It Never Rains but it Pours

It is monsoon season in Nepal.

A few minutes ago, Mum and I left our house to go and meet a friend. We walked a few metres down the road when the heavens opened and Gush! With no warning, the Water From the Sky dial went from ‘nothing’ to the ‘monsoon’ setting. It is raining heavily now. Big droplets are cascading down in overwhelming numbers. Thunder is rumbling and lightning is crackling. Mum and I have retreated back to our room to wait it out.

Rain does funny things to people. Mum and I only have one umbrella so when it rains, we are forced to share the shelter that is clearly meant for only one person. Tensions run high as Mum accidentally prods the umbrella in my face or I momentarily forget she is there and she gets wet.

Rain is a big source of complaint, too. It stops people going where they want to go when village roads are cut off. It wets dry washing, It creates mud that causes people to slip, fall, face plant, and sometimes spread eagle (I’ve seen the latter happen once and it was hilarious). It causes flooding that can ravage homes, businesses and lives.

But rain has its benefits. It gets the hydropower pumping so there’s more electricity. It wets the rice plains and causes the plants to grow so that the Nepalis can eat their dal bhat 57 times a day (ok it’s more like 2 – 4 times, but you know. And dal bhat is lentil soupy stuff poured over rice). It settles the dust on Kathmandu’s notorious roads. It fills rainwater tanks so there’s water to drink.

When things go wrong in life, when the proverbial rains start to pour down on us, we can choose how we react. Will we complain, or will we patiently seek the shelter of our Heavenly Father? Will we curse the rain because it is inconvenient, or will we see how it causes things to grow in us?  Will we prod people in the face and exclude them as we seek our own comfort first, or be loving and compassionate and comfort others who are in times of rainy struggle? Just like the Nepali monsoons, rains can come out of nowhere, so we need to think about this stuff now, so we’re ready.

The rain has eased off now, so we’re off to do what we set out to do and meet our friend. I will continue to think about and be challenged by how I act when the rains fall.

‘But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous.’
MATTHEW 5:44, 45

‘If you falter in a time of trouble,
    how small is your strength!’
PROVERBS 24:10

God’s Faithfulness Disintegrates Pickles

Two days.

I was going to be two days over.

The longest that one can stay in Nepal on a tourist visa is 150 days in a year, and I had booked my flights on dates that would make my stay 152 days.

What had I done?!

I know, it doesn’t sound like a big deal, but I was super worried. Was I going to be forcibly removed from the country? Like, deported? Would I have to fork out a bunch of money and change my flight? Would I be fined? Jailed? OK, some of those options are a bit extreme but they all went through my mind.

I am a total travel novice. I booked my flights with no knowledge of visas or anything. It would seem like a pretty obvious thing to research, but I had no clue. So in my mind, I had gotten myself in a pretty big pickle with this two day over thing.

The time came to renew my visa. I had gotten a three-month entry visa upon my arrival, but after that it’s a month by month thing. You go to an Immigration Office (there’s one in Kathmandu, one in Pokhara), fill out a form, give them a photo of your face, smile sweetly and say you want to do more travelling and visit more friends (both true, but you can’t mention any work you’re planning on doing – you’re not allowed to volunteer on a tourist visa!), wait around for a while, hand over some money and Bob’s your uncle, you’ve been legally granted more time in Nepal.

 Due to fear and procrastination, I was 4 days overdue for my pilgrimage to the Immigration Office. Gasp! But on my second day in Pokhara with Mum last week, I braved it. As we trudged up the main street to get to the office, I rehearsed in my mind what I was going to say – that I had booked my flights last year, I had no idea about the 150 day tourist visa thing, I love your country and please oh please don’t deport me, noooooooo! Don’t do iiiiiiiiiiiiit! (here I can imagine myself gripping on to the ankles of the Immigration man and crying hysterically as he pats me awkwardly on the head).

We walked through the ominous doors of the white, regal-looking building. I approached the lady at the counter and said in my doughy tourist accent (yes, I have one of those), ‘Hiiii, I’d like to renew my visa?’ I was given my form to fill out, and when I finished, Mr Immigration Man came up to me.

‘Excuse, me, sir, I have a question…’

‘Yes?’

‘Well…’

I told him my story about my flights and everything and presented my pickle, and anxiously asked, ‘Will I be deported for this?’ OK, maybe not – it did go through my head to ask though. He asked to see my flight booking papers (or whatever they’re called), so I nervously showed him.

‘Ah, two days over. No problem! Just tell them you already booked your flights and can’t get another one. You’ll pay small small fine and no problem.’

‘That… that’s it?’

‘Sure, no problem.’

Ahhh. I’m not getting deported. I’ll pay a $6 fine for my renegade last two days in Nepal. Phew. This big pickle that I had puffed up and up into a massive deal disintegrated into nothing.

You know what the coolest thing was? Before I left to come to Nepal a friend of mine gave me a bunch of little cards with some bible verses and quotes. As I rummaged through my little Flight Centre booky thing to find my flight details, I found one of them:

So apt. So true. God is good, all the time. How crazy that I totally forgot about his faithfulness and goodness because of a couple of days over on a visa? What even is that?

The remainder of the immigration process went fine – one of the staff lent me an umbrella to provide shade on the way to get my face photo developed and I got to practice my Nepali with one of the staff members while I was waiting for my turn to give my information. That guy then introduced me to another staff member by saying ‘This daughter speaks really good Nepali!’ which was greeted with a torrent of questions and comments that were spoken so quickly I couldn’t catch any of it! But no matter. I walked out of the building with a visa. I had conquered Immigration Day.

