Whatever Doesn’t Kill Us

By Conor | March 18th, 2007 | 12 Comments »

It is my six month anniversary here in Nepal. (Anniversary? Is that the right word? It sound chick-y….) Things have gone surprisingly according to plan. Fact is, I was sort of kidding when I said I was going to start an orphanage. Then you all started sending money. And “searching for parents of the trafficked children,” a stated objective of Next Generation Nepal, was supposed to be more like an “allegory.” But again, you guys sent some money, and we thought we should probably at least give it a shot. So it’s working out well so far, mostly – and I do mean mostly – thanks to your continued generosity.

I thought in honor of this momentous occasion, I would offer some valuable lessons that I’ve learned in these six months, in case any of you are thinking about coming out here, either to volunteer or to visit or maybe to start an orphanage, which apparently can’t be all that hard.

So here are the twenty lessons, in honor of the best game in the world: Twenty Questions. You ever play that? Because it may be the best game in Creation, just nudging out Nintendogs™. (Especially if you’re playing with, like, a super hot chick. And also maybe eating a doughnut, which Super Hot Chick will totally buy for you because you work with orphans and stuff. It’s a lock, dude.)

Let’s get started.

1. When starting an orphanage, never open naming rights to other people. They’ll come up with retarded names that have nothing to do with your own name. Instead, just start referring to it as “Conor’s House of Kids Who Think Conor is The Best” or “Conor’s House of Kids Who Think Conor is Totally Schweet.” If anybody argues that this may not be a suitable name for an orphanage, and if the people around him are listening nodding in agreement, interrupt by loudly accusing him of an unrelated crime.

2. Should ever a boy, reading from his notebook, ask you what the word “bra” means, assume he has copied the word incorrectly. Make no attempt to explain what a bra is. (If you have double and triple checked that the word in their book is, in fact, “bra,” excuse yourself for a moment, pull the fire alarm, and leave the country.)

3. Let a professional install your gas cooker.

4. A young child will inevitably follow your reaction to his or her wound, so avoid panicking and inform the child very seriously that the wound is proof that the child is a Hero and may be called upon to fight Gundas (bad guys).

5. When getting a haircut, use simple words and lower your expectations. Barbers know exactly one word in English: “Shorter?” to which the correct response is “Yes please.” (Though I am often tempted to say “No thank you,” take off the apron and walk out.)

6. Shower before taking a passport photo.

7. When yelling at a taxi driver for trying to rip you off, then refusing to pay, try to avoid dropping your wallet in the backseat before slamming the door and watching him drive away.

8. Do not say to a non-native English speaker, in alerting him to a bit of fuzz in his hair, someone who cannot hope to understand all our colloquialisms and slang, that he “has shit in his hair.”

9. Plan on your Nepali lessons starting at least fifteen minutes late on account of receiving a phone call from your Nepali teacher, who is trapped at the top of the path and who needs an escort past the monkeys, as “monkeys do not like women.”

10. Be prepared, when traveling in a remote part of the country and asking “Where is the toilet?” to receive an answer simply of “No.”

11. Bamboo furniture does not “go with everything.”

12. No it doesn’t. You may think it does, but that does not make it so.

13. If you do not know the proper proportions of spices that make up masala tea, refrain from any attempt to make it and serve it to your guests. (Unless you suspect that your guests were secretly hoping you would serve them a cup of burning sewage, because I’ll tell you what my friend – that’s what they’re fuckin’ getting.)

14. Little Kabita wants to be spun around. She’s not going to let go of you until you spin her. You know it, she knows it. Let’s dispense with the protests, shall we? It’s demeaning to both of you.

15. You can find a single missing child in a city of over a million.

16. When a single, universal language is developed by the human race, the first words uttered by the children of Dhaulagiri will be “May I please set my flip flop on fire?” followed by “Please?” followed by “PLEEEEAAASE?!!!!”

17. If it were up to the children of Nepal, the current political crisis would be solved in the ring, in tights, with the endgame involving a skull to the turnbuckle or a folding chair to the back.

18. Giving your camera to a child in hopes that he will take a nicely centered shot of you and the other children is perhaps wishful thinking on your part. In the best case scenario, part of your head may actually appear in the frame, though inevitably your mouth will be open and your hands will be miming holding a camera in an upright position. (No, like this, Ashok…like thiCLICK.)

19. If you fight a monkey, you better mean it.

20. Carry a flashlight at all times. I don’t care if it is 7 a.m. and you’re just going to the bathroom to brush your teeth. I guarantee you will somehow, someway, find yourself in a pitch dark house with 30 screaming children.

If you suck as bad as me at Twenty Questions, you may need another six or seven. Am I right or am I right? In honor of those:

21. If you ever hear a Westerner say “Hey, I just drank the water here, and I feel totally fine!” move a safe distance away from that person, because it’s about to get U-G-L-Y.

22. As a Westerner, you are automatically invited to any and all weddings; it is prestigious for the marrying couple. If a wedding party passes you, and you show even the slightest bit of interest (such as not running away at full sprint), you will be pulled into the wedding and sat at a table with complete strangers (or as the others will refer to them – the bride and groom) and be treated to six hours of music and dancing and food and halting conversation with their 14 year old cousin Pradeep who speaks little-little English.

23. It is ok to love dogs and still hope that lightning will strike that goddamn Doberman next door. We get it: you like to bark. We are all very afraid of you. Just give us twenty minutes to sleep. Twenty minutes, that’s all we ask.

24. The roads in Nepal are so bad that it is the absence of potholes that cause the biggest problems.

25. There is no better view out your office window than one that allows you to watch monkeys leaping around rooftops. You know what’s better than watching monkeys? Nothing. Nothing is better. Well, little kids, maybe. But when was the last time you saw a kid scale the side of a house and eat a potted plant?

26. If you want to blow the mind of a young orphan child from a remote mountain village in a third world landlocked country, throw on the Discovery Channel’s “Shark Week.” Whoa, daddy.

27. After a total of almost 12 months in Nepal over the last two years writing about children, I have conceded that I will never be able to fully impart to you how insanely cute these children are through words alone. Future entries to this blog, therefore, will consist of photos of a five week old puppy tumbling around in a pile of marshmallows, followed by an inspirational slogan, like “Love is Precious” or “The Most Precious Thing in Life is This Puppy in a Big-Ass Pile of Marshmallows.”

You’re welcome!

See you soon?

(Happy St. Patrick’s Day!)

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With Christmas right around the corner, you may be looking for a great cause to donate to - check out Next Generation Nepal.

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