rate next round of tests in a month and a half), but my understanding is growing exponentially! Pretty awesome all around :).

Rupa, the golden fairy...

2009-10-10T23:30:00.000-07:00

October 7, 2009
Rupa is my fellow blond haired girl. And by blond hair, I mean that her hair is as white as white gets. She makes me look Nepali. All because she’s an albino Nepali. She has all the same features of Nepali girls, same face shape, long hair, same voice, but she looks completely different. I think she looks beautiful! But she hates being different than her peers, and when people talk about how beautiful Nepali people are, she often ducks her head and glances away.

Rupa has a mother and father who have 5 other children. She is the youngest, so there were probably financial reasons for sending her here. Depending on the beliefs of her family, though, she could be considered a lower caste due to the way she looks. I do know that she loves her family and misses them!

Around the house, you’ll find Rupa furiously sweeping out the girls room with a broom made of sticks or cleaning the floors with an old holey t-shirt! Her long blond hair swishes as she works, and she often graces the air with sweet singing, usually some song we’ve sung in church. She tends to wear a golden Kotessera around the house, which gives further rise to the other children’s nickname for her, “Golden fairy,” which she hates because it exemplifies her differences. The other children mean it purely in love, though, as she really is beautiful! Pray that she’d learn to see that in herself!

She is a diligent student, though she struggles some with English reading and writing. She loves to study at the foot of her bunk bed, curled around her books, pencil scratching the paper with a drowsy rhythm. When the power goes out in the evenings, she’ll move to the doorway of the girls bunkroom, studying by the one solar powered light on our floor. Fortunately, her white hair makes her easy to see, so no one steps on her!

My biggest hope for Rupa in these next 7 months is that she would see herself as fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of our Creator! He has created her for a purpose, and making her an albino is not a curse but a blessing! Pray that she would feel loved and cherished not just by God, but also by her family here :).

Now You Know...

2009-10-08T00:03:00.000-07:00

October 7, 2009
Advice from the Himalayas... some obvious, some interesting, some funny, all real!
1) Advice from Kyle Berlin: You don’t have to eat the food if it will make you sick, even if it offends someone. Really. It’s true.
2) Advice from Hannah Grafe: BRING PEANUT BUTTER! In a society that lives strictly off of carbs, the protein is much appreciated! Just a spoonful a day makes you strong and happy... especially if it’s the Crunchy Honey kind!
3) If you give a kid a camera, they will take 1,000 pictures, or however many your memory card holds, in less than two hours. Upon looking at them, you will find that there are about 30 of the floor, 30 of the sky, and every other picture is blurry beyond recognition. But it’s a GREAT rainy day activity! Just make sure they wear the wristband!!!
4) If your boss invites you to a party, the invitation is really just for show. You will go. And when he says “There will be a little food there,” he means there will be an 8 course meal! But they will serve Orange Crush, or the Nepali version of it!
5) If you see bugs crawling in your food, it’s ok to pick them out. They’re not meant to be eaten. And try not to think about them!
6) When you hear squeaks in the night, just say, “The Lord is my Shepherd” over and over again! And hopefully no mouse or rat crawls over you while you sleep.
7) Sleep with your mouth closed. Always. Otherwise, lizzards/mice/rats might crawl in during the night. If you have a cold, well, I’d choose suffocation over the chance of a reptile making itself at home in my oral cavity!
8) Get used to being dirty. When the water you bathe with is browner than the dirt on your body, showing doesn’t seem like that big of a deal! Oh, and washing with a bucket is much harder than it sounds ;).
9) Yes, goats do ride on the top of busses. Or cars. Or wherever. And people walk their sacred cows with red paint in between their horns. Kinda sad...
10) If the power goes out, and you have a laptop, play “kid-bop” praise music, and the kids will flock in. We had a rockin’ party going for an hour tonight with 15 kids in my room singing and dancing to “Every Move I Make,” “Mercy if Falling,” and so many more!
11) Speaking of power going out, keep your flashlight in the same place at all times. And always keep everything charged, so if the power does go out, you can still take pictures (or hand the camera to Raju) and listen to music!
12) It’s totally OK to throw trash on the side of the street. Or off the roof. Or burn stuff in the street. Really. It’s expected.
13) If you think people look at you a lot walking down the street in jeans and a t-shirt, they look at you a whole whole whole lot more if you dress like they do in a Kotessera. Then, add a tiny 7 year old Raju’s hand engulfed in your white hand, and heads will spin!
14) Wear your clothes for a very very long time before washing them; it’s too much work to wash very often!
15) If you get ink on your hands/arms from refilling pens, just rub it in the nearest kid’s hair; their hair is black enough to hide it! Or so they tell me...
16) Admire the beauty of God’s creation! The mountains tell of His Glory...

Teacher, Sister, Guardian... You name it, I do it!

2009-10-05T23:43:00.000-07:00

October 5, 2009
I like hats. Baseball caps, those cool French ones, winter beanies, my trademark “Anneliese” hats, etc. Colorful, simple, whatever. Well, today I started teaching. Which meant that overnight I went from one hat- being the kids sister and friend- to 3 hats-still their sister and friend, but also their guardian in terms of school (until Krishna returns), and their teacher! My days are suddenly very full!

