Why are you still here?

When Rose and I decided to write a blog together, we didn’t exactly plan to write an earthquake blog. But that was before….

On April 25, 2015 I was sitting in a small Nepali church with ~100 people. At 11:56 a.m. the power cut off. And then the ground began to shake. Within seconds we were all running for the door, but unable to get there. I was knocked to the ground four times before I finally yelled to my friend Carly, “Get down!” That was safer than trying to escape, I reasoned. But I couldn’t be certain. Would the building collapse?

Carly and I laid there together, praying for the earth to stop moving. She held a plastic chair over our heads. Really. The earth kept moving up and down, back and forth. The walls and the floor looked liquid, tossing us with unbelievable ease. I’m told it lasted two minutes. Finally it slowed. We made a scramble for the door on all fours and shakily up the stairs to find the rest of our community regrouping. We were all okay. Thank God. Thousands were not.

Now, it seems I’m regularly asked, “Why are you still here?” Rose gets a similar question, “So, are you still moving to Nepal?” And lets be honest, in the midst of a strong aftershock I ask myself the same. But the answer comes quickly:

Because we’re in this together.

I’ve lived in Nepal for more than a year now, and Rose has visited several times in preparation to move here long-term on August 1^st. This is our community, Nepalis and foreigners alike. We cook together, drink tea together, friends and neighbors sharing life. We speak words of humor, sadness, truth and encouragement to one another. We ride the bus together (for hours, let me tell you), talking about our homes and families and politics and religion. We work together, in equal partnership, to improve healthcare in Nepal. These friends are like family. We take care of each other.

And while our initial blog ideas included stories from mountain treks, remote medicine, cultural beauty as well as our own blunders, things have certainly changed. Oh, we’ll still include those themes as well, but now, it seems our lives and work will be shaped by the earthquake for years, if not decades, to come. And we’re not going anywhere. Not that we know of, at least. We’re surrounded by family, friends, colleagues, and communities—both American and Nepali—who are in this with us. Here to stay. Together.