The other day, as I glanced down into my guide book to get my bearings, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the cutest Nepali lady, perhaps in her eighties, with her eyes riveted to my book, as if she needed to get oriented too. The wrinkles lining her face looked like some of the craggy mountains I'd been scaling lately, to get a glimpse of other higher mountains. At first I assumed she was a beggar--but she was so focused on that book that I momentarily dabbled with the remote possibility that she could read English. A bystander would never have known that for her, the book was upside down! Then she looked up at me and gave me the most impish, toothy grin imaginable. As far as I could tell, she didn't want anything from me, only to coax a laugh from this much younger stranger. How cool for her to be so playful, and to bring a ray of sunshine into my life. Speaking of sunshine, I twice seized the opportunity to watch the sun rise over the Himalayas.
This required getting up at 5 a.m. to get to a mile-high lookout post. Overall, it was worth the investment. How majestic those mountains are. They make a person feel small, the same way standing in St. Patrick's or some European Cathedral imparts the awe of God's presence. Looking at the Himalayas up close one can gain some understanding how Native Americans, Japanese, Nepalis, and even ancient Israelites revered mountains as holy places, places where the Presence of God dwelt. A friend recently described the Himalayas as "awe-inspiring". That's exactly what they were; I don't think mere words can do better than that.
In a recent e-mail update or blog post, writing of whether in India I'd seen Dalit people, "Untouchables", I used the term "menial labor". That I did has bothered me ever since. I think that term aroused such dissonance in me at least in part because of a book I read a couple years ago by a seventeenth-century Carmelite lay brother who came to be known as Brother Lawrence. In his book, "The Practice of the Presence of God," Brother Lawrence talks about work, and how there is inherent dignity in work done by humans, all of whom have inherent worth (because that work is to be done to reflect favor on our Creator).
That Dalits and others are human beings tasked with work that many of us consider unpleasant, does not reduce their dignity, which the use of term "menial labor" may imply. John D. Rockefeller is famously quoted as saying of
labor: "I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity to make a living." Rockefeller's words underscore the injustice to the Dalit people, that they don't have the opportunity to choose the work they do, but are forced to work, essentially as slaves, at what any objective observer would consider the worst, most undesirable jobs possible. When witnessing a man overseeing the cremation of a body they other day, I again wondered whether he was a Dalit, for this is one of the tasks "reserved" for Dalits. Nepal, unfortunately, like India, has a caste system that is very much alive, with throngs of Untouchables.
These people, whether the man cremating the body, the Tibetan women refugees I saw weaving carpets, the man assuming traditional garb to entice tourists to take his picture for a few rupees, or the Buddhist artist sitting for eight to ten hours a day to painstakingly create traditional thangka paintings--all are made in the image of God and have inherent worth and dignity. And if each of them
chooses to do that work, there is dignity then, in their completing those tasks to the best of their ability. Forgive me then, for using the term "menial labor".
The other day, as I glanced down into my guide book to get my bearings, out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the cutest Nepali lady, perhaps in her eighties, with her eyes riveted to my book, as if she needed to get oriented too. The wrinkles lining her face looked like some of the craggy mountains I'd been scaling lately, to get a glimpse of other higher mountains. At first I assumed she was a beggar--but she was so focused on that book that I momentarily dabbled with the remote possibility that she could read English. A bystander would never have known that for her, the book was upside down! Then she looked up at me and gave me the most impish, toothy grin imaginable. As far as I could tell, she didn't want anything from me, only to coax a laugh from this much younger stranger. How cool for her to be so playful, and to bring a ray of sunshine into my life. Speaking of sunshine, I twice seized the opportunity to watch the sun rise over the Himalayas. 
This required getting up at 5 a.m. to get to a mile-high lookout post. Overall, it was worth the investment. How majestic those mountains are. They make a person feel small, the same way standing in St. Patrick's or some European Cathedral imparts the awe of God's presence. Looking at the Himalayas up close one can gain some understanding how Native Americans, Japanese, Nepalis, and even ancient Israelites revered mountains as holy places, places where the Presence of God dwelt. A friend recently described the Himalayas as "awe-inspiring". That's exactly what they were; I don't think mere words can do better than that.
In a recent e-mail update or blog post, writing of whether in India I'd seen Dalit people, "Untouchables", I used the term "menial labor". That I did has bothered me ever since. I think that term aroused such dissonance in me at least in part because of a book I read a couple years ago by a seventeenth-century Carmelite lay brother who came to be known as Brother Lawrence. In his book, "The Practice of the Presence of God," Brother Lawrence talks about work, and how there is inherent dignity in work done by humans, all of whom have inherent worth (because that work is to be done to reflect favor on our Creator). 
That Dalits and others are human beings tasked with work that many of us consider unpleasant, does not reduce their dignity, which the use of term "menial labor" may imply. John D. Rockefeller is famously quoted as saying of labor: "I believe in the dignity of labor, whether with head or hand; that the world owes no man a living but that it owes every man an opportunity to make a living." Rockefeller's words underscore the injustice to the Dalit people, that they don't have the opportunity to choose the work they do, but are forced to work, essentially as slaves, at what any objective observer would consider the worst, most undesirable jobs possible. When witnessing a man overseeing the cremation of a body they other day, I again wondered whether he was a Dalit, for this is one of the tasks "reserved" for Dalits. Nepal, unfortunately, like India, has a caste system that is very much alive, with throngs of Untouchables. 
These people, whether the man cremating the body, the Tibetan women refugees I saw weaving carpets, the man assuming traditional garb to entice tourists to take his picture for a few rupees, or the Buddhist artist sitting for eight to ten hours a day to painstakingly create traditional thangka paintings--all are made in the image of God and have inherent worth and dignity. And if each of them chooses to do that work, there is dignity then, in their completing those tasks to the best of their ability. Forgive me then, for using the term "menial labor".
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