I visited the main hostel for the Naxal School yesterday. It is in Handigaon, less than ten minutes from where I live, at the deadend of a quiet alleyway near the Bhatbateni Supermarket. I stepped through the door in the metal gate. There was a pingpong table in the middle of the dusty courtyard, and a group of kids gathered around. One of the kids from the second grade class, a small chubby kid with solemn brown eyes, is the scorekeeper for the game. A few moments after I step in, there are faces peeking at me from the windows. A woman asks if I want tea. Both of the students I met in Langtang come out to say hello, and a group of insistent kids charge me, pulling my shirt and asking my name. The kids I already know ask if I remember their names, and as much as possible, I try to show that I do, though by this point more than 75 new names are dancing into, and mostly out of, my head. A first grader signs the Z at the end of my name with a smile and a shout, then leans forward and traces the design of the leaf on my shirt.

The kids at the Naxal School, both at the hostel and while in class, seem to get along incredibly well, as if they are one huge, jostling family. Though there are clearly groups of friends, none of them have the exclusive feel of cliques. The older kids get along with the younger, the students share their snacks with each other, and I haven't seen a fight yet, though I'm sure they do happen. It may be an idealization, and I'm not an insider yet, but these kids know they have to stick together, and being deaf, just as it does in America, creates a strong bond.

Around the kids I feel almost overpowering feelings of affection and camaraderie. We share this bond of deafness, and while we come not just different ethnic cultures but different deaf backgrounds as well, I know they respect me not just as an American but particularly as a deaf American, just as I respect them for the challenges they face, for their incredible enthusiasm, and for our common bond.

I'd like to strongly encourage other deaf Americans to consider working with deaf Nepalis. It's a strong, vibrant community, but it's also one with many needs. There are deaf schools in Kathmandu, Kavre on the rim of the valley, Pokhara, Gorkha, and Bhairawa, near the birthplace of the Buddha, among others. There are many more deaf associations. And while there are whole new generations of deaf being born with more opportunities, one that includes sign language, schooling, and prospects of work and marriage, there is an older generation of deaf people that has been left behind.