Spring adventures and Nepal

21/April/2010 A Cacophony of Experience

The strangest of worlds we live in. The past three weeks have been filled with the most extremes of experiences, all of which have been amazing. LAHR had her first birthday, Lexton his (not first birthday) John and I had our anniversary, Isaiah his birthday, New York, meeting Steven Sondheim (shut up Chrissy) Bloodsong of Love with featured daughter Katrina—many activities. And to top it all, the volcano in Iceland that has stranded passengers, and we hope not us!

Mumbai, Kathmandu and refugee camps. We had dramas with our tickets, and somehow John managed to frighten the purser. Who knows how… We arrived in Mumbai at midnight and took a hysterical taxi ride to our hotel. The taxi driver spoke no English, nor did he know where our hotel was located. We drove around the empty streets of Mumbai. He stopped at each corner and asked directions none of which apparently helped him. Finally I saw the hotel sign. Three hrs of “sleep” & 4 hrs. later we were on our way back to the airport. We found that the hotel was not 1.5 hours away from the airport, but rather 10 minutes. Similar answers, you are going Domestic? No, we are going international…Domestic? No, International a minute passes, Domestic? No International. We were dropped off at the Domestic side of the airport, and then—oh no International and finally we checked in.


Arriving at Kathmandu was a familiar experience, as the airport arrival is small and general chaos seems to be a theme. Our friend met us & settled us in the International Guest House ( hard beds FYI). “Shattered” as she said, we engaged in meetings with the UNCHR, and TPO, two main agencies involved with the Bhutanese Refugees. Happily, we were given permission to go the camps and do some assessment. We prepared for our flight to Bhadrapur and the trip to the refugee camp near Damak.


As we drove through the streets, thought of what Gordon & Doug would think of the city today. It is trekking time, & nearly all our guest house are trekkers getting ready to hike the mountains & Everest itself. It was hard to imagine these stringy and/or smoking youth loaded up with gear would be successful in climbing the highest mountain on earth. The narrow streets of Kathmandu are ready for them as everything is on sale.

12-hour electricity. This means rotating hours, always posted, thank goodness I have my battery fan.


Nothing about the preparation experience really made up for flying to Bhadrapur & Damak and the camps. Yeti airlines are tiny planes, carry-ons on our laps. The highlight was flying right next to the Himalayas, and the high peaks of Everest and surrounding. It was not a clear day, but was awesome just the same. Jutting peaks of snow, while underneath desolate land, tiny farmers attempting to force corn to grow, & harvesting pathetic grass for the buffalo and cows. As we walked off the plane, we met members of IOM (the major immigration organization) and quickly tried to manage a meeting-sadly not to be. I thought of Vietnam, then Ethiopia, then Moshi, Then back again.

People bravely eking out an existence on land that is totally dry with sudden monsoons flooding the area making some areas completely inaccessible.





Our hotel, Damark View Guest House, had no power but we were assured we would have it later. We toured Damak courtesy of Katy, a young woman doing her Fulbright with UNHCR. We had lunch at the "Fine" Restaurant-note the dot of the i are lips! Currently, she works with causes of persons declining to resettle.


We also bought some diet cokes for John, and noticed that the window of the shop displayed only healthy products, particularly nutritional supplies for babies. That is quite unlike the alcohol and sweets products that we saw elsewhere.


It is 2067 here in Nepal. We arrived on the New Year. This means parties everywhere; thus not a lot of sleep on our hard mattresses in our Guest House.


We had an amazing visit to the refugee camps after we met with various aide agencies involved in the camps. They are working hard. People have many problems. Most agreed that things were better before the resettlement began because they had an identity in the camps and better organizations & schools; however, many are eager to resettle. 22 years in these camps seemed to be both comforting and horrible because there are so many restrictions on what activities the refugees can participate in. By the time we had come, most of the higher classes had already left. This means that the best teachers were already gone, and those speaking the best English.



(This is the way food and water are heated-great environmental soundness isn't it!)
Still, groups meet to try to work out the best arrangements that they have, and information sessions take place with questions and answers about resettlement and mental health meetings occur to try to solve some of the very difficult problems occurring in the camp. There is quite a lot of alcohol use particularly at night because of no electricity and nothing to do. We met with individuals and families who have many dreams, but many problems. I must admit it was overwhelming. Most of these people do not know where they are going until a few days before their departure, and some have been waiting for 2 years to hear if they are accepted for resettlement.

We also flew out with refugees, which was a wrenching experience and knowledge that the volcano had stopped air traffic through Europe was dreadful news to us for these people who are headed to a totally new world. I believe our students will have a fulfilling 6 weeks in the camps and return with a better understanding of global complexities.






