Tuesday 6 October  Bhaktapur, Nepal.

Made the journey from Vajra in Kathmandu to the Unatti House in Bhaktapur, a short 10 miles as the crow flies. What once took 20 minutes is now a grueling 1-2 hour ordeal due largely to road construction. So after making the trek it was a pleasure to walk down the narrow dirt path, pass the women tending to their gardens and hanging the laundry out to dry on the roof, into the empty Unatti house. All the girls were in school.

I took a few moments to walk each of the five floors and really look at the house. The well kept dorm rooms, the sparse yet highly functional kitchen, the artwork with which they have decorated the worn walls, and a new addition: A “friend’s wall.” The night before they took all the photos from the donated clothes of Child to Child and

glued them directly onto the soiled yellow wall in the stairwell. The quiet space also revealed the need for more space. The Unatti family has definitely filled the entire space. I sat on the bed of Sita Sister, one of our housemothers and said out loud, “This year we will build you a new house.” I made this promise to the room of bunk beds lined up one after another after another. I think first “telling the beds” gave me the courage to promise the girls the same thing two days later. The girls do not ever complain about the limited space; they even choose to sleep two in a bed for companionship and warmth. But I want to give the girls more space.

I walked up the brick road to JC Secondary School to pull out our five oldest girls a few hours early. It was in this same schoolyard eight years ago I met the same five girls.
That day they were wearing bright red sweaters holding hands and giggling. Today they sit as proud young women at their desks but again giggle when I enter the room.

Then it was my time to giggle. Walking the girls home from school, arm in arm, I, the American Mother, was giggling with pure joy. After changing out of their uniforms I asked to see everyone for a chat.

Sitting on the linoleum floor of the dorm room, I wanted to have a chance to talk. To share stories and listen to them and their needs. Housemother Saroswoti joined us. She is new with the Unatti Foundation. One by one each of the girls said “My aim is to be teacher…a doctor…a nurse.”  No, I said, “what would you really like to do in your life?”  They were perplexed. This a culture of traditions and most women get married young, have children and do what all women do, care for the family and the home. So I began telling them about the plans I am making to insure jobs for them within the Unatti Foundation once they finish school. “We will need an assistant to Ramesh our COO, we will need a manager for the handicraft business and womens’ co-operative. We will need an accountant to oversee the finances or maybe we will need another housemother. Imagine you can have a salary and your own room. We can help you find any family you might have and you can have them come live with you in your own room outside of the Unatti house. Sangita’s dark eyes filled with tears behind her glasses. I know she has been worrying about the future of her mother who has lost the use of her legs due to malnutrition. Now she may have the possibility of becoming the caretaker and I could see this moment sunk in deep. Her face softened as she cried in her sisters’ arms as we all cried together.

I then shared a story of my childhood. Until now they were not old enough to hear this but, “I was for all intents and purposes an academic misfit, me and school were a bad fit.” Shrijana began to melt. Last term she failed two courses and I know was worried if there would be consequences. I assured her there would be none. “Poor marks are not going to get you kicked out of Unatti. All I want from you, from all of you is to be kind to each other, to try your best and always be proud and thankful for all the gifts you do have.”

This was the first time I was able to share with them as mature young women. WOW, it was powerful for all of us, holding each other, learning about each other and cherishing the time we get face to face.

Then we had business to tend to. We had to go buy a library worth of books thanks to the Carlthorp 3^rd grade Brownie troop. At the local bookstore the girls chose books for themselves and their little sisters. Books in Nepali, books in English, picture books, storybooks, and then Puja said, “what if we get some books for Sharda School?” (the same children to whom we had given Child to Child clothes). How proud was I. In the moment when my girls are being given a very substantial gift, they are thinking of passing it on.  The smile that filled my face as I caught Puja’s eye was all she needed to confirm her generosity was BEAUTIFUL.