Thursday, March 20, 2014

I HAVEN’T WRITTEN MY BEST STORY YET


Kathmandu days passed almost like a dream, every dream, every story had an end, and it is not a good ending every time.

Those 4 days in a city we didn’t know, weren’t used to the smell yet we felt like we belonged there.  For someone who felt like a stranger in her own life this was very hard. I was asking where I was, who I was, what I was doing when I was back home, it was harder to feel welcome in a totally strange country, strange city.

I had never called anywhere home.  Because I always found something that didn’t belong to me or the idea to go always hunted me.  I left the house I was born at the age of 7 before even I could understand the idea of home.  All the next houses were temporary, and I am still constantly moving around.  But on a far away sea shore or among the mountains, or under a big tree or on a side off a deep cliff or in a new restaurant I have felt home.  I tend to feel odd things in odd places.  I am not afraid of the heights but I cannot stand somewhere too high because I have the feeling I might not be able to stop myself from jumping. 

I will not tell every single place we went to in Kathmandu, go do it yourself.  I will rather tell you a very complicated, weird dream.

2 sisters and a couple from Spain, a Cuban dance instructor, an Indian computer engineer a Chilean industrial engineer and me.  The couple went to Istanbul once and asked me the recipe of stuffed mussels so I told them.  The Cuban dancer asked us to join his dance class to check out and that there is this one and only place here that is open after midnight.

We went to a salsa class, watched the upper side of Nepal dancing salsa, where people on the streets die uf hunger.  We went to the Reggie bar had mojitos, which were the best we ever had.  After some mojitos I was dancing bare foot to “Sweet home Alabama” and people were calling each other with the names of their countries. So I was the Turkish girl, the French guy was drunk, the Cuban guy was dancing and I felt home somehow.  I wasn’t drunk, I was comfortable, I didn’t have a care in the world. 

I sold my 500 hundred page Turkish books to a bookshop convincing them there will be other Turkish people coming here, got one book instead, which was forbidden to be published in Turkey. Having a croissant in the café on top of Kathmandu, buying wet wipes from the store, talking with strangers everywhere, talking to my husband on the phone and hearing him say the house is waiting for you, I am waiting for you, not understanding what he was saying, sleeping in the hotel room, getting gifts for my loved ones, I kept feeling at home.  A home that wasn’t mine, wasn’t in me and far far away from me...

 

It turns out that home was in me.  I was a turtle.  An old, sad, tired turtle who carried around her house on her back.  I slowly walked to the airport.  Say goobye to friends, for the hundredth time maybe,  left my home for the tenth time maybe, left my for I don’t know how often...

 

A long hard trip, my sinuses were stinging like needle when I tried so hard not to cry, boarding passes, luggage,  enters, exits, security checks, an absolute mango from the freeshop later, the piece of my heart that I had to keep insists on beating...

 

My home is on my back, it will be there, always.

I see a stranger, not knowing what he wants, cannot see me, walking hardly, breathing barely... Who is this man?

 

The rest is a dark night mare, one you know is dark but you cannot remember for sure, one that tears you from the inside.

 

Standing in the middle of an empty , ugly room that used to be my living room for the last 8 years, my head is spinning, a little vodka a little jack, a song is playing;

If my heart is still beating

I will not stop, I will not rest

If my head is spinning, let is spin

If something is leaving

I will not stay...

 

So I won’t stay...

This is life, if you are still in it you have to keep moving, put the pain, betrayal, damage, injustice behind you and move on...

 

A new story starts where the old one ends.

I have not written my best story yet

This is where it all ends and where it all starts.

This is point zero.

 

Goodbye

Hello...

 

        

 

 

 

 

 

 

     

KATHMANDU



On the last morning I woke up, drank my last chia, packed up my stuff, ate my last dal, bhat, tharkari.  Some of my students came to the house, we said goodbye one more time.  I gave Rekha Didi and the girls my towels and tshirts. I gave Sarita my slippers left the bed sheets and mosquito net to whoever wanted to use.  Macarena came and we got into the cab, with Sarita and Macarena. Shreeram took his motorcycle and followed us.  They would leave us in Narayangarth and come back with the motorcycle. We found a bus in Narayangarth, Shreeram told us he might come to Kathmandu the next day. We said goodbye. When the bus started moving, Macarena turned to me and said; “You wan to cry why don’t you? You have a wall around you built by you to protect but sometimes sadness is good.  Sometimes you should feel sad.”  I couldn’t cry. Not because it was weak, but because it may make others feel bad.
 