Kathmandu has a plethora of religion & history. The day after returning from the camps, we toured 3 holy spots. We were escorted close to 1 cremation and 1 preparation for cremation. Somehow it didn’t seem grotesque or horrifying because the bodies were so well draped and prepared. We went to a Mother Theresa Hospital for the Elderly. We saw “holy men” whose faces were painted in dreadful colors. Buddhist and Hindu temples that sort of mixed together were overshadowed by the most famous Bodha-lovely and calming. The last day of “festival” was the day we left so we experienced many drum & dancing teams (questionable quality), tons of people & fanfare. Highly recommend the Northfield Café-fabulous reasonable food. Some day, it would be wonderful to return.



Don't worry all, the Maoist flag (mostly flown near the Damak area) signifies the presence of very peaceful Maoist's in the area. Several local people asked us why the US keeps Nepal on the countries who are dangerous because of the Maoists. We don't know either, and it hardly seems fair to such a kind place.

Winter Wonderland Reprise

Winter Wonderland 2

Remember the winter wonderland? The awe at the snow, beauty, trees loaded with white stuff and the nice feeling when you snuggled up with a fire and watched the white stuff pour down?

Well, not anymore.
The multiple reruns of winter wonderland have one thinking…Why? The weather has not warmed up much here at home, but in Boone? Not at all. This weekend was the crowning blow.


The harbinger of our weekend appeared as we drove past one of the Baptist Churches while approaching Boone.

It had been cold when we left Boone, but the temperature dropped precipitously as we entered Watauga County. Banks of clouds hovered over us as the truck climbed through Boone and out towards the cabin. We were pleased to see that Larry had plowed our road, even past the switchback and the truck ground its way to the top for the first time since Thanksgiving. But, when I entered the house with the kitty, I could see my breath and knew that all was not right.

We had no heat. Not only did we have no heat but we had no heat in our oven or stove. The propane was gone. John’s last call to the gas company had been reassuring. On February 15th, we had 80% of our tank full. I was skeptical, but willing to accept such news. However, clearly, the news was erroneous for some reason, and here we were with no heat. We quickly started a fire and John called the company. My indoor thermometer read just under 40 degrees and falling. “Roger” came out to the house and together John and he read the grim news from the tank. “0”%. Roger looked at John and solemnly told him that there was no way the propane truck could get up the mountain. John equally solemnly told Roger that they would get propane up the mountain.

I believe that everyone has to cherish moments for what they are. We did not freeze to death thank goodness, as we did have our fire, and we had many blankets. We could see our breath in every room of the house, and we worried about our pipes all night. But we were warm under our down comforters and in our long underwear. Roger arrived around noon with a small propane tank. After multiple hours, the house warmed to 62, and we felt toasty warm. This tank should last one week.

As we left Boone for the low lands, we looked at the small lonely tank of propane and prayed for better weather, some melting of snow, and a way for the propane truck to grind its way up our mountain. Ray’s weather calls for one day of sun, and one day of temperatures above freezing. He is seldom wrong, but maybe this time. Just maybe.

Christmas and the Afterward

Always Christmas is surreal. A flurry of activity. A Christmas tree bought from TROSA, climbing into the attic which only has only a few walking boards. If you miss the board you fall through the ceiling onto the floor of the lower living room (I have not done that yet so I cannot report on how it would feel, but it is quite scary to be in the back of a dark low attic where boxes from times past are carefully stowed {some dating back to my parents years}). But each Christmas box comes out, then goes temporarily back until the end of the season and the boxes are carefully loaded up, just to be found again next year.

My children have always given me grief because I feel that every ornament, even the physically challenged ones, should go on the tree. I used to insist on all the lights until we blew fuses regularly. Now that the children live elsewhere and arrive at the last minute, I can put all the ornaments on the tree that I want. They are, of course, long gone when I take the tree down, so I do have a lengthy day with all the ornaments that have their own special place.

They all try to arrive for brother Jim’s Christmas concert at The Cave. And they are never disappointed when they make it. This year Kate and Chris drove in at the beginning of the 2nd set. You could just see the happiness on Jim’s face, and on theirs. How does that make the mother feel? Fabulous.




Then there are the Christmas cookies, my grandmother’s recipe. This year Michelle, Lexton and Lyriella were here. Lexton (I cannot understand this) declined to participate but helped Lyriella keep her fingers out of the dough and icing. But even then, with all five sibs together for the event, the cookies were spectacular. Credit goes to everyone, (Michelle's sense of humor was an added bonus) but an absent Ariel certainly had her touches as Isaiah made it through the entire process and actually created cookies that were amazingly inventive! Both brothers commented on how fabulous the cookies were this year. When I was reduced to making loaves because last batch of dough wouldn’t roll, they just took in stride and made creative stuff (?) out of it.
Princess Leia made from either an angel cookie cutter or a bat!
Isaiah finally had enough and decided to change flour clothes for clean ones, but LAHR and Lexton came to surf the sugar.

The flurry always speeds up on Christmas Day because the family has their other families, and so a schizophrenic pace kicks in. Presents, always thoughtful and creative, are opened, long distance family called, John racing after paper before the gift is even fully unwrapped with a garbage bag, kitties facing off, and now adorable Lyriella trying to decide if she will nap, or if it would mean that she would miss too much. Though she chose the latter, her parents would have none of it and she wound up sleeping for 2 hours! Then as they arrive back from respective other families off we go to Jim and Anne’s daughter and son-in-law’s and their children for another fabulous evening.


