I'm sitting at a chai stand waiting for a friend to arrive from Delhi. Just off the main square there is an old man that 'literally' peeps out of a hole in the wall. He makes a delightful chai tea and some simple boiled eggs.
Approximately two minutes ago a little girl I have seen for the past 3 morning arrives with her grandmother and a man who could be her father who carries her box of fresh Tibetan bread. It's 5.43am in the morning and this little girls sits here to sell the fresh Tibetan bread to passers by. Right now there is not so many people walking by so she talks from her little seat to this old man and a customer from the chai stand about, only they know what, but I'm guessing it was to use the old mans broom to clean her little space, he offers her water to wash her hands. She sits patiently with her father and grandmother.
This place really makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Did this little girl stay up late last night or wake up early this morning to make the bread to sit here in fairly chilly weather to make a small income for her own pocket money or for her family. Again, only they will know. Only I can draw conclusions.
She natters away in the softest little voice, that eludes to a stranger like me, innocence, youthful wisdom and independence. I would love to talk to her in Tibetan... But I might try with English. :)
Maybe if I had tried Nepalese. She wasn't Tibetan at all. Selling the Tibetan bread threw me. She spoke very little English but understood the basics, how old are you? do you have brothers and sisters? Etc.
So how her story goes. She wakes up at 1am to make 160 pieces of the freshest Tibetan sweet bread ever with her mother and father to sit here for almost 3 hours before she heads to school at 8am. She sells it for 6 Rupees per piece. I pay her 60 rupees every time because she is a sweet kid earning an honest living and she wouldn't be sitting there if she didn't need to. She has 2 sisters 1 is 15 and the other is 5 and two brothers 1 that is 2 and the other I'm not sure I missed his age.
Can you believe it. This little Nepalese angel sits here selling bread for 3 hours before she goes to school.
At 12 years old, I was dragging my self out of bed at 7 in the morning in my perfectly ironed uniform to catch the bus and hang out with friends at the train station before school and maybe grabbing a McDonald's hash brown and an OJ before sitting in an all girls catholic school receiving a high quality education... Again, It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not with pity, or guilt but with a sudden urge to selflessly serve and perhaps teach English to young children of the world. Educate them in real world survival, something they can use to apply to their own life and perhaps one day run their own business and travel the world and consider themselves lucky and pass on their knowledge and so the process continues.
Approximately two minutes ago a little girl I have seen for the past 3 morning arrives with her grandmother and a man who could be her father who carries her box of fresh Tibetan bread. It's 5.43am in the morning and this little girls sits here to sell the fresh Tibetan bread to passers by. Right now there is not so many people walking by so she talks from her little seat to this old man and a customer from the chai stand about, only they know what, but I'm guessing it was to use the old mans broom to clean her little space, he offers her water to wash her hands. She sits patiently with her father and grandmother.
This place really makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside.
Did this little girl stay up late last night or wake up early this morning to make the bread to sit here in fairly chilly weather to make a small income for her own pocket money or for her family. Again, only they will know. Only I can draw conclusions.
She natters away in the softest little voice, that eludes to a stranger like me, innocence, youthful wisdom and independence. I would love to talk to her in Tibetan... But I might try with English. :)
Maybe if I had tried Nepalese. She wasn't Tibetan at all. Selling the Tibetan bread threw me. She spoke very little English but understood the basics, how old are you? do you have brothers and sisters? Etc.
So how her story goes. She wakes up at 1am to make 160 pieces of the freshest Tibetan sweet bread ever with her mother and father to sit here for almost 3 hours before she heads to school at 8am. She sells it for 6 Rupees per piece. I pay her 60 rupees every time because she is a sweet kid earning an honest living and she wouldn't be sitting there if she didn't need to. She has 2 sisters 1 is 15 and the other is 5 and two brothers 1 that is 2 and the other I'm not sure I missed his age.
Can you believe it. This little Nepalese angel sits here selling bread for 3 hours before she goes to school.
At 12 years old, I was dragging my self out of bed at 7 in the morning in my perfectly ironed uniform to catch the bus and hang out with friends at the train station before school and maybe grabbing a McDonald's hash brown and an OJ before sitting in an all girls catholic school receiving a high quality education... Again, It makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Not with pity, or guilt but with a sudden urge to selflessly serve and perhaps teach English to young children of the world. Educate them in real world survival, something they can use to apply to their own life and perhaps one day run their own business and travel the world and consider themselves lucky and pass on their knowledge and so the process continues.
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