The Flood. . .

Tonight, the last night of my journey in Nepal, I will sleep in a dry bed sheltered from the rain and the wind. Others in Nepal are less fortunate. The nation has been crying for rain to plant their crops, quench their thirst, and to power the country. Today, the rain came, but at a cost for many. The rain poured with purpose through the early morning hours, hard and heavy. It continues still. The Baghmati river that flows through Kathmandu has risen and its current has quickened. Though magnificent, it is not a sight of promise or hope for the people because it is filled with garbage and sewage. And as the river continues to rise, it collects more garbage that has been abandoned along its landfill-like banks. It has crept into the streets of Kathmandu redirecting traffic. As of early afternoon, it had overflowed into the slum community situated along its banks. As you know, we've been working in this community for the past month to build a water purifying system and enhance their primary school. Great progress has been made in developing relationships and sowing seeds!

But when we arrived this afternoon, many of us were filled with dismay and perhaps a bit of fear (maybe some of us even felt hopeless). The community of 1500+ homes was flooding and the people were wading through calf-deep water. Where are they to go? Who will care for them? What of their few belongings? They have no support from the government, no insurance, no refuge. For those of you that may follow the news in Asia, you may be familiar with the fatalities caused by diarrhea. Hundreds of Nepali have died this year from diarrhea--so simply treated! Yet not so, here. It is an epidemic on the verge of national crisis. The government is not organized enough to provide the medicine necessary to combat diarrhea, though they appear to be making every effort to try. Maybe the medicine is unavailable. I'm unsure. Sadly, there is also a rise in cases of cholera. Every day, the Kathmandu Post reports people dying in their homes or on the sides of the road because they couldn't make it to the health post for medication. I read today of a leper who died abandoned because no one wanted to risk helping him to the health post down the road. Yesterday, I read of a man who was forced to leave the bodies of his dead wife and daughter in order to save his young son from the same fatal end. His son died on his shoulder as he walked to the health post. He didn't make it in time.

The risk of death from diarrhea and any number bacteria looms as the river water swirls around the feet of this community. How many of those smiling faces will disappear over the next days? Will it be a face that I remember? A name I've already forgotten? As our host stated in painful truth: tomorrow we will return to our homes and to safety in the United States, but the people of this community (and Nepal) have no where else to go. The bed they sleep in tonight is wet and soaked with risk.

I ask that you would pray.