From a letter home dated May 6, 2003:
A blind man stumbled into our compound several weeks ago. I'm not sure why wandering nomads have latched on to our residence; however, we have seen our fair share over the past 20 months. This blind man was attracted by the sound of a wedding that was taking place across the street in a poor Muslim family's compound. He entered the open gate and sat down beside the concrete porch that has housed other travelers. Wearing a coat even though the temperature was warm he sat sprawled with his two burlap sacks resting beside him and began to cry out. "I am blind and have no family. I am hungry. Please give me food." He yelled for 2 hours before someone responded by giving him a plate of food (complete with meat, which is a real delicacy in this area of Nepal) from the wedding.
I didn't really know what was happening until work ended and my cook Kanchi told me that the older man had been crying out asking for food throughout much of the afternoon. After our workers left and the office was quiet, I observed that he had pulled out several empty bottles that he wanted filled with water. Several curious people crowded around. Many kids were scared of him. He cried out that he needed water, so one of our remaining workers and I helped him. I remembered how good some of the homeless people feel in the US when they have a chance to bathe, so I brought him a bucket of water and soap for him to wash his face, hair, and feet. It wasn't appropriate for me to help him wash his body. Some people would have argued that it wasn't appropriate for a foreign woman to help him at all.
What I loved seeing was the man's smile after he washed and the neighbors' response. Once the neighbors realized that there was nothing to fear, that this man was just like them, they began offering him things. He asked for a cigarette, so one woman gave him one that she had stashed in a bag that she took to the fields to work that morning. Someone else gave him his evening meal. When the blind man lay back content as the village quieted down and began singing songs from the hill areas of Nepal, the man who takes care of the water buffalo, cows, and goats in the compound told him to keep singing, that he was listening and enjoyed the music. A day later when it was time for him to go (he spent the day after the day I have described sleeping), I heard a woman on the street invite him in for his morning tea.
Although some time has passed, I keep thinking about the events on this afternoon that the blind man found us. What strikes me the most is how essential it is to the man's survival that he let others know exactly what he needs. Each day he has to repeat his request in a new place. I wonder if others are scared of people like the blind man because they recognize that they could be the beneficiary of equal bad luck some day. Also, I wonder if they just don't know how to initiate contact. I guess we are all waiting for someone else to take the first step. Anyway, these events highlighted for me the importance of communicating with others. If we want others to help us, it is important for us to communicate our needs. These are words I keep telling myself, a person who has a very hard time asking for help.
