Chaturali

My stay in Chaturali was not at all what I expected it would be, but like most things in Nepal that don't turn out the way I expect, I'm still really glad it happened. I went to Chaturali, a village one hour by bus out of Kathmandu and a 2-3 hour walk from the bus road with Sarah, a volunteer from North Carolina and Peta, a volunteer from Australia.

  

Even though it didn't take long to get there, it's distance from the main road made it feel very remote. We were surrounded by spread out houses among tiers and tiers of rice crops. The village center, where our house was, consisted of a few shops, a little temple, and a communal water tap. We stayed with the Panday family which included a grandmother and grandfather, a father and mother, and two boys and a girl all 13 or 14 years old. They were a wonderful family, and although they spoke very little English, which made communicating difficult at times, they treated us very well. Perhaps a little too well in fact.

Our original plan was for Sarah and Peta to work at the free clinic (they're both considering going into medicine) and for me to spend my time at the home, working on chores with the family and learning what life for people in the hill villages is really like. Unfortunately, the family wasn't comfortable with letting me help with everything. They may have thought I would hurt myself (quite possible with the amount of time they spend cutting things) or I would get in the way (learning how to do new chores is quite difficult with a language barrier) or I think the most likely reason is I had the role of a guest and in the culture guests aren't supposed to work at all. Whatever the reasons, I soon decided that doing solely a home stay wouldn't really keep me occupied. By the end of the two weeks I was able to cajole them into letting me cut up spinach for dinner and I got to try milking the cow and I could even wash my own dishes most of the time. But I needed something else to do. And I decided since I couldn't do the homestay, I would just go back after 2 weeks with Sarah who needed to meet her mom, instead of staying 3 like I originally planned, and Peta decided 2 weeks would be enough too.

Sarah and Peta were having a good time at the medical clinic- the doctor would explain everything to them in English and let them try to take the names and histories of the patients and even let them take blood pressures and give a shot on occasion. I spent some time at the health clinic with them and saw some pretty amazing things like many cases of typhoid and one of cholera, and a pre-natal examination when an ultrasound is not available. However, the clinic was only open from 10-2 and the flow of patients was usually fairly low. I still needed something to occupy my time, especially since medicine isn't my main interest.

Luckily, there was a government school that the kids in the family attended only about a ten-minute walk down the road, and I had been planning to do a teaching placement later. I went to the teacher's lounge one morning and the principal made up a schedule for me that included four 40-minute classes- 7th grade, 6th grade, 4th grade, and 5th grade. I figured I could watch a class or two, make up some lesson plans that night, and start teaching the next day. Unfortunately I wasn't able to communicate this to the principal so he gave me a box of chalk and an eraser and pointed me in the direction of my first class. I arrived in class seven, hoping that a permanent teacher was already there, and around 50 or 60 kids stood up and said in unison, "Good morning, Miss!" I had no school-setting teaching experience, no lesson plan, and the 7th graders just looked at me expectantly, waiting to learn English. So I made up a lesson that involved teaching them the Itsy Bitsy Spider, including the hand motions, and practicing an introductory conversation. It soon became apparent that the kids didn't really understand much English. They understood a little and they could write and copy well, but giving directions was nearly impossible. Most of them were also very shy and wouldn't do much besides sit and copy down things I wrote on the board. Nonetheless I got them to sing most of the Itsy Bitsy Spider and copy down and recite most of a basic conversation. I finally filled up the time and moved on to class six. Having thought of nothing better to do, I repeated this procedure. I tried again with class four, but they spoke such little English and were so badly behaved at the end of the period I felt I hadn't taught them much of anything. They actually shot spit-balls onto the blackboard. As I was walking among them, trying to get them to sing the song, my hand moved toward a kid's head and he flinched. I guess that's how the teacher usually keeps them in line, but I could never hit a kid no matter how badly behaved. That's too big of a cultural divide to overcome. Class five went a little better, but not by much. At the end of the day I was so exhausted and overwhelmed I couldn't even speak. I acquired a whole new respect for all of my teachers. 

The next day I decided it was best to teach just two classes, to the older kids so I wouldn't get so burned out and so they would learn more. That way I could also go the last two hours of the clinic. I discovered that having a lesson plan helped tremendously. I taught family relations, parts of the body, and reading comprehension and vocab with a little story. The only minor mishap was when I was giving stickers to kid in class six who had done their family relations homework. They were so excited to receive stickers for their homework, and the class was so big, that as I went around checking, kids I had already checked would copy their homework and show it to me again to get another sticker. I eventually caught on. That took me through Sunday, the end of the first week, since The kids got Friday off for Nuagi, the rice cutting festival, and Saturday is always a holiday. 

