“Not so long ago, half my face was paralysed. My husband is still paying the loan that he took out for my treatment. He took me to a hospital in India. You see that was the first time in my life I set foot out of my village. They talk about Biratnagar, they talk about Janakpur. They talk of how close these towns are but I have not seen those places. Someone showed me a picture of Pashupatinath inKathmandu and I bowed down to him. The trip to India for my treatment cost my husband a fortune. He had to skip his work and the interest on the loan never stopped. I spend my days worrying about my husband. He is a hard working man. He has tried to provide for the family by working long hours and skipping lunch. He drives a tractor all day and comes home tired to us. I have four daughters and a son. The daughters are still at home and the son could not continue school because the money my husband earned was never enough. Today, my son works menial jobs, here and there. With so many mouths to feed things can sometimes get very tensed. During those times, I play with my grandson. And during those times, in that loud laughter, I forget all my troubles. I forget the loan and the scarcity. I even forget my displaced face.”