There's a hotel a hundred metres up the road from my house called the View Bhrikuti. I heard a party going on there last night, no doubt celebrating the end of a course for aspiring staff in the hospitality industry. For the View Bhrikuti is also home to the "White House College of Hotel Management"; there's plenty of space for this function as this rather ostentatious establishment never has any guests. And that's not surprising. I went there last Saturday afternoon for a quiet gin and tonic with Bev - and they were out of tonic. But the kids who I saw trooping in there yesterday morning sporting White House tee shirts with "international" college on the reverse won't mind. They'll have meaningless certificates of attendance for their CVs and everyone is happy - the purchaser and the provider. There's a lot of this in Nepal. Things that look the part but just underneath the surface there is no substance. This can be seen in anything from a pair of local purchase scissors that don't cut anything (or the handles drop off) to social welfare organisations that purport to do x, y or z without any delivery beyond hot air.
We try to be different, otherwise everyone within the organisation is wasting their time and might has well be at home enjoying some comfort. For example we're just about to publish a children's story book about the dangers of the circus (written by Bev) that will go to all the poorest schools in the trafficking-prone area. Yesterday we decided at a meeting with our local partner organisation to set up a special school to benefit the children of the neglected and resentful Madhesi population in Bhairahawa on the Terai (see previous post - "Trouble on the Terai"). Both of these initiatives will deliver tangible benefits in the real world.
Today I received my final update from Lynne Rawlings and the volunteers in Hetauda:
"Life in the Refuge has slipped into a comfortable routine – I'm usually awoken around 5am with a 'swish swish' as one of the girls sweeps outside the open window. The children are all up early and there's lots of activity and a continual chattering to be heard for the next few hours. It sounds a very happy house.
Two girls come to our room around 8.15am and laying a raffia mat on the floor, serve breakfast on trays – black tea now, we just couldn't take the traditional sweet Nepalese tea made from milk, and hard boiled eggs, chunks of cucumber and sweet bread and butter.
Lunch is prepared by a couple of the girls, they take turns and share all the duties around the house – I've not seen any one of them appear unwilling to do anything! It is hard for us to help here as even taking the food trays back to the kitchen is greeted with cries of 'No Sister, no" and they are taken out of our hands before we've got halfway there!
Monday was the last day of the mosaic class but everyone was there at 10am Tuesday to finish off their work. We organised for the house and office staff to come to the studio and one by one the girls stood in front of everyone, held up their mosaic and said 'This is my mosaic' in English. For the girl who made no eye contact at all on the first day and didn't have any English, this was a huge step. They were all so proud of what they have achieved and rightly so, for in the week, their amazing concentration and precise work has paid off. We have got some stunning mosaics which we are sure Philip will think are good enough to sell in Kathmandu.
In the afternoon we went on another field visit with Shailaja and saw the ongoing problems EBMT is dealing with out here, as they worked out how to help one girl who had returned to her father's house after a beating from her baby's father. She was a circus returnee and is 22 years old.
After dinner the girls treated us to drama – their interpretation of what happens to a girl being sold into the circus. There was plenty of humour and what a delight to see the girls intently watching and laughing at the performance of what was such a painful part of their young lives. Much of the therapy comes through the arts and we certainly saw some of its success last night.
I knew EBT was a good organisation before I came here, but having witnessed first hand the work it is doing I now know it is an excellent one.
It will be with heavy hearts that we say our goodbyes today, but I hope that the girls have gained by having us here – they will certainly never know just how much they and their fellow Nepalese have taught us.
Ek din hah mi lai phar ha na man lag cha (We hope we can return some day)."
Thanks, Lynne.