On Monday Sarah and I went with the doctor to do home visits and dispense vitamin A capsules. We walked to a lower-caste village an hour or two walk away, gave the children at the school the vitamin A capsules, and visited different homes to diagnose and treat patients who couldn't come to the clinic. Many of them had typhoid, something I'd heard about but never thought I would see face to face. The families were all very grateful and gave us fruit off their trees or tea and biscuts. I didn't feel I was much help besides keeping people entertained with my attempts at speaking Nepali, but I learned and saw so much. It sort of made me want to become a doctor, just so I could come to a place like Nepal and really do some good. 

I came down with a little cold after that, luckily nothing as bad as typhoid, but my voice wasn't well enough to teach and control a class on my own so Sarah and Peta started coming down to the school after the clinic and helping me to joint-teach lessons. We taught grammar, punctuation, and animals and animal noises for our last class. The last class was absolutely crazy. Animal noises was perhaps a bad idea.

Even with the school and the clinic, we still had abundant free time from 4:30 pm onward and before 10:00 am. Fortunately beautiful walks were in every direction and often yielded fun surprises. We found a little waterfall once, encountered a CRAZY group of children another time who wanted nothing more than to have their pictures taken and to give us every flower they could find and pick along the side of the path, and we discovered a couple beautiful buddhist monuments on a hill with an amazing view on yet another walk. We saw sunsets on the snow-capped mountains quite often, and found an abandoned house. Perhaps my favorite walk was one we took on the Saturday before we left, down to the river at the bottom of the valley. There were big rocks to sunbathe and read on, and the only noise was the rushing of the river. It was slow moving enough at some places to wade in and surrounded by hills of tiered rice. We spent a couple of hours down there, just soaking up Nepal.

We ended up really bonding with our family, especially the grandmother who asked us to call her "Amma" (meaning mother in Nepali). She spoke no English, but she was always laughing and giving us more to eat and would occasionally be able to communicate a thought or two, like 'I want to go back to America with you!' or 'would you like more dahl baat?' When she gave us more food we would always say "Thank you!" and she would repeat "Tankoo!' and burst into laughter. Sometimes she would come into our room where we were reading or doing other things and just sit on the bed and stare at us lovingly. I haven't gotten comfortable with being stared at to the degree I am stared at constantly in Nepal, but for some reason with Amma it didn't bother me at all. Three days before we left she started crying after giving us our tiffin of tea and biscuits and we all ended up in a group hug- three tall foreigners around a tiny Nepalese woman, try to comfort her while she said "Don't go" again and again in Nepali. It was perhaps the most strange and touching moment of my life. 

The kids also wrote some poems and notes for us. My favorite was one by Sushila, the girl:

Life is mathematics

We can solve it

Life is a river

We can cross word

It turns out I really wouldn't have minded staying the full three weeks, but other placements are calling. I just arrived in Banepa to do a placement at a children's hospital. http://www.hrdcnepal.org/main.shtml It does really good work and I'm excited to help by playing with the children who stay there for months and months at a time, undergoing various major surgeries and rehabilitation. It should be good.

The Brampuri Village Experience

Wow. Tihar (known as the festival of lights) at Vinod and Anita’s village in southern Nepal was completely unlike anything I have ever experienced. In the U.S. we’re exposed to a good number of photos depicting people living a traditional village life. Whether it be from National Geographic or T.V. ads asking for donations we see flashes of a life in South America or Africa or Asia that we cannot comprehend. We see the villagers cutting grass by hand or cooking dinner over a wood and cow dung fire or making a religious drawing with a mysterious white liquid on the dirt and we feel removed like that has nothing to do with us. Most of us forget the villager as soon as the picture leaves our vision. All we see are differences.

  Living among traditional villagers in a developing country as a friend of the family makes me see those pictures differently. I saw the villagers doing the things depicted in the pictures, but I also helped to cook and eat that dinner and I used the flour and water to draw in the dirt. And I saw them after they did these things…I saw them bantering and laughing with their extended family over the holidays just like I do with mine and I saw my friend’s little nephew acting and playing and screaming and laughing just like I’ve seen my nephew do and I saw the younger generation playing music on their cell phones and the father of my friend stringing up lights for the holiday and my friend braiding her sister’s hair. It’s much easier to find the similarities when you live among people than it is by seeing a picture of them. The differences are still there but they don’t matter as much. I was engaged in the rhythm of their lives and the beat was the same as mine, even if the sound was different.

