I don't know how to describe what I saw tonight.

We walked around the city at night to meet some street kids. These little children come in from the villages around Kathmandu and live on the street. They collect rags for money and beg as well. 1 in 10 of them has AIDS. They form gangs to survive, and are often beaten or raped by the older members. All of these kids are addicted to sniffing glue.

We were walking along the street when we ran into Nikel. Voni, our madrich, knew him from before. He was a street kid who had cleaned himself up, gone home, only to return to Kathmandu again. We found him rummaging through the trash, looking for wood to stoke the fire he and some of his friends has built. We walked over to the find and found a group of 10 young boys- they were roasting leftover chicken they had found on the street. They were all filthy and thin. I took out a first aid kit and I started bandaging some minor scrapes. Many of them had razor cuts on their arms and legs, signs of their beatings. Several of them had open wounds. One boy, showed me a cut. "What's your name," I asked him. "Timis," he said with a smile. "How old are you?" "Thirteen," he said. He looked like he was seven. We sang songs together and when I finished cleaning up his major cut he pointed at a little scab. "Here also!' he said. I put a band aid on that one too. He found another tiny scar "And here! Here!" This went on for a while- he was so pitifully desperate for human contact, desperate to be touched. I looked back over at him a few minutes later while I was bandaging another child. He had his face stuck in a bag. At first I thought he was hyperventilating. Then I realized- he was sniffing glue. He saw me looking at him and quickly stuffed the bag in his shirt. He was embarrassed.

I noticed then, how could I not see it before, all these kids were clutching plastic bags. Some had them stuck into their ragged shirts, others held bags in their dirty hands. From time to time they would put their little faces in them and draw deep breaths.

To see a child getting high. There are no words.

Voni told us before how the glue messes with their brains. In particular it affects motor coordination. I tried playing a hand game with one child. Clap right, clap left. Two hands together. The kid couldn't get it. His hands wouldn't move. He kept on stumbling.

We walked to a street children drop in center. Ten little faces peeked out from under covers, looking at us. Here was a place where street kids came to get fed and find a place to sleep ( on the floor actually). The worker there told us stories of children coming in so high they didn't know who they were or where they were. Many of them came from homes where they were beaten. Some had no parents. They looked so innocent. Ten little faces- peeking out. But all of them were stoned.

We continued walking and met a kid sitting on a street corner. He called out to me, high out of his mind. He could barely speak.His name was Sunjar. His friend came to join us. He tried to tell me his girlfriend's name was Malaa too( that's my Nepali name) but his words were so slurred I had trouble understanding him. "Why are you doing glue," Voni asked Sunjar. "It's going to mess with your brain." "It was already messed up from before," Sunjar answered, laughing. He tried to shake me hand goodbye but he couldn't quite get it.

I tried to describe what I saw tonight, but I don't think this did it justice. There aren't any great solutions, these children chose to be on the street, life in the villages doesn't seem better to them. TBT used to work with them and chose to focus its energies on the root of the problem- making the villages better places so kids don't run to Kathmandu and become addicts. I know all this.

But still.

They were so little.

Lots to process.

Sunday we visited one of our volunteer sites, a slum in the Kathmandu called Kalamti. We walked into a daycare center (which also functions as a community center) and were greeted with flowers, tika, and bananas. Sitting there, looking at the cheery blue walls, painted with colorful, smiling animals it was easy to forget exactly where we were. And then we heard the stories.

About the three year olds that have shown up to daycare drunk.About the bruises that these kids come in with. About the intoxicated fathers that come to pick them up. About how the children have to be taught that they can't go to the bathroom on the floor. About how this slum is full of migrant workers and there's no sense of unity, or community.

We went from there to a high school TBT works with.The school is compiled of seven rooms. For four hundred students. They have to come in shifts. All of the kids work as child laborers at restaurants, at markets, as domestic helpers before or after school.The ground in Kalamti is made up of garbage. The school is surrounded by trash. It's everywhere, stinking, in piles and piles. What does that do for a person's self worth, to live their life in garbage?

