ah, my kids, my kids, my kids.

the other day (and by other day i mean about a month ago) i asked x when we were supposed to stop calling our kids "kids". he said, "well, i mean you are still your parent's kid, i'm still my parent's kid. it's just like that."

for all the people (nepalis especially!!) who tell me "my kids" are not "kids", it's just like that. :)

i've told the aforementioned "kids" - and by kids, i really only mean my 15 year old trio; Dorje, Arjun and San Soraj - that i've begun to grow:

1. weary

2. bored

3. hopeless

about their lives. meaning, they've hit a wall that only they can climb. i can't push them over it; they have to go to the next level themselves.

it's kind of like entering our house.

i've never really thought to mention this because it seems quite normal, but we don't use the front door. everyone, our 50 year old upstairs landlady included, climbs the backyard fence to leave the house.

it's not a tall fence, but it is usually a bit awkward when i bring people to our house for the first time.

there is a logical reason for climbing the fence; the two doors lead to entirely different places. the front door and the back door lead to different roads. the road attached to the front door leads to a road that i've only ever gone down when i'm bailing one of the kids out of jail. gosh, this story is turning out to be more metaphorical than i intended, but yep it's true. the easy road leads only to jail and a field where kids use drugs. the backdoor, however, leads to everything else. the shop where we buy our food, the butcher's, the college, the bus, the town and in all practical senses, life itself.

so those are the options. the road to jail and drugs or the road to community.

right now my kids are sitting in the house smoking cigarettes in the bathroom as if i don't know, confused which road they are going to take. a while ago someone asked me what my goals for these kids. i simply answered, "my goal is that there would be a few less criminals in nepal." that shut the person up.

people want me to give these nice, pretty answers about how they will be businessmen or teachers or anything upright. people who want to quantify success of my 'rehabilitation' of these kids. those are the type of people who usually think things like if i can't provide those kind of solutions, then i should either a. stop helping those kids or b. reevaluate my own efforts/ methods.

basically my point is this: a lot more people than you would realise discourage the help of street kids, because street kids are lazy, criminally minded, selfish individuals and for the same effort it takes to help one Dorje, one San Soraj or one Arjun, a person could help 20 Sushmitas, Ashmitas, and other poor children who want nothing more than to go to school. That's all well and fine, but if you don't help the Dorjes, San Sorajs, and Arjuns of the world, then you are going to be the one's getting beat like a pulp outside of a nice bar in Kathmandu by a street kid or the one knifed in the hand and mugged at 9 p.m. both true stories; the first i'll post about soon. then you'll probably be wishing that someone had taken the time and energy to help a street kid.

lately i've been telling arjun that he looks like a young criminal we know. not exactly positive reinforcement, but it's actually a bit scary to me that his mannerisms so often mimic those of that street kid turned professional criminal. the only difference between that young man and arjun is that my boys still has a slight innate goodness and a desire to be something other than a thug. arjun still has that flame of life and that sparkle of pure innocence in his eye. but dually, the criminal side is there; i know it and even arjun knows it.

so he has a choice that i cannot make.... stroll out the front door or climb the fence.