Vol III: #1 Back From Pokhara

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Somewhere along the way I forgot to start a new writing year on July 14th. Hence, I am now onto to year 3 aka Volume III.

My checked-bag finally made an appearance in Kathmandu. I am clean- after a good sink-washing. And, I am wearing fresh clothes for the first time in eight days. Overall, I feel good. This despite the fact I haven’t eaten more than toast or white rice in since last week.

Early Friday, we left to the city of Pokhara which is a bumpy bus ride west. Bumpy is a nice way saying hellacious. And, I made the executive decision to us fly back to Nepal. Pokhara is a smaller, tourist-focused city at the base of the Himalayan Mountains. The city is green and humid and full of white tourists from the west.

Our intent was to use Pokhara as a base camp to climb Poon Hill which is a 1.8 mile climb up the southern slope of Annapurna. The trek is one of Simon’s favorite and we looked forward to the journey. Unfortunately, my stomach and weak lungs did not cooperate. We settled for a few moderate day hikes. And, they were worth the effort. Whatever Nepal is, it is a beautiful country.

The one place Nepal reminds me of is West Virginia. Both are land-locked and have a proud history of defying the odds (Nepal was never conquered by the British and West Virginia formed the people choose to split from Virginia.) Both are impoverished and struggling to keep pace with wealthier neighbors. The landscapes are oddly similar and the need is great.

Last week, I asked Simons “what’s the plan?” As in, what’s in your heart to do? The 24 year-old rattle off a list of projects and a grand vision to change Nepal for the kingdom. Then he quoted Jesus “the harvest is great, but the workers are few.” And from his perspective, I can see why. Simon sees his home as ripe and in need of workers to bring in the fruit. I see Simon as the first fruit of the missionaries who raised him to walk the Lord. He is what they hoped would come, a native Nepali with a heart to transform his nation.

I’m praying behind my friend’s back, that he wouldn’t way himself down with too much expectation. If Simon is able to change the lives of a few hundred people, then he did his part. He was the next link in the chain. And, of all his plans, he needs to find 10-12 Simons. The kingdom is about growth not grand displays of accomplishment, but I know him. He dreams big and can’t sit still. For these reasons, I’ve spent time telling him to relax and schedule time for himself.

More tomorrow.

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Vol II: #99 Spicy And Simple

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One motivation I had to go to Nepal was to try the cuisine. Simon often bragged about it when we talked food. He said he missed the spices and called American food bland. He’s not wrong. Nepalis adds spices and chilis to every single dish, sauce, and piece of fruit. And, if I grew up eating this way, I’d think American food was bland too. (Let’s be fair to Simon. Most of his meals in Redding were of the dorm cafeteria variety.)

I must admit I thought the food in Nepal would be more complex than simple. Most of the dishes I ate contained a handful of ingredients- rice, a bit of protein, and smattering of herbs. More curiously, we ate several dishes topped with bits of uncooked ramen noodles, potato chips, and a spicy red sauce. This is how people eat when they focus on survival and ingredients are limited. And most people in Nepal simply trying to live.

Simon is a bit spicy. He likes to joke and make fun of the people. What I love about Simon is he doesn’t tell a sob story about his country or city. When I asked him what his favorite aspect of Kathmandu is he said,”the opportunity here.” He said it plainly as any visionary would. Most people look at Nepal and see a dirty developing county with limited resources and a corrupt government. But Simon sees what the Lord does when he looks out on his people. I love that about him. He will defend Nepal with his life, and that conviction will win people to the Lord.

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Vol II: #98 Greetings From Beautiful Kathmandu

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“Let’s take a taxi to the house where you will sleep,” Simon said as he walked toward a herd of waiting cab drivers. He proceeded to negotiate with a driver and then we piled into one small white car and sped away. The next twenty minutes can only be described as THE MOST CHAOTIC RIDE OF MY LIFE. Within moments, I knew what was coming and the lines and arrows painted on the road were mere decorations. Our driver began to swerve and weave his way between delivery trucks, scooters, and buses. On more than a dozen occasions, he drove over decorative center line and into oncoming traffic when it didn’t move at the pace he desired. All the while, horns beeped and lights flashed from all around us. Some were meant for us, and some for others. For our taxi was just one of swarm moving through central Kathmandu.

Finally, we turned off the main road onto a side street and walked the final 1/4 mile to a brick house. Before we reached the gate to the house, Simon laughed as he asked for my thoughts about our ride and I did my best to act cool. “It’s what I expected,” I quipped with a smile. What caught me a little more unprepared was the boy who walked up to our car to beg for money while we stopped at a light. He was perhaps eight years old and would not leave until the cab driver shoved ten rupees into his hand. Oddly, I felt compassion for the boy but refused to give him anything. Someone sends that poor boy into the street to shake people down. And, I’m not going to play the game.

If France was different, Nepal is completely different world. More to come.

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