To be completely honest, I have not yet shed a single tear.  Maybe thats just the Irish Catholic side of me.  But to continue being honest, I feel torn up inside.  Over the past six months I have grown quite fond of the kids at Kopila Valley.  I had to say goodbye to my first two kids a few days before I left because they were leaving to visit some family members and would not return until I was already gone.  It was a strange experience, though in hind sight it happened as I believe it should have.  We hugged and I wished them the best, they told me they would miss me and told me I needed to come back soon, and then they walked out the gate without hardly a glance back.  They are young and have their whole lives ahead of them.  With so much to look forward to, why bother looking back?  I can only hope that I left them with something meaningful enough to give them cause to reflect.  

However, even after that experience it hadn't yet set in that I was leaving.  I knew it, but it simply didn't feel like it.  I spent extra time with the kids over the next two days just to make sure I got my fill.  We played some games, read some stories, and watched some movies.  None of it felt like it was enough.  To put it simply, I love these kids and I'm pretty sure they have had a bigger effect on my life than I have on theirs.  That certainly isn't what I intended to happen but I think I'm coming to realize that's just what happens when you only have six short months with them.  

Last night I shared my last satsung with the kids.  The night before I was asked by some of the kids to do something special for it, and one of the suggestions was to do a dance.  Seeing as I only really have one move, (and its not very smooth) I did the only logical thing and decided to lower myself even further.  I wrote the kids the cheesiest poem I could muster.  Even as I write this post from the New Delhi airport I am debating with myself over whether or not to share it.  Well, this is my first draft and I currently have a tiny bit of extra courage so I'll copy and paste it into the post for now.  The next time I have internet again and am able to post this will be decision time so you'll know what I ultimately decided.  

"Goodbye Kopila

Kids, girls and guys, I'm not very good at goodbyes.  I always find that there is more I wish I said, which is why I will just call this a 'see you later' instead.

I hope you are all aware of just how much I love each of you.  From the Nishas and Gomas, to Maya and Bindu.

From Naveen and Nabin, to Karma, Panka, Sanju and Shivoo.

Yugi, Monica, and Hansa, Sabita, Janak and Ganga.

Krishna Shahi, and Krishna Bogati, Kalpana, Dipak and Hari.

Rupa, Bishal and Birendra. Kamal, Namraj and Narendra.

Santosh, Shova, and Shanti. Sundar, Sagar and BBC.

Madan, Madan, Bhakta and Padam

Tomorrow I will travel to Nepalgunj, Kathmandu and New Delhi, all the while missing you immensely.   Before I go I hope you can learn just one thing from me.  Always remember to have fun and be happy.  Life can be hard, it can be scary.  But next time you are feeling down or feeling stuck, just remember there is always time for some chuck chuck.

Now before this poem gets too sappy, lets all focus on being happy. Be good for the volunteers, and especially Maggie.  Until we meet again, continue to learn, love and grow.  You all have wonderful lives ahead of you, that I certainly know.

We will keep in touch, but in case I didn't say it enough, I love you all so very much."

For the record, "chuck chuck" means misbehaving.

Anyways, leaving this morning was another strange experience.  In the car ride from Kopila to the Nepalgunj airport I was struck with a seemingly ill fitting sense of deja vu.  I have done the same drive before, but I don't think that's what did it for me.  Things were so much different this time around.  It was a different season.  The last time I left it was late December, cold and dark.  This time it was late April, bright and comfortably cool.  Although it is spring in Nepal, it felt and looked very much like a beautiful fall day.  The air was crisp, leaves were falling and changing colors, for reasons beyond me, and there seemed to be a sense of urgency as there often is in late autumn.  I have a feeling the sense of urgency was something no one else shared with me, but it added to that very feeling of an impending winter.  You know that feeling, when squirrels are scrambling to stock up on acorns, birds are booking it south, and students are cramming for finals.  For me I think it was the feeling that I hadn't done enough for the kids and wanted to go back and do just one more thing.  Teach them just one more lesson.  Play just one more trick.  What did I forget to leave them with?  It's a hard feeling to sit with.  But like the first two kids I had to say goodbye to and like the river today, gushing a deep blue green, just moving forward without hesitation, I guess we all must do the same.

