Memory Monday- Love is in the Air

Since tomorrow is Valentine's Day- it seemed appropriate to re-run a memory about real love. So here is a re post of something that happened in Nepal in 1987.


Daniel was in New Delhi while Sean and I were up in Nepal. My hands were full juggling my toddler and making sure a team of people were taken care of. 

After running around getting bus rides secured for Pokhara and various other destinations....the team arrived. Everything went like clockwork and before I knew it they were gone. The day after the team left, I decided I would just relax. With a book in hand, I trotted outside and told Sean to play in the grass. My head was buried in my book for quite some time, a quick glance up every now and then told me Sean was fine. I must have gotten lost in the story, because the next thing I knew I heard screaming from around the house. I jumped up and ran towards the yelling.

There stood one of the young girls from the children's home. She was pulling Sean out of a hole- this wasn't just any hole- this was the cesspool- the place all the human refuse went into. Someone forgot to put the cover over the hole and Sean fell in. If the little girl didn't pull Sean out of the hole he would have drowned in that muck. I swooped him up in my arms. He was coughing. I couldn't be happier to hear him cough, because at least that meant he was alive! After a thorough shower, I thought all was going to be fine. Unfortunately, a few days later he lay sick in bed. He was dying. (literally)

My sister helped me get him to the hospital and after several blood tests and stool samples, the doctors were shocked. They said he had every kind of dysentery a person could have. I enlightened them about his trip down into the cesspool. Nothing more needed to be said. They informed me that he was very ill and might not survive. When you hear that your son might not survive, you just want your husband to be next to you- you want him to say "It's gonna be okay"

I told my sister to stay with Sean, and I rushed down to the Post Office and sent a telegram to India. "Sean dying. stop. Need your prayers. stop."

Daniel told me later, that he started crying when he received the telegram. He knew he wanted to put a little faith into action. He wanted to get up to Nepal to see me, but he had no money to pay for his ticket. His story is that he was kneeling at his bed praying with his hands lifted up in the air and his eye caught sight of his gold wedding ring. He stood up immediately and went to sell the ring so he could fly up to see me. 

A second problem he faced was that he had never been to Nepal and he had no idea where I was. He spoke with someone who had been there and they tried to explain the way to him.

"You take a taxi from the airport to Boudha, and then you tell them to keep driving past the Stupa, you'll see a huge red house and you keep going...then you'll see a white house....but that isn't the one yet...you go further, and finally you will see another white house and the house you want is behind that house."

Believe it or not, he found the right house! Love can make a man do impossible things. I had no idea he was coming. When I saw him standing in front of me, I just screamed and started blubbering. I scared the pants off the two Nepali men standing next to me. 
 
Sean eventually got better. Twelve years later we bought a new ring to replace the one Daniel sold. It never bothered me that he didn't have his original wedding ring, because every time I looked at his ring less finger, it reminded me of how much he loved Sean and me. 

Hold on Tight, Mr. Jeeves

“…was remembering us coming from Pokahara on the top of the bus and you reading PG Wodehouse to me...was good but pretty dangerous riding on the top!!!”
 
As I read this excerpt from my sister's letter, it brought back interesting memories-- my sister has been living in the Himalayan region for 36 years. It is always great to hear from her, but I especially enjoyed this letter because of her reference to the trip from Pokhara back down to Kathmandu. Suddenly twenty years were wiped away and I saw us with tickets in hand. We clambered on board the bus only to see goats everywhere, people squeezed three to a seat and no space for us unless we thought sitting on the floor would be an option. I looked down at my ticket and back at my sister; the situation didn’t faze her for one moment. 

She said, "Follow me!”
 
I stumbled off the bus, following after her as she zipped around to the back of the bus. She stopped suddenly and looked up. I followed her gaze and all I could see was the luggage rack on the top of the bus. I looked at her and looked back up at the rack and then back at her again, only to see her face plastered with a big grin. Before the words came out of her mouth, I somehow knew what she was going to say.

 

"We are going up there!"

 


I'm like…"WHERE???"

She was already climbing up the ladder and I followed her. We did the entire trip from Pokhara to Kathmandu on top of that bus. I was reading my P.G.Wodehouse book aloud to her as we both hung on to the railing for dear life. There were moments when the bus swung so close to the edge of the mountain that I thought we were going to be deposited down one of those deep ravines.

