Dear friends,
I knew when I left for Nepal that I was not just going to enlighten the Nepali people, but that they would likely teach me more than I have to offer them. As I continue learning the language and building relationships with Nepalis, I find them teaching me a great deal already. My understanding of hospitality has gone much deeper through time spent with my Nepali friends. Like many places around the world, I find the hospitality I experience puts our hospitality in the U.S. to shame (except my mom’s; she doesn’t let a visitor leave her home uncared-for).
The other day several of us rented motorcycles and made our way to the rolling hills that surround the Kathmandu valley. We stopped at the botanical gardens, bought a couple snacks and sat down to enjoy the surroundings, far from the pollution of our beloved city. Not long after we had finished a bag of chips and a bottle of coke, a large family sat down next to us. Soon we had struck up a conversation, using our growing vocabulary to exchange pleasantries. And then the mother of the family told us we would be sharing their food. She handed me a bottle of water, told me to wash my hands and get ready to eat. We politely refused and told her we had better get going. She said, “Sit. Sit. Sit. Sit. You can leave after you eat.” She would not allow us to leave without a meal. So, we sat back down and enjoyed the meal of beaten rice, potato curry, and other side dishes, along with big bottles of beer (for those not driving, of course). The incredible hospitality of these strangers amazed us, as we agreed that this would never happen where we came from.
I think what is most striking about the hospitality of this people is that it tends to be even greater among those who have less material wealth. I spontaneously decided to accompany my friend and coworker, Top, and his family to the village he grew up in. About a 12 hour bus ride away from Kathmandu, I found myself sitting in a mud hut, eating bananas off the tree and rabbits killed by children with sling shots earlier in the day. But I was not sitting on the floor. That would be unacceptable. The guest always receives something to sit on, whether it is a stool or a thin mat. During meals I would politely refuse their persistent attempts to pile my plate high with rice. And if I wasn’t careful, grandma would pile it on despite my common reply, “pugyo” (“enough”). When going to the bathroom in the forest, bathing in the stream, or washing my clothes, I was consistently asked if I had everything I needed, or if I needed any help. One time, on my way to bed, Top asked if he and his wife, Shakuntale, should also come to bed. No one would want the guest to have to go to bed by himself while others stayed up to talk. This, though, I adamantly refused. And when I was sick with a fever one night, I found Nepalis surrounding my bed eager to care for me, or just be there to show love and act if a need arises.
To the American perspective, this kind of hospitality can seem a bit overboard, even ridiculous. Believe me, I found it a struggle at times to accept this hospitality. Though I am not calling for us to take on this intense style of hospitality, I do think we can learn a great deal from it. We can learn to better welcome our guests, and better care for the stranger. If we practiced a better hospitality, maybe we wouldn’t be so suspicious if a stranger offered us a meal. Maybe we would find ourselves better connected with those around us. In our country where loneliness, depression, and suicide have soaring rates, a think a little more hospitality can go a long way.
Thank you friends, for continuing to walk and learn with me. Thank you for your support and prayers as I continue to build a home here, learn the language and grow into the role God has for me here. Please continue praying for our community as we seek God’s guidance in the days to come.
peace and love,