 
 
But yes, I had a wall;  an armor built to leave unwanted everything outside.  It would shatter one day but right now it kept protecting me. 

We reached Kathmandu at about 19:00 that evening.  We had no idea where we should get off, just told the driver we wanted to go to Thamel, and he stopped somewhere bargained with a taxi driver to take us to Thamel as cheap as possible.  Nepali people are like this. They take care of you, help you any way they can.  We went to Anapourna Guest House and settled in.  We were hungry and knowing we were here there was no way we would go to sleep hungry.  So we went out.

Kathmandu was magical, big and fast.  I didn’t have time the first time around, now I had 5 days to discover.

We found a restaurant called RoadHouse Café, tourists eating, a totally western décor and the music just blew our minds away.  We ate pizza and drank beer.  With questions in our minds, hope in our hearts and a bit of sadness sat quietly.  Walked around for a while and went back to the hotel. It will be a good day.

Early in the morning with the Lonely Planet book in our hands, cameras hanging from our necks, bandannas covering our mouths we started our discovery.

There is nothing like getting lost in a new city.

First we discovered Thamel. We went into every little street near the hotel.  Small, tight, crowded, dirty streets, car, rickshaws, motorcycles, bicycles coming out of everywhere, we fought our way out.  But just like the Nepali we didn’t care for any of them after a while and just walked slowly and carefree let others care.  Cars and rickshaws are like big animals, if you let them know you are scared they will attack you.  So we kept our confident walk and got out alive.  This is actually a fact for every country in the world.  If you let people, places, cars, animals know you are scared you will end up getting hurt, mugged or something.  But if you walk as if it is your home town no one will bother you.

Thamel is the most authentic are in Kathmandu, old buildings all turned into hotels, gift shops, restaurants. But the moment you step out of Thamel you step into a big city, with wide streets, all kind of cars, travel agencies and other companies, all kinds of brands that we are used to see.  The incense smells, cow gods, colorful flowers and buffaloes disappear into the fog.   Right across Zara I felt like waking up from a dream, I had the feeling I could take a bus and go to my home. I tried to get rid of this heavy, disturbing feeling because you don’t always want to go back home.

Because home is not always the best place to be...

 


CHITWAN


 
 
Chitwan is the name of the area I was staying. The village is Patalahara.  This is near the Rapti River. On the other side of the river is the Chitwan National Park. They have Bengai Tigers, elephants, rhinos, monkeys, crocodiles and a lot of animals in the park. I didn’t go there.  I didn’t feel like it, I don’t like looking at animals as they are a show. I hate circuses or zoos.

 

When I was back in the village, everything went on as usual for a while. The women missed the classes to go pick rice, the younger kids cried when the classes were over and the older ones shared their secrets. But day by day it seemed a little bit harder to leave this small village and beautiful people that I cared and loved so much for.  Most of all this peace I found here, leaving it and going into the unknown seemed more and more stupid every day.

 

 
 
 
I was going back to Istanbul yes, but did I still have a house? Did I still belong? Did I have someone I loved? What was I going to do there? I fell asleep with all kinds of questions in my head every night. I fought and cried in my dreams, with me for me...

 

Finally I gave up, I decided I would do whatever seemed right to me the moment I walked out of the airplane in Istanbul.  Whatever my heart desired, whatever felt ok.

 

This time I was going to listen to my heart. My logic got me into all kind of trouble and left me half way.  I was going to give my heart a chance, and go wherever it would take me this time.

 

As days went by, my students kept telling me to stay. I told them I wish it was that easy.  I wished I could just decide to stay.  I still don’t know why I didn’t. But I had things to clear, people to take out of my life. I couldn’t tell them the truth instead I told them I missed my family and promised to come back one day. And I will keep that promise and go back one day.  It would be impossible to not come to a place that welcomed me so honestly and sincere.

They kept saying what will happen? I knew what; they will organize a goodbye party, we will all dance and cry.

