4 Nov 2010: Moving Ghane

The next day, I get to Paropakar around 9 a.m., carrying with me a water, some biscuits, the few toys that I brought for Ghane and more wet napkins.

We spend the morning talking and playing; Ghane is in a good mood and I notice that she’s not only used to my presence now, she’s also a lot more active than the day before, trying to lift her arms and not stiffening when I touch her.

I call CWIN several times during the morning, as today is the day we move Ghane, as soon as they have the paperwork ready for Paropakar’s Director. Today’s also the day where I’m joined by Line and Mads, Berlingske’s journalist and photographer, who will do a follow-up article on their first tale about Ghane.

Finally, around 3 p.m., the CWIN-guy shows up – only to tell me that Ghane will not be moved today, because the Director of Paropakar is not in her office!

Facing a 4-day festival with everything being closed and nothing happening in official Nepal, I refuse to accept this piece of information. Surely, there must be a deputy we can talk to?

As we walk to the deputy’s office - Line and Mads having now arrived - I can sense that the CWIN-president is more than miffed, and that I have offended his pride. I try to explain that this has nothing to do with him, I’m pushy by nature and just want to ensure that his great work getting the papers ready is not wasted.

The deputy calls Director Dr. Lata on the phone, and she basically says “go” over the phone, but we have to wait for her in person. The CWIN-guy is then told that I haven’t been seen leaving Ghane since I arrived this morning, thus haven’t had anything to eat or drink, and this is apparently a big deal for the Nepalese – I am therefore placed in the doctor’s canteen at Paropakar and served a meal of soup and bread.

To me, my personal needs right now are utterly irrelevant, as we have bigger things to do – like moving Ghane – but no, one has to eat, no matter whether the world is falling apart around us, seems to be the Nepalese approach.

I wolf down my soup and tap my fingers as the CWIN-man slowly eats his portion. We finally then get to Dr. Lata’s office, she arrives, and signs the wrinkled piece of paper – with handwritten sentences added to it – that apparently is the “paperwork” making it all happen.

After this, I’m free to go downstairs and pick up Ghane, take her out into the open where she has probably never been, away from Paropakar forever. This is the biggest moment!

It is what I do, and while we wait in the hospital courtyard for the ambulance to arrive, I’m disgusted by the obviously different boundaries between Westerners and the Nepalese: people gather around Ghane and bring out their cell phones to take snapshots of her abnormal appearance; they treat her like a freakshow, and I end up shouting at everyone to show some respect, waiving them away from her with my arms. They don’t understand my anger at all.

After what seems forever, the ambulance pulls up, and we drive for 5 bumpy minutes from Paropakar to Annapurna, me with Ghane in my arms, literally taking her destiny into my hands and leading her to a different life which I have decided for her. But so had others for her life before this, and whatever is to come, we are giving her a chance.

 

Safe in bed at Annapurna’s public ward (the private room is not available until tomorrow), Ghane falls asleep and I go out to get drunk with Line and Mads – because this big break-through is worth celebrating, I am proud of my perseverance – and right now, I need to relax and just forget about tomorrow!