Nepal (Part 2) (July 17 – 23)

When I left Nepal for the first time, I could not shake the feeling that I had left things undone.  Worse than that, I felt as if I had possibly left Nirmal worse off than when I met him.   How could I just return home while knowing that my friends would always barely be scraping by?  Mid way through my time in Turkey I decided to return to Nepal to see if there was anything I could do in the short term to place them on a better foundation.  I returned by way of Dubai, where I spent the night in the airport.  The retina scanners at the immigration desk were just one of the signs that I had entered another, very different place.  (The fact that I was at a type of international crossroads was further highlighted by the two separate lines of stalls in the very modern mens' toilets ... one side had the western sit-down variety, while the other had the Asian squat-down variety.)  It was a hard, long night, but thanks to SKYPE and a $16 McDonalds meal combo, I survived. 

I can’t explain how happy I was to land in Kathmandu.  It felt like I was coming home after a long journey.  Had it only been two weeks?!  On Monday morning I caught a flight to Pokhara.  Unlike all of my previous days in Pokhara, the weather was beautiful and I could actually see the mountains! 

Maccapucchre (Fish Tail) Mountain near Pokhara.

Nirmal and I immediately began our work week.  Every day we tackled several projects.  Among other things, we opened a bank account, we visited three private schools with the intention of enrolling his younger brother Ram, we went to the hospital to have Nirmal’s arm examined by a specialist (he had broken it badly the previous year and it had healed improperly), we filed the paperwork to obtain a passport and we designed and printed some trekking guide cards for Nirmal.

Nirmal waiting in one of many lines to file his passport application. 

We also managed to have some fun by hiking to the World Peace Pagoda ...

Water buffalo on the trail to the Peace Pagoda.

 swimming in one of the rivers that feeds Phewa Lake, ...

and celebrating Nirmal’s birthday (July 24^th) with his family and neighbors. 

The week went by entirely too fast.  Leaving Nepal for the second time was brutally hard, but at least this time I felt that it was now possible to continue to help NIrmal and his family from abroad.


In Nepal, caste and social status follow people around in ways that are difficult to understand for someone from the United States.   The insecurity it produces for those who are at the losing end of this system is almost tangible.  I saw its sting at one of the schools we visited, where we were rebuffed before we could even ask questions about an admissions process or curriculum.  I almost came unglued.  Nirmal, however, who was more accustomed to these slights, was able to shrug it off. 

Fortunately, our experience at the Motherland School  (http://motherland.edu.np)  was entirely different.  When we visited the campus, we found the Principal, Prem Pokhrel, tutoring a local boy who was not even a student at the school.  He showed us into his office where we spent 30 minutes discussing Ram and the school.  He agreed to perform an academic assessment of Ram later in the week.  When we returned for the interview, Ram was white with angst.  The discomfort he felt at having to meet with the Principal was heartbreaking.  But equally heartwarming was the gentle way with which Prem spoke to Ram as he tried to determine what course of action might be best.  Here was someone who loved children in a complete and honest way.  He mentioned at one time that he felt responsible for ALL of Nepal’s children.  I was moved to tears by his empathy and kindness.  From Prem (which means “love” in Nepali), I learned that perhaps the ONLY thing that really matters in this life is how we treat others.   

I returned to Nepal because I wanted to help my friends.  As was always to be the case, I was the one who ended up being helped the most.  

Nirmal and his friend Hemant.

Nirmal, Ram (his brother in yellow), Loxmie (his mother, to the right) and neighbors.

Melancholic traveler at the Pokhara bus terminal.