An Open Letter to the Children of Nepal
by Bob Yehling, Singla Route
Namaste! I had always wanted to sit on the roof of the world and reflect on the special feelings that the Himalaya have elicited in my thoughts, hopes, and dreams since my own childhood. Recently I visited your country and realized this lifelong dream.
As exhilarating as the Himalaya are, I cannot say they were the high point of my trek. The high point was a special experience that was repeated every time I came in contact with one of your, the Children of Nepal.
The first thing I noticed were your eyes. They bared a luminescence, a pure light that laid to rest all those statistics of Nepal's poverty which we Westerners are forever compiling, as if by coming out ahead in the statistics we will reassure ourselves that we are indeed on the right path. Your smiles mock the analyses of Nepal done by the World Bank and others. Your eyes were a vivid reminder of our own journey back to the simple, and the ultimate union with the inner light that awaits us all. We sat together in places with magical names: Gorkha Bazaar, Barpak, Laprak, Laba, Khorla Besi, and Burang. I stared into your eyes, and felt your smiles evaporate the layers of reservation in my heart, as the sun diminishes puddles of rain to vapor, which then is resurrected to become clouds and nourish the land yet again. By sitting with your, I feel better prepared to carry the timeless, luminous messages of your eyes into the activities of my life -- through the heart, just as you do.
I watched you running along ridges and between terraces of rice and millet, up steep hillsides and down rocky staircases, showering us with your choruses of Namaste, said so sweetly and sincerely that we couldn't help but smile in response. I watched you carrying your bhais and bahinis (younger brothers and sisters) on your backs and hips while you played jump rope and hopscotch, or worked in the fields that have provided food for your families since time immemorial. You didn't mind our watching you, as you played outside your homes of stone and mud thatch, as you recited from your schoolbooks, as you sang joyous songs for the sheer delight of singing.
You no doubt think we are rich people, and in many ways we are. But how can a society be called rich when its children are taught, by necessity, not to trust or speak with strangers, or that there is no time to run around singing because the serious business of life awaits just around the corner. Our children are indeed rich in so many ways, but for too many the spark in their eyes has receded, and become very dim. The lucky ones will spend their lives searching for the magic that you know to be your birthright. My prayer for you is that you never lose this magic, because it is richer than all of the world's treasures combined.
Children of Nepal, that beautiful land of rushing rivers, terraced hillsides, and the majestic Himalaya, you have given me a gift greater than all your country's natural beauty. You have shared with me the secret of your eyes. I close my eyes and see your faces, and they ignite the light in my own soul. Your faces remind me of the most important journey any of us can take in this life, the journey to the center of our own heart.
I came to Nepal to see the Himalaya with my eyes. I left Nepal knowing what it means to truly See. Your eyes and faces taught me this. I know I can only repay you by passing it on. Farewell for now, Children of Nepal, until we meet again, along the journey of Heart.
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