Bhotenamlang

The going is slow up the mountain. We started trekking in the late afternoon and the sun was beating down on us mercilessly. We had to stop frequently for rest and water in the shade. We make our way up the mountain with a group of villagers most of whom are carrying heavy loads of rice, building supplies or farm equipment on their backs. It’s about 4-5 hours trekking to Bhotenamlang, our destination. We could probably do it in less time, but we have to stop frequently to visit with other villagers, have a smoke, drink some water, drink some roxy, eat biscuits…By the time we arrive in Radha’s home it is already 8pm. We finish walking in the dark being extra careful where we step because we are walking through rubble.

After walking for hours and passing hundreds of houses, we still haven’t seen a single house that is intact. News reports aren't kidding when they say that 90% of villages in Sindupalchowk have been destroyed. In fact here it is probably closer to 99 percent, even when you look across the valley to villages on the other side, you see only broken ruins. Yet, all around us the views are stunning and magnificent. At one rest stop, I pause to admire the view of the Himalayas in the distance. How can a place that creates and inspires so much beauty also be the source of so much destruction and pain?

Nepalis are resilient people, though; you can see it in the lines of their faces which have been hardened by a lifetime of hard work. The people here are mostly subsistence farmers. By the World Bank and United Nations standards, they would qualify as “living below the poverty line” without any regular income. Issues of health, education and nutrition most likely existed in these villages long before the earthquake. And the aid that has only recently come flooding into the area in the wake of the earthquake (which still hasn’t reached certain places) has served to highlight some of the larger development problems of the region.  The needs of village people here cannot be met by short term emergency relief, what is needed is a longer term commitment to improving health, education and quality of life in the region.

We were lucky to get a bus going as far as Tipeni where a local group has set up their base for distribution of food and supplies. There are also two medical teams stationed there with enough medical supplies to last for months including an RV with a generator which can be used as an operating room/ambulance. However, the medical teams are leaving tomorrow and the food distribution won’t last forever either. What happens after the sense of emergency fades and the desire to help burns out? Moonsoon is just around the corner and without proper shelter and a dry place to store food, the village people are going to fall on even harder times. We may not have had any outbreaks of disease yet, but that could change once the rains start.

The road to Melamchi was bad but the road to Tipeni could barely be called a road. The bus had to do some serious off roading through landslide areas in order to get to our destination. We almost got stuck a few times and at one point some men had to dig in the mud to make enough room for the bus to pass. From Tipeni we started walking. Radha hasn’t been back to her village in a very long time. As we walk, she points out the high school where she used to study. The school is also collapsed. One building which didn't sustain too much damage is being used as a camp. Radha used to walk 2 or more hours to school every day. She is one of the few people in her village to complete her class 10 exams. I wonder who will rebuild the schools in villages like these and how long it will take before kids can go back to school.

When we arrive in Radha’s village, we have to pick our way around fallen down houses to reach her family’s shelter. Her family has built a shelter out of wooden beams and metal sheets used for the roof. The shelter is too low to stand in and you have to duck to get through the opening (there is no door) though many people hit their head on the low beam going in and out (including me). They have straw mats to sit on. The cooking fire is in the entrance which keeps the shelter warm but also really smoky. When we arrive it is already dark and we are exhausted from the long day of traveling. The family offers us a bit of rice with a fried spinach-like vegetable (saag). We are given a tarp to sleep on with a mat and a blanket. Shortly after lying down to sleep the rumble of an aftershock passes under the shelter. I look up. I am sleeping directly under the main beam holding up the shelter. I sure hope it the shelter is solid.

The next morning everyone wakes up at sunrise. Radha leaves to go visit more of her relatives. I am left with the Grandma who is blind and sits in a corner and the kids. The older boys have tied some string around a rock and they are twisting the string to make the rock spin like a top. The kids are all filthy with snot running out of their noses. It reminds me a bit of my village in Cameroon and how I used to play a fun game called “lets wash our hands and face” with the little ones when they would come to my house (especially Djibirila who always had green slime all over his face and down his belly). After a while I get bored and go for a walk. All the women are out tilling their fields. They watch me curiously as I go by. I don’t think they see many foreigners in their village. I find the water source and wash my hands and face. By now, I am almost as filthy as the kids. Unfortunately, I wore my white Himalayan Adventure Girls t-shirt but it isn't white anymore. I hope I will be able to wash the grime out…

During my walk, I think about all the things I have to do before leaving. I only have one week left and my heart breaks at the thought of leaving this place. I am reminded of how hard it was when I had to leave Cameroon and I don’t want to go through that again, but I now I will have to. I feel like I am abandoning the people I came to help all over again. How can I leave my friends when their houses are in ruins? I walk back to the shelter with a very heavy heart.

When I get back, Radha is waiting for me. Her family is cooking rice but they have nothing to eat with it, they will eat it plain. Radha and I want to get back quickly to Tipeni because we don’t want to miss the bus back. We figure we can get food in either Tipeni or Melamchi. The walk down is much faster than the walk up. We arrive in Tipeni around noon only to find out that there are no buses going back to Tipeni that day, but if we wait around we might be able to catch a ride with one of the trucks transporting aid materials…Otherwise we will have to walk. It’s another scorching hot day. Walking to Melamchi would be brutal in this heat, we decide to wait and see if there are any trucks going by.

While we wait, I talk to one of the aid coordinators. He tells me that they have received enough rice and have been able to provide almost everyone in the district with rice; they have even been able to help some of the neighbouring districts. However, he complains that they received some donations which were non-essential – things like boxes of biscuits and chocolate bars. Although these are nice treats to give to kids at times like these, there are not enough for everyone and it creates conflicts. It would have been more useful to spend that money on things like dahl, cooking oil and salt to go with the rice. When we first arrived in Tipeni there was an awful smell of dead animals which were still trapped and rotting under the fallen buildings. The coordinator says that they started removing animals corpses the day before and they will continue again today although many volunteers are already starting to leave and they need a lot of help. It isn't easy work especially for big animals like ox which they have to carry and bury somewhere. It is also dangerous work because buildings can still collapse or the rubble could shift and someone could get injured. This is why rescuing people trapped in their houses and recovering bodies is supposed to be done by specialized teams, but in most remote areas, villagers had to do that work themselves because no rescue teams ever came to the rescue.

The air is suffocating in the tent, but outside there is no shade to hide from the sun. Radha and I still haven’t eaten anything though volunteers give us some juice boxes. I don’t like to take from the relief supply, but if we don’t eat or drink something we will pass out in this heat. Eventually, a truck goes by and we beg a lift to Melamchi. Turns out the driver is going all the way to Kathmandu and Radha talks him into driving us back. When we finally reach Melamchi around 2:30pm we stop for a cold drink and a quick lunch of chowmein then we hit the road again. The ride is really bumpy so it is impossible to sleep. Radha nods off a couple of times only to be brutally awakened again when we go over a bump and she hits her head against my shoulder. I know I am going to have bruises when I get home. By the time we reach Kathmandu I am covered in a layer of dust so thick, I’m not even sure my mother could recognize me. The first thing I do when I get home is jump into the shower. The trip was really exhausting but worthwhile if only to gain a better understanding of what is happening on the ground in terms of relief efforts to remote areas in Sindupalchowk. After we get some rest, we will see what steps we will take next and how best we can continue to contribute to that effort.

                           

Photo credit: Radha