Today was my first day teaching. As I went through my devotional this morning, I just had to give it to God! Which was definitely where I needed to be. You see, 2 of the 3 books the principal had given me weren’t the right ones, and I still have a hoarse voice and the remnants of a cold. But, I arrived at school, all dressed up in my Kotessera, feeling calm. I was definitely sure that Jesus was holding me up :). And the principal gave me a roll book and told me to copy the names, and then took it and had me sign in. He gave me a dry erase marker and sent me to my first classroom. Nothing like a good leap off a cliff to start the day!

In Nepal, we start the day every day with a short assembly, basically, their anthem, stretches, etc. And all the kids are lined up, with their homeroom teacher in front of them. Imagine a time when everyone stopped and stared at you. Maybe you dropped your tray in the cafeteria, maybe you tripped and feel in front of the boss, whatever. Now in your imagination, make EVERYONE else Nepali, dark haired, brown skinned, shorter. Now, everyone’s staring intently because you have blond hair, light brown skin (we’re really all different shades of brown, but try explaining that to a Nepali kid!), and you’re pretty tall for a woman. Yep, that was the assembly. Pretty great, right?! And I had no clue what was going on... which I think was rather obvious to everyone :).

But then I went up to my first class, and my kids here at the home had told me that all of their classes were horrible, so I had no idea what to expect! But, to my ecstatic surprise, the kids were incredibly well behaved (probably because I’m white. and new. but maybe it will last?!). So I asked one to show me what page they were on before the break, and off we went! I think they’re not used to my “Why is this true? What do we do next? Why?” method of teaching, but I think they enjoyed the fact that they could answer as many questions as they could! I guess I’m not one for a silent classroom :).

In Nepal, the teacher’s move classrooms, and not the students, so after 45 minutes, this rapid fire banging happens and the teachers are supposed to move. I had no idea where to go, and thankfully the principal came up to show me my next class. My next 2 classes were very similar to my first, except they were much smaller. The students all take notes in one notebook, and do all their homework in another. I collect the homework notebooks at the start of each class, take them with me and grade them after 3rd period. Then, before I leave, I go back to each classroom and return them. I guess it’s nice that I’ll never have to take home papers to grade! Oh, and I don’t record any of the grades. I just check if it’s right or wrong. Pretty great, right?! And my kids from home were so funny. They’d accidentally call me “sister” and then turn as red as a Nepali can, and quickly say “I mean Miss!” I really wasn’t too concerned; their classmates found it rather humorous!

So, then we go home, and it’s back to the sister hat, which is fun. We hang out, play guitar, play cards, throw shoes at each other from the roof balconies (it might not be safe or nice, but it really is fun! I promise!), etc. Raju runs off with my camera, taking hundreds of photos, knowing if he takes the wristband off I’ll cut off his hand. The girls and many of the boys flock to watch some “fantastic” Nepali tv show. It’s our relaxed time :).

But now, I have to put on the “mother” hat. Around 4:30, I run around saying over and over, “Ok, homework and studies! You’ve got till I get back here to have out your books! Do I need to move you to another room?! Quit taking his pens!” Quite a task when you’re talking about 15 kids (some of the older girls have moved back home to finish school). But I get them settled, and threaten to move some more of them, but most are working diligently. Well, I think they are. I actually can’t read a lot of what they have to write, but the characters look pretty! And they’re quietly working, for the most part :). Then comes the frantic running around as kids need help with math. “sister. Sister. SISTER!” “Ajure?! Ajure?!” Which means, “What?! What?!” At one point Rupa asked me if she was allowed to use the toilet. And I burst out laughing, realized that my threats had worked, and told her that of course she could use the toilet! And as we finish homework, one by one, I slowly go back to being sister, chasing after Darson and Rajkumar, talking with Rami and Manisha, trudging through very very very broken conversation with Didi. A good way to end the day .

A Rough Day in Nepal...

2009-10-04T02:14:00.000-07:00

October 4, 2009
Today’s been my first “down” day. Last night I couldn’t sleep, and I woke up this morning feeling pretty under the weather. I think I may have caught the cold the kids were so kindly sharing with one another. My throat’s a little achy and my body aches like I got beat up. But Chloe said if anyone was prepared for a medical situation, it would be me (I probably have Nepal’s largest pharmacy right here in my room). So, I’m a little drugged up, and I’ll definitely be taking some stuff to knock me out tonight! This whole not getting a full nights sleep just won’t do! So, that would be my first prayer request... the kids are all worried I caught swine flu from my brother- never mind the fact that he’s in the US and caught it over 2 weeks after I left! I’m just saying... ;) They’re threatening to wear face masks to make sure they don’t get it; actually, I think that’d be awesomely funny! Probably healthier too.

And Chloe left today, which is hugely sad. My rooms just not the same without her :(. From spoons to Speed to Uno, we had a great time with the kiddos. Not to mention the fact that she’s great on the guitar, speaks ENGLISH as her native language, and we enjoyed bouncing theological questions off each other! AND I have an awesome new repertoire of words to use on a daily basis: “Quit your whenging” (Quit your complaining), “We have stacks of crayons” (We have tons of crayons), and more that may have crept into my vocab :). She’s spending another 6 weeks at another orphanage here in Nepal, run by a non-Christian group. Should be really interesting for her!

