Selfless

Expressing the beauty I have witnessed in the Nepalese people is near impossible because it is not the words they speak, but the way they speak them. It is not what they do, but how they do it. When I watched the young boy who welcomed us into his home offer the last bite of his egg to his brother before taking it for himself, I felt like I understood his values. He and his family warmly embraced foreigners into their home and shared food, stories, and smiles which gave me further insight into the culture of Nepal. Even though the home shared by four people occupied a space barely the size of my bedroom, the people in it wanted to give us everything they had.  The mother kindly cooked us eggs and offered us a traditional dish called Kurd. The family struggles every day to purchase enough food to survive, and even so, they were willing to share their hard earned necessities with strangers.

This family and this country is made up of people who are wise and generous. They share all that they have, even when it is most precious.

An amazing woman who has been helping to guide us around the city of Bhaktapur shared with us one of the most important moments she will ever experience. Samriddhi invited the entire Children’s Global Alliance team to her brother’s wedding. She spent the entire evening showing us around the incredible event. She took time out of her life during such an important moment to share it with others. She demonstrated the level of selflessness which exists throughout Nepal. Samriddhi waited until we arrived and ate dinner with us, she spent this monumental experience catering to the needs of people she has known less than a week. This wedding was an arranged marriage and an opportunity for all of the family members to get to know each other. When we were introduced to the bride she offered us hazel nuts to represent the relationship we formed and its ability to grow. We each got 4 nuts because we didn’t know the bride, but the stronger the relationship was, the more people were offered. This was a very impactful symbol to me because it made me realize that it is not the social status or appearance of guests that makes them more important, it is truly the bonds which exist between people.  All of the guests at the wedding were very friendly and welcoming of a group of people so different from them. They were not judgmental of our group and made me feel like I belonged everywhere I went.  

The people of Nepal have deepened my understanding that no matter how little you might have, you can always share it with others. I will carry these lessons with me always. When I have guests in my home I will work to make them feel as comfortable and cared for as the families in Nepal have made me feel. Like Samriddhi, I will try to share the most special moments with others because everyone deserves to experience life’s greatest events.

Autotrophic

I stand at the front of a classroom of twenty five 11-year olds and their confusion is evident to me through their furrowed brows and turned up lips. I remind myself not to panic, remember that autotrophic is a big word, English is a hard language, and my accent is one they very rarely hear. I smile and ask the question in a more simple way, “Class 4, do plants have mouths?” Their perplexion turns to giggles as they deny my rather silly question. Feeling more relieved, I explain that because plants don’t have mouths, they cannot eat food and must make their own. This characteristic is why plants are classified as autotrophic. While all animals (and fungi) need to eat other organisms in order survive, and are classified as heterotrophic. As class 4 came to understand these words, they began to mean something deeper to me.

Learning about life in a classroom is easy. You are told the things you need to have in order to survive- things like food. But learning about life outside of the classroom is harder because you have to figure it out for yourself. I have discovered that happiness is most essential to my personal survival. The students I am teaching and learning from in Nepal are like the autotrophic organisms. They make their own happiness, even in the most challenging circumstances. The natural disaster that shook all of Bhaktapur in 2015 has left the city broken. Bricks on the ground are uneven, homes lay crumbled on streets, and buildings remained cracked. The children do not look at the reminders of the earthquake and feel terrified or upset by the past. Instead, they embrace the moments we have right now. They use remnants from destroyed buildings as nets in table tennis. They play musical chairs with bricks that once supported a building. The students are excited to dig through piles of structure remains to pick up trash with us. These children live in the present in a way I have never seen before, because they know more than anyone how much can be destroyed in a single instant.

I want to stray away from the heterotrophic way of life, where I depend on outside sources to fuel my joy. In the past I have found myself relying on objects or other people’s actions to satisfy me. The way of life in Nepal has shown me that this is insufficient; I have been shown that only I have control over the way I am feeling. I have been inspired to search for joy, not because of the things I have, but because of the moments I am in. Every moment in life is worth being present for and worth truly living in. I want to strive to be like my friends here in Nepal. Rather than simply existing, I have been inspired to become more aware of my surroundings and search for joy in every crack of this earth. I want to be like an autotrophic organism that can thrive in even the harshest environments.

