Filmmakers Janelle Eagle and Patricia Ramsey are traveling with The Unatti Foundation.
While traveling with the founder, Stephanie Waisler, these two artists will meet the girls living at the Unatti Home in Bakhtapur, Nepal. They will engage in a theatrical workshop, mural painting with artist Clinton Bopp, and film the incredible connection made between children in Los Angeles and their friends living across the world.When Patty and I wake up in the morning, we quickly eat breakfast and walk through the ancient city of Bhaktapur. The streets and buildings are red brick, wood carvings, stone carvings, and the alleyways are small. There is a light haze that is refreshingly chilly, but burns off as soon as the sun peaks its head over the Himalayas. It is with that morning sunshine that we walk down a hill to the Unatti Home, past the buffalos and chickens, and along a panoramic view that is breathtaking.
Post borrowed from www.unatti.blogspot.com by Janelle Eagle
Ocotber 13 Bhaktapur, Nepal
When we arrive at the orphanage, the 13 girls run shoeless down the five flights of stairs yelling “Sister! Sister!” and attack us with hugs and kisses when we meet in the middle. Every appendage that is not occupied is grabbed by the hands of the Unatti girls and we are lead upstairs into the long Dining room. We sit on mats at the floor, giggle, practice language (they teach me Nepalese and I teach them English), and wait for breakfast.
The house mothers bring in large metal plates that are full of the same four ingredients each meal: Rice, Lentil Puree, Vegetable, and Pickle Veggies. This infamous dish is called “Dal, Bhat, Tarkari, Achar.” There are no utensils, and only one hand can be used to feed yourself because the left is historically used to wipe in the restroom. Perfecting the “mix and scoop” takes a meal or two, but soon you ignore the thoughts in your held that tell you this is unsanitary.
Once breakfast is finished, it is time for the girls to run to the roof, brush their teeth, rinse their hair and put on their school uniforms. All this is done while taking for granted the 360 degree view of Bhaktapur that surrounds them. It is hard to focus on the view, I’m sure; as the water is not heated and they sometimes get headaches from the sudden burst of cold on their bodies.
Thirteen girls run back down the stairs armed with small backpacks and hands messily tying blue bows into pigtails. Elbows and knees collide as they change from their plastic pink house sandals into their black shiny school loafers and amass outside in the alley. One by one the girls descend and as soon as everyone is ready, we link hands.
It feels like a very large honor to walk the girls to school. It feels special that every hand or elbow that can be linked with another is an opportunity to literally connect. We are the ones that stick out. Taller and thicker than the average Nepali, it is easy to pick us out from the sea of blue uniforms. It is not a far walk to Everest School, but there are many cars, many people, and a lot of commotion to get through. Everyone arrives together at the gate of the school and says “Bye, Sister! Have a good day!” We watch them walk into the yard and can’t help but feel like proud family members as their pigtails sway behind them.
These girls are the lucky ones. They attend private school, paid for by the incredible supporters of the Unatti Foundation. They have polish for their shiny shoes. They bring “show and tell” pictures made with colored markers and crayons on large pieces of paper. They have no parents living in Bhaktapur, but they are surrounded by each other and the adults that run the Unatti Home at all times. There is no shortage of love. Perhaps because we are new here, the love that we feel for these girls is overwhelming