Jyoti's Birth Family

God Makes the Seemingly Impossible, Possible ~ Now for the evidence that God can do more than we can ask or imagine!

Friday December 30, 2011

Knowing that this was my last morning in Nepal, I was a little numb. Having lived there for the last three months it was hard to realize that today was the last day there! Dad and I walked down to the durbar square (old palace area) to do some final shopping and take pictures. It seemed almost “normal” and comfortable to be walking around the streets and interacting with people. On the other hand, I realized that within 24 hours, we would be on the other side of the world in our American culture again. It was another sunny day, another aspect I really liked about winters in Nepal.

Arriving back to the guesthouse to pack our bags into the taxi and drive to the airport, I experienced mixed emotions. I felt a bit down about leaving Nepal, especially since I recently discovered that I had a birth family. While driving up to the airport welcoming area, I realized wistfully that I would not see my birth family for a very long time. Arriving in the airport drop-off area, who should we see but one of my mamas (the relative I had originally met)! Then after getting out of the taxi we were met by at least 20 relatives, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc.

Some of the relatives that came to bid me farewell

They had come 5 hours from their village and had waited two hours at the airport not wanting to miss us. Mom, Dad and I were adorned with numerous honor-scarves, and I was given gifts from my sister and my cousins. One of my tailor mamas had made Mom, Dad, and me little silk purses, which he put on all of us. Then again we had to take many photos, and my sister was quite emotional throughout the time. I assured her that I was so very pleased and blessed to meet her and that I would never forget her and I would pray for her every day. I also asked her to please continue to see and welcome my brothers, and I told her that I would pray that they will stay connected.

L to R: My sister Khusbu, a friend, my cousin Dipa, & me

I was privileged to meet one of my mother’s sisters who walked two hours from her village to make the 5 hour bus ride into Kathmandu. She was very sweet, and assured me that she was so happy to meet me, and that I was like a living version of my mother. I especially appreciated the effort it took her and also an older great uncle, to come and see me before I left, for I know that physically it must have been difficult. 

L to R: A mama (uncle), my mother's eldest sister,
me & Khusbu

 
After many goodbyes, we finally made it into the airport to stand in line for security. The last scene in my head of my family was of all of them watching from outside the airport windows waving goodbye. Once again I was filled with appreciation of how accepting, caring, and the steps they took to meet me and send me off with gifts, foods, scarves and well wishes.

All my relatives waving farewell

After taking off on our Korean Air flight, and rising into the air, having a great window seat, I was able to view a grand selection of the Himalayas, including the magnificent Mt. Everest in the hue of the setting sun. Seeing this breathtaking sight felt like the seal to God’s numerous and awesome blessings that had taken place not only in the last week, but for the whole time I was in Nepal.

The Mt. Everest view from our airplane

Jyoti’s Birth Family

 God Makes the Seemingly Impossible, Possible ~ Now for the evidence that God can do more than we can ask or imagine!

Thursday December 29, 2011

 Having less than 24 hours left in Kathmandu, the time went quickly with so many unanticipated and wonderful contacts. Today started out leisurely, as we only had one planned activity and that was to go to our friend’s coffee shop for a noon lunch get together. Upon arriving at the coffee shop, I was surprised to meet one of my brothers who had been waiting for us, having called our translator to get directions. He then told us that our other brother had gone to get our father, who decided to take the 5 hour plus taxi ride into the city to meet me. I was pretty excited and nervous. Here was my father coming, and I would finally get to see him, but on the other hand I had no idea what to say to him! Finally, after two hours, my birth father came.

L to R: Visan (eldest brother), Sane (father), me,
and Kisan (the younger of the brothers)

When he arrived, seeing me for the first time, both him and my brothers got emotional and needed a few moments to collect ourselves. I think it was very important for my brothers to see me meet my father and to see that I wasn’t angry at him for leaving me, and that I was pleased to meet him. He told his side of the story and circumstances of my birth; why he didn’t come for me in the hospital and by whom my three siblings were raised by and why. It would have been difficult for him to raise four children by himself at that time having just lost his wife, so he had to make some choices.

