Visiting Placements: Village Reconstruction Projects

This was the highlight of the trip, an experience that touched me deeply.

Traveling in a 4-wheel drive vehicle (bearing an intriguing sticker “No arms on board. Humanitarian mission”) Anish, his staffer Bijaya, Janella and I head into the foothills of the Himalayas. We’re visiting two villages where ELI volunteers help rebuild schools devastated in the 2015 earthquake.

The drive lasts a good 4-5 hours and takes us on vividly orange dirt roads flanked by lush hillsides, rice paddies and waterfalls. The rainy season has just ended, so the roads are often difficult to pass. At one point, the car gets stuck in deep clay-like mud and we all get out to push.

It’s nightfall by the time we arrive at the first village, and we walk along a narrow, slippery trail with the light from our cell phones as the only illumination. ELI’ers, if you come here, bring a flashlight. Also, if you’re here during or just after the rainy season, bring trail shoes or hiking boots! Ours are encased in muck by the time we reach our destination, the family home of the village school principal.

The home is both rustic and welcoming. There is some electricity - each room has light - and there is a wide front porch on which we all spend most of our time, but the kitchen is traditional, with a dirt floor and cooking that’s often done over an open fire. An extended family lives here: the school principal, his wife, beautiful baby son, his in-laws and elderly aunt.

As everywhere in Nepal, we’re graciously welcomed with tea and a dinner served in the kitchen. We sit on the tightly packed dirt floor, and eat with our hands, as is the custom here. (Though you can have a fork if you ask.) Anish shows me how: you make a ball of rice and dahl, place it on the inside tips of the index, middle and ring fingers, and gently nudge it with your thumb so that it rolls neatly straight into the mouth. Once you get the hang of it, it’s an ingenious way to eat.

When it’s time to go to bed, Janella, Bijaya and I share a room with plank beds; Anish and our driver have their own. We’re right next to a large chicken coop, and the sounds of the birds’ rustling and cooing through the night is oddly comforting and mesmerising.

The next morning, both Janella and I gasp when sunlight finally lets us see where we are. The house is perched on a steep hillside, surrounded by both tropical and coniferous trees, with broad views of the nearby hills. We instantly understand why ELI’ers fall in love with the village projects. It’s a bit like glamping in paradise, albeit with very rustic bathroom accommodations (Squat toilets, and ELI’ers should bring their own toilet paper).

We wash up and clear off our breakfast dishes in stream water piped in on the side of the house, then hike up the hill to see the school rebuilt last year with the help of ELI volunteers.

The project is impressive: the school has three buildings, one of them a computer lab built and financed thanks to a donation from a past ELI’er. (Yes, there’s internet access, though often capricious.) A generous American woman’s bequest means this small mountain village is now connected to the world, and area schoolchildren can learn crucial computer skills that enhance their education and offer opportunities far beyond this lovely but remote hamlet.

We’re similarly impressed when we visit another village that hosts ELI volunteers. Here, a group of Spaniards helped built a school library and reading room that’s become a local hang out. The earthquake’s damage is visible everywhere, but thanks to volunteers’ time and generosity, local children in these impoverished areas have a safe place to read.

I’m moved and inspired. Spending just one night here has given me an invaluable insight into the lives of Nepalese villagers. Imagine spending a couple of weeks, or a month! Getting to know these warm, gentle people, playing with their babies, helping to cook their hearty, delicious meals.
And then getting to work, helping to create something lasting for communities that ask so little, but have even less.

ELI’ers, you’re amazing, and you’re making a huge difference in the foothills of the Himalayas. Travel with a purpose, indeed.

Welcome to ELI Field Notes!

You have to start somewhere so here we go. This first post is just an intro to our new blog. Here we are after 16 years as an organization for international programs, and we are just launching our new "Field Notes."  This is a blog that we will use whenever we travel to visit our projects. All of us wish this was an everyday occurrence, but limited time and a limited budget always seem to get in the way!
Why start now? Well, Janella, director of our Spanish language website is making her first trip to Asia in 3 weeks. Janella is from Peru, but lives in Denver now. We're looking forward to reading about her impressions as she visits Nepal. Tune in beginning September 20!



Janella

Asia! I can't believe it.

