Rachel in Nepal 3
in the early dark of the morning,
an app on the phone announces
our grandchild is calling from Nepal!
where she is hard at work handwashing her clothes
and readying them to line dry,
she's into the rhythm,
and the clothes need the washing,
due to landslides from the recent monsoon,
the six hour drive back from their recent excursion took thirty hours,
the gridlock common enough for folks to relax into playing
with the time released back to them,
nothing like the rage of frustration common in the U.S.,
her group had left the tumult of Kathmandu
for the wonders of a national park,
in the jungle world of Nepal's lowlands,
her whole self bubbles over the phone
about the animals there: elephants, crocodiles,
incredible butterflies, moths,
on land not carried toward the sky in the plate collision
that still slowly unfolds, reaching to keep up with Everest,
diversity shouts its worth to her,
from the variations in physical terrain,
to the animals so different from those of North America:
the ubiquitous monkeys, to being allowed to climb up onto a magnificent elephant,
to the varied religions that coexist and make me think of an old Hindu story
that God is a mountain and each religion a different path up it,
these people have customs that are worth the immersion,
including the physical challenge of the hard work
the women do every day
because the chores need doing,
Nepali challenges her
and she works hard to express, to understand,
to think as the people there do,
a little one captured her heart last week,
those interactions less complicated
than much of what is now stretching her,
a relationship she could relax into,
the baby's eyes and smile direct and universal,
even inspiring a pun from her in Nepali,
resulting in exuberant belly laughs,
Rachel is discovering many paths that she has not known before,
and the truths of the mountains upon which she walks thrill her.
by Henry H. Walker
September 22, ‘25
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