Leaving Nepal

It was 10pm when I finally finished packing and saying goodbye to all my friends in Nepal. My flight would be at noon the next day and all I had to do now was finally relax. The last week had been a horrible week because the monsoon had started and I had become ill again with Giardia. I felt horrible and the thought of getting on a plane seemed like more than I could stand but I knew that I would feel better once I got some sleep.

I drug myself to the bedroom where I would spend my last night in Nepal and crashed on the firm mattress. To call it a mattress was really an over exaggeration. It was nothing more than two camping pads on top of a piece of plywood but after I got used to it I found it to be quite comfortable. I reflected on how many times I felt this bad and laid here wishing I was in an air-conditioned room or a heated room with a soft bed. I was nearly asleep when I felt something crawl across my leg. I was only laying on top of a sleeping bag because it was hot so I was surprised to feel something on me. I looked up and noticed a legion of ants marching across my bed. I turned on the light and found that my pathetic bed was covered in the little intruders. As bad as I felt I simply could not sleep like this so I lumbered into the kitchen and hosed my bed in bug killer. Soon I was again drifting off to sleep wondering if this was very good for your health to sleep in a bed full of poison.

I was almost asleep when my phone rang. I laid there wanting to just let it ring but after several rings I decided that I should probably answer it to see who it was. I was greeted by a good friend who informed me that another bandh had been called by the Maoists for the next day. This bandh meant that no vehicles would be allowed to operate tomorrow and no stores would be allowed to open. To ensure compliance with their demands the Maoists had blown up several buses who had ignored the bandh the last week. We have been averaging two bandhs a week for the last month and schools had been closed indefinitely already. This bandh meant that my meticulous planning to get to my flight on a day that was not a strike did not work. Now I had to figure a way to get to the airport with all my luggage while feeling so sick.

My friend and I contemplated borrowing a vehicle and making a run for it but we decided that this was simply too dangerous. Even if I made it to the airport safely it did not ensure that my friend would make it home safely. Often the Maoists would come visit people who defied their demands weeks later and would put a car bomb in their car. I would feel horrible if anything happened to my brave friend so we decided to start looking at other choices.

In the end we found a friend who had a tandem bicycle. It was probably the only one in the entire country and if that wasn’t enough he also had a trailer that would attach to the bicycle so we could carry my luggage. We finalized our intrepid plan and soon I was able to return to my bed of bug poison.

The next morning we were sent off by all of my Nepali neighbors who could not resist the temptation to stare at their American friend who was riding the most unusual bicycle they had ever seen. The bicycle must have been 20 feet long by the time we had all the luggage on the back. The entire ride drew stares from everyone who could not believe what they were watching. If that was not unusual enough I also had dozens of flowers draped around my neck by Sanu Maya who gave me the flowers as a Nepali custom of showing respect and love for a friend.

As I boarded the plane I did not prepare myself for how hard it would be to return to the United States. I know this sounds stupid but I found it harder to return to the US than I did to go to Nepal in the first place. I struggled with a host of feelings ranging from relief to guilt and even anger. These feelings combined to make a confusing return to my home that really did not surface until the jet lag finally wore off.

In the US I found a familiar culture that I really missed while I was gone. I was able to communicate with people without having to think about every word that I spoke. The restaurants served more food than most Nepalese eat in a day. No longer was I head and shoulders taller than everyone. At 6 feet tall I looked just like everyone else and did not stick out in a crowd because of my white skin and funny accent.

Two days after I landed I drove to Colorado Springs for a week long debriefing class. I have to admit that I dreaded sitting around with a room full of strangers talking about our experiences. I had much to do to try and get my life back and I did not feel like I had time for all this touchy feely stuff.

I was surprised to discover that much of what I was feeling was also being experienced by the people in the class with us. Many of the attendees were also from Nepal and had recently been evacuated when their village was targeted by the Maoists. We found much to talk about during my week in the class.

During the week of class and on the drive home I had time to reflect on my time in Nepal. I was surprised at some of the things that I discovered were buried deep inside. Most of the feelings revolved around some form of guilt. I struggle with feeling guilty about sitting in an air-conditioned house and driving a car. I feel guilty every time I have extra food or when I pay for a cup of coffee at Starbucks that cost as much as a Nepali spends on food for an entire month. I know this is ridiculous but I think it is normal for people returning from Nepal.

Another source of guilt came from leaving my Nepali friends behind. I hate saying goodbye at any time but it was especially hard when you leave them in Nepal. Saying goodbye meant that I may not ever see them again. I feel guilty because I wonder if there was more that I could have done while I was there or more that I could do if I stayed longer. In Nepal there is so much work to be done that you almost don’t know where to start and you can work a lifetime and look back and see very little change.

The most surprising feeling that I discovered was anger. The feeling of helplessness while in the midst of such suffering stirred up terrible feelings of rage. I was angry at the politicians and the Maoists who continue their war at a terrible cost to the poor and disadvantaged of Nepal. I was angry about seeing such poverty while some Nepalese live in tremendous wealth. I was angry that I was born in such a wonderful country and given so many opportunities while these other people were not given any of the same opportunities. I was angry that the Maoists indiscriminately bomb stores where my children could have been.

Being back in the US has been a wonderful time of rest and catching up with friends and family. I don’t think that I will ever look at Wal-Mart the same as I did before I left. Some of the most routine common things here seem so strange once you look at them through a different light. I should write a book called “Culture Shock Cracker Barrel” or “Culture Shock Wal-Mart” for other people making this same transition. I read book after book to prepare for our trip to Nepal but there was nothing preparing me for our return to the US.

Since I have returned I watched a woman eat, talk on the phone, and smoke a cigarette at the same time. People walk through the mall while talking on a head set attached to their cell phone. I felt disgusted as I reflected on our culture of wealth and fast paced living. I don’t think I ever adjusted to the slow pace of Nepal. I never got the fast paced American lifestyle out of my system.

Posted by Jon at June 23, 2004 10:50 PM