Namaste from India!

September 29, 2014 | Ryan, PAP, CWY, India, Swami Sivananda Memorial Institute

India is a country that definitely stands true to the saying that it cannot be described in only a few short words. The cultures, noises, smells, roads, traffic, and people all contribute to this amazingly eclectic place which I am very fortunate be calling my home for these three months. After about three weeks of being here I feel as though I have comfortably settled in to my surroundings, always taking one step further as each day goes on. While getting around the city can be quite hectic, I always find myself smiling with amazement that there are far less traffic accidents than one would expect. While I would never even think of attempting to drive in New Delhi, the rickshaw and auto rides have truly been a surprisingly delightful experience with the endless honking, swerving, and shouting. I now know what it truly means to be stuck in endless New Delhi traffic…with the jams often being caused by the roaming heards of cattle!

So far, my placement at Swami Sivananda Memorial Institute (SSMI) has been nothing short of amazing. In my first three weeks here, I am have already been engaged on several different policy and program areas. My first week involved me taking a look at the various projects that are currently underway, spending a couple of hours with each of the program coordinators and officers to learn about the what is currently being done. SSMI has the main areas of focus: education, health and nutrition, and women’s empowerment. There are also two schools on the campus which provide education to the children from lower economic areas. Seeing the children definitely puts a big smile on my face every time I take a walk around the courtyard as we are always very quick to start up conversations, exchange names and ask each other questions.

After the first week, I was given the task to design and develop my own research project on how a government program, called the Mid Day Meal Scheme (MDMS), was reaching schools in rural areas. The MDMS is a government initiative that provides hot cooked meals to children during school. While the MDMS has been successful in urban areas, there have been some issues in the rural areas in meeting the standards of the scheme. I was sent to a rural town called Faizabad by overnight train where I visited nine schools over the course of three days to assess the cleanliness, hygienic practices, and the meals prepared. Being in Faizabad gave me a very different perspective of India, its culture, and its scenery. The rural scenes were absolutely beautiful, with fields upon fields of crops and greenery. It was quite nice to take a break from the busy city for a few short days and indulge in a fresh and invigorating environment.

A cow enjoying the beautiful sunset in Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh

A cow enjoying the beautiful sunset in Faizabad, Uttar Pradesh

SSMI has truly become a home away from home. Everyone here has been so welcoming and warm. I am working very closely with the Director and the General Secretary helping with various projects and tasks. Each day, I wake up looking forward to the new assignments and new adventures that I know will come. I have definitely fallen in love with India, its people, its cultures… and maybe even its cows.

Après trois semaines

September 29, 2014 | Rose, DVM, AFS, Philippines, Institute for Negros Development

Cela fait maintenant trois semaines que je suis à Palawan aux Philippines. J’apprécie beaucoup se pays et sa culture. Mon stage se déroule à merveille aussi, je travaille dans une école qui aide les enfants qui souffrent d’un handicap. Cela me permet de réaliser la chance que j’ai et me motive à faire de mon mieux pour aider ces enfants le mieux que je peux. De plus, le stage est vraiment intéressant et j’apprends beaucoup de chose ce qui le rend encore plus passionnant.

Ce stage présente de nombreux intérêts, il permet de découvrir le monde professionnel d’une autre société qui possède ses coutumes, ses traditions et sa façon de travailler. Ensuite, cela nous permet de mettre en pratique ce que l’on apprend en cours.

Enfin, ce stage est pour moi un réel apprentissage, c’est très positif et enrichissent à tous les niveaux. Cette ouverture internationale m’offre une polyvalence dans mon cursus et consolide mon ouverture d’esprit. En tant qu’étudiante je me concentre sur l’apprentissage et l’élargissement de nos horizons. Un des avantages du stage pour moi est que j’acquière une réelle expérience que je n’apprendrai jamais en cours.

Three Weeks in

September 26, 2014 | Lindy Delmage, DVM, CWY, India, RMKM

Almost three weeks have passed since I left Canada to travel to India.  This means that my internship here in Ajmer, Rajasthan with RMKM is around one quarter complete.  Already, I feel as if I have learned so much about myself.  This is especially true about my level of resilience.  I have grown through the challenges I faced, ones that are associated with living in a new place and culture.  It has been a life changing experience, and there is only more to come.  Even when I go back to Canada, I will be reflecting on events that happened, and the ways in which I reacted to them.  My organization, RMKM does amazing work with the special needs community here in Ajmer.