AND I finally heard from the principal of the kids’ school. Great, because we start back tomorrow. And I will indeed be teaching math; Grades 5, 6, and 7, though those don’t line up with the American system at all! To put it into perspective, the stuff I was teaching freshmen in the US I’ll be teaching to the grade 5 kiddos. Most of them will be 12-14 years old. So, I think it’s kind of comparable. The catch: Nepal isn’t on the Aribic numeral system that the West uses. Yeah, they’re on the Devanagari system. To make things even more complicated, my 9 is like their 1, my 6 is their 7, and 4, 5, 6, 8, and 9 are totally different. Thankfully, 2, 3, and 0 are close to the same. So, I would so appreciate prayers over this as well! It might take me a few days (weeks?!) to get my feet underneath me! But I do have the books, so guess what I’ll be doing the rest of the day?! Math, here I come!

Raju, my long lost Nepali brother

2009-10-04T02:12:00.000-07:00

October 2, 2009
Raju. It kind of sounds like Roger, but instead of “er” on the end, there’s an “oo” sound. He’s seven with the stature of a five year old (on a good day!) and speaks minimal English. And by minimal, I mean, he can say, “My name is Raju” and “I am fine, how are you?” Our levels of communication are limited at best! BUT, we still find ways to enjoy each other...

Raju came back today after being gone for Dashain the last 2 weeks. As he worked his way up the stairs, gripping the railing that’s almost above his head, he stopped and peeked in my door. My surprise and excitement could not be contained as I exclaimed, “Raju!” and flashed him a big grin! A big, dimpled grin lit up his little face, stretching his cheeks as far as was physically possible. Then he turned and continued his hike upstairs to the boys room.

As my excitement of the kids returning got the best of me, I came clambering after him. He had already deposited his backpack in his cubby, and was out on the roof, having pulled himself up on the thick cement railing and was resting on his stomache, his feet dangling off the ground, mesmerized at the view he had so missed the past 2 weeks! His huge grin never left his face, and he clutched a 5 rupee note in his hand as if it were the most precious jewel! He turned to look at me, and I scooped him up and turned him upside down, and a quite giggle escaped his throat!

Upon returning him to his correct state of being, he turned and walked toward the black spiral staircase up to the chicken coop. He slowly climbed the stairs, turning to look at me every few steps, contemplating the existence of chicken poop on the stairs (a few have escaped the past 2 weeks) and then proceeded to climb over the gate (I guess he didn’t realize you can just push it open)! If it’s possible, his grin got even wider as he gazed on the chickens. He looked at me and simply said, “Hen.” I laughed and replied, “Cuckara.” He grinned and with the twinkle in his eye that little boys get when they’re about to do something they probably shouldn’t do, he turned and ran towards one, hands out, laughter spilling from his mouth and eyes. The hen squawked and dove under the hen house for cover (I’m still not sure that they don’t realize that the day they get caught, they’ll never come back!). Mesmerized, he ran towards another, causing a whole cluster of them to entangle feathers as they scurried for safety, out of the reach of this grubby handed 7 year old!

I think this might paint the best picture I could possibly paint for Raju. He reminded me today of coming home after a long time away; everything’s so familiar and missed and yet seems so foreign and new! A boy of few words until he gets warmed up, but a joy and light shine forth from his oversized grin and his twinkling eyes! He loves to play dominoes with Chloe and I, and bears the brunt of being the smallest of all the children. He’s also the newest, having arrived just months ago. When his big eyes look up at you, you just want to pick him up, squeeze him, and take him home! Oh, and Prokesh says that we look like brother and sister, says we have the same face! Go figure...

Wash that clothes...

2009-10-04T02:11:00.001-07:00

October 2, 2009
Let it never again be said that I am an unproductive person before breakfast. In the past this may have been true; no more! Of course, the fact that we get up before 6 and don’t eat breakfast until after 9 might have something to do with that, but it’s negligible. Really.

So, I went for my first run today as the sun rose! At an altitude of over 4000 feet, I think I did pretty good! First off, I managed to go out, turn randomly, running down unknown streets because while I may not understand all those cool little hieroglyphics things they call letters, I can understand the maps posted on most “corners,” and I have certain landmarks that I’ve memorized: the internet shop (how else would you read this?!), the Christian market shop (a little far to walk, but so worth it!), and the butchery (use your imagination. really.). So as long as I can make it back to one of these locations, I’m great! And I totally did. Honestly, as long as I don’t cross a major road, I know I’m fine getting back to the house!

Later, I decided to do some laundry. Well, you probably have quite the wrong picture in your head when you hear laundry. To your imagination, a large, probably white, beautiful machine comes into view, with this cylinder in which the clothes magically enter dirty and come out clean, at just the touch of a button! Or maybe you’re a little old school, and you begin to see a washboard and bucket. But you’re still not there. We wash using our bare hands. Ok, well, we use soap (it comes in bars) and a scrub brush. Not even kidding. I’m getting good at it too; the girls told me so!

So, you wet your clothes (with water you pulled up from the well) and squat (flat-footed; I still use the softball catcher’s position on the balls of my feet, but I’m trying to change!) and one at a time you lather them good with that soap. It smells like lemons. Mmmmmm.... Anyway, after lathering, you scrub the durable ones (jeans, shorts, t-shirts, whatever can handle it) with a brush. Then they’re all wringed out, and over and over and over you rinse in bucket after bucket after bucket of water. You think working out at the Y is hard?! Try washing just half a “load” of clothes; your biceps will swell, your back will ache, and your calves will burn as they’ve never burned before! If you noticed that I seem to be wearing the same clothes in many pictures, they really weren’t all taken on the same day; I can wear my clothes for... well, I’d tell you but then my parents would think they’d failed me as a child, so I’ll leave that to your imagination!