We also heard about the amazing things TBT has done. How the daycare kids have doubled their weight. How many of them have continued on to get a primary school education. How the teens work in a theater program, in a youth movement. How TBT has set up a women's group, literacy classes, medical care, home visits, a micro finance plan. How they're slowly but surely building a sustainable community, a strong support system.

Yesterday we went to another one of the volunteer sites, Mahader Bessi, located two hours outside of Kathmandu. More flowers, more tika. (The first time you get tika it's cute, but by the fourth time it's kinda annoying....) One of the communities is a small village. TBT has done amazing things there, they have a farm and a fishing pond as well as a women's group and youth movement. The other community is in a stone quarry. It's comprised of haphazard shacks and tents on the river. The people there are the poorest of the poor. The men gather rocks from the river and the women work all day smashing them into bits to be used for gravel. By all day I mean from 3 am to 9 pm. One of the saddest moments was when they told us they were excited to learn things from us and we said "We want to learn from you too." One of the women said "What, how to break stones?" All of them laughed. It wasn't funny though.

Here's a great link on this community

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kcOx-utExlI

After, we went to visit the school in Mahader Bessi. We walked around the classrooms. They were packed with children, crammed into little rooms. Half of the classes didn't have teachers. I looked at an English poster, proudly hanging on the wall, full of spelling and grammatical errors. I walked into a classroom of three year olds, sitting on the floor, methodically repeating the alphabet, over and over and over. Anytime a child moved, the teacher reprimanded or lightly slapped him or her.( When asked "What is education about?" in Nepal, the vast majority of teachers answered "Discipline.") When I was three I was running outside, playing on the swings, and doing art projects.

After that we met one of the youth club groups. These teenage girls were amazing. They were so excited to meet us. They told us about their aspirations to help their communities, to be doctors, bank owners, and social workers. They begged us to come help fulfill their dreams.

Back at the house, we had a discussion, reflecting on the past few days. Many people expressed their hopelessness, others seemed motivated by what they had seen.

I'm not sure what I think.I have to chose a location to volunteer at by Thursday.

We'll see....

What a packed, tough week.

On Monday, we split into groups to go on a 'Poverty Tour.' We scoured out some of the poorest neighborhoods in the city to get a sense of how people here live. I saw some really heartbreaking things- three generations of women, starved and dirty,walking along the side of the road, each of them bent over, struggling under heavy loads. We walked through the riverbank slums and saw families living in makeshift tents, washing their laundry in the polluted river, playing in the mud, scrounging around for something to eat. All this was sharply contrasted by several large mansions close by, gated in by ornate walls, blocking out the dirt and the poverty and the pain of the surrounding people.

How do we live in such a world?

Wednesday was less intense,we hiked up to a beautiful Buddhist monastery overlooking the city. We wandered around the peaceful grounds, led by Tashi, a very sweet 13 year old Tibetan monk. He showed us their meditation area, main temple, and answered many of our questions about his life and religion. Did you know that Buddhists believe if you have good karma, when you die, you're able to chose between going to heaven or becoming a reincarnation of someone else? (What fascinated me about that is (in contrast to other religions) it implies that the next world is not necessarily better than this world)

We also had many, many lectures about the current (terrible) state in Nepal. Just some facts and figures to orient you.(note- statistics vary, the lack of government control, or government at all makes it very difficult to gauge things properly)

Nepal

40% of people live on less than a dollar a day

infant mortality rate - 62/1000

maternal mortality rate - 780/100000

There are 26 million people in Nepal and only 1300 doctors

There are 4 hospital beds for every 10,000 people

Only 60% of the country has access to sanitation

Life expectancy (depending on area) ranges from 40-60

Literacy Rates- women 34%, men 62 (The Dalit-lowest- caste has a 24% literacy rate)

There is no special education system whatsoever in Nepal

Last night we all took some time to recover, and the top floor of the house hosted a party. It was a little disorienting to relax on the roof, under the stars and (full) moon and play games after the week we've been through. But mostly, it was just very nice.

Shabbat Shalom!

Return of Sanjay!

Walked 40 minutes to Chabad in the pouring rain for lunch. Ate with some TBT friends and a thousand Israelis.

