རྒྱ་མཚོ’s Story: As a Himalayan Child

རྒྱ་མཚོ’s Story: As a Himalayan Child

My parents and I were born and raised in the mountains near Chomolungma Or what normally is called Everest. We lived in poverty less food, cold weather, patched clothes. My father used to help carry Trekkers and climber’s equipment to the base camp. Life was hard for us and even more then with no education and less payment. I am so grateful to them for letting me study even as a girl child. Life was hard for us but it turned out even more hard and painful traumatic to me. The devilish night of that year. the year I still remember as fresh as ever like it only happened yesterday that the reminds still scares me. I was barely 12 At the moment and to every girls horror I was sexually abused, molestaed and raped by a foreigner (Trekker) near my home. That painful touch his horondous smile and his forceful ways is still crystal clear. I was raped by being lured for a packet of chocolates and notebooks. I was raped since he knew I am child in poverty and new notes would definitely lure me. I don’t think he even cares if I know about it I don’t think he would care to know if I knew I was being raped. But I knew I was being raped I was molestaed yet I was frightened to tell a single soul or scream for help since Trekkers were the one that fed our community’s stomach and gave us work. So I accepted that destinity. I went home that evening in pain in my body and stones on my heart not telling a single soul about that event not even to my dear parents. The guilt of not standing to myself the guilt of accepting the rape and the guilt of being poverty stricken child traumatized me so bad I started being in depression and wanted suicide. But my parents wrinkled face and chapped hands stopped me from doing so. I lived with this pain all the time and cursing my faith for being poor and unlucky. Destinity wasn’t so cruel to me in later years when my uncle got married to a foreigner and I was able to study high school in the capital by my aunt paying for it. I struggled with my depression my suicidal tendency and my guilt of being raped. I knew it wasn’t my fault but somehow I couldn’t consule myself I wanted this burden off my heart so now I am here writing to thousands other to read and for my heart to release the burden. I don’t think I will ever speak about this to anyone personally but I don’t want others to repeat the same mistake as I did. I always had and will always have this scar in my heart that is not repairable. The last cant be changed but still it haunts my present. I try to move forward but the memories freeze my feets. I know I will never be able to forgive neither forget but if I get a chance to see that monster I would definitely ask what he received destroyed my childhood for a 5 minutes pleasure??



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