American-Nepali
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Our first two issues of ANSWER-Nepal last month elicited many positive responses. One of our sponsors from Washington State wrote me, “Congratulations on seeing your dream to fruition. Not many people have such a chance…”
I do indeed feel blessed. So much joy is being generated. The children are happy in school-imagine what a destitute child has to do if he/she weren’t in school! Then, there is the joy generated when we deliver letters to the children, only to be matched by the joy their sponsors receive when we deliver their students’ letters to them. And then there is the joy of our staff, and our two boards, who know that their efforts are truly effective. Oh yes, and the Joy Dave and Bonnie get from producing this newsletter…. Blessings, Joy, Love generates more Blessings, Joy, Love.
Meet Answer’s Co-Director in Nepal, Jailina Mulmi
Meet Jailina Mulmi. Jailina started out working as a volunteer for Answer in 2006, then working part time for our organization, and now is Co-Director of Answer in Nepal. At twenty-six, Jailina has an impressive work experience from freelancing feature articles on Nepali Culture for Buddha Air Lines Magazine while a university student to Addiction Counselling and Advocacy.
Social Welfare Club nurtures responsible, conscious citizens.
One of the most exciting programs that ANSWER sponsors and Jailina directs is the Social Welfare Club. Every Saturday, ANSWER students from different schools in Kathmandu eagerly gather to attend Social Welfare Club. Our students watch movies on different issues every week and discuss the subject matters addressed in the movie. For example, they might watch Beatrix Potter and then discuss the caste system in England and around the world. Follow this with the King’s Speech and The Blind Side and the children begin to understand the injustice of social hierarchies! They are highly encouraged to express their ideas voluntarily. In the public and private schools there is little emphasis on discussion and critical thinking. Most schools emphasize rote learning and short answers.
Thanks to Bonnie and Dave Cunningham, ANSWER has a new format for newsletters using Constant Contact. Below is a reposting of the one sent out in email.
ANSWER Newsletter – First Edition
Brought to You by Volunteers Who Believe in Answer!

Our trip to Nepal this past falI was the EXPERIENCE of a lifetime! We trekked in the Annapurna Mountains, swam with elephants on Island Jungle and soaked up the exotic and intoxicating culture of Nepal
Hello ANSWER Sponsors and Friends:
VERY EXCITING NEWS TO SHARE! At the end of their 10th grade year, all students take a graduation exam called the School Leaving Certificate (SLC). The SLC is a very difficult college entrance exam. About half of all total students who took the exam this year failed. However, ANSWER students continue to excel: We just received the scores of our 44 students and they all passed with record results! We had 21 students pass with Distinction (A+), 20 in First Division (A, B), and 3 in Second Division (C). To score with Distinction is an amazing achievement and 9 of our students scored above 85%! These scores are literally one in a thousand and may qualify them for extra scholarships. To date 116 ANSWER students have taken the SLC exam and all have passed and gone on to college.
Hello ANSWER Sponsors & Friends,
WELCOME to our newest sponsors of ANSWER. Earle spent the last few months traveling through Washington, Oregon, California, Arizona, Iowa and Indiana making presentations and signing up new sponsors. Thank you for joining the ANSWER family!
CHANGE THE DATE:
Due to unforeseen circumstances we have had to change the date of ANSWER’s Annual Benefit Dinner & Silent Auction. For those of you who live in the West Michigan area please save the date of Sunday, February 20, 2011 for this important event. More details will be given as they become available.
Hello ANSWER Sponsors and Supporters,
THANK YOU to everyone who wrote letters to your sponsored children. It means so much to them to receive a letter from you twice each year! You will receive your next reply letter from your child(ren) in December. You will also receive an invoice requesting payment for the 2011-12 school year, which will be due in February.
Note: Click on each thumbnail to see a full size photo.
I just had a reunion of sorts a few weeks ago …..with a beautiful, young Nepali woman. I used to meet her on the streets almost every day, but I hadn’t seen her for so long that I was afraid something dire had happened. I included her in part of a sermon once as a prospective Martha Stewart for her spunk and determination to sell and prosper.
Her name is Sanu Nepali, Sanu means “Little One.” Nepali is a common name, very low caste, as opposed to the surname Nepal, which is the name of the previous Prime Minister. Sanu is a hard working street girl who obviously loved her job as she was omnipresent, hitting on the tourists. Sanu carried a little babe on her back and begged foreigners to buy her a carton of powdered milk for her baby brother. It is a scam, of course. A scam that kept her alive, taught her English, and touched many in a multitude of ways. For example, I once found her in a greasy spoon with a foreigner…some good-hearted soul trying to learn Nepali from her in exchange for some lunch. But Sanu didn’t know grammar or parts of speech, so it is next to fruitless to learn a foreign language this way (I know this from experience!), unless you enter their world and learn their language “Are not! Am too!”
I will never forget the day, maybe 7 or 8 years ago, when I rounded a back street near my Guest House and chanced upon this little one about to scam two young women, probably Brits or Aussies, into buying milk for her baby brother. I caught Sanu with her “babe on her back” just as they were reaching into their purses. Quickly, I blurted out to them that it was a ruse and to put their money away. I felt a bit proud of myself for discouraging children from begging….
Well, a few days later, I stopped at an outdoor snack shack for “finger chips” (french fries), when a little girl came by and stuck her tongue out at me. Taken aback, and not recognizing her from a 100 other dirty little street urchins, I quipped, “Whats that for?”
Little Sanu, put her hands on her hips and said, “Don’t you remember? Milk for my brother?”