During lunch an older Australian man named Bernie got up and started talking about how he wound up at Chabad. Apparently, he was wandering around the streets of Kathmandu on Friday (his first day in the country), lost, when a young Nepali man kindly showed him the way. As Bernie and this guy were walking, they struck up a conversation. He discovered this friendly young man was originally from India. And is now in art school. And works as a shoe shiner. And has three siblings. And lives in a slum(Is this sounding familiar yet???). After Bernie was finished I asked him if he remembered the guy's name. "Hmm, something with an S," he said, thinking. "Sanjay?" I asked.

"Yes, yes! Sanjay, that's it!" he replied, excitedly. "Umm, did you by any chance buy him groceries for his family?" "I did," he said, smiling (seemingly proud of his kindness). "Do you know him?" I didn't have the heart to tell him what had almost definitely happened. "Oh, I just met him and he showed me around as well," I replied.

He didn't need to know the real Sanjay story!

Have I woken up yet?

I don't exactly know. But these past few days were definitely different.

Here's what you need to know:

- The drive to Simbarwati, a small village nestled in the Himalyans (himal= mountain) took about ten hours. It was the WORST ride of my life. I was crammed into a tiny pink bus (cross between the van from Scooby Doo and the Magic School Bus), and my knees were touching my chin for about ninety percent of the way. Also, apparently these buses are meant to be double-decker because there were around twenty more people lying on the roof for the duration of the ride.We drove with our horn blaring the entire time (drivers have to honk when going around bends because there are no lanes and we drove uphill around corners the whole time). The village roads here aren't paved and many of them are washed away, so there was severe bumping (aka terrible turbulence) for ten hours straight. Add some screaming children, two goats and three chickens on the roof, a steep cliff, and you might get some idea of what I went through. (Mom- it was actually totally safe!)

- Our first encounter with the village was incredible, straight out of National Geographic. We climbed up a small mountain and waiting on top, was the entire Taami community (the local ethnic group) waiting for us, strings of flower garlands in hand. Little boys and girls peeked out behind their mothers' skirts and toothless old men beamed at us as as the youth performed tribal dances accompanied by local songs. They then anointed us with tika (red stuff) and gave us Nepali names. Mine- Maalaa which means....Garlic Dirt. Just kidding. But that's what I thought it was at first. Then someone clarified that it actually meant wreath of flowers and the person who explained it just had a really thick accent (Garland= Garlic Dirt)

me with my maala and tika

-Our host family: Aama, Bua, Bhai and Bahini (named Dilku Mari- cutest kid ever). They live in a hut like structure, the 'lower level' consists of the common/kitchen area (meaning a fire and three shelves on a mud wall) with a ladder leading to the 'top floor', which has a small common area with two tiny bedrooms on the side. Culture confusion number one: Dilku Mari leads us upstairs after dinner to show us the TV. Culture confusion number two: our Bua squats on the kitchen floor, some sort of clay tool in hand, cutting vegetables when a ringer sounds and he takes a cell of his pocket. (Yes there was minimnal service and electricty, no internet however!)

- Speaking of dinner, our aama put every Jewish mother to shame. We were pre-warned about the holiness of rice and the requirement to finish every little grain on our plates but nothing prepared us for this.

Bru and I sat down to our first meal and watched as our hostess ladled out a HUGE mountain of rice onto our plates. And then another. And another. And so on. First we tried our broken Nepali. "Ada, ada (half, half)!" Aama just laughed and ladled on some more. Then, we tried"pugiyo (enough)!" More laughing, more ladling. Even"ukus mukus bayoo (s/t like 'there's no room in my stomach for that')" didn't work! By now there was about four or five Chinese takeout cartons worth of rice on our plate (not to mention potatoes, spinach and hot peppers). So we gave in. Well, not entirely. There was no way I could even dream about eating all of that! So when my pariwaar wasn't looking I stuck a handul of rice into my pocket. It wasn't the easiest thing to do as we were watched the whole time. Sometimes I had Bru create a distraction so I could get some more rice in. (I know this sounds insane but if you were there you would have done the same thing!). By the end of our stay I had a very heavy sackful of secret rice hidden in my bag upstairs.

my stowed away rice

-Also, the theatrics here are ridiculous.