Reducing Poverty

As of 2017, 1 billion children live in poverty and 22,000 die annually because of their conditions. Every day, almost 2,000 children die from diseases linked to unsafe water and lack of basic sanitation. More than 100 million children under age 5 are undernourished and underweight, which contributes to 45 percent of all infant deaths.

And behind every statistic is a person. An individual with value and potential, with feelings and aspirations, a person that deserves more than they have been granted. I know because I have seen it; I have looked into the eyes of a starving boy and felt bone much too close to skin on a little girl’s hand. The effects of poverty are all too real and widespread, but actions can be taken to aide in its termination.

Increased access to education would contribute to reducing poverty. An understanding of basic skills such as reading, writing, and simple math will give children more opportunities in life. Some of these opportunities include better employment, better health, and potentially the ability to participate in the political process. Additionally, education can help save lives. It has the potential to prevent maternal and infant mortality by helping women recognize danger signs, seek care and make sure health workers are present at births. Educated women statistically have less children, which increases the likelihood the family will be able to provide for all members. Increased understanding of health and sanitation will help people prevent themselves and their families against illnesses. The most promising thing about increased access to learning, though, is that it can end entire cycles of poverty. Because of the way our economic systems operate, those who are born poor tend to stay poor their whole lives. Through the exploitation of an education system, any individual has the potential to study and work their way out of impoverishment. This will not only have positive impacts on that individual, but also their family as well. Children of educated parents are more likely to become educated themselves. Therefore that one individual who worked their way out of poverty broke the cycle for their whole family.

In Nepal, I will be working to provide impoverished children with a quality education that will be helpful to breaking the cycle of poverty for their families. This is why it is so important for me to be prepared to teach any lesson to the best of my ability because the work I am doing truly has the potential to impact the students lives and possibly even the lives of their children.

Indestructible

I had always felt indestructible. Life was routine and comfortable. I would wake up on the same mat every morning, get dressed in one of my few outfits, and go to school at the same place surrounded by the same kids. Then I would come home and help my father cut stone until nightfall, when my two younger sisters and I would aid my mother in her gracious efforts to put delicious food on the table. Day after day, year after year, my life was predictable and I felt secure. But in a single instant, everything vanished and I realized how wrong I had assumed this life would be lived.

I was on my way home from the market when the ground began to shake beneath my feet and I was slammed head-first against the street. I don’t remember hitting the ground or hearing the buildings crash around me. All I remember is waking up hours later, feeling pain on every inch of my body. The impact of the cement had knocked me out and the debris from surrounding buildings had crashed onto my legs and back. The pain in my body was familiar and the pounding in my head was bearable. It was the ache in my heart told me that this injury was unlike any other I had experienced. Where is my family? My heart felt empty. My body knew something my brain didn’t want to accept.

I struggled to my feet but once I was on them I broke out into a full sprint. It was loud at first, but with each stride the sirens became quieter and the screams seemed more distant. I ran faster than I have ever run for almost a mile until I rounded the corner where my house once stood. The edges of my vision were black from all the physical exertion and I could hardly hear over the pounding of my own heart. The mass of bricks and rubble that used to stand as a home, sucked the remaining air from my weakening lungs. It took every ounce of my strength to refrain from collapsing with the rest of the world.

I swallowed my tears and all emotions with them. I had to find my family- no fear, no pain, no heartbreak- only courage. Searching so desperately for any sign of life, I began moving bricks aside and lifting the panels that used to function as our roof. After thirty seconds that felt like eternity, absolutely nothing stood out. But when I saw it, I wished I hadn’t. I wanted to wake up from this nightmare. This couldn’t be happening, not to them, not to me. Her purple hand stuck out under the mass of wall remains. I paused and thought the emotions were going to take over again, but only for a moment before I shut them out. Continuing was my only option; I shoved everything off of my baby sister and didn’t allow myself to feel anything when I realized she wasn’t alone. On her right side was my other sister and in front of her my mother. In that moment I didn't want to process it. Continue, continue I told myself. I had to find my father. I scoured every inch around my mother and sisters, but to no avail. It was only when I retraced my steps to where I had entered the home that I found him. I didn't recognize it the first time because I wasn't looking for body so close to undamaged ground and he had been completely covered by the rubble from our door and window.