Janella’s and Dorota’s Great Big Nepal Adventure

We’re happy to inaugurate ELI’s new Field Notes feature with Janella’s first trip to Nepal. Janella is the Spanish-language Program Specialist at ELI and Voluntarios Internacionales. If you’ve ever written or called ELI en español, you were helped by Janella!

Janella has traveled quite a bit - but she’s never been to Asia. Since Nepal is such a huge destination for ELI’ers, and since she’s sent so many Spanish speakers there, it was high time Janella explored in person ELI’s many programs in Kathmandu.

And that’s a tall order, so I’m coming along to help. My name’s Dorota, I’m ELI’s Content Specialist, providing much of ELI’s website copy and the primary writer of participant interviews you’ll find on our site.

Together, Janella and I will travel from ELI’s headquarters in Denver, Colorado all the way to Kathmandu. And that’s one long trip: it’ll take two days, 4 connections and night in Bangkok before we reach Nepal… which is almost directly on the other side of the world from Colorado.
Join us on this wild ride to see how we cope with the challenges along the way!

Getting Ready: Janella’s and Dorota’s Nepal Trip

Visas - A quick check shows that both Janella and I will need tourist visas for Nepal, which are available for purchase at the airport. Great: this saves us having to get them before we leave. We note we’ll need passport photos and $25 for the visa.

Passports - We verify that our passports have at least 6 months before expiration, and a full empty page for the visa stamp. Both are required to enter Nepal.

Vaccinations - I break out into my happy dance: none required!

The itinerary - now that we have secured our tickets, Janella and I start planning.

We leave Denver at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m., flying Air China first to San Francisco and then to Beijing; In China we’ll board Thai Airways flying to Bangkok -- where we’ll spend the night -- and fly the next day to Kathmandu.

In San Francisco, we have a seven hour layover. Hello City by the Bay! Even though it will be early in the morning -- we land at 7:30 am !! -- neither Janella nor I are about to waste this opportunity to pop into one of the world’s most beautiful cities. We plan to take BART, the subway/train, right into San Francisco for a breakfast/brunch near downtown and possibly a quick walk along Fisherman’s Wharf for a glimpse of the Golden Gate Bridge.

We’re giddy: Just flying to Nepal will be fun!

The flight back, however, promises even more adventures. We have two major layovers: 7 hours in Bangkok, a whopping 14 hours in Beijing. Woo-hoo!

Janella and I plan on taking a taxi into Bangkok for a quick look at some temples, a stroll along the happening Khaosan Road neighborhood or a drink in some fabled hotel along the river Chao Phraya.

Neither Janella nor I will need tourist visas to leave the Bangkok airport; however Janella -- who travels on a Peruvian passport -- will need a visa if we’re to go into Beijing.

We certainly have enough time for a trip into the Chinese capital -- we could see the Forbidden City! -- but decide to play that part of the trip by ear. We figure Janella can always arrange her Chinese visa in Kathmandu if that’s what we decide to do. But if we’re too tired for Beijing, we can also check into an airport hotel, or spend the layover in a transit lounge with food, showers and comfortable seating.

In Kathmandu, Janella and I have a long list of projects to see and people to meet. We’ll explore this fabled city - a chaotic mix of the old and the new, the exotic and the familiar - and as we go, share our insights in Field Notes.

This promises to be an extraordinary trip.

Packing - Part 1

Ugh. I’m not good at packing. It takes me forever to decide what to bring, all the while questioning whether I’m taking too much or not enough, or the wrong things altogether. But here goes.

I start off with shoes. The weather forecast for Kathmandu shows it will be warm -- mid-to-high 70s F -- and rainy, so I pack two pairs of shoes for walking: tennis shoes and lightweight trail shoes. Given Kathmandu’s sporty atmosphere either will work for the city, and it’ll be good to have spare footwear in case one pair gets soaked. I’m also bringing a pair of flats to walk around in Bangkok or for when I don’t want to look too casual in Nepal.

Clothes: the hard part. While Kathmandu is accepting of the way tourists dress, it’s best women avoid tank tops, shorts or any revealing clothing.

I settle on a couple of pairs of slightly cropped lightweight jeans, a pair of very wide-legged (“Palazzo”) pants that look like a long skirt, a couple of long-sleeved but light tunic blouses I got in India and a couple of Western-style tops. I always bring a scarf: this light, gauzy one has traveled with me to India, Cambodia and Africa, so it’s coming along to Nepal as well.

