By Eunjin Jeong
My first instinct when I spotted the two women from a small community in Sindhupalchok marching towards me was that I should maybe stop taking photos of their shattered community; perhaps I was rubbing salt in their wounds.
Over the past three weeks they’d seen their lives change forever, their homes destroyed, family, friends and neighbours killed, livelihoods wiped out.
When our eyes met, however, my doubts melted away. One of the women raised her hands, palms touching and fingers pointing upwards: “Namaste”, she said, the customary form of Hindu greeting meaning ‘I bow to the divine in you’. Her pressed hands could not hide a shy smile, her eyes hinting that she was genuinely happy to see a foreign face like mine interested in telling their stories when help is most needed.