So, I'm back from Nepal.
Warning: I talk very graphically in this story about my trip. As always, people with weak stomachs shouldn't read, or be careful on reading this.
Looks like I had to be sent home early because of my "odd behavior". I think it's for the best. When you see hundreds of dead corpses being carried away in trucks, it changes you. You think differently about the world.
I did not enjoy my trip. I was excited to go help at a country I've never been to before, but sadly, my trip turned dark pretty quick. After I landed, I saw the airport full of people, sick, hungry, basically it was like a hospital in there. We handed out crates of fruit, and bottles of water to the needy families and went on towards our outpost. I hopped into the back of a SUV and headed out 27 miles towards Nepal. I was excited to do my part, but as we reached, not even halfway towards Nepal, I could already see ruins.
Families gathered over their lost loved ones. Limbs gathered in bags, and Firemen searching ruins for any survivors. I looked away until I reached our outpost. A small tent was set up with hundreds of people lined up in front of a large table. We had to tell them a truck would be here with the load.
3 hours later...
The truck finally arrived carrying a lot of food. We quickly unloaded them and handed them out to the people. I saw them going into an area which was out of my sight. Upon moving enough to see where they were going, I found out we also had a few small medical tents, where the hurt were sent to, because of the destroyed hospitals in the area. I was told to just unload the crates and to not interfere with the locals. After about an hour of back breaking work, I was told to go see if anyone in the medical tents needed some help. I walked in one, and immediately saw just how bad this earthquake was.
The scent of dying bodies was so overwhelming, I quickly went back outside to tell them I wasn't well today for the job. They said it was OK.
At about what seemed like the middle of the night, we went to our rest tents, which had small beds that looked like trampolines. We were quickly able to sleep.
The next day, I woke up and went outside to see more people lined up for food. I told them they had to wait, and they started screaming Nepali at me, I believe that is what their language is called. I told the adults, and I went inside the medical tent.
The one thing... The one thing I will never forget is a small girl, who looked like around 7 was lying in a bed by herself. I walked up to her and asked her in English, "Where are your parents?".
No reply.
I tried in French "Ou sont tes parents?"
No reply.
I took out Google Translate and translated English to their language. I pressed the "Say Out loud" button, and she looked up at me. I asked her again with the app, and asked her to speak into the phone so I can understand what she is saying. She said something like "Svargama"
That translated to "Heaven"...
Hours later, I went crazy. I had mental breakdowns at lunch and during the passing of food. I was told to head to the airport and take a flight back home. I did so.
I'm back in the comfort of my house, but still left with the memory of those who perished. The people I saw on the way, the girl's parents... Gone.
It's driven me mad until just now. I'm sane again, but still left traumatized. I felt like I didn't do my part enough, so I gave up 90,000 euros to the Red Cross, to support something I couldn't handle.
" I'm back. But not the same"
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