My Final Day as a Nepal Peace Corps Volunteer

TODAY is my last day as a Nepali Peace Corps Volunteer.  I went to the office and had my ID card punched through with a hole.  I am free...

Here is a journal entry from exactly one week ago in my village:

10/21/16

Today I was honored at the District Office (Alital VDC, Dadeldhura, Nepal) for my 2 years of service.  Sir told me to arrive at 12:30pm, so I did.  Then I had to be patient and wait through a 2.5 hour meeting about indicators that the government had set for our VDC.  The Female Community Health Volunteers talked about how many households reported on the different indicators.  Honestly, I was 1/2 sleeping through most of it.  Then, sir talked about me.  I busted out the video recorder on my phone like a true narcissist and took in the love.  He talked about how I went home two times.  Once after the earthquake and once for my brother Nathan's wedding.  He mentioned how I walked all over the VDC for my job and worked in the food security sector.  He mentioned how I selected mother's groups and did a mushroom project, about how I helped my family and about the 3 goals of Peace Corps.  I also held an English class and was not allowed on motorcycles.  I don't like motorcycles anyways, so that was OK with me.  Sigh...parting is such sweet sorrow.

I tried to teach many people in my village about how to grow vegetables, trees, etc., but if there is one thing that Nepalis' know how to do it's grow a lover.  Grow a person that is focused on family, protecting each other, loving each other and hands down, pitching in anything you can do to help a friend or family member carry out his or her dream.  Friends literally are family here.  I am leaving feeling like dreams can come true.

I miss my family and the winds of change are calling me home.  I've been blessed to have the freedom to dance by the rhythm of my own soul and share my dance with others.  To those who listened carefully enough to my messed up, backwards Nepali-I touched.  I understood that many of them might not have been able to receive my language, so I tried to do acts of service such as giving and planting trees.

If I were to measure my success the way Peace Corps tries to do it (measurements like how many people did you teach x, y, and z to), it would not be accurate.  Just yesterday, I went to see how many trees were still surviving after we planted them at the school and about 3 of the 20 are still there.  One got ripped out because a kitchen was built, many of them didn't get watered during the dry season, etc, etc.  This is not my success.

My success and privilege was time.  Time to open my hands and heart.  Time to have countless glasses of tea with friends.  Time to observe:

1.  3 successful litters of kittens born by my sweet sweet cat June.
2.  2 monsoon seasons which came with different diseases every time.  The first year I got erythema nodosum and couldn't walk.  I was hospitalized for a week on IV antibiotics.  The second year I got two gnarly infections.  One on my hand and one on my toe.  
3.  2 MANGO seasons!  Yum
4.  5 visitis and 3 swims in my village's sacred lake named "Alital".  Trekkers welcome!
5.  3 visits from honored guests of the office.  Two from the country director, one from our director of programing and training, and one from a government inspector general right after the earthquake (who I was assuming would be super intimidating but was actually very kind, balanced and receptive to feedback.)
6.  3-5 memorable pig meat feasting events.  One was a wedding, others were at my neighbor friend's house where it was always accompanied by local rice wine, beer, or vodka.

What do I go home to?  I have been showing pictures of my family to everyone here.  Thanks to my mom, I have 2 beautiful Christmas cards that I've been carrying around.  I told people in my speech today that I am going home for them.

Here is the rest of my speech...

My time here in Alital is coming to a close, but the memories I have made will last me a lifetime.  I will never forget all of you and how you have stood behind me and helped me in every endeavor I have undertaken.  In the US, I worked as a Veterinary Technician for 5 years.  I woke up around 11am, went to work at 3pm, and came home around 2am.  I wore the same uniform every day and was part of a machine.  I slept, and repeated the cycle everyday.  I got bored.  I came here to experience something new, to help contribute to the community, to learn your culture, and to teach my own.  Each day has been different.  Sometimes I would plan something, and have that plan not work, so I would try plan B, if that didn’t work, there was a plan C.  The day did not always go as I had originally planned, but I think I accomplished what I came here to do.  I can say that the past two years have been the best two years of my life that I can remember so far.  It is hard to walk away from that, so I won’t say good bye, but see you again soon.

Take your friend’s, lover, partner’s hand in strength, love, and peace.  Love can save the wold.

Thank you for making me feel welcome.  To see my soul look towards the moon.  You have made my heart like a diamond.  

Namascar

________________

As this chapter in my book comes to a close, I can only imagine, and am lucky to have the gift of imagining the future.  Wherever I walk, I hope there are gardens, wildflowers and the sound of crickets.

"For this is what America is all about.  It is the uncrossed desert and the unclimbed ridge.  It is the star that is not reached and the harvest sleeping in the unplowed ground.  Is our world gone?  We say "farewell".  Is a new world coming?  We welcome it."  - Lyndon B. Johnson

When the Heart becomes Home

Written October 18

Home

When you’re young, home is where your mother is.  It’s where you get your milk and if you’re lucky like I was lots of love, affection, songs and smiles.  If you’re lucky it’s also where your supportive dad is who does everything and anything in his power to make sure his wife and kids are fed, happy, focused, and free to make their own decisions.  

Then you grow up and move around and realize that your “home” begins to become restructured.  It turns into a frame of mind that you carry with you.  In college, home is still where your mom is usually, or girlfriend/boyfriend maybe.  But love hurts and people change and it’s hard when you want to attach to something so bad that ultimately becomes fleeting and temporary.  

