The adventure is over

I started this post three times, with three different sentences, and I’m not happy with any of them.

Day 148

And so, suddenly, its over…

Like Puri says, everything passes by…

However, my backpack is ready in the right side of my bed, together with the other handbag, and directly after Paul’s bag and his bed. Remember we have been living during five months in a room of 2 quadrat meters, we had to ask for permission to pass through because the space between both beds is only enough for one person standing.

Electricity just cut. Seems ironic, just happening now for us to realise what we WON´T suffer anymore when we are back home. For us to be conscious that there are people that must deal with such drawbacks everyday of their lives, and that nothing bad happens and life goes on.

It’s been five months in total, with a lot of “coming and going”. Now I guess is easy to say everything went fast and so on, typical sentences, but I don´t think that’s accurate. Time passed by strangely, days were fast, but weeks passed slow, three months seemed a whole life, but five months was not enough to make everything we wanted.

All the challenges we faced, all the moments that I was frustrated because of how hard it was to make thing work effectively, and now seems all was worrying too much, I needed to take things easier. Life in Okhaldunga was kind of isolated at the beginning, but after a while you make of it your home and it doesn’t seem so anymore (sorry for stealing the reflection Puri!).

So, it’s over. No more headlamp for going to the toilet, because peeing in the middle of the night was often an adventure, no more power cuts, waking up with my bed full of small clay pieces that fall from the ceiling when the kids walk in the upper floor. No more small mice walking in the upper plastic we have stuck to our roof, no more “Iscul Yane?” (You going to school today?), goodbye to go to dara/tap of water to wash my clothes and myself wearing my lungi. No more "what do we do with x graders tomorrow?" or "let's plan for tomorrow". How much I will miss the lovely walks to work in any school, or to see the sunrise? This is also over. They are going to stay here, the man that so good momos cooks, the tailors, those who sell good biscuits, Rupa and the tea with views to Himalaya Mountains.

And the children. No more movies with the kids at home, no more reprimands because they don’t behave good, because they are shouting non-stop or arguing with each other’s. We will not play anymore with them something senseless and super basic that they love and they want to play “feri feri” (again again). No more “Come Eating Rice”, no more “Me Homework Finished”, no more “Doka Jolnus” (open the door), no more “CutiCuti Lagyo” (You tickle me). Erik, Niruta and Gigyasa, my three lovely siblings, that smiled at me every morning and said “good morning” happy to say something in English. This girls that came with me every time they could to the Taylor, or to go for a walk or to bring some water from the tap. Yes, this lovely girl of 8 years old is already carrying litres of water with her neck. That’s something Nepali rural people really need to work on, girls have not much future in this area apart from marrying and doing housework. I really wish this changes with time.

I am really looking forward to go back and see my people, my family and my friends. Nevertheless, honestly now, while I’m writing this, I’m being conscious of what means that I am leaving and it’s being hard. We still have some days of long conversations in Kathmandu, of making a balance and take in my head everything I can remember. I know even if I try to put some “brain” to all this and keep in my head all the memories (as I normally do), I don’t need the effort. This five months are inside me as person, this is one of this experience that you feel it will stay forever inside you, so no need more than this.

Thank you RAMESH, for dealing so good with all my requests, and Sormila and our beloved Sirjana. Thank you nepali family, Sabitri, Binda, Samikshya, Jimba. Thank you every teacher, and neighbour of Nishanke because you made me feel home. Thank you VIN, thank you Cazalla Intercultural.

Feri Betaula.


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