Nepal.
Mountains higher than the sky...the mountains I pretended to see as a child, laying on my back in the cold, wet grass of the Dutch polderland, staring at the billowing clouds that could be my Himalayas.
I excitedly saw the people with funny hats and strange features, speaking mysterious languages, in my very favorite TinTin books. Kuifje by Herge. The one :"TinTin in Tibet", the one that has never left my desire to go there. The one that just came (in English!) from Amazon today, and brought all those mysterious desires for 'the far away' rushing back.
What do I expect when I get there? Is it easy-scary-fantastic (as in exploding fantasy)- amazing?
It is all such an enigma and I wish I had a wisp of an answer.
I keep thinking about the relativity of 'helping', of 'improving', of 'bringing a better world'. Is that what this is supposed to be? Should it? Why? Or perhaps: why not??
My firm(?) belief in Food, Healing, Education to lead on to Independence is rocked at times to the point that I am scared of myself, of what I hope to do. "Peace", non-combative existence, is such a big part of this. And then I ask myself what I think it means. And my answers are consistently contested by myself. I have no answers.
I do not (not!) believe in 'missionary' work of any kind. I will not bend other people's will according to what I believe. I do wish I had more time to spend so I can understand that they believe. That I feel to be useful for continuing to think about the reason of other people.
I do believe, however, in offering others what has been important in my life. Offering only. And that's where my battle begins.
Education of any kind is at the top of my list. It provides absolutely everything we could possibly need. Health, shelter, food, heat. Safety. Community of family, village, and radiating outward. Being able to share beyond survival. Creating more for many, each to be able to look beyond struggle lasting from life to death. Chances and choices. Especially choices. Choices become tools for the wealthy - and wealth has a different meaning.
Schools, books, teachers, universities, Healthy land, well-built structures and sane people making decisions in the name of others. People who are willing to be angerous in decisions for the sake of growth and exploration, from philosophical writing to science
And do I, even in some miniscule manner, have the right to judge another culture to need this?
As the man said to the visitor: "What is that? A camera. What do you need a camera for? To take pictures. Why? So I can have a picture of you. Why? So I can remember you. Why?
Do we need what we need, or only what we are told we do not have?
When I bring my "mission" of education, of 'being able to cope with the outside world', to be able to fit in (heck, neither Carl nor I ever did!) with development of technology, when I show the art of the rest of the world, the music, the computers, the t-shirts...have I done them a favor? Is it right?
Should people be left alone? What if another culture takes over, because they are, in innocense, vulnerable? Like the IK tribe in Africa? Watch them without intereference?
At this point I feel that they interfere far more with me than I with them. And that is good. Their interference (Haiti, Bulgaria, Kyrguzstan) has had such an explosive impact on me. I thank them all.
I hope it stays that way. I hope I can carry away a little wisdom, and that I have left a little. I hope I do not present myself as someone from anything-at-all better than they, whether advancement, size of country, experience, on and on. I hope I can just learn, and be there for them for what they wish to keep. But for now I find it difficult to understand the wisdom of it all.
I'll just let Hari and his people tell me when we get to Butwal. I pray we give more than we destroy, that we receive more than we understand.
Saturday, December 19, 2009
Thursday, November 19, 2009
prep for Nepal
Namaste! ("Greeting the godliness in you")
Our trip to Nepal is taking shape. Beth and I are ready to leave tomorrow, if we could. The plans are many and my journal will be too small! I will be able to get to internet cafes and I intend to send blogs whenever I can.
We're leaving the 28th of December for Kennedy airport in NY and stay overnight at the hotel there. We have to be at the airport by 6am, so that makes more sense.
We expected to take empty suitcases with us, bring them back filled with the crafts we intend to buy to support our new OneBigBoost program to provide special equipment to various places. But now it is going to be filled, after all. About that later.
We will travel, via Hong Kong and Bangladesh, (daytime landings :-) ) to Kathmandu. K consists of a series of old and much older villages. The center is Thamel and we'll see that later. Our "home" will be at Pagoda House in Bhaktapur, from where we can reach the various craft workshops easily. (we hope). Also: Bhaktapur itself is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The entire town. Pictures will follow. You bet! From Kathmandu, eventually, to a little place in the mountains named Begnas Tal (lake). It is very quiet and peaceful. A place to walk, write, visit people and a school. The school needs books and that's where the no longer empty suitcases go! I'm also looking for word and language games. I found out that Shoots and Ladders is a Nepali game! Isn't that cool?
From a few days of quiet by the lake, and a daytrip to nearby Pokhara, we will move south to Butwal, which is the main purpose for our trip. Lots and lots of pictures, and lots and lots to talk about! From Butwal back to 2 days in Kathmandu, then home on the 14th, arrival the 15th.