“Oh, Dear!”….and now I felt a sense of shame descend upon me. I recalled how noble I felt at the time, and not a thought about the impact of my actions on this little girl. Quickly, I responded, “Please come up here and join me for some finger chips.” Sanu climbed up on the stool and with her dirty little hands, hungrily dug in. So, now it was my turn to gain the upper ground by reasoning with her.
It just so happened that at this very time, my staff and I had been working the river banks in Katmandu helping the squatters living there. We set up a tent school in the morning, and I worked it as a clinic in the afternoon with amazing results that still reverberate today, but that’s another story to share in another installment in a few weeks. The point is that my staff had been pressuring me to support them in their condemnation of their lifestyle of begging…which I was debating with myself–I wanted to support my staff, who understand the cultural norms, but who was I standing outside their culture and passing judgement? So, I guess some of that must have rubbed off on me when I had encountered Sanu and was being judgmental and interfering.
So, as Sanu and I were enjoying our finger chips, I asked her questions and began building my defense. “Sanu, don’t you know that begging is bad?”
At which point, she sat up straight and tall, fire leapt into her eyes, and she looked me in the eye and said defiantly, “Sir, Begging not bad. Stealing bad!”
“Wow, from the mouths of babes….,” I thought. I could’ve reverted to building my case again, but it would’ve been pointless. It was black and white to her, and I knew that she had me. I smiled, and said. Yes, Sanu, you are right. I was wrong. When we are done here, let us go to the store, and I will buy you some food….I remember, we held hands on the way there, and she picked out a box of cookies.
The next day, when I visited the squatters on the mud flats, I told our staff that they were living here in squalor instead of in their homes back in their village in order to beg. They had traveled all ths way to make their livelihood, and I am sure, it was a carefully rendered decision. So, it was up to them to want to change their lifestyle, not up to us to make them quit. Our job was to teach school and to treat their illnesses . As a result, to this day we are welcomed on the mud flats and greeted back in their home village 100 miles away whenever we stop by. We are respected for simply being their friends and helping them on their terms. Consequently, the kids we later mainstreamed into government schools are now too old to beg with their mothers, and are still in school! I may write about their remarkable progress later.
Sanu and I have been friends ever since. I never bought into her scam, but later she was into selling little brocade purses, and those I would buy from her. But then, like I said, she had been missing from the streets. Years had gone by, and many times I wondered what had come of that little charmer. I feared that she might be selling more than just purses, but dispelled the thought with….”She has too much self respect and drive.”
Well, Like I said, this week, as I was turning down a little alley to deliver my laundry, I caught sight of a pretty, young Nepali woman. I did a double take, and couldn’t quite place her. I tried English first: “Haven’t we met?”
She beamed, and said, “Don’t you remember? Milk money?”
I couldn’t believe it; so many years had gone by….I couldn’t even remember her name! “Yes, yes, of course,” I said, ”And YOU still remember the “Milk money!” How many tourists she must have tapped for a handout, and still that incident was as important to her as it was to me! “Tell me your name.”
“Sanu,” she said.
“Oh, Sanu,” and we hugged. Well, we played catch-up over tea, and I found out that she was now 19 and in the 9th grade, and sure enough, she had indeed charmed a sponsor into sending her to a private boarding school. Because the Strikes had shut down the schools, Sanu had come back to her old neighborhood and was helping her “auntie” in a back alley restaurant.
The next day I introduced her to Mary Jane who knew her only from the sermon, and we all relished the story once again, “Begging not Bad, Stealing Bad!”
Note: Click on each thumbnail to see a full size photo.
Having talked extensively about our travels, I want to talk about our achievements beyond just our oversight and letter delivery duties.
For the past couple of years I have made the opportune and warm friendship of Rob Rose, a photographer in Bellevue, WA. Rob has a program (www.trfic.com) that works with all kinds of “specially abled” children in Nepal. He has networked with all kinds of people and organizations in Nepal in addition to cross-linking with local Rotarians all over Nepal. Mary Jane and I first linked up with Som back in 1997 when we were all working for HRDC, the Hospital and Rehabilitation Center for disabled children. Of course, MJ had a leg up on all of us with her 25 years of special ed teaching to begin with. Over the years we have helped educate a number of HRDC children.
Well, it was back in those days at HRDC where Som first encounter Rakesh who must have been about 10 years old. Rakesh has O.I., or osteogenesis imperfecti, a genetic disease in which bone is not properly laid down and is weak. Some variants have brittle bones which break easily; some have bones that do not ossify and are pliable. The latter seems to mimic Ricketts (vitamin D or sunlight deficiency) and predominates in Nepal, and we even have such a case Ram that we had picked up and referred to HRDC for surgical correction. Ram is the brother of a little girl Shova who gave us fits because she kept skipping school, but who is now in the 9th grade and 5th in her class. Her sponsor Harry in Seattle has bent over backwards to keep Shova off the streets….and as soon as he learned that the surgery was a success and that Ram could stand up and walk for the very first time (he was 4 or 5).
Rakesh has the brittle bone variety for which there is no surgical correction beyond repairing the multiple fractures these children sustain. Like Rakesh these children are of short stature as a result. Rakesh has 3 sisters. One who is married and out, one who is a few years younger, and one who had his condition and died around the age of 22-23—Rakesh’s current age. Som figures that unless something is done, the same fate awaits him before too long. Rakesh is lke Rapunzel, locked away in a tower with no escape. He has a few callers, Som and I, who climb three sets of stairs that are harder than climbing up braids of hair to reach Rakesh in order to visit occasionally and deliver some magazines. Rakesh when he was younger, smaller, would be carried down the stairs and placed in a wheel chair and go to school which Paula Doyle, our President, along with a group of friends sponsored. This lasted about two years and he has been able to develop his own reading skills on his own along with survival skills like knitting. I remember when a big sack of mittens, scarves and hats arrived in the mail for us to sell. I went ballistic over having to now become a hawker, too, but Paula stepped up to the plate and was able to sell them all. All this to say that Rakesh never complains, always wears a smile, is so glad to see anyone, and has some real talent and initiative. However, his father is older, his older sister gone, and those stairs are deadly if you tried to carry him or the wheel chair down the stairs.
