no healthcare reform needed

In preparation for this month's stay in Nepal, I gradually collected a small pharmacy that would ward off certain unwanted microbes, ease the annoyance of bugs, and allievate any allergic reaction--all packed neatly into my luggage. My previous experience in Nepal plus my knowledge of the climate and region prepared me for just about everything except, oh, dysentery. I may have spent four months traveling all over this country and eating all kinds of food, but give me not even a week this go around and I'm bed-ridden.

The morning after we spent the day composting the rice plots, Sita (house mother), Kanchi (house auntie), Laxmi (Harka director), and I spent hours picking short blades of bright-almost lime-green grass that carried rice in their roots. We tied them with longer blades picked from the jungle and set them aside to be planted the following day.



Sitting on stools with back bent and feet snug in mud, we picked and bundled and repeated just as the rest of the land was being plowed, prepared, bundled, or planted by other workers...a new reality of community farming for me. It was my hope to participate in some of the rice planting that many 'men' were coming to do on Sunday. Of course these 'men' turned out to be 14 of the hardest working women I had ever seen, which, unfortunately, I didn't see much of because I was back-broke with a crazy little fever at that point.

Picking the rice seeds was my final point of participation before I started feeling the affects of what would be the worst infection I've had to date. The fever kept me from seeing my beloved Diego Forlan lose to Germany (but win the Golden Ball!) and saw that a busy Laxmi was simultaneously planting rice, feeding 30 people, and caring for me all on Sunday. And I mean caring me. I don't know how many cold wet rags she sloshed on my body begging for the fever to go...oh, she also fanned me when the electricity went off, washed my dirty clothes, and cleaned my room. Caregiver. The occasional ray of sanity came when I would look up from my bed to see about seven small children packed at either the open door or windows whispering, "Miss okay?" Thankfully by that night my fever had broken, but the toilet issues remained the same.

Since I didn't have the energy or social desire to go down the street to watch the finals, Sita allowed me to sleep in the room with a small television (which hasn't been used yet because of the kids' exams). I set my alarm for 12:15am, and woke up half delirious, half exhilirated. By 3am I was exhausted and still exhilirated for my (yes, all these men have become personal possessives) Spaniards...especially the likes of Sergio Ramas and Iker Casillas...had finally scored in the 117th minute to beat Holland!

The following morning when my colon was still ridiculous after 3 days, I knew it was time for the hospital. You have the emergency room aspect of the hospital (including an "Emergency Operation Theatre") and then you just have the doctor visit wing. In less than 25 minutes I had met with a very kind, English speaking, intelligent doctor who wrote me a prescription for both an amoebicidal drug and an antibiotic to cover my bases of a protozoan or bacterial source. Laxmi and I went across the street to purchase the meds and later yesterday afternoon I already felt loads better. Doctor visit: 25 cents. Drugs: $3.50. I love Nepalese health care.

[I feel like I'm collecting hospital visits like some folks collect baseball cards or small spoons.]

Besides staying away from certain fruits that I was tempted by and being hesitate to even brush my teeth in the well water, you can see how my past few days have been spent. Not exactly how I was planning time with the kids. Today was their last day of exams so I think we may blow bubbles as a form of celebration.




Oh, and to sign off, I will share the kiddos' answers to, "What do you want to be when you grow up?"

Jamuna: Teacher
Tulie: Doctor
Manessa: Nurse
Susan: Pilot
Suman: Pilot
Ashish: Pilot (but as he specified with one hand shooting straight in the air, "Rocket")
Soniya: Singer
Bisal: Engineer
Buddi: Scientist
(I have to ask a few of the older ones still...Manish was currently undecided)

But my favorite two were...
Ganga: Police(wo)man (sooo perfect)
Secil: Busdriver

a different kind of compost

Not only was I almost run off the road by a water buffalo while riding my bike to internet, but I followed my agile dodging act by breaking the bike. Well, the chain came off. As I was trying to fix this mishap to no avail two Nepali guys came up with a little English and the skills I lacked. Their efforts saw me safely to the computer center where Bryan Adams is playing an acoustic live set over the speakers: "When you love someone/You'll do anything/You'll do all the crazy things that you can't explain/You'll shoot the moon/Put out the sun/When you love someone." What a poet.

Mind you, this was all in the past twenty minutes.

One of my small goals for these few weeks is to gain a bit more tolerance for flies resting on my body. Flies are one of those insects I have little patience with, and here in this heat, they are your closest neighbor. So I keep trying to channel the focused vigilance of Mr. Miyagi. In the meantime I will just continue to sweat. It's the kind of heat that makes you dream of walk-in freezers. Yesterday at the market, I drank a cold Fanta and didn't realize until then how foreign it is for me to eat and drink only hot things when it is, in fact, blazing hot outside. It could be that I'm a spoiled American, or it could be that a cold Fanta is just that good.

