Kids
I hated to leave Kathmandu and the goodbyes were terribly difficult. The night before I left I saw the children and there were many tears. One of the girls started to well up before me, and I wiped her eyes simultaneously with my thumbs. Later, as I cried, she touched my face and did the same- it was such a sweet gesture for a child- really moving. I gave the ones I am closest to letters in which the things that make them special to me were described in detail.
This leads me to some comments and questions from Sean in my last update, he said:
What is the process for hangin' out with kids, being invited to stay with people, etc? While I can believe that lots of the people you meet are really nice, how does it get to that point? Do they speak English? Are they inviting to put you up when you get off a bus, but do expect money? Are they getting something back from you? Is it related to the part of the world you're in? Are you more friendly and less guarded than me? Does your Anthro degree lend you secret Batman-style tricks that my Cultural Studies degree can only dream of?
I've always been extremely maternal and have extensive experience with children: babysitting as a kid/teen, youth camps, volunteer work at a home for children who have mothers in jail, teaching theater and art to elementary children- for pay and as a volunteer... So, that is the start of it. These children are nice, and there are nice people all over, and in every country I have been- but there is something lovely and open about the Nepalese. I have had not had the same or closely similar experiences anywhere else; including the newest addition India, I've logged 36 countries.
Maybe there was something serendipitous about the day I met them. In the morning I purchased pencils to give to kids as friendly gifts and in lieu of begging money- nearly 80 pencils with cute pink fluffy characters, red and black action figures, and rainbows... I was wandering in the city and passed a small courtyard with a dilapidated Hindu shrine. I passed it, but thought eh, I'm here, I'll stroll around... Behind it were some children playing. Pradip was leaning on a motorcycle, a dejected look on his face. I reached into my bag and asked "would you like a pencil?" He said "yes" and when other children noticed they asked for one too. I happily obliged and hellos turned into lengthy conversations about Nepali customs, my country, their schools, and other topics. A large percentage of city-dwellers in Nepal speak at least come English, and most of these children come from families that can afford 'boarding school' (private school) where English is taught. Communication was not difficult.
Children have many schemes to get money. They ask for photos and demand compensation, say they collect foreign coins or are trying to organize a football (soccer) league, etc. But these kids did not want or need anything more than my time. I think the letters I wrote were worth far more than a trinket or rupee anyhow. I did also give them small gifts, and they gave me notes and gifts as well: flowers, candles, postcards, a small wooden carving, dances and a play, a keychain, a pen... Perhaps I will sound wistful, but I feel strongly that the most compelling thing I gave was adept attention, care and love. I asked them questions and listened to the answers. I complimented their good behavior and was authoritative when they needed to be reprimanded- but positively, and never in front of their peers.
A few of the children live in homes adjacent to the courtyard and their parents noticed me right away (hard not to, a foreigner with 10-20 kids attacking her), and others heard about me as the days went on. The invitations for lunch, dinner, snacks, tea, came every visit. I promised them when I would come and I came through; I surprised them with copies of photos I took and treated them respectfully- and required respect. This carried through to their families and, of course, their cultures- not just their personalities, and I can credit my anthropological training here.
At home, I have been called intimidating (I have a good look when frightened!), standoffish and cold. It is true to some degree, I guess, but only with those I don't know- that is my way of guarding myself. With children, though, there aren't the same risks, and I am easily opened- they see it.
Next time, I'll tell you about the reincarnated Buddha, monkey attacks, beggars, the Ganges, dying dogs, train station hassles and more than you want to know about India.
Less than a week left, so pleaseplease send me Holiday Love (see previous post!)
This leads me to some comments and questions from Sean in my last update, he said:
What is the process for hangin' out with kids, being invited to stay with people, etc? While I can believe that lots of the people you meet are really nice, how does it get to that point? Do they speak English? Are they inviting to put you up when you get off a bus, but do expect money? Are they getting something back from you? Is it related to the part of the world you're in? Are you more friendly and less guarded than me? Does your Anthro degree lend you secret Batman-style tricks that my Cultural Studies degree can only dream of?
I've always been extremely maternal and have extensive experience with children: babysitting as a kid/teen, youth camps, volunteer work at a home for children who have mothers in jail, teaching theater and art to elementary children- for pay and as a volunteer... So, that is the start of it. These children are nice, and there are nice people all over, and in every country I have been- but there is something lovely and open about the Nepalese. I have had not had the same or closely similar experiences anywhere else; including the newest addition India, I've logged 36 countries.
Maybe there was something serendipitous about the day I met them. In the morning I purchased pencils to give to kids as friendly gifts and in lieu of begging money- nearly 80 pencils with cute pink fluffy characters, red and black action figures, and rainbows... I was wandering in the city and passed a small courtyard with a dilapidated Hindu shrine. I passed it, but thought eh, I'm here, I'll stroll around... Behind it were some children playing. Pradip was leaning on a motorcycle, a dejected look on his face. I reached into my bag and asked "would you like a pencil?" He said "yes" and when other children noticed they asked for one too. I happily obliged and hellos turned into lengthy conversations about Nepali customs, my country, their schools, and other topics. A large percentage of city-dwellers in Nepal speak at least come English, and most of these children come from families that can afford 'boarding school' (private school) where English is taught. Communication was not difficult.
Children have many schemes to get money. They ask for photos and demand compensation, say they collect foreign coins or are trying to organize a football (soccer) league, etc. But these kids did not want or need anything more than my time. I think the letters I wrote were worth far more than a trinket or rupee anyhow. I did also give them small gifts, and they gave me notes and gifts as well: flowers, candles, postcards, a small wooden carving, dances and a play, a keychain, a pen... Perhaps I will sound wistful, but I feel strongly that the most compelling thing I gave was adept attention, care and love. I asked them questions and listened to the answers. I complimented their good behavior and was authoritative when they needed to be reprimanded- but positively, and never in front of their peers.
A few of the children live in homes adjacent to the courtyard and their parents noticed me right away (hard not to, a foreigner with 10-20 kids attacking her), and others heard about me as the days went on. The invitations for lunch, dinner, snacks, tea, came every visit. I promised them when I would come and I came through; I surprised them with copies of photos I took and treated them respectfully- and required respect. This carried through to their families and, of course, their cultures- not just their personalities, and I can credit my anthropological training here.
At home, I have been called intimidating (I have a good look when frightened!), standoffish and cold. It is true to some degree, I guess, but only with those I don't know- that is my way of guarding myself. With children, though, there aren't the same risks, and I am easily opened- they see it.
Next time, I'll tell you about the reincarnated Buddha, monkey attacks, beggars, the Ganges, dying dogs, train station hassles and more than you want to know about India.
Less than a week left, so pleaseplease send me Holiday Love (see previous post!)
2 Comments:
Maya,
I sent you a Christmas card to the PO Box in your last post, but it was returned to me as address unknown. :(
You might ask your friend to check the PO Box. I'd like to send this to you, so let me know if there is somewhere else I can send it or to just try the PO Box again.
Miss you,
Emily
I just sent something today too. I hope it doesn't come back to me, as, well, I didn't leave a proper return address, since I'll be moving out of this place in a little while anyway.
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