We Plough the Fields and Scatter

It is harvest time in Pokhara. All around, the fields are slowly being stripped of their crops, with men, women and children toiling long, hard hours to bring in the food for the winter. Although the schools started back this week after the Tihar holiday, many children and teachers are yet to return, as they are still working with their families in the fields.

The industry of the locals is admirable. Families work for hours with blunt scythes cutting away at their crops for the next season, whilst women carry huge loads of straw and grass on their backs, sometimes walking miles back to their homes from their fields.

Fields are changing colour as the old crops are mown down to make way for the new season of growth.

Harvest time seems an apt time to finish my working days here in Pokhara. Yesterday was officially my last day volunteering, with the next ten days set aside for some travel. However, I have not finished work– I’ve several more visits I want to make to schools, a volunteer manual to write and a few cups of teas and dinners to have with teacher friends before I go. Thus I will be mixing my time before departure  with a blend of treks, mountain climbs, school visits and cafe dwelling. Lovely. Tomorrow I leave for a four day trek to Gorepani, a beautiful area in the foothills of the Anapurna mountain range, with spectacular walks through rivers, forests, villages and pastures.

This week has been lovely: full of farewell visits, ceremonies and endless cups of tea. I have very much enjoyed the Nepali tradition of tea drinking: being a brew guzzling addict myself (teacher tea as my sister calls it), I always relish the offer of chiyaa (Nepali tea) and the offers come thick and fast once you get to know people over here.

Although still not appreciative of the excessive amounts of sugar that the locals shovel into their cups, there is something deliciously refreshing about a good sweet brew and a chinwag at the end of a day.

Tea has been part of several “ceremonies” that I have been treated to this week. As part of the teacher training, I have administered three follow up visits to schools this week for extra training and, being my last visit before flying back to London, I’ve been graced with some fond farewells, Nepali style.

The first school, Sunrise, pulled out all the stops. The whole school lined up facing the ceremonial table where myself and my fellow painting buddies were sitting.

Introduced to the school as “Chief Guest Mr Rachel Musson (!)” I was then presented with a wonderfully gracious speech of thanks, a beautiful flower garland and tikka blessing and the most endearingly marvellous letter of appreciation.

And hey, if they want to classify me as a man, let 'um. The “leaving programme” as it was continually referred to consisted of three of the teachers giving identical speeches in beautiful broken English about how great their school now was with new paint and training. They then turned on me and demanded a speech from Mr Rachel. Luckily I’d something up my sleeve, plus a sneaky little “Gift of Love” (a picture of their teachers painting the school) to wish them well for the future. Fond farewells, much clapping, handshaking and speeches later and it was time to say goodbye.

I also re-visited Bhalam school for their training and farewells:

and Shree Krishna Lower Secondary, where the speeches were endless; the headmaster rambling on for a good twenty minutes and then every teacher standing up to say their piece.

By the fourth school, Divya Jyoti, I had finally relaxed my anxious mind from worrying about the severely disconcerting bottom groping that had been happening during photograph taking. In two of the previous schools, I had felt the headmaster’s hand grab my left cheek in a stern vice-like grip during the final group photograph. Feeling rather distressed about this, I was finally comforted by the final school (where it happened once again) as this time, the headteacher quickly released their grip and apologised profusely for thinking that it was my waist they were holding…! Apparently, being much taller than the average Nepali woman, my derriere is where their waists or shoulders are, hence the normal place a man rests his hand for a cuddle in a picture. It’s the best excuse to believe anyway. And I am freakishly taller than all women here; one of the teachers at Shree Krishna demanded photographic proof of my giant stature which was the source of endless amusement for her!

Divya Jyoti School was the fourth visit, and a school that I also supplied paint and brushes to titivate their buildings. Unfortunately I had not got any time left to help with the painting, but the teachers were all really keen to have a go themselves. So I simply provided them with the materials, the plans and a few top tips (plus their toybox and library) and have left them to it. I plan to pop back before I fly to see what they have created!

Yesterday I delivered another full day of training to a school, Holy Kindergarten, that had been unable to make the initial two day’s training back in October. It was a great day – all of them very keen to learn and good-natured participants in all of the activities.