That’s what happened.  They made me wear a traditional white Tharu sari with flowers on my head.  We got together in the classroom, everybody talked and then I gave a speech holding my tears in my eyes... I told them how much I loved them, and how much I learned here. I thanked them for their hospitality and kindness. We hugged, took pictures, they made me dance while they sang.

The white sari surrounding me like a cloud  of melancholy, the flowers crown on my head smelling of a dream, I turned and danced taking in all the sadness and trying to feel it deep down. I needed this. I found this. I loved this. I had to leave this.

Their absence will leave a mark in my heart but their existence left a bigger mark in my soul. 
 
 
 

 

I chose to come here, I chose to leave as everything else in my life I chose to find something just to miss it when it was gone.  I created my life brick by brick working hard.  I would have to work a lot more now, not every brick was full of love and hope, some just waited to fall down on you. 

 

I left a piece of my heart there while dancing to a Nepali melody, it fell down and with the help of my tears it sprout right there at that moment, and started beating with the rhythm of the music.

 

It is still beating there.

 

 


POKHARA



 
 
 
We decided to go to Pokhara altogether.  We made plans for the weekend.  We decided to go on Friday after Shreeram and Sarita from school.  So I took the Lonely Planet Nepal book from the book shelf and started working.  I took notes, when I found something interesting I went to Macarena and told her we drank coffee and discussed our trip.  So we made a plan staying 1 more night after Shreeram and his family left and see the whole city. This is the best part of the trip, planning.

 

Friday morning I sent word to my students telling them I had 2 off days, we would continue on Monday.  We took a taxi to Narayangarth, then a microbus to Pokhara. The 7 hour trip turned out to be pretty exciting and interesting.  We looked around, the roads were very small roads along the mountains, where ever we stopped we ate something from peddlers, check over the book, listen to music, took photos, and talked. 

When we reached Pokhara, we went near the lake Phewa. 

First we wanted to take a boat and go to the temple on a small island in the middle of the lake.  Then we decided to go find a hotel first settle in and eat something.  So we took a taxi to a street where all the hotels are.  We stood in between two hotels, negotiating the lowest price and chose Hong Kong Hotel instead of Singapore Hotel.  Went up and settled in.

While the kids were resting Shreeram, I and Macarena, we went out to walk around.  Bought some souvenirs and then sat in a restaurant and ordered beer.  Drinking our Everest beer I had a dream of moving to this little town, maybe open a restaurant or buy a hotel.  We talked how we could go to the lake fishing and sit under the sun when we had free time. Just dreaming..

 
 
We went back to the hotel, got Sarita and the kids, looking for a restaurant to eat.  Of all choices we chose a restaurant that served classic Nepali dishes.  Shreeram and Sarita told us they would never feel full unless they eat their dal, bat and tharkari.  When I saw the hamburger on the menu we said ok.   I ordere a hamburger, French fries and a beer.  The meat was buffalo meat, the bread was falling apart, it was nothing like the burgers we were used to.  But it was the best burger I had ever eaten in my whole life.

 

Sarita had never had alcohol in her life. Not because it was forbidden in her religion but because she believed it was bad for you, which is true.  Macarena and I convinced her to spike her

Fanta with a drop of beer.  She drank it as if it was poison. Placebo affect she was almost tipsy; butterfly effect I got very tipsy.

 

We walked around the town, looked around, all the places were closing at 22:00.  So we went back to the hotel, we had a TV, opened it and found some foreign channels and watched the news, and fall asleep after a while.

 

We woke up very early in the morning.  We had breakfast; omelet and tea! We went to the lake and took a boat to the little island in the middle with the temple on it.  We said prayer in the temple and gave an offering, coconut and rice, to the gods in the middle of the lake.  Took a lot of photos, took the boat back to shore.  The water was covered with mayflies, spiders, lotus flowers, sun was shining and we were surrounded by endless mountains...

 

We told them we wanted to stay another night so they accepted and left for the bus. We took a taxi after a long bargain and travelled this little town to see the sights.

 

 
 
 
First we went to Davi’s Fall.  This was a very weird shaped waterfall very deep and hardly in our sight when we hang down the fence that protected us from falling in.  Back in the time a tourist named David fall down this waterfall and was never found so they named it Davi’s Fall.

