Prayers for Nepal

It's been one week since the earthquake that killed thousands in Nepal. My heart broke for them as I cried and prayed. All of my friends are okay, but I find it hard to rejoice in that, when I know that thousands of other people died. So far the count is close to 7,000 and it is still rising.

Most of these thousands who died weren't Christians. We know this because way less than 1% of the population are Christians. Most are Hindu or Buddhist, a small percentage is Muslim. So besides a handful of people who might have heard of Jesus before, the rest of the thousands all died without knowing Jesus, some without even hearing his name.

And I can't peacefully drink my coffee or wash dishes or go for a walk without feeling the weight of all of those lives lost. I wish I was there, finding people, saving people, sharing with them the good news.

I think of all of the people I saw - the old man spinning his prayer wheel, the little girl who held my hand as we ran through her village, the sweet family who we stayed with in Tukche. Are they alive? Did they know?

Things like this happen all the time. Earthquakes and tornados and hurricanes. But it's never affected me because I never had a connection there. I spent a whole month last year, living with Nepalis, learning their language and culture. To know that some of them are gone breaks my heart. To know that most of them never knew Jesus breaks my heart even more.

What can I do before the next disaster? Before more people die without knowing. Before the next murder or the next child sold into sex slavery. What can I do to save these people before it is too late?

My heart hurts as people speed by me, drinking their Starbucks, bluetooth in their ear. What can I do before the next car accident, before the next divorce, before the next death.

I feel the urgency of spreading the gospel more than ever before. Everything within me wishes I was in Nepal, but commitments and college debt have tied me down for the time being. I can't wait until the time when God sends me and uses me to reach the unreached, to share the good news before it's too late. To love the locals before, after, and maybe even during the next natural disaster.

But until then, I'll pray. I'll pray with the urgency I feel that more lives will be saved. That those who survived the earthquake will find food and shelter and water. I'll pray for workers who can go now - that God uses them in amazing ways.

And I ask you to join with me in prayer. I'll share some pictures of my time in Nepal. Pray for them, pray for their villages. Pray for all of the unreached.

This morning as I write this post, this is the most recent news report. The video and pictures are heartbreaking. Click here to watch and read.

Nepal - Dadhuwa

We left the busy, adventurous, touristy city of Pokhara early one morning, with fresh bananas and lychees in hand to snack on on the way. After hours of speeding through rough mountain roads, we arrived in a village totally opposite of our last week. Dadhuwa was slow and simple, and we were the only foreigners around.

We stayed in the community center, built a few years ago by members of our team, and were hosted by the most beautiful local woman, who we affectionately called Didi, which means "big sister" in Nepali. She cooked us two meals a day - daal bhat for lunch and daal bhat for dinner. Daal, which means "beans", and bhat, which means "rice", was a plate of white rice and a bowl of bean soup. You pour the soup over the rice and eat it with your hand. The first time I tried it, I think most of the daal bhat landed in my lap, not in my mouth. It's definitely an art, and I am proud to say that by the end of my two month trip in Asia, I had it mastered. In the early morning, and in the afternoon, she would serve us hot tea. Even though it was over 100 degrees outside, we would never pass up a cup of Didi's tea. I still crave it, hot and milky and so spicy.

This was the most simple village that we were at. There was limited electricity and I went a whole week without showering (thank God for baby wipes and lots of deodorant). We slept in bunks underneath mosquito nets, and here's the best part - no toilets. We used a "squatty potty", which was a hole in the ground, with ridges to put your feet in, and a bucket of water nearby to "flush" with. The people don't use toilet paper (that's what your left hand is for!) but we brought some to spoil ourselves. It's really not as bad as it seems, but it did make me gain an appreciation for Western toilets.

The people here were such hard workers. They were awake early - I saw them up by 4am every day and went to bed late - after dinner, which was usually at 8pm if not later. I often saw women carrying heavy containers of water in baskets which were secured around the head. Inspired by the work ethic we saw all around us, the team and I carried firewood up a hill to bless the widows of the town. I was way too weak to carry a whole bundle, so I picked up the stray pieces of wood that fell out of the other bundles. Even just carrying a stack in my arms was such hard work. Blame it on the altitude or the hot weather, but I give major kudos to all those who live and work in Dadhuwa.

The days were so hot. Even in the early mornings, sweat would be dripping down our arms as we prayed for a breeze. There was no relief. The nights were so cold, the coldest out of all the villages we stayed at (except for Jomsom - Jomsom wins for coldest, but that was thankfully only one night). We lived right across from a sheep pen, right next to chicken pens, and on the road where cattle and goats often were herded by. Needless to say, there was never a quiet moment. One afternoon, the sky went dark and we experienced the loudest thunderstorm. My roommate, who slept in the bunk directly beneath me, was shouting something, but I could not understand a single word. The rain on the tin roof, the thunder echoing through the village, the wind forcing the windows open with loud crashes, and the lightning lighting up the whole room. It was humbling and drew my thoughts to the Creator.

