Nepal: How Do I Remember Thee?

The Himalayas from the hotel rooftop

Every morning, I would climb to the rooftop of the hotel to try my luck with the Himalayas.  For several days, I would come down slightly disappointed as all I could see was a hazy mountain range no different from what I'd see in the Philippines.  But finally on my fourth day, after a slight drizzle in the afternoon, I saw her.  I never saw her again, but that was enough.  She will forever stay in my heart's memory bank - that afternoon when God's grandeur appeared to me in all majesty.  

The Himalayas, the prospect of going to Pokhara, and perhaps even doing the flight that allows one a glimpse of the Mt. Everest make Nepal a perfect getaway for nature lovers.  Nepal is not Nepal though without its many cultural heritage sites.  Stupas, temples, and palaces abound, each one an intricate work of art.  And then, of course, there's a really good shopping experience to look forward to - genuine pashmina and silk shawls, beautiful 
trinkets, and meditation tools.  My first buy was a meditation singing bowl.  I had been
looking for one and saw some in India and Myanmar but didn't find something close to what I found in Nepal.  In my mind then I was already thinking of Nepal as one place I'd like to go back to and bring my son to in December.  

Patan Durbar Square in Lalitpur, one of three royal cities in the Kathmandu valley

And then it happened. A 7.8 magnitude earthquake struck close to noon on Saturday, 25 April. The world saw it on TV and in the worldwide web.  I saw it with my own eyes;  I felt it with my whole body.  We were in Bhaktapur, another of three royal cities and another UNESCO heritage site, when we felt the tremors. For 54 seconds that felt like half an hour, the world shook and I saw a temple crumble down.  As dusty as the world was around me, my body-mind-spirit felt the haziness of a near-death experience.  My heart sank with fear for our lives, with regret that we hadn't even seen the heart of this heritage site, and with anxiety over what lay ahead. Anguish came close to me as we were trying to get in to the taxi we hired. An old woman was crying in disbelief and grief at the sight of her house coming down to pieces.  I struggled as I didn't speak the local language and so I reached out to her in the only way I knew possible.  I held her and in that brief moment, I felt that I held her heart and absorbed her pain.  

The coming days were a test of behavioural competencies my friends in our organisation's selection team would later jokingly assess me against - adaptability, resilience, and being open minded and respectful.  These were days spent waiting in anxiety to get a flight out of the country.  These were days spent in guilt, wanting to to do something to help yet feeling so helpless.  These were days of frustration as I had a well planned return trip and a scheduled meeting with a close friend. But more than anything, these were days of gratitude for surviving, for being with a group of Filipinos when it happened instead of being alone as I had originally planned, for being in a hotel instead of camping out in the the streets.  Weeks hence shaking movements, such as when my son shakes his leg or someone accidentally bumps into my space, still make me slightly hyper-vigilant.  I sometimes wonder, will I be able to look at a temple again without fear that it may collapse?  

Ruins of a temple that crumbled down before my eyes

How do I remember thee, Nepal?  I remember you as I experienced you in toto, and I'll remember how loved I felt by people who expressed concern and helped in more ways than one.  I know the post-trauma stress manifestations, which we say almost like a mantra in trauma work as "normal reactions to an abnormal situation" will linger for a while, but I know these will all soon pass.  I know too that there is a deep meaning hidden in this experience.  I feel the Spirit calling out to me.  

Seconds after the plane finally took off, the pilot asked us to look to our left to have a glimpse of Mt. Everest.