We walked around the waterfall, it was so hard to find and see the actual waterfall it was very interesting.  The harder it is to find something the worthier it becomes to us.

As if we are surrounded with endless beauty we pick more mysteries ones and pretend the others are worthless.

After walking back and forth and finally sticking our necks through fences we saw the waterfall. It was mostly a big hole with water running into it, but it was so odd I was amazed. Then I took some photos.  At some moments I love taking pictures but sometimes the view is so beautiful that wasting time for pictures seems insane. Instead of trying to fit the beauty into a small screen I rather stand there and watch it trying to put it in my head. Because most of the time the camera cannot catch the beauty my eyes can, inhale the smell and hear the voices.  So I can keep in my head a beauty that could be triggered by all kinds of things when I want to remember.  Sometimes the picture taking seems a worthless effort to remember some scene. As if it is not enough to live, smell, taste and enjoy the moment and even forget it forever afterwards. That is exactly why we miss the real beauty in it in sake of keeping it forever.  I wish we were like cats, running after a ball with joy and wonder but the moment we see something else just forget the one before and focus on the new wonder. 

But we cannot do that. We talk about another food while we are eating, remember another movie while watching one, tell about another place while visiting one, wish for a bloody marry while drinking a vodka tonic. So we just mess up the moment we are in by talking about another...  So all of a sudden we realize the great sunset is gone, vodka tonic is warm, dinner is cold while we were wishing for something else...

NOW:  AHILE (in nepali) There is nothing else...

After Devi’s fall we went to another place which was a hundreds of steps down and deep under the same waterfall.  A thin line of light shining into the cave onto the millions of drops of water in the air.  The light shining through was as confused as we were, we weren’t sure if it was cold or hot, if we were sweating or not. The light was just fighting to open a space for itself through the cave...

When our lungs felt like full of water we took off and got in the cab, next destination; the bat cave. Macarena said she was scared of bats and I told her that I have never seen bats, so wonder came over fear and we went in.  They rented us a flash light at the door, telling us it was very dark, and then a guide came to us and told us it was very hard to get back out and there were huge bats in there so we needed her to guide us, so we also said ok to her.  She took our flash light, gave us a candle, shining the flash light to her own feet started walking down the cave.  We kept telling her to shine the light on us but no use... There were no bats in the cave, she told us they left their babies there and went to get food. So we passed through a silent, dark cave feeling a little disappointed, but the exit was worth the whole cave.  It was a small hole in the ground that after coming out we couldn’t imagine how we actually crawled out of it.  Of course we were covered in mud and sweat.  It was fun, we washed our faces and took off for Sarangoth.

 

 

Pokhara is the 3rd biggest city in Nepal.  It is almost right in the middle of Nepal, west of Kathmandu. Population about 200.000.  The city is founded around the Lake Phewa and among the mountains that surround it.  Anapurna, the 3rd highest peak in the world is very close by. 

We took the taxi to 1590m high peak Sarangoth. At some point soldiers stopped us and asked for passing tax.  This used to be something the Maoist rebels did when Nepal was still a monarchy. Now they keep taking the tax although they in power now.  We left the taxi at about 700m and hired a guide to take us to the top. This is the light walk for trackers but since we don’t track this was a long walk for us. But whenever we stopped to catch a breath we stood breathless again but because of the view this time. 

The sun touch everywhere on the earth, the high peaks surrounded with clouds, the clear blue sky slowly rocking... Small village house on the way, beautiful nature, trees, rocks, green fields nothing else.  Standing on the top the world looked much more beautiful than it really is.  The silence was incredible and godly. We just stood there and smoked a cigarette without talking or thinking. Just enjoying the wonderful view.

The nature was standing right across us making us feel small, worthless and meaningless in a way but also making us welcome and feel like a part of it.  But don’t get too excited, you are so small... You are just a dot. You are a small dot that is trying to survive, trying to enjoy but depending on my air, on me...

The comfort and safety of being a part of something this incredible is better than any kind of freedom.

If this is what you feel at 1500 m I really wonder what you could feel at 8000 m.  If it wasn’t so expensive and so hard to do it I would try to climb the Everest just for this feeling.