Hmmm Lyriella seems to feature heavily in these pictures. Wonder why?


Hats were traded around, but this was the original...a scream!

It didn't take LAHR much time to learn where the camera was and to fake snuggling with her mother while mugging to the camera!
Kate's boyfriend arrives as Isaiah leaves and the others begin to pack up. Nice timing though.
We finish Christmas season with the whimper that most do probably. Each family member slips away, back to their apartments, some near some far, some on an airplane, some by car. The house is in chaos and the poor Christmas tree is dropping needles as if to shed a tear. Boxes are repacked and hauled to the treacherous attic, the Christmas tree lugged to the street where it will be removed as waste.

Thus, begins the dark time. It is cold. Bones hurt, it is still dark, the birds want fresh food as the old is clumped up from freezing and getting damp; thus, curling in a ball seems the most productive way to spend time. Looking forward, not back does not seem possible. But there you have it. A candle is held out—Haiti?, China? Nepal? A bright sunny day? (ha) Recorder practice? Work? Freezing mountain trips?

New books? Oh well, ok. Let’s get on with it.

I do miss Tanzania where everything was the same. And sometimes the remembering is enough.



So let us press on to the new year. 2010. Congratulations to the survivors.

Winter Wonderland

Usually I am a rather conservative person when it comes to weather. Though I think that snow is pretty awesome, I don't remember being fearless driving in it since I was in graduate school and living in Boston. I had Ravishing Ruby The Truckstop Child at the time, a beautiful red Subaru, who could traverse nasty Boston Slush, Blizzards on Interstates or in town, and take crazy night trips with friends when you literally couldn't see anything in front of you. Ruby was a good girl, and I miss her. When our first Christmas at our cabin in Boone in 1998 was marked with a wild snow/ice/snow/ice storm and we spun around backwards with the Suburban filled with dad, Katrina, Allison, Julia, two golden retrievers and a cat, I knew that I didn't want to drive in this weather again if possible.

So here I am, nearly 61, and my youthful husband greets me this morning with a hearty, "Well, last night's storm was crappy, let's see if we can get to Boone." I was not enthusiastic for an hour or so, but then joined in the delight. Sadly, we don't have a Suburban anymore, nor do I think I can ride in the Subaru for 4 hours, but, we hopped in the Toyota (without kitty) and made the trek. All was well until we hit Wilkesboro where plowing seemed to have bogged down. Still, the roads were pretty clear until we started up the road that leads to our house. And when we came through Mr. Brooks house, I was definitely worried. This was a good worry as we only drove past the first side road and were stuck. Fortunately for us, Brooks' son was plowing, and after he drove past us, we were able to manage to slide our way up as far as the switchback.


So here we are with a beautiful afternoon, evening, and walk around the neighborhood. WNCW is playing beautiful bluegrass Christmas music, and there is the possibility of 4 more inches of snow tonight. If we get snowed in???? Oh well as far as I am concerned. Kitty has plenty of food, water, and warm blankets all around her, so we will be just fine in the "hills of Caroline".

Uganda's Proposed New Laws

http://www.newsobserver.com/news/nation_world/story/231756.html

I promise that Purina Chow was not recruiting my children. They did want him to come to their birthday party, but mostly they just love him. They think about how he shaped their growing up lives by being fun, honest, and helpful and loving them back. What a wonderful experience for them. They won't forget it.

Brutal anti-gay laws proposed in Uganda

I really don’t want to write more horrified sad blogs, but it seems that the world just won’t cooperate. This morning, in the middle of a terrific thunderstorm (snow in 10 days?) I read that Uganda is proposing passing laws that could actually impose the death penalty for persons who were homosexual, and that the backing for these laws is coming from Christian Conservatives. Families who support their children can be beaten, evicted, and fired from their jobs. (Of course the gays and lesbians who are “out” automatically are evicted and fired presumably before being put to death.

As it turns out, this isn’t the only country where automatically gays and lesbians are presumed to be “recruiting children”, as if that would actually happen. Africa might seem to be a leader in this propaganda against gays and lesbians, but when you look deeper, you see colonialism alive and well and “Christianity” seems to be at the root. This type of Christianity which justifies murder just seems like a foreign concept. Would Jesus justify murder under any circumstances? I cannot imagine it. And I feel like years and years of working with gay men and lesbians, and trying to help them “come out of the closet” so that they can FEEL normal and not ashamed is swirling ever more quickly down the drain.

As for AIDS prevention and treatment, this attitude towards homosexuality simply squashes prevention efforts as they speak only towards one population. Just trying to include prevention work for men who have sex with men in an environment where this act could confer death, is impossible.

Our world is a scary place, and the agenda of the conservative Christian leaders only makes it scarier.

What would Jesus do?