(A view of lake Ana Sagar in Ajmer)

I have learned many things throughout my time here.  One such lesson is about material possessions.  Before coming here, I knew that I was a minimalist at heart.  I have a few possessions that are important to me, but this has to do with the fact that they are tied to people that I love.  For example, I value my laptop and my phone because they allow me to communicate with people that are important to me when I am not immediately surrounded by them.  People here in rural India have few possessions.  More than that, their daily actions reflect the fact that sharing is heavily built into their culture.  When they eat, they sit together on the floor and share a plate.  When they drink water from a water bottle, they don’t touch the rim.  This is the case even if the water bottle is their own.  The girls who live in the hostel room next to me even share their clothes.  Their culture is so much about collectivity.  Here, my phone and computer have become communal devices.  This is fine with me because everyone else shares their things with me.  The other day, as I was trying to communicate with the kitchen staff that I wanted some tea with milk, a member of the general staff told me to wait two minutes.  He came back with a David’s tea bag.  It was kind of him to share this with me because I am sure that he does not have a lot of personal belongings.  It is daily acts of kindness such as this one that make me so happy to be here in India.

(A sunset view down the road from RMKM)

I have also realized that no matter how hard communication is from across the world, with internet struggles and phone connection problems, I will always make an effort to talk to the people that I love.  It is easy to get caught up in culture shock and daily life, but I try to take a step back to be thankful for this amazing opportunity and all of the things it has taught me so far.

India, and the hecticness of the first few days

September 26, 2014 | Ingrid Bachner, CRM, CWY, India, RMKM

We landed in Delhi in the early hours of a humid morning, nineteen long days ago, on September 7th.  The airport itself was sultry and sticky, and I was exhausted after being awake for 30 hours and counting.  The first flight we took was bloody cold and full of turbulence, and I spent the seven hours it took us to reach London trying to keep myself awake, while the Britishman next to me slept like a baby.  We reached the UK in the late morning of the 6th, and security was strict and I was irritable and overly emotional from the lack of sleep.  Shortly after, we boarded our second and last flight, and I thought it was weird that most people weren’t white, and privilege hit me right in the face and I was ashamed.  I spent the next eight hours listening to music and falling into deep five-minute naps.  Both flights were good, and I was served vegan meals, and they were all in all uneventful.

So there I was, in Delhi’s airport, all sweaty, waiting for my bag, and soon we were welcomed by someone from the organization, and we followed him to the car, where we each received a Nokia phone with a SIM card, to be used during our stay in India.  The night was pitch black but muggy and suffocating, and a bunch of people were sleeping outside on the bare ground.  We were in the car for a while, and the AC was so strong I started feeling cold, and we were all squeezed against each other, but I felt grateful that we finally reached our destination, and that I wasn’t alone.

Despite the exhaustion, I could not close an eye that night.  I did some yoga as the sun was rising and I faceplanted all gracefully and I don’t know what I was expecting in the state in which I was.  We spent the next three days in training in Delhi, and I thought that was how far cultural shock would go.  I thought the occasional stares, the pollution, the rickshaws, the honking, the people trying to sell us everything, the cold showers and buckets, the plugs not working, I thought that was cultural shock and that I was “surfing the wave”.  I was naive and in for a surprise.

On September 10th, I woke up at 3:30 am, packed, and took a cab to the train station while munching on a Clif bar.  The morning was still young, and rickshaw drivers were sleeping in their rickshaws, and skinny children were wandering the streets in ragged clothes, and I wondered where they were headed, where their mother was, why they weren’t soundly asleep, who took care of them?  And so we drove past miserable lives, and we reached the train station around 5.

The train station was filthy and scary, and we had to wait for an hour, and I felt vulnerable, clutching to my bags like they were my life, and in a way they were, at least for a few months.  We were one of the lucky ones, having a ticket for first class seats, and that meant AC, plugs, more leg space than necessary, newspaper, bottled water, coffees, teas, snacks, and meals.  It meant class and white privilege when they barely even checked our tickets.  I was thankful for the familiar luxury, but also uncomfortable knowing others were hanging off the train because they didn’t afford to even secure a place in it.