I snapped. It was like waking up all over again. My senses returned all at once and the stench of destruction filled my lungs. The sirens which I had been able to block out were now blaring and screams ripped through the streets. My vision was blurry and my body felt as if were made of stone. I couldn’t move anymore. Where would I even go? I felt jealous of my family because they were all together. I was forever alone. My father was so close to the door. Why didn’t he make it? Why couldn’t they have been outside when it started? Who controls these things? If they were in a different room, would they have made it? If I didn’t fall could I have saved them? What if I left for the market 10 minutes earlier? Or 10 minutes later?

These are things I will never know or have the power to understand, but I know that each moment is worth enjoying because nothing in this world is guaranteed and no one is indestructible.

This anecdote was written from the perspective of a boy living in Nepal during the earthquakes in April of 2015. When researching this country the most surprising information to me was how devastating these earthquakes really were. I remember reading about them online and hearing stories in the news, but it wasn't until I dug deeper into my research that I was able to understand the effects this disaster had on the country and all of its citizens.

A powerful earthquake struck in the morning of morning of April 25 2015, between the capital city of Kathmandu and another city, Pokhara.The earthquake had a magnitude of 7.8 - which means it was very strong - and tremors could even be felt in the nearby countries of Pakistan, Bangladesh and India. A second strong earthquake with a magnitude 7.3, hit eastern Nepal, near Mount Everest on 12 May 2015. More than 100 people were killed and thousands more injured. Many of the country's historic sites were severely damaged, including temples and monuments. Cumulatively almost 9,000 people died while 22,000 people were injured.

Even though statistically these earthquakes directly impacted 31,000 citizens, in reality each and every person in Nepal has been impacted by this natural disaster. Over 800,000 buildings were destroyed and the rebuilding process is very difficult because Nepal remains one of the poorest countries in the world. The overall damage is estimated to be at about $10 billion, according to the Nepal government. This number is hard for me to comprehend but in perspective it is nearly half of Nepal’s gross domestic product (GDP) of $19.2 billion. Prior to the earthquakes Nepal was set on a good track of moving from a “less developed country” to a “developing country” though theses disasters served as huge setbacks and forced the government to invest money into reconstruction rather than further developments.

My understanding of the devastation which still surrounds this country has helped me understand what kind of impact I will be striving for this summer. I want to ignite hope in the hearts of those I will be surrounded by and in order to do that I need to be able to create relationships with the students that are a good balance of professional and personal. In the past, I have struggled to become extremely close to the students in a classroom setting because it was always more important to me that they understood the material rather than feel a friendship.  Now I know that if a loving bond is created, in or out of the classroom, the eagerness both for me to teach and them to learn will prosper. Further, the students whose families and world’s have been impacted by this recent devastation, can understand that they are not alone in their struggle to recover and there are people everywhere who want them to succeed and are willing to put in the effort to help it happen.

This goal is very important to me because over the past summer and fall semester I feel like I have gained the maturity to become more open to new and different forms of relationships, without the fear of getting too close. I used to be afraid to open up to others and allow them to do the same to me because I didn't want to have the power to hurt anyone nor let them have the power to hurt me. This year, I have learned that if I don't open up to others, I am hurting myself and them little bits at a time. I now know that it does not make a person weak to become vulnerable with others. I believe this newfound truth will allow me to create stronger friendships with the students I will be teaching and they can more deeply understand how much I care about not just their learning, but their well-being.

My Teams

As the fall semester of my junior year is coming to a close, I am beginning to narrow down the list of colleges I would like to apply to. With this, comes other decisions like what I want to study, how many people I wish to be surrounded by, which part of the country or world I would like to live, and what I'm eventually going to pursue as a career. I don't have a definite answer to any of those questions, though there is one thing I know; I need to be a part of a team.

Vail Valley Soccer Club and Vail Mountaineer Hockey Club have exposed me to people from all over the valley because they are combinations of players from every school in the county. I am grateful for this exposure because it has given me the chance to meet some of my best friends. Playing soccer at the high school level allowed me to get closer to the girls in other classes. Then, joining the Battle Mountain High School Hockey team allowed me to spend more time with boys. I have met amazing people through each of these teams and all of my closest friends play soccer or hockey with me.

This year, I joined Eagle Valley High School’s cross country team. The runners at our school were people I hadn't spent much time with. Though after the season ended last week, I had a whole new group of friends that I never would've made without the sport.

Each group that travels with Children's Global Alliance is a team too. The teams I've been a part of with CGA have been diverse groups of kids who all have different things to teach me. Through this program I have met some of the best student leaders in the valley. The kids I've traveled with have inspired me to adopt some of their characteristics such as strength and compassion, in order to be a better version of myself.

