Chiyaa

A few Sundays ago I went into Thamel to do a little Christmas shopping. Katie and I had, ordered rice bags that were being made into purses and I was picking them up. When I walked up the backstairs to the sewing room of the shop, I was greeted by Krishna and Ram, the father and son who own the shop. I was informed the bags were not ready but would be "soon." Soon in Nepal could be anywhere from a half hour to a half a day. I was contemplating what I could do to "kill" the time. Shop a little more? Go to the office and check e-mails? What to do? My thoughts were intreupted by Krishna saying "Mero bihani baschu, tapaii chiyaa khanus." Which simply means my little sister sit and drink tea. As I stumbled to think of reasons why I could not, things to do, people to see, Krishna left, and Ram informed me he is bringing tea. So I pulled up a stool and sat. As I sat and watched Ram work, I was able to hear more his life. He has worked in his father's shop since he was seven (he is now 27), but would like to open his own shop some day. He has been to France, and Germany, because a family he met in Nepal and worked for now lives there and paid for him to come. He use to live in a tent village on the river, but was able to move into houses run by an NGO, because his father was their Nepali translator, all of which he did for no cost. His mother works at home, but spends her days going back to the tent villages and streets around their house and takes care of the poor and sick however she can, whether its bringing them home to bathe or cloth them, or simply to talk with them. As we were talking Krishna came in with our chiyaa, and the conversation continued. We shared about our families, home, and the work we do. As I got ready to leave, I asked Krishna what I owed for the chiyaa, in which he laughed and said nothing. He explained, Chiyaa is more then a drink, it is the time spent drinking chiyaa that is important, and that you must always find time to drink chiyaa. I smiled thanked them both, hoping they knew that I meant for both the bags and the time. As I walked out the door Krishna called after me, Remember, my bhaini always have time for chiyaa.

A few days ago, Katie and I were in a rush to meet a friend when we walked past Krishna and Ram's shop, we stopped in for Katie to return a purse. As we walked in we were greeted by Krishna saying come have chiyaa. And so we sat, drank tea, and were ridiculously late in meeting our friends, but I will always have time for chiyaa.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to All! With the new year comes a new look, it was mentioned that the dark background was hard to read so I updated the blog, hope you enjoy the new look! New Years was spent dancing the night away at a ceilidh. It was a wonderful way to bring in the New Year. Wishing you all the peace and joy in 2008!

A Challenge to Love

In high school I took a class called loving. It was mainly about how we are called to love others and self, and all aspects of what “love” is. I took the class because who doesn’t like the idea of love? But as I continue life here in Nepal I am learning that love is ever so complicated, especially loving those who are loved least. As I walk down the street, street children and women begging for money, or food often bombard me. Every time I come upon them, I freeze, a part of me wants to reach into my bag and give a rupee and the other part, hears “Don’t perpetuate the cycle.” This cycle being white people have money and will give it to me. Which as I have experienced is true. I work in Thamel, which is the major tourist area of Nepal. It is the “downtown” of Kathmandu if you will. And numerous times I have seen tourists reach into their pockets and place a hundred rupee note into their bowl, mainly because it is a little over a dollar to them, but in Nepal a hundred rupees can buy, a nice meal, warm clothes, and glue to sniff, with a little left over, all that a child could want. So why would they give up this life? They probably make more on the streets in Thamel then they could if they got a job, and its not as much work. So where does that leave me? It is hard to walk pass the same men each day who crawl along the streets, or the children who run up to me glue bag in hand and snot coming from their nose. I feel the tug to give, but I usually end up saying Namaste and move on. It’s also the reason we rarely go out in Thamel, because how can we pass a child that morning and say I can’t give you money, and then walk by that same child that night on our way to a bar or restaurant? And then there are the children by our house. While in Thamel I find it easier to say no, because most kids are strung out and I can’t support that and I know that there are tourists on their way to give a couple hundred rupees to them. But by our house the same family of women and children approach me at least three times a week. And it’s hard because here the women and children will grab you, and hold onto you as you try to walk away. And no matter how many times I try to say politely I’m sorry Didi but I don’t have anything, it usually takes me saying Roknu, a command form for them to let go, that or someone pushing them off me which leaves me fighting back tears and wondering was that really worth it? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to give them a rupee?
I have thought about this a lot, especially with the Christmas seasons. In almost all of the major religious teachings there is mention of loving one another. In Buddhism we are taught “Hurt not others in ways you yourself would find hurtful,” in Islam “No one is a believer until you desire for another that which you desire for yourself,” and Jesus taught us “love one another as you wish to be loved.” When I was home I tried to practice this, if I had change in my pocket or extra food and someone asked for it I gave it to them no questions asked. And why? Because I hoped that if I was in their situation someone would do the same for me. This belief is what led me to Nepal. Where I currently ignore pleas for hunger or help, because I don’t want to perpetuate a cycle? But will my not giving really end this cycle? Yes, it might be a step in the right direction, but at the same time, there were stigmas to me giving at home too. I was a white college student, just like I am a white person here, yet for some reason being in a foreign country changes this? I understand why it is not good to keep this idea of being white and giving, but at the same time, what is the cost of this? Going hungry? And it is different here. Nepal has no stable government, very few out reach programs to help, and many of these women and children are on the streets because husbands or parents have abandoned them.
So what to do? While I don’t know if I will ever find a solution I am happy with, one thing is that I have started carrying fruit on me, which I give instead of money, especially while in Thamel, so that they actually get food. Though, the reaction is usually that of disdain, and I walk away feeling the same as if I didn’t do anything. Which I think comes from the lack of connection I feel. And it also opens doors into my attitude of appreciation. Why does someone need to appreciate something? And it’s a good thing that even when I help I still feel uneased because this situation is more then handouts and food, it is a larger problem involving the country and its ability to throw its children to the streets. It is good that I am constantly questioning and looking for ways to help. I also have realized just how important it is to learn Nepali, because it is my only way to communicate with people, especially the children who are so used to being ignored. And at the end of the day the fact is that they are children who are just looking for someone to care. So while taking “Loving” was a wonderful concept, as I sat in that classroom, never did I think my idealistic ideas of love would be challenged so much, and it may be one of the most important challenges I will continue to face. And if the challenge is to love, then what a beautiful thing that is.