What Am I Doing Here?

This is a question I get asked a lot, whether it be from people in the United States or people in Nepal. So, what kind of work are you doing? What field do you work in? tapaai ke kaam gardaihunchha? What are you trying to achieve? These are good questions. These are questions that I ask myself everyday.

I can answer in a literal sense. Starting on Friday, I will be working for the Poverty Alleviation Fund, which declares itself an autonomous institution (as opposed to a non-governmental organization, government organization or donor organization), whose primary goal is to reduce extreme forms of poverty in the program's districts. Specifically, I will most likely be working in agriculture and promoting a certain kind of rice farming methodology called SRI (http://ciifad.cornell.edu/sri/). Evidence shows that this really works, and increases rice yields at least 50-100%. I haven't started work yet, so once I do I will further inform you on what my job entails.

There is an ideological issue that also corresponds with this "what are you doing?" question. And that is, really, what am I doing? Who am I to say I know anything about this place or what life is really like? Is my presence and eagerness to "change" the world for the "better" a new form of western imperialism and colonialism? The reinvention of the white mans burden? Do I do more harm than help? Who am I to govern what direction public policy, government or civil society moves in this country? How much do I really know about this place, its culture, its people, its food, its religion, its language? Why do people care more about what I have to say than what my Nepali friends have to say? Why does success have to correspond with how well someone knows English? What kind of values do I consciously or unconsciously promote? With my pale skin, my brown hair, and my (summer) freckles, I represent the West. It doesn't matter how much of the language I know, how long I've been here or how many Nepali friends I have. I am still a bideshi, a foreigner. Thus, I constantly battle with my role here. I know I will always battle with this role. I think it is important to keep wrestling with this issue, and understand that it is an area of ambiguity. What I should or should not do changes upon the situation.

One of my professor's told me, “Grace is like rain. It falls on everyone. The key is to realize that one is receiving it, cup ones hand to collect it, and then spread it around." When we spread such grace around, we must tread very lightly. We must always evaluate and reevaluate what we are doing because the consequences of our actions reach far beyond our sight and our control.

And what I do know, is that I've come here to learn.