The most important team in my life is my family.  I have a family which is fully supportive of me in every aspect of my life. I am lucky enough to have my brother on my team at home and at hockey. Over the past year we have gotten much closer and I am thankful to have him around to protect and encourage me. My mom and dad are very loving and the hardest workers I know. I understand how fortunate I am to have such a great examples set by my family members.

There is something special shared between teammates. When you get a group of people together who depend on one another to reach a desired goal, a bond is created that doesn't exist between most friends. Having teammates has allowed me to create the strongest bonds.

This summer I will be given the opportunity to be a part of a new team with Children's Global Alliance; Team Nepal. My teammates and I will be traveling to Bhaktapur and teaching kids from preschool through grade 6. I am excited about this team because I can tell it is full of of students who are eager and passionate about making a difference. So far, this team has been the most timely and dedicated one I have been on with CGA. Along with teaching, we will participate in home visits and help aid in efforts to recover from the 2015 earthquake. The opportunity to complete manual labor was a major factor in my choice to apply to Nepal. I love to help the kids mentally in the classroom, but I am also appreciative of the chance to contribute to the betterment of their physical condition. In order to participate in this trip I must raise $2,600. I plan to save all the money I make working at The Beaver Creek Market and babysit more frequently. I am grateful for another chance to see a new part of the world and gain more understanding about the tiny part I live in. Additionally, I am ready to give love to every individual I have the opportunity to work with. I am excited to give all I have to the children in Nepal.

Live and Let Live

The first year I traveled with Children’s Global Alliance, I was asked on many occasions what inspired me to volunteer. I would tell people I had a strong desire to help others, and along the way, I was trying to find myself. In the two years since my initial trip, I have learned I was never really “finding myself”. Instead, I have been working to create myself.

Growing up in the Vail Valley, I was seldomly exposed to poverty. Reading about poor countries in textbooks, and seeing them in the news, could not come close to the understanding I received staring into the eyes of a starving boy. Similarly, the situations I put myself in at home have not pushed me to shape my personality as quickly or as deeply as experiencing how people live in other countries.

The families I have had the opportunity to visit in Morocco have taught me about acceptance. A young student, Fatima, kindly welcomed us into her home. After hearing countless stereotypes about Muslims in the United States, I was curious about how people in Morocco would feel about Americans. Fatima’s mother told me she thought Americans were no different from her. She told us, it does not matter what language you speak, what color your skin is, or which people you love. Fatima’s mother accepted others without judging them. She focused only on being a good person herself and allowed others to do what made them happy without any discrimination.

Of course, I have met others who have told me they do not discriminate, but Fatima’s mother was different. Listening to the powerful tone she used to speak and watching her dark eyes become so focused and set in their place helped me understand, this woman truly believed each word she was saying. This impacted me in a way I could not even comprehend at the time. After reflecting upon her wise words, I realized a level of acceptance exists here that does not exist at home.

At the school we teach, the children not only accept foreigners, they accept each other and themselves. In the United States, we would not readily accept anyone into our classroom, especially not anyone from a Muslim country. Alternatively, here the children welcomed every new teacher with open arms and open minds. Watching the children play helped me realize each individual is valued. The kids have friends that they spend time with often. Although, they have their own group of friends, no group acts superior to another. When playing games, every person is invited. Even though the kids are different, they all have the same mindset. To me, it seems this mindset is based on the idea that before we judge others, we must judge ourselves. In the Moroccan culture, people have grown accustom to focusing on improving themselves, not changing others.

As I am working to continue becoming the person I want to be, I am going to integrate the acceptance I have experienced in Morocco. I plan on getting to know each person I meet before assuming who they are. When I meet people who are different from me, I will remember those I have met in the past two weeks and attempt to embrace the differences, as my Moroccan friends have taught me.

"America the Brave Still Fears What We Don't Know"

Everything in our world is separated into groups. Movies, books and music are categorized by genres, stars are grouped into galaxies and people are grouped based on their prominent characteristics. Each group is analyzed and then labeled. In high school, the football players are labeled cool, while the cheerleaders and dancers are pretty and the kids who enjoy learning are nerds. Whether your label is justified or not, each person and each group has more value than a single word can express.