But today wasn’t just clothes. Ok, imagine big old area rugs. Yeah, those maroon ones, the tan ones, the green ones, whatever comes to mind, with their pretty floral prints. Now, it’s bad enough to clean them by hand, but today we washed two of them- by hand. Not even kidding. It took six of us girls to get them done. We wet, soap, lather, scrub, rinse, soap, lather, scrub, rinse, scrape, rinse, hold vertically, rinse, rinse, rinse. It was actually a lot of fun, because with a job that big, water gets tossed on each other, soap suds are flying off brushes into hair, and feet are slipping on those beautiful white bubbles! We’re pretty much awesome, I know. You WISH you could wash area rugs by hand. Ok, probably not even a little bit. But if your steam cleaner goes out, you know who to call. On second thought ;)....

So, that went on for two and a half hours (breakfast was about an hour late!), and then we dragged them up 3 floors of stairs to the roof! And there they lay now, basking in the sunlight/clouds, laughing at the intense work they caused us. Thankfully, I think it will be another 3 months before that happens again. Unfortunately, if you do the calendar math, that puts us in January. When it’s really really really cold. Actually, I’m not going to think about that now. It makes my fingers hurt. And I may never purchase an area rug for my home. Unless it comes with a steam cleaner. Then, maybe...

Spoons: A game of cards, laughter, and blood.

2009-10-01T23:17:00.000-07:00

October 1, 2009
Where to start, where to start! Today we woke up early to see Uncle Krishna off. He’s leaving for England and will stay there for a month. In addition, Chloe is leaving on Sunday, so, life could get exciting here. And by that, I mean, no one over the age of 16 to talk to. Not that that’s bad, just, ummm different!

But after he left, we ate breakfast and then Chloe and I walked to the Post Office with Asha in tow. She’s the only one left who will go walking with us :). Although, the other girls have now figured out that every time Asha goes with us somewhere, we get some sort of treat on the way home! I imagine my walking partners might increase in number soon! But, after the 90 minute round trip walk (yeah, it’s a little far!), we came home to find most of the children zonked out in front of the TV. If you thought American channel surfing was bad, imagine surfing through Nepali, Indian, Chinese, Korean, and English channels. All in a matter of seconds. It’s enough to drive Chloe and I away after a matter of minutes!

But Laxuman was outside washing the car, so I opted to join him. He was washing it well, but the windows remained spotty. Excited, I realized that I finally had a piece of practical knowledge to share! I bounded upstairs and grabbed one of the old newspapers off the pile from our room, and ran back downstairs. I said, “Laxuman, use this on the windows. Then there will be no streaks or mess!” With a doubtful look at me, he took a piece and started rubbing. Slowly, his doubt faded into the wide eyed trademark grin that I’ve come to know so well, and he said, “Very nice, sister! Very nice!” So we finished up, and decided that we were long overdue for a game of spoons.

So, we gathered around the table, Chloe, Laxuman, Ranjita, Asha, Joshua and I. Out came the spoon-forks (far more dangerous than spoons, let me tell you!) and the fun and shouting began. For those of you who haven’t experienced the amazingness that is Spoons, basically, you’re trying to be the first to get 4 of a kind by starting with 4 cards and passing one around the table as fast as you can. Once someone gets 4, they grab a spoon, and everyone else attempts to as well. Problem being there’s one less spoon than people. When we played the other day, we were all so nice, but today, everyone was out for blood, and blood they got! Ranjita has a scratch down her arm from the fork part of the spoon fork, and I’ve got a gash in my pinkie that’s slightly swollen! Oh, and the cheating NEVER ends! Laxuman proceeds to look at EVERYONE’S cards to see what they have and what he should collect; Asha just turns over like 30 cards and finds 4 that match if the game goes for more than about 20 seconds; Chloe discreetly trades cards with whoever’s next to her; Ranjita and Joshua tell each other in Nepali to get ready to grab a spoon because one of them’s going out; I say at the start of every game, “NO CHEATING this time!” To which everyone laughs at the thought of playing without cheating. It might be the best game EVER! I have to keep cards on hand, though, because at this rate we might destroy a deck every week!

Asha, the girl who can't get enough love...

2009-10-01T23:00:00.000-07:00

September 30, 2009
In a house full of kids, it’s easy to overlook one here and there, and miss out on knowing them each deeply. So, I’m trying to get to know each of them over the next few weeks. As many of you have prayer cards with names on them, hopefully this will be a glimpse into your children who you get to pray for each week! If you don’t have a prayer card, feel free to grab a few children as your own to pray for! No pressure :)

So, I rather enjoy cards, but did not bring any for fear that they might be frowned upon here. However, the kids know cards and enjoy them, so I quickly picked up a few decks at a local shop. And my cards partner is Asha. She is 13 years old, with long black hair and dark eyes, and is always wearing this beautiful teal blue Kotessera (it’s like a long dress shirt over flowing pants; it’s the cultural dress for women). She smiles often, and enjoys any attention she can get (who really doesn’t?!).

