Follow us on our journey of volunteering and self discovery somewhere between the chilly mountain wall of the Himalayas and the steamy jungles of the Terrai.
Stick with us and discover snow peaks and Sherpas, monasteries and monks, ashrams and prophets, temples, tigers, rhinos, deer, monkeys, elephants, leopards, sloth bears, wild boar, yaks and yetis, magic and mystery.
The orphanage was really fun. All the kids were nice, except for Gokul. That's the reason I don't want to go back to the orphanage.
It's good to have a Mum that can help you if you are hurt. It's good to be able to go to the doctor when I'm hurt or sick. It's good to have other food besides dahl bhaht and buffalo milk. I really don't like buffalo milk. It's disgusting. I can't believe the kids are really happy. It's good to have a Mum that tells you off, because she loves you. And it's good that she stands up for you and protects you.
I really hope that the kids will be able to have a warm shower one day and that they can buy land and then they will have somewhere to live.
We have talked about the things we would change at the orphanage to make it a better place for our friends to live. Just owning my own shoes, clothes and toys is a privilege.
We made a decision to leave the orphanage. I will really miss all of the kids. We all had so much fun together. But I don't like two of the men from the orphanage. One always promised that he is going to give us goat or chicken to eat, but he never did.
He also promised other things, but he never brought them. The other man is mean to the kids and he tells lies. I liked Bhakta and Bimila, they were nice to all of the kids.
I learned lots of things from being there. It's good to have a Mum. I learned that I like to be part of a family. I learned that the orphanage kids are the same as me. They study hard, so they can have a better life when they grow up. I understand their lives are better than they were before, but they still don't have much.
I hope the kids will eat better food and that they will be warm in winter time, even though the building is cement and there are no heaters or warm blankets. I really hope they get better smelling bathrooms that don't make you feel sick when you smell them.
We have talked about different ways we can help the kids when we get home. It is good to have been here, so now we know what is needed. Being warm and having nutritious food and people that love you is very important. Owning lots of things are a privilege.
Growth is an interesting thing. How do we measure our children's growth? Is it height, weight, maturity or verbal expression? How as a mother, do I acknowledge this growth, when do I nurture it and when do I step back?
The other night, I heard one of my sons come screaming across the roof of the orphanage and down the stairs to our room. It was a blood curdling scream, claiming he'd been stabbed!
There was no blood, but there was drama a plenty. The inexperienced surly teenage tutor, Gokul had lunged at one of my sons with a blunt pair of scissors and had left a faint mark on his stomach. The other son had sprung into action and hung off him like a fox terrier. Granted not a mother's ideal situation, but I'm pleased to say that when the chips were down, the brothers were there for each other.
The lioness stepped up and roared loudly!
Maybe because I am a woman, or because we are foreigners, whatever the reason, Gokul decided to lie about the incident. Bad move, very bad move! Cody and Taiga were completely incensed, that someone of authority could have behaved in such a way.
In times when difficult decisions need to be made, I like to step back from the problem to really get a clear view of what needs to be seen.
We have taken leave from the orphanage for a couple of days for the boys and me to get our heads around the other evening's event. Whilst I don't believe either of the boys has been in any danger, I do think this is a time to step back and evaluate things.
I have allowed the boys complete freedom to make the decision as to whether we go back or not. They both have a huge issue with Gokul, not just about the way he treated them the other night, but how he treats the other children. It is what it is, but it doesn't make it right.
In our discussions I have been amazed at the insight the boys have shown on summing up a couple of the adults that we have been dealing with. They have been very aware of some of the empty promises made to them and the outright lies told as well. Behaviour they have fortunately not been accustomed to, but have now become aware. Children are very good at exposing us for who we are and what we know. They are also very good at exposing us for who we are not and for what we don't know.
I questioned early in the trip if the bonds of brotherhood would be strengthened. Oh, they have! I wondered if they would become young men of integrity. They are well on their way!