My birth father telling his version of the events
that surrounded my birth

 There appears to be some resentment from my mother’s family members about the situation 20 years ago, but now that I’ve met both sides of the family, I can appreciate the difficulties that they all experienced. For me of course, it was/is all God’s plan, and I only feel that all these things have worked out for good. In addition to the tailor caste, my family members are the musicians for weddings and festivals, and apparently my father has some advanced skills in that, therefore, my flute playing is part of my genes! My brothers both said that our father also taught them well the tailoring business. Having printed out pictures from the previous day, my brothers presented me with the copies, a very considerate gesture on their part. 

Looking at photos of me and my life in America

 

It was really nice to see some of my father’s personality; he seemed very genuine and sweet. I calculated that he is 58 years old. He also had re-married and had two other sons, one nine and the other seven. I was able to see pictures of them. My father also said that he had heard of Christianity, and our translator stressed to him the fact that if he wanted to see his sons and daughter in heaven, he too needed Jesus. 

My birth father & me

The whole afternoon went well, and I was very thankful that my father could meet me and meet my parents, and therefore see that I was well taken care of. I also felt like there was so much said non-verbally and if only we could have spoken the same language we would have talked a lot more. Though the visit was short, the time we did have was very meaningful.

After that, I felt “complete” that I had met my birth family, and now I would never have to wonder who they were, how many I had, and what they looked like. All by God’s divine plan and grace, this whole experience took place. Praise God!

Jyoti’s Birth Family

God Makes the Seemingly Impossible, Possible ~ Now for more the evidence that God can do more than we can ask or imagine!

Tuesday December 27, 2011

Today I was to meet my sister Khusbu. I wondered if she would look like me as my brothers do. I knew she lived with her husband of two years and therefore with his family as is Nepali custom. Taking a taxi (with the same driver who drove us to Dhading village - I kind of wondered what he thought about the whole situation of me finding my family) across town having to ask directions once, we drove around the Swayambhunath temple. Eventually we called my sister’s sister-in-law to ask for directions and she located our taxi, since she was in that area to buy the traditional ceremonial honoring welcome scarf. After squishing into our already crowded taxi with me, Mom and Dad, our translator and her daughter, she directed us towards her house. Through some back roads and alleys, we finally arrived to the place where my sister lives. They live in a basic two room place on a flat roof, accessed by huge steep concrete steps. My sister lives there with her husband, his sister and his mother.

When I got out of the taxi, I stood facing the car for a second, collecting myself before meeting my siblings. All of a sudden my sister came running up to me so fast she almost knocked me over! She was wailing, almost like somebody had died, her face with tears of emotion falling down her cheeks. She clung to me like I was going to disappear. Finally after quite a period of time, the younger of our two brothers reminded our sister that she should lead me up to their room.

Meeting my sister Khusbu

I could tell that everyone had tried their best to come well-dressed. Both my brothers had suit jackets on handmade by them, and their wives were also dressed very nicely in the traditional kurta which are short dresses and matching pants. My sister also dressed nicely and was wearing her wedding jewelry, and therefore I could see they had taken extra measures for our meeting.

My sister wanted to give a “tika” (a Hindu blessing of a spot placed on the forehead between the eyes) to me as a welcome, but I declined telling her I was a Christian and did not want to receive the Hindu tika mark.

L to R: My siblings: Kisan, Khusbu, me, and Visan

All my siblings and their spouses/children, my parents & me

Having met my brothers' wives, and sons (each had one) we found out that they were also Christians! Praise God! I was SO blessed, to know that they believed in Jesus as their Lord and Savior. My sister, however, did not, but I urged my brothers to continue to be a witness to her. My sister’s husband, knew some English, so my sister had dictated to him a note for me, of things she had been feeling, and things she wanted to say but couldn’t because of the language barrier. This was really touching to me, the effort they had made to reach out to me, even though we spoke different languages, and came from different cultures. My siblings then showed me pictures of their weddings, family gatherings, my brothers' children when they were little. A few more of my “mamas” (uncles) were there and to understand who was who, Dad tried to formulate a family tree. 

