Monday, July 14,
2014
Today started with Nepali lessons. Thankfully they are now done. So many ways to
say one word and we were told if you use the wrong word when addressing someone
they take it that you are crazy. This
seemed to be a real factor especially when it comes to women. Women are at the bottom of the heap.
After this we arrived for a sort of introduction to the school, director and kids. Children's Paradise School is the only school in Pokhara that will take special needs kids. The disability does not matter. Bunty runs the school and says that there is quite a waiting list to get in for kids with disabilities.
The school capacity is about 50 kids but this enrolment has dropped over the last year as many parents think that a disability is contagious. This concerns her because without the kids enrolling she will not be able to afford rent for the school. This is approximately $1600.00 for the year which is not a lot here but precious here in Nepal. She can enroll more kids with disabilities but that will mean the other kids will leave.
After this we arrived for a sort of introduction to the school, director and kids. Children's Paradise School is the only school in Pokhara that will take special needs kids. The disability does not matter. Bunty runs the school and says that there is quite a waiting list to get in for kids with disabilities.
The school capacity is about 50 kids but this enrolment has dropped over the last year as many parents think that a disability is contagious. This concerns her because without the kids enrolling she will not be able to afford rent for the school. This is approximately $1600.00 for the year which is not a lot here but precious here in Nepal. She can enroll more kids with disabilities but that will mean the other kids will leave.
The school is a preschool from 3 years old to about
7. Nikitta who has Spina Bifida is 12
and in grade 7. This poses a problem as the school is not licensed for this
grade level. Nikitta must write her grade 7 exams at the end of the month at
another school. The principal is quite concerned as no one is allowed to go
into the school with Nikitta to help her with things like transferring into a
chair and bathroom breaks so essentially she must go into another school where
she has not been welcomed in the past, bullied, hit and abused and still
expected to write the exams and then pass.
There have been many success stories with other children who have gone onto higher grades from this school which is really amazing. Bunty has no formal training but has advocated on behalf of the children. She encourages the parents to interact with the children and not write them off as useless empty vessels. The culture here is such that the majority of the special needs kids are ignored once home, locked up and forgotten.
Today I will focus on a boy called Asran. He is a thin boy with a mischievous grin and dancing eyes. He is slower mentally and very hyper along with ADHD. His father does not acknowledge his existence. Last year his parents took him out of school and kept him locked up in a room. As soon as they opened the door he would bolt. They ended up putting him into a sealed barrel and leaving it up on the roof until they came home. They put him back into the school in February, but he has regressed so far back because of the abuse. He now has seizures but the mother will not give him his medication because the Lama told her it was demons. Each child is sent home with an agenda book which explains what the school is working on with that specific child. Materials are also sent home but they are never used. Neither of Asran's parents have signed any of his work nor taken any interest in his capabilities. He smiled and clapped when we were introduced. It melts your hearts to hear the children say, hello auntie or hello Didi (big sister).
There have been many success stories with other children who have gone onto higher grades from this school which is really amazing. Bunty has no formal training but has advocated on behalf of the children. She encourages the parents to interact with the children and not write them off as useless empty vessels. The culture here is such that the majority of the special needs kids are ignored once home, locked up and forgotten.
Today I will focus on a boy called Asran. He is a thin boy with a mischievous grin and dancing eyes. He is slower mentally and very hyper along with ADHD. His father does not acknowledge his existence. Last year his parents took him out of school and kept him locked up in a room. As soon as they opened the door he would bolt. They ended up putting him into a sealed barrel and leaving it up on the roof until they came home. They put him back into the school in February, but he has regressed so far back because of the abuse. He now has seizures but the mother will not give him his medication because the Lama told her it was demons. Each child is sent home with an agenda book which explains what the school is working on with that specific child. Materials are also sent home but they are never used. Neither of Asran's parents have signed any of his work nor taken any interest in his capabilities. He smiled and clapped when we were introduced. It melts your hearts to hear the children say, hello auntie or hello Didi (big sister).
Asran
Playground
He is just one of the children we will be doing one
on one sessions with this week.
This evening we have had our first real downpour since we arrived. We have been in the monsoon season but while in India it had not hit and here in Nepal we have been lucky enough to avoid the downfalls as they happen during the night.
Tonight it came down in sheets. We had umbrellas but all they do is keep the rain off your head but not the rest of your body. As the sidewalks and alleys become rivers you are instantly soaked with all matter of sludge. You know the cow paddies you avoided walking into during the day, have now turned into this mysterious mud that has mixed with the water, that is now being soaked up your legs by the skirt that has become a squeegee. You also realize that the mud you feel between your toes slipping in your sandals is most likely not just mud. This makes you walk a bit faster along the slippery stones and boulders which is your road. Once home you
realize how contaminated you have become, as your mosquito bites itch and wonder if you will get sick from the bacteria and germs that have multiplied in the heat and sun. Then you remember the afternoon bus ride, the little boy who sat on his father’s knee beside you, coughing and hacking into your breathing space, while the river of sweat from his father’s arm mixed with the spittle of the little guy to settle onto your face. You realize where you are and truly how lucky you are to live in a country with paved roads. You smile and think of Asran and realize that this is daily life for people here in Nepal so be thankful for small blessings. (At least we have clean water even if we need to use a bucket.)
This evening we have had our first real downpour since we arrived. We have been in the monsoon season but while in India it had not hit and here in Nepal we have been lucky enough to avoid the downfalls as they happen during the night.
Tonight it came down in sheets. We had umbrellas but all they do is keep the rain off your head but not the rest of your body. As the sidewalks and alleys become rivers you are instantly soaked with all matter of sludge. You know the cow paddies you avoided walking into during the day, have now turned into this mysterious mud that has mixed with the water, that is now being soaked up your legs by the skirt that has become a squeegee. You also realize that the mud you feel between your toes slipping in your sandals is most likely not just mud. This makes you walk a bit faster along the slippery stones and boulders which is your road. Once home you
realize how contaminated you have become, as your mosquito bites itch and wonder if you will get sick from the bacteria and germs that have multiplied in the heat and sun. Then you remember the afternoon bus ride, the little boy who sat on his father’s knee beside you, coughing and hacking into your breathing space, while the river of sweat from his father’s arm mixed with the spittle of the little guy to settle onto your face. You realize where you are and truly how lucky you are to live in a country with paved roads. You smile and think of Asran and realize that this is daily life for people here in Nepal so be thankful for small blessings. (At least we have clean water even if we need to use a bucket.)