The rains threatened but did not hit as we explored the dusty side roads that fed on to the back streets of inner city urban Kathmandu.
What we saw troubled me. Rivers clogged with trash that were a water supply to those living on them. Families whose homes backed up onto these rivers which consisted of banks that were thick piles of years of trash.
This was just ‘normal’ for many living this way. Children raised in this manner didn’t know any better. This was where they lived. This was where they played. This was where they grew up and learned their first lessons about life.
Survival consisted of making do with what you have. In a country where the lower paid employee, assuming one could find a job, made little more than two dollars a day things were tough.
We watched a small part of a normal day unfold for this group of children in their back yard on the banks of the Bishnumati River.
A drove of pigs came foraging along the bank and a young girl of little more than five years ran over to chase them away.
One of the pigs, too focused on a foul puddle of muck, flopped over and lay there as she chased the others away. Further daily scenes unfolded in a disturbing manner.
People washed food and clothing in the same filthy river, which upstream had snagged a dead pig on a shallow ledge. And so it went, a normal day in Kathmandu.
We found ourselves contemplating the quality of life many had. Hygiene, shelter, food and water; all of which were in short supply compared to where we came from.
We agreed with locals we engaged in conversation surrounding this matter. For the quality of life to be lifted it is going to take the movement of the masses.
Some graffiti we found sought to implant basic principles in this area. This I will share with you in the coming days. Here’s to a brighter future with better opportunities for this and the next generations.