 

 
 
We slowly started walking back down. Walking down is not just physically more difficult but also mentally.  On the top it is hard to let go of the top, once you have seen how far you can go, you never want to go back. 

After the heavenly Sarangoth we went to the Mountaineer museum.  People who have climbed the highest peaks for the first time, the people who lived in the mountains, the Sherpa most of all, who could climb the highest peaks without oxygen tanks were very interesting to learn about.  They guide the mountaineers to the top, carry their camping equipment, put their tents up and pack.  The Sherpa has adopted into the mountains while climbing up and down with big baskets on their backs since they were little.

After the museum all we could think of was go back to the town and drink something cold.  So we sat in a café and I ordered a latte, Macarena asked for an icetea. We talked about what we would to the next day while drinking and smoking our cigarettes.  We planned to get up early, have our breakfast and go back to Patalahara. I had a class on Sunday.  We went to the hotel and bought some pants on the way because we were covered with mud.  Rested a little, changed our clothes and cleaned up, and went out for a walk.  When we were hungry we found a restaurant called Tea Time Bamboostan.  This was in the lonely planet book. There were a lot of tourists and they were drinking beer and eating pizza.

I ordered spaghetti and beer, Macarena wanted a coke and a pizza.

 
 
The waiter asked us where we are from.  So he wondered what someone from Turkey and someone from Chile was doing in Nepal. We told him we were volunteering and now travelling. So we talked and ate. Afterwards we went to a internet café and Macarena called someone, I didn’t call anyone.  We fall asleep right away when we went back to the hotel.

 

When we woke up in the morning we packed and went down to the reception to pay. They told us there was a strike and no busses or taxis were working. Students were striking and they didn’t let anybody pass. We said great, now we couldn’t go back even if we wanted to. Settled back in the room and went out to enjoy the beauty of nothing.

We had a breakfast, walked through the great bookshops where I found some good books, sat by the lake reading... Later we went to the Tea Time Bamboostan to enjoy the happy hour.

We asked for screwdrivers and the waiter welcomed us saying our countries names. Hello Chile hello Turkey! We got something that looked like a screw driver but tasted like tang.  Macarena scooped out the ice from her drink saying that ice will make us sick here. So I showed her the picture I took of her the day before in the café drinking a huge glass of icetea full of ice. The waiters assured us that the ice was from good water but she insisted on getting rid of it. They were somehow insulted. If we had a bug in our food they would just take it out and forget about it, but the ice was just rude...

 

Next 4 days, we stopped packing and accepted that we were trapped in a great little town and enjoyed it. 

We got lost and found.  Drank and sang, ate and walked.  Just took advantage of being trapped. Sat down in the internet café for hours and wrote emails to everyone. Decided to go to Kathmandu when I was leaving 5 days prior to my journey and stay there see the city.  They have incredible book stores here in Nepal, you can find any book you want.  The traveler give their books to the shops in return of other books. So there are books from all over the world, which travelled and seen a lot.  They all smell amazing.  I always smell the book before I buy it. To me every book has a unique smell and no not because of the paper or the print, only because of the ingredient and places it has been. After smelling some books and checking out music cds, and checking in in Tea Time Bamboostan we would go back to the hotel and wait for the next day to reveal itself.

Finally on Wednesday strike was over.  We took the bus for 7 hours and after bargaining with a cab in Narayangarth we reached home in time for my class. When I went to school all the children and women surrounded me asking where I have been. “You said you will be away for 2 days but it has been 5 days!”

I tried to explain them we couldn’t find a bus. After they forgave me we had our class. I told them about our trip and Pokhara. So I was back to normal.  But that night I realized I had so little time left.  I went to bed and cried. I wished I could stay.  I loved them so much and they loved me so much that it made me feel not lonely at all.   Being loved is the most beautiful feeling in the world.  It softens your heart, to beloved, to be missed and cared for.  That is all we do anyways isn’t it? We spend our lives trying to be loved, by friends, family, lovers, and people who we don’t even know.

Be loved...

 

 






COMING TO THE END


 
 
 
When a story is about the end, I always forget that a new one is about to start.