She’s the child that I would most quickly define as an orphan. She came to the orphanage right after it opened and has lived here for the last 8 years. From talking over cards, I’ve discovered that she has one older sister, her father, and her grandmother still living. She is from Gorkha (where I visited two weeks ago) and comes from the same village as Uncle Krishna. She has not seen her family since arriving here 8 years ago, except for one time when her father visited, around 4 years ago.

She’s the second youngest girl here, and as such, she bears the brunt of having around 18 older siblings telling her what to do :). She takes it in stride, though, and is quite the servant. She is eager to please and quick to apologize, often for things that were not her fault at all! She takes the longest getting ready for wherever we may be going; Chloe and I tell her repeatedly that she’s beautiful and needs nothing else, but I think she’s aspiring to be like her older “sisters!” She’s been the most helpful with me learning to do wash (outside, using water from a well... don’t ask me what we’ll do when it’s below freezing out! I might not want to know!), and she loves making the Nepali equivalent of Ramen noodles.

She struggles with math and Nepali in school (which I find humorous!) and excels in English and Karate (why can’t we learn cool things like Karate in school?!). She loves swinging, and when we went to the zoo, it was pouring rain at one point, which cleared out the swing, allowing her the chance to swing in the rain with Punan! While I think she’s had a painful past, my biggest goal for her this year is to shower her with God’s love and His purpose for her! And I’m beginning to think that for her, one of the biggest showers of love is a game of cards when no one else is around to play with her :). And I’m totally down with that!

Prayer meetings and Sunday School (on Monday!)

2009-09-28T23:17:00.000-07:00

September 28, 2009
Prayer meetings are often a weekly occurrence in the US. The church usually has a fraction of its members come to an hour of prayer, often on Sunday or Wednesday nights. But here, prayer services are daily, around what we would consider lunch time, and go for about an hour each. It’s kind of neat; there are guys there on break from work, women, some kids, etc. We start at 11 and usually go till about 12. Today, though, Chloe and I found out it was a special prayer service.

Right after breakfast (around 9:45), the girls enlightened us to the fact that we were going to church for a special service at 10. Well, by 10, they meant 11. But, Chloe and I had no idea, so we walked over there, only to sit in the church till 11. To be honest, I was ready for a nap! Eating straight carbs for breakfast (and dinner for that matter) leads to a big ol’ crash about 2 hours after breakfast! I suppose I’ll get used to it :). But, around 11:15, right before the praise band started playing, Uncle walked over to us and told us that he wanted us to do “Sunday School” with the kids as they would be distracting after the worship part of the service. Thankfully, he brought colors and paper with him for us to use!

So the praise band played for about 35 minutes, then we prayed and Uncle sent us downstairs with the kiddos! Well, the Nepali woman who came down with us asked, “what are we teaching the children today?” Chloe and I looked at each other, and she jumped right in and asked, “Does anyone know the story of Noah and the Ark?!” A couple of kids started wrestling for mic time, telling about the animals, the boat, the rain, the branch, etc in turn. Glad that they knew what she was talking about, she said, “Ok. Let’s draw pictures from the story!” So, the kids who understood English jumped to it, and those who didn’t watched those who did and quickly figured out that we were making rainbow animals dancing around on multi-colored boats. Not entirely sure they understood the Biblical background, but they enjoyed the colors :).

So, about 10 minutes later, the boys were finished and beginning to wrestle and pinch and hit and cause no end of commotion. So, Chloe, used to this thinking on her feet thing, said “Let’s make paper airplanes!” A FANTASTIC idea. So, they made them (that alone took like 15 minutes, showing each of them how to do it), and she took them outside while the girls and I continued to color. A few minutes later, they came jostling back in, with semi-crushed planes and laughter in tow.

We asked some of the older girls who had come downstairs if they were almost finished upstairs, since we were now pushing 12:30. “No, they’re still praying upstairs.” Well, we were both very thankful that they were so diligently praying, but we were running out of ideas of what to do with 10 children for an unknown amount of time. Seeing as how the planes seemed to be a hit (and took them a long time to learn) I jumped in and showed those interested how to make an Origami star box. This took about 20 minutes, and then we decorated them all bright like the Ark. The boys quickly realized, hey, we can use these as flying UFOs, so soon colors were swirling through the air as the boxes flew between boys. Unfortunately, the amazingness of the boxes wore off as well, and we were back to slapping, pinching, and yelling.

So, when you’ve got nothing else to do, Duck-Duck-Goose (played on your knees; running was just not an option!) is a great solution, and this game brought much laughter and occupied them for probably another 45 minutes. By that time, my knees and back were “paining” me (as the kids would say!), so I said, let’s play ANOTHER game. “Down by the banks” was my solution, and to my dismay, the kids didn’t have a song to sing in Nepali while we went around the circle slapping hands. They rather enjoyed the game though, so Chloe again had the brilliant solution of counting to ten at the end of the song, so the kids would know that if their hand got slapped on 10, they were out! They loved it, and I don’t think I’ve ever had to sing that song so many times in a row. The kids still didn’t know the song, but wanted me to sing it, so over and over and over again I sang, and then they’d count to 10. This went for another 45 minutes (they have incredibly long attention spans for ridiculous games!), and then we were relieved to find the adults had finished. This was around 3, and we had an afternoon snack at the church. Although it was a loud and sometimes a little stressful afternoon with the kids (mainly due to the short notice!), it ended up rather enjoyable, and I made some little friends :). I guess I’ll be more ready for “Sunday School” each week now!