We reached Ajmer six or seven hours later, and someone from our NGO picked us up, and I sat on the front seat with the wind blowing in my face as we passed cattle and motorcycles and schoolchildren on India’s dusty bumpy roads.  We ended up in Chachiyawas, a small rural area with not much around, and at that moment I was glad for the silence and peace rural areas offer, and the mountains that surrounded us felt like home.

We were expected for lunch, and I wondered what my mother would think if she would have seen me eat with my hands while sitting on the floor, and I preferred not to think about it while I was choking on the spices.  That night I scrubbed the bathroom from one end to the other, but despite my efforts the ants remained, so I just went to bed and slept like a log.  The next day we went to the market and in the cacophony of the afternoon’s business I purchased three kilos of bananas, a box of dates, henna, as well as other sweets, all for dirt cheap, yet I couldn’t help but miss the peaceful atmosphere of Canadian grocery stores.

Right now I’m slowly settling in a routine, trying to push through cultural shock.  The days are all the same, and in the morning you can hear the children laugh and learn English, and at night the guards put Indian music and we sit on the roof with the other girls and we dance and laugh and talk about marriage and children because that’s all they talk about.  We decorate our hands and feet with henna while the lizards crawl on the walls and the stars glitter in the darkness of the sky, and for a moment time stops and nothing else matters.

Adjusting back to Canadian Life

September 10, 2014 | Katherine Jean, ECH, Uniterra, NEPAL, LPMPCU, Latipur

Hello FSS,

I returned from Nepal on a grueling 30 hour flight to arrive in Toronto. I was quickly whisked off to a family wedding, diving straight back into my old life. Now I have officially been back in Canada for the past three weeks and it has proven to be quite the adjustment.

I love being home but I am constantly reminded of Nepal in so many ways. Each time I sit down for a meal I am looking for the rice, a staple of the Nepalese diet. I also earn for some spice, which burns all the way down to your toes. As hard as I tried to learn to cook Nepali dishes it is something I never quite mastered; and all my attempts pale in comparison to my memories of little restaurant on the second floor across from the tuk tuk stop in Baluwatar, Kathmandu.

I am staying with my parents in my small home town before returning to Ottawa in September. For me this sleepy town is too quiet to get a good night’s sleep after mastering falling asleep with tons of noise. There are no dogs barking, trucks driving by and even no cattle mooing as your try and settle in for the night. Instead all is calm with a consistent buzz of the cicadas in the trees.

On the other hand I am able to draw parallels between rural life in Nepal and rural life in Canada. This past weekend was the annual Bean Festival celebrating the harvest of the white bean in the town just down from mine. All the surrounding community towns come together for two days of fun, with a bean and pork chop lunch, antique car show and a huge dance to cap the whole weekend off. In Nepal we attended the ‘Ropain Festival’, which marked the beginning of the rice planting season. There was a big feast after a long day of planting, and while planting people played in the mud and the local women sang songs to pass the time. I think there is something very unique about how rural communities use the planting and harvest season to come together and celebrate. It something I have learned is not unique to my hometown but is universal. On that note, I would love to thank the Lalitpur Dairy Milk Producer’s Cooperative Union for welcoming me into the dairy community in Nepal and for giving me the opportunity to explore and learn about the community as well.

I am glad to be home but Nepal was an amazing adventure.



An Update from Lalitpur, Nepal

September 10, 2014 | Katherine Jean, ECH, Uniterra, NEPAL, LPMPCU, Latipur

Hello FSS,

My time here in Nepal is quickly wrapping up with just one month left in my internship. My time with the Lalitpur Dairy Milk Producer’s Cooperative Union as their communications intern has been an emotional rollercoaster, but I have loved every minute so far.

I am living in the Village District Committee of Chapagaun about an hour from Kathmandu. I have my own apartment in a family home, and the family’s son often comes to check on me to make sure everything is okay. My Nepali is so-so but the people of Chapagaun are patient with me, allowing me to practise. Chapagaun is a quieter more laid back approach to life in Kathmandu, far away from the hustle and bustle of city life and a thriving tourist industry.

The past two months of been a whirlwind of activity at work. For my mandate I am to film, edit and complete a documentary by the end of July. The entire month of June has been devoted to field visits, documenting the stories of the dairy producers in the Lalitpur region. It has been a heart-warming experience because all of my field visits allowed me to interact with the local community, see the ‘real’ Nepal, far away from the tourist path. After long days I was welcomed into the homes of the Cooperative members for dinner, and a nice place to spend the night. Of my many experiences I have had in Nepal so far, staying with the families has been one of my favourites.