Well, remember Rob? Last year Rob, as is his wont, came to Nepal to ride elephants with a host of specially abled children, along with doing a hundred other things. I had told Rob about Rakesh and asked Som to invite him to meet Rakesh….I don’t know if Rob was as horrified at his situation or was simply enchanted with Rakesh’s warm personality, but Rob mobilized his forces, Rotarians, govt and hospital agencies, NGOs. By the time I arrived in Nepal, a complete evaluation had been done, including a recommendation—Rakesh should be relocated to a bedroom apartment at Jorpati’s Home for the Disabled in Katmandu (about a half hour drive from Rakesh’s tenement apartment in Bhaktapur). It would cost a $100 a month to be located there, but would include medical access and coverage. But as importantly, he would be a hired as a handicraft teacher at the facility, and paid a small allowance!
As soon as we returned from the two weeks of travels in the bush, we visited Rakesh, Jorpatti, and some of those managing his case. Rakesh was excited about the possibility, so the Social Workers arranged for him to visit and see the place for himself. I have no idea how they brought him down the stairs…they are steep, dark, and only about 5 feet of clearance to the flight coming down overhead. At any rate, they did it and we met him, his married sister, and the social worker at Jorpatti…he was grinning from ear to ear! It was a done deal, we thought.
That evening Som got a call from the family saying they wouldn’t sign on. Too bad for them, I thought, until Som explained to me that the legal rights of the disabled in Nepal are owned by the family…they had to sign their consent on the dotted line, not Rakesh! I couldn’t believe it. The disappointment we all felt, not just for all the work we put in, but for Rakesh….now, he would be destined to die like his sister. At this point, with my Western mentality, I had two quick fixes: bribe or Gurkha knife their consent! Som, in his Nepali frame of mind, was accepting: Ke garne (it can’t be helped. Live with it!).
About a week later, we heard back from Rakesh. He must have either convinced his father and sister, or made them feel so guilty that they gave in and consented to a one month trial. We jumped on it before anyone could change their mind, and the next day had him seeded into his new quarters. Som initially felt that this trial would be a bust because Bhaktapur Newars (the ethnic group to which Rakesh family belong) are so conservative that they have a hard time adjusting to anything that’s not traditional.
Throughout the first week, Som was getting daily phone calls from Rakesh reporting how great he found this new home to be, and the new friends he is making, etc, etc…Finally, Som got a call from him saying that he wanted to enroll in a school over there! At 25, and entering the 5th grade, he would be their oldest student, but they were open to it! Talk about take charge…Rakesh didn’t ask anyone; he just sought it our and decided he wanted to do it. All the Social workers were emailing each other about Rakesh, so I have to share this one with you:
Dear All,
Latest and great news that Rakes dialed me yesterday night at 10 and he wants to go disabled school in Jorpati and I just dialed Mr. Rudra to manage everything for his school. So things are going well. I don’t know when this boy is going to stop dialing me at night and my busy time…….!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Som
To be followed by this email from the head of NAD Home at Jorpati:
Dear Som sir,
I was also desperately hunting you after Rudra could not reach you about Rakesh’s enrollment in NDA school.
I am glad you confirmed to Mr. Rudra. Else I had requested Mr. Rudra to please consider till tomorrow until I obtain consent from Rob and Earle.
I am glad to share the feeling of 14 years NDA career of Mr. Rudra, who has not come across any person as happy as Rakesh in NDA premises.
He feels very good to be part of this achievement.
Regard
Rajan
Well, it is not everyday you read about fairytales coming true. But, Rapunzel did make it out of his tower and found his new home-charming, and hopefully will live happily ever after. I don’t know how long Rakesh will live, but there is no question in my mind that his quality of life has made a phenomenal leap skyward, and this alone should carry him a long ways. And should something dire happen, the hospital is just down the hall, not down three death-ladened staircases and across town! What also brings joy to my heart is that I am sure that the other residents there are also benefitting from Rakesh’s outgoing personality. A diamond has no sparkle unless it is brought out for all to see.
Rob must believe in fairy tales, too, because he offered to pay $600, or half of the annual cost of Rakesh’s apartment, if ANSWER could come up with the other half. I initially told our board that paying for the home of a disabled person was not part of our mission, but what did they think?…They agreed with several dissensions. So, I personally covered the initial trial month just to see if the darn thing would fly.
But now, if Rakesh is going to school, this changes everything. (Honest, I didn’t even know there was a school! This was divine intervention –God having his laugh!) ANSWER’s mission is to support students, especially potential leaders. You read the assessment of Mr. Rudra that he has never met anyone in his 14 year career as happy as Rakesh is in his new home and that even Mr . Rudra is ecstatic, is a sure sign that others too are thrilled. He is a pigeon let out of the coop and is spreading his wings—socializing, teaching handicrafts, and returning to school, at last.
Finally, if any of you out there would like to help sponsor Rakesh, please email Lisa (lisa.durham@gmail.com) or me (jecan314@gmail.com). Yes, you will be writing to him and getting a letter back from our new student, his photo, report card and a drawing, too. Deadline for your letter is August 1, so please let us know right away. Dhanyabaad (thanks).