We made it safely down to Kathmandu and within a short time found ourselves on another trip. This time it was a train ride from Bihar to Calcutta. I’m not sure how the trains are set up in India today, but at that time there was a special compartment for women. It wasn’t very big but it had more comfort than the outer compartments. In the middle of the night, a man’s hand looped in through a small opening in the door. It appeared that some men had decided they were going to come and share the women's compartment. Shrieks of horror filled the compartment as the women attempted to keep the door shut. I’m not sure where my sister got the large pin that suddenly appeared in her hand, but she didn’t waste anytime lunging forward to keep the intruder at bay. Every time the offending hand tried to sneak through the hole in the door, it was promptly pricked with the pin. The women’s compartment resonated with cheers but I could hear some yelps coming from the men who had been pricked.

Standing with pin poised, my sister said, “Don’t worry everyone, go back to sleep, I’ll stand guard.”

I smiled, wishing I had brought another of my P.G. Wodehouse books to read to her as she stood guard.

A real love story- Nepal 1987

I returned to Nepal in 1987. I will steal an old journal entry of mine for this post-- because it
captures an interesting part of my stay in Nepal.

Daniel was in New Delhi while Sean and I were up in Nepal. My hands were full making sure a team of people were taken care of. After running around getting bus rides secured for Pokhara and various other destinations....the team arrived. Everything went like clockwork and before I knew it they were gone. The day after the team left, I decided I would just relax. With a book in hand, I trotted outside and told Sean to play in the grass. My head was buried in my book for quite some time, a quick glance up every now and then told me Sean was fine. I must have gotten lost in the story, because the next thing I knew I heard screaming from around the house. I leaped up and ran towards the yelling.

There stood one of the young girls from the children's home pulling Sean out of a hole- this wasn't just any hole- this was the cesspool- the place all the human refuse went into. Someone forgot to put the cover over the hole and Sean fell in. If the tiny girl didn't pull Sean out of the hole he would have drowned in that muck. I swooped him up in my arms. He was coughing. I couldn't be happier to hear him cough, because at least that meant he was alive! After a quick shower, I thought all was going to be fine. Unfortunately, a few days later he lay sick in bed. He was dying. (literally)

My sister helped me get him to the hospital and after several blood tests and stool samples, the doctors were shocked. They said he had every kind of dysentery a person could have. I enlightened them about his trip down into the cesspool. Nothing more needed to be said. They informed me that he was very ill and might not survive. When you hear those words you want your husband to be next to you- you just want him to say "It's gonna be okay"

I told my sister to be with Sean, and I rushed down to the Post Office and sent a telegram to India. "Sean dying. stop. Need your prayers. stop."

Daniel has told me later, that he received the telegram and started crying. He knew he wanted to put a little faith into action. He wanted to get up to Nepal to see me, but he had no money to pay for his ticket. His story is that he was kneeling at his bed praying with his hands lifted up in the air and his eye caught sight of his wedding ring. He stood up immediately and went to sell the ring to get the money to fly up to see me. Now, a second problem he faced was that he had never been to Nepal and he had no idea where I was. He spoke with someone who had been there and they tried to explain the way to him

"You take a taxi from the airport to Boudha, and then you tell them to keep driving past the Stupa, you'll see a huge red house and you keep going...then you'll see a white house....but that isn't the one yet...you go further, and finally you will see another white house and the house you want is behind that house."

Believe it or not, he found the right house! Love can make a man do impossible things!!! I had no idea he was coming. When I saw him standing in front of me, I just screamed and started blubbering. I scared the pants off the two Nepali men standing next to me. My arms flew around his neck and I squeezed him so hard. This was also a bit of a shock for the Nepali men, as women and men didn't show much public affection in those days.
Sean did eventually get better and twelve years later we bought a new ring to replace the one Daniel sold. It never bothered me that he didn't have a ring for all those years, because every time I looked at his ring less finger, it just reminded me of how much he loved Sean and me.

India and beyond-1985

Taj Mahal

The trip was over and life had to go on. I returned to India. After six weeks of traveling through various countries, it was nice to be back in a familiar place. I took time to stroll up and down Janpath.

Mango shakes made in a blender right there on the side of the road...who was thinking of germs? Not me! A nice samosa or two from the corner shop and then a flat plate with a huge dosa draped across it. Food was only a small part of India I was going to miss when I left.

With my bags packed, I boarded the plane to leave. I thought I might return in the future to India, but except for a brief 10 day visit in 1986, I never did return. I left India, but India never left my heart.

The view from my bedroom window in Nepal

I went to Nepal shortly after India. I only stayed for four months. During my stay I taught English at the Tribhuvan University. My little motorcycle puttered through the streets and alleyways of Kathmandu.


If and when the motorcycle was not working, I would take a taxi into town. A leisurely stroll into Boudha to hire a taxi and off I went.

Four months whizzed by and before I knew it the time came to bid Nepal a fond farewell - at least for a little while.