For the month of July my attention has shifted from filming to editing. This is proving slightly more difficult because it means more desk time then last month and finding translators from Nepali to English. I also am looking forward to seeing more of this beautiful country before the monsoon season really sets in.

Until next time,


A day in the life


I think “A day in the life” posts are so clichéd. Sometimes it seems people try too hard to find the interesting bits in an otherwise totally mundane day. Other times it seems people let one extraordinary characteristic justify their prolonged marvelling over ordinary details. Sometimes, “a day in the life” posts seem to serve absolutely no other purpose than to highlight how exotic/foreign/alien someone else’s life is, drawing lines in the sand and calling attention to difference where in fact the similarities are just as striking. “A day in the life” posts can contribute to existing biases, can distract from more important issues, and, most importantly, can be downright boring.

And yet, as I planned out what to write for my blog postings that would best convey my time in Ghana, “a day in the life” was one of the first things that came to mind. So I wrote one (call me a hypocrite!). I’m sure it falls victim to all of the ills I have just described – it probably oversimplifies what life is like for a foreigner in Ghana, while at the same time sensationalizing aspects that really aren’t all that sensational at all. And it’s probably really boring to read. Sorry.

But I wrote it for a reason. I wrote it partly for posterity – because I want to remember every single mundane detail so well I can close my eyes in my suburban Canadian bedroom and conjure up images of Accra. And I wrote it partly for the next intern - so that they’re prepared for the early mornings and the early nights, and so they can rest assure that after the craziness of the first two weeks, a pattern (dare I say, a lifestyle?) emerges, and writing a clichéd, problematic “day in the life” post suddenly becomes a possibility. And that’s kind of cool.


5:00am – Press the snooze button for the second time (this is sometimes followed by some swearing under my breath, mostly directed towards the roosters that woke me up even before my 4:45 alarm…)

5:08am – Crawl out from under my mosquito net, turn on the hot water heater, and slowly get the day started.

Sometime between 5:30am and 6:15am – Leave for work. (The 45 minute window owes its existence to my four-year-old host sister, who sometimes decides her need to sleep outweighs our need to be punctual. I had forgotten what it’s like to live with a young family, and this was one of the best parts of living with my host family).

My host family lives in Oyarifa, which is about 45minutes away from the city centre, where both my host parents and myself work, and where my host-siblings to go school. With the morning traffic this drive can easily turn into a 3 hour ordeal, so we leave early enough to avoid the worst of it. I often fall asleep on the way, and sometimes we would buy some juice, fruit, or the deep-fried doughnut type bo-fruit for breakfast from one of the many vendors who walk up to your window as you sit at a traffic light. My host mom dropped me off every morning near the main trotro station, Tema Station, so that I could make the last leg of my commute on my own. No matter how soundly asleep I was in the car, the chaos of Tema Station never fails to completely wake (startle? traumatize?) me up.

7:00am (ish) – Arrive at the office. I might stop at one of the shops near the office to buy a loaf of bread or some cheese for breakfast, which I eat along with the other early arrivals (usually other interns) over a cup of instant coffee (instant Nescafe is literally everywhere. Fresh-ground medium roast, sadly, is not). This first hour before the work day really begins is a nice way to ease into things, read the news and catch up on all the internet-ing I missed out on while I was at home (no wi-fi where I live, although my host siblings are threatening a general strike until their dad remedies that situation. I support their petition, but living without constant access (or constant cell reception, for that matter) was kind of refreshing).

8:00am – work begins in earnest. My projects at HRAC have been super interesting – I’ve helped polish up a major research report on the causes and impacts of gender-based violence in Ghanaian schools and attended workshops designed to help guidance counsellors handle this kind of issue; I’ve helped re-design the medical form used in cases of domestic violence; I’ve helped develop background knowledge on next year’s 8 focus areas; and I’ve had the opportunity to talk to people working on issues ranging from access to healthcare to LGBT rights.

12:00pm – Lunch time! In the neighborhood around the office there are a bunch of small food kiosks we all refer to by their main menu item. The waakye lady, the red-red lady, the fruit lady, the noodle lady, etc. After picking up whatever meal we each want, we all crowd around a table on the balcony of the office and eat and chat. By 1:00 we’ve usually laughed our hearts out and filled our stomachs, and it’s time to get back to work.

