You have to imagine, we're in a little hotel where the stray dogs keep you awake all night. Where the water is so yellow that you really can't see whether you've flushed the toilet or not. And where the electricity goes out so often that you feel like you're standing under a strobe light in a nightclub.
Heavy, dusty, and emotional day
And then in the morning, you just get ready to face yet another immensely beautiful, heavy, dusty, and emotional day. First, we have to buy supplies for the picnics at the Dalit village and the Indrapur school. Bargaining at the market for 12 cauliflowers, 240 eggs, and I-don't-know-how-many kilograms of rice and dahl. Then, we visit a sick son of one of our teachers, and the whole village comes out again to see those special white people.
As a Dalit, you have no chance at all
And then off to the Dalit village for one of the most beautiful days of our lives. Imagine, as a Dalit, you are completely hopeless in Nepal and India. You are an outcast who is not allowed to go anywhere, who cannot be involved in anything. Your parents are illiterate, you barely have a shirt on your back, and you sleep on the ground in a mud hut. Fortunately, Arbind has managed to have a school building built there, and now we are trying to generate enough money to turn it into a real school.
Exhausted, emotional, but very satisfied.
But today, we weren't there for classes, but to give the kids an unforgettable day. So, a delicious lunch, taking silly photos with those weird Dutch people, dancing with us to the Bird Dance and Snollebollekes, letting Rob fool you, and scribbling all over the school building with Keeley. What a fantastic afternoon we had. The visit, with the mayor, to a possible maternity clinic was actually nothing. Tonight, exhausted, emotional, but very satisfied, we looked back on a beautiful day. I hope the photos and videos somewhat reflect this day.