Far away from everything I was used to, in this incredible place I wasn’t aware how the time flew

I realized it when it came to the end.  My story is not ending yet, but the monster called time started to hurt me

First few days, when I missed my life, was scared of bug sand hungry I was counting the days. 59-58-57-23.

When Shreeram went to Kathmandu to pick up the new volunteer I realized my time was over. Going is always good but what you leave behind breaks your heart

I am not a a kind of person who gets friendly with people very fast.  I am pretty sure people though I was a kind of a snob the first days, maybe a little cold.  I tend to run away when I can’t explain myself or cannot find anything to say.  My existence has to make sense where ever I am. I have to make a difference, say something, and teach something.  I have to tell them a story they never heard before. They should listen to me and be fascinated.  My content should be interesting.  I should start a new subject in a conversation if I can’t contribute to the current one.  My words shouldn’t hang in the air, my existence shouldn’t float but stand strong, everybody has to know that I am there.  Even is they can’t understand the language they should want to listen.  It is arrogant in a way, the need to prove yourself, to be accepted and to be liked. But it is in us all.

 

The first days I had nothing to contribute so I went to my room, listen to music and read.  3 weeks left to leave I became all me  We played card games, watched TV, discussed the world map, politics  They understood later that my staying away is not my arrogance, not because I thought I was better, in the contrary because I thought I was not enough.

Shreeram was going to meet Macarena in Kathmandu and they were going to come the next day.  So when they knocked on my door that night I was surprised.  There was going to be a strike next day so they came as soon as they could.   We met with Macarena still sleep in my eyes.  Where was Chile, where was Turkey and we had cigarettes, the friendship was instant.  She had graduated from industrial design engineering and wanted to take a break before going on with her life. So she ended up in Nepal.  Nothing would be the same when she goes back.  Some doors you cannot close back. You cannot unlearn what you have learned.

 

Next day I took her to class. She had a mini dress. My crazy and funny students instantly disliked her because of that.  They said her dress is short!  I told them, whether you like her or not she will be here after I am gone. And I taught them the word gossip, I said when you tal about someone behind their back that is gossip.  And if I see anyone gossiping about someone I can definitely say they gossip about me when I am not there.  They laughed. 

We drank coffee that Macarena brought with and we told each other anything you can tell someone you recently met.  First everything was between the lines.  See I am married and this is my husband, this is a wedding photo and  we live in  a big house, he has a restaurant this is his family and they are so nice to me and etc.  Life is great and that kind of shit.

Of course things she has to be careful with when she is here.  You know from the blog that we have a well outside in the yard and I take a bath there. I never thought of heating the water up or I never thought of taking the other mattress from the extra bed to make my bed softer.  I came here to accept the circumstances not to change them.  I adopted, I was happy with them.

Macarena stayed in Shreeram’s brother’s house next to ours.  They have a closed bathroom with a shower.  They have tank on top of the bathroom and the water gets warm by the sun.  She said I could use the shower if I wanted to but I didn’t. I liked my well

When the monsoon started our well was filled up and with the help of a electric pump they filled a tank on top of our bathroom, that I never knew was there, so the shower in our bathroom was also available.  I took one shower there and told them I will keep using the well. They laughed at me. But they also never used the shower.

There is a city nearby, Pokhara. It is 6 hours with a bus drive.  I wanted to see that city very much.  I was planning to travel a little before I left Nepal. But when we talked with Macarena we decided we wanted to go to Pokhara together. We told Sarita to come with us so we would be just the girls, but she said she wouldn’t go without her husband.  We were a little shocked but cultural differences might seem odd at first but we all have them.  You don’t judge them just like personal differences.  You can accept it or not, that’s  your problem after all.

 
 
That made me think what if everybody were the same.  What if there were no different cultures, religions, colours, dreams.  The world would be odd.  Unbearable.  If we all dressed the same, ate the same, believed in the same thing, looked the same Who would ever want that??

But seeing all the wars, racism, the endless hate in people, and endless suffering some have to go through I can say there are unfortunately people who would want that.

Is there anything more horrible and arrogant than trying to make everybody like yourself?

Unfortunately there is always a race or a community that one race or community looks down on.  That’s basically our only difference from animals. We discriminate willingly, consciously, understanding and sculpting it into literary, philosophical and religious forms.  Animals just do it instinctively.