For warmth, a sweatshirt I’ll wear on the plane, a cardigan and a rain jacket. If this isn’t enough - I’ll just HAVE to go shopping; it will hurt so good.

I ask Janella what she’s bringing. She looks at me, stunned.

“You’re packing already???”

Janella's packing

Dorota's shoes

Dorota's packing

Packing - Part 2

I have a few packing quirks. Yea, more stuff, so sue me.

First, I always bring more reading material than I’m likely to finish. That’s because years ago I ran out of books in Mexico when, instead of sightseeing or sitting on the beach, we were stuck in a hotel for 4 days while my traveling companion (aka husband) tried to get over Montezuma’s Revenge. The only thing that saved my sanity was discovering a tiny hostel with a take-a-book-leave-a-book exchange. This is how I got, and read, all of Anne Rice’s Vampire Chronicles, a fact that astonishes me to this day.

So, I’m bringing 2 books (they’re light!) and a loaded Kindle. Among many classics, it has all of Henry James on it. I should be OK.

My other packing quirk: I love to knit on planes. For me, it’s the perfect way to spend the hours when there’s nothing else to do besides watching crummy movies on a credit card-sized screen. Long international flights are perfect for knitting, except maybe in Kenya, where my knitting needles were deemed a security violation and confiscated (“they seem sharp.”) Here’s hoping Air China and Thai Airways will let me bring them on, along with two bulky balls of yarn.

Then there’s eyewear. I’m practically blind, so I travel with more than one set of contact lenses, a small bottle of saline solution for carry-on, a bigger one in checked luggage, a pair of glasses, a pair of reading glasses, and of course sunglasses, since in addition to being practically blind, my eyes are sensitive to light.

Much of this stuff -- books, knitting, eyewear -- lands in my carry-on luggage because you just have to be able to see, read and knit while travelling. There’s no way around it.

Which is a long way of explaining why, in addition to a suitcase, I will be taking a sizeable carry-on bag for an 11 day-long trip, 4 days of which are sitting on airplanes.

They're off!

Janella totally showed me up, packing-wise. She ingeniously managed to get all her stuff, including a high-end digital camera, a water bottle and an airplane sleeping pillow, into one small backpack, a day pack, and a purse. Next to her, I look like a bag lady.

No matter, in Denver we check in our luggage all the way to Bangkok, stagger into the plane (don’t forget, it’s before 6 a.m.!) and fall asleep. (Me, that is. Janella reads.) 

It’s a stunning warm and sunny day in San Francisco. We board BART into the city, but repairs and detours delay our arrival at Powell Station for a good hour. By then, the line at Dotties True Blue Cafe, a trendy breakfast place off Market Street and 6th, has extended down the block. Assured “it moves fast,” we brave it and are rewarded with a meal big enough to feed an African village. Ah, America. Afterwards, we make our way to Fisherman’s Wharf for a photo-op, and grab a taxi back to the airport for our flight to Beijing. 

A preview of Asia greets us at the Air China gate: it’s swarmed by Chinese and international travelers all vying for a place in line to board. Why anyone wants to get on a plane before they have to is beyond me, so we wait. We’re seated in the middle, so no views, but the seats are big enough for us (we’re both petite…don’t ask us how a 6-foot tall man would fit in these micro spaces) and the selection of movies weird enough to keep us entertained for the next 11 hours. When i’m not knitting, I’m sleeping. Janella reads.

Bag Troubles

In Bangkok we hit our first hurdles.

After an uneventful transit in Beijing, Janella encounters paperwork issues in Thailand. It turns out, all African and South American passport holders need a health control document certifying she's had all the required vaccinations. This fact isn’t communicated until we’re going through immigration, and Janella has to leave the area in search of the health office, which isn’t far, but thanks to the dour and unhelpful Thai airport workers, is sort of hard to find. We’re both tired, and this isn’t fun. Janella’s trying to contain her frustration, and locates the office on her second try. Luckily, this part goes smoothly, she quickly gets her documentation, and we head to get our luggage.

I find my bag right away. But Janella’s backpack is  missing. 

Major bummer. 

A Thai Air employee -- a kind, helpful one, this time -- makes a few phone calls, takes down Janella’s information and says that, when found, the backpack will be sent to Nepal. Her competence is small comfort, though, when all we want is our stuff, and sleep. The reality is, right now, no one knows where the bag is. It could be in Beijing. Or still in San Francisco, maybe even in Denver. None of us mentions what worries Janella the most: that this very nice, ingeniously packed bag has been stolen.

