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“You can not be in India after June 3rd” was what the immigration officer told me when I was supposed to be in India until August in 2010. I was only 23 years old and didn’t have much idea of life back then. After analyzing my options on what to do the rest of the two months that I have in Asia, I decided to volunteer in Nepal. I found a cool project in Nagarkot, founded by a dutch girl who married a nepali boy, she had a kindergarten for the local children and he was the owner of a hotel. They offered me a really good price for living and eating at the hotel and in exchange I would ‘teach English in the kindergarten’ (which was the plan but the little boys and girls barely speak nepali so we didn’t pass de 1,2,3 and A, B, C. Was really fun though). I reached Nagarkot and I was impressed, it was a beautiful place, I felt really like Heidi, the Girl of the Alps, living among the mountains with the Everest and the Himalayas as my daily view. The kindergarten was about 5 km from the hotel so walking every day was a perfect way to get there. At the same time I could enjoy the view, the community and in the best cases, to know some of the local people. By that time the season at the hotel was low, so I spend most of my free time with the staff. I must say that they were only men and there were some days I was the only woman around, but somehow I never felt uncomfortable and soon we became good friends. They told me a lot of stories about Nagarkot and even teached me some nepali; I learned very helpful phrases, such as ‘I don’t speak nepali’ (10 years later I still remember how to say it, just in case). The time passes and one day I got up feeling really bad: I had my period. I decided to not say a thing but I couldn’t walk and be in the mood to teach English either, so I just told the staff I had some stomach ache and I would spend the day at my room. At some point I was still on some pain but I was really bored too, so I went to the little restaurant of the hotel to read. Suddenly I fall asleep on the table. I don’t know how much time passed but when I woke up there was one of the staff guys sitting next to me, looking at me and with a bowl of hot soup that smelled delicious in his hands. He told me: "You’re not sick, you have that that only women have once a month, I have sisters you know? And you haven’t eaten in all day so take, eat this that I cook for you." I couldn’t say a word, he left the bowl and took off. I was grateful but most of it I was shocked (on a good way shocked). I don’t know how he knew, as I recall I didn’t say or do anything to let him know, but he was so gentle and careful that I just smile and ate my soup. It really was delicious. I spend a month in Nepal. Not traveling, just spending my days volunteering in the morning and reading and chatting with my friends at the hotel in the afternoons. I’ve always felt that it is easy for me to get along with most of the people, but I had my doubts on how much you can really connect with someone. There could be a lot of languages, cultures, ways of living, but to care for another human being is universal. When I arrived in Nepal my head was only thinking to go back to India as soon as I could but when I left Nagarkot, I didn’t expect to leave a piece of my heart there.