The backyard of the orphanage

The taxi ride

Tuesday 23rd April
Woke up feeling a bit unsettled today.  Not exactly DB but not 100% so decided to stay in my hotel room to be near a civilised bathroom.  I slept until noon and felt a bit better so decided to take a taxi to the orphanage.  The man on the door at the hotel went outside and blew a whistle and a small Suzuki car appeared.  I asked the driver if he knew the OCCED orphanage in Naxal district.  With the customary waggling of the head he said yes madam, he did.  So I got in.  Big mistake.  I started to feel a bit uneasy when he went a different route from the usual one the people carrier takes every day for the 10 minute journey.  We went down narrow unmade roads with potholes the size and depth of a washing up bowl.  I was seriously concerned  for the safety of my fillings.  The car itself was in the minimalist style of vehicles.  Like a stock car, it had been stripped of most of the non essentials eg I could see the bare metal of the car doors, all padding gone, I sat on a carpet and the handles to lower the windows were missing.  But there was a very nice tassel on the steering wheel.  After about 10 minutes he announced Naxal but we weren't at the orphanage.  We had a Morecombe and Wise type conversation where I said something and he repeated it and then he said something and I repeated it.  I got out and found some men standing in a group who said they spoke English and I explained where I wanted to go.  After  several minutes of heated debate in Nepali, the consensus seemed to be that I should go to Balaamundi.  So we went there. It turned out to be an exhibition centre.  The driver was very put out that it was not where I wanted to be.  In desperation I drew several small stick children and an adult stick person with a line drawn through it, orphans??? No luck.  So I got out my hotel phone number and he rang there.  My phone will not work in Nepal.  Guess what the Receptionist told him, go to Balaamundi.  By now I have had enough as it is boiling in this tin can with no air.  "Sokio"  I said, which means "It is finished"  I just wanted to go back to the hotel but he wasn't giving up.  He rang someone else, no idea who, and set off again.  By this time I am wondering if he has sold me into the white slave trade when suddenly I recognise some landmarks and we are there.  I have been sweating in the car for 50 minutes and don't feel like giving him double the fare he asked for, so we compromise on half extra.
The afternoon in the orphanage was a doddle by comparison.  I played with the tiny ones and had conversation with a very bright little girl of seven called Sone.  We learned how to say "do you like.....?"  and reply "I like... " or "I don't like..." and then she wrote out a list of things she liked and didn't like.  One of the Nepali helpers told me about some of the other children.  If you look back at the photo at the top of my blog, you can see one of the little ones wearing a bonnet.  That is Teepak.  He is 13 moths old and was found in a bag by the side of the road when he was a few months old.
When the older ones got home from school and changed out of their uniforms, which they do without being told, I played a card game called UNO with them.  I was asked to bring it with me from the UK as they had worn out the last pack they had.  Six of us played for ages and no Nepali was spoken at all.  They even started copying me when I won and said Yayy!
On the way back in the evening, we stopped off at the department store for some essentials ie. another bottle of gin and some cans of tonic.  Too expensive in the hotel.  When I say department store, you have to think Nepali style.  It's actually more like a large corner shop and it only sells food, drink, toiletries etc.
I didn't take any photos today so I am posting one that another volunteer took of the outside area of the orphanage.
PS the Twinkle Twinkle post yesterday was a video of the children singing but I don't know what I did wrong. Sorry.