As I arrived back to the orphan home after writing a few days ago, I was met by Kanchie, the new 21 year old auntie. She had blue nail polish in hand and simply smiled and gestured to my feet. I made mention one of the first days I was here that her and Sirjana's hands and feet looked very nice...I didn't realize that such a statement would land me a full makeover. Oh yes, makeover. From my toes she went on to painting my fingernails (and I mean a more or less flourescent blue) and then after looking at my face she saw that it needed help too. Apparently, my 'no make up' routine in Nepal was not meeting up to her expectations so she delicately applied liquid eye liner (a first for me), some lipstick, and a decorative bindi. This was for no occasion in particular, but certainly made all the kids giggle.

I went from overdone to completely immersed in dung...literally.

It seems that I have come to Harka at a very useful time. The children have been having their exams all week and into next (they will have a month or two off for the monsoon season) so my English tutoring has been useful for all ages. Just yesterday, Manish taught me how to make candles (I took a photo tutorial that I will try to post once in the States).


aligning wick with mold


boiling wax

pouring boiling wax into molds

let them cool for twenty minutes

pry open the casing and...

whalah

product

and packaging

We spent hours packing very simple white short sticks that will be sold in the market. During such production we talked about all the boys' supposed girlfriends...Manish has been dating Asmita for more than two years now. I'm glad a 15 year old can have a more stable and long-lasting relationship than myself.

But this morning the English and candles were put aside to prepare the four rice plots that Harka cares for at the back of the property. What I have come to realize is that now is the perfect time to prepare and plant for rice season. We are on the crest of rainy season with about 1/3 rain a day so the moisture is just right to be present but not overwhelming. Overwhelming will come in a few weeks. So the older children and I made an assembly line from the base of where our water buffalo, cow and goats live to one of the square plots about 50 yards away. We took buckets, filled them with compost (excrement of the large mammal origin), and sloshed our barefeet to the plot site. Sirjana whined and did very little work while the boys did cartwheels over the barriers and Sima and Soniya continued to throw the buckets everywhere. Perhaps not the most efficient few hours spent. I expect we'll be doing such dirty work (I should get Mike Rowe to come do a Dirty Jobs episode out here in Bharatpur (: ) for the next few days.

But before we jumped into the filth, the kids had to take off their new adorable outfits. That's right, after yesterday's headache-producing market trip with Laxmi (love her, she loves the kids, but she can be so overwhelming especially in chaotic settings) I decided to cure my frustration with some mangoes and gift-giving. My friend, Sarah, was so sweet to buy an outfit for every child here at Harka. Seeing as there were 3 boys I didn't know of, I waited until after I bought them clothes at the market to present the goodies to the kids. The older boys were fascinated by the belt that came with the pants, the older girls were satisfyingly scandalized by their cute new shorts (such apparel is usually saved for those Westerners), and the little ones just kept laughing, asking that I take their photo, and mismatching the outfits for the sake of wonderment and good humor.

Tulie was beyond excited

Bright colors on some beautiful kids!

Oh the little ones

Sima and Soniya sportin purple

By the way, Sarah, they want you to come to Nepal.

For any of you who follow the World Cup, you can understand my devastation that my absence from technology comes during the semifinals and finals of the tournament. I had given up all hope that I would see the finals this weekend, until a man from down the street saw me with the kids and started speaking to me in very good English. He has the cutest little daughters and wife, and invited me to watch the games with his family. They will be played at midnight here in Nepal so that will be an adventure all to itself.

But for now, well, I'm tired of listening to Bryan Adams. Namaste.

bobble head and silly bandz

Fingers crossed: not only is this internet speed far superior than that of my memory, but during rainy season the electricity is on much more than the dry months we experienced in Chitwan. But for you and I to trust this as concrete truth, you and I would also have to trust my communication skills in this country...so I'll keep you up to speed in the days ahead.

But before we go ahead or even start talking about today (it's either Tuesday, Wednesday or Thursday..I can't be sure), I have to back up a few to begin our story. Abu Dhabi, the capital of the United Arab Emirates, was my home for a 20 hour layover. For a while I thought that I would grab a bus to see the fancy oil sites, but it was my good fortune that the Germany/Argentina game began right as I got off the plane from Chicago. So it was there in a Middle Eastern pub that I spent 7 of my 20 hours. I can't imagine a more appropriate location to see the World Cup (I preferred the outcome of the Spain/Paraguay match...as did the Argentinian woman to my left) where I cheered and gasped and drank alongside folks from all over the Middle East, Britain, Germany, and the aforementioned Argentina. Best $10 beer ever.

