Welcome to the Himalayas

Wedged in between two men in a three-row minivan, the twenty Nepali’s and I rode over and around mountains. The road was windy and the driver was not hesitant to take the turns far too quickly, probably accounting for the one bus every three weeks that tips over the mountain and certainly accounting for the girls in the row in front of and behind me burying their faces in plastic bags with uncontrollable vomit. The breath of cold but fresh air was very much welcomed when their mothers would open the window to throw the bags onto the street. The mountains were thick green and covered in agriculture ridges, so that the mountains looked like steps rather than slopes, a tribute to the fantastic job in creating viable farmland in difficult farming conditions. The green farmlands were often dotted with different colors and shades, due to the varied crops or a group of red and yellow houses that constituted a mini-village. They also gave an incredible view on the three-hour journey from Kathmandu to Dhadingbesi, the capital of Dhading district where my Paideia friend Jessie Kaplan was stationed for her ten month stint working at a local school.

To get to her house from Dhadingbesi was an hour and a half trek up a mountain to visit her host-family. We climbed on trails through farmland and forest and along ridges that wound around steep rocky hills, past houses made of red, yellow and grey stones and “namaste”ing the small Nepali women carrying straw baskets strapped to their heads, going up until we arrived at her home. The home was large for a typical Nepali family but what seemed to be typical for Brahmin’s as they were - the first floor made up of the kitchen and the second floor storage, with a small side room for beds. The view was included on all “mountain homes” but it was only the more awesome with goats and chickens hopping around your feet and buffalos and cows eating on grass in the shed next door, waiting to be milked. The family owned farmland but the father was a teacher, so workers were hired to take care of the crops as the mother cared for the house and the livestock.

The experience was refreshing compared with the oncoming heat in Jamkhed, yet the effect of the mountains was highlighted the next day when I visited Anandaban Hospital, a hospital run and started by Leprosy Mission International dedicated to the physical and social rehabilitation of leprosy patients, but also serving all non-leprosy patients. Sakala, a Nepali friend from the two-month diploma course, gave me the tour of the facility, showed me the difference between multi- and pauci-bacillary leprosy, and discussed the difficulties in the holistic treatment of leprosy, accounting for Nepal being one of the few countries that has yet to eradicate leprosy (meaning a prevalence rate < 1 per 10,000).

While leprosy can be detected early, most patients live in villages where, like in Dhading, they walk great distances daily, often uphill, carrying food and water and causing great toll on their bodies. If they contract leprosy, they often hide it for fear of stigma and the need for hospitalization, which affects income. So they wait to report skin lesions, continuing to strain their body and causing eventual deformities since they can't feel their formation. Eventual, the deformities are too hard to ignore and too evident for the community to keep quiet and they are forced to go to the hospital where they remain for an average of twelve weeks for multibacillary treatment.

Five days were spent in Nepal in order to renew my Indian visa, three of which were spent in Kathmandu itself. Throughout my stay and through conversation, it became clear how difficult the situation seems to be in Nepal. The civil war and new Maoist government has spurred the creation of numerous rebel gangs and groups, responsible for murders of journalists, robberies and often for the strikes that seem to inundate Nepal – during my stay it was by road workers who had shut down the main road from Nepal to China. “There are no government programs that effectively assist the needy population in Nepal,” one man told me. While he may be exaggerating, the lack of government intervention is evident as there is no food program for farmers in Dhading, as Anandaban hospital lacks sufficient government funding, and as I had to cover my nose while walking through Kathmandu since trash was collected on the side of roads in huge dirty piles with pigs and dogs scrounging through them searching for food. Nepal, though, was a beautiful country (with equally beautiful women) and my limited stay was very enjoyable.