...about his experiences while volunteering in Nepal.
As I scanned this message, posted on the wall of the CERV office in Kathmandu, my heart began to beat a little faster. 16 other volunteers and I were gathered, with a touch of nervousness, for the first day of orientation in June. "Change, huh?" I thought to myself, somewhat surprised. Me changing Nepal was the picture in my mind, and not the other way around. After all, what is a volunteer's job, if not bring about some shift, some real transformation? I imagined myself building bridges, teaching children, painting schools, and cleaning up the environment with a sort of reckless abandon. Sure, at the beginning of my orientation session, I knew my life would change a little. I would, of course, be living in a totally new country, adapting to a new lifestyle, and embracing a new culture. Some change in me was inevitable. I wasn't prepared, however, for the depth and meaning of this change.
As I reflect now on my month in Nepal, I realize the experience will last forever. Nepali hospitality is ingrained in my mind, a model of how to make visitors feel completely welcome. The sounds of Nepali orphans playing will linger in my ears - of children who have next to nothing yet still smile and love. The scent of incense still wafts through my nose, recalling the beauty and comfort of Hinduism. And the visions of the country's striking natural beauty will certainly never fade.
It was no mere backpacking tour. The complete immersion in Nepali culture went far beyond sightseeing, far beyond standing safely on the outskirts of a people and observing how they live. Instead, when I left, the bridge had made progress, the children had learned a bit more, a school had been painted, and the village looked a touch cleaner. Looking back, I recognize the wisdom in that note on the wall in the CERV office. The words were right, with a slight modification: you do, in fact, change Nepal. But the country changes you much, much more.