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I delegate the photocopying of our operational manual to Leigh, the humourous red-headed Aussie. Meanwhile our Nepalese field manager Krish finishes up the cow shopping and gets the party details sorted.
I’m thanking the Universe again for sending me help.
My project policies and job descriptions have just been translated into Nepali from the trekking guide down the street at 3 Sister’s.
Oh crap, it’s 11am! I was supposed to leave two hours ago as I still have to paint the logo on the barn. Just my luck. Rushed as usual and it’s been leaving my head in a whirlwind.
Construction has been stalled two weeks and thus the rush to finish before I depart the country has been looming.
“Leigh! Coming to you in two minutes!” I frantically say on the phone. I’m dropping off some documents on my way to the school. He chuckles into the ear piece.
He knows my style. And weirdly is okay with it.
I was under pressure last week, coupled with a pinch of anxiety, perhaps coming to the realization that my dream wouldn’t pan out as expected; meaning that I couldn’t devote my month to training the farm workers and committee, but rather my time was being hogged with construction management.
I need help, I found myself saying out loud one evening. Universe; I am grateful and blessed that I am attracting people who are enthusiastic about helping me with my project! I put my vibration out there and I suppose working on Reiki all week surely opened me up to the possibilities.
Two days later, Leigh showed up.
I was sitting in a cafe in Lakeside (the tourist area) when I overheard a loud Australian bloke discussing his horror stories of volunteering in Nepal. He had signed up with an Aussie placement agency called Greenline. Upon his arrival to the orphan home in Nepal, he found the director was housing street children in exchange for servitude. Children cooking the family meals, waking up at 5am to do laundry, and being rudely snapped at to clean up water spills from the volunteers.
“That’s really not necessary,” Leigh insisted to the director as the child humbly came over, head down avoiding eye contact.
“No, this is his job,” the director curtly replied.
It was at this notion that Leigh reported the orphan home and left.
His conversation was not an uncommon tale; I had heard it time and time again from dozens of volunteers over the years. It’s been commonly known as voluntourism.
After secretly listening from a nearby table, I believed it was time to chime in. “Excuse me, sorry for eavesdropping, but I hear you are seeking a meaningful volunteer experience!”
The table immediately began laughing. “Ah yes, we are! You know about the bad ones then?” they asked.
“I am well aware,” I stated. I then began to explain the logistics of the project; a dairy farm to financially support a low-caste school. I needed help with the organizational structure and management.
They all seemed intrigued, but it was Leigh who asked to come for a visit.
“So this interests you?” I questioned.
“Well I’ve been working with HR management and reconstruction in the Australian government,” he added.
I was in disbelief. “I need you!” I exclaimed.
“Oh yeah, and I grew up in a farming community. My Dad worked for a milk technologies laboratory for most of my life too,” he smiled as the words left his lips. He also knew this wasn’t a chance meeting.
My heart opened. This is the person I manifested. I knew it now.
Vibrational manifestation, yes, but also I’m sure he was nudged to walk into that cafe at that hour; or me to come to him. Perhaps it was a combination of both manifestation and fate.
Either way, I now had Leigh. He was a huge proponent in the final weeks; helping me structure the governing committee, writing the operational manual, creating structural flow charts, holding committee meetings, and simply just there for general moral support, which I find working as a team is most beneficial to my productivity.
Fast forward three days and the barn is ready to be painted.
Universe; I am so grateful and blessed that I am attracting volunteers who want to paint, I wrote in my journal one afternoon.
The following evening, we bump into Dustin and Asha, sitting at a cafe on the lake. My friend Lauren (a visiting American from Saigon also helping with the project) and I were walking along the lakefront foot path. Power was out again all over the village and I needed to borrow a lighter for our candle.
Both of their smiles were truly captivating and they invited us for a beer. After an evening’s conversation, they both decided to join Lauren and I at the school the following day to paint the barn.
It was a two-day job however, and Dustin and Asha had to continue on with their travels soon after.
Universe; I am so grateful and blessed that I am attracting volunteers who will help me continue painting the barn, and oh yeah, I’m grateful that I’m attracting an artist too, I found myself saying again after Dustin and Asha parted ways.
This time, not only did I need someone to help with the 3rd coat, but I needed an artist to paint the logo.
That evening, as some friends and I were sitting at the local hippie hangout, Freedom Cafe, with the smokers, free spirits, and wandering vagabonds, I happened to choose a seat next to two quiet but amusing French girls, Leïlita and Pauline, from Lyon.
“Sure why not,” I replied. The girls glanced at each other then back at me.
“So we rent mo-tor-bike?” Pauline queried.
“Sure why not,” I offered with a smirk. Their accents were cute. The girls looked at each other again.
“So we have homestay?” Pauline inquired again after a moment’s pause.
“Sure of course! You can have it all.”
And the very next morning, this is how two happy French girls joined us in finishing the school. Because communication was taxing, I decided to just roll with it, not realizing until their arrival that Leïlita was an artist! She so eloquently drew our logo with ease. I again knew, these girls were sent for me.
Having just finished school, she was on an 8-month trip through Asia exploring life, discovering cultures, and self-actualizing. She was the final piece of the puzzle.
I was in desperate need of a photojournalist to help document the farm project and most importantly, photograph the ceremony at the end of the week. As the project director, I simply could not be both the host and take the photos. A traveling friend whom I assumed would help, fell through in the last hour. Fate had pulled him in another direction. I understood his decision to continue on his path, but it left me feeling anxious about the situation.
Universe; I am so grateful and blessed that I am attracting a photographer who will help with the project, I thought out loud with Leigh one evening. Leigh and I were driving back from the school site to Pokhara on motorbike. I told him about the Laws of Attraction and the technique for it to be successful. We both made it our mission that evening to attract a photographer.
Babiche was Leigh’s friend from the Greenline volunteering placement the month prior. At the time, he did not know Babiche was a photographer, but happened to invite her along to the school one day. She had been asking to come up to the site. But it was only after she arrived, that we both discovered her ability.
I was in tears at this realization.
Not just because we found the missing piece of the puzzle, but rather because the entire project and all the beautiful souls that were meant to help had arrived and delivered. It was if I was jolted into the collective conscious, stepping out of the 3D, and leaving me with profound clarity.
I’ve always said that people will come together for the common good; they always do. And no matter where in the world I travel, I see this time and time again.
From my darkest hour when I feel alone and as if no one actually cares about the world, I find these pockets of people both abroad (and at home) who show support, and love, and kindness, and it is at these times I realize I don’t have to do it alone.
I’ve never had to.