It was a really positive day all round, and I was touched to be invited to join them for a “light supper” at the end of the training day. 

Their definition of light is most certainly skewed as, mounds of rice, dahl, curry, popodoms, chicken, fruit and tea later; I staggered my way back home.

Talking of feasting, last Sunday I went round to the girls at Crossroads House for the final time. We had planned a bit of a shindig – with me providing lots of ingredients to do some cooking and them providing the entertainment. After decorating their flat with balloons, some good ol’ English bunting and some pretty wall stickers that i'd bought to brighten up their prison-like walls, we started work in the kitchen. As well as showing them how to cook a few English dishes, I was also inadvertently giving them a few lessons on culinary hygiene (as Raymond had noticed their slight lack of awareness of germs surrounding food preparation). I pretty soon had a chance to teach a few lessons, when one of the girls started chopping the peppers I’d given to her on the kitchen floor! Luckily, they were all very attentive students and we soon had a ship-shape kitchen up and running (evicting a few sneaky cockroaches I’d found hiding under a pile of bowls) with a good working knowledge of what not to do when cooking food! It was a lovely evening of cooking, feasting, dancing and chatting.

I was very sad to bid them farewell, and was so utterly touched when one of the girls came up to me at the end with a goodbye hug and an “I love you” rose.

When another gave me her little Ganesh elephant charm for "good luck for my whole life", I have to admit that the tears did start.

As my time here is drawing to a close, I thought I would give a final update of where I have spent money on donations whilst over here (with more still to spend in Tanzania in the new year), so all of you who so kindly offered your coffers can see where your kindness has been spent.

So, over the last twelve weeks in Nepal I have provided:

fully stocked toy-boxes to ten government schools

Educational games to ten government schools

Library book-boxes to eight government schools

Paint (and painting) to six government schools

(before)

 (after)

Teacher Training to ten government schools (including hire of training room, production of 100 training manuals and certificates, training materials and props, lunch, snacks and transportation reimbursement for all teachers)

Stationary gifts and educational resources for five government schools

Spare clothes from the market and disinfectant materials (for little “accidents”) for three nurseries

Games and toys for two orphanages

Weekly prizes for the debating classes at SOS Bahini

A big English farewell feast for the girls at Crossroads House

Breakfasts, coffees, lunches and 'Gifts of Love' for several teachers, Government ministers and Icon Nepal staff.

I hope that I have spent the money wisely and well (as promised) and that you are all able to feel that the donations given have been put to good long term use.

Watching the farmers working the fields this harvest has reawakened an old hymn from the depths of my mind, and I’ve found myself humming away to ‘We Plough the Fields’ this week. Thinking about the lyrics to this old primary school classic has made me relate to what I am seeing here in the people. The words (if my foggy brain is remembering them properly!) say be glad of "all things bright and good, the seed time and the harvest, our life, our health, and food.” Living here for three months has reminded me of the importance of valuing these very basic necessities of life, so much more than I ever did. The people that I am surrounded by here survive on the very bare essentials needed by humanity – water, food, shelter and health. And every day they give thanks for what they have; feeling lucky to have the little they do have, whilst at the same time constantly scattering the seeds for their future and the future of those around them. There is nothing more humbling than being given from people that have nothing and I have experienced this time and time again during my short time in Pokhara:

The small mountain school in Bhalam serving us a platter of bananas for a lunchtime treat when they have no food for their own children, or the school yesterday feeding me supper from their own plates; the lovely café owners I have befriended refusing to allow me to pay whenever I go in for a cup of tea,




Small children offering flowers and sweets from their own supply of treats:





the man from the paint shop giving me a lift home (in his remarkably beautifully decorated truck) when I wasn't able to get a taxi to carry all of the tubs of paint that I had bought,



children helping each other when they are struggling on their long walks to school,



families and friends always working together to support each other.






As the summer season here ends, and my time here draws to a close, I feel so grateful to have been a part of life here for these past few months, and to have learned how to scatter my comparative wealth effectively, in order to hopefully make things ‘bright and good’ for the next year's harvest.