Relatives

 We then took many photos of every possible combination, one of my brothers had a camera, we had ours, and everybody else used their cell phones. My brothers and sister do not have internet accounts set up, but this meeting may encourage them to set up email and Skype accounts so we can stay connected. They do have cell phones which have very inexpensive rates for calls internationally (at least compared to our costs for calling from the US). We hope to stay in contact, and this will be an incentive for me to upgrade my Nepali language skills.

 Again, we learned that my brothers had not had any contact with our sister for the past  20 years, so finding them provided an opportunity for us all to meet, all planned creatively by God to reconcile a family. My sister prepared a nice dal bhat meal for us, and was pretty surprised that we couldn’t drink the water (due to untreated tap water) and gave us soda instead. My 3 year old nephew kept eating the chips off of my plate, for which I was extremely thankful because I was wondering how I’d eat it all! Then my siblings presented me with many family photos for me to keep, and again my birth father called while we were there and apologized for not being able to be there. I’m sure there must be some difficult emotions that he is experiencing over past actions, but that too is something that God is reconciling. My family, as I may have described, is from a so called low caste of tailors, but seems to be exploring and starting enterprises that provide a reasonable income. They wanted me to stay with them a couple days, which would’ve been “interesting”, but with the language and cultural barrier would have been tremendously difficult. It was of course difficult to leave, but on our way they led us to a building where an uncle had a factory in three small rooms that produced over-the-shoulder cloth purses for export to Europe. They wanted to give me one to remember them by. It was quite special to have a bag made by some of my birth-relatives, and what made it more fun was how my brother sewed on a button that had been missing right then and there. When I use that bag I will always think of the special time that I was able to have met my birth siblings and extended family.

The bag my siblings chose for me

Jyoti's Birth Family

God Makes the Seemingly Impossible, Possible ~ Now for the evidence that God can do more than we can ask or imagine!

Monday December 26, 2011

I woke up today with anticipation. Today was the day I would travel out of the Kathmandu valley to Dhading Besi in search of my birth  family. I prayed that this whole experience, whether I did or did not meet family, would be whatever the Lord willed. But after climbing into a small taxi with my parents and our friend/translator, and traveling on the windy roads through the hills, I was having doubts. “Here I am ‘dragging’ my family and our friend on this crazy road trip, taking their time for a slim chance of finding my birth family”. As we sat in a traffic jam on a hill, due to all the tour buses and freighter trucks slowly driving up the opposite side of the hill, I honestly wondered if we would ever get to the village at all! Finally, after three, almost four hours, our taxi made its way into Dhading Bazaar, and my heart sank. The “village” which I was expecting to see was a decent sized town. With many shops, and people, I wondered how we would EVER meet anyone who knew of my birth family. Little did I know that the Lord had an amazing blessing in store for me.While driving through the main street of Dhading, I instinctively scrutinized the faces of the people passing by us “hoping” rather futilely that I would see someone who looked like me. It was a silly thing to do but I couldn’t help it.

The main street of Dhading Besi

 Having arranged to meet a friend who works with the United Mission to Nepal in Dhading, we called him up to discuss where we should meet for a lunch of dal bhat (the traditional rice and lentil meal.)

After finding a spot to park near the hospital, we proceeded to meet up with our friend. Knowing the local restaurants, our friend showed us two before finding one that would serve us bhat, though we had to wait a half hour before it would be ready.During this time we decided to come up with an idea of where to inquire about my birth family. Having only a hospital record sheet with the name and town address of my birth father, Ram Bahadur (a common Nepali name) we decided to start at the local hospital. Having previously seen the outside of the hospital and its conditions, I dreaded having to go there. Just then, our friend/translator had an idea. “Why don’t I ask a few of the older men sitting outside their shops, if they have lived in Dhading for twenty or more years?” She proceeded to ask the first man she saw; he had not lived in Dhading for that long. The second group of men she asked had, and when she asked them if they knew of a Ram Bahadur one man said, “No, but I know someone who does.” He then summoned another man from his shop who did indeed know my birth father. When this man came, we inquired about his relationship to Ram Bahadur Pariyar. This man answered the questions that fit the circumstances of my birth mother; that of being taken to Kathmandu due to illness, giving birth to a girl, and dying due to jaundice. It turned out that this person was my maternal grandfather’s brother’s son. Having heard this, (translated into English by our friend) I was shocked! This man claimed to be a relative! We did not tell him who I but arranged to meet him after our lunch. Still a bit shell-shocked that only after two inquires, we had found a relative, I stumbled into the restaurant to tell Mom. She was surprised to see us (having left only fifteen minutes earlier) and when I told her, we met one of my possible relatives, she thought I was joking.