I can't believe I'm about to publish this post with the poem still in it.  It's embarrassing as all hell, but I guess it drives home the point I wanted to make most.  A point I don't think I really need to reiterate.  I'm sure you all know it, and I know the kids all know it.

I know I said this in my last post, but thank you all again for reading.  This goes for my Nepali readers as well.  Lalit, Hikmat, Sangeet. Kesav, Ram, and Raj.  Min, Lalit, Rajesh, the rest of the Kopila Valley staff, Maggie, and Top.  Even those who can't read my posts, Amrika, Laxmi, Shankar and everyone else who made the past six months in Nepal so unbelievable.  You've made writing this blog easy and so very worth it, as well as shaped a life that may have otherwise foolishly thought was done being shaped.  Please continue shaping the rest of the lives that need it so much more than I do.  I'll miss you all and I can't wait to come back.

I swear this is the closest I've come to shedding a tear in a long time.  I think the only thing holding me back is the guy who is either sleeping in a chair next to me or staring at me through the sunglasses he is wearing inside the airport at 10:45pm.  I can't tell what he's doing, but I then again I can't really tell what I'm doing either.  I'm somewhere between laughter and tears.  Between hope and urgency.  Between spring and fall.

...Trying to come up with something to blog about.  I only have 9 or 10 days left here, depending upon available flights to Kathmandu.  The school year and final exams are all finished.  We've been preparing for the next school year, which will start April 25th, just a few days after I leave unfortunately, and playing lots of family games with the kids.  It's an enjoyable way to spend my remaining time here.  I at least get to have some impact on the next school year, even though I can't be here for it, and have fun with the kids, all of whom I've grown close to over these past 6 months.

Before I forget to do this, I'd just like to take the time to thank all of you, my readers, who have been very supportive and encouraging.  Believe it or not, you have made this project much more enjoyable.  I was able to share my thoughts with so many of you who were eager to learn about my experiences here, which in turn helped me to reflect a little more, making them that much more valuable.  As I'm sure you are all aware, shared experiences are something to be valued, and seeing as I got to share this one over 5,000 times in the past 6 months makes me feel extremely lucky.  That's right, over 5,000 views.  I never imagined that I would have so many readers, many of whom have been kind enough to tell me how much they've enjoyed following my disjunct ramblings.  It encouraged me in my writing and the work that I've done here.

I am going to try and write a few more posts, so please don't stop following yet.  But if there is anything I didn't address in my posts that you would like to know about, and I'm sure that there's lots, this would be the time to let me know.  On that note (this one's for you, Rosa), we did have a run in with some interesting wildlife the other day.  We had a scorpion in the house.  Unfortunately the little guy was crushed and discarded before I could get a picture or even identify what kind it was, but pretty cool nonetheless.  We also had a volunteer get attacked in the middle of the night by a flying cockroach.  I was unaware they could sprout wings and do anything other than scuttle across the floor like the disease ridden creatures spawned from the under wold that they are.  As it gets warmer here the bugs seem to be mounting their seasonal attack once again.  Though I am retreating in a few days, I am admitting no defeat.  I hope to be back in the future to check in on these kids who will be holding down the fort.  I know that they are in great hands here but that hardly makes it easier to leave.

Again, thank you all for reading and for all of your kind words.  Perhaps I'll be able to convert my experiences here into another project one day and be able to share that with you all as well.  But for now it's time to find a project I will be able to sustain myself on (or at least begin to approach the ability to do so).  I realize this is an unusual forum to go about this sort of thing, but I'm quite open to suggestions.

Enjoy some "family game" pictures.

   

The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.