The journey started with what was supposed to be an 11 hour bus ride, but given that we were in Nepal it turned into a 16 hour bus ride. We drove through the night, my fleeting dreams accompanied by blaring Hindi movies and the stories of Vinod whose favorite line is “Do you want to hear a funny story?” We arrived to the town around 8 in the morning. We were met by Vinod and Anita’s father who took us to the village via his motorbike and a borrowed one., eliminating the 45 minute walk with our luggage.

The house consists of one two room concrete lodging. One of the rooms is used as a bedroom and the other is storage and the house temple. In the back is a mud hut they use to store things and cook in when it rains. There is a pump between the two houses where all of the water comes from and a small dirt yard in front of the concrete house, which is surrounded by a tall wall and is where the family cooks normally. Already there when we arrived were my friends’ father, mother, nephew by their older sister and Anita’s twin sister Sunita who stays at Papa’s House, but had already gone home for the previous Dashain festival. Their paternal grandfather was also around and their paternal grandmother was in the village but she was very sick so I didn’t see her much.

  My first day there I helped to cut the vegetables for our dinner and paint the design in the front yard leading the gods to the temple in the house where festival offerings would be laid out for them. Thanks to the plentiful dye in the mixture and the use of my hand as a paintbrush my hand would turn from dark to neon to a sunburnt pink over the next five days. I also prayed with my friends’ mother and realized that I’m not used to sitting cross legged for long periods of time. That night Sunita lit a cross of straw on fire. Holding it in one hand she took me by the other hand and led me half-running, barefoot, through the paths between the houses to main dirt road of the village. Every house had candles burning, and when we got to the main road she handed me the straw to move in circles. The people coming together on the main road, illuminated by fire on the otherwise pitch black night created a magical feeling. We were soon joined by the rest of the family armed with firecrackers and balls of old cloth soaked in oil and attached to a wire which were then lit on fire and twirled. My friends’ nephew, Puru, was especially exited by the sparklers. 

The next day was cow day of the festival where they honor the cow goddess Lakshima by putting tikka, or dye, on all of the cows. Anita and her mother also made people figures on the ground out of cow dung and decorated them with flowers. Later Vinod and Anita and I walked to the town where the bus dropped us off to buy vegetables for the next few days. The market was probably the most colorful place I had ever been. It was noisy and busy and I was the only white person in the entire town. Everyone stared at me like I was the first foreigner they had ever seen, and for a lot of them I probably was. Places like this don’t draw the tourists. I have never felt so many eyes on me in my life. It was funny at first but over time I grew increasingly uncomfortable. It was kind of like being the main attraction at a zoo. I felt much better when Vinod and Anita took me to a little shop and surprised me by buying me and armful of green plastic bangles. We walked back to the village and a little later their older sister came with her daughter. The one bedroom was filling up…

Monday was brother’s day. In the morning Vinod took me on a tour around the village. He showed me the one government run school of the village that was very run-down, and on vacation for the holiday. He showed me where the lower-caste bamboo cutters lived and worked, and we saw a man making a basket out of bamboo. He also showed me where the higher caste lives and we ran into one of the richest woman villagers who used to feed Vinod and his sisters when their parents were too in debt to do so. This was followed by a touching brother’s day ceremony where Vinod got tikka and garlands from his three sisters and Puru got tikka and garlands from his little sister Hassina. Then Vinod and Puru gave gifts to their sisters and touched their feet in respect, the way they do with their elders as a greeting. That night when it got dark Vinod and I went on the roof to watch the stars. He started telling me about his life, a story which is one of the most heartbreaking and hopeful stories I’ve heard. The things his family has had to overcome are incredible.

  The next day was our last in the village. In the morning Anita took me to visit some of her friends in the village…an experience that would have been much more rewarding if I had better Nepali or knew any Mathili, the native village language. Some people spoke broken English, but our conversation was limited to “What is your name, how are you, and do you like the village?” Still, it was fun to meet the different villagers. Then we took some family photos and my friends’ father took us all via ox transport to catch our night bus back to Kathmandu. When we got back I gave Vinod and Anita and Sunita the pictures I had taken over the five day trip. They were very grateful because for them these were pictures of family and home that they wouldn't have otherwise had the means to capture. To you the pictures may look like just another village in a developing nation but to me and Vinod and Anita and Sunita they represent memories that will stay with us forever.

P.S. No more updates for the next three weeks-I'm leaving to do a homestay placement in a very remote mountain village. Hopefully I'll know how to cook a good Nepali meal by the time I return!