Somewhat deflated, we leave the airport, and walk into the steamy Bangkok night. A van takes us to our hotel. I loan Janella a T-shirt to sleep in, and we go to bed. It’s 2 am. We have 4 ½ hours before we need to return to the airport.

Into Nepal

“We’re in Bangkok,” Janella and I marvel, despite the dispiriting fact of her missing backpack. Still, it’s hard to actually believe we’re in Bangkok since we’ve seen nothing, driving to the hotel in pitch darkness. We’re staying relatively close to the airport, in a neighborhood of narrow streets and 3-story homes that are both private residences and other small airport hotels. There are a few exotic sights -- small temples erected in people’s back yards -- and what looks like a large temple but is more likely a gaudy theme-style hotel, but, really, we could be just about anywhere.

In the van to the airport, we meet a German traveler who’s just returning home after 2 weeks in Laos. It was spectacular, he tells us. Not touristy. Beautiful. Inexpensive. Janella and I are envious. When he hears about her missing bag he tells us that it took him 7 weeks to get his suitcase back when it went missing on an earlier Asian trip. We don’t like the sound of this, but we cheer up when we get to the airport where we're greeted by a gynormous photo of the Thai royal family. We are on an adventure, after all.

They say the Bangkok airport is a good one, and we agree. It’s modern, filled with stores and restaurants, and very photogenic minature temples, architectural replicas and statues showing scenes from Thai mythology. Lots of photo ops, and we take advantage. We’re also charmed by the colorful interior decor at the Thai Airways jet that will take us to Nepal - the seats are pink, gold and purple - and we approve of the food, which is better than most airplane fare. Lost backpack aside, we land in Kathmandu in good spirits…

…. Until, as we go through immigration, Janella is told by officials that her passport is invalid.

WTH?

Welcome to Kathmandu

“How can you have so many stamps in your passport when it’s invalid?” asks the immigration official.

 Janella is so mystified, she’s practically speechless. She’s traveled on this passport internationally before, not to mention just used it to enter China and Thailand.

We’re not exactly sure what the problem is, but the peeved dude waves us into a little side office where no fewer than two other, presumably higher-up officials, say Janella’s passport is all wrong. 

There seems to be a scanning problem -- it doesn’t register on Nepal’s scanners, or something -- and officials don’t like Janella’s long last name and the tiny signature.

They give Janella a blank piece of paper and ask for a signature. She complies. They compare it to the signature on her passport. Handwriting experts that they are (ha!) they decide, nope, it doesn’t match.

The situation is so absurd that we just sit there, waiting to see what happens next. Janella offers to give another, smaller signature to see if THAT would match, but that one doesn’t pass muster either. One of the higher-ups leaves the side office, presumably to talk to his boss.

Meantime, I have a vision of calling the ELI office to say Janella has been denied entry into Nepal and put on the next flight out of the country.

A lost backpack, an exiled Janella. This is downright kafkaesque.

The higher-up comes back, he’s now also looking peeved, but tells Janella it’s OK, and she should go back into the immigration line. To be on the safe side, she goes to the same dude so as not to have to explain herself again. The dude isn’t satisfied.

“Go over there,” he tells her, waving in the direction of the side office.

“I just came from there! They sent me back and say it’s OK.”

“It’s not OK,” the dude insists.

As if to prove he’s not being capricious, he shows me scans of a regular passport, and Janella’s. To me they look the same, but he says something about the numerical code not being readable. Hearing the hubbub, other immigration dudes chime in. The higher-up comes by, mumbling something.

The immigration dude is not happy. He’s about to kick Janella out of line again, but either because of the look on her face -- a mixture of frustration, exhaustion and dismay -- or the absurdity of the situation, makes him change his mind.

“She can go ahead, but she’ll have the same problem leaving Nepal,” he warns us sternly, waving Janella through.

We proceed, relieved, find my bag, and leave the airport.

Janella quickly spots Anish, ELI’s Nepal coordinator, whose face she knows well from many photographs ELI gets from volunteers. She waves, he waves back.

“Namaste. Welcome to Nepal.” he says in the gently lilting English Nepalese speak. We tell him about Janella’s bag.