I tried to write this post last week but I've been very busy over the past few days trying to help Jeff prepare for the next school year, which will begin on April 25th, a few days after I leave.  But last Wednesday we celebrated Holi, the festival of color.  I'm sure a lot of you have seen pictures of this holiday or even celebrated it yourselves, but it is celebrated quite uniquely.  I forget the purpose of the holiday (this isn't a history lesson, look it up if you must know), as I'm sure many Indians and Nepalis have.  It is kind of like a Halloween or a Mardi Gras, in that the holiday has lost its meaning to many celebrants but is still celebrated with all the fervor one could muster.  It is a no holds barred sort of holiday as well.

How to celebrate:
Step 1- buy multiple colors of tikka (powdered dye).
Step 2- change into clothes you don't mind getting stained.
Step 3-  Keep on your guard.
Step 4-  Pummel friends, family, neighbors, strangers and innocent bystanders with said tikka powder.

It is a blast.  Thank whichever gods fell in love and gave birth to this beautiful holiday.  For Holi we decided to stay out of town and keep a lid on all of the fun as apparently things have been known to get a little violent on occasion.  As you can imagine, getting a fistful of tikka powder in the face from a complete stranger is not going to be the most pleasant thing.  And if you don't have great self control, good humor, or enough patience, things have the potential to go awry.  So we went to the beach (the Bheri River) where we were free to plaster each other with red, green, pink, yellow, and blue.  Let me tell you one thing, it does not taste very good, though I'm pretty sure we all ate some.  I spat pink for hours and I was told the other day I still have some in my ear.  Everyone who partook was colored from head to toe.  Thankfully somebody had the foresight to bring soap and shampoo so we could bathe right there in the river, before the tikka had time to really set in.  Every time Maggie's father washed his face off one of the aunties would run over and throw more tikka in his face.  He eventually gave up trying to wash it off and consequently still has a red tint about his forehead.

I didn't get many pictures from the event because I was afraid to have my camera ruined.  I will try to get some pictures from Ben though and update this post with a few.

Update: just borrowed a bunch of pictures from Ben- here you go.

The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.

So for the past few weeks one of the 3rd grade girls has been begging me to come visit her house after school, but the tricky part was that she lives two hours from school.  It was really difficult to find time at first, especially with soccer practice everyday.  But this past Friday I finally succumbed to little Laxmi's pleas.  It was actually very nice.  Instead of walking two hours to her house Laxmi sat on the back luggage rack of a bicycle and we rode about an hour to her home.  We rode down the road past the market, past the bus park and past the airport, until it became noticeably less populated again.  It was then that we turned down another, smaller road, which was lined with small shops but surrounded by sprawling fields of rice and other crops.  In the distance were a few small, rolling hills freckled with modest homes, some made of cement, others of mud and corrugated tin roofs.  We stopped at a temple along the way.  It had a beautiful garden with some awesome and very old trees.  Laxmi lived about halfway up one of the hills in a mud and corrugated tin roof house.  It was simple living for her and her family, but she lived in a very happy neighborhood.  After meeting everyone we shared some chow chow (ramen noodles), passed around a soccer ball, jumped rope, and played 20 million questions.  One of the more interesting exchanges went something a little like, "Where are you from?" "America." "You invented the atom bomb, no?" "Hah, um, yes we did" "Do you live in town or village?..."  Its funny how kids can throw you curveballs like that, even when living as remotely as they do.  I then shared a few snickers bars with everyone and departed shortly after.  Laxmi is already trying to make a weekly thing of it.

In other news, our numbers just grew significantly today.  Maggie has returned after being away for two months, bringing with her the famed Jeff DiLollo and a new volunteer named Ally.  A few hours after their arrival and the huge welcome wagon that attended it, Safira's parents arrived.  So with five more people staying here, and one more due to arrive in a few days, we have a packed house and a lot of excited children.  We will see how satsung (our nightly meeting and prayer) goes, I have a feeling it will get out of hand.  Usually we only have to play the question game with one new person upon their arrival, but now it seems we will have to play with three.  Anyway, it is good to have new guests among us and to have old guests back.


The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.