YOU explain free will to a 14 year old Nepali!

2009-09-28T23:16:00.000-07:00

September 27, 2009
The Garden of Eden. Such a complicated and yet simple story. You have God, you have man, you have woman. Oh yeah, and that devilish snake enticing mankind to turn on their maker and creator. I understand temptation, yes, but temptation coming from a snake?! Maybe that’s why they’re so often despised and feared... Anyway, Laxuman looked at Chloe and I after dinner, and with a smile said, “Sister, I have a question.” Chloe, realizing what was coming, said “No no no, ask your other sister!” as she said to me, “Good luck explaining free will.” Sure enough, Laxuman said, “Sister, God knows everything that’s going to happen, right? So why did He put the tree and the snake in the garden? He knew that we would choose to sin!”

I have trouble with free will when talking with people from my church and Bible studies in the US; you can’t imagine the brain pain that went into explaining something I don’t fully understand to a 14 year old Nepali boy speaking English as a second language coming from a background of Hinduism! As confusing as that sentence was, I think my explanation was even more confusing for him. I tried to liken the fact that if God didn’t give us a choice, then we’d be like dolls, who go everywhere with God, but can’t really do anything on our own as we don’t have choice so how can we love God? He followed with me really well, surprisingly, but then he stated simply, “But sister, dolls aren’t alive. I am.” Analogy shot. So I kinda tried again, stumbling a bit here and there, but feeling a little better when he said, “Sister, it’s ok. My pastor and uncle Krishna can’t explain it to me either.” Chloe laughed and said, “When we get to heaven we’ll ask God, ok Laxuman?!” With a grin, he decided that for now that will have to work.

But our conversation didn’t end there. Then came, “Why did people choose to sin in the garden? They knew what God wanted, but they chose the fruit instead!” This one was a little easier. See, we’ve been fighting the battle of the motorcycle recently. There’s often a really old motorcycle parked in the house driveway, so when Uncle Krishna leaves, Laxuman will get a spoon or some other metal object and start the thing. Don’t ask me how. But waiting until Uncle leaves is key. Because, naturally, Uncle does not want a 14 year old boy playing on an old motorcycle. And it’s been hard for me to explain just why that’s wrong to him, and how we should honor those in authority over us, as Uncle is our authority.

But with that question, God gave the perfect opportunity to dive into it! So, with a grin, I said, “Laxuman, why do you wait until Uncle leaves to ride the bike?” A small look of repentance mingled with a smile of excitement as he laughed, “Because Uncle does not want me to ride it!” “But you know it’s wrong to disobey, so why do you do it?” “Oh. Well, Uncle’s not God. He doesn’t know what I’m doing.” Chloe then stepped in, saying, “Well if I kill someone, but don’t tell anyone, have I still done a bad thing?!” Sheepishly, seeing where this was going, Laxuman said, “Yes, I guess so.” She continued, “So if you’re not supposed to ride the bike without asking Uncle, and you do, but he never finds out, have you still disobeyed him?” “But Sister!” Stepping in, I added “No buts Laxuman! I imagine the same reasons you choose to ride the bike helped lead Adam and Eve to sin.” With a sigh, he accepted the answer. I don’t know how deeply it sunk in; he surprised me with the depth of his free will question, but he is still a 14 year old boy, so I won’t be too surprised if tomorrow I hear the bike roar a few minutes after Uncle leaves :).

Mmmm... Give me some of that Red Meat!

2009-09-28T23:15:00.000-07:00

September 27, 2009
“Everybody’s got a water buffalo; yours is fast and mine is slow...” Ok, well, maybe not everone has a water buffalo, but people do enjoy eating buffalo meat here. To start the adventure, Lauxman asked Chloe and I if we wanted to go with him to the butcher’s to buy some of this rare but coveted meat. And I was all game; I love buffalo in the US, so why not here, right?

Well, we walked down the street, past all the butchery’s I know and see on a daily basis, and turned onto a street I’ve never been down before. To my complete surprise (and the surprise of my stomache as well!), there, in a vacant plot of land, overgrown with weeds and overrun with wild dogs, we had set up the butcher’s shop. There was a random buffalo leg lying next to the road, and a huge (VERY unsanitary) blue tarp with over 30 piles of chopped buffalo meat, bones and all. Actually, I don’t know why that leg got left out; you eat everything here. Never mind. I don’t want to know what was so awful that even they wouldn’t eat that leg.

So, anyway, back to the piles of meat, bone, and other indiscernible pieces (I don’t know where the skin was... I didn’t ever see it)... on top of each pile was a small black bag, and Chloe and I decided it must contain the “choice” cuts of meat. And there was a man standing in the middle of the piles, smoking, and waving this stick as if to ward off the millions of flies dancing over their new find. He was losing his battle, badly! And all the while, the wild dogs were growling and fighting (real dog fights; not the Michael Vick kind. Real life, “you’ve got a bone and that’s the first bone I’ve seen in years” dog fight). So, when Lauxman finally got his 3 kg of meat for us to take home, I was more than happy to be off from that pristine butchery!