“No problem. It happens often, but they always get here in the end.”

And just like that he reassures us, guides us to his car and off we go into Kathmandu.

Kathmandu, First Days

No matter how well prepared you are, it’s always disorienting to arrive in a new, different place. What strikes Janella and me right away is Kathmandu’s traffic: an endless, constantly moving river of many cars and even more motorcycles and everyone honking: it’s chaotic and dusty but it somehow works, even though to an American or a European this looks like a madhouse on wheels.

 Beyond the city, we glimpse lushly green hills: the foothills of the Himalayas. Wow.

 Anish, having worked with international volunteers for many years now, lets us soak in the atmosphere, pointing out the occasional landmark, as he drives us to our hotel, a small guest house on a cul-de-sac in Thamel, the bustling tourist district.

 After checking in, taking a shower, and changing into clean clothes, Janella and I go to ELI’s volunteer house, where ELI’ers live and hang out during their stay in Kathmandu. This is the Sorrakhotte neighborhood, quieter than Thamel, and dramatically less touristy. In many ways it’s representative of Kathmandu’s residential neighborhoods: 2-3 story brick homes set on narrow side streets dotted with small shops and street vendors. As elsewhere in this city, it’s not unusual to spot the occasional goat or cow -- and dogs. Lots of dogs.

 The volunteer house is a welcoming 5-story building, with an office for Anish and his staff on the ground floor. He shows us the highlights: dorm-style rooms with two or three twin beds; lockers for valuables; a Western-style bathroom; a large kitchen and, across the hall, an inviting dining room/hang out place. This is an especially nice space, with comfy cushions on the floor, low, beautifully hand-painted tables, the room bathed in the light streaming through the tall windows and the warmth of the orange-painted walls.

 This being the very hospitable Nepal, we’re offered tea and lunch (rice with veggies and dahl), then meet ELI volunteers. Heather, Daniela, Jason, Angela: Janella and I try to remember their names as they share stories about their travels and their volunteer placements. You can’t help but get caught up in their stories and be impressed by their spirit, can-do attitude and the insights they offer into the Kathmandu experience.

 Later that afternoon, we go looking for clothes in Thamel: Janella’s dying to get out of her travel stuff and into something fresher. The whole tourist district is one giant shopping opportunity, with countless shops lining the busy, narrow streets. Among the shops there are also restaurants, bars, ATMs and trekking companies thrown in for good measure. We’ve heard that shopping in Nepal is a thrill, and this doesn’t disappoint. There’s metal work, carvings, pashmina and cashmere, handmade artisanal paper products, gorgeous embroidery and rugs. There are also many stores selling hiking and mountaineering clothes and gear, and a great deal of fake North Face jackets and travel bags.

Within an hour, Janella is outfitted with a skirt, a pair of elephant pants (those ubiquitous pants you see in all of Asia) and two tops, one of them with pretty embroidery. All for under $20 - without bargaining much. Janella is thrilled to have something clean to wear.

 The next morning is business: taking Anish’s advice, we head to the Chinese embassy where Janella tries to get a visa. We want to take advantage of our 15-hour layover in Beijing. While Janella doesn’t get the visa right then, she finds out exactly what she’ll need when she returns for it the next day. If any of you need to secure a Chinese visa in Kathmandu, here’s a tip: the lady in window #3 has all the answers. (Hers is also the longest line.)

 At a meeting with Anish and his staff later in the day, Janella receives the email she’s been waiting for: her backpack has been located, and will arrive at the Kathmandu airport the next day. This is very good news indeed. Anish graciously offers a car and driver to pick it up, and a grinning Janella and her backpack are reunited less than 24 hours later.

 We feel like celebrating, and in fact we get to, because that night Anish arranged for a special goodbye dinner for Daniela, who is leaving for the States the next day. All the volunteers, and all the ELI staffers, pack into a rented van and head out for what turns out to be a magical evening.

 Anish takes us to Kirtipur, a medieval village in the hills southwest of Kathmandu. It’s a lovely place with winding cobblestone streets, and some wonderful temples, especially the Bagh Bhairab Temple, decorated with 18th century battle swords. (I’m told the pagoda-style architecture, which we so associate with China and Japan, was actually developed in Nepal.) The volunteers have seen similar architectural marvels in Kathmandu, but for Janella and me, this is our introduction to the richness of historical sites in this wonderful country. We’re instantly hooked.

