Flipflopping and proud of it
Bhumika Ghimire
April 19, 2006
I am using this term "flipflopping" to refer to myself, not the world community(in case of Darfur) or Mr Bush (Iran). I have to admit that I did learn from them how to be a flipflopper but keep denying it so that you can stay sane and happy.
Yesterday I arrived in Nepal for a month long visit. Excited to be home after a long gap I was looking forward to a fun filled holiday, spending time with family and friends. Instead I find myself making sense of brutal police beating targetting protestors fighting for democracy, the street children taking part in voilent protest marches expecting some payout from the organizers. Death of innocent bystanders killed by police firings ,the ministers who can still manage to smile for the camera and the King who can still think of himself as a "GOD".
After a bumpy ride home from the airport, I see my neighbourhood has turned into a kind of small slum town. People coming to the capital unable to live in the villages, trying to escape the Maoist voilence, hunger and the Army. They cannot afford to build a home in Kathmandu so they try to keep safe in huts made by bamboo and plastic roof. I see a long line in grocery store, people waiting in line with eager look hoping that they will be able to afford food and cooking gas. Some, going home dejected after hearing that they cannot buy salt because it cost their whole day's worth of work.
So now I have changed sides. Now I donot support the protestors, who try to shut down the supply of essentiels because the fat ministers and the King are not the ones going bed hungry, I donot support the kids not being allowed to learn beacuse it is not the minister or the prince who is missing on an opportunity to a better life, and I am definately not for the leaders who say all this agitation is for the people. Because I am one of them and I know we don't to chant a slogn with an empy stomach.I am flipflopper and I am proud for being one.
Copyright:Bhumika Ghimire,2006
Yesterday I arrived in Nepal for a month long visit. Excited to be home after a long gap I was looking forward to a fun filled holiday, spending time with family and friends. Instead I find myself making sense of brutal police beating targetting protestors fighting for democracy, the street children taking part in voilent protest marches expecting some payout from the organizers. Death of innocent bystanders killed by police firings ,the ministers who can still manage to smile for the camera and the King who can still think of himself as a "GOD".
After a bumpy ride home from the airport, I see my neighbourhood has turned into a kind of small slum town. People coming to the capital unable to live in the villages, trying to escape the Maoist voilence, hunger and the Army. They cannot afford to build a home in Kathmandu so they try to keep safe in huts made by bamboo and plastic roof. I see a long line in grocery store, people waiting in line with eager look hoping that they will be able to afford food and cooking gas. Some, going home dejected after hearing that they cannot buy salt because it cost their whole day's worth of work.
So now I have changed sides. Now I donot support the protestors, who try to shut down the supply of essentiels because the fat ministers and the King are not the ones going bed hungry, I donot support the kids not being allowed to learn beacuse it is not the minister or the prince who is missing on an opportunity to a better life, and I am definately not for the leaders who say all this agitation is for the people. Because I am one of them and I know we don't to chant a slogn with an empy stomach.I am flipflopper and I am proud for being one.
Copyright:Bhumika Ghimire,2006
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