Beth and are having a blast planning and learning. Sometimes communication with our Butwaleese friends is a bit difficult, but we're working it out! Some of it is a language issue. I just read in an article, for example, that they have an 'automated hospital'. I imagined people on stretchers, each getting different toppings like in a do-nut factory! I'm sure our Nepali will be far funnier that their English!
We are still looking for donations to buy a laptop for the high school there. They want to be able to move it from classroom to classroom, and expose all students to the opportunities it brings. If you can make a small donation, we would really appreciate it. So far we have $150...we need to do better! Pleeeeeeaase?
And oh yes: there is a village near Bhaktapur named Thimi. It is THE potters village. I am excited to go there. About 8000 potters, from roof tiles to artwork. Kilns are right on the road. Ashes are reused to conserve resources. And all the inhabitant's last names are "Potter'. Now, consider the fact that one of the most popular boys' names is Hari...
Our trip to Nepal is taking shape. Beth and I are ready to leave tomorrow, if we could. The plans are many and my journal will be too small! I will be able to get to internet cafes and I intend to send blogs whenever I can.
We're leaving the 28th of December for Kennedy airport in NY and stay overnight at the hotel there. We have to be at the airport by 6am, so that makes more sense.
We expected to take empty suitcases with us, bring them back filled with the crafts we intend to buy to support our new OneBigBoost program to provide special equipment to various places. But now it is going to be filled, after all. About that later.
We will travel, via Hong Kong and Bangladesh, (daytime landings :-) ) to Kathmandu. K consists of a series of old and much older villages. The center is Thamel and we'll see that later. Our "home" will be at Pagoda House in Bhaktapur, from where we can reach the various craft workshops easily. (we hope). Also: Bhaktapur itself is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. The entire town. Pictures will follow. You bet! From Kathmandu, eventually, to a little place in the mountains named Begnas Tal (lake). It is very quiet and peaceful. A place to walk, write, visit people and a school. The school needs books and that's where the no longer empty suitcases go! I'm also looking for word and language games. I found out that Shoots and Ladders is a Nepali game! Isn't that cool?
From a few days of quiet by the lake, and a daytrip to nearby Pokhara, we will move south to Butwal, which is the main purpose for our trip. Lots and lots of pictures, and lots and lots to talk about! From Butwal back to 2 days in Kathmandu, then home on the 14th, arrival the 15th.
Beth and are having a blast planning and learning. Sometimes communication with our Butwaleese friends is a bit difficult, but we're working it out! Some of it is a language issue. I just read in an article, for example, that they have an 'automated hospital'. I imagined people on stretchers, each getting different toppings like in a do-nut factory! I'm sure our Nepali will be far funnier that their English!
We are still looking for donations to buy a laptop for the high school there. They want to be able to move it from classroom to classroom, and expose all students to the opportunities it brings. If you can make a small donation, we would really appreciate it. So far we have $150...we need to do better! Pleeeeeeaase?
And oh yes: there is a village near Bhaktapur named Thimi. It is THE potters village. I am excited to go there. About 8000 potters, from roof tiles to artwork. Kilns are right on the road. Ashes are reused to conserve resources. And all the inhabitant's last names are "Potter'. Now, consider the fact that one of the most popular boys' names is Hari...
Monday, May 4, 2009
Money, honey?
And Haiti moves on and up... yet does not change in some of its ways.
Two days ago we sent our monthly contributions to the orphanage in Deschapelles, and to Gladys and her 4 boys. Several hours after Gladys picked up the money from Western Union, she called me, sobbing hysterically: after WU she had gone to the market, and all her money was stolen. Considering the theft there, I was not really surprised. However: I was deeply annoyed that a street-wise young woman would have let this happened. We all discussed it here, and tried to figure out what to do. Then doubt started setting in. Given the mentality in Haiti, was this a true story, or an attempt at collecting more from the rich 'blan'?
We decided to send her a segment, because we all felt that they could not go hungry even if they had to give up school/tuition for the month. We discussed the amount.
Then I decided, just to be sure, to email our Canadian friend in Haiti, who has lived there many years. She wrote back immediately, saying NOT to send more money, in part because Gladys needed to know that she was expected to take better care ($150 is a great deal of money there) AND that she would not receive a replacement. And our friend quoted a story.
I set up the transfer, but before hitting "submit" I called Gladys. The money, miraculously (more than in one way) had been found again at the market. She was very grumpy and short about it. We were delighted that all these problems had come to a good ending. We also felt that all parties concerned had learned a lesson!
Two days ago we sent our monthly contributions to the orphanage in Deschapelles, and to Gladys and her 4 boys. Several hours after Gladys picked up the money from Western Union, she called me, sobbing hysterically: after WU she had gone to the market, and all her money was stolen. Considering the theft there, I was not really surprised. However: I was deeply annoyed that a street-wise young woman would have let this happened. We all discussed it here, and tried to figure out what to do. Then doubt started setting in. Given the mentality in Haiti, was this a true story, or an attempt at collecting more from the rich 'blan'?