 Dinner is nothing short of fabulous. We go to Newa Civilization Restaurant, which celebrates the traditional cuisine of the region. The restaurant has wonderful views of the nearby hills, and large rooms that are welcoming to groups.

 We sit on the floor in a large circle and eat off straw mats and traditional metal plates a whole series of dishes, some of them rather exotic (buffalo spinal cord and tongue.) This being Nepal, there’s also a large selection of delicious, spicy vegetarian options, which is good because about half of the group avoids meat. Along with the meal, we’re served chan, rice wine, which is poured from brass decanters into small bowls. For the uninitiated, rice wine can at first seem a little strange - milky white in color, somewhat salty in taste - but Janella and I are proof it’s a very quickly acquired taste. Before we know it, volunteers are pouring rice wine from the decanters right into their mouths. (Janella makes sure the moment is caught on camera.) They pester Anish where they can get it in Kathmandu: chan is clearly a hit.

 Between the food, the great company, and this unforgettable setting - the evening is one for the memories. And it’s just the first of many amazing moments I’ll live on this extraordinary trip.

Visiting the Programs

Teaching in a School or Monastery

Our mission in Nepal -- besides having a wonderful trip -- is to visit ELI’s various volunteer placements, and Anish schedules a series of meetings for us at the various sites.

We begin by visiting the Child Development Center -- CDC -- and the Aruni Secondary School, an education complex 20 minutes on foot from the volunteer house. CDC serves children 3-6 years old; the Aruni School offers grades 1-10. Both placements prefer volunteers with some teaching experience, and those who can offer at least two consecutive weeks. At the CDC, volunteers serve as teaching assistants, and are encouraged to arrange with the head teachers to play, sing and interact with the youngsters. Volunteers who want to teach here are encouraged to bring with them coloring books, crayons/color pencils, puzzles, picture books, etc. These are luxury items and hard for CDC to supply on a regular basis.

The non-profit Aruni Secondary School is a private but low-cost alternative to Kathmandu’s overcrowded and underfunded government schools. 95% of its students come from low-income families who migrated to Kathmandu from the mountains after the devastating April 2015 earthquake. Many of the children live in temporary shelters or shanty towns that have sprung up around the city; the school offers its pupils a respite and a place to just be a child. It succeeds, both socially and academically, with its students performing well on national exams.

Volunteers who want to teach here should have at least some background in education, and, to avoid classroom disruptions, need to commit to at least one month. ELI can work with Aruni to try to enable qualified volunteers to teach in their field of interest. The school says particularly successful past volunteers presented special classes about their home country, it’s history and culture - sort of a mix of geography and social science.

There are also a couple of specialized volunteer opportunities for those who only have two weeks.

First, art and crafts lessons. Aruni does not have a dedicated art teacher and volunteers can offer valuable (and much appreciated) classes for an hour or two per day, based on their abilities and interests. Volunteers usually provide the materials (they can be very simple and inexpensive, ask ELI for some ideas,) instruction and the encouragement. Arts and crafts projects are a great way to get to know the children and to offer them something that’s both fun and educational.

Another interesting option: coaching table tennis and volleyball twice per week. There is an indoor and an outdoor table for table tennis. Volunteers interested in coaching and playing table tennis are encouraged to bring balls and extra paddles with them, since these are hard-to-come by luxury items for this very modest school.

Do you play volleyball? A shelf full of trophies attests that this is something of a specialty at Aruni. In fact, Last year, the school organized a successful city-wide volleyball competition among 24 Kathmandu schools. It was such a hit, Aruni wants to make it an annual event, and welcomes those who can coach and practice the sport with the team and other youngsters, children who otherwise experience very little organized physical education.

Some volunteers like to combine this placement with teaching English part-time to young monks at Buddhist monasteries. ELI Abroad partners with a couple monasteries and will arrange placement based on availability and volunteers’ experience and skills. Most of the young students -- boys who won’t go on to become monks -- are there because the monastery offers a superior educational experience valued by their families. A few will embrace Buddhism as a career and become monks; volunteers will also meet and interact with these gentle, devout men.

Nepal’s Buddhist monasteries are very special places, reflecting a peaceful, scholarly atmosphere, although be warned: some young monks can be at times as rowdy as their counterparts in secular schools! Still, the monastery settings are at times extraordinarily beautiful, and this is a teaching opportunity like no other.

