October 17

8:00 AM

Yesterday was a day full of celebrations (and fruit). It was the first day of Dashain. It was also little Mausam's birthday. The night before mother told Chanel, "We go to temple. All go. At 8 tomorrow."

All the volunteers set their alarms for the appropriate time so we would be ready by 8. (It is a requirement to wash your face before temple, so when you recieve the blessing of tika, you have a clean face.) But the next morning we were awoken at 5 by music. It is Nepalese Hindu religious music and it is very, very loud. Very. Broadcasted over the loud speaker from the roof of the orphanage. Which, makes me think either the entire village has agreed to this morning alarm or, like the people found in these volunteer rooms, they detest those moments and the person who would do such a thing. I woke up to the music and Hamish saying some drawn-out words of vulgarity. Luckily, Qatar Airways slipped up and gave me two goody bags containing ear plugs. I grabbed the two pairs and told hamish to catch what I was about to throw him. That they were ear plugs. He asked hopefully if they would be accompanied by a shot gun or some violent weapon. He called the music demoralizing and I tried to find a way to combine the ear plugs and my iPod headphones to create some kind of noise canceling device, and we went back to sleep. It was very loud, if that hasn't been made clear.

I managed to fall back to sleep and woke again at just about 7 am. I rose and went downstairs for morning tea. And kind of poked around, as we do every morning, to catch a glimpse of what's for breakfast. Every day we hope for good veggies. Every day we hope it is a special day. And everyday it is Dhal Baat. Chanel and I sat down and start helping to pick the insects out of the rice the sisters are about to cook. I assume and count on, as we all have come to, that her talling us 8 am means diddly squat and we'll simply leave when they feel inclined. So, remembering this, I am not ready for 8 am. Mother comes by, and I was right. Now it is 9 am. By 9 am, I am ready. By about 10 we leave. We left out of the orphanage a way we hadn't been before. It was about a half hour's walk to the temple. And a rather pleasant walk, too. We arrive at a pretty temple front and then look ahead to a very steep stairway leading up and beyond my range of view. Bijay said it was 167 stairs.

At the top there is a man in a cage (I was hoping it was a monkey) playing drums. But in the cage is also a desk and what appears to be a person's office. It was very strange and I still don't know quite what to make of it. There is a place for you to sit and remove your shoes, which are not allowed in the temple and on the ritualistic walk around it. From there on out it was follow the leader for us. Really, pick a kid and copy what he/she does. For this whole experience in Nepal, it helps to pick an insider as your informant. So, we follow in line and walk around the main temple 3 times, ringing every bell we can get out hands on. After, you enter the temple (it is not very big, about the size of a hummer on the inside) and you kneel to make a wish. Mother asks each of us if we have boyfriend because if not, she says to wish for that. Then it appeared to be playtime for a few minutes. All the kids ran around, touching all the statues of gods, ringing bells, and adding on to their tika. I should mention, we got tika. Our first time. Mother places the tika (blessing consisting of red colored powder, rice, water, and sometimes yogurt placed stratigically on the forehead, depending on relationship status) on our forehead, then touches the crown of our head, and gives us a treat. It smelt like sugar, looked like tar, and tasted like burnt nuts- so, your guess is as good as mine. It was very sweet of them to include us.

After playtime, they gave a piece of apple and coconut to each of us and to the gods. The kids stood in a group, hands in namaste/prayer position and sang a song. That too was very sweet. I think we all had the smiles of a person who knows they are lucky to see what they are seeing. And then worship was finished and we walked back to the orphanage. We ate breakfast afterwards (also, we found out today that you don't eat before worship and, generally, if you do eat, you don't go to temple. Though, they are understanding to the fact that this is not our culture and we are not Hindu.)

The day was spent relaxing, reading, meeting various families that came by, and setting up the festival swing. Every year for Dashain, the orphanage (and most villages across Nepal) build swings. "Pings" in Nepali. They are made out of bamboo, twine, and wood. As I write, they are finishing the swing up now. Everyone seems to be very excited about it.

One family that came by yesterday had an Irish woman staying with them. As we walked up to meet the family at the orphan house, she was taking a picture with the kids. We all sat down and I heard her turn to her host family and say, "I'm going to go sit with them because they speak English." She sat next to us, her eyes full of tears, and explained that being here and meeting these kids was all very powerful and she couldn't stop crying. Doing the half laugh, half cry, she said that her host family didn't understand why she was crying so it was nice for her to speak English and explain it to someone who understands. We, after the emotional sob-fest of our first night in the orphanage, told her we very much did.

She asked with very genuine affection about the realities of the orphanage, the kids, and our duties. And I have to say, not that I haven't been thinking about the answers my entire stay but in saying them aloud, I was very content and pleased with the answers I gave. They were all the answers I'd hoped I would give after being here. The most important of her questions and of my answers was- "And are they loved?" Yes. They are loved to the brim. They are the luckiest and most loved of any Nepali children I've seen thus far. No, they don't have much but they've more than I expected and really not many here do. Yes, they are "orphans" but many still have families to visit. Some even have parents, parents that just can't provide for them. They are fed. They are provided for. And yes, these children are certainly loved. Not one has a hint of bitterness or psychological issues- no matter what their story might be. (We've learned little bits here and there but besides asking the children straight foreward, which we would not do, it's hard to find out about the children's lives.)

They're given birthday celebrations. Yesterday was Mausam's birthday. When we asked him how old he was, he answered, "Eight..", which agreed with what we had been told by others but then, "and nine and ten." He looks like a small five year old so, once again, your guess is as good as mine. We all met on the second floor of the orphan house and clapped and sang songs. The kids played musical instruments like a drum, tambourine, and an instrument that has the likes of an accordian but sits on the ground to be played. Mausam was given by father a large bowl of coconut, bananas, and chocolate candies. Then the tradition is Mausam gets blessings from all those older than him with tika and in return they get a piece of coconut, one banana, and one chocolate candy. Each person then goes around, starting with mother and father, to every person older than he/she and gets touched on the crown of their head for blessing. We got to participate but because we are not of the Hindu religion, we simply say "Namaste", folding our hands together, rather than getting touched on the head but still only to those older than we are. Afterwards we danced, pulled to the spotlight by various children. I should use the word dragged. It was all glorious fun. Glorious fun and such an honor. They are just days now and I can't fully comprehend yet the fondness with which I will look back on them.

Some of the boys walking to temple. Manip, Manish, Sugam, Bimal, and Mausam.

The main temple

Srijana, I, Momata, and Monica. Momata is wearning some of the clothes we gave. Adorable!

Miriam, I, Chanel, and Hamish at one of the temple statues.

Saroj, the oldest orphan, brother Hamish, Sister (the kids call them Auntie) Sushila, and Sister Kalika at temple.
Sister Sushila and Kalika are the cookers and the cleaners at the orphanage.

Sugam and Mausam and breakfast. They are the two youngest of the orphans.

Manish, Sushila, Chanellie, and Sugam.

The birthday man himself, Mausam.