Life In The village from a westerner’s perspective

I took a shared jeep, which was packed with passengers, from Kathmandu to a small village near a town called Hetauda. The drive took about 4 hours. A close friend had invited me to visit her and her family, and to see the place where she grew up. The ride was bumpy, with many twists and turns, which made it a bit scary and uncomfortable, especially since there were no seat belts. I found myself gripping the handle on the side of the door to avoid being tossed around. Despite the rough journey, I always tell people that Nepali drivers are the best in the world—they really know what they’re doing.

Walking from the dirt road to my friend’s home

The jeep dropped me off at a place called Dhorsing, on a dirt road in front of a small shop. My sweet friend was waiting for me with a big smile, excited to walk with me up a rocky trail to her mother’s home on the side of a mountain. Later that day, we went on a short but challenging walk (for me) to meet her mom, who was further up the mountain taking care of her goats. Every morning, her mom carries a heavy load of grass on her back to feed the goats, talks to them in a special “goat language”, and tends to the fresh produce that grows in that area and around her home. My friend’s sister-in-law also makes the same trek with grass for the goats while carrying her 13-month-old son. From a foreigner’s perspective, life in the village is very tough. It was physically uncomfortable for me at times, as I’m not used to squatting for different tasks or using a “Nepali-style” toilet. Even my friend's grandmother, in her 80s, was out every day harvesting and picking vegetables. Though my five-day stay in the village was a bit challenging for me as someone who’s definitely more of a “city girl,” I felt incredibly well-cared for and had the opportunity to experience such a beautiful, and peaceful place.

My friend carrying grass or other heavy greenery up the mountain to feed the goats

My favorite part of being in the village was spending time with new friends and having meaningful conversations. It was special sitting outside, peeling vegetables, speaking a few words in Nepali with my friend’s mom, and talking to her sister-in-law, who was cooking a traditional deep-fried bread called Selroti over an open fire. One afternoon, we made momos (traditional Nepali dumplings) with a group of local young men, all lifelong best friends. A few of us tried a local alcohol called Raksi, though I only had a couple of sips as I don’t enjoy the taste of alcohol. One young man drank more than the rest of the group, and later, my friend explained that he struggles with alcoholism. He started drinking in his teens after his mom ran away with another man, leaving him and his father in poverty. Sadly, broken families are common in Nepal, and polygamy is also somewhat normal. Alcoholism and drug use are widespread problems here. It’s heartbreaking to see so many young people here dealing with feelings of abandonment and isolation. As a longtime follower of Jesus, I struggle to understand why God allows such suffering. I know the simple answer is sin, but it’s hard to know what to say to those in pain. I am deeply grateful for a God I can call "Father" who offers comfort, especially in times of deep suffering.

The view looking out in front of the home