The monastery Janella and I visited is a good hour by car or bus outside of Kathmandu, in a hilly, well-to-do neighborhood and surrounded by flowering trees and peaceful gardens. The main temple, built about 15 years ago, is a colorful feast for the eyes and featuring stunning paintings of the life of Buddha and ornate decorations on the inside and outside. Monks live and study in two adjacent wings. Between the storybook setting, and the beauty of the temple, this is a wonderful placement for volunteers with a particular interest in Buddhism.

A Birthday for a Young Nepali

Happy Birthday Sheri: Celebrating, Nepali Style

On Wednesday, Anish tells us he’ll have to go home early to help prepare a birthday party for his daughter Sheri. She’s turning 12, and Janella and I are invited.

We quickly accept, excited to go into a Nepalese home, and go shopping for gifts. Kind of a challenge since we don’t know Sheri. In the end, I get her colorful room decorations - small paper hearts, birds, stars and leaves, strung on long golden threads - and Janella finds a small Spanish phrase book. That evening, we join two of Anish’s staffers - the helpful Pradip, and funny, warm Bijaya - and head out of Kathmandu and toward the gently rolling hills around Bhaktapur, where both Pradip and Anish live.

As is the tradition in Nepal, Anish and Pradip live in large, multi-generational homes, Pradip with his parents and wife; Anish with his parents, his wife and two children; his brother, sister-in-law and their two kids. Anish’s family has deep roots here. He tells me his daughter and son are the fourteenth generation to live in the area. I let that sink in: how many Americans can say the same?

As we enter the garden surrounding Anish’s house, we see a small guest house with a collapsed roof - a reminder of the devastating earthquake that rocked Nepal in April 2015, killing more than 9,000 people. ELI’s director, Kevin O’Neill, stayed here once; it’s now uninhabitable.

Welcoming us, Anish points to a school across the street. It too was badly damaged, and it was one of the first reconstruction projects ELI Abroad volunteers tackled in the wake of the quake. Since then, ELI’ers have helped rebuild several schools, but this one is special.

Kids’ laughter and squeals reminds us this a joyous occasion. Sheri has just come home from school and changed out of her school uniform (a blue button-down shirt and gray, pleated skirt) and into a pretty white dress. The party is on.

As the children run off to do their thing, Janella and I are introduced to Anish’s charismatic family -- and here I have to add that his wife is beautiful! And his four year old son Shayan is a rambunctious ball of energy and charm.

When it’s time for cake, everyone gathers in a room decorated with balloons. We sing “Happy Birthday to You” and watch as Shari blows out the candles and sparklers atop of two beautiful, rich chocolate cakes. Music comes on and someone pops the balloons, which rain confetti that had been inside. There is squealing as the kids spray each other with -- is it silly string? Shaving cream? -- something from a can that has them reeling with laughter. Shari then helps cut the cake, and brings a piece to each guest as they, in turn, wish her a happy birthday and offer their gifts. Sheri is happy but poised; her mother and Anish are beaming with affection and pride.

Afterwards we proceed to dinner, a parade of wonderful Nepalese dishes, some spicy, all delicious. It’s a wonderful evening. And as it turns out, this birthday party in Nepal isn’t that different. It’s all about togetherness, love, children, parents, grandparents: a universal celebration of family and friends. Janella and I feel privileged to have been there.

Visiting Placements: Dog Rescue

Dog Rescue Placement - Nepal

There are more than 20,000 street dogs in Kathmandu - some say, the number is closer to 30,000. There isn’t enough money or manpower or even will to take care of all of them or to dramatically control their population.

That’s why the unusual dog rescue ELI partners with on the outskirts of Kathmandu is so important. It’s an effective, humane place that offers a world of opportunities for the dedicated dog lover, passionate pre-vet or veterinary student.

The location of the dog rescue is a bit surprising. It’s set in a posh community about 45 minutes from central Kathmandu, a scenic, hilly area where large homes -- heck, mansions -- dot the lush landscape. A former Prime Minister lives here, as well as other political and business VIPs.