We decided to send her a segment, because we all felt that they could not go hungry even if they had to give up school/tuition for the month. We discussed the amount.
Then I decided, just to be sure, to email our Canadian friend in Haiti, who has lived there many years. She wrote back immediately, saying NOT to send more money, in part because Gladys needed to know that she was expected to take better care ($150 is a great deal of money there) AND that she would not receive a replacement. And our friend quoted a story.
I set up the transfer, but before hitting "submit" I called Gladys. The money, miraculously (more than in one way) had been found again at the market. She was very grumpy and short about it. We were delighted that all these problems had come to a good ending. We also felt that all parties concerned had learned a lesson!
Saturday, January 3, 2009
OK...not quite so somber
We've been home for a month...oops, only 3.5 days...now (seems like an eternity) and already my good memories come back. I am never the less deeply saddened over the fact that so many very ill children do not have what is rightfully, and so easily, theirs. Can't shake that...but we'll see yet whether I can change it yet!
Then I look at Sander's photos, only a few from the last days, and I remember the other past of Haiti. The smiles that break out every time you say "bonju", "bonswa" or "kom en vwa ye?" (how are you?) - with the response "pa pi mal !" - not too bad.
The children who stare at you then break out in smiles and wave until you are too far down the road to see them. The pride when people invite you to their 'spic and span' little one or two-room houses, decorated with 3rd-hand doilies and plastic flowers. The metal, heavy doors that are pulled shut each night to protect themselves from serious crime. The joy of community: washing laundry at the well together, children frolicking in the river, throngs of children walking with full gallon jugs on their heads. Clusters of school children, donned in crispy-clean uniforms and heads covered in ribbons all giggling and oblivious of the rest of the world. Women taking their roosters to market and coming back with chickens...just like bringing your money to Saks and coming back with bags. An old woman on her donkey, going to the market..speaking on her cellphone. We're all the same: just little ants going back and forth on different paths. Men in smart suits, white shirts, ties and gleaming shoes on the dusty tap-tap on their way to work at the bank, or teach at a school. Or a man walking up a steep, dusty mountain path out in nowhere, carefully carrying his freshly dry-cleaned suit, wrapped in plastic. Or Carlo, who has turned an infertile valley (one day walking from edge to edge) into a valley filled with new trees, orchards and experimentl plants. None of it makes much sense. But I find all of it beautiful. I guess I feel that there is so much to be learned there and so much to be reminded of. Neither of our countires can buy security, safety or stability. But we can, each at our own level (through luck?) do what we can to stay healthy, keep our minds safe, our families together and our children educated. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. We're all the same ants...just a different ant hill.
So, people: please keep doing wehat you are doing. Some of you raise better quality food or inform themselves on a better life for others. Some are dedicated to education, whether in community care, health care or independent living in general. Others donate time or money to those in need both here and abroad. But when you think about it: we all do something that makes a difference and therewith we make a difference to ourself. Be proud of it: you deserve it!
Then I look at Sander's photos, only a few from the last days, and I remember the other past of Haiti. The smiles that break out every time you say "bonju", "bonswa" or "kom en vwa ye?" (how are you?) - with the response "pa pi mal !" - not too bad.
The children who stare at you then break out in smiles and wave until you are too far down the road to see them. The pride when people invite you to their 'spic and span' little one or two-room houses, decorated with 3rd-hand doilies and plastic flowers. The metal, heavy doors that are pulled shut each night to protect themselves from serious crime. The joy of community: washing laundry at the well together, children frolicking in the river, throngs of children walking with full gallon jugs on their heads. Clusters of school children, donned in crispy-clean uniforms and heads covered in ribbons all giggling and oblivious of the rest of the world. Women taking their roosters to market and coming back with chickens...just like bringing your money to Saks and coming back with bags. An old woman on her donkey, going to the market..speaking on her cellphone. We're all the same: just little ants going back and forth on different paths. Men in smart suits, white shirts, ties and gleaming shoes on the dusty tap-tap on their way to work at the bank, or teach at a school. Or a man walking up a steep, dusty mountain path out in nowhere, carefully carrying his freshly dry-cleaned suit, wrapped in plastic. Or Carlo, who has turned an infertile valley (one day walking from edge to edge) into a valley filled with new trees, orchards and experimentl plants. None of it makes much sense. But I find all of it beautiful. I guess I feel that there is so much to be learned there and so much to be reminded of. Neither of our countires can buy security, safety or stability. But we can, each at our own level (through luck?) do what we can to stay healthy, keep our minds safe, our families together and our children educated. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn't. We're all the same ants...just a different ant hill.
So, people: please keep doing wehat you are doing. Some of you raise better quality food or inform themselves on a better life for others. Some are dedicated to education, whether in community care, health care or independent living in general. Others donate time or money to those in need both here and abroad. But when you think about it: we all do something that makes a difference and therewith we make a difference to ourself. Be proud of it: you deserve it!
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