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Aura Comm - Vol 5 - Issue 2
Kathmandu, Nepal
September 10, 2005
Nameste,
A day I'll never forget is February 1, 2005. The day the King of Nepal abolished the Nepali Congress and took full control of this land suspending all rights, curtailing all communications with the outside world and declaring a state of emergency. Many refer to this day as the royal coup. A pivotal day etched in every Nepali mind. Of course, severely fracturing my left foot at the same exact time King Birendra makes this historic announcement anchors this remembrance for me...
As we parallel the top of the world with snow-peaked Tibet to my right and expansive India to my left, our plane dreamily descends into this picturesque valley dotted with villages that have not changed for centuries. Thoughts run wildly through my mind. How will this volatile situation be now? Our US state department is urging Americans not to travel to Nepal. Tourism has dwindled dramatically due to this ongoing state of emergency creating additional anxiety and untold suffering for its people. You can read more of this dramatic day at: AuraComm_Vol4_Issue7
In the late 18th century King Prithbi Narayan Shah forged the physical unity of this country. In the mid 19th century an administrative structure was created. Democratic aspirations took root in Nepal in the 20th century. (During the anti-colonial struggles in Asia.) It was ultimately the Nepali Congress that forged political unity around the time-honored values of socialism and democracy.
The relationship between the Nepali Congress and the ruling elite was always dualistic in nature. They respected each other's contributions and commitments but disagreed vehemently on who should prevail. The 1990 People's Movement dramatically changed the mutually adversarial respect between the palace and political parties forever. (I'm told although political leaders rarely spoke of this in public, they pledged never again to accept a secondary role in national politics.) The 1990 movement made the people sovereign. There was little the royals could do once the elections were held under international scrutiny and the Nepali Congress won a clear and decisive victory.
February 1st changed all that and today the country is back to square one as the palace leaders portray political parties as "miscreants" just as they did before 1990. Whenever Maoists opposed the monarchy (although their violent tactics were frequently denounced), it appeared the political parties resolutely stood in its defense. Now the king is left in an environment extremely hostile to the privileges of birth. It is the Nepal's long-suffering poor who are laying down their lives. The challenge this sacred land I love so dearly now face, is to fit a ceremonial role for hereditary kings into the constitution of a democratic republic. Many here have told me in quiet whispers that this century decidedly belongs to the people not ruling monarchs. And the Maoist insurgency rages on.
With these contemplations ruminating in my consciousness, our plane gracefully lands at the diminutive Tribhuvan International Airport. Exiting onto the tarmac revealed a sweltering heat I did not fully expect. As usual, armed guards flank us as we enter the terminal. The immigration process was smooth and all that was left was collecting my bags (before someone else does) and bluffing my way through the green channel. There are severe restrictions on what one can bring in this country and the list seems to grow upon every visit. (One of my duffels is jam-packed with teddy bears and baby dolls for the underprivileged children I'll be visiting. Thank you Lani, Sky and Joe for your generosity!) Bringing suspicion on me if detected would lead to other discoveries. Let's just say I pray I am not asked to open my bags or wallet. I held my breath as I casually cruise towards the watchful eyes of security forces.
The hippy hiker before me is pulled from the line. Everything is torn asunder. His shoulders sag and quickly loses his good vibrations. Patiently waiting I cheerfully ask, "Do you want me to open bags?" With a grunt he waves me on and selects the next poor bloke behind me for judicious scrutiny. Smooth sailing all the way. (Often when forbidden items are discovered these indiscretions can be taken care of with a wad of rupee pre-folded in your pocket delicately passed to the official. Local Tibetans revealed to me this well-known method two years ago. The system of kickbacks and corruption is notorious here.)
Plowing my heavy-laden cart outside, this travel weary soul is warmly received by Rashmi's father Shyam. Adorned with a fragrant flower garland and kata scarf in deep respect he delivers a hearty "Nameste". We shake hands vigorously and laugh. (On the past two visits I had no one to meet me, as security was so tight they would not let anyone near the terminal. This is a pleasant surprise.) Of course my dear friends Rashmi and little Shyam are not allowed in. They must wait outside the airport entrance on a hot dusty road strewn with sleeping cows, garbage and black-smoke belching motorbikes along with a throng of eager Nepali awaiting arrival of their loved ones. (The security forces are quite suspicious of the young people because they are of the "Maoist"? age group.) I guess I am getting used to this otherworldly scene. Aggressive porters desperately fight for my bags as I chaotically fall into a cab with far too many hands reaching through the window pleading for a tip. Proceeding by tanks and sandbagged machine gunners towards the gate my friends eye me and enthusiastically jump up and down waving their hands high in the air.