So, we get home, and Lauxman starts chopping the meat into small pieces, with the ease and skill of someone who’s done this hundreds of times before. In humor, he asked Chloe if she wanted a whack at it. She said she would, as long as we didn’t laugh at her with the knife (remember the whole chicken episode?!). We agreed with our fingers crossed, and she began chopping the meat. She wasn’t bad, really!

So, then, she finished the meat, and all that was left was in the little black bag. So, Lauxman asked me, and I said sure, why not. So, I look at the contents, and I knew I was looking at the stomach, but I wasn’t sure what everything else was... probably better, to be honest. So, he shows me how to hold the knife with my feet and rub the meat on the blade to cut it. I was pretty sure I was going to amputate my own finger with this method, but I tried it and did ok.

Pastor Krishna came home when I was about halfway through, and he laughed and said, “Oh, you bought a Hebuffalo!” In confusion, I said, what’s a “hebuffalo?” Looking for help in explaining from his wife and Chloe, his wife attempted to explain more clearly. “From what you’re cutting, it’s a son of a buffalo.” And I definitely thought I was cutting intestines. And my very city-slicker stomach turned a little funny, and suddenly the smell was overpowering. I just stopped and looked at them. And Pastor continued to laugh, and said “We don’t cut that until after we’ve boiled it.” Lauxman was laughing so hard, but he came to my rescue and grabbed all the meat to go boil it and clean it (well, I hope!)! So, I calmly got up, and went to the sink, and scrubbed my hands like they’ve never been scrubbed before. And today, I suppose I will eat the fruits of my labor, or would that be the meats of my labor?!

Beautiful Feet

2009-09-26T03:05:00.001-07:00

September 26, 2009
Church in Nepal is something to behold. To start, the women sit on the left, the men sit on the right, and everyone sits on the floor. You leave your shoes at the door (as you do before entering any room!). And church is 2 to 3 hours long. Oh, and it’s on Saturday. Sunday is just another day here!

To start, we sing songs, many of which I recognized from the tune, but couldn’t quite remember the English words as they sang Nepali. This is sprinkled with prayer throughout, lasting up to an hour or so. As it was my first week and Chloe’s last week in the church, Pastor Krishna asked us to sing and play a song for church. No pressure, right? We sang How Great is Our God, one of the few overlaps in the songs Chloe sings in Australia and the ones I sing in America.

Then, there was a pastor visiting from Australia (of no relation to Chloe, though they live rather close in Australia) and he preached a sermon on “Beautiful Feet.” We started in 2 Kings 7:3-16, the story of the 4 Lepers sitting outside a besieged Samaria, contemplating whether it was better to starve as lepers in Samaria or to risk everything by seeking the kindness of the enemy camp, the Syrians. Now, understand that lepers were the bottom of society in Samaria. They were unclean, not to be touched, mocked, ridiculed, considered to be like dogs. Now, in Nepal, there is the Hindu Caste system, and in the past untouchables were the lowest caste in the system. Well, a new lowest caste has stepped up to the plate, and they are the Christians. For a devout Hindu, there is nothing lower than one who chooses to love and follow Jesus Christ and Him alone.

So, this story began to shape a new meaning, as I looked around me, and realized no longer was I in the America where “Christians” are everyday people. Rather, the people around me, myself included, are like the lepers in this story. We have no worth to many Hindus. But as the story went on, the parallels became incredibly beautiful. These 4 lepers decided to go out to the enemy camp, to try to find food to live another day. So they did, and to their great astonishment, God had driven the Syrians away in such a hurry that everything else was left- food, treasures, animals. So, they feasted, this probably being the first time in their lives that they ate so well, as they were the despised in Samaria and were restrained to begging for food at the city gates.

But after awhile, they realized, though they had discovered these riches and supplies, they could not wait until morning to share them with Samaria. So, they rushed back to the king and the very people who shunned them, and brought the life saving good news that God has provided food and supplies and their enemy has fled! As I listened, I began to see the reality of this story in the people around me. They are the shunned of their culture for choosing to follow one God, rather than hundreds of thousands of gods of wood and stone. Yet, they choose to continue to go to the very people who shun them and share the Good News that God has given life once again through His Son Jesus! In a very real way, they are modern day lepers bringing the hope of Salvation to a desperate and dying Samaria.

Isaiah 52:7 is the “theme” verse of the orphanage here; it states, “How beautiful upon the mountains are the feet of him who brings good news...” It’s a verse that I’ve been claiming, and the pastor likened the lepers to those feet who bring good news. There’s a Christian rap song that I love called “Beautiful Feet” by Lecrae (you should Google the lyrics; they’re beautiful!). It’s a story of the desperate situation in America’s streets (and honestly in the world in general), but there is hope because “You hold the truth that saves so run and shout it to the world! They can’t believe in something they ain’t never heard so go, go, go with those beautiful feet!” So wherever you’re at, know that God has sent you out with anointed feet to share his Good News with everyone you encounter! Go, go, go with those beautiful feet :)

A Trip to the Zoo and other fun Games!

2009-09-26T03:02:00.000-07:00

September 25, 2009
Today was a fun filled day of laughter, fighting, and shouting. Well, the laughter and shouting are daily occurrences (even with only 6 kids here, there’s plenty to shout over; and shouting’s not always bad, often it’s just the way to be heard as a little person!). And, well, when you introduce games and the zoo, well, fighting happens :).

