Returning Home

Visiting my home. Not much has changed except it is missing my children riding their bikes and our 100 chickens.

Axel's Zen garden today.

Nepal took me by surprise this time. I never thought it would be such an emotional ride. While waiting for my friends to arrive from the Everest flight, I found myself welling up thinking about my life there and all the memories that I cherish. My driver joined me in the cryfest as he thought about Sedona coming outside every morning calling for her 'dai, dai'. We sat reminiscing of all the fun memories we shared together. It was unexpected and bittersweet.

Afton with Kumari girls

I have never been so connected to a physical place like Nepal. It spoke to me the minute I first arrived off the plane and I have never been the same since. I have told Axel that if I die, I would like to be cremated (however NOT in Pashupati) and I want my ashes to be spread throughout Nepal. It is a morbid way of me wanting to be back in the country I love. Plus, the extra dust would mix in just fine.

I think the reason why I have such love for Nepal is because it stretched me. For the first time, everyday life required strategy and creativity. Simply buying groceries was a feat. There was no neighborhood Albersons or Smiths. First, I had to go to the meat shop, then on to the fruit and veggie market, and finally, to the store that sold can and dried goods. Even my rice had to be purchased in a special section of town. For many people this would be an annoyance. But for me, it was an enticing challenge.

Lovely ladies in Patan

Life in Nepal was void of commercialism and competition. I don't think I ever thought about how I looked or what others thought of me (which is very apparent from all of my photos during that time). My worries were focused on whether we would be warm for the evening, or could I bathe my children in that water, or would the food spoil after 18 hours of no electricity? Strategic thinking was always in play. Rarely, if ever, did I ponder the color of my eye shadow or whether my house was clean enough.

A lot of my focus shifted during my time in Nepal. My family became such an important priority in my life because we only had each other. I also had more time to teach my kids and there was a lot of hands-on learning. My children rarely, if ever, watched television. (We often had no electricity anyways). Instead, my kids would learn about skinning a chicken, experiencing the cycle of life, or planting their own food. It came down to the basics. And basic living it was.

Nepal pushed me to deeply connect with my creative self. When I needed clothing for my children, I didn't have the option of driving to the mall and picking up something cute. Instead, I had to sketch something out, buy the fabric, and take it to a tailor. My creative juices were constantly flowing. It challenged me to look outside of, 'Oh I like that, let me buy it'. I was able to create something in my mind and do all the leg work that was required for it to be actualized, whether it was a sofa cover, a piece of furniture, or a piece of jewelry. I found that my right brain was in constant motion. I loved tapping into that, something that isn't nearly alive in me as it used to.

I think I love Nepal so much because I loved the me in Nepal. I loved the me that could get my hands dirty and explore the jungle, I loved the me that would be willing to jump off a bridge, and I loved the me that found opportunities to serve. Had I not lived in Nepal, I would probably not have known that side of me, as a mother, wife, individual, and citizen of the world.

Visiting Sarita's family. They hosted a very special Tihar puja for my gang. The generosity and kindness was immense.

Most importantly, I miss my children and family in Nepal. I miss the unique experiences we had there and the relationships that we developed. We have reminisced about our lives in Nepal several times since we have moved to Qatar. We are often moved from laughter to tears as we recall the many joyful experiences we had there. Inevitably, the conversation ends with the kids smiling, sighing, and then saying, 'I wish we were still there...'

The lessons I learned in Nepal are many--too many to list. But, the most important one I learned is that I am fortunate. No one can drive the streets of Kathmandu or visit a Nepali village without feeling overwhelmed with gratitude and thanks. While I lived there, I felt that way every single day. This was not because I had material wealth, because anyone can obtain that. Instead, it was because I was fortunate enough to live in such a beautiful country, with beautiful people, living a beautiful life. For that, I am truly blessed.

PS - More can be read about our girlcation adventures on Afton's site here.