Lessons from Nepal

Note: I hav decided to post the blogs on Tuesday morning; less pressure to write over the week-ends

Last night my wife Yvette and I invited to dinner four Nepali women who are students at Keene State College: Puja, Benajil, Slesha, and Gargi. Three of the women are recipients of the KSC/Little Sisters Fund scholarship. The Little Sisters Fund helps economically disadvantaged Nepali girls to become empowered leaders through education, mentoring, and community support.

I made a full Nepali meal, and we asked them about their studies, their families, and their life in Nepal. They knew that I had gone back to Nepal twice in the past 10 years, and they also wanted to hear about my time in Nepal. Here are some of the stories that touched them.

A different way of seeing the world

Before I came to Salyan, the village where I taught for two years, there had been three American volunteers in the village before me, and I heard about them all the time. One of the volunteers hauled baking supplies from Kathmandu, which involved a plane trip and then 30 miles of walking up and down the mountains and along the river. He had improvised an oven from an empty 5 gallon kerosene can, and he baked pies and cakes for many of the festivals. Another volunteer was very outgoing, so he danced and sang and drank at the festivals. Another was so fluent that he not only read Nepali poetry but also wrote poetry in Nepali. The villagers loved all three men and talked about them often.

One day, before a festival, as I heard the stories again, I said that it was hard for me to hear all these stories, because I didn’t bake, I wasn’t a dancer and drinker, and my Nepali was so-so. After a few moments of stunned silence, one of the teachers blurted: “but you teach.”

And I did. On my own, I taught in introduction to English course for adults before school and an conversational English class after school. I also tutored two students who wanted to become the first students from that village to pass the entrance exams and be admitted to the national university in Kathmandu. And they did.

What I realized in that moment, is that unlike Americans, my Nepali friends were not comparing or ranking the four American volunteers. Rather they were celebrating each of us, as though one was a ruby, one an emerald, one a sapphire, and one a diamond. Each having a preciousness of their own.

Returning to Nepal

When I went to Nepal in 2012 with my two adult children, we returned to Salyan, where I had lived when I was not much older than their present ages. When I went to the school, I was asked to give a talk to the teachers (three of whom had been colleagues on mine) and to all the students. In my broken Nepali, I told them that while I had initially come to help the Nepali people, I had received so much more from them.

In Nepal, when a child cries, you pick them up, the belief being that you cannot spoil a young child by loving them too much. I learned that children are not expected to sleep alone in another room. When our children were young, Yvette and I put two mattresses side by side on the bedroom floor and the children knew they were welcome in our bed whenever they wanted. These are just some of the many ways the people of Nepal impacted my way of being in the world, ways that connected me more to myself and to those I love.

A story that has stayed with me

In 1981, I was talking to my closest Nepali friend. We had both decided we were ready to get married and settle down. He told me that he would be asking his parents to find him a wife, arranged marriages still being traditional in Nepal. I was surprised by this and told him so. His response has stayed with me all this time.

He offered one explanation: Let’s say you have a ‘good’ marriage, let’s say, 90% great and 10% not so great—personality traits and habits of your spouse that you just don’t like. He said that a Nepali is likely to feel so lucky that it’s 90% great and an American is more likely to grumble about the 10%, wishing it were 5%. I’ve remembered that so many times over the years: where do we focus our attention and energy?

Final reflections

So many of us in the US struggle to accept things as they are, to let go, to be kind and generous. These are qualities that are deeply embedded into the culture in Nepal. During the last four years, spending much time at the nearby monastery which is in the Thai tradition, I have learned that this is largely true in Thailand also.

Sitting around our dining room table, hearing the four women talk about their lives in Nepal and their hopes for the future, Yvette and I were struck by their intelligence, inquisitiveness, maturity, warmth, and humor. They are all working hard to both maximize their own individual potential as well as serve their beloved homeland of Nepal.

After I had taken the women home, Yvette and I felt a calmness, a quietness, and a sense of gratitude for what we have and for what we have been given. I was again reminded of how lucky I was to have lived in Nepal for several years and how much richer my life has been because of my experiences with Nepali people.

May all beings be happy, be peaceful, be free.