Questioning consumerism and the importance of locally led development
Originally written and publish on June 28th, 2024
365 days ago, I left Nepal to return to the US, marking an important moment in which I reflected on my life back home.
Leaving Nepal was not an easy decision, yet in my 365 days back in America, I have learned an amazing amount at personal and professional levels at Georgetown. In the heart of the country, I have expanded my understanding of political economies and intersectional poverty. I have honed my interests in agriculture, food systems, and public health. This area of focus was not something I had known would draw so much interest when I began the program. Yet, I could talk for hours about how food production, farming, and livelihoods are essential aspects of the human experience, and not enough of us are trying to improve it for ourselves and our children. Food systems influence everything- from health to war to education and more (read another blog of mine here).
I love my new life in DC—attending classes and workshops on displacement and housing, humanitarian aid, health strategy, and more. On the side, I am rigorously studying and teaching yoga, deepening my own practice. I feel fulfilled, intellectually stimulated, and happy.
But I miss Nepal every day. The peaceful mornings on the hillside, the moments of adventure and learning in the field, the deeply kind people, and the hours spent sitting in the village drinking chia. I miss my trips to Kathmandu for coffee, dancing at Purple Haze, and bopping around the city for meetings with our partner organizations. I especially miss the distance from consumerism I didn’t even know I needed before arriving in Nepal. In Nepal, I didn’t shop; there was little need to do so unless I bought something practical to brace the cold days or the rainy season.
In the US, we have internalized the constant pressure to buy goods we don’t need, to dispose of perfectly good clothing to meet the current trends, and to constantly compare ourselves to others with unrealistic standards. I watched The Story of Stuff (20 min) years ago and still think about it often. I highly recommend this short film; watch it while you’re washing the dishes or working out… it will remind you that what you have is adequate and you can spend your time in more productive ways than consuming.
When I landed back in the US, I promised myself I would not buy a piece of clothing for one year. I wanted to prove to myself I would be happy with what I already owned, not succumb to the pressures of capitalism, and to hold on to the value of simplicity. I was semi-successful, ending up with some new socks, a pair of sweatpants, and a new sports bra - things that weighed heavily if I really NEEDED them. While I finally made it to my 365 days of not shopping, I will continue questioning what is needed vs. wanted and how my money can go to better causes than my vanity.
From the moment I left Nepal, I ached to return to my friends, to my Oda Foundation family, and the life I fostered there.
So 10 weeks ago, I was back to walking the busy streets of Kathmandu, drinking milk tea with familiar faces, practicing yoga, and making my way out to Oda with our team. To make things even more fun, I brought along some special people in my life, their first time in Asia.
Pictured above: my visitors, my co-director Rajkumari and Oda Foundation Founder Karan, having our first dal bhat of the trip in Kathmandu
Returning to Oda was as if I had never left. Although I was there for work, our staff are mero nepali puiwar, and it felt more like an overdue visit with relatives. Everything was nearly the same, albeit the roads along the way were a bit more paved, and the cellular connection was more substantial than I remembered in the village.
I was there primarily to work with our senior leadership on our transition plan. The Oda Foundation is proud of its roots as a community-created and community-led organization. From humble beginnings as a pharmacy in our CEO/Co-Founder’s cowshed to now being a full health facility with a birthing center, lab technicians, and an emergency helicopter landing pad. We now see over 10,000 patients a year, providing life-saving care every day. All of our staff are Nepali, 80% from the community itself. The Oda Foundation is the prime example of locally-led development, a term becoming more common in development circles and a new major focus of large institutions, including USAID and the UN. It is an essential step in giving agency and ownership back to communities. Here is my blog that outlines part of my journey with locally-led development theory to practice in Panama.
Our ground staff already manages Oda Foundation's day-to-day activities fully. Our transition focuses predominantly on sustainable fundraising efforts and how to better capacity-build our leadership to manage donor relationships, grants, and long-term strategy.
After morning meetings, a whole brigade of our staff hiked in our kurtas to a village three hours away by foot. Two of our colleagues were getting married. We gave tikka, well wishes, and danced to the traditional songs of the community.
