Here's a scenario for you;
You've just arrived in Kathmandu and while walking around the chaotic streets, you stop to check you map. As you do so, a young guy (maybe around 30-ish) kindly offers you directions to where you want to go. He then makes small talk with you while walking with you to your nearby destination. He tells you he's from India, but is studying in Nepal and likes to spend his free-time chatting with foreigner to improve his English. He assures you several times that he doesn't want any money from you, but instead offers to show you around town so that he can practice his English. You notice that he already speaks English very well, but agree, somewhat reluctantly, to let him accompany you.
You've just arrived in Kathmandu and while walking around the chaotic streets, you stop to check you map. As you do so, a young guy (maybe around 30-ish) kindly offers you directions to where you want to go. He then makes small talk with you while walking with you to your nearby destination. He tells you he's from India, but is studying in Nepal and likes to spend his free-time chatting with foreigner to improve his English. He assures you several times that he doesn't want any money from you, but instead offers to show you around town so that he can practice his English. You notice that he already speaks English very well, but agree, somewhat reluctantly, to let him accompany you.
You spend the next few hours being shown some great corners of Kathmandu... some you'd never have seen otherwise, and he even shows you how to navigate the insanely crowded public bus system! Together, you head towards the Tibetan quarter of Bodnath, where, he tells you, there is a festival on that day. Once again, you're given an insight into local life that you couldn't have possibly discovered on your own. At the end of the afternoon, you consider buying him lunch in return for all he has shown you, but instead, he insists that you accompany him to his house to meet his family and drink some chai. Tired of always turning down invitations like this, you figure 'why not?'... plus you've spent the whole day with this guy and he seems cool enough. You follow him the 5 mins it takes to get to his neighbourhood, but soon realise that the apartment buildings you were expecting him to live in, were now behind you, and that the reasonably well dressed guy you'd spent the day with, was leading you to him home in a Kathmandu slum. Suddenly, you're surrounded by shelters made of plastic sheeting and other scraps and you're confronted by the sight of poverty that's more extreme than anything you've ever seen in your life.
You meet his wife and their 3 young children, his sister and her 2 kids, and you realise that all 8 of them share this tiny, tiny shack. It grows increasingly difficult for you to hide your shock at what's before your eyes. Hearing his 2 year olds terrible cough, you're compelled to offer your help... but before you get a chance to do so, he tells you a story about corrupt police officers confiscating his livelihood - a shoe shining/repair box. At this point you feel like maybe something isn't quite right, but then think that (a) maybe you are too cynical, and (b) there's a family in front of you living in abject poverty and any contribution you offer could make a difference - even just a small one. So, you offer some money... but your host refuses the cash, suggesting instead that you could help him by replacing his shoe-shining box. You agree to make a contribution and minutes later, a man with a shoe-shining box for sale shows up. Convenient. Twenty minutes later, the box has been purchased and you are shown back to the bus stand... apparently no longer required.
So, that was our first day in Nepal... At times we feel like we were royally duped, but at the same time, this dude and his family live in a really horrible slum and if our money helped them in any way at all, then we're ok with that... even if the money wasn't really used to buy his shoe-shining box. You may think we were stupid, and maybe we were, but once we saw the way this guy lived, there was no way in hell we could have gone back to our comfortable, clean hotel room without giving him some money.
What would you have done?
You meet his wife and their 3 young children, his sister and her 2 kids, and you realise that all 8 of them share this tiny, tiny shack. It grows increasingly difficult for you to hide your shock at what's before your eyes. Hearing his 2 year olds terrible cough, you're compelled to offer your help... but before you get a chance to do so, he tells you a story about corrupt police officers confiscating his livelihood - a shoe shining/repair box. At this point you feel like maybe something isn't quite right, but then think that (a) maybe you are too cynical, and (b) there's a family in front of you living in abject poverty and any contribution you offer could make a difference - even just a small one. So, you offer some money... but your host refuses the cash, suggesting instead that you could help him by replacing his shoe-shining box. You agree to make a contribution and minutes later, a man with a shoe-shining box for sale shows up. Convenient. Twenty minutes later, the box has been purchased and you are shown back to the bus stand... apparently no longer required.So, that was our first day in Nepal... At times we feel like we were royally duped, but at the same time, this dude and his family live in a really horrible slum and if our money helped them in any way at all, then we're ok with that... even if the money wasn't really used to buy his shoe-shining box. You may think we were stupid, and maybe we were, but once we saw the way this guy lived, there was no way in hell we could have gone back to our comfortable, clean hotel room without giving him some money.
What would you have done?
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