“Om Mani Padme Hung, Om Mani Padme hung” the mantra that is observed on temples and prayer wheels throughout Nepal and carried through the streets by the chanting of this hauntingly beautiful mantra. Originating from Tibbetan Buddhism, it’s meaning is complex and cannot be translated into a simple phrase or even a few sentences. The basics of the mantra incorporate generosity, ethics, patience, compassion, perseverance, concentration and wisdom. It is said that all the teachings of Buddha are contained in this one mantra. The depths of this power and lack of words to explain it, are exactly how I would describe the people and cultural strength in Nepal. It is unlike anything I have ever experienced.
I am on day 13 in Nepal with our student volunteer team Nicole, Kevin, AJ and Ava and our team leader Jen. We are on a trip that was never supposed to happen. Two earthquakes rocked Nepal within three weeks. Other programs cancelled, and the integrity of our program was questioned. Deciphering fact from fiction from our fear based media outlets was a challenge. After taking every precaution and communicating with those on the ground in Nepal, the choice to move forward with our trip was clear. I arrived the day before the group and confirmed immediately that our decision was the right one. Witnessing a tarmac filled with supplies from around the world, waiting to be taxed, was my first indication that our hands on approach was needed. We did not encounter any other teams and there was endless work to be done. I was told that just seeing foreigners walking down the street was bringing smiles and hope to the people. Of course we weren’t satisfied with just showing up.
Throughout our two weeks in Nepal we have pushed ourselves to give everything we have. Asking ourselves, “have we done everything we can?” at the end of each day. During the day we teach at the Deeya Schree school to classrooms full of 150 anxious students. They have been out of school for a month because of the earthquakes and were so eager to get back into their routines. In developing countries the kids actually want to be in school, it is seen and treated as a privilege. The students we teach reside in the slums of Manahara Bhasti and are desperate for a chance to take a path different from their parents. They carry the weight of their entire families on their tiny shoulders. No working computers, no educational posters on the walls, nothing fancy at all and no complaints. We teach eight classes a day and have slowly earned the respect of the students and teachers, a very hard task. Most volunteers that come into the school can handle 1-2 classes a day because of the high energy of the overcrowded classrooms. Our group arrived early and left late. Our students had also prepared lesson plans prior to arriving and had something prepared for each subject, every day. Once they got the hang of it, I observed our student volunteers come alive with confidence and become the type of teachers that impact students forever. This is only half of our job while in Nepal. After school, at 4:00pm we begin our manual labor; This is not just any manual labor, it is personal. Taking down someone’s home, brick by brick while standing next to the person who has lived their entire life there, will rock you to your core. A widow, a father of three, a family of 11, we helped them all. I was shocked that we were the only foreign team helping with demolition. This demolition is critical to complete within two weeks, prior to the monsoon season. Trying to salvage their ground floors from further damage so they have somewhere to begin to build from, is paramount. Cockroaches crawling over our feet, dust and dirt in our eyes, blood and blisters, we pushed. When you find homework in the rubble, from the day before the earthquake, your task becomes a need and not a want.
Throughout this trip I have not heard one complaint from our student volunteers. They are our most experienced group to date and have been with our program for four years. They don’t just have a special place in my heart, the have the penthouse, private suite with butler included. They have helped shaped this program into everything is has become. Turning my own personal need to contribute to this world into something I have to do, not a need or a want. I do this for them so that their hearts and souls are expanded into places they never knew existed. So that they will continue down their own unique paths to uncover their true passions in life and help others along the way.
I have seen someone take their first breath and watched someone take their last. The moments in between have been filled with great love and loss. Looking back at my experiences around the globe, I come back to one thing that keeps me afloat. I think mostly about the hearts, acceptance and kindness of the people in these places. Not the tourist attractions, shopping or souvenirs, but the people and the light of their beauty in the darkest of situations. I have witnessed the most extraordinary examples of loyalty, resilience, creativity and hope among those who have been cast aside as hopeless. Born without luxuries or any foreseeable opportunities, and still able to carve out their own unique space in all of the chaos and loss that surrounds their everyday lives. Thank you, Nepal.
“Om Mani Padmi Hung”
LM
With countries that vary so drastically with landscapes and customs, people and traditions, you would think that similarities would be hard to find. After traveling the world this summer and being amongst some of the most needy people in the world, I can tell you, without question, that the only thing that separates us are the circumstances we were born into. We are all born with a beating heart to love with, a brain to think and imagine with and the ability to help one another. These are the basics, and in countries like Nicaragua, Nepal, Cambodia, and Tanzania, it’s where they start. It is not a realization they come to after living a life without purpose. What they are not all born with is money, opportunity, a family that wants them or a government that supports them, and somehow they find a way.
In 2009 I had an experience that drastically changed the path I was on and revealed to me my purpose in life. I did not feel complete in my new community of Vail, Colorado. Having moved from my hometown of Orlando, Florida after a major break-up, I did not feel connected yet to my new home, or to myself. Terrified of the unknown, but determined, I decided to get ambitious and go on the county website to search for volunteer opportunities. I came across an opportunity to become a youth mentor. Within the next two days, I sat through a quick interview at Starbucks and a passed a background check. That very same day, I was standing in a middle school classroom full of students deemed “at-risk” by their teachers. They wouldn’t talk to me, look at me, and my voice cracked when I spoke to them from a manual I had never laid eyes on before that moment. I felt scared, inadequate, like being the new kid at the first day of school, they looked right through me. I left that first day and cried on the way home. I had not had many experiences up until that moment where I had to put myself out there and try to fit in or be liked. Having grown up in the same town my whole life, I was “grandfathered” in to almost every situation and always had another person to introduce me to new situations. The safety net was gone, and it was in that vulnerability that I learned the value of pushing through fear and anxiety to everything waiting for me on the other side. So, I continued to show up every week, sitting in the parking lot before every session, planning my escape but never actually escaping. Heading in that classroom to face my fears about my own inadequacies while helping teenagers see past their own. It was in that classroom that I filled in the blanks of what was missing from my life. Giving what I had, even though I didn’t fully know what that was at the time. A month went by and then it happened, her name was Adela, and she was 12. Her hair was always in face, hiding, shy, but strangely intimidating. I walked in the classroom and she said, “Hi Lisa-Marie!” I almost fainted, I have never been so shocked to hear my own name. I over-enthusiastically replied with something weird like “Good-day!” My nerves had taken over. Up until that moment I had felt invisible but trusted my instincts that what I was doing would one day matter to these kids. Looking back, if I hadn’t felt invisible and intimidated the experience would never have been as impactful to me. These kids I was mentoring felt invisible everyday at school and every night at home. I needed to know what that was like to be able to mentor from that place. Throughout the rest of the semester I got to know them each on a level I never, ever could have anticipated. They trusted me, respected that I kept showing up each week, and once I got past the exterior, they accepted me for exactly who I was. I have never felt so free in my entire life. I was whole-heartedly invested in how these students turned out, it was my responsibility. They were brilliant, capable, enthusiastic, and not trusted with much more than getting good grades and being nice to their siblings. This experience is why Children’s Global Alliance exists today.