Breaking & Entering

Last Sunday, Heidi and I woke up and realized that our house had been broken into overnight (or burgled as the Brits say). It had rained hard during the night, and I guess the thieves took advantage of the noise, managing to get in and out while we slept. They clearly knew what they were looking for- portable electronics and cash. The neighbours in the apartment below us woke up to a similar scene: broken window, missing electronics and a lingering sense of insecurity. We spent most of Sunday in a bit of a daze, trying to make sense of this experience. We replayed images in our minds: strangers going through our things, drawers opened with their contents strewn on the floor, Heidi's purses dumped on our balcony. This violation of our space came at a most inopportune time. Over the past few weeks, we were finally feeling a bit more settled, beginning to adapt to the rhythms of a place that is still quite strange to us. And then this happened and effectively threw us off balance. Our apartment has served as a refuge for us, allowing us to escape the reality of living in one of the poorest countries in the world; a reality that sometimes threatens to overwhelm us. When we need to forget that we live in Nepal, we can always retreat to a place that feels a bit like home. We can turn on happy music, drink a glass of wine and be filled with renewed energy. In subtle and not so subtle ways, the break-in last weekend threatened this space that we have relied on. We are doing what we can to restore the security of this space, recognizing that the process will take some time.

In addition to the fears and sense of helplessness that this experience has brought, we have also been encouraged by the many people who have expressed their support- our family and friends at home as well as our friends here. We have received emails, phone calls and visitors, reminding us that our most important assets cannot be stolen from us. Yes, it's quite annoying many of our things, some of which we had recently purchased, are now in strangers' hands, but they're just things after all. When you live so close to many people who struggle to put food on their tables, you realize that losing a computer or an ipod is not such a big deal.

Last Sunday, Heidi and I took a walk, since we needed something to do other than sitting at home thinking about the break-in. We stopped by the house of a Nepali friend. As we explained what had happened to our friend's father, a Nepali pastor who does a lot of work with handicapped people and is himself in a wheelchair, he compassionately assured us that with suffering comes blessing. Of course, we had heard these words many times before, but they held new meaning on this day, coming from this man. He read a few verses from Psalms and promised to pray for us. As we left his house and walked toward home, we saw a rainbow in the distance, the first we had seen in Nepal since on the day we arrived. We're probably both a bit too cynical to see this as a sign from God, but at least temporarily, we put aside our cynicism and felt a moment of peace.