Nepal Trip Post #1

My expectations never warn me about color, but my memory is always eager to show it to me. Arriving in Kathmandu, I was not so awed by the mountains or forests or cars or anything else I expected. Instead, my eyes were held captive by every glimpse of color that winked at them. The red brick buildings, the blue sign or awning of a passing shop, and the dark brown wood skeleton of a once living, not yet crumbled house. I didn’t expect the colors to interest me so much, but they did because I remembered them. I remember the colors from Nicaragua, Cambodia, and Tanzania, and I remember how they manifested in the same form: the vibrant life of an impoverished city. I believe that people back at home, sometimes including myself unfortunately, often hear poverty and think of a dull, dreary existence, and yet that is never the case. On the surface, yes, many of these people live with very few material things to call their own, and nearly none of the luxuries we enjoy. In 2015, the universe decided to take more from the people of Nepal. No one talks about it, there are no signs advertising rebuilding and restoration plans, but everywhere, there are crumbled streets and crumbled homes. Despite all this, it is always the color that reminds me that though it may be a hard life, it is still life. Everyone everywhere is moving, selling, buying, and building. Here, life must go on, and the Nepali people have no choice but to live life.

As I sat in the Class 7 room – a bare cement, 250 square-foot room with one whiteboard – observing the lesson on the first day, I wrote one phrase in my notebook next to my notes. I told myself, rather I begged of myself, “Don’t forget this feeling.” For a small, wonderful time, I only stared and grinned as I watched the students so intent on learning what they could about health, of all subjects. I smiled because I could not contain a fierce excitement within me. I simply wanted to teach. Where this came from, I am not sure. I remember being in the classes in Tanzania, terrified beyond belief. Certainly, this was a change for the better, and I intend to use it. I feel my teaching has improved drastically from my last trip to this one. Nevertheless, I have yet to be satisfied with my teaching. From what I see of myself and what I have been told. I have much to work on. These faults are and will constantly be one of my top priorities because my students rely on me getting better and because I know I can do it. I was reminded at some point of a proverb that many teachers know that goes back ages and ages, and is one of the foundations of education: teaching is hard stuff. That’s right, contrary to popular teenage belief, teaching requires time and effort in preparation. Because of this, I know I cannot let myself relax until I know I have over prepared for every lesson, and when I see the results in action.

Finally, and most importantly, I must make an earnest attempt to describe the Nepalese people. I have to say, there is not a single student in the entire school who is not incredibly bright, which is part of the reason why I was so excited to teach. I simply get the feeling that everyone here is very smart, but I only wish I were more persistent and had the knowledge to connect with the people I meet. With the students, I feel I am inching closer to this goal. Just as in Tanzania, I learned here that energy put into the class directly effects the energy you receive. My favorite part of each day is when I get carried away with teaching something, most of the time it is something I dreaded in my own education, seeing the interest and excitement in the eyes of my students, and letting this snowball of excitement carry the time away. Today, one of my favorite games to play was a smiling game. When I had the chance, I just looked at a few students and smiled, and I would soak in the light that radiated from the smiles and laughter I got in return. I feel myself getting sucked in closer and closer to these kids.

So far, Nepal has not failed to show me kindness and eagerness, and I have surprised myself in responding to such an environment. I still have much I want to learn about this place and its people, and I have many improvements to be made in my teaching. All I know is that I want to do better, and I want more.