The time did actually come when I left the UAE and climbed aboard a flight to Kathmandu. The airport was chaotic as ever with several taxi drivers trying to vie for my affection..or money..I ended up nice and cozy in my hostel around 10pm Nepali time. Seeing as I am not exactly fond of tourist-central Kathmandu, I wanted to get a bus to Chitwan as soon as I could. So after eating a more than welcoming large breakfast and Nepali coffee I roamed Thamel's streets filled with incense, Nepali music, obnxious salesmen whispering a seductive, "Miss, Tiger Balm?", in my ears, and found Dipendra (contact in KTM). He updated me on a few things Harka-related and told me I could leave in just a few hours. And that's just what I did on the most local bus of my Nepali transportation life. The ride consisted of the four-hour glorious landscape that is Nepal along with sweltering heat, the man next to me falling asleep on my shoulder, and the cute little boy in front of me vomiting everywhere...I just stuck my nose out the window and laughed to myself. It took waving a few extra rupees in front of my young punk of a taxi driver to get him to go down the dirt roads to Harka because there was no way I was dragging my superfluous luggage through such humidity.

As soon as I jumped out of the cab I think my excitement numbed the childrens' reactions to a solid, "Hmm, I know this is Becca Miss and we like Becca Miss but her enthusiasm is just a bit much right now" (and if you know me, you know I can be a bit much more often than not). So even though my big hugs and kisses may have paralyzed them for the first hour of my arrival, I was soon peeling their sweaty bodies off my arms and legs. Sirjana told me that I was much taller than before, Soniya let me know that my long hair was much prettier than my short hair, and Sima kept on saying how nice my eyebrows were. Thank goodness my eyebrows have gotten more sophisticated over the past two and a half years. All the kids act like they had never seen my shoulder scar before, rubbing it as if it were one of those golden statues whose big toe was worn green from good luck.

If I had changed that much, these kids have changed much more dramatically. Sirjana, Sima and Soniya, the three oldest girls, have also been growing their hair out since Britta and I were here, the second I found Manish he responded, "Namaste, Miss," in this post-puberty deep voice, Secil lost and grew a whole set of teeth, Tulie is no baby, and there are four more boys that I am getting to know: Bishal (11), Ranjit and Sanjit (maybe 6 and 5..brothers who they confusingly call Sujan and Suman, respectively), and Sanju (3 year old to a new 'Auntie' who is 21 years old, and left her husband after a lot of physical abuse). More news about them in days to come...all I know is Bishal is already eat-em-up cute.

But as much as the children have physically changed, their personalities are almost completely intact. Manish is still too cool for school 80% of the time, and the sweetest most charming teenager the other 20%. After he called me "Giraffe [Gee-raph]" yesterday I realized that if this boy was 15 years older, 100 more pounds, and just a foot taller, I would pretty much force an arranged marriage. Sirjana is still as girly and Sima is still the cutest of all tomboys (today, she wore a Garfield shirt that said, "It's crude, it's rude...it's my attitude" which is hilarious but couldn't be further from the truth). Soniya is still the nurturer loving and correcting the little ones as if they were her own. Buddi's smile could still save the world (his tee shirt the past few days has been the WWE shirt my mom sent 2 years ago). Secil, oh Secil...good grief, I could still take this child home with me. He and Ashish have been 'sponsored' by previous volunteers to go to private school and it has proved wonders for their English. He's still wearing the shirt he wore everyday years ago when he was 3 inches shorter, still wears his shorts an inch below his buttcrack, still is clever and pure boy, and still is my number one sidekick. Manessa still giggles uncontrollably for no apparent reason, Ganga still looks like Gonzo and is still obsessed with trash (if this child could only be introduced to dumpster diving), Jamuna still thinks I know Nepali, Ashish is a more mature version of his bobble-head wagging, "One minute, Miss" speaking self, and Tulie, though a touch sassier, still has those two deep craters for dimples that bookend the most irresistible smile.


Ashish front and center

Buddhi

Secil

Tulie

Jamuna

Sima and Soniya playin with maize

The 20% of Manish

Sirjana

Tulie and Manessa being adorable

Ashish, Secil and Ganga being crazy

I spent my first full day peeling and cutting potatoes the size of small stones, walking the kids to school, picking lice out of Jamuna's head, letting the older girls twist my now-long hair into all facets of braids (and most likely putting lice into my head), exploring the jungle (which is more or less the front yard) with the young kids to look for monkeys, feeding the hundreds of catfish in our small pond, and eating dal bhat. The one oppressive difference is this heat. Lawd, lawd...may I never complain about a Tennessee summer again. Sometime yesterday afternoon between the heat, jetlag, and lack of water, I collapsed for a pre-dinner nap. Thankfully Laxmi had dropped off ample water during my slumber and the monsoon season had dropped off a characteric afternoon rain to cool things off for the night time. It seems that the bedroom which was once our sanctuary away from 16 loud children is no sanctuary at all...the outside shade is where the coolness dwells...and so I will dwell with it.