Picture above: Oda Foundation staff at Kakendra and Tilpurna's Wedding!
Pictured below: Kakendra OF's lab technician and Tilpurna our previous Auxiliary Nurse/ Midwife
The next day was International Women’s Day, a celebration The Oda Foundation takes seriously in a region that still has prominent violence against women (particularly - discrimination against menstruating women). We marched with our signs into the village and watched as women and girls danced and speeches (often too long in Nepal) were pronounced. We ended the day with the celebrations of the national Hindu holiday, Shivaratri.
One last moment I want to recount, primarily for my memory and my reminder of why I do this work. Within a few hours of my arrival in Oda, Syanichanxididi (older sister), pulled me aside and asked under her breath if she could have a 5-minute meeting with me (said with giggles at using the word meeting).
Syanichanxididi has worked as one of our Kitchen Aunties for years. A local woman from the village, she was married early and had her first and only son around 15. Her husband left her, and for years, she continued sending him money, expecting his return. He never did. Over many months of cold nights at the fire and cutting potatoes with her in the kitchen, I learned about her experiences as a young, widowed woman. This narrative is common in our region, and it is why our organization prioritizes employing women in these situations. Her employment meant a stable income. It allowed her son to attend school and gave her a safe place to sleep.
Pictured above: Didi making the first canteen sale to our finance officer, Abinash :)
In 2022, we decided to open a canteen on the campus. Many of our patients walk up to 12 hours to reach our clinic from villages even more remote than ours. They come sick, dehydrated, and often hungry. The canteen was set up as a part of our social enterprise department, aiming to alleviate some of the funding tension by creating small local businesses. Didi was sent to a 10-day food training in the district capital.
Advocating for Syanichanxididi was easy. She worked hard and was a great cook. Our team was patient as she learned numbers and letters, enough to count what was sold and balance the drawer at the end of the day.
When I walked to the canteen for our “meeting,” I found her making eggs for a patient in the wood and metal sheet canteen. I took a seat and watched as she finished the order. She shooed the patient away with their eggs and locked up behind her. She guided me to a bench outside and sat me down, holding my hands.
She took some deep breaths, and I could see the anxiety etched in the lines of her face. I had no idea what she was about to say… maybe she would share some issues she had with other staff members she wanted to share personally? When the courage came, and her mouth opened to speak, tears welled in her eyes. My Nepali was rusty after months of not using it, but I understood her whispers as she squeezed my hands tight.
She thanked me for all the time I spent in Oda, the training, and for supporting her opportunity to manage the canteen. She explained how happy she was working in this job and felt safe and hopeful. She said she doesn't know what my work includes for OF when I leave the village (meaning when I am in Kathmandu or the US), but she knows that I am going out there to find money to help the organization operate. She asked for nothing, only sharing her gratitude and her changed life because of the work the Oda Foundation is doing.
It reminded me why I do this work and why I am interested in rural development, specifically in women’s empowerment. It reminded me of the individual stories that comprise the many statistics I read in graduate school. Most importantly, it reminded me how critical it is to form meaningful and authentic relationships with the people I aim to support.
Every day, I question more and more what role we play as Westerners in global development, the importance of capacity-building locals to lead their own change, and what that looks like. I try my best to realize my biases and continue to promote equity that feels right for the communities I work within.
This trip back to Oda was everything I could have hoped for. I left with my heart happy, my belly full of dal bhat and reinvigoration to continue serving vulnerable populations.
To end, this summer brings me across the world. First, I am attending a train-the-trainer intensive workshop in Sri Lanka with the Global South Coalition for Dignified Menstruation, furthering my knowledge in menstrual hygiene management, sexual reproductive health, HIV, child marriage, women empowerment, advocacy and, and the intersection of these issues. From there, I will fly to Nairobi, Kenya, for my internship with BRAC International's MicroFinance team working on knowledge management, e.g., supporting efforts to help one country operation learn from another to better women's programming, create better access, and share feedback.
I look forward to sharing what I have learned from these experiences as the summer progresses.
With love,
Em