They know me by name at the hospital now

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27-JAN --> 05-FEB-2008

WORK
We postpone the remaining January health fun days because unfortunately Daniel (the other health team member) is sick, and I surely cannot handle all these kids on my own. I manage the Charity health files in the office so that they're all in one place and attempt to type up the health check and last two monthly reports every night for about a week, but the power is consistently off in the evenings. Makes running the organization very difficult.

My patience with the kids is dropping exponentially by the day. Because of the number of them at the home, they have absolutely no discipline so some are extremely disrespectful to any type of authority.

I attempt to take care of Pawanraj's chronic ear infection that just won't quit. But after an extensive journey to the hospital, we return empty handed because the Doctor is not in. Perfect. It takes 1.5 hr to get to the hospital, so it completely kills a day.

During one of the morning health checks, I find that Bijit is suffering from debilitating headaches and stomach cramps. Since there is no clean water hookup at the second Charity home, I initially think that it may be due to dehydration. The neighbors are kind enough to supply me with a bottle of clean water, and the boy chuggs the entire thing in one go, almost without breathing. Unfortunately, it doesn't all stay down. He lets me know he'd rather hold off until the next day to head to the hospital. But I really wish I could do more to comfort him, since he's sitting on the top bunk, curled over in obvious pain. I feel useless.

We head to the hospital the next day because he's still not feeling well after drinking lots of water and subsequently not eating breakfast. Although we're techincally not supposed to provide the kids with food, we stop at a roadside place on the way and I get him some samosas. He hasn't eaten all day, my conscience would have killed me just to ignore it.

We hop on the bus. This kid has a definite case of travel sickness and we situate ourselves by the door so he can spit when need be. We check into Kanti Hospital and are treated to virtually immediate service. Long story short, they aren't sure what's wrong with him but in addition the head and stomach aches he's been vomiting and had diarrhea for the past couple of days. He's prescribed 4 different medicines- one for fever, two for stomach pain, and a 7-day course of strong antibiotics. Three of the four will have to be handed over to the home manager since they require multiple doses per day, and I can only be at the home in the morning for health checks (I don't exactly live close anymore).

We be sure to situate ourselves by the window on the way back and he somehow manages to falls asleep in my lap with his face pressed against the side of the window. I find that I enjoy this type of responsibility.

The next day, I head to a Buddhist clinic with two of the smallest girls in the home, Bina and Nissa. I managed to discover that they'd been diagnosed with anemia a couple years ago, and there's not been any follow up in quite some time. The clinic, in a town called Bauda, is located on the far eastern edge of the valley and is a complete production to get to, requiring a bus ride into town and a different bus out, about and hour and half round trip on buses alone. I am amazed at how well behaved the girls are, requiring absolutely no entertainment on my behalf. Nissa sleeps almost the entire way along the bumpy journey there (again, I am dumbfounded as to how), and Bina keeps alert staring at the windows at the action outside. Since they're both small, I keep track of them by the hand and with them sitting on my lap on the bus. A Nepali man on the first bus asks if my husband was Nepali. Come again? I couldn't seem to grasp what he is getting at. I finally realize that he seems to think the girls are mine (they are both 7) and that all of my genes somehow skipped their generation. Of course.

We arrive in Bauda and there are monks everywhere, clad head to toe in the maroon sheets. The clinic is virtually impossible to find amidst a maze of narrow winding paths without signs pointing us in the right direction. Once we finally locate the place, I am surprised to find that the process of getting their blood tests is extremely efficient. We register, have an immediate brief consultation, I pay for the blood tests, the samples are taken, and we get the results within 10 minutes. Unfortunately, both girls are still anemic and will require an iron supplement for the next few months. We leave the area via another route (I have absolutely no idea where I am going), and find ourselves at the huge Buddhist Stupa (similar to the one I'd photographed in the city). The town itself is like a Tibet-town, reminding me exactly of Tibet in every way. I vow to return on my own before heading home. Once I finally return to my house, to my complete surprise and delight, the power is on for five consecutive hours and I'm able to knock out the health check reports and December report for Charity. You truly cannot comprehend my excitement about this.