The first relative I met with our friend/translator

But no, this was not a joke, though I was having a hard time believing that what just took place was reality. Somehow, I managed to eat some of my food, and after our lunch we went to find the man who said he was one of my relatives. As he escorted us down the road, he told us more of my birth family’s details, and he made several calls on his cell phone. To confirm that he was who he claimed to be, we asked him how old my birth mother was when she died. We knew this, because it was on the hospital record, and he answered that she was twenty-two, which was correct.We then came to a tailor shop, which is the caste trade of my family. My uncle introduced his father (my great-uncle) who owned the shop as well as two of my “real” uncles, and a cousin. At this point, I realized this really was my birth family and was drawn to tears because God had made the seemingly impossible, possible. One of my uncles became quite emotional as well, and I realized what this might mean to him. I am close to the age my mother was when she passed away, and having me show up must have been like my mother showing up. 

L to R: My great uncle, cousin, me, my great uncle's son, my real uncle,
my aunt's husband, and another uncle

Another uncle told us that he was going to get a photo of my birth mother and father. This was quite unexpected, because I never thought I would see a picture of my birth parents.

My birth father and birth mother

Then people started gathering: relatives, friends, and neighboring shop keepers. The word was out that I, the newly "found" relative, was here to find her family! People crowded around me taking pictures with their cell phones (almost everybody had one) and chattering about how much I looked like my mother. 

Family, neighbors, and bystanders coming to see me,
the newly "found" relative

One of my cousins was also named Jyoti, and once she knew my name, she couldn’t stop smiling. Another one of my cousins, Dipa spoke some English, so it was nice to be able to communicate with her.  We learned that my birth mother was the youngest of 7 siblings; there are five brothers and two sisters, all living, but only two uncles lived in that town. There were a number of other relatives that we met who helped us  put a family tree together to get the relationships straight. There were many pictures taken, of every combination. 

My cousin Dipa and me

Another amazing thing I learned was that I had three siblings, two brothers and one sister all who live in Kathmandu. Visan, my eldest brother is 24, Kisan the younger brother is 22, and my sister Khusbu is 21.  Upon learning this, in awe. Never in my life had I ever contemplated having birth siblings, and  upon learning that I had three, was quite a surprise! After my birth mother passed away, my birth father returned to Dhading and took my two brothers with him, leaving my sister with relatives in the village. Finally, having to leave, so we could get back to Kathmandu at a decent time we were escorted by the many relatives to our taxi. 

Members of my maternal birth family in Dhading

Driving away, I tried to make sense of all that took place, still shocked by the discovery of having so relatives as well as siblings. Then the borrowed cell phone started ringing. Like myself, our translator was pretty tired from the day’s excitement, but she graciously answered call after call. My sister’s sister-in-law (who could speak English) called and wanted me to go to their house that night! But we were all so emotionally drained, so we arranged to meet my sister and family the next day. Then one of the uncles had called my brothers, and they wanted to see me as well. Our translator told them that they could meet us at my sister’s the next day. My brothers called again insisting that they must have at least a “glimpse” of me before the next day. We arranged to meet at Kalanki, the intersection to Ring Road. We gave them our taxi’s license plate number and told them we it would be a few hours before we got to the intersection. As it grew dark, I wondered how we would connect with my brothers. At one point our taxi driver pulled onto the dirt shoulder hoping to cut the line of jammed traffic. While we were stopped at the edge of the road, two young men up ahead of us were peering at the taxis.When then realized it was my brothers, our driver flicked his lights to indicate that we were who they were looking for. I’ll never forget that night, when I saw my brothers’ faces for the first time! I looked into the familiar dark eyes of two, very handsome looking young men. I had not expected them to look so young! And there was a resemblance: eyes, noses, mouths, ears, I felt so rude by staring, but I couldn’t help it. These were my brothers! They seemed very nice, and talked very respectively to our translator. They asked for our sister’s number, since they hadn’t seen her in twenty years.We said good bye to them, telling them we hoped to see them at our sister’s the next day.Ten minutes after our taxi started slowly moving along the heavily trafficked road. My brothers came running up to the car again, having to show me a picture of my birth father! All I remembered from that initial photo was my father’s long, grey, beard which scared me a little. My brothers also called up my father and wanted me to talk to him. All I knew how to say was “hello, Father” so our translator talked with him instead. He said he was not able to meet us as he lived two hours north of Dhading. Finally, leaving my brothers, we traveled to our guest house.

