Once (and then twice) I visited a little village in Nepal called Pumagon, Puma for short.
I brought only a film camera (Canon AE-1) with me. I love these memories so much.
Our team of thirteen people, mostly from southern California, bussed and hiked our way up to this little village. It was like stepping back in time. 100 year-old stone houses without electricity made us feel like we were in a different century, until one of the girls pulled out their cell phone for a dance party. We travelled to share some love to the villagers. We helped a blind man rebuild his house that had collapsed earlier that year and to chop wood for a widow before the winter.
Our bodies and emotions were exhausted by unfamiliar food, climate, sleeping quarters, language barriers, and manual labor. Most of us were grumpy from the culture shock and couldn’t wait to get back to the city. Once we were back in our Kathmandu home, we missed them. We missed their sweet laughter, playing games with the kids, sharing treats, and despite all of our complaints, it was the satisfaction that came from being truly selfless that we missed most of all.
We eagerly went back for another, longer, stay in the village. This time it was much sweeter and we never wanted to leave. During this colder season, I’m reminded of our time in Nepal, bundled up with these kind people. I miss them dearly and can’t wait to get back to our friends someday.
I am so thankful this season for friends all over the world. Every continent holds a piece of my heart.
