Earth Day, Godam Chaur, and Caring

Earth Day

Earth Day fell on my own dear mother's birthday this year (maybe it does every year). I decided to skip my class at KU in order to attend an Earth Day celebration for the street children in Kathmandu. I rode my bicycle to Basantapur, one of Kathmandu's oldest, most beautiful Royal Palace Squares, and joined a large group of young people as they drew earthy pictures with paint, pencils and crayons. I learned so much about the reality of the street childrens' lives and the services that are available for them.

I also met, Gita, a woman who works for an agency that offers food, shelter, and educational and medical services to the kids on the street. Her job is to walk around the little neighborhood where the kids spend their time, break up fights, and take any weapons or drugs from them. There is a big problem with the kids sniffing fumes from adhesives. She works 10 hours per day, makes very little money, had a bandaid on her finger from a bite wound, and also drives a taxi at night so she can have enough money to send her own two kids to school. She was always smiling and she knows about 140 kids names.

Godam Chaur

Kiwako, a Japanese woman who lives in the same building where I am staying, and her Nepali boyfriend, Rashin, invited me to visit a village that lies about an hour south of Kathmandu (travelling by bicycle). About five years ago they met a family from the village and they have had an amazing relationship ever since. The family is from the untouchable caste and when Rashin first asked if he could have tea with them, the family's first question was whether, being from a higher caste, he would be allowed to drink tea made by their hands. These divisions between castes are still strongly upheld by many high caste Nepalis, particularly in rural areas. I have found that in Kathmandu, especially among my generation, people are disregarding the caste system and trying to embrace everyone more equally. This is a very slow process.

During my four-hour stay with the family I enjoyed some limited communication using my slowly developing skills in the Nepali language. Although the depth of conversation was probably not very impressive, they appreciated my effort and went to great lengths to be sure that I was comfortable in their modest home made of mud, stones, and bamboo. Their newly-wed son's wife made tea, rice, lentils, and vegetables for my two friends and I and the food was absolutely delicious. She prepared everything over an open fire in the small, dark kitchen. This cooking system is very common in rural areas around the world and I recently read from the book, "Readings in Human Development" that this kind of air pollution leads to approximately 1.8 million premature deaths every year. Kiwako and Rashin have been working with the family to increase their access to services like running water and they hope to find a way to install an effective ventilation system in the kitchen. On our next visit we might also help them install a water tap so that they don't have to walk so far to fill their buckets.

Caring and Friendship

I recently read another article called "The Invisible Heart: Care and the Global Economy." Fortunately, I even found a link online! http://hdr.undp.org/en/media/hdr_1999_ch3.pdf

I want to give a short summary of this article, but please take the time to read it and let me know what you think. As I understand it, the article is saying that the world's current economic practices are bad for families, they discourage care, and ultimately these practices are counter productive, even from an economic perspective. The economic practices that accompany globalization tend to focus primarily on income, employment, and education, but neglect the importance of people caring for one another. This includes caring for children, the elderly, the ill, and anyone else, young or old, who needs care. As the world becomes more competitive, people have less time for one another and often women have to carry a double load, working outside the home for supplementary income and then doing all the cooking, cleaning, and childcare that they have traditionally been expected to do. There has also be a tendency to privatize care, allowing private companies to care for our children, the sick, and the elderly.

These circumstances have created a serious decline in the amount and the quality of care that people are receiving. This leads to entire generations of children who are resentful, unproductive, and unable to offer care to others. Caring for people has become much less important than efficiency and generating income. Because caring for sick children doesn't immediately increase GDP or company profits, parents are often penalized for taking time off from work to care for the their families. This is having some really devastating impacts on most of the world.

However, some EU countries recognized the value and importance of care early on, and they accounted for this using policy and market based solutions. People pay very high taxes and the government requires all companies to give maternity and paternity leave to their employees. Mothers can be compensated for up to one year in some countries! If you read the article, you'll see the rest of the statistics on policies that encourage care. Very encouraging.