My cabbie pulls over creating a huge dust bowl and Rashmi covers her mouth coughing as she hops in. Both Shyam's follow on a motorcycle. We're off on the bone-jarring bouncy ride to the Shechen Monastery guesthouse located in the Boudha section of Kathmandu, a huge community of Tibetan Buddhists and my favorite neighborhood in this region. This is the fourth time I've resided here and it sure feels like family as all warmly greet me. The guard at the gate (who compassionately dragged me to my room on my last visit after fracturing my foot) salutes with a wide bright smile. The cleaning lady waves vigorously from the rooftop, the cooks collectively project a heartfelt nameste and my bags are enthusiastically taken to my room. They still call me Mr. William no matter how hard I try to convince them it is ok to call me Aura.
These humble quarters with a thin pad, one dim light, and a clean toilet room with a drain and spray nozzle are now my home. Located within a few feet of the monk's quarters I am awakened daily to 4 a.m. gongs calling the faithful to meditation. I simply adore this place. These writings pour out in this environment.
As we sit, tea is delivered and the immediate conversation is directed towards their ongoing concern for the health of my grandson Jaden, my brother Paul, my mother and my wife's sister Jean. Jaden had brain surgery last February and my brother had cancer surgery this past month. Both are healing well they are told, which brings a sigh of relief. My mother is slowly recovering from recent hospital visits for her ailing heart and Jean too is having success in battling her cancer. They are grateful to hear this news. Rashmi translates this report in rapid-fire Nepali to her father and he gratefully says, "thank God" gazing up unto the sky. These fine folks take on these worries as if it were their own family members. They continue to pray and light candles at the temples and shrines for their health, happiness and long life. There is something very special about this tribal culture that is so dedicated towards family and community. My family is their family and the caring runs deep.
Presenting gifts to my friends is always a fun ritual. Jaden, my granddaughter Ella and my son Jeremiah's recent birthday party photos are fully inspected with glee. We sit, drink more tea and talk for hours. Rashmi is so bright and full of spirit. She feels I have become her godfather often seeking my advice. I simply adore her innocence, intelligence and deep sense of spirituality. Offering profuse words of praise for her beloved sponsor Linda she is forever grateful to be continuing her education through her generosity. (You are doing great work Linda!) "I am learning things I never thought possible because of her love and support", Rashmi says. Her eyes gaze downward as it is difficult for her to speak of this overwhelming appreciation for her without becoming emotional.
As I present young Shyam with a wallet I bought him in Thailand, I looked him in the eye and said, "The best gift I have is not in my suitcase." He looks at me with his head slightly cocked and wonders what am I about to say. I joyfully reveal there is a sponsor that has made a one-year commitment to help him continue his college education and his living expenses. (Since the age of 14 and for the past four years I've had the privilege of supporting his education through the proceeds of Aura Imports.) He is shocked. "It feels like a dream", he says. To see Shyam's photo and read more about his life click here: AuraComm_Vol4_Issue7
He is eager to know of this person. "His name is Ted", I say "and he read your story of hardship and is moved to assist you." Ted is also impressed, as I am, with the work Shyam is doing on behalf of the poor young children in his village. I quietly mention to him that these efforts bring great merit and this has brought Ted to you. Overwhelmed, he smiles with a slightly contorted face and placing his hands in a prayerful pose is utterly speechless. (Thank you Ted for you generosity!) This young man who has experienced so much suffering through exploitive child labor, now feels extremely blessed. He will pray for your long life at the temple everyday.