4:00pm – the work day is done! If it’s Tuesday, we all take a walk down to Oxford street where our favourite bar, Republic, has happy hour and some deliciously unique cocktails (Terrible Frozen Harmattan was my go-to) – not to mention Cassava chips that will make you wonder why on earth it took you so long to figure out what cassava is, anyway. We hang out at Republic for a few hours and then each make our way to our respective corners of the city. For myself, I hop in a cab and meet my host mom at her law school, where she takes classes every evening (trotros, and especially chaotic trotro stations, are not the most fun at night).

If it’s not a Tuesday then I jump in a trotro and head back to Tema station. From there I can walk to my host sister’s school and get a ride home with whoever is picking her up. The odd time she doesn’t go to school, I trotro all the way home, which means switching cars at one of the most overwhelming places I’ve ever been – Madina Market. Madina Market is a market and a major trotro station. It’s loud, muddy and smelly, and the boys are handsy and the market women can be pushy. The trotro mates (the young men who tell you where their bus is going and take your money and call out the stops) are lively and friendly the way all high school-aged boys are when a girl walks by. It’s fun to be part of the hustle and bustle, but less fun to be its topic.

6:30-7:00pm – finally home, I dig in to the food that my host sister has made for the family and grab a seat on the couch to watch a badly-dubbed but strangely addictive Spanish TV novella with the rest of the gang. We chat about the day and before I know it, it’s time for bed.

9:00pm – time for the second shower of the day, which is expected of everyone due to the inevitable layer of dirt and sweat you pick up over the course of the day. I iron clothes for the next day, take a few minutes to myself to read or listen to music, and then crawl back under the mosquito net.

10:30pm – I’m fast asleep, ready for another 5am start and whatever adventures Wednesday brings!

Une croissance personnelle

August 12, 2014 | Rémi, POL, Jeunesse Canada Monde, Sénégal, RADDHO

Étant de retour au Canada depuis une semaine, les habitudes reprennent tranquillement leur place et la vie quotidienne se réinstalle peu à peu. Le partage d’expérience lors de la semaine de réinsertion aura permis de comprendre les anxiétés et les différentes expériences vécues par les stagiaires ayant voyagés dans d’autres pays. Tous assurément ont vécu des moments incroyables dans leur pays d’accueil.

Personnellement, chaque expérience à l’international me permet de me découvrir un peu plus moi-même. Je découvre ou redécouvre de quelle façon je me comporte face à des situations de stress ou tout simplement dans un environnement qui ne m’est pas familier. Le Sénégal m’aura permis, entre autres, de réaliser à quel point les contacts humains sont importants. Ainsi, le simple fait de prendre le temps de bien se saluer et de s’informer de l’autre personne est une habitude sénégalaise que j’espère garder avec moi. Bien que certains comportements sénégalais puissent encore aujourd’hui me laisser perplexe, cette intégration de trois mois dans la culture sénégalaise aura certainement fait de moi une meilleure personne, et ce, en essayant d’intégrer dans ma personnalité des habitudes sénégalaises qui favorisent les contacts interpersonnels.