Getting to Nepal
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One of my favorite sayings is “If you want to make God laugh, make a plan!” So, when faced with 40 hours of flying, there are plenty of opportunities at God’s disposal to foul up a potentially restful flight. So, I was not surprised when three days prior to departure, we received a phone call from Som in Nepal: “Expect a delay. The radar is broken at Tribhuvan Intl Airport (in Katmandu), and there have been delays all week.”
Anything can change overnight in Nepal, so I took the news with a grain of salt and didn’t even mention it to Mary Jane (Second thought, I probably simply forgot). I felt we were fortunate to have the most direct flight to Nepal in all our years–thanks to a new Mid-Eastern airline Etihad Airways. We had just two connections: GR to Chicago to Abu Dhabi to KTM. But again, to presume it would be so simple was an invitation for divine intervention.
Sure enough! We departed on the very day of the volcanic eruption in Iceland. We weren’t even aware of it until we reached Chicago and witnessed the many flight cancellations there. All flights to and through Europe were canceled. We lucked out (God was merciful!) as our flight could still dodge the volcanic ash by detouring south of the Great Circle Route, passing over Gibraltar to Abu Dhabi, extending our flight 2hrs and 1000 miles. We had plenty of time with which to play since we had a whopping 14 hour layover in Abu Dhabi. In Abu Dhabi, one of the newly emerged, oil-rich emirates, all the rooms were taken because of the canceled flights to and from Europe. However, we could pay $128 and luxuriate in a comfortable lounge for 8 hours with a fine buffet, free bar, and even a shower room (the rooms are prohibitively expensive).
We chanced upon this airport lounge because we met a young Nepali man escorting an empty wheel chair, and so MJ took him up on his offer to wheel us around, and even tried his best to get Etihad to credit a room to us, but no luck: too many cancelations and all the rooms were taken. This young man is part of 200,000 plus migrant labor force from Nepal working in the Persian Gulf for slave wages….which is still more than they can make unemployed in Nepal. In the exclusivity of being in a first class lounge in an Oil Emirate, Mary Jane and I were out of our league in a sea of white robes, hajibs, burqas, and custom-tailored and designer wear; and although we enjoyed people-watching, I couldn’t help but feel that we, clad in fashionable Goodwill togs, were the objects of others’ people-watching.
With T minus 6 hours to go, MJ’s heart opened up to a woman in a burqa with 3 small kids trying to make it from the lounge to her gate. With bags, a stroller, a babe in arms, a toddler and a wild rapscallion who was running and bouncing off of the furniture like a bee in a meadow. MJ quickly recruited me, transcended the language barrier, and began parceling out the children and belongings to the obvious relief and appreciation of the mother. Unable to slow down little Abdullah, I took his in hand, and steered him towards the gate about 10 minutes away. MJ and mother embraced at the security check in front of the gate. Meanwhile, I released the boy who ran through and back, and then around the metal detecting pass-through, setting it off each time—great fun! The guards exasperated, mother embarrassed, and we were in hysterics. Mother quickly grabbed hold of Abdullah and sat down at the nearest set of chairs inside to wait the boarding call. As we turned away, we again noticed that there is not just free wi-fi in Abu Dhabi International, but rows upon rows of laptops for travelers to use free of charge to catch up or wile away their waits. We’d done that already, so it was back to the lounge.
The remaining hours ticked off slowly until finally, it was our turn to report to the gate, and we proceeded to board for the relatively short flight to Katmandu (4-5 hrs). We were flying against the sun so the day was well-spent when we landed on time at 430 PM and the sun low in the sky was reflecting back up at us off of tin roofs, and Katmandu sparkled like a diamond. The clear skies and go visibility did not necessitate the airport’s radar which had been repaired by that time.
We passed straight through Immigration, Customs, and Baggage Claim without a hitch, and even our friends from the Guest House were there to meet us, greet us, and deliver us. Now that we had made it, we had several days to adjust our biorhythms before our sponsors began arriving, so we had a light snack and crashed early. Great in theory, but God had protected the dear dog out behind the Guest House over the past year, whom I affectionately call Midnight…so named for his penchant to begin barking intermittently all night long at about that time. After a good nap, we were now awake, unable to go back to sleep, during the long, early morning hours. Before long came the pre-dawn crowing of cocks all around the city, reinforcing the intermittent barking, and a little later this was supplemented by the cawing of the crows near sunrise. Our insomnia could easily be treated with a good book….except that the electricity was being rationed, aka “load-shedding”. So, the room stayed pitch black until dawn. Lying awake in bed, one of us would end up waking up the other by tossing and turning. By morning we were exhausted. Daytime hours are lengthening this time of the year, but in actuality, they were being truncated by our naps from midday narcolepsy. For two weeks we struggled with our day-night schedule.
Getting into the Swing of it and Tripping out
After a few days of recovery, however, we decided to get to work despite our jetlag. So, Som and I engineered a trip north to the Langtang National Park on the Tibetan Border. We would visit some schools in the Highlands of the Himalayas…new territory for us. Som, his new wife Nisha, MJ and I, and two of our “ANSWER children” Uma who is now a nurse and Sujana, a second year nursing student would be escorting us.
The trip, which was intended to be fun and scenic, turned out to be a nightmare. We hired a large Indian Jeep cum driver as we knew there were unpaved portions of road. We soon learned that the greater portion of the way is still in total disrepair: it was 4-5 hrs of “bumpy, dumpy roads”, as Som calls them, which even our jeep had a hard time navigating. Half way there, in Trisuli, we all welcomed a rest stop (to scout out a school) as much as we dreaded climbing back in for another 2 hours of bumpy-dumpiness to Dhunche.
