Going Home

Mummy and I were cooking the other day, and as she placed more wood into the mud fire pit, she asked if this is what cooking was like in America. I still struggle with how to answer these questions. But it is moments like this that make me grateful for not being able to go home. I choose JVI because of it’s emphasis on being in solidarity with those we live and work with, which is why we are asked to stay for the whole two years in country. At first this seemed a little intense, but moments like that with Mummy, explain it to me. Most Nepali’s I know or interact with can’t even picture what America is like, unless they have seen a film and even that provides a skewed vision. The idea of actually going to America is reserved for a child, usually the smartest, and even then only if they can get a scholarship or more importantly a visa. For most Nepali’s though it is nothing more then a dream. So the idea of getting on a plane, going home for a few weeks and then coming back, is something I don’t think I could do. I could not imagine coming back to Godavari and explaining my trip home, or passing through Thamel telling the kids sniffing glue that I can’t give them a rupee, but I could spend thousands on a plane ticket home. And while I don’t think that it is wrong to go home, sometimes it brings a much needed revival, or some programs are more adapt to it, I just know that personally I could not reconcile my ability to easily travel between both worlds. I already struggle enough with being white and privileged in Nepal. It is hard to be caught between these two worlds. I may wear Khurtas or saris, work in the fields, have a family, speak the language, all of this, but I am still never going to be Nepali, because at the end of the day I still come from a privileged place, I still have white skin, I still get to go home to a comfortable life when my time is up. And while this is not a bad thing, because I did not do JVI to forget who I was, it is the difficult struggle I feel, as a privileged minority that makes the idea of going home for a quick trip, seem impossible.
Everyday we are shown privilege here in Nepal. Whether it’s something minor as not being watched in a store or something as big as being able to hike to Everest base camp. We work hard as a community to understand this privilege and not abuse it. In the summers it would be great to walk around in a tank top and shorts, it would be nice to eat nice foods or have a TV. It would be easy to not have to fight for the Nepali price and just pay the foreigner price, Life in general would be easier here if we lived like a foreigner and not a JV. We could eat out, drink, travel all over the country, buy nice things, have our clothes washed, and more, but what we would lose in significant and necessary experiences and relationships is unimaginable to my time here. I wouldn’t be able to laugh with Mummy when I try to cook with her, I would miss being able to look out our beautiful cracked windows at the students as they walk to school, our community wouldn’t bond over trivia pursuit, and in general I would lose what Nepal has meant for me. And while yes I miss my family and friends, and I would love to see them, I have come to realize that strengthening the connection with my family here is what I need to do to continue the solidarity I crave with Nepal and what it means in my life. This solidarity is what I need when I finally do have to return home, and with out the support of those I love here and what they bring to my life, I don’t know if I could make that trip.