Dr. C in Nepal: Finding the right tone in a disaster zone
It's late in Kathmandu.
I'm covered from head to toe in soot and dust and sweat.
The day was hot, driving back from the village was hell, and I'm tired.
We were in the village of Nuwakot where I was meeting with 10 doctors based in Kathmandu who have set up an organization that does rural outreach.
On the way back, our car got stuck in the mud twice. The first time, we all got out and pushed the hulking SUV through it.
The car inched forward triumphantly but any sense of victory we had was buried underneath the layers of dirt that covered us.
The second time, we had help from 10 local Nepali workers who just decided, in the goodness of their own hearts, to get us out of the blistering heat.
Even though I basically begged them, they wouldn't even accept any money for their work!
Do people expect to see suffering?
Maybe the world isn't such a terrible place after all, I think hopefully.
Back at the hotel in Kathmandu, I sat down at my desk and opened up my computer.
I open an email from a close friend, who's helping me monitor social media for the documentary I am making.
He says our Instagram account is too bright. That people who follow social media don't like that. They expect suffering and they want to see more misery.
They didn't want to see me or other people in Nepal…. happy.
"People are expecting a disaster zone with you helping while also suffering," My friend told me astutely. "I know that's not you, but can you at least tone it down?"
I … was …so …angry.
Not at my friend, but because I wonder if it's true.
What if he's right, and all people want to read and see is horrible stuff?
Seeing life at its extremes
It's something you probably don't think about in the run of your day, but I'm seeing how that attitude impacts what's happening here in Nepal.
Images and stories of disaster and destruction are major parts of fundraising campaigns for big aid organizations and for the government here.
Yes, some things are truly devastating. I've walked Lang Tang where I've been haunted by abandoned children's shoes and pots and pans. Where bodies and vertebrae can still be seen.
But I've also been in the hustle and bustle of Kathmandu, running around in the wild night and watching locals eat street food and laugh. I hear a cover of CCR's Proud Mary blaring from the pub across from my hotel. The rickshaw and taxi drivers are still trying to rip me off like I'm fresh in the country.
So really — some parts of life here are OK — or at least the same as they were before the earthquake.
Many people who were most affected by the earthquakes received the least timely help. Some are still waiting.
On the other hand, let me tell you something else that's common knowledge here. Nepal is ranked 126 out of 175 countries for perception of corruption. And my God, does it show.
There is money in this country, but the inequality between the rich and the poor, the urban and the rural communities is shocking.
Many people who were most affected by the earthquakes received the least timely help. Some are still waiting. That's despite the money flowing in through international organizations and the government.
So, depending on their circumstances, people in Nepal have experienced the earthquake and its aftereffects in many different ways.
I know this is depressing.
What do we do about it? Just think.
Think about how you feel about what I've just told you. Think about what you hear and watch and read. Think about negative images, international aid, and charity in general.
I've seen entire villages wiped off the map. I've also had a bunch of locals help me and my friends out of the mud for free. This is the same country, the same trip.
I'm not sure what to think anymore.