Finally, in the late afternoon, tired, stiff, and weary, we made it to Dhunche, unloaded our bags in a rustic hotel, and marched down “main street” to a very nice school where we met the principal and recruited another set of candidate children, two prospective nurses and one doctor wanna-be! The Question for us is….do we want to spend two days traveling on jarring roads two to four times a year, for just a half dozen children? We soon rationalized that we could probably do this in rotation with our staff, so everyone bares the onus. With schools both in Trisuli and Dhunche, we could probably make it a dozen children and even pick up another school somewhere else along the way.
I can’t emphasize enough how important it is that we do this outreach into the interior. These children in the remote areas are the ones who are totally out of the flow, totally overlooked, and forgotten. If we made sure that the bright ones get good educations through college, they would set the example for others and promote rural development as well. Only within the past two years or so have TV and cell towers linked them to the happenings of the rest of the world. This means educational and career opportunities beyond farming, shopkeeping, or portering supplies in and out for trekkers are now conceivable. With TV they are now aware of how the other half lives, but with no hope for improving their own lot, their once contented lives would soon transmute to despair and resentment, and possibly even violence and rebellion.
On the other hand, TV has a wonderful way of modernizing thinking. I read a nice piece in Super-Freakonomics (the sequel to Freakonomics, a must-read) about the frustrating experience family planning programs have faced in rural India. With bazillions of illiterate peasants, everything India has tried, from educational programs to making injections and devices available, including sterilization, nothing has made a dent in the population growth outside the cities where the vast majority of Indians dwell. Nothing that is, until TV towers and cables began to penetrate the interior. Once rural women were finally able to see well-to-do women on TV with small families and careers and enjoying “the good life”, the birth rate plummeted and attendance in family planning programs began to swell. This is now happening all over the developing world.
And so it is in Nepal, too, with additional ramifications. For example, we used to see EVERY little girl expressing her desire to be a doctor, and we still do, but now one in ten or twenty is now saying, “I want to be a pilot!” One girl this year told Som she wanted to be a lawyer! Where did that come from?” I asked. Som pushed it aside with, “Just a TV program.” But the point is that boys and girls now have a new source of information and they are paying attention to options beyond just what daddy wants. That’s a huge step in individual choice and independent thinking!
Anyway, as dusk was setting in and around Dhunche, things were getting a bit chilly. Dhunche is at 6200 feet and things cool down quickly after sunset. In Katmandu we slept under sheets. Here we had several heavy blankets (albeit, the cheap Chinese rayons have replaced the wool and yak hair ones even out here). The next morning, with no hot water, we skipped our showers, had our tea, and all went out to explore the town some more. With the goats running around everywhere in a bucolic, alpine setting with children running all around, I couldn’t help but think of Heidi and Grandfather! And yes, the icy peaks of the Alps, or rather the Himalayan range, were visible at last. Dhunche is built on the north side of a mountain facing the Himalayas, but we needed to hike higher to appreciate the full majesty of the range. Even so, it was a glorious morning with jagged, glacier-ladened peaks jetting up beside us.
The splendor, however, was short-lived as we had to jump back in the jeep for a long “bumpy, dumpy” and uneventful ride back to Katmandu. Uneventful is a good thing: Som’s wife Nisha is “a little bit pregnant” and in the throes of morning sickness, MJ couldn’t help but focus on her condition.
Our Sponsors Arrive and the Political Turmoil Begins
Within the next day or two, our sponsors began to arrive: Mary with her two teenage boys Pat and Duncan from Michigan, and a couple from Maine, David and Marty, who had visited Nepal with us in 2007. With their arrival we switched to a more upscale hotel to be rid of Midnight’s barking, and it made a significant difference.
However, as our sponsors were recovering from jet lag, a nationwide strike was called by the Radical Student Union ANNISU-R (Maoist) against all 6000 private secondary schools for tuition hikes. AND, no sooner had the Private schools agreed to roll back the increases to appease the Radical Student Union, than the Maoist Party called for a nationwide, general strike to get the current Prime Minister to resign and hand them the reins of power. So, for a week and a half we were ready to roll, visiting our schools and students, reading and writing letters, etc., but completely thwarted by the political situation.
To describe what all this entails would require another one of my ten page letters, so enough to say that this is one of the tightest lock-downs Som and I have ever experienced. In this case essentially, many rural Maoists were bussed into Katmandu, and coalesced with urban Maoists in the streets in such numbers that shops were afraid to open and defy the strike. All transportation except Army, Police, Ambulances, and a few Tourist Buses were forced off the road….if not, a barrage of stones, or worse, would pummel the vehicle. Roads were blocked off in the cities, the villages, and the highways running between them. Only the airports remained open, but taxis, buses and even rickshaws are all verboten.
This was one of the most effective strikes ever…nothing was running, nothing was open. Som and his brother had to walk 4-5 miles each way to and from their homes to visit us. Usually, taxis run after sunset, but not this time….it took Som well over an hour to walk home after dark. Graciously, from 6-8pm the tourist area is allowed to open for dinner…the Maoists recognize that this is not our dispute and do not want to alienate a large portion of those who bring in tourism and foreign aid. Even so, few restaurants wanted to go to the trouble of opening for only two hours, and soon the exodus began and the arriving tourists began cancel ling their visits. Even Mary and her boys got tired of waiting it out and left to finish their vacation time in California. We were so disappointed, but no doubt they were even more so.