Nena, the Wellness Fellow here at Kopila, found out yesterday that a few of her friends were passing though Surkhet and would have liked to see her.  They did end up visiting today after spending several weeks trecking around Nepal.  What did we decide to do with these weary travelers, you might ask?  Take them on a hike up the hills behind Kopila Valley.  These "hills" mind you, would most definitely pass as mountains in the United States.  Some of the smaller Appalachians most likely, but mountains none the less.  I have done this hike twice in the past and it gets easier every time I do it, but it is about a two hour hike full of steep inclines to the top where there is a small restaurant of sorts that makes chow chow (basically Ramen Noodles).  We took a bunch of the kids with us as well, but kept it open to only the older kids.  The younger ones start asking to be carried about halfway to the top.

After sitting on top of the restaurant for about half an hour, relaxing with a few of the faster kids in front of some spectacular scenery, and eating some chow chow, we began to hear some grumblings about going to this place that I have not heard referred to as anything other than, "the place where the Rhododendrons grow."  It sounds like a Shell Silverstein poem and is even more beautiful, though for different reasons.  None of the other volunteers wanted to go today because they had been recently, but  17 of the kids wanted desperately to go.

So after lunch on the roof of the mountaintop restaurant, 17 kids and I hiked up an even steeper peak for about 40 minutes.  We came to a lightly wooded area full of tall thin pines and tall golden grass, with an old stone wall lining the ridge.  We walked along it for a few minutes until a single red spot appeared in the distance amidst all of the brown, gold and green we were surrounded by.  It was a single bright red cluster of flowers, Nepal's national flower, the Rhododendron.  Everyone had spotted it and at that moment there was a flurry of children hopping over the ridge to run to the steep hillside which was the place known as, where the Rhododendrons grow.

As I came over the ridge the color scheme changed completely.  It turned into a mix of deep greens and gold, all flecked with a very rich red.  The kids were climbing tall branchy trees to get at these flowers like a troop of monkeys in a fig tree.  Some of them took their shirts off and used them like bags to fill up with the flowers.  Apparently you can eat them and they don't taste too bad.  Its a kind of sweet flavor followed by a tart after taste.  The kids whose shirts were being used as bags had red juices dripping down their chins and bodies, but their messes were accompanied by purest looks of happiness.

I soaked in the beautiful landscape for a while from where the Rhododendrons grow and enjoyed a flower or two before we decided it was time to go back home.  The kids had their shirts stuffed with flowers making it look like they were carrying severed torsos down the mountain.  They snacked on even more of the flowers the whole way down, which took us only a little under 30 minutes.  Going down such steep terrain isn't easy, but we all made it down in one piece.  Then it was about another hour to an hour and a half of hiking down the original mountain.  We went down a different way and got to see some other areas of the mountainside I haven't seen before.

Now that I'm home with a big blister on the bottom of my toe I just have to say how worth it that extra very difficult 40 minute hike was. That was easily the most fun I've had in a while.  Just looking at the pictures from today validates how worth it the blister is.

The far side of the peak on the right is where the Rhododendrons grow.  The restaurant is at the foot of the peak

The ridge

Over the ridge, and the kids scattering out to loot the trees 

 Some rice paddies amongst the Rhododendrons

Krishna Shahi reaching out 

Taking in the view 

Some of the boys stocking up 

The group and their loot 

The easy way down the Rhododendron peak 

A new path down the mountain

The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.

Just noticed it's been a while since my last post and thought I'd give everyone an update.  Nothing major is going on at Kopila Valley except for the absence of one of the fellows.  John has departed from Kopila for two months in order to travel around Asia with his brother and to spend some time with his family and friends back home.  Rest assured, he will be back, which has the kids very excited.  But in the mean time we have some major gaps to fill here, most noticeably the dent in the dhal bhat is no longer as large.  Only kidding John, though we have told the aunties to make a little less.

Also, to point out a correction in my previous post, Kalpana Miss has not moved so far away that she can no longer work at Kopila Valley.  She has moved out of her home and moved in with her new husband's family but she will still be working with us, which is great news.  I was mistaken about some of the details.

