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....