Normally the kids at the orphanage don't do anything special, so we organised lots of games with prizes.
We had handstand competitions, wheelbarrow races, hopping relays, side skip races, dancing and singing competitions and limbo. All the kids got a present. They really loved our old school shoes, sports shoes and toys.
We also played soccer against some other boys in the village.
Then we finished the day with some yummy treats that we'd bought to share.
Life in an orphanage is quite fun apart from the food. The kids all like playing and cuddling me. Sometimes they are a bit smelly, but they can't help it. They don't have tissues, so they don't blow their noses. They sniffle a lot. They don't own anything of their own. They have to share everything.
It is the end of rainy season, so it still rains quite a bit. There is a local washing area in the village where you wash, but you have to keep some clothes on. It is very cold.
The village has a very cool irrigation system. They catch water from the melting snow higher up and direct the water to the washing area and down through the village so people can water their crops and wash their clothes.
We had to walk for 2 and ½ hours to the market today and then home again to buy some treats for the kids, because tomorrow is Kids Day in Nepal. We are all excited about kids' day tomorrow. We also emailed dad. We miss him.
Shree, one of the boys hurt his foot. Mum thinks it could be broken. Bhakta and Bimila put curry powder and cow manure on it to fix it.
I think I am very lucky that I have a Mum and Dad that love me. I like that we have a variety of food available at home. I like that we have hot water, a bathroom that doesn't stink and power.
From Taiga
Taiga helping Sagar with homework
Sita, Shree, Taiga & Isha
Taiga & Cody walked for 4 hours to get chips and cookies for kids day.
As I stepped out from the low wooden door of a neighbour's house, adorned in a red sari, jewellery and red bangles like a newly wed bride, the crowd erupted into loud, enthusiastic, cheers and clapping. The white woman had arrived!
Everywhere we went on Teej, the Hindu Women's Festival, women wore beautiful red saris. Women were on the streets, in buses, temples and other public places singing and dancing.
Traditionally married women fast for the long life and good health of their husbands, whereas unmarried women fast in the hope of getting a good spouse. Married women wear their red wedding sari. Unmarried women or widows wear a different colour sari. Can you imagine having a party where you re-wear your wedding dress with all your girlfriends each year!
My new friend Hari invited us to his home for lunch during this special festival. He explained it was very good for the women, as they are considered second class to the men in society. It was their time to be boss. Just as he ordered his fasting wife and mother in-law to make us all lunch! As I protested, he explained "wee arr nut farsting, eet tees only they, wee should not bee da ones to esufferr." I couldn't help wondering if it was Hari or me who missed the point.
After returning to our village, the local women invited me to the temple to dance and sing with them. I couldn't sing and judging from all the laughter, they thought I couldn't dance either. Despite the fact that they all kept telling me how good I was.
"Meeess you moust tak off yourr clothees." A Nepali woman tugged at my pants and dragged me to a room in her house.
As I stood there uncomfortably in my underwear with six Nepali women looking me over, a couple of thoughts went through my head. The first, I wished I'd worn my good undies and the second; maybe the time had come to introduce myself.
A red sari and jewellery appeared. The women pulled and tugged and pinned me into the new red outfit.
"Meeess you mousta bee keeping yourr eyezas closeed or eet weell nout bee good forr you." They painted my face with pink make up, tikas and red lipstick, all the while saying "Oohh, noow, you arre reealy beautifool"
After my enthusiastic official introduction to the party and the local female community, I was treated like royalty all evening. There is a scene out of the movie 'Mama Mia' where everyone danced around Meryl Streep, who was dancing up a storm. I was Meryl Streep! In fact, I danced right out of my sari!
My rather embarrassed sons just shook their heads in disbelief, my other fourteen charges screamed and cheered with delight.
I wonder, is it possible to die from eating the same food breakfast, lunch and dinner. If you are what you eat then we are fast becoming stodgy, wet and yet frightfully spicy! Dahl bhaht, dahl bhaht, dahl bhaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhtt!!!!!!!!!!