PERSONAL
I take my big pants into the tailor because Dr. Puri called me fat at the health check on Saturday. Come again? They're supposed to be baggy, that's what makes them comfortable. I'm in Nepal for heaven's sakes, I honestly shouldn't have to worry about what people think about my weight. But lo and behold, I take them in to get the legs narrowed, and it's only 40 Rupees (60 cents)! To be truthful, it should have been done a long time ago. All I needed was a little bit of encouragement.

At the Tradition, the hotel clerck agrees with Dr. Puri that yes, I am 'a little bit fat'. Fantastic. These people are not ashamed of being brutally honest. As if this is not enough, he confirms the state of things by pulling a scale from behind the desk. I already knew what was coming, just not the extent of the damage. I have gained 15 lb here. Yes, 15. This is the most I've ever weighed and I have very little control over it because as a guest you are expected to accept all food and drink. I find it very frustrating because I have very little means of controlling my diet and I have no gym to let loose in. I realize that I shouldn't worry too much, because I am, in effect, going on one continuous three-week workout in the Himalayas next month. It should get things back to where they should be then.

But regardless, I go fur a run by the river for as long as my lungs can possibly hold out. I have always hated running- my ankles cannot handle it because they are very weak. Perhaps it is from the continuous sprains as a kid. Are you not supposed to be able to stand on your ankles? I also resolve to limit my mid-day snacking. But can you imagine going without lunch every day? Makes things tough! After a few days of controlling my mid-day snacking, I feel as though I'm beginning to make a bit of progress.

I continue knitting with the Nepali women in the upstairs wool room. The husband and wife couple who own the shop invite me to their house for a daal bhaat lunch. I arrange to skip out on morning daal bhaat at my house and rush into town. However, I quickly learn that not all Nepalis have daal bhaat first thing in the morning, opting for chiyaa (tea) and bread/biscuits, and holding off on the daal bhaat for later on. Who knew? I take advantage of this free morning time and have an informal Nepali lesson with the husband because I must learn my verbs.

Around lunchtime, we motorbike it over to their place that has an amazing 360 degree rooftop view. Facing west, we can even see the monkey temple perched atop the hill. The building itself is 5 or 6 floors, but they rent out all but the top 2. Their daughter cooks and serves us our plates, and the husband and I enjoy tasty daal bhaat beneath the toasty sunshine with egg, fish stew and fried potatoes. I am very very full. After motorbiking it back to town, Manmaya insists on borrowing my sweater as a sample and vows to return it in 4 days. Until then, I can borrow one of the sweaters in the shop. I am not very excited about this plan, but I think I can survive for 4 days.

My weekly shower at the Tradition is amazing as usual. It's toasty hot, but unfortunately the power is out so I cannot dry my hair. The sun is also MIA and it just rained a bit again, so I am very cold. I pay for the room for a night, even though I only occupy it for an hour mid-day. The shower is worth every bit of the $6.50.

I have solidified my trekking plans and flight to Delhi! I will be heading to Pokhara on 25-FEB and hiring a female porter 1. for safety and 2. because it will be hard enough climbing to 5400m without having to worry about a huge pack on my back. Apparently she speaks English and is close to my age, so it should work out great. The trek is officially 18 days but I've left a few extra days at the end just in case.

RANDOM
I walk by a vacant bus parked in the middle of Balaju bypass and I hear a noise that sounds remarkably like a goat. I turn my head towards the bus and notice a goat standing in the aisle. I will never get over these things.

There is a vendor selling both leafy greens and underwear on the same display.

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Photos

My family!
Aama's on the motorbike!

Bamboo Bridge
Running by the river

Running
A camera is unwieldy during a run

360 degree view
Western Kathmandu

Top of the town
From the wool shop family's place