This daydream is dangerous.
12/9/14
After traveling for the past 2-3 weeks to butwal, pokhara,
Kathmandu, and back to dang, I was feeling so many emotions and my body and
mind were literally all over the place.
As I sat on the bus heading back to my village, I wasn’t sure how I
felt. I was excited to be in my own room, no longer living in hotels (at least
for a little while) and I knew I was excited to see the two little girls that
live with me at my home. But as per
usual, I was nervous. I was nervous at
the homecoming I might endure, nervous because I lost my host-family’s phone
number and couldn’t warn them I was coming home today, and nervous to resettle
into a semi-isolated village life.
Living in village is an interesting experience because I am
constantly surrounded by people, but none of whom speak the same language as
I. Because of this, I can feel both
socially exhausted and isolated.
That was kind of a tangent, but anyways, yes there I was,
nervous, excited, and exhausted. I got
off the bus, closed my eyes for a second, swallowed a big breath, and threw on
my two backpacks and started on my walk home from the bus stop.
The whole walk home was a daze. My mind was everywhere! The
sun had just set and there was little light outside. I hadn’t been able to contact my host-family
because I broke my phone and lost their numbers, so I couldn’t warn them of my
arrival. My backpacks were so heavy (as were my eyes). As I approached my home, I slowly and as
quietly as I could opened the front gate and walked down our small
pathway. I entered the front door and
the lights were on inside (also meaning the electricity was on, woo!!) but
everyone was tucked away into their own separate bedrooms. I could hear their small murmurs but I wasn’t
sure if they had heard me enter, so I yelled out a gentle, “HELLO”. The patter of footsteps began and as I was
struggling to open my door lock in the dark, I heard a door open and a small
voice yell, “FUPU!!!!!!!!” (fupu means dad’s sister in nepali). I turned to see my two-year old nani (baby
girl) dancing and yelling and running and falling. I took off my bags as
quickly as I could with all its attachments around me, and picked up my nani
and hugged and hugged her. Soon after,
the rest of my host-family came down stairs and greeted me. It was one of the most meaningful homecomings
I’ve ever received.
All my reasons to be nervous were relinquished. I was back
home after a long and wearisome journey, and I could feel calm inside myself
again.
Later that night I received two packages from home (like
REAL Cali home), one from Joy Joy and one from Chodey Lee! I couldn’t have felt more blessed.
Joy Joy: Your loyalty, empathy, understanding, and relentless kindness has meant so much
to me and has touched me in so many ways.
More than just the small snacks (which are powerful pick-me-ups,
no doubt), your continuous kind words remind me to be kind and strong,
especially on the days when I feel frustration, anger, and general loathing
towards the world. You are an incredible
person and role model. Thank you for the holiday cheer.
Chodey Lee: I don’t have to search very far when I think
about how much you’ve done for me (and for others). Since I was a small peanut you and your
family have been that extra support system I needed to get to where I am
today. I’m so thankful to know that
after all these years I can still come back home and find a friend in you (and
a very good one at that). I hope one day
I can show you how much you mean to me as you’ve done for me. I can’t wait to
join you for your wedding, and I miss you a butt-ton!!!!
All in all, the motivating reason for me to post these words
is this thought/question that I face every morning when I wake up. If you know me well (or even the slightest),
you know I sleep, everywhere. I love
sleep! And I’m generally just sleepy, often.
And although I can fall asleep in trains, at concerts, on cement floors,
or even on top of speakers, I prefer sleeping in a nice, warm, cozy bed. I’m lucky enough to own a nice and
comfortable bed in my room here. So the
question is, why would someone who loves to sleep in a nice and comfortable bed
wake up in the morning to get out and face the challenge that is the world
outside?
And on many occasions, it’s still a question without an
answer, but today I feel I’ve found a decent one. This past year in Nepal (and honestly the
year before when I was in the United States as well) has been hard. Many days were hard enough that I no longer
enjoyed getting out of bed. This was
crazy to me because I have fond memories of me as a child when I couldn’t wait
to wake up. I remember I truly LOVED
life. I loved it to the point that I
would wake up before my alarm and just wait there until it rang so I could jump
out and start my beautiful day. These
memories in comparison with my more recent experiences were cause for
questioning. When and why has my love
for “being awake” ceased? Why don’t I
jump out of bed anymore, but rather, press snooze then snooze again until I
can’t hold my pee any longer and have to get out to use the bathroom? Will I ever love life again, the same way I
used to as a child?
I was beginning to lose hope (perhaps I did lose it for a
little bit), but last night and this morning reminds me that, yes, I can learn
to LOVE life again, just as I had when I was a child. As I grew into my 20-something year old self,
I became an over-thinker, a worrier, a critic- someone who couldn’t shake away
the reality of disaster and destruction in the world. I’ve always been an empathetic child, but my
empathy began to translate in unhealthy ways as I grew older. If someone else was in grief or pain, I too
deserved to feel such grief and pain.
The problem is, there will always be someone experiencing pain on any
given day. The reality however, is that
pain can dissipate, and happiness and joy and general good cheer is also a part
of the reality of the world. As I grew
older with my “skill” of empathy, I began to forget the good parts of life and
began to focus on the troubles. I began
to carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, and I refused to let it
go.
But I think it’s about time for me to let it go.
Always learning,
Bora