My excited, messy, out-of-proportion visa acceptance self-portrait.

I’m grateful I get to stay in Nepal without worrying about visas. I’m grateful for a good God who provided a nice immigration man who disintegrated my pickle. I’m grateful for a friend who gave me a bunch of God’s promises and quotable quotes that impacted me at the beginning of the journey, and now near the end. I’m grateful that no matter what my levels of worry or stupidity or stress are, God is still faithful and never changes.

 ‘Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?’
MATTHEW 6:25–27  

Mr Aircon Dared to Interrupt My Tea

My Mum is in Nepal! What the heck?!

Our embrace at the airport was one I had been looking forward to for four months! And it did not disappoint.

Having mum here is crazy and strange and wonderful and fun. It’s been cool to see how she reacts to and engages with the culture here, and her sense of humour has been awesome to have around again. The last fourish days, I’ve been showing mum some touristy things and just catching up on life with her. We have been to Thamel, the main tourist hangout, she’s met some of my friends, had some Nepali food and I have shown her how to conquer overcrowded buses. It’s been wonderful for someone so close to me to see this land that I love so much, and meet some of the people I love so much. It’s been really special and really great.

Right now, we are in Pokhara. It is a popular tourist destination, famous for its massive lake and Annapurna mountain range views. There’s lots of adventurey stuff on offer and lots of opportunities for shopping. It’s been really relaxing and lovely to chill out with my mum!

However. Yup, there’s always a however. In Nepal, it is monsoon season right now. So it’s rainy, humid – still insanely beautiful, but it’s considered ‘off-peak’ as far as tourism goes. So the business owners here seem desperate for business.

Our first half hour in Pokhara was stressful. Mum and I stumbled out of the bus after the 8-hour journey, and were immediately confronted with a swarm of taxi drivers over-excitedly offering their services. I had close to 10 taxi drivers following me around offering their taxi. I picked the quietest one (I always go for the underdog) and off we went to Lakeside, the central touristy place. We got out of the taxi, bags in hand, and we were approached by yet another swarm of men. This time it was to get us to stay in their guesthouses. A guesthouse is basically a cheap hotel designed for backpackers. We had a bunch of guesthouse owners take out their crumpled brochures to try and sell their rooms. It was overwhelming!

‘You looking for aircondition? My room have aircondition!’

‘I can offer good price, best price!’

‘Come have a look! You like, you stay, you don’t like, don’t stay, no problem.’

‘Best views in this room. You can see the mountain from your pillow!’

It was time for a gameplan. I was over being haggled with when I wasn’t ready! I was still doughy from the bus ride and just needed a minute to gather my thoughts. I told mum ‘I need tea!’ Lo and behold, there was a lady selling cups of tea in a quiet nook by the lake. We manoeuvred the steep dirt incline and approached the lady.

‘Chiya (tea)?’ I said.

She nodded.

‘Dudt (milk) chiya?’ I said, doubtful but excited.

She nodded!

Ah. Mum and I sat down on a metal bench, sat our bags down, sipped our tea and could just breathe. It was wonderful.

A few sips into my cuppa, I looked up at the road we had just come from and my heart sank.

‘Mum, the Aircon Room Guy followed us!’

Aircon Room Guy was particularly forward. He had followed us part of the way, telling us that mum needed the aircon his rooms offered. I tried to let him down easy, but it obviously wasn’t enough to deter him. He had followed us into our little caffeinated haven and in doing so, crossed a line. No one interrupts my cup of tea.

‘You stay in my room! Aircondition for your mumma!’

‘We have had long journey! We need tea. Then we decide,’ I said, hoping that would communicate ‘let us drink our tea in peace!’

‘Oh, ok, no problem. I wait. You drink tea, then we talk.’

Oh no buddy. There is no way! ‘Ok!’ Dang it. Why do I have to be so nice?!

Mum and I talked strategy as we enjoyed our tea, closely watched by our persistent friend. Where would we stay? We decided that the only sure-fire way to deter Mr Aircon was to have already made a decision about guesthouses and ask for directions there. Then he would have no doubt that we had made up our mind and it was not in favour of the Aircon Room.

The last sip of tea came. As it went down to meet the acid in my stomach, I prepared for battle. It went down pretty well – I politely explained that we had decided on a guesthouse already, but thanked him for telling us about his place. He accepted this, but assured us that it was always open if we weren’t happy where we were going.

On our way to our guesthouse, we were approached by yet another guy about the rooms he had on offer. Even after explaining that we already had a place to stay, he was still insistent on following us to ensure that we knew that his was the best one.

‘Can I be frank with you?’ I said, on the brink of exasperation but with my best effort at a smile, ‘We have just had a long journey, we are very tired, and we just need to go to our room. Please do not follow us.’

That got through.

Why did I share this story? Because this experience made me feel totally out of my depth. Because forward, persistent taxi drivers and guesthouse owners aren’t really a ‘thing’ in Australia. And because God calls us to be patient with each other, even when our tea is interrupted. Even after 8-hour long journeys. My patience muscle is definitely being flexed here in Pokhara!

As a prisoner for the Lord, then, I urge you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received. Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.
EPHESIANS 4:1, 2