September 22, 2006
Christmas
already?
It's Christmas Eve here - or the Nepali equivalent. Tomorrow the biggest festival of the year starts and goes for 10 days. Schools, businesses and government all shut down.
Tonight when I was working at a video studio here in Pokhara, the electricity shut down, too. Scheduled 'load-shedding' interrupts our work weekly, but unscheduled blackouts have plagued us every day.
I know you haven't heard from us in a couple of months. I'd like to tell you about the work we do as business people in Nepal. We are annually given a year's visa from the government to perform on the business plan submitted by our software company. Our calling is to help God's kingdom grow to the uttermost parts of the Himalayan foothills and 25% of our time we fulfill it as business professionals.
For 2 years, our business has been shooting and editing a documentary about tourist sites and services in west Nepal. The Lord has been wonderfully opening doors of relationship to the business, community and government "power brokers." Yesterday, we had a premiere showing of our documentary at the Pokhara Tourism Convention. To my surprise, the Nepal Minister of Culture, Tourism and Civil Aviation awarded me a plaque recognizing my "outstanding contribution" to tourism development (see the photo). For special honor, red paint was also smeared on my forehead. I was assured that it didn't symbolize Hindu worship -- although the ceremony was opened by lighting candles to a Ganesh idol (Ganesh is the Hindu god that supposedly blesses business ventures).
Regular Business Day?
In case this business environment sounds exotic to you, let me give you a glimpse of a work day for me. I drive my motorcycle through pouring rain (it is still monsoon season) to the tiny 2-bedroom apartment in town where my video editor, Jacob, and his family live. His computer and editing equipment fill the bedroom next to the "squatty" toilet room which reeks all day long. Cockroaches run in and out of his keyboard as Jacob types and he explains, "They like to eat the rubber inside." I stamp my bare feet on the concrete floor (one doesn't wear shoes indoors) to keep the creatures from crawling too high up my legs.
Jacob's wife comes into the room burning candles and incense to their gods. The gods don't appear pleased because soon the electricity shuts off and we lose a whole hour of work. I ask Jacob how long he expects before power returns and he picks up the phone. The phone network drops call after call, but finally he reaches the city office and is told, "It's maintenance time." Jacob rolls his eyes and tells me it may be an hour or two. You never get the truth from the office.
I tell Jacob I'm going home. "Call me when the power comes back." I head back out in the rain on my motorcycle, weaving down a muddy, potholed lane before arriving at a paved street. The street is closed off, blockaded by protestors. Unknown to me, a city-wide protest had been called today and no motorized vehicles of any sort were allowed on any streets.
Apparently a truck driver had run over a man on the street yesterday, and when backing up to run over and finish him off (the customary way to avoid paying hospital costs for the person you injured), an angry mob beat up the driver and set fire to the truck.
Today's protest was called by the owner of the truck and everyone in the city complied... except me. I sneak my motorcycle down more back alleys and across fields towards my end of Pokhara. The problem is, I have to cross a main bridge that is packed with crowds of protestors. I hope they consider me an ignorant foreigner and let me pass, but as I start winding through them, people start shouting at me. I've never seen anger like that directed at a foreigner. A policeman with a whistle and stick motions to me. I stop and explain to him that I'm just trying to get home for lunch. Suddenly, an angry young man comes and pulls the keys out of my bike and starts walking away. I wonder if I should chase him down but the policeman tells me to wait. He'll take care of it. It takes 10-15 minutes of arguing and cajoling before my keys are returned. I stick them in my pocket and push my motorcycle down a back street toward my house. I am paying the penalty for pushing the limits of acceptable behavior on the streets of Pokhara today. Productivity is possible only by working at home until the protest is called off.
Uncontrollable factors like riots, revolutions and rolling blackouts have stretched our expected 3-4 months of work on the documentary into 6-8 months scattered over 2 years. Since mid-August, I have focused on preparing for 2 deadlines:
1) yesterday's premiere showing at the tourism convention;
2) getting 800 DVD copies manufactured in time for our business partners to take to the U.S. when they go on furlough next month.
We're going to make that second deadline, just like the first... by the grace of God, not the grace of "the gods." Tomorrow morning at 6:30am, I will head back toward Jacob's editing "studio" on my motorcycle come rain or shine (but not street protests). Though the big Dashain festival and holiday starts tomorrow, I'm working to send some DVDs to the U.S. and Canada with my business partners. Let me know if you're interested in purchasing a copy for yourself.
Having described aspects of our "professional" business in Nepal, I would love to report on our work among the poor, powerless and persecuted believers in the village areas of Nepal. For now, I'll just summarize and say that Bible storying is empowering more of them for life and ministry and bringing good fruit in more and more areas. I also need to tell you about Hanna's growth as a teacher but better save these things for the next e-newsletter.
Thank you for your prayers and support in friendship and finances. We so greatly appreciate you. May you be blessed in your going and coming and may no one steal your keys on the way!
Thankful for you,
Ron and Hanna