My personal experiences and observations in the USA lead me to believe that care is also becoming much less important at home. I feel like I received adequate care from my family, but they spent much of my childhood working. At school I received an education from teachers who were poorly paid. Most of my teachers were not expected to care for their students, nor did they bother to offer us much. I imagine that many of my country's problems could be solved with a bit more care at home. And in order for that to happen, huge reforms in economic and government policies need to take place. I'll try to be optimistic.

How has this dearth of care affected me? And how does it manifest in Nepal? The reality of this Invisible Heart is becoming painfully clear. I resent care. This a strong statement. It's not something I'm proud of, and I'm trying to learn to accept care, but it is the truth. This is how I know: I estimate that, since arriving in Nepal, I have met 20 young men who were really, really excited to meet me. They were so eager to shake my hand for five minutes while bubbling over with enthusiasm about how much time we would spend together during my time in Nepal and being certain to get my email, phone number, address, and any other pertinent information. In short, they are very warm and friendly. This inevitabley leads to me receiving lots of text messages that say things like, "I really really miss you! Please call soon!"

The first few times I received such messages, my initial mental reaction was, "What the hell do you mean? I met you for four minutes yesterday, how can you possible miss me?" I resented these messages partly because I seriously doubted their honesty, and partly because they seemed incredibly inefficient. If I send little text messages every day to all the friends I've met since arriving in Nepal, I would need to set aside an hour or two per day. But now I realize that Nepalis interpret the word "miss" very differently, and their intentions are really quite beautiful and pure. I am interacting with a generation of youth who were extremely well cared for by their families. Their relationships with their mothers, fathers, siblings, and all their other friends and family, have been the most important part of their lives. They love to be with people and they are always so eager to share everything that they have: food, feelings, stories, beds, etc. As my American readers know, we do things differently in the U.S. I need to spend at least 6-12 months with someone before I send them a message that says that I miss them. And even then, I would hesitate to share a bed with the person.

I feel like my own American generation can be characterized by our sense of social awkwardness. It's no wonder that so many young people feel that they can't get together without drugs or alcohol. What would they talk about? What would they do? We don't understand care because so many of us have received so little of it. In more caring societies, young people get together and...it's hard to describe exactly what they do, but it is a constant process of subconsciously showing their care and affection for one another. Although my own parents were often very busy, I think they did a great job of making time for my brother and me. I am learning to appreciate this now as I am living in a society of people who really know how to care for one another. So I am trying to be more open. I sometimes feel strange and awkward when spending time with my Nepali friends. They know how to be together, to just sit and enjoy each others' company. I am trying to learn from them.

I try to respond to my many text messages with reciprocal words such as, "Thank you so much for thinking of me! I miss you too!" This isn't entirely honest inasmuch as my American English and culture are concerned. However, this is an honest projection of what I want my world to look like. I want my friends and family to spend more time thinking about each other than about themselves. And I want to spend more time in the same way. Rotary's motto is "Service about Self." I don't know that I've ever met anyone in the U.S. who really lives this ideal. This is ironic because we are supposed to be one of the richest and most successful nations in world. But in Nepal, supposedly one of the poorest countries in the world, many people spend much more time thinking about others than about themselves.

Nepali culture in Kathmandu is changing with globalization. Many parents now have to work very long hours for very low pay, leaving their children alone with no care. There has been a serious rise in the incidents of youths perpetrating crime in the city. I see that many of them are much more restless, violent, and angry than their peers in the villages who spend most of their time at home with their families.

So, I am trying to learn about friendship and caring. I am trying to learn how to be a real friend to my many Nepali friends. I don't think there are any books on this, so it's not an easy journey. Basically, I'm trying to remain open to whatever comes. When a new friend calls and invites me to his family's home, or to a cultural event, or anywhere else, I try to always say yes. Often when this happens, I had other plans. But my plans are often just for me: read a book, meditate, cook dinner at home, so it's easy to change them. So far, almost every time that I let go of my own desires and I allow my caring Nepali friends to teach me about their lives, I have incredible experiences. The most difficult part of these experiences is the vulnerability. If I let someone else make plans for me, lead me around the city, then I am allowing them to be in control. I am learning to accept this and to be happy with it.

Thank you for reading my blog. Apparently I have some friends and family who care about me, and who know something about care. Send me some feedback, or just send a message to someone you care about. Thanks!