During this time Prachanda, the Maoist Leader, made a speech to his cadre saying it was time for the rural people to bring the aloof urbanites to their knees. This essentially alienated a good number of Katmandu citizens, especially the intellectuals in the press. Prachanda had cut his own legs out from under himself which led to his having to lift the strike. Since then, the Maoists have been surprisingly conciliatory and haven’t even mentioned reinstating the strikes.
Nowadays, with the heat and impending monsoon, there are few foreigners left. I am now one of the few remaining bideshi (or foreigners) which makes me the sole object for every shoe shine boy, open-hand child wanting a rupee, and itinerant street hawkers of tiger balm or hashish. I am so fed up with it all that I even bought the classic Katmandu tourist t-shirt that reads: “No Rupee, No Hashish, No Rickshaw, No Tiger Balm, No Problem.” Before, I tried to be polite, now I simply say, “NO!” and point to my shirt.
To continue with the saga, while the schools and highways still closed due to the strikes, we had to delay our plans to tour and visit schools for the time being. Because the planes were still flying, we flew out to Pokhara simply for a change in venue. Like I said, the airports were open, but nary a taxi or rickshaw to be found. All of us had to walk nearly 2 miles to our Lakeside Lodge. MJ and I arrived on a later flight and were lucky to have two bicycles available to us. MJ hadn’t ridden a bike for 3 or 4 years and was a bit nervous, so she sat sidesaddle on the back of a hard, bare bicycle rack and survived. It turned out that there was a bicycle rental store just up the street from us, so we did one or two school visits in Pokhara pedaling, and while we were at it, there were pedal-boats and paddle-canoes and hikes to keep us further occupied.
Finally, after a few days, the strike was lifted, and we made bee line to the airport to fly into the Annapurna Range of the Himalayas to the village of Jomsom at 9000 feet of elevation. This was really a stark, rocky passage between two tall mountains through which the Great Kali Gandhaki River flows southward into India and the Ganges.
Mary Jane and I were accompanied by Marty and David, Som and Nisha, Bal and Sanoj, an ANSWER graduate in Accounting and our newest staff person. We had no trouble finding a room for all of us…a large party of tourists had just canceled their trip to Jomsom!
We had at last begun our visits to the schools, and for the next two weeks needed to visit more than 100 schools, or at the very least all of them outside the Katmandu Valley, and be back by the 28th of May, Constitution Day. It was pretty clear that the interim government had not produced the Constitution over the last two years, as was promised, and the Maoists would have a field day once again, demonstrating and most likely, it would mean more strikes. We had to make record time! No telling what God was going to throw at us next.
Politically this has been one of the most interesting, unpredictable of my many visits to Nepal. Last year there were the elections, and even though we didn’t know who would win, we knew that order would be restored. Nowadays, we seemed to have had the orderly running of government with all of its problems and machinations, until the Prime Minister (Puspa Dahal, Maoist party) who has been stalemated by the opposition coalition, unexpectedly resigned in May. I think that he pretty much acted alone in this decision and did not have the backing of the party, so I get the sense that this reflects leadership and personal integrity. I remarked to several Nepalis that when someone voluntarily gives up this much power, you have lost an honest man. No one wants to argue that point with me, but it is taking a big political risk. What’s more to the point is that the other parties were stonewalling every reform the Maoists would push and nothing was getting accomplished. Better to quit, and not be blamed for failing! So, after two to three weeks of a power vacuum, a new coalition of three major oppositional parties have gained the majority and have installed a new Prime Minister. His name, appropriately, is Mr. (Madhav) Nepal of the United Marxist-Leninist Party (don’t be fooled: Nepal is of the conservative upper-caste and the party is conservative, not left-wing, and certainly not liberal). The tables are now turned, and the Maoist party is beside itself, thwarting and protesting with parliamentary backbiting and maneuvering. Fortunately, it has all been pretty peaceful with just a few demonstrations here and there.
I mention all this because the former Prime Minister Puspa Dahal (the Maoist leader who is also known as Prachanda) was compromised by major problems: the delays in getting a new constitution written and approved, removing a conservative general who was blocking the unification of the Maoist People’s Liberation Army with the National Army, and the strikes and highway blockades along the Kings Highway. This last one was of immediate importance to KTM and much of the country because it meant fuel shortages and escalating prices as goods could not get to their markets. For us the strikes and blockades kept us in KTM as we were unable to ply the highways to visit our schools beyond the KTM Valley.
So, as soon as PM Dahal announced his resignation, the highway blockades were rendered ineffective (so who now has the power to make the concessions being demanded?). Som, read this immediately, and so the very next morning saw all of us (Som and his bride Nisha, our co-director Bal, our volunteer from France Gaelle and I) at the airport at 7 AM catching a flight to Biratnagar in the southeast corner of Nepal. We have been doing this corner of Nepal for 6 years now and it went like clockwork: By 10 AM we had landed and our TATA jeep arrived with Kamal, our driver; by the early afternoon, we had visited two schools in as many cities; and as night was falling, we found ourselves doing two more schools in Dharan. Unfortunately, it was so dark, that some of our photos didn’t turn out and we had to send Chanak back to reshoot a few of the children.
Dharan is one of the cleaner, more modern cities in Nepal because it was largely occupied by the British who used it as a training center for the British Gurkha Army. They have now largely vacated and turned over their facilities to the Nepalis, including a huge, modern hospital, renamed the B. B. Khoirala Memorial Hospital. It is one of, if not “The” best medical training facilities in Nepal. Here we had the help of our two nursing students, Saraswoti and Mamata, who are doing extremely well in their programs! Saraswoti, in fact, has far outdistanced her classmates and is “class topper.” It is very difficult to be selected to nursing school, and then to have them be selected by the top school in the nation, and both of them operating on the summit, makes me wonder what would have happened to such talent if ANSWER hadn’t been here!
