One of the highlights of my trip to Nepal in 2000 happened when the vehicle I’d hired had a flat on the way back to Kathmandu from Kodari near the border of Tibet. The driver had to take the tire on a bus to another town to get it fixed. He left me with a family that lived by the road. The kids had just gotten home from school and they were thrilled to have a foreigner dropped on their doorstep.
The boy was older and spoke English pretty well. The girl only knew a little English, but her fascination was clearly evident. I sat outside at first, but as the time dragged on they invited me inside to watch TV. The girl was itching to search through my purse. She loved how smooth it was. I showed her some things I had, then found my photos.
I had brought just a few photos with me in case I got homesick – my friends, myself with a music group I liked, and my home. Both kids were eager to see them, but the boy in particular held the pictures close to his face and looked at them hungrily. “This is America?” he asked. I said yes, and he seemed to be trying to see every little detail in the pics. I wished I had brought more. I also wished I had brought a small map of the US to be able to easily point out where in America I live.
I was there for several hours because this was a festival time in Nepal and many businesses were closed, forcing my driver to go to more than one town to get the tire fixed. When I saw him putting the tire on the car I went to talk to him, and he immediately said “Are you very angry?” He probably didn’t believe me when I told him I wasn’t. It had been a really cool experience.
I had already seen animal sacrifices, temples, Himalayan roads with hairpin turns, and the buses that make you back up on those hairpin turns because there’s no room to pass. Women washing clothes in streams that flowed down the mountain over those same roads. Women in bright saris riding on the backs of motorcycles going to celebrate the festival. Heard Nepali disco music (again – my driver).
I realized that it was basically people going to work, doing their household chores, going to worship – just an ordinary life.
And to these kids living alongside the road between Kodari and Kathmandu, I was the exotic one. My country was interesting and strange.