The Lucky Ones

As it wheezed, sneezed, jerked and lurched its way along the road from inner Kathmandu to Kitipur, a town at the southern end of the Valley. The taxi filled to the brim with fumes, dust and us. The boys keeping one eye on the road, the other on our bags balanced precariously on the roof. Not tied down! We made the drive in record time.

As we pulled up in front of a very ordinary looking building at the foothills of the mountains surrounding the Kathmandu Valley, I wondered momentarily, could this be it? As my eyes swept from the roof to an open door, I saw them, a curious group of smiling children.

When we met with Hari, from COTS (Children off the Streets) at KEEP (Kathmandu Environmental Education Centre), he expressed some concerns about taking western children to a Nepali Orphanage. Will they sleep on the floor? What will they eat? How will they bathe?

My reply was simple; we will live as everybody else does at the orphanage.

We spent our first afternoon on the rooftop, flying kites and making paper planes. The kids loved it; both my boys who demonstrated how to make the planes, and the children that carefully followed the instructions on how to make and fly them.

Friendships were quickly formed with Cody and Taiga.

There are 14 children currently living here, with 2 more girls due to arrive during our stay. They range from ages 6-14, we think. Nobody seems sure on exactly what age the children are.

They are all polite, have their own heartbreaking stories to tell and are in desperate need of attention.

There are three staff members, Bhakta, he is the cook.  Bimila, she cleans and washes the clothes and Gokul who acts as an inexperienced teenage tutor. None of them speak English.

The children are encouraged to bathe in the public bathing area or in the rain once a week. That's only during the school term; they don't wash on school holidays at all. Just for the record, we are still bathing daily. There is no soap, no tissues, no toilet paper, no hot water, no refrigeration and no sheets on their beds and only a few hours of electricity a day.

And yet, they are happy. They are the lucky ones, chosen from a long waiting list of hopefuls.

The alternative life for these children could be very different. They could be living on the streets sniffing glue and begging tourists for money or being sold into child labour or brothels in India, as are some of their siblings.

As both my boys went to sleep last night, they cuddled in close and told me they loved me. I know they meant it and I know they know who the lucky ones really are.

x Lisa (very grateful Mum)

Making Paper Planes