In other news, I have finally caught something here that lasts for more than a day.  First it was what appeared to be ring worm.  Plenty of medicine on hand for that though, so no worries there.  But more recently it was some other kind of unidentified bug.  John's brother, Bobby, was the first to come down with it.  He was sick for a few days starting the day after Kalpana Miss's wedding.  I think he had it the worst of any of us but soon enough we began dropping like flies.  It's nothing you can't live through but whatever it is just makes you sort of uncomfortable for a while.  The first day is the worst but then it seems to stick around a little too long, sort of like a guest who has over stayed their welcome.  Actually, a bit more like an uninvited guest crashing your party which doesn't seem like a big deal at first but then they make a huge mess of the place and crash on your couch and linger til noon the next day and raid your fridge because they don't have a ride or cash.  Ya know, not the biggest of deals, but a pain in the butt.

Tutoring, tuition, whatever you want to call it, has been going quite well.  I have a pretty busy schedule now with filling in for coaching as well, which has been making the days here pass by much faster.  I can't believe it's already been over a month.  I'm afraid these last two months will go by even quicker.  Having seen others leave this place recently has made me realize just how sad my last days here are going to be.  I will not dwell on those for now, but instead I will just make the most of what I still have.  But even so, I called them "my last days here" but what I really meant was "my last days here for the time being."  I find it impossible to imagine that I would never visit again.



The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.

Yesterday another one of our teachers got married.  The lovely Kalpana Miss had a private Hindu ceremony with her new husband and a select few immediate family members.  It was an arranged marriage, which I'm sure can be a scary thing.  What was a joyous occasion understandably ended in a deluge of tears.  At the end of the celebration Kalpana moved out of her home with her parents and was taken to her new home to live with her husband and his parents, whom she doesn't know the way newly married couples do in many other cultures.  Needless to say she was distraught at the end of the long and stressful day.  That being said, I'm sure she will be very happy once she settles into her new life, as do many couples in arranged marriages.

On the flip side, the celebration was a lot of fun.  Like the wedding I was invited to my first time in Nepal, there were large and colorful tents set up in the yard with seats everywhere and a long table full of food being stationed by many of the women.  We were served some beer, some sort of dairy and diced apple mix, and some locally brewed "Chang" or "Jol" I believe.  It tasted a bit like rice wine or some watered down saki.  I kind of liked it, though my opinion wasn't shared with everyone that tried it for the first time that day.  We then had some rice, beans, mutton, and some other items which are now escaping me.  After eating and socializing a bit in the tents we were invited up to the roof of Kalpana Miss's former home to act as the gratís entertainment for some of the friends, family, and children.  They played a mix of popular Hindi songs and American hits such as Gangnam Style, Taylor Swift, and the timeless Venga Boys' song, Boom Boom Boom Boom (I Want You In My Room).  Kalpana's sister was in charge of the entertainment so she kept the music playing and the volunteers dancing.  This was of course only about 5 or 10 minutes after eating so we weren't in the best shape, but we entertained none the less.

Some time later we headed back toward the tents to give our blessings to the newly weds.  They sat in the middle of the tent, and like the first wedding I attended here, had foreheads caked in tika.  This time we added some more to the tika rice cakes and draped some white scarves over their shoulders as well, as is customary.  Each of the volunteers were laughed at, presumably for committing some sort of social faux pas (one of which was using your left hand, the hand used for wiping).

We returned to the roof to join in some more food, drink and dance before watching Kalpana get helped into her car and drive off, followed by a bus with her dowry strapped to the roof, which was the most emotional part of the day.  Kalpana seemed a wreck but all we can do is hope the best for her and her husband.  I would imagine it to be a very difficult thing to experience but it is not our place to judge the validity of the culture.  I, and the rest of the Kopila family, wish them a successul and happy marriage.

The postings on this site are my own and do not necessarily represent Blinknow's positions or opinions.