How do I explain what happened today? Only that God is the God of the amazing, and when we pray for miracles and for Him to have a hand in things, we shouldn’t be surprised when the surprising and miraculous happens. With God ALL things are possible!

To be continued…

Tihar and the Rasks

Fall Festivities

Having been here for almost two months, I have seen many things! The end of October brought Tihar, the festival of lights to the goddess Laxmi. The Hindus fill their houses with lit candles- I remember this from when I was little. Since then, people have used electric lights instead of candles, but what happens when the power goes out? I found this quite interesting and a little amusing, when the celebration of lights are extinguished by a power outage. Seeing all the houses decorated with lights reminded me of Christmas, and some houses keep their lights up until Christmas.

One evening, I was invited to attend our former landlord’s puja Tihar ceremony. Insisting that I only wanted to observe their ceremony. All the family had come together to celebrate- and their were lights, candles, fruit, drinks, and dye and flowers to decorate the heads of all those who participated. I found their family time very unique and special. The only sad thing was that they were worshiping themselves- instead of the true Father of Lights.

Tihar Electric Lights, Candle, and Oil Lamp

Tihar Festival Puja

Fruit, Candles, Dye

Everyday I get to see two little girls Ellie and Hope.

Ellie is three (almost four) and LOVES the color purple. She also loves to draw and we’ve spent hours drawing all the Disney princesses and many characters from Mary Poppins. She also loves to put on temporary tattoos, and wear pig tails with green and purple hair ties and clips. Ellie’s favorite food for lunch is Bhat (rice) and Dahi (yogurt). 

Ellie

Hope is almost one. She is walking, and can somewhat talk. Everyday she loves to wear her shoes and walk around the house. Somedays she finds didi’s shoes and tries to walk in them but only succeeds in falling. Bumping her head is a daily affair. Hope is following in her sister’s footsteps and ‘pretends’ to draw pictures, with colored pencils (that are dull or broken) and books. Hopefully (someday soon) she will learn that there is paper that you can draw on and paper that you cannot- like books. Hope loves to eat practically anything- and whenever she sees food- she wants to share. 

Hope and her baby doll.

Namaste from Nepal

A gateway into Lalitpur

Namaste from the land of the Himalayas! It’s been a few weeks since I’ve been here and wow how different from Laos this is J Upon arriving I was met with traffic-piled, smog-filled, and people-packed. I remember thinking “is this how it was 13 years ago?”. This question will not cease to crossed my mind for the next few months of my stay here. I arrived during the Nepali festival of Dasain. This festival is where family gatherings are important, and “puja” worship to the goddess Durga- is conducted decorating cars, buses, windows, and foreheads with red paint and rice.

One childhood memory was the Ping a swing made from bamboo, resurrected at every corner of streets, towns and villages. Children, young men and women flocked to these swings taking turns to dangle and swing from these precarious structures! Having never been on one, I decided that it was now or never. Praying that the swing would stay in tact, I rode on a Ping- enjoying it very much.

A local Ping

Me on a Ping

Playing flute at church has also been a part of my activities. Going to a Nepali church where the service is all in Nepali,where shoes are left outside, and seats are on the floor was quite a different from my church back home, but the small-community and hospitality is the same.