We have just learned that one of the students we have been supporting in pre-Engineering had won a full scholarship to a top school in KTM two years ago. Now ready to move on into Engineering he has won a full scholarship to a prominent Engineering School in India AND an invitation and travel expenses to Mexico for two weeks at the Science Olympiad! Rohan is from the rural area and never would have been able to afford high school, much less college if it weren’t for our sponsors’ support.
Our Nursing Students
I might add that every one of our nursing students, eight overall, have done or are doing extremely well. We have one nurse Monika, who graduated earlier this year, has taken on a job in Benares, India as there are no ICU training facilities in Nepal! She will be back in Nepal training other nurses before long, of that you can be sure. Dina was our first nurse to graduate, and was very near the top in the Certification Exam two or three years ago and has been practicing since ever since. Her 3 year program made her a staff nurse, and now she wants to go back for another 3 years to become a fully degreed nurse…we have promised to help as we know that she is not only dedicated to working in Nepal, but to helping ANSWER. A few weeks ago, we organized the ANSWER ALUMNAE ASSOCIATION (Triple A), the follow-up club to our Social Welfare Club for our high-schoolers. This ill-conceived idea was to further develop social responsibility in our young people. It was immediately embraced by our college students and graduates that when I suggested a slight membership fee, say 50 Rupees per year, they made it 500 Rupees! Dina was selected to be its first president. Most of them wanted to start sponsoring ANSWER children on their own, contribute to our college fund, be part of our oversight team, help in presenting Social Welfare Club, etc. All I had to do is remind them that they received their education because all of you on the other side of the world cared enough to help them. What can I say, but “Thank you one and all …..your legacy continues to grow.”
Uma, Paru, Neha, Santoshi are studying in their last year of nursing school, all above average, and Uma is in a close third position to the top! All are such great young women who want to help their nation, so we have little to fear from the brain drain! Uma wants to go out to the remote villages to practice, and then go on to do a full degree in nursing. The nurses form a key nidus around which the other AAA grads are coalescing.
I have yet to mention Binita, our most recent nurse. Binita is from a very poor family, from the high and remote village of Jiri in the foothills of Mt Everest. Her family has so little that she was lucky to make it through the government school there and could hardly speak English. Yet, she did so well on the National (SLC) exam that she won a seat in a nursing school in KTM. Her younger brother came down with her to KTM and worked to help support her. Then at the end of her first year of nursing school, he was hit by a vehicle and died! Binita, now her parents’ only surviving child, was without any financial support and was going to have to withdraw from school. Uma, knowing our rules discouraging our taking on new college students, still had the courage to bring Binita to our attention. So, thanks to a couple in Seattle who sponsored her, she was able to finish her last two years of nursing school and assumed a position in a hospital. However, two weeks into her new job she collapsed on the floor and had a seizure. Had this been in her village, there would have been no one to help, but this happened on the job, in a hospital in KTM, and she was transferred and worked up in the Neuro Hospital and diagnosis with cerebral TB! Placed on antibiotics, she was out of the hospital in a week with no subsequent seizures. Binita is working again, and will have a follow-up CT within a month to see if the lesion is, in fact, resolving. Her hospitalization, treatment, including the Cat-scans, comes to $200, all covered by our medical fund. There They are the ones who
So, behind each of these children are not just you the sponsors, but many non-sponsors who want to help. Most don’t want the “ownership” of sponsoring a child but have contributed to our medical fund protecting our “little investments” from catastrophic illnesses/accidents! To all of you, all of us are so very grateful to you.
Back on Track from Dharan
As I was saying, we now have the southeast corner down: we spent the night in Dharan, this time far enough away from the Central Bus Park so as not to be awakened by the unrelenting horn blasting of the buses which begins at 3AM! So, with a good night’s sleep, we were up early to retrace our route south and then to the very SE corner of Nepal. We have had a half dozen children suddenly up and move, but have been fairly successful in reestablishing the link. The reasons are varied but all related to the fact that these families are really living on the edge and have to move in order to survive. One girl has eluded us, despite two years of searching, because creditors are after them and if relatives know anything they won’t divulge. Educating their child is the least of their worries, and so they are probably hiding out in India. Another family moved from the KTM Valley to this corner of Nepal and did not inform us, nor did the school (hoping to extract another term’s payment from us before informing us—but that’s another story!). The father was accepted to work as a migrant worker in Dubai, but had been living apart from his family to take care of his father. Now the mother and child have to move here to care for his father! Fortunately, Som was able to locate little Smriti and enroll her in a local school. Smriti is in the 3rd grade with a straight A average so without ANSWER, a real opportunity would be lost! This is a lot of work for us, but at least it puts us in contact with new schools and students, which in the end works out well for everyone. By the afternoon of Day Two we had visited four schools in as many cities, made our payments, met the children, collected their report cards, distributed sponsor letters to them and had them write their response letters. We generally average about 4-7 students per school, so a stop usually takes a couple of hours, be it one child or a dozen.
