Maoists, Dhaal Baat and Beautiful Boys

Well, since my last post, a lot has happened here in Nepal. We are now into the 6th day of the Maoist strike against the Prime Minister, and still he has not resigned. Things have taken a turn for the worst. We noticed after a few days, the mobs in the streets started carrying large sticks and we had a rock "jokingly" tossed our direction when a bunch of us were walking by. As every day passed, the tension seemed to build.

Projects Abroad decided to move 7 of us volunteers from Lok's lovely home in Banepa to Bhaktapur and Kathmandu. I moved to Bhaktapur with two other volunteers, since this is where our work is. The morning of the move was a little tense; we were the only car on the road, and the only reason we were allowed to drive though the mobs was because there were white people in the car. In fact, even with the words "Tourists Only" on the van, a PA representative (she's white) had to ride out with our driver because he alone could not get through. The mobs just stared at us threateningly as we drove through. But no stones were thrown.

Three of us are now in Bhaktapur at the house of a lovely man named Ramesh. The other four went to Kathmandu, and being in the last couple of weeks of their time here in Nepal, decided to fly home early with the strike escalating and volcanoes still erupting in Iceland. Ramesh and his family have a very nice house, but the schedule here is a little different from Lok's. We eat dhaal baat (which is basically white rice, lentil curry and spicy, soggy veggies) for breakfast and dinner. I don't know how they do this their whole life. But most Nepalis do. And then you ask them what their favorite food is and they reply, "dhaal baat." Odd. They really should try pizza, I bet that would rock their world.

Everyday, myself and Suse, another volunteer from Germany, walk to a Muscular Dystrophy center for boys. It is basically a tiny one room building next to a bunch of homes where parents bring their boys with MD to hang out with each other for the day. There is one large bed, some basketball hoops, balls, paints and a TV with Wii (for when the power is on). In the morning, Suse and I take several hours to stretch each of the boys (she is a trained physiotherapist and gives me instructions so I can help her now and pretty much perform the whole routine myself) and then in the afternoon we play with them and hang out. These boys are incredible. It has only taken three days and they are already comfortable with us. They yell my name, joke around, smile and we whistle a lot together (songs like Jingle Bells) because it helps build their stomach muscles. They are really beautiful kids, and it is so sad to see their current states. Their ages range from 11-19 and some of them are very weak and have terrible contractions (I think this is the word Suse was translating in German for me) in their hips and knees and ankles, to where they can't extend at these joints. Suse says they look terrible compared to MD kids of the same age in her country, just because the treatment here is so poor. It's sad to think that their state could have been prevented with a little more knowledge and care. But for now, we try to help them as best we can, try to make them smile, work on our Nepali vocabulary and talk about their idol, Spiderman, quite often.

Right now, we are taking it a day at a time. We come home every day after work and watch the news, but things have only been getting worse. Last night, even though the news was in Nepali, we could see video of trucks being stoned in Kathmandu and crashing into buildings, angry riots, lots of policemen and a Prime Minister still not willing to resign. The Prime Minister's followers, called the Youth Force, is anti-communist (so anti-Maoist) and they say that they plan to be entirely peaceful and will not use violence. I guess we will see. I know many tourists have been evacuated from Nepal already and the US Embassy advises US citizens in Nepal to not leave houses or hotels unless absolutely necessary. Apparently, Nepal has a current danger rating of 3.8 out of 5. I didn't know such a scale exists, but if that gives you some kind of idea of the uncertainty and instability here, then there you go.

So to wrap it all up: still safe, still striking, trying to make boys smile, and wondering each day if I will be forced to go home tomorrow.