Scene: Beruria and I trying to tackle our mountains of rice. Two minutes into the meal Aama asks "Mito Chaa? (it's tasty?)" Mito chaa, mito chaa!" we reply enthusiastically. Aama turns her face down and cries (literally!) in a pitiful voice "Mito chinaa! (it's not tasty!)" We, cry back "Dherai mito cha! ekdam ramro! (It's very tasty! Very good!)" This satisfies her for about five minutes until we hear again "Mito Chaa?" One time, after a couple of rounds of this she asked her usual "Mito Chaa? (it's tasty?)" and I jokingly replied "Mito china! (no, it's not tasty!)" Aama laughed her head off. Score one for me!

our family- Dilku Mari on my lap

-During out stay we got to see hands on some of the work Tevel B'Tzedek does for this community. It's rather amazing- they've basically set up a self sustaining system in which the youth build and then farm community gardens and sell the produce. Not only has it turned a profit, it continues to grow. It's been a great way to show the (mostly dubious) elders that it's a worthwhile time commitment for the kids of the village. And, it's taught the kids about leadership, reliability, initiative, community development and so on.

one of the many amazing Himalayan vistas

-The ride back was a little better than the ride there, due in large part to a better seat. A few things I saw along the way

*A family of six riding on one motorcycle (very common sight here) Two infants on the mother's lap and a toddler holding the handlebar as the father weaves in and out of traffic.

* Street vendors, aged five or six, hopping on and off the city buses in the hopes of selling their wares for a nickel or dime

* Old men and women, bent over, carrying enormous loads on their backs, straps tied to their foreheads and waists to help distribute the weight evenly.

*Women bathing in the polluted water of the river and doing laundry there as well

Lots more to say but I don't want to keep this too long. If I think of anything super exciting I'll add it later.

P.S. http://picasaweb.google.com/AlanaEbin/1Nepal103109?authkey=Gv1sRgCN_0nKPr3P2mmwE#

and

http://picasaweb.google.com/AlanaEbin/2Nepal10101014?authkey=Gv1sRgCPj4ss2MoYGWswE

What's Jewish life like in Nepal?

Friday we stopped off at the Chabad House to buy grape juice for shabbat. It seems like an interesting place; we didn't spend too much time there but I met one of the shlichim as well as the Rebbetzin (Chani). They have a restaurant there,Glattmandu, (how corny can you get...) but they have kosher chicken, which is kind of exciting. On the way back we took a shortcut through some slums. I saw a group of people sitting around and shooting up. Me: (pointing and staring) They're doing drugs! Michael: (gently steering me away) So, that's not really the kind of thing you want to do ever again.

Friday night we had a beautiful Kabbalat Shabbat on the roof, overlooking the mountains. There's something really weird yet also comforting about practicing a familiar ritual in an entirely strange place. After Maariv we had an awesome Shabbat meal and chilled a little until bedtime.

Shabbat morning- after Kriat HaTorah (having a sefer torah here is a rarity) we had a shiur by Micha and then another yummy lunch. Menucha time until four and then a talk on cultural relativism and what to expect from the village we're going to tomorrow for four days. Most importantly- no toilet paper. Also, no showers. Also, we have to eat everything we're given (rice is a biggie here; it's actually holy) and because it's part of the culture to treat guests like gods, we're going to be given a lot of food. Can't wait.

After a musical havdalah a bunch of us went into Thamel for some errands and dinner. We ate at an amazing Israeli restaurant (Or2K); my dinner of a veggie burger in mushroom cream sauce with steamed vegetables and spiced potatoes cost about three dollars. Yummy. Of course, on the (50 cent) cab ride back we fit eight people into a car half the size of a Toyota corolla. I'll say it again- driving here is insane. I'm actually really sick of the noise and dust and pollution of Kathmandu and can't wait to get to the village tomorrow. Even if it does mean an eight hour bus ride.

Craziest day yet.

Our post lunch activity today was an Alone Tour- which is exactly what it sounds like- a tour of the city alone. We were allotted six hours and given several tasks (take 3 forms of public transportation, invite someone for chiya (chai tea) ask someone about the political situation and so on.) Walk around a crazy city, without knowing where I am or how to communicate with people for six hours? Um, okay.