I think most of my Nepal stories come from our stay in Dadhuwa. From Didi's famous tea to the struggles of the squatty potty to the children we fell in love with. I can't write a post about Dadhuwa without mentioning the beauty of it. There was the most spectacular view of the mountains, the brightest stars, and so many different types of trees that it made me want to take another biology class (hear that, Dr. Guevin? Teach me more about tree recognition!). I loved this week so much - the simplicity won me over.

Nepal - Pokhara

Leaving Tukche, we hiked several hours north to the city of Jomsom, where we spent one night in order to fly out early the next morning. My roommate and I were already itching to explore so as soon as we signed into our guest house, we dropped our bags, changed out of our hiking boots, put bandages on our blisters, and left to walk the village streets.

The locals were definitely more used to foreigners, probably because Jomsom has the only airport nearby. There were several souvenir shops and restaurants, but we barely had time to look around before eating dinner and going to bed (although I didn't do much sleeping - the room was freezing, even after layering with several pairs of pants, my heaviest jacket, and two pairs of wool socks). Our flight left early the next morning, but I do wish we had had more time to explore and take pictures. It really was a beautiful town, perched high in the mountains.

We landed in Pokhara less than twenty minutes later - the shortest flight I've ever been on. For that whole week, we chilled at a beautiful Americanized guest house. The streets were filled with souvenir shops and restaurants that boasted of having American cuisine. I became very familiar with Pokhara, often taking walks to nearby cafes or buying fruit from one of the many fruit stands.

Because this city is so touristy, we had a lot of opportunities to do fun things. On Wednesday we went white water rafting, a first-time thing for me, which is a big deal because I don't know how to swim. I was so afraid I'd fall out and be sucked down the river or under the raft or into the rocks. At the end of it, not only did I not fall out, but I had such a great time. I credit all of the fun to our awesome rafting guide, who was so quirky that he made us laugh the entire time.

The next day a group of us went paragliding. I'm sure paragliding in general is a thrill, but paragliding throughout the Annapurna mountain range, with barely a cloud in the sky, and beautiful birds flying all around you, was breath-taking. I felt so small, and that's a good thing. I could not stop praising God for his beautiful creation - the huge mountains right next to me and the "tiny" trees below me.

Even though Pokhara is one of the largest cities in Nepal, there is still so much nature all around. The Annapurna range, which is a group of mountains belonging to the Himalayas, could be seen clearly from the balcony of our hotel, where I often hung out to read. My favorite was Mount Machhapurchhre, which literally means "fish tail" in English. The city was home to so many different types of trees, parks, and a huge lake just down the street from where we stayed. Any direction you turned, you could see at least five different birds flying around. Nepal definitely turned me into a bird-lover.

The people! I had figured that since this was a touristy town, everyone would be used to - and probably annoyed by - the many foreigners who walked their streets. But I have never met more friendly people. They were curious about us, where we were from, what we were doing there. One of my favorite memories is when my roommate and I took a boat out to one of the temples, talking to one of the locals the whole ride about everything from where he grew up to his views on Nepali politics. These people wanted us to learn about them. They taught us more Nepali phrases then I can even remember and they loved sharing their culture. I felt privileged to be there.

I realized only after we left this city that I barely took any pictures. I took that week as a time to relax, become familiar with the culture, build relationships, read, write, think, and learn. So I apologize for the lack of pictures that honestly do not give the beauty of Pokhara any justice at all.

Nepal - Tukche

Arriving in Nepal after a couple days of travel, we were immediately thrown into even more traveling. A 6 hour bumpy ride in the back of a friend's SUV through the pitch-black, curvy roads, led us to the city of Pokhara, where we spent less than 12 hours in order to quickly sleep and eat. The next morning, we immediately took a 12 hour bus ride on the edge of a mountain to the village of Tukche.

The mountain roads were barely big enough for our bus, sometimes just wide enough for the four wheels to fit before the road fell off into a cliff of rocks and trees. At times, I would look out the window and not be able to see any road underneath us at all. The fear factor didn't bother me, but after about the ninth hour of being jostled around, I was definitely done with the bus. I left with my ribs still rattling and bruises on my hips, sides, thighs, and even my head from being thrown against the sides of the bus while going over bumps.

For the next week, a group of friends and I hiked into surrounding villages about 1-2 hours away. We returned every evening to the same guest house in Tukche. I was able to explore a little bit and found Tukche to be a quiet, slow town with very friendly people and no other foreigners in sight.

The sun rose early. We'd wake up at 5am to find that the sun had already been up and shining for who knows how long. By the time we came back from the surrounding villages around 5pm, the sky was already dimming drastically. The nights were cold. I had forgotten to pack my hat, which I had planned to use while sleeping, so I had to sleep cocooned under the blankets with not even a hair sticking out, leading to many restless nights. The days were hot. I sat out on the roof to read for a few minutes before breakfast and came inside with a fresh sunburn.

Out of all the places we visited, I still think that Tukche was the most beautiful. Surrounded completely by mountains. Everywhere you turned, there were beautiful views of river beds, farms, valleys, snowcapped mountains. It's a humbling and beautiful thing to wake up to the Himalayan mountains outside of your bedroom window. It is even more humbling and more beautiful to walk through the dusty mountain paths, touching the trees, hearing the exotic birds, and watching the locals go about their day. Definitely the most beautiful place I've ever been.