 |
|
|
AQ Difference |
| |
| One Student's Journey... |
| |
| Pashupati... Hindu temple complex... Mother Teresa's home for the dying in Kathmandu, Nepal... one of my favorite places in the world... |
| |
|
| |
| Four mornings a week I leave my flat in the neighborhood of Dallu with my teammate Gloria at 7:30 am. We walk twenty minutes and ride the “blue microbus” for another twenty minutes to reach Pashupati. Past the monkeys on the sidewalk and the women in their red saris who sell flowers and tikka powder for puja offerings, to the entrance and the sound of the elderly men and women who live in this decrepit building singing and clapping their worship. “Namaste! Namaste! Namaste!” we greet the Amaas and Bwaas (Mothers and Fathers). We put on our aprons and flip-flops, and pray with Sister Sabika Mary and Sister Basila- the two Missionaries of Charity who love and care for the patients. |
| |
| The other volunteers and myself make the beds “nicely” as Sister Sabika taught us- the same way Mother Teresa taught her. We sweep and swab the hallway style rooms where thirty women and men live. On Tuesdays we bathe the women and wash their clothes, Fridays- the men, Saturdays- the sheets. Sometimes there is no water coming out of the tanks and we have to pump it from the well, bringing the buckets across the courtyard. |
| |
| We carry some of the patients from their beds into the sun and lead others to sit on benches and old bed frames. Even with my broken Nepali I can tell when I put an Amaa in the wrong place, as the other patients start gesturing and yelling at me. When I forget to give the traditional "Namaste" greeting with my palms together in front of my chin the Amaas correct me with stern looks and comments that make everyone else laugh. |
| |
| My favorite Amaa's name is Meinchha. She keeps everybody in line, making sure that the other Amaas go outside to their designated places, everybody has the pillow that they like, and the volunteers are all sweeping the floor the way they should. Every morning we hang up lines of clean laundry and every afternoon she comes and takes it down- making sure its folded and neatly put away. |
| |
| Mienchha can't speak and uses very dramatic sign language to communicate. She only has a few of her teeth and no hair since the Sisters shave all of the patients' heads. Her eyes are crossed and drool comes out of her constantly open mouth. She doesn't like me very much, mostly because my sweeping isn't up to her rigid standards. After the first month, our relationship changes. Maybe I realize how much I can learn from her, maybe she decides that she has properly trained me to sweep, I don't know. Meinchha lets me hug her and try on her clothes, and smiles when I say “good morning,” her mouth open wide. Sometimes if I come behind her and start to tickle her sides she will turn around and hit me, then burst out in laughter. I traveled to Asia on a four month “Servant Team” with Word Made Flesh, a non-profit Christian organization that serves among the poorest of the poor around the world. I spent time in India and Sri Lanka before myself and my three teammates arrived in Kathmandu, Nepal- our final destination. I left to change the world and came back sure of my inability to make a difference, except in myself. I left with all the answers and came back filled with questions. I was humbled time and again by my ignorance, and learned so much more than I ever expected from those that I met. Most important of all, I went to bring Jesus, and instead found Him in the faces of the Amaas at Pashupati, our neighbors, and my teammates. |
|
|
|
|