I set out on foot from the house determined to hop on a bus and go anywhere... but I couldn't find any to get on! I kept on walking for half an hour or so and somehow wound up in the center of the city. I quickly noted that a. the word 'crowded' doesn't even begin to describe how things are here and b. pollution is rampant and disgusting.

I found myself in a crowded square and stopped for a break when a young man approached me and struck up a conversation. He looked pretty harmless and I didn't really mind as he continued to walk alongside me. I found out that his name was Sanjay, that he was 20 years old, and was currently studying art. For some reason (he said it was to practice his English) Sanjay cheerfully led me around the city, pointing out various temples and other places of interest. He himself is Hindu and taught me a lot of their customs, as well as Buddhism (the two main religions in Nepal). I asked him about the political situation (check!) and was interested to hear why he stayed away from politics. His answer: "Nothing here ever gets done." We also spoke about his background- he moved here from India five years ago and lives in a tent with his three siblings and parents in an Indian slum of the city. He told me about the caste he belongs to (a very low one) and remarked that he didn't really care to change the system, 'it is what it is,' he said with a half smile. It was funny to hear the similarities between the social pressure surrounding marriage, he himself is to have an arranged marriage, (although he said his parents would probably be okay if he chose someone himself) and as a boy, he's given more time to get married. After a couple of hours of walking around, chatting, and seeing some more temples, an army base, even a shopping mall, I felt that it was time to head back. Thinking I might be able to check off another one of my tasks I offered to buy Sanjay some chiya and maybe some lunch. He told me that he didn't want to take anything from me, but asked, with his head bowed, would I please buy his family some food?

Here's where things got tricky.

From our conversation I had learned a lot about his family and his three younger siblings, and I thought it might be really helpful to buy them some candy, or some staples. Also, he had just led me around the city for the past three hours, I felt like I most definitely owed him something. Sanjay led me to an open store and started choosing some things- infant formula, a big bag of rice, oil, soap etc. The woman rang up the purchases and showed me the calculator. 4400 rupees. Not only did I not have that much money on me, it sounded absurdly high and I told Sanjay I couldn't pay for all of it. He put some things back and the new bill came out to 2200 rupees. This still sounded prety steep but I didn't have the time to do the conversion in my head and the truth is, I trusted Sanjay. One of our longer conversations had been about karma and the idea that you do good to people, and you will get good in return, and he has spoken so passionately about the concept, how could I not trust him? I asked him to show me the way back and he left his purchases with the lady behind the counter and walked me back a little. I thanked him for all his help and clasped my hands, bowed, and Namaste-d. (He on the other hand, laughed and shook my hand). I walked away happy that I had had an interesting experience.

And then, the thinking started. There's no way that groceries can cost that much-4400 rupees is around $60, 2200 around $30. (keep in mind that chocolate is like ten cents.) Also, Sanjay chose a specific store to take me to even though we were surrounded by a thousand food stores. And, he left the groceries I had bought him at the store when he walked me back.

So,I was hustled. A pretty bad feeling.

I spoke to some people here about it and it's (unfortunately) very common. Often street people will cut deals with shopkeepers and getting someone to buy food is a lot easier than outright begging. Also, young American tourists make for very gullible victims.

I'm halfheartedly trying to excuse Sanjay's behavior (he must really need it etc etc, maybe the groceries were really 2200 rupees) but at the end of the day I trusted him and,

it sucks.

Had our first lesson in Nepali today. Awesome. It's hard though, there aren't really shorashim I can pick up on the way I did when I learned French or Arabic. But what was super interesting was our lesson on the history of Nepal. It gave me a lot of insight into this (very crazy) country.

Just a few things to fascinate you with

First of all- check it. Crown Prince kills entire royal family because he can't marry his true love and then kills himself. Or, was that the cover story for a nefarious plot carried out by the King's brother in order to take over the throne? http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/in_depth/south_asia/2001/nepal_in_crisis/

- Nepal has no taxes. Technically, they have taxes just no one pays them! Which makes sense becuase...

- Nepal has no government! How does a country exist without a goverment? Answer- it has many, many problems.