The rescue facility is a former residential home: a pretty, 2-story house with a surrounding garden. Healthy dogs roam free here, play in the grass or rest in the shade of fruit trees. There are outdoor cages for sick animals, or those recovering from surgery, and more cages inside. Inside is also the organization’s office and surgery where vets perform countless spaying and neutering procedures, as well as offering medical care to injured animals brought here for treatment either by the city, or in the center’s own ambulance.

Founder of the Dog Rescue Center

Volunteers or interns who come here should be self-directed and independent: there isn’t enough staff to mentor you, and the group’s director is often swamped with paperwork and fundraising responsibilities. But for the pro-active volunteer, the sky is almost the limit. You can clean cages, prepare meals for the animals, feed them, play with the healthy ones awaiting adoption and, based on your experience, help administer medication, assist the vet or vet techs with pre-op and post-op care, and help perform countless spaying and neutering procedures. It’s no wonder a recent ELI volunteer raved about her experience.

Considering the upscale residential setting, it’s perhaps not surprising that the center’s neighbors are less than happy to have a dog rescue so close to their manicured homesteads. Their frequent complaints about barking dogs finally forced the rescue to look for a new home. While the move isn’t imminent -- it might take a year or longer -- it will happen.The rescue’s management is looking at land in, or near, the area - and hopes to build a facility especially suited to its specialized needs.

Until that happens, ELI’s volunteers and interns will continue to be placed here… a beautiful, peaceful place for dogs and dog lovers alike.

Nepal: Women's Programs and Anti-Trafficking

Tucked into a peaceful courtyard off a busy Kathmandu road, this inspiring and effective organization welcomes young female volunteers to teach English, offer cooking classes, marketing help, data collection and grant writing. 

Started by a women’s advocate and a former Nepali Supreme Court judge, this NGO works with young women rescued from sex trafficking. It offers them skills -- they’re trained as paralegals or to work in the hospitality industry -- and conducts outreach campaigns to warn Nepalese families in the villages surrounding Kathmandu of the dangers of trafficking. The group’s founders say, many of the young women held virtual prisoner in brothels initially were told they would be given jobs as hotel workers or domestic help. Instead, they end up far from home -- most often, in northern India -- their passports confiscated by their pimps, without language skills, help or a way out.

The 2015 earthquake that devastated Nepal has made this already urgent problem even more acute. Hardship has fueled the growth of trafficking: it’s estimated that between 10,000 and 15,000 young women from Nepal, nearby Bhutan and Bangladesh are sexually enslaved each year. 

Reintegrating these young women into society after their rescue is part of the struggle against trafficking. Many can’t return home, or don’t want to. They need medical help, education, jobs and a path to a normal life.

The Kitchen at the Women's Center

This is what this caring NGO offers. And here are some ways you can help:

If you’re a native speaker, you can teach English here, or conduct conversation classes. 

If you’ve studied hotel management, you can offer valuable insights to young women hoping to enter the industry. 

If you can teach cooking you’re welcome to share your skills in a kitchen that’s part of the NGO. When Janella and I visited, a class in omelet-making had just finished. 

Are you tech-savvy? You can help with the group’s website and online presence. 

Hablas Espa͠nol? You can help translate the website so it reaches a wider international audience.

The women being trained here have recently began making bracelets as a way to earn money, and an ELI volunteer has just helped them set up an Etsy shop. So volunteers with some microfinance background, or those with business skills who can help set up a business plan and a marketing strategy, can also make a huge difference here.

The center has extensive data -- paper files and legal documents -- on the young women it has helped over the past few years. Volunteers with a background in social science research could be instrumental in setting up a digitized data collection system so that it can be used as a tool for fundraising and recognition of the important work being done by the group. 

Qualified volunteers who are able to make a longer time commitment (a month at least) may also be able to join trips into vulnerable Nepalese villages to help with the group’s outreach and public awareness efforts. Trust us, this is a unique, eye-opening opportunity to watch activism in action.

Finally: grant writing. Calling all social science students! This group needs funds so it can continue its efforts, and expand them. 

But right now, there aren’t enough staffers here with time enough, or language skills strong enough, to tap into grants available internationally. One ELI volunteer -- who has no training in business or fundraising -- did online research, found some grant opportunities and wrote a couple of grant proposals. Imagine what you can accomplish if you have a background in this area! Grant writers, researchers, social science strategists: you can make an immense impact here.

One last important note: Because many of the women associated with this organization have been deeply traumatized and find the presence of men uncomfortable, the center requests female volunteers only.