Week 6: A Lesson on Humility

               It finally happened. I got food poisoning.

               I have no reason to be surprised. Everyone warned me that my time would come, but after over a month in Nepal without any stomach issues, I was sure all my food precautions were enough to keep me safe. I was wrong.

               I made it back into the office on Friday morning, still weak but eager to leave the confines of my bedroom. Several of my co-workers stopped by my desk throughout the day, reminding me to drink lots of water. Carolyn, the Chief of Party, took a seat in my office, confessing her surprise that it took this long for me to get sick. I lamented to her that I was just starting to feel confident I would make it through my internship without any incidents. Carolyn smirked and quipped back, “Pride comes before the fall.” It really is a humbling experience to be sick and alone in a foreign country.

               After chatting with Carolyn, I started working on the project I was assigned earlier in the week, before being rudely interrupted by my food poisoning woes. A few months back, the Hamro Samman team conducted capacity assessment reports on a few shelters serving trafficking survivors, and I am editing the reports before we send them off to USAID.

               As I read the shelter reports, I felt another wave of humility. Some of the recommendations for the shelters mirrored what I would expect to see from a report on US shelters, like ensuring access to legal representation and regular counseling sessions. However, the reports highlighted how challenging it can be for shelters here to provide some of the simplest forms of support, like a consistent supply of basic toiletries or a space with enough sunlight to keep the survivors warm in the winter months.

               I thought back to the week before, when the Hamro Samman team awarded grants to a few deserving shelters, all with humble beginnings. As one of the grantees signed the paperwork, she expressed her gratitude for the financial support, explaining she funded the shelter through her own limited income. Another of the grantees was a trafficking survivor herself, dedicating her life to seeing survivors successfully reintegrate into their communities.

               These stories make me so grateful to be a part of Hamro Samman, even for just a short time. I am learning that sustainable, successful international development work clings to the people and organizations with those humble beginnings. After all, these people know how to support trafficking survivors in Nepal better than I or any other expat ever could. They grew up in these communities, experiencing the vulnerabilities that lure people into taking jobs that promise a future but rob them of their sense of dignity. They are far better positioned to explain to survivors that their exploitative work conditions qualify as trafficking, despite many victims being so conditioned to grueling labor that they fail to recognize the severity of their mistreatment. They know how to advocate for better support services for survivors because, for some of them, they once had the same needs. 

               It is hard to believe I am approaching the last month of my internship. Week six brought some of my toughest days in Nepal so far, but it ended with a reminder of the incredible resiliency I witness nearly every day in my job. I am just hoping week seven is a bit kinder on my stomach.