Today, I went into a slum.  The missionary family that I am assigned to was preaching at a church in the slum.  The slum is situated on the banks of the river.  The people who live in it make their living by carrying baskets of fine sand from the river to construction delivery trucks.  It is strenuous work, done by women.  These women are uneducated, unable to read or write.  Even though the caste system has been eliminated, it still remains in full effect.  It's hard to change a mindset that has been in place for generations upon generations.  Getting there involved a bit of walking (slipping) down the mountainside.  By Nepal standards, it was a road that we followed.  Monsoon rains have pretty much eliminated any road surface and left ruts and rocks and sand behind.  After crossing a bridge, we arrived at the church which is situated above the slum.  The slum is everything you would picture it to be.  Cinder block buildings with tin roofs which are held in place by large rocks from the river.  The buildings have one or two rooms, some have a window, and old sheets are used for doors.  People wash their clothes and dishes in the stream that runs through the middle of the slum.

We were invited into one of the homes after the church service.  They had a two room home with no furnishings.  A sheet was spread on the floor for us to sit on.  The lack of furniture is not unusual here.  It's been months since I have sat on a couch.  The other room had a cabinet on which they cooked. They had ducklings in one corner of that room that they were raising to sell.  They fed us and offered us drinks.  Once again, the poorest of the poor are feeding us, with great pride.  They have no possessions to speak of, yet willingly share what they do have with us.  They could, quite literally, carry all of their possessions on their back.  When the river gets high during monsoon season, they have to leave and seek higher ground.

We followed one of their paths up the mountain to get back to our car.  At times, the path was only a sandal-width wide and seemed that only a mountain goat could navigate it.  Other times, the stepping stones were well worn and smooth.  Always, the view was stunning.  Within a short period of time, we had climbed hundreds of feet above the river, the rice paddies, and the slum.  Looking back down at the river, it becomes even clearer how dangerously those people live.  The river threatens from one side, and the mud cliffs hover above them.  A minor mudslide would wipe out the entire slum in an instant.

This is the second time we have been fed by people who have nothing.  The first time we were walking to the river close to our home.  We sat down to let the children play.  While we were sitting there, an old woman walked past us carrying a bag of vegetables in one hand and a pile of water buffalo manure in the other hand.  She went into her one room house which has no windows and no door.  She put the manure outside to dry; she will use it as fuel to cook with when it completely dries out.  She came out a bit later carrying a plate with an apple, a banana, and a piece of roti (bread).  She offered us the food.  We split the food and ate it while she talked with us.  I was humbled that someone who has absolutely nothing would offer us what little she had.  Again today, I was humbled by the generosity of the people here.  These people have so many needs, yet they are so willing to share everything they have.