Saturday, June 28, 2008

These are not my hands, and this is not my bike

This is Jivan (JEE-ban), who's taking apart and putting back together a V-brake from a bike owned by my friend Isabelle--a bike where the brakes' springs were so damaged that Jagat (jÉ™-GAT--below) broke one not by adjusting it but by touching it.





I know: I was watching the whole time. And then I broke another, so I got to ride the bike back to Kathmandu with only the front brake working.

The best part was that I got to ride down this, which has leeches:



House at the top=starting point.

Tree at the lowest point=bottom.

Leeches=everywhere.

And I get to do this every week!

Thursday, June 26, 2008

Changes at Wrench Nepal

A lot has happened—and changed—in the last 11 weeks.

Tom had to go home (because of his illness) before I got here, leaving the shop in the care of a Nepali bike mechanic named Gopal. When I came about a month later, just before the elections in early April, all that was left was the physical shop: Diwakar, Maan, and Krishna, the interns, were all gone; Gopal had rarely come, and something serious enough happened between him and Maan that when I was finally able to track down Maan's whereabouts 3 weeks later, he wanted nothing to do with Wrench Nepal ever again. Gopal gave back his keys and that was that.

As you might imagine, flying to a foreign land, far from my support network and a place where I had never been before and knew no one, to find that the program that I had come for was in shambles and the whole country closed for days for the elections...was a stressful time, for me.

Nonetheless, I've been doing my best to put things together in a better, more sustainable model than the one I inherited.

One of the issues with the earlier incarnation of Wrench Nepal was that it was set up as (or similar to) a primary social support mechanism for the interns. In other, more direct, words, Diwakar had nowhere else to go—though of course he had friends and ways of getting or scamming his basic needs—and Maan had only his drop-in center. This proved problematic when things broke down between Tom's departure and my arrival: the shop was closed when it was supposed to be open, and who could the kids go to? For whatever issues Gopal and Maan had, who could Maan ask to intercede on his behalf and restore peace?

(Krishna, if you're wondering, more or less had guardians, but was caught sniffing glue and stealing from shops in nearby Buddhanilkantha. His guardians gave him a choice between that way of life and staying in their house, and he left.)

So a new model has been emerging: Wrench Nepal partners with local and locally-directed organizations to provide specific skills and trainings to the kids within them. Our current partners are:

  • Prisoners Assistance Nepal. Currently I teach one class per week with the wards at the PA Nepal house and school up in Sakhu, about 20 km northeast of Kathmandu, kids who—though innocent—would otherwise be in jail with an incarcerated parent, typically a mother. It's a Dickensian system, really. These are kids who are deeply stigmatized in much of Nepali society because of their parents—kids are not just unprovided for, but are the victims of prejudice for years to come.

  • Nepal Rugmark Foundation. Nepal Rugmark rehabilitates former child laborers from the carpet industry and girls who have been trafficked, and gives them life skills and vocational training. Because many of these kids have been working for many years by the time they are rescued, they are desperately and usually irreparably behind in their schooling. So many of Nepal Rugmark's kids wanted to participate that I had to set up two sections on different days to accommodate them all, at the home and school in Sinamangal, Kathmandu.

The next challenge is going to be what to do with a heap of kids who've learned the basics of fixing bikes!