Bombs and Brownies

Dear all,

Tonight's post is going to be brief, because I'm frightfully tired, but I need to write a little to get some thoughts out of my head. As some of you may have already heard, the largest Catholic church in Nepal was bombed yesterday. Two people were killed and another 14 were injured, among them one of the many Jesuits that I've come to love in my time here. It is a shocking and heartbreaking event that we are all still trying to deal with.

But before you all get too worried, let me assure you, I always attend the much smaller private mass in the Jesuits' residence, so despite the attack being on my parish, I've never actually been in the building that was bombed. Of course, it looks as if there will be a memorial mass held there soon and I will be in attendance, but after that I plan to continue attending the Jesuits' mass as the setting suits me better.

Anyway, the reason I'm writing about all of this is because I'm trying to understand my own reaction to it. You see, since the first phone call yesterday from a friend checking to see that I was safe, I've only been able to think about one thing: baked goods. Even from the shards of information about the bombing my friend told me over the phone, I knew it was our parish, I knew one of my priests was there, and I knew it was a big deal. But to my suprise, my first thought was "I want a cookie" and my second thought was, "I should bake brownies". And while the cookie lust has long since be satiated, the intense desire to drown the priests and the rest of the catholic community here in chocolate chip cookies, cupcakes and, of course, fudgy brownies has yet to subside.

I guess on some level it must be my small battle against helplessness; yes, there's nothing significant I can do, but I can still bake chocolatey happiness. On the other hand, one of the guilty pleasures I get out of going to the Jesuit mass, is helping some of the older priests afterwards at their breakfast. They remind me of grandfathers without grandchildren, and putting sugar in their tea or listening to their stories gives my Sunday mornings meaning. So perhaps that same nuturing need is just going in to overdrive. All the same, I feel as though the kitchen is calling to me and it's an urge I can't really understand.

In particular, I'm worried about the injured priest. He's not a local Nepali, which means he has no family here, and since I've visited others in Nepali hospitals, I know that the hospital does not provide food to patients. Instead, the families are expected to bring food from home for their loved ones. And this leads me to this equation One badly burned priest - family = brownies. Still, I'm trying to control myself, as I know 1) that the sisters from the Catholic school are doubtlessly fussing over him even more than I want to 2)that father may not be able to see visitors yet, and even if he is able, he may not be willing to see many people until the burns have had some time to heal and 3) that sometimes over eagerness to help just gets in the way. So I'm trying to control myself, at least for a day or two, so that I can see where and how I'm really needed.

That said, if any of you feel like sending some cookie recipes along, I'd sure appreciate them. They might be just the thing to calm me a bit. But all in all, I'm fine, as are most of the people I met with today. We are heartsore, but nothing more, and really I'm impressed by the patience and compassion with which the Jesuits are facing this challenge. So try not to fret, and just send some good thoughts our way.

I'm, of course, sending good thoughts back.

All my love,