Eventually you realize that your home is not in your head, but carried with you at all times.  Your home becomes your heart.  Your center.  Your being.  It’s up to you who you want to invite into that home.  Hopefully you have learned what types of people/places/situations make your heart sing, and which make it die.  Listen carefully.

Temptation can arise when you realize that you missed out sometimes.  Maybe you feel guilty for leaving someone who you know could have loved you to the end of the world and back and you try to return to them only to find them moved on, or still yearning for something that has already died.  Then one day, you realize that the circles of madness must end.  The earth hickups and quakes, and you realize that what you had been wanting has been standing in front of you the whole time waiting.  Maybe you put him/her there on purpose and maybe they found you on their own.  Suddenly, you realize you are gazing at your soul's reflection in a still pond.  The earth is quiet, peaceful, and feels like…home.

I came, I biked, I conquered.

I once saw a t shirt with a picture of a snail riding on a turtle’s back saying “Weeeeeee!”  I was reminded of that cartoon on my bike ride, as I passed a snail in the road about halfway through.  Riding my bike felt like I was going faster than walking, but I was definitely a snail compared to the big rigs and busses flying by.  

The ride took 8 days.  Up until the 7th day we were one day ahead of schedule and my friend Garrett had hopes that we could arrive in KTM one day early.  However, we arrived at the base of the biggest hill of the trip around noon on the 6th day and if we were to have started the hill at that time it was not guaranteed that we could find lodging along the way.  I advocated for spending the day where we were in Hetauda not only because of the lodging issue but because my left knee was hurting.  Luckily, one of the Peace Corps staff who grew up in Hetauda recommended to Garrett over the phone that we stay the night there.  

The next day one of the hardest, and most memorable days.  We started the day at 6 am and as we cycled out of Hetauda, I noticed many Nepali’s out on morning walks.  Never in my 2 years have I seen so many Nepali people out exercising for fun/fitness as part of a daily routine.  Nepali’s get up early for many reasons…to milk the cow, to cut grass for the cow, to wash dishes, to cook food, to fetch water, etc. but it was rare to see people out on morning walks in a city where foreigners were a fairly rare site.  These people all had jobs in offices, not fields.

It took us 7 hours to reach the top of the hill to a place called Simbhanjyang at 2488m.  Towards the top of the hill I noticed my asthma acting up.  It usually only acts up when I am exercising in extreme situations and I think the altitude combined with the extreme exertion caused it to happen.  Once we reached the top, it was amazing what a temperature change there was at the higher elevation.  I was shivering not only because it was misty and cold, but because I was drenched in sweat.  

After reaching the top and having two portions of “daal bhaat” (lentils and rice), we started the long decent.  The downhill made every moment of the long uphill worthwhile!  As I flew downhill, I blew my whistle to alert people and cars in front of us to move out of the way.  I felt a lot like a bike police and began to enjoy asserting myself as such.  

It was always a little more dangerous around 3-4pm when school got out and the 7th day downhill was no exception.  As we came around a corner, I blew my whistle I kept around my neck as usual and noticed a girl in a school uniform hear the whistle, then pick up her food plate and make a bolt for the other side of the road with her head down right in front of us.  Garrett was ahead of me and couldn’t stop his bike in time to avoid her.  He tried to pass in front of her, and she tried to pass in front of him and they eventually collided.  Luckily, she didn’t fall to the ground and the only damage seemed to be a grease mark on her school uniform.  Everyone observing could tell that it was her fault, and after hearing her family reprimand her in a language we couldn’t understand, we continued on our way.

We arrived in Naubise on the 7th day just as it was getting dark.  Naubise is just 27.5 km from Kathmandu and Garrett had a crazed, greedy look on his face like he wanted to continue riding into Kathmandu that night.  I intervened.  

“Garrett, do you know the story of Titanic?”  I asked.  “The captain wanted to arrive in New York ahead of schedule and you know what happened to them, right?”  Lets just call it a night and head out at first light tomorrow morning.

So that’s what we did.  I couldn’t sleep that last night.  I kept having nightmares and flashbacks of big rig trucks rolling down mountains and coming around a corner right in my face.  By 5:30 am we were on the road and heading up the last uphill toward Kathmandu.  I was actually pleasantly surprised by the respectful speed that the busses and trucks passed us.  I put on my bike police hat and pushed forward.  

As we started the downhill into the valley, it started to lightly rain.  To my delight, the Prithvi Highway was full of mud and we cycled through it, splashing mud all over ourselves.  It was such an adrenaline rush that I hadn’t expected!  That last day was more of a high than I have ever felt in my life… more than skydiving.  It’s probably due to the fact that I had suffered through the past 8 days to earn the reward of riding into Kathmandu.

Garrett and I decided to celebrate our finish by eating something we couldn’t find anywhere but Kathmandu…fancy foreign baked goods!  I had a cupcake and Garrett had a slice of cake.  After that, we headed to the Peace Corps office, took pictures and pressure washed our bikes down.  

I was honestly surprised by the fact that I had completed the trip.  Before leaving, it seemed like an interesting challenge, but I gave myself about a 70% chance of actually making it all the way with no bike, or health issues stopping me.  I was lucky to have Garrett as my teammate.  I could handle the hills ok, but on the long straight aways I hid behind Garrett and drafted as much as possible.  Garrett also has a very mellow, chill personality which was a nice balance to my more irregular moods.  He even gave me a pep talk or two!

Thanks to all of you who donated to my fundraiser!  I was so happy to have your support.

Head to my Facebook page to see pictures!  https://www.facebook.com/sarah.anderson.37604?fref=ts