I can't begin to describe how amazing my last 24 hours in Pokhara were. But, I'll try my best to do so.
I woke up and couldn't help but shake my heads. When did it get to be the 20th February 2012? When did it get to be my last day in Pokhara? I didn't have plans. I've grown not to have plans in Nepal. I just knew I wanted to buy some pants and get a scrumptious, fresh apple juice from my favourite cafe near the lake. I had 9 hours to complete my task. I think I could manage.
After buying all my bits and bobs, I sat down for my apple juice and met one of the loveliest blokes around. It's a tad unfortunate that the tourists here aren't that friendly to each other, but e was a dime a dozen! It gets lonely eating on your own and I was so thankful to have a fabulous Aussie to chill with.
I had spent my morning thinking about a conversation with a local Tibetan guy a few days earlier. He was telling me about a local midwife who looks after a whole village. At the time I couldn't help but think if I had more time, I'd love to meet her and try and get some details in case I came back. After finishing my apple juice I walked home for the last time, shedding a tear because locals were smiling at me. I was accepted. I made it my mission to leave some kind of a note for this guy to contact me in regards to the midwife. Boy is God good.
I walked into the camp and he was sitting outside his uncles shop. Already winning. Asked him if I could give him my details so he could send me the midwives details. No probs. He upped me. "Want to go visit her?" Royal flush.
Not even an hour later I was on the back of his bike riding 45mins out into the beautiful country side of Pokhara. It was too far away from where I was staying to be able to travel this distance everyday. I doubted. It was beautiful though. Winding up a very steep mountain and feeling the chill in the air, we arrived. Five meters one side, mountain goes down, five meters on the other side, mountain goes down. I am literally perched at the top of the world. I am in love!
I am filled in that there are three midwives who look after a village with a population of 10,000 people. It's estimated that there are 312 pregnant women at any one time. They aren't backyard midwives. They work at a small health post run by the government. If the women need further attention, they go by ambulance to hospital. Otherwise, they deliver at the top of the world at the health post. The midwives are on call and work in a threadbare work place. I'm flat on my back. This is home! I have a 90 day visa, I can stay for another month no problems.
I had the chance to ask the main midwife what they need in hope that I can gather some funds and send stuff to them every so often. Although the health post is government funded, the funding is slow and pathetic. They need everything, from baby clothes and blankets, a cot, gauze, sterile gloves, umbilical cord clamps, equipment, a heater (imagine laboring at the top of a mountain, at midnight, in winter, being naked and only having a few coals for heating!!), everything. I can help.
Next, there is a guest house fifty meters down the road. Someone get me a cup of tea, I'm home. To top it off, fill out a simple form, post it to an office in Kathmandu, get approved (relatively simple) and your free to volunteer. Oh man. Just when I thought this trip was over, with no idea of where to go next doing what I've dreamt of doing, this comes along. God is good. Beyond good. Faithful.
I can't be more glad that I took that chance. I'm in awe.
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