- People with bureaucratic jobs can't get fired. Ever. So the teachers here (who make on average a thousand dollars a year) don't really need to go to work. What they do is hire younger people to go in while they sit at home and collect the salary. And usually, that teacher doesn't go to work either. Or, he naps outside and when the kids get too rowdy he'll go smack em around for a bit. Lovely.

- Nepal is right in between India and China. As such, half the people look kind of Chinese and half the people look kind of Indian. So, there isn't really a Nepali identity. They're all just very confused!

Gotta run.

P.S. Bought a KitKat for 7 cents and laundry detergent for a quarter. I could get used to this...

Wow I'm tired.

So let's recap a little.

Thirteen hour flight from Newark to Dehli, India. Highlights: Meeting Talia, watching the stewardess confiscate some illegal drinks from the two men in front of me, watching Wedding Crashers for the first time, accidentally eating a hot pepper.

We landed in India and apparently, efficiency is not really part of the vocabulary there. Talia and I spent five hours in a holding cell, waiting to get boarding passes so we could enter the airport proper. (Okay, it wasn't really a holding cell it was more like an in-transit room but still, we just wanted to go to duty free!!) And, there was no internet! We did pass the time by befriending a group of missionaries from Tennessee, though...

When we finally got into the airport, it was pretty wow. (Kinda worth the wait, slash not really but it is a beautiful airport). We headed straight for Coffee Bean (spoiled Americans) and chilled there with Beruria and Grumer for the next few hours until our flight to Nepal.

Highlights from that flight.

a. creepy Indian man next to me ' I couldn't help but notice you writing about your goals in your journal. So tell me about them." (????)

b. the view of the Himalayas from the plane window

So we arrived in Nepal ( after two days in transit!) and took a taxi into the city. The driving here makes all the driving in Israel plus driving in NYC plus anything else you can think of seem really tame. I think I counted eight near death experiences (sorry Imma!).

We arrived at the house (which is actually a beautiful mansion but funnily enough doesn't often have electricity or water, it does, however, have a sick view of the mountain around us) and waited a bit for the rest of the group. We met each other, claimed rooms (I'm in the 'penthouse') and ate a delicious (and very traditional) lunch. Then we had a seminar and took a short tour of the area around the city. Saw a school for child monks as well as some cool temples (and really big Buddha statues).

Anyway, dinner is soon and I'm fighting hard to stay awake....wish me luck!

p.s. people here actually say Namaste to each other! Like, all the time. And they do the cute little hands clasped, head bow thing. Adorable.

Blog Title

"Children ten years old wake up and find themselves here, discover themselves to have been here all along, is this sad? They wake like sleepwalkers, in full stride; they wake like people brought back from cardiac arrest or from drowning in medias res, surrounded by familiar people and objects, equipped with a hundred skills...

I woke in bits, like all children, piecemeal over the years. I discovered myself and the world, and forgot them, and discovered them again.... I noticed this process of waking, and predicted with terrifying logic that one of these years not far away I would be awake continuously and never slip back, and never be free of myself again."

It might be hard to go to Nepal but you know what's really hard? Coming up with a blog name about your travels to Nepal. After much thought and countless eliminations ('Not Another Eat, Pray, Love' and 'Nafalti B'Nepal' were both close seconds though), I thought about this quote, a favorite of mine, excerpted from a (sometimes interesting, kinda boring) book by Annie Dillard.

I love what she captures here- the process of discovering the world for the first time. We were all children, we all explored,imagined, discovered. It was so very fresh, so new. Do we still do that? Maybe sometimes. But it seems like, at this stage in life, we've lost that thrill of discovery. We're always awake. And if we're always awake then when are we dreaming?

A lot of people have asked me why I'm going to Nepal. I guess the real answer is, I'm going to dream a little. (trying to lay on the cliche's here :) Seriously though, I'm going to relive that process of discovery. It's all too important. I want to wake up more.

When I was 16 I told people I wanted to volunteer abroad. I'm not sure if this is what I had in mind. I'm not sure if I even could have anything in mind. But here I am, taking the stubborn idealism of my 16 year old self and trying to channel it on my (in two days!) 23 year old self's life. I have no assurances that it will work but I have this-

I'm going to make it work.

And I'm pretty sure I'll do some waking up in the process.

And maybe, have a little fun.