Last night we celebrated Sima's 13th birthday so I gave the kids some of the gifts I brought (I decided to delay the giving to make it more managable). I'm not sure if you're familiar with Silly Bandz or Crazy Bracelets or whatever they're called, but they are rubber bands that vary in shape (lady bug, bear, spider, etc), turn into bracelets, and sometimes glow in the dark. They are all the craze in the States so I brought some along with me. Well, the kids were just about obsessed as they dove under beds and into closets to find the darkest location possible in order to prove their claim. Secil would then emerge from underneath the bed, point to his bracelet, and say "Miss, power!!" He then told me this morning that the spider band that he got made him Spiderman...seriously, bringing him home this time.

I will be sharing more stories in the next few days, but now I have to return the bike to Manish and wait for Laxmi to see if we're going to the market today...always an adventure.

If you're new to these kiddos, feel free to check out the blog I kept while here the first time:
www.travelsinnepal.blogspot.com There are some photos to give faces to all these names!

lightning bugs

(written Friday, July 2, 2010)

Since early June when the heat forced my small community house to keep the doors and windows open at all times, I would find the occasional company of lightning bugs in my bedroom as I was falling to sleep. Small illuminations from nature came to enchant my dreams and make me grin. Their presence was so infrequent, unexpected, and welcomed that it served as the most beautiful illustration for those glimmering heartbeats of romance as well as for all those moments when home is discovered in the most foreign of circumstances.

The Isle of Ometepe, Cafe Hawelka, the taste of gnocchi in Rome, on top of a mountain in Glacier, with the kids at Harka...

And so it is that I just watched Uruguay defeat Ghana in dramatic fashion with other travelers outside a sports pub in Chicago O’Hare airport, and carried my anxious energy to Gate M10 where I will depart for Kathmandu via Abu Dhabi. Just as lightning strikes twice and lightning bugs sneak in to give me a giddy sense of peace before sleep, I am able to see the children once again.

I am thankful for small wonders and simple promises.

great anticipation

I purchased malaria medicine that will make my skin sensitive to the sun. So if I come back looking like Tulie's (above photo) older sister (actually, mother..sheesh) blame it on the pharmaceutical company and not my disconcern for my health.

Friday afternoon I will depart for the inevitable days of exhausting travel that will land me (by God's good grace) in the hot, humid, bug-invested property of Harka Orphan Home where I will scoop up every hot, humid, bug-invested child and kiss their snotty faces until they push me away. Ahhh, paradise comes in funny packages.

And so it is that one large suitcase has been stuffed with outfits that my friend, Sarah, so generously purchased for the kids (photo shoots will be had), world maps given to me by my good friend Tom, an assortment of practical first aid materials, finger puppets, bubbles, clay, bandanas, photos from that time Cedric and I went to WWE Raw (I think I may become a mini celebrity just because I've been in the same arena as some of these kids' heroes), and the 16 beanie frogs that my sisters and I are frantically sewing all for the sake of 16 children loving and beating them to death in the muddy confines of their play world.

My hopeful arrival is next Monday where I'll see these munchkins...

...and be doing a lot of this...

Keep an eye open for quite a few stories over the course of July!

one month...

...until I leave for Nepal!!! My anticipation is growing by the day, but as usual, I can't even fully realize the fact that I will be with the kiddos in just one month. Whoa. And though excitement runs through my veins back to my heart to give it life at the moment, I can't help but be saddened that Britta won't be with me this go around. It will be strange walking to the village for some cookies and hopeful internet by myself telling the local kids that my name is John Cena. The following are a few favorites from two and half years ago...I can't wait to see how much they've grown.


Tulie's steering while Manesa checks herself out in the mirror

morning dal bhat before school

the little ones keeping watch over the rice

a northside view of the compound

a first bubbles experience as Buddi holds up Ashish

catching bubbles takes such concentration

here's my boy, Manish...his nickname for me was Giraffe

our friends that inhabit the jungles to the south of Harka

a prayer from brother nouwen

O Lord, let me praise you, bless you, worship you. So often my prayer turns into introspective ruminations regarding my own confused feelings and emotions. So often I find myself engaged in reciting a litany of self-complaints, or my attention wanders to people and events that inhabit my restless mind. O Lord, why do I keep focusing so much on what separates me from you? You are the source of all goodness, beauty, and love. You have shown me your mercy by coming to me and lifting me up into your own life through the life of your Church. And still I keep living as if the thousand other things that crowd my mind need more attention than you.

Help me in this struggle to make you the center of my inner life. Give me the grace of prayer. Show me clearly and convincingly how I am fooling myself, and give me the strength to follow this insight. Most of all, O Lord, let me understand that in and through you all my little concerns will be taken care of. You do not despise my worries, but you do ask me to trust that you will deal with them when I simply keep my eyes on you and your reign.

Teach me, O Lord, your way. Amen.