In the United States, I became aware that each person in the Muslim group has the label of a terrorist. Many of my teachers only explained the few violent practices of the Muslim culture and failed to express how beautiful and empowering their deep devotion to themselves, their families and their God truly is. My peers have honestly felt threatened in the presence of a Muslim individual. Millions of hate-crimes have been committed against those peaceful people. I saw a woman in the airport refuse to board a plane simply because a Muslim family was also on the flight. The idea that everyone in the Muslim culture has terrible intentions is heartbreaking, angering and nowhere close to the truth.

In the class I have been teaching, the students have welcomed me and expressed great amounts of love to everyone in the room.  A very intelligent boy who sits in the back of the class, named Zaki is filled with so much compassion and love it is inspiring. Zaki is always excited to learn and is very close to being fluent in English. Every time we learn a new subject, Zaki absorbs the information quickly and then helps his friends understand too. Zaki is patient and humble, he never acts as though he is superior and he helps others simply out of kindness. Zaki explained to me, it is his dream to travel to New York. He aspires to become fluent in English and do any work that will help him get to the United States. Zaki has ambitious goals and in many ways I want to help him reach the. I hope that Zaki gets the opportunity to see the New York City lights at night. I want him to be able to swim in the deep oceans and summit high Rocky Mountain peaks. I think Zaki deserves the opportunity to be surrounded by people who speak the language he has been working so hard to learn. I believe Zaki would love to experience all of the amazing opportunities presented in the U.S, although, if he ever were to go, I would fear for his well-being. Since Zaki is from a Muslim country, he would have great difficulties even entering the United States. Then, in the country Zaki or any other Muslim individual would be hated and feared. He would not be given equal opportunity because he is labeled a “terrorist.” This reality confuses me beyond words. How could you possibly look at a child like Zaki and call them such a malicious word? The idea that Americans could see Zaki and hate him without ever giving him a chance breaks my heart.

I think that the only way this irrational fear will cease to exist is if Americans decide to become more open-minded. People would have to stop just saying they are not racist and truly attempt to understand others before making any judgments or assumptions.  I hope someday Americans will have the courage and the wisdom to look beyond the label of terrorist and accept Muslims as an equal and beautiful group.

Kebda

In Morocco, I have been welcomed into homes filled with love. The people inside have taught me not only about their own lives, but about my life as well. They have explained that nothing would be possible without their kebdas. Kebdas bring love, happiness, support, and purpose to life. In Moroccan Arabic, kebda literally means liver, but the word is also used to refer to your family. It is not possible to function if your liver is absent; similarly, many people in Morocco believe it would not be possible to function without their families.

            It is common to live near your family for the entirety of your life. In Morocco, home is not a building or a town; home is where your family is. This idea was foreign to me.  In the United States the majority of people move away from home at 18 years old, and many never look back. This custom has never seemed abnormal or wrong to me, because it is all I have ever known. Although now, being exposed to families with so much long-lasting love, I cannot imagine wanting to leave forever. A young girl, Fatima-Zahara, allowed me to visit her home. She explained to me, many people want to live near their parents because God has given them parents that make them feel lucky. Fatima-Zahara; who lives in a one-room home with her Mother and Grandmother; who has small amounts of food and water; who owns three pairs of clothes; feels lucky.  She is thankful to her mother for working, for cooking, for cleaning, for loving, and for trying. Seeing Fatima-Zahara be grateful for so little has made me even more grateful for so much. My kebda and ones I have been exposed to are so special because they are comprised of people you can depend on. Children know that their parents will work extremely hard to buy food and water, provide them with education, and keep a roof over their heads.  They put this effort in because they love their children and want the best for them. Children in Morocco are wise and understand their parents’ intentions. This understanding and love keeps the children close to their parents for decades when parents in Morocco become elderly, it is always their children who come to their aid.

            This tradition seems natural to me and I want to take part in it. My parents have already started to follow the tradition and have provided me with so much care. I have been given a wonderful home and have always been blessed with copious amounts of food and water. More importantly, my parents have shown me what love looks like. They have shown me I have importance and should not allow myself to be treated otherwise. They help me up when I fall and teach me how to stay on my feet. I am so thankful for each lesson I have learned and feel like it is right to do my part in the tradition. I will remember that as I age, they age too. Even if I get less dependent on them for basic needs, they may become more dependent on others as they get old. I want to be there for my parents just like Fatima-Zahara and countless other children in Morocco. Even though it is less common in the United States, I hope I can stay close to my kebda for many years.