Independence Day

It's the morning of the 5th, about 7:30. For once, Kevin is the only one still asleep. Usually, the other three of us are up around 6, only to find that Kevin has already disappeared on his morning run. Alan wasn't feeling that well last night, and he slept like a rock after dinner. Catching up on some sleep probably wasn't a bad thing, and I think he's doing a bit better today. I was totally going to try and post my thoughts yesterday when I got back to the house, but I never got around to it. Here's what I remember:

We woke up on the fourth to the wonderful smell of French toast. Any smell other than Dahl Badt, the staple of the Nepali diet, is a wonderful smell. It consists of a plate full of white rice, with a few curried vegetables (cauliflower and potatoes usually) on the side, and a side of lentil soup which is to be poured on the rice. It is usually eaten at both of the main Nepali mealtimes, the 7AM breakfast and the 7PM dinner. Sometimes, it makes its way into the lunch menu as well. Kevin and I made some sandwiches for breakfast: cornflakes held together with nutella and honey book-ended by two pieces of French toast.

The four musketeers headed out at around 9. I brought the point-and-shoot today, which is indeed a lot more convenient than the Nikon D70. I guess mom and dad were right this time. We were accompanied by a Nepali girl living in the house and one of the ABV coordinators, as well as another volunteer who was about to experience her first day as well. Jen is 23 and has been volunteering at third world women's societies across the world since she got out of college. Very cool. What wasn't cool was the walk to find her program placement; our plan was to all escort her to her project, then to escort Kevin and Lars to theirs, and then to the kids center where Alan and I would be. We walked up the main road looking for Jen's placement for a bit before veering out of the city.

Garbage and sewage is mercilessly dumped in the rivers which line the main roads of Kathmandu.

I was surprised by how far we had walked once I realized we were literally leaving the Kathmandu valley. After a few wrong turns, we eventually dropped Jen off at her placement. We decided to take a bus back to Helping Hands, where we would drop off Kevin and Lars. Kevin's height did not mix well with the buses of Kathmandu; he often found himself hitting his head on the roof or jamming his bug-bitten legs against the seat in front of him when the buses (very questionable suspension systems) hit bumps in the road. Breakfast is ready right now so I'm going to try and hurry this up.

Alan and I arrived at the Koseli kids center at about 2PM. After a quick meet and greet with the owners, we were guided around into each of the (six?) different classrooms, split up by grade level. When we opened the door to the open rooms, the children stopped what they were doing to stand up and sing to us in unison. The fully dressed kids remained standing until they were told to be seated by the owner. The kids refer to us as "Sir". Then, we got our assignments. I was put into a first grade class, and was given three kids who were struggling to individually look after and mentor. The owner spoke English well, and told me how as the level of trauma of an orphan increases, their level of performance decreases. The three first-graders I was assigned are ages 7, 8, and 15. We hadn't eaten all day, so we scarfed some thrilling Dahl Badt for lunch.

After lunch, we were thrown into the classrooms to finish up the day with the kids. Luckily, their level of English is better than my Nepali. Nevertheless, they were entertained by my attempts to say "My name is Mike" in their native tongue. The first few minutes were awkward, they just looked at me with wide eyes. I had no direction, and had no idea if they would understand if I spoke to them in English. It was definitely a feeling of independence, I was running the show and had no idea how to do it. But after a few minutes, I loosened up and realized I just needed to give them attention. I think most of them come from the same slums, so all of the kids get along together quite well. I rounded out the day playing with them, and pulled out my entertainment trump card of the day: a map of Kathmandu. For me, it was a lifeline. For the kids, it was mesmerizing.

After we get back to the house, I usually spend some time playing with Photoshop.

First Impressions:
I was surprised by how organized Koseli was. I expected a bunch of kids to be divided into a few rooms with no sense of academic curriculum or rank. Apparently, they just expanded to a new location with more area outdoors for the kids to play. The kids have been disciplined very well, as I noticed when they first started singing to us. They are dressed in uniforms and each have their own workbooks which seem to be completed in an orderly fashion. They cannot wait to learn, I have never seen kids so excited to read. When there was a lull in conversation, they would go out of their way to ask me "Sir, how you say ______?" while pointing to words they were unsure about. It's going to be interesting working with the langauge barrier, but I know that the kids will be responsive to any sort of attention I give them. My first day was spent with more grunting and funny faces than speaking English.

Okay, I'm really hungry. The other boys have already eaten and Kevin is hopping in the shower. I should probably get ready, we've got a long day ahead of us. Today, the owner is planning on taking us to the slums where they grow up. I think I'm going to take the D70 and the point-and-shoot, today is going to bear some memorable images and I'm going to need every perspective I can get.

Cheers,
Mike