I can catch a few words in Nepali, but other than playing my flute, and singing a few of the familiar songs, I am an observer. I never will forget the night that the church held a BBQ. I was told that only the chicken meat was “safe” to eat; pork being iffy on how clean it had been cooked. After being dished up rice, chicken, a broth, and some Achar (spicy!) I sat with a group of girls my age. Half-way through the meal- I bit through the most piro (super spicy) pepper. I thought red fire ants were boring into my gums. Unfortunately I only had a small Dixie cup of water which by no means cooled the volcano of fire billowing from my mouth. I quickly ate the rest of my rice and meat hoping to staunch the sting of the pepper. I lived through that meal, and somehow I think I am on the path to eating spicier things!

Me playing flute for special music

My piro pepper experience

It was also a special time to have Dale and Bethsaba’s oldest daughter Shova come home on holiday. She goes to a school in India and from the minute I met her, we hit it off. She was a great translator and introduced me to her friends, her favorite snacks, and her favorite TV shows. I accompanied her with my flute when she sang a solo in church- she has a lovely voice. I am looking forward to when she comes again at Christmas. She was the perfect blessing to help me adjust into Nepal life.

Shove and I 

A girls outing with lunch at the Himalaya

So Far in Laos

Before I left for Laos, I knew I was going to Asia, I was going to a warm place, I was going to see Jeffrey and Kaarina, and I was going to a place where brown skin and black hair was the majority. After waving goodbye to mom and dad at the airport- before going through security, I was hit with a wave of overwhelming emotion. Thankfully the security guard had to re-scan my bag- due to an unopened Jell-O and joked about my horde of Pringles I had packed as a choice for plane snacks, therefore distracting me from tears that threatened to flow. The plane rides were fun; I made small talk with my seat-mates, those who spoke English. Making it all the way to Thailand was easy, but then I did the ONE thing in the whole trip I was NOT supposed to: Going through Thai customs, getting a stamp on my passport- which cost me a night in the airport instead of a night inside a day-room.  I had seven hours to watch over my bags, and hang out. So I bought two Cokes, and parked my baggage cart between the passport check officials and the tourist police. Then next morning I was able to re-check my bags, and hang out in the Bangkok airport before my final flight to Laos.

Bangkok Airport

 My first week in Laos was spent in the capital city of Vientiane. Kaarina had some fun activities planned. One of my favorites was the Lao photo shoot. We went to a photo shop, chose traditional Lao outfits, and had our hair, make-up done. Then came time for photos: Kaarina and I felt like we were models, posing this way and that. The photographer didn’t speak English and had a hard time “showing” ways he wanted us to hold our hands, and “tilt” our heads.  It was really fun to dress up and experience a little of girly-Lao culture! Another activity we did was go bowling. But this bowling alley had a twist- some of the lanes were uneven and had bumps on them, which had an interesting twist on the game.

Lao Models

Traditional Lao Getup

Bowling

 In Laos I have experienced many ways of transportation:

One mode of transportation was a scooter- many people rode these, and it was very interesting to see women in very A-line skirts riding mopeds.  Some ladies rode side-ways which is actually easier. You’d see families of four on one scooter, and people toting large hardware pieces.  I experienced a bumpy ride on a scooter and the best way to ride was pretending I was on a horse by anticipating all the bumps.  Another crazy ride was on an army truck, through roads, that weren’t even roads! They were muddy trenches, and ruts! It was a 10 hour trip and Jeffrey calculated that we traveled an average of 8 miles per hour! Many a time the bus “crew” got out the winch and “pulled” us out of the mud. I remember looking at the next curve and wondering if there was a smooth road after it, most times there weren’t.  One stretch in the middle, the road turned to a darker mud, different than the usually red clay-sludge.  At this point we went a little faster and therefore caught a little breeze, that normally creeping at an ant’s pace, we wouldn’t normally feel. What seemingly was an endless trip, finally ended when we reached our destination, Tha Thom, Jeffrey and Kaarina’s village.

Scootering

Mud...Mud Everywhere

Biking Home

It’s pretty amazing thinking that it’s been three…almost four weeks that I’ve been here in Laos. It’s been fun seeing Jeffrey and Kaarina, spending time in their village, and meeting the people they work with. I’ve also gotten to see a LOT of wildlife- When I first got to Jeffrey and Kaarina’s house I felt like I was at the zoo- with chickens, roosters, geese, ducks, turkeys, dogs, cats, and cows ambling through the yard.

Staff Game Night/Welcome Party

At the Plain of Jars