You see, theses innocent beings have grasped this beautiful concept well. It's been said, "It is better to light a single candle then to curse the darkness." I've explained to them that they are now lit. "You are a candle in the dark", I say. "It is your duty to light others." With beaming faces projecting a peaceful glow, they mindfully hang onto every word and nod in agreement. Shyam is volunteering his time with the destitute poor in his remote Nepali village and Rashmi is deeply moved as she provides assistance at Maiti Nepal, the home for children and young girls rescued from slavery. (More on that later.)
With great joy I inform Shyam that a few benevolent folks in the USA have stepped forward to sponsor two of his "kids". He again shakes his head in disbelief at such good fortune. These children are extremely poor, living in a land where time has stood still for centuries. Often going for days without food, many have never had a pair of shoes. They live in shacks that are continually destroyed by severe monsoons. The ongoing bloody battle between the Maoist insurgency and the King's army are in their midst constantly. It doesn't get much worse then this my dear friends. (I thank you Nancy and Sharon for your initial donation seed money that jump-started this effort!)
Sharon and Jillian have taken on the education for Tek Maya Magar (age 7) for one year. Shyam receives their photo enthusiastically and looks forward to presenting it to Tek Maya. We both thank you from the bottom of our hearts, for her dream of attending school is now realized. With these funds she will get her first school uniform, books (basically a stack of mimeographed papers), paper, pencils, her first pair of sandals and lunch money. This precious child lives in a grass-thatched hut with the village animals. To see photos and read more about her life click: Tek_Maya_Magar
Through a generous gift from Jeanette in dedication to her late husband Jerry, now Sarju Nepali (age 8) will have the same opportunities he never thought could be possible. Thank you so very much Jeanette for this one-year commitment. Shyam also receives her photo enthusiastically and looks forward to presenting it to Sarju. This is a major life altering demonstration of compassion for this innocent young man. Sarju has one leg amputated and was born into the Dalit caste. (The lowest caste there is. Others will not even drink water he has touched.) His parents walked to India many years ago to find work and have never returned. To see photos and read more about his life click: Sarju_Nepali
There is another deserving young girl from Shyam's village we are seeking assistance for. Some interest has been expressed, but not a commitment just yet. Her name is Roma Khadka (age 9). She too prays for an opportunity to attend school and comes from a very poor family that often goes without food. To see photos and read more about her life click: Roma_Khadka
Looking towards Rashmi with a wide grin, I share the good news that one of her dear Tibetan friends Passang now has a sponsor for one year. She screams with excitement. (I introduced them two years ago and both have become very close email pals every since.) Through this benevolent act of kindness from Dorene and Michael, Passang will now be able to continue his education. He is a very sweet young man with a golden heart. His love and dedication for the Tibetan culture is the driving force for his desire to become educated. Thank you Dorene and Michael for this greatest of gifts. You have instilled in him much needed hope and self-esteem. (And thank-you Nancy for your earlier donations for both Passang and Shyam. You have been so kind! Passang is eternally grateful that so many care for him. To see photos and read more about his life click: Passang_Tsering
There are many other deserving Tibetan and Nepali students in desperate need. I ask that you review this page for more opportunities to join us. Please click here: Students Seeking Sponsorship. Even a one-time donation will help tremendously. As always, 100% of any donation goes to the students directly. This sponsorship request list is in constant fluctuation so please check back often.
As the conversation continues, wide-eyed Shyam can hardly contain his enthusiasm as he asks if I heard the announcement. Bewildered by his question, he goes on to say the Maoist forces have apparently called for a 3-month cease-fire as of yesterday. This is very good news and it is apparent this window of peace brings them both much needed stress reduction. I am totally surprised upon hearing this for this brutally bitter conflict has dramatically escalated each time I've visited. (Shyam particularly has been severely traumatized by unspeakable atrocities he's personally witnessed over these many years.) After ten years and at least 13,000 lives, the Nepali pray that once and for all this temporary truce will bring the opportunity to address their society's core injustice.
After nearly five hours of rich and meaningful conversation, our schedule for the next day is agreed upon. Stepping outside and gazing towards the Tibetan plateau I breathe in this Himalayan spirit with great pleasure. The sunset reveals a golden spectacular hue punctuated with deep purple wisps, as Rashmi and Shyam purr off on his motorcycle and disappear into the crowded chaotic ancient alleys of Kathmandu.
Copyright © 2005 William Aura/Aura Imports All Rights Reserved.
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