The Six-Fingered Monk and the Men of Saudi
Nepal was beautiful the home I was at I compared to paradise, but time had passed ant it was time to go home. On my way to the airport in Nepal I was given a proper Nepali goodbye. I stood in the doorway and Sanjay's mom gave me a blessing as she put the red paint on my forehead. She then placed an apple in my hand and a flower on my head then a scarf on my shoulders. As I walked downstairs the family downstairs the placed another scarf on me and off I went. The ritual is done so that you can go and return safely.
On the way to the airport, I told Sanjay "I hope that I don't see anyone going to Saudi, or I will just have to convince them to turn back around". He knew what I was talking about. Back at BYU, I had read several articles and stories about Nepali men who go to the Gulf countries to go work, but who face mistreatment (to put it nicely) and many die due to lack of safety.
Once I got in the airport and had to go through security, the lines are separated male and female. This is because they don't have the technology that we do so they have to do security the old fashion way with pat downs. Anyways the male line was about 10:1. At first, I thought "This is gender inequality at its best." This is due to the fact that females are in many ways invisible in Nepal. (Which reminds me I didn't talk about my day at the woman's shelter!, for another day)
Anyways got through security and sat down next to a group of Nepali men. They asked me where I was going I said "home". And then I asked where they were going they replied, with excitement "Saudi" . My jaw dropped, I said, "You are joking!". He said again still with a smile "No, that is where I am going", then looked over at his friends, "We all are going there." I suddenly didn't know what to say, but feeling my heart pumping said, "I am so sorry." His smile faded and looked confused and I simply walked away. As I walked away an announcement was made that a plane going to Qatar was ready to board. I saw then saw a long line of men slowly walk up and fill the plane all headed to Qatar. That wasn't the last plane I saw headed to the Gulf, my plane ended up being delayed for 5 hours. In that time I saw plane after plane headed to the Gulf. Seeing their faces, fear excitement and insecurity were overwhelming for me.
I started to think about what I originally said, "I will just have to convince them to turn back around." I realized how childish it was. I remembered a question my seminary teacher asked us. He asked us "what would we do if we ended up back in time with our current knowledge and you were placed right on the spot where people are entering the Titanic?" We all said we would stop the people warn them of what was to come. Now I can no longer remember what he was teaching or his point he was trying to get across, but I do remember thinking about it and being so sure that I would stop the people and save their lives.
But as fate would have it I was then placed in a similar situation and then I realized something that my high school self was incapable of knowing, even myself a brief moment before on the car ride to the airport was incapable of knowing. You can't stop anyone. Whether they are heading on a borage of the Titanic, or on a plane into enslavement it is just too cruel to stop them. You can't tell people to abandon their dreams, hopes, and aspirations of helping themselves and their families to get ahead; just because of something you have read. As I saw them load the plane I felt absolutely helpless. The feeling intensified with each plane departure, plane after plane after plane of people going to the gulf. Even worse I was with the people on my plane ( they had a layover in India then were headed to Saudi) for even longer. Getting to know them was putting a face to all those numbers I read in the articles. It was stressful and exhausting just being there and getting to know them.
There was another strange thing I noticed. All the Nepali headed to other countries had the red marking and the scarf around their neck from the traditional departure blessing. However, the men going to the Golf had none. I finally asked one of the men headed to Saudi on my plane why they didn't have the scarf or the marking. He responded that it was forbidden to have such things on their arrival to the Golf, being that the Gulf countries were Muslim countries. I looked around at all the men and asked myself, "How many of these men won't return? And to die being robbed of their culture, leaving home without a blessing."
In the midst of all this, I became friends with a Buddhist monk, not just any Buddhist monk, but this Monk had 6 fingers on each hand and one foot had 6 toes. We became close because we were there together so long. When we parted he said I had to come visit him in India and that he hopped someday I would become a Buddhist :)
In India I just wanted to get away from anyone going to Saudi, we had to part ways with all the people going to Saudi while in customs. Seeing them again was just too much for me. I sat down and started hearing an Indian complain, literally yelling about not getting the seat he wanted on a plane that was delayed. I looked at him and gave him the dirtiest look imaginable. I just thought, "You have NOTHING to complain about". He looked at me and quieted down. I walked away found a seat and then turned and saw all my Nepali friends show up, they all waved at me and then left to go load a plane... headed to Saudi.
I arrived in England and was relieved to get away from it all. It was so stressful it was nice to just relax and walk through the beautiful streets of London. Ironically the first guy I ran into was from Bolivia and could only speak Spanish, he told me where to go. I go to see all the sights except for the palace.
On a side note, when I got home. Sanjay informed me that after the dropped me off a few caskets were carried out of the airport. Bodies of those who didn't survive.