They are better than us Way better.

 



EVERYTHING IS ILLUMINATED


 
 
 
Is it really? No of course not.  I believe that the only moment that everything could slightly have the chance to be illuminated would be the moment we die. That is not even absolute.   But since I am still alive nothing is actually illuminated and I am glad it is not.  If all questions are answered the search will end.  There would be nothing to look for.  But the understanding of certain states comes to you on their own time.   Time resolves everything, if only we didn’t have to wait  Some things are more easily accepted by the mind than they are by the heart.  You need to level your heart to your mind, just like sometimes you need to level your soul to your body.  It is not easily done.  You have to work on it.

 

Now, forget the short story that I told you about the woman who became a victim.  Life has a tendency to bring trouble on you but the truth is we are the ones that find them.  Life is like a map without anything on it.  Just a piece of empty paper showing us we can do anything.  We are the ones to draw the lines, paths, roads, targets. We are the ones to set the limits, make up the borders, and invent obstacles.   I have decided for everything that happened to me, with every choice I made.   Sometimes in my life I knew that the path I chose was not the right one for me, but there is no such thing as right or wrong in our lives through our own eyes.  Everything we do, live, see or experience is just a bump, or scenery on the road.  It might be beautiful at that moment and we may forget it the next moment or it might hurt us in the deepest darkest way but may teach us something we never will forget. 

 

To doubt your choice is the biggest mistake we make.  What we have left behind should be out of the mind and out of the heart.  The choice might seem wrong sometimes, but we can never give up in faith in our selves.  We have to believe only us, nobody else.  This may sound as if I am trying to convince myself

 

My mind wonders sometimes.  Back to Nepal.

After the hierarchy of needs has developed and surprised me, I got use to the slowness of life here.  Waking up at 06:00 but not doing anything until 14:00 became so beautiful after a while.  I read all the books left behind by other volunteers, listen to music, dreamed, wrote, draw  Close to 14:00 I made my lecture plan. 

With the younger children we practically play games in English.  They love it that way.  Their English is so little that without fun they wouldn’t be able to enjoy the class.  Just like it should be.  I realized I missed the childhood that was not corrupted by technology and civilization.   Our generation was the last to enjoy that kind of childhood.  We did have to inform our parents yelling from under the balcony to tell them we were fine while playing on the streets, until sunset, covered with dirt, totally unhygienic.  We weren’t taken away from friends who were sick, we didn’t have cellphones, the food sold on the streets were still poison free, we only had a few toys. Computers, ipads, Xboxes, wiis, ipods were not invented yet.  If our ball was lost we couldn’t go buy a new one, had to find another game to play.  Our moms didn’t disinfect us when we came home,  we buried our dead pets in the yard with ceremonies, nobody secretly put a new one instead.  Those were good times.  Nowadays everything is wrapped up with stretch film, put in jars and stored on shelves.    Seeing these children I remembered my grandmother, she took us directly to bath only when we wet ourselves because playing was so fun and we couldn’t make it in time.  Other times we were told to wash our hands, which the little rebel in me sometimes didn’t.  We would wipe our noses with the sleeves of our tshirts. We never got dysentery.  The ice cream shop didn’t ice cream with salmonella.  We ate from the street corners and are all still alive.   A towel in our backs for sweat in the summer and a pair of gloves in the winter was all we needed to stay alive

 

Yes, times have changed, education has changed, diseases have evolved but how about what we have?  Nowadays there are no children left who would sleep with their new shoes beside them, keep the toys in their original boxes They don’t appreciate anything and nothing is enough for them.  Because they have everything.  Because we buy them everything.  We buy them anything we couldn’t have.  10 year olds have computers, cellphones, ipads, guitars  Nobody should ask what we did wrong, it obvious

 

 
Children here play with stones, bottle caps.  They do their own homeworks, finish chores in the house to come to my class.  They come because they want to, they don’t have nice clothes, fancy notebooks, or cool pencils.  But when the class is finished, they throw themselves on the floor and scream no finish!!  They eat nothing but rice and lentils, they don’t have a room of their own, but I never saw them crying over something, except the day I left..