To start off, I’ve been teaching the kids one by one the game of speed with cards. If you’ve never played, it’s kinda like Solitaire if you stretch your imagination and tilt your head a little to the side! But, with four kids wanting to play with me, adaptation and mutations happened quickly. So, we changed it into a multiplayer game, and just used more decks of cards. And the kids loved it! So we played over and over, and Chloe jumped in, adding to the excitement. Because she and I have grown up on this game, we typically came in 1st and 2nd, so when one of the kids won, you could probably hear the screaming in Tibet!

Then, we had the brilliant idea of teaching the kids Spoons. Now, if you’ve ever played this game, it can be brutal. Basically, you pass cards around trying to get four of a kind. Then, there are enough spoons (well, we used pen caps) for everyone except one person. The first person to get 4 grabs a spoon, and everyone else rushes in for the rest. The person left without a spoon is out. Now, this game gets really fun when you play on the rooftop (as we were) and then put the spoons (caps) on the other end of the roof. Thankfully, there’s a railing! You’ve never seen kids fight and wrestle so much over a pen cap, I can assure you! But there was much laughter and fun for all!

And then it was time to head off to the zoo! And by time, I mean Chloe and I were ready, and the girls spent 45 more minutes getting perfectly beautiful (I don’t know, I guess if I had known there might be boys I know there I might have cared... probably not though!). So, we set off, walking to the zoo in Kathmandu! Exciting right?! Well, we get there, and because Chloe and I are foreigners, we cost 150 rupees each, while the kids cost 15 or 35 depending on their age. Our total came to 415 Rupees, a mere 5 dollars with a little change on the side! Cheap, huh? Well, they did charge 2 Rupees to use the restroom, so add that on to the cost of the kids. Still rather affordable.

In the zoo. I’m not sure there are words to describe it. The cages for the animals were sad, but kinda funny (I really don’t mean to be mean, but when you see spotted deer living in a fenced area with brick walls on the sides and bricks covering the ground, eating out of a trough, you can’t help but think, “Yes, I am definitely overseas!”). So, there were deer, a few cat animals, a couple of hippos, lots of rodents, and more birds than you can imagine. We walked all the way around, and to conclude the outing, it started raining. No, that’s not right. The loudest thunder I’ve ever heard in my life rumbled through the earth beneath our feet, and sheets of rain plummeted upon our ringing heads. And the kids were shivering (scratch that, I was shivering!), and we waited for Uncle (Pastor Krishna) and Auntie to arrive. So we waited, and waited, and it rained and rained. You see, in Nepal, “We’ll be there around 3” translates to “We’ll be there within 2 hours of 3.” So, around 5 they showed up, and a herd of drowned rats clambered over to the restaurant to eat dinner. It was quite the outing!!!

Are You a Christian?!

2009-09-24T00:49:00.000-07:00

September 23, 2009
Today we went to one of the local shops to pick up some odds and ends. While there are many closer shops, Chloe and I walk further than necessary because this store says “In God We Trust” on the overhead sign as you walk in. And Chloe said that they sometimes play Christian music in there.

Well, we did our shopping, and walked up to the checkout counter. The man behind it is very friendly, and as we are the ONLY white people in this entire area (this is not even a remotely touristy area, so anyone around here lives here, which makes us stand out!) he recognizes us each time we come in. Well, as we went to checkout, he asked “Are you Christians?” Chloe and I froze, not sure if there were police right around the door, or if the Maoists were nearby waiting to prounce on us. It’s legal for locals to become Christians now, but there’s still a lot of tension with radicals wanting to return Nepal to a Hindu kingdom.

So, we briefly considered the fact that we might get in trouble for answering this question, but then we both responded, “Yes, yes we are Christians.” With a bright smile (and definitely enough joy to qualm our concerns!), he responded “So are we!” With a breath of relief, we laughed and said nice to meet you!

While the chances of anything happening to us are slim to none, there is a very real reality that Christians are actively persecuted here. A few months ago a church in Kathmandu was bombed by radical Hindu’s during their church service, killing 4 and injuring many others. As the church in Kathmandu is really one body (there aren’t petty divisions over denominations; they believe in the same Jesus, what else is there?!), the entire local church in Kathmandu pitched in to help this hurting sister church. In a society where close to 99% of the people are NOT Christians, you can imagine this man’s joy (and ours!!!) when we said, yes, we are one in Christ Jesus with you! I can’t really describe that feeling, knowing that you’ve met a stranger who is your brother and instant friend out of the millions of people who are Hindus and Buddhists and who knows what else here! It’s pretty awesome :).

So, we walked home, and when we got here, I asked Chloe, “How did he know we were Christians?! Do we have some sort of aura about us? All we bought was paper and juice!” And she laughed and said “Look at your t-shirt and mine!” So I did, and I realized we’re not all that discreet; her shirt says something like finish the race strong with a picture of a Bible, Cross, and a reference to Acts; mine says “This is the day that the LORD has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it!” with a picture of 3 crosses above it and “Christian Business Leaders” below it. Not to mention the fact I have on a cross necklace (thanks to Liesl!). I bet that the A&M Christian Business Leader’s would’ve never expected one of their t-shirts to unite believers in a Hindu nation! Pretty cool, right? So, never underestimate the power of the Holy Spirit in the body; He’ll use whatever He wants to bring God’s children together!