Wow! So much has happened in the last couple of months, but I’ll try to keep this short.

Workshop in Sri Lanka

Last month, I had the privilege of accompanying my coworkers to Sri Lanka for a disaster education training workshop. During the training, I was able to be part of a cross-cultural exchange which reminded me that effective communication is not always dependent on language or shared cultural backgrounds. It is also about patience, shared understanding and mutual respect. I was also asked to lead a session, which entailed instructing a game in front of almost forty people. In the moment, it was terrifying. Public speaking is one of my biggest weaknesses, and standing in front of a room full of people was certainly outside of my comfort zone. But it also served as a reminder to never let fear stop me, and it gave me the opportunity to challenge myself. 

Sri Lanka was an amazing experience – not only for confronting my own fears and engaging in cultural exchange, but also for strengthening my relationships with my coworkers. Partaking in this workshop alongside them gave me a new appreciation for the work they are doing and for the privilege I have had, learning from them. 

Festivals

September marks the start of the festival season in Nepal, and so far I’ve been lucky enough to celebrate Gai Jatra, Shree Krishna Janamashtami, and Teej! Each has been amazing in its own way, giving me a deeper understanding of the local traditions, beliefs and community that make Nepal feel increasingly familiar to me.

Gai Jatra honors relatives who passed away during the previous year. It was so incredible to witness the way life and death intersect in a culture so different from my own, and to see how remembering someone can be transformed from personal grief to a shared collective experience. 

Shree Krishna Janamashtami is a festival that celebrates the birth of Lord Krishna, the eighth incarnation of Lord Vishnu. I spent the day at a friend’s house, where we ate, talked, played and dressed up the “little ones”. It was a simple day but being surrounded by people and slowing down has been something that I have found myself appreciating the most. 

Teej is my favourite festival I have taken part in so far. Teej is a three day festival dedicated to Goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva, with a day of feasting, a day of fasting, dancing, and singing, and a final day of rituals and prayers for family well-being. 

The day of feasting was spent sitting around a table with Helika, Jenny and Riya prepping, folding, steaming and eating veg momos. The following day my friend Indra joined Helika, Jenny, and I in celebrating the day of fasting and dancing. We spent the morning at Helika’s house, putting on our kurtis, doing our makeup, having tikas placed upon us by someone older, and, of course, dancing. 

Once ready, we headed to Pashupatinath Temple where we stepped into crowded streets filled with women in beautiful red and green sarees. The line to enter the temple stretched hundreds of women long – I was told that the line stays that way from morning till night, with some women arriving as early as 3 a.m. to secure their spot! 

As we made our way further into the main area, we encountered a dance circle where women, shoulder to shoulder, took up the entire walkway. Despite the brutal heat and their empty stomachs, they danced with the biggest smiles on their faces. As we tried to sneak through, the women took my hands, pulled me in, and began dancing with me, showing me their traditional style. 

Nothing compares to the feeling of being whole-heartedly welcomed into a culture I was entirely unfamiliar with just four months ago. 

Rituals that make this “home”

Although the big experiences have made my time here incredibly special, they are not the ones that have made Nepal feel like home. It is the small rituals that I have slowly built. 

  • Going to the markets on Saturday mornings
  • Having dinner at my go-to restaurant, where I have come to know the staff, and they have come to know me
  • Sitting around the table sharing food and laughs with Helika and her sisters
  • Walking into work and being greeted by Jagannath and Helika’s smiling faces
  • Practicing my Nepali with the shopkeeper beside my apartment
  • Exchanging small greetings with the smiling security guard that I pass everyday on my way to work
  • Playing with our tail-wagging work puppy 
  • Sitting on the back of a bike, whipping through the small, twisty streets of Kathmandu and passing all the places I have become familiar with
  • Speaking the little Nepali that I know with strangers I meet – their initial shock and excitement, followed by a warm smile never fails to make my day

These moments are the ones that have made Nepal feel familiar and they are the ones I cherish the most. I know when people ask me about my time in Nepal these moments are the ones I will think of. 

Recent events

Less than three weeks ago, flash floods made international news after devastating communities across Nepal. After having many conversations with my Nepali friends where they highlighted how poorly the media captured the whole truth of the situation, I felt disheartened. This was not an isolated event, but another crisis the country has had to endure in recent years.

Nepal has faced the consequences of our climate crisis for years – floods, droughts, severe landslides, unpredictable monsoons, glacial lake outburst floods and other climate-related hazards that have taken lives, displaced communities, and placed an immense toll on Nepal’s citizens. 

During one of these conversations, one of my friends, Arisha, said to me, “Nepal has no time to heal.”

Her words stayed with me. 

With over 5,000 people still missing and over 1,000 confirmed dead as a result of these floods, alongside the 76 lives lost during the Gen Z protests one year ago, and the 2015 earthquake, where roughly 9,000 individuals lost their lives and 20% of homes were destroyed, her sentence prompted a deep reflection on the reality of life in Nepal. While these events occurred under different circumstances, together they show how Nepal has endured one crisis after another, often without enough time to heal in between. It also made me reflect on my own connection to that reality, coming from a country that contributes so much to global warming while experiencing far fewer of its consequences. 

The people of Nepal – its beautiful, generous, resilient people – have faced challenges so immense that it is difficult for those who have not experienced similar circumstances to fully comprehend. They have faced political unrest under a government accused of corruption, while simultaneously experiencing the consequences of a global issue to which they have contributed so little. 

Yet, Nepali people remain the most resilient, optimistic, and positive people I have ever encountered. The same people who have undergone so much continue to offer so much to others. They welcome you into their homes, share their food, offer their kindness and truly make you feel like you belong.

The people of Nepal deserve to receive everything they offer: generosity like none I have known before, unconditional kindness, mutual respect, and, most importantly, an environment where communities are not constantly living with the threat of another horrific disaster. 

Living in Nepal and working in disaster education, I have learned many valuable lessons, but the one I value most is that people, their communities and their memories are at the heart of resilience.