Even Morgan Spurlock, in his Michael Moore inspired documentary, could order what he wanted from the menu when he stuck to a strictly McDonalds diet in 'Super Size Me'.
It hasn't even been a week and I honestly don't think we'll survive the food. As well as our dahl bhaht diet. There are no corner stores so we are having Micropur in our tap water to avoid any nasty bugs. It tastes like pool water. An indoor heated over chlorinated pool. Remember there is no refrigeration. I have carefully read the instruction to our travel size Micropur, it says to add 10ml to every 100 litres. Seriously!!! Who travels with a 100 litre drink bottle!
I really think I'm starting to go crazy due to lack of protein. I have even taken to talking to the neighbours goats, stroking them and telling them how much I like them. I like them so much; I'd like to see them on the end of my fork! That is if I had one!
However, like all situations you need to try and look for the bright side. All this rice has sorted out our tummies. So much so that there is no longer any movement at the station shall we say? This is just as well, because as I have already mentioned, one eats with their right hand and washes with their left. It seems a simple enough concept. Then could someone please tell me why the tap in the bathroom is on the right?
Steve, just curious, is this considered an emergency; will our insurance company organise a food drop?
Food in an orphanage is terrible! We eat a lot of meals, but they are all the same.
I hate meal time, even though I'm hungry, because all we eat is dahl bhaht!!
We are currently pretending to have a rest, but we are really eating all the crackers that we have left in our bags. I really wish we hadn't already eaten our Tim Tams that Nonna gave us.
The kids are all really nice though. They're fun to play with and sometimes they want to cuddle me.
Food is a huge part of our lives. I think I can comfortably say the Corbetts generally live to eat. However, we are experiencing a whole new way of life, eating to live.
Bhakta does a fantastic job preparing meals for all the children including us. His specialty is dahl bhaht (white glutinous rice and yellow, spicy water. It's not my favourite, but clearly it is what his budget allows. We've had it for breakfast and dinner every day and lunch most days.
6am: Our day starts. The children brush their teeth, roll up their mattress and begin their studies. The Corbetts included.
8am: They all have a warm glass of buffalo milk, my kids included. It comes freshly delivered in a milk tin from the lady across the road each morning. I am given a sweet milky tea, also made from 'Buff' milk. I actually enjoyed it this morning.
8.30 Usually dahl bhaht for breakfast, however this morning was something different, it was a mix of dry puffed rice and some spices. It was very chewy and difficult to swallow. The boys did well, some accidentally spilled into my pocket, which was later emptied into the bushes down the road. A girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do.
10.30am: Lunch time, again dhal bhaht, however the children were at school yesterday so Bhakta showed me how to make Roti for lunch. The boys and I welcomed the change.
5pm: Afternoon tea is served, and it can be anything. Usually black tea with two plain dry slightly stale bread rolls, but we did have dry cookies the other day.
8pm: Dinner is served, again, dahl bhaht.
Whilst it is true the boys and I are finding the menu a little limited. We are remembering our place and always gratefully accept our meals. Yes, it is true that we may run screaming from dinner parties in years to come, should we be offered anything resembling dahl bhaht or rice for that matter, and the mere mention of 'buff' may in fact make us 'barf', there is an upside to the meals.
The meals run as follows, we all rinse our hands under a tap. We don't touch a thing and sit at the long wooden table and wait to be given our plates. We tuck our left hand away. Because we all know what that is used for! And it is. The right hand is our only utensil, no matter what the meal.
Once you are handed your plate, you don't wait! I can honestly tell you, you have never seen anything like it. Man these kids can eat!
They shovel, shove, slurp and burp their way through dinner. Not a drop is spilt! They literally lick the last morsels from the plate!
I am proud to say that both my kids at this stage accept their plates humbly and eat what they are given. Only three and a half weeks to go.
Admittedly the boys and I don't eat with quite the same gusto.
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.