the end

August 6, 2014 | Quinn, DVM, Uniterra, NEPAL, Aadharbhut Prasuti Sewa Hospita

How do you summarize and say good bye to an experience such as this? The ups and downs, days of joy, days of banging my head against the wall in frustration, days of desperate cheese burger cravings. I can’t believe the wealth of knowledge I’ve acquired in the last three months. From Nepali cooking to the intracies of turning a breach baby in utero it has been an amazing experience. The worse part of leaving is I feel that I have just begun to understand Kathmandu, the buses, the languages and how to actually get things done in this crazy place. I keep looking for opportunities for share what I’ve learned, but how many people truly want to know which bus to take from Balku to Jawahiel, or where you can get 30 rupee momo’s?
The staff at APS are some of the most amazing and dedicated women I have met. I can’t believe that in one weeks’ time I will have to pack my bags and leave their beautiful smiles behind. I will miss the laughs over momos, endless cups of tea, discussions of health care and language mishaps. I’m so inspired by how much these ladies achieve every single day, their unfailing kindness and wondrous dedication to APS. My boss Rashmi has had such a huge impact on my aspirations, I am honestly considering a career midwifery after my time in APS. APS has challenged me in ways I have never thought possible. It has been a rollercoaster of emotion throughout the three month, and within the course of each and every day. The nature of APS left me frustrated with the lack of direction, but it forced me to learn the true definitions of initiative and ingenuity. I am amazed at the things you can do with excel, and if I do say so myself, thoroughly impressed with the excel templates I created for APS. Aside from Excel I did everything under the sun for APS, form communication workshops, to grants and networking. I feel as though I am just beginning to see the holes in APS, and the ways to fix them. I know my mandate will included me asking what I can continue to do form them well in Canada. The potential of this organization and the amazing things they are trying to achieve make it to hard to quit cold turkey.
Although my time here has been amazing, the realities if the third word have begun to wear on me. As the end of my mandate approaches I am developing a keen sense of why expats live the way they live. The location of my work and nature of a homestay has left me leading a very ‘Nepali’ lifestyle. I can tie a sari, take the bus like a local and have become accustom to wedging myself between cows and speeding vehicles on my way to work. Though I treasure these experiences and the am very appreciative of the knowledge I have gained I don’t know if I could live such a ‘Nepali’ lifestyle if I was here for a longer period of time. At first I was a little bit ashamed of this realization, that if I was to work in development I may end living in an ‘expat suburb’ and ordering the occasional pizza from time to time, but as I digested this realization, I have slowly come to accept that that lifestyle may not be the end of the world. I am from a western country, a middle class family, for the quiet clean suburb in Vancouver – is it wrong for me to crave some sense of ‘normal’ in my new home? I feel that hitting a balance of Nepal and ‘normal’ would be extremely important, especially if you’re here for the long haul. I don’t condone disappearing into expat culture and forgetting the realities of the world around you but, I firmly believe in the right to slice of the ‘west’ in an international life.
Nepal has been a whirlwind. There are no words to truly describe my time here. This little mountain country has taught me so much, about life, about family, about babies. The best part is I can start to see it, see a career that I would be passionate about, and see where I would fit into an NGO. That realization that I have a future in development, a tangible future, lights a fire under me like never before. I’m not ready to leave Kathmandu, but I am ready to get started finishing my degree so I can get on a plane to come back.

Bittersweet Goodbye

August 6, 2014 | Andrea, DVM, Uniterra, NEPAL, Fair Trade Group Nepal

It’s official, tomorrow night I will be on my way back to Canada and the thought of this makes me both sad and excited. I have had such an incredible time in Nepal and I find it very difficult to put all my feelings into words. The last three months of living in Nepal has been a whirlwind experience. The time has just flown by and as I reflect on everything I experienced, the good and the bad, I can’t help but notice how the hectic Kathmandu lifestyle has allowed me to grow in more ways than I thought possible.

My work with FTG Nepal I was given the opportunity to meet so many different people, and together each of these individuals has helped me gain a better understanding about life in the Third World. I was impressed by each of the people I met. As I listened to their stories about how they have overcome their personal struggles, I’ve come to view my own issues in a new light. I also had the opportunity to work with FTG Nepal’s member organizations, all of which are successful businesses who are supporting the fair trade movement, putting the people and the environment before profits. Each of the businesses have a different business model, yet they each manage to produce high quality goods in a sustainable manner while providing producers with a liveable wage, as well as economic and social benefits. The present and future success of these business on the local and international market will help diversify Nepal’s economy and bring change to people’s lives.

Settling into the Kathmandu lifestyle was surprisingly easy for me. Living in Kathmandu was crazy and every morning when I walked out of the CECI passage house there was a new adventure or experience waiting. I was consistently challenged by the differences in Canada’s and Nepal’s socio-cultural norms and lifestyle, my patience was regularly tested and this ultimately allowed for enormous personal growth. I know that this internship was meant to be an educational experience related to my studies (International Development), but while living in a country that is half way around the world and so far away from the people I love, I’ve come to learn more about myself than I ever thought I would. Also, despite any frustrations that I may have had during my stay, I am very grateful for having been able to take advantage of this opportunity, to travel half-way around the world and work with truly inspiring people that have changed their lives and helped change the lives of other peoples. Nepal is a beautiful country with inspirational people, delicious food and amazing landscapes. It’s a bittersweet goodbye Nepal, but you will be missed.