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 :).
Friday, April 23, 2010
Don't worry, I'll find my way home!
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!
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...
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!
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!
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 :).
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 :).
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Amazed at Creation
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.
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!
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!
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!
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 :).
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 :).
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Party like its... Kathmandu, Nepal!
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!
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!
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