So, having covered the SE corner, we had nowhere to go but begin our western journey all across Nepal. Somewhere along the way, however, we came to our first blockade. These were local Maoists who were protesting the recent resignation of their Prime Minister. The highway blockades are de-ja-vu for us, but this time we were at a loss. We were headed back towards KTM, so posing as a doctor sent out to rescue a village child wouldn’t fly this time. So, we waited for about half an hour hoping the local authorities would arrive on the scene and do something. Finally, Kamal our driver pulled out a book and placed it on the dash, said something to Som, and then waved to the Maoists to come and talk. Gaelle and I were to get out our foreign passports. Kamal told the Maoists that we were Human Rights investigators and that we needed passage. He showed him an old ID card which showed him to be under the employment of a Norwegian Human Rights Agency. They disputed that because they couldn’t read the English card. Then, he pointed to the thick text on the dashboard in Nepali script about Human Rights and then they backed off…The Nepali book title confirmed what Kamal was telling them. They then backed away from the car…raised their automatic weapons and blasted us at point blank range. The car was riddled with bullet holes. We were covered in blood. Som and Bal were breathing their last…….and I, and I….
No, no, no. That was just dramatic license! They then backed away, smiled, and waved us through. Maoists have to respect Human Rights, and also Bideshis (foreigners). As soon as we were out of sight, we whooped it up, patted Kamal on the shoulder, and promised him a big tip! So, if any of you are thinking I am brave and courageous, or conversely, dumb and stupid, I can only say it is more the latter and definitely not the former. However, I am fortunate to have really knowledgeable, careful, and extremely timid staff.
As the sun was beginning to set, we had made it to the Koshi River which was the site of mass flooding during last year’s monsoon. The flooding was a result of silting behind the dam on the Indian border, and the river actually changed course taking out villages, roads and bridges. I think something like 20,000 Nepalis lost their homes and are still living in tent camps waiting for some kind of compensation from the government. As we crossed the flood zone, we could see a huge expanse of sand which had buried their once fertile fields. We drove through miles of what seemed like desert and all around were Indian and Nepali construction crews trying to reestablish levees and rebuild roads before the coming monsoon in a month and a half.
Where the road ended was a plowed track in the sand over which everyone had to pass for a couple of miles in order to meet up with the road on the other side. Just as one turns onto the sand, a huge truck was listing to one side with a broken axle. Quickly the traffic backed up as cars slowed to go around, that is, until a little minivan with a dozen people crammed inside and a ton of luggage on the roof-rack tried to go around the truck, hit a soft spot in the sand, and dug its own grave. Dozens of people then gathered around the minivan to push, but only succeeded in pushing it deeper into its grave. After about an hour a great big land mover with a cable managed onto the scene and towed it out, and then re-blazed a new track for all of us. People all gathered around to gawk at arm’s length, as the front loader gently pulled back on the tether, and I was sure that something would snap sending the cable thrashing about like an angry cobra wiping out dozens of people on every side. Luckily and happily, it didn’t happen, but stupid stuff like that happens all the time here because people’s curiosity and innocence gets the better of them—like the time during the war the bomb squad in KTM was called in to disarm a bomb left on a bridge. Of course the bomb squad attracted a lot of attention, and rubberneckers gathered all around the bomb to see them at work…when it was accidentally detonated. There were plenty of casualties from a bomb that was originally intended only to get people’s attention.
Well, the Maoists and the Dunes slowed us down so that we didn’t get to our hotel in Lahan until well into the night. Tired and hungry I was in no mood to discover that our hotel which had an 8-page menu full of great delights could only serve us more rice and lentils! I hate this hotel, anyway, as last year I was almost electrocuted in the shower when the ill-fitting showerhead let loose with a spray that went all over everywhere, including the hot light bulb over the sink, shattering glass everywhere. I went ballistic because if it happened to me, it had obviously happened a dozen times before, and all they do is replace the bulb, not repair the showerhead. Som, who would have been among the innocent gawkers watching the defusing of a bomb had he been there, cannot understand why I was so upset when a bulb blows leaving me in the dark with broken glass and water underfoot and the spray now striking the live socket! If a little knowledge is a dangerous thing, imagine how dangerous it is when they think this is funny!
Last year one of our principals was electrocuted when he was hosing down the dirt and grime around some new classrooms that were being constructed. No one had bothered to disconnect the 30,000 Volt line lying live on the ground next to the classrooms! As soon as the line and the stream met, the principal was knocked unconscious, but was somehow revived. Fortunately, he was near an airport and med-evacked to KTM by air and treated immediately. It took months of hospitalization and rehab before he was able to return. Fortunately, the only evidence of this mishap are the severe burn scars running from his hand, up his arm, down his torso and legs where the water and current passed through and over his body. This happens all the time: I read about another electrocution at a school just like this of a 9th grade student in today’s newspaper, but he succumbed. An angry crowd, led by relatives of the boy, stormed the hospital and trashed it and beat up doctors and nurses for “letting him die.” Hey, what about the school? There are seat belt laws, and seat belts in the cars, but no one wears them. When I buckle up in a cab, half the time the belt hasn’t been used in months. How do I know?: I have a dirt smudge running diagonally down my shirt as if I had been a guerrilla fighter wearing a bandalero.
Well, anyway that night back at this hotel, Gaelle and I were sharing a roadside room on the second floor. The shower was the same dangerous set up: situated ominously over a light fixture, but the plumbing was tight. However, we discovered that there was a wedding reception happening across the street with a live band blowing their lungs out…we were immediately intrigued and watched from afar. But as the night wore on, so did the band. It was 80-90 degrees outside (at night), and if we closed the window, the noise was effectively muted. However, the inside temperature would soon climb another 20 degrees, even with the fan on full-throttle. All night long, one or the other of us would get up and open or close the window when either the noise or the heat became intolerable. Even so, I was in much better spirits the next morning knowing we were out of that 2-star rat hole.