Sights of Kathmandu and Some Planning

Ever since Felicia left me to go trekking, I've been taking day trips around Kathmandu and some evening trips into Thamel, the tourist district, with Blanca, Sam, and Jill-other volunteers in the house now. 

I went with Sushmita to a young children's orphanage in the city that might become a new volunteer placement to check it out and take pictures. I finally went to Boudha, the main touristy monastery of Kathmandu with Blanca and Sam, a place that every self-respecting foreigner in Nepal must go at some point. I bought fabric for two Kurta Surals (Nepali tunic, pants and scarf sets) and dropped them off to get tailored. I don't know how much they'll help me blend in but they are so beautiful. I  bought the face mask that most of the locals wear to help with the pollution concentrated around the main roads and bus parks. I've been working on learning more Nepali and I've learned a new favorite Nepali phrase- jindagi yestai ho (such is life). and I can successfully buy fruit and vegetables using only Nepali.  I got violently ill thanks to food poisoning from a bad lassi at the neighborhood restaurant, but it only lasted a night and an extended trip to Nepal probably wouldn't feel complete without it. Although Kathmandu is nice and it's good to have time to read and write and use the internet, I'm looking forward to going somewhere new also. 

I've just decided to go with Vinod and Anita, a brother and sister who work for Nepal Orphan's Home and the volunteer program to their Village for the five day festival of Tihar. They live in a remote village down in the Terai, the southern part of Nepal bordering on India. It will be interesting to see a different part of Nepal and to help with all the festival celebrations. Vinod and Anita are really fun, and I'm really looking forward to it even with the 11 hour bus ride and 90-degree weather I've heard about. 

After I get back I'm going to hopefully start a homestay- learn how to cook Nepali food, help with the household chores, and do some language immersion, maybe in Trisouli (a village 3 hours north west of Kathmandu). After that I might work at a children's hospital and then I might go back to my orphanage to teach in a local school and all that will pretty much take through the end of my time here. This is all tentative, of course, plans don't really get set in stone until they happen in Nepal. Jindagi yestai ho.

Three Incredible Weeks at Guarishankar Boy's Home

I could not have imagined a better first placement.

An Australian volunteer, Felicia, and I went to a boys' orphanage in a small village called Mati near Charikot in the district of Dolakha. Since we were there during the Dashain Fesitval, the biggest festival in Nepal, the boys didn't have school for most of the three weeks. We taught a couple fun and optional classes each day in oral English, arts and crafts, and American/Australian culture. 

Since their school classes are taught mainly in English they already knew enough that we could focus on pronunciation. We taught the boys how to pronounce 'th' and 'sh' using tongue twisters we made up. We taught them the lyrics to Are You Gonna Be My Girl by Jet, I Want It That Way by the Backstreet Boys, Don't Matter by Akon, My Heart Will Go On by Celine Dion and When September Ends by Green Day. We taught them the Hokey Pokey and the Itsy Bitsy Spider and Old MacDonald Had a Farm (Their favorite part was EE I EE I OH and their animal noises were extremely authentic). We taught them the Heel and Toe dance and the Cotton Eyed Joe dance and Red Rover. We taught them how to make friendship bracelets (they loved that) and contour drawing and oragami and how to make paper snowflakes. By the end the wall was covered in all kinds of art projects.

Although we taught them all that, I think we learned even more. We learned so many new Nepali words, half of which had to do with food (Nepali hanna mito cha, Nepali food is delicious and malai pugyo, I am full). The boys were overly helpful in teaching us words, occasionally we were a little overwhelmed. In one half hour sitting I wrote down over 300 vocabulary words that they were yelling out all at once. We learned how to eat properly with our hands and how to write our full names in Nepali. We learned how to bathe with just a bucket and a scoop and we learned all the words to Resham Firiri, a popular Nepali song. We learned the Nepali national flower (Rhodedendron), national animal (cow), geography, dances, movies, dress, and about the new government. We got Tikka multiple times (rice, milk, and red dye that sticks on the forhead) and walked barefoot over freshly sacrificed goats blood at temple. We had tongba, a strong fermented millet drink, and learned how to swing on a Dashain swing. It's a lot harder than it looks. 

The boys were so sweet. They were so excited to learn and so excited to share and more than anything they loved to sing and dance. 

The boys and the cooks and Uncle and Auntie and Sir were all so incredibly hospitable. They told us when we came that one of the Hindu stories is about a visitor that turns out to be a God in disguise, so you're supposed to treat all of your guests as if they were Gods. And they did. Three cooks grew all the vegetables and cooked all the meals for the whole orphanage, and every meal was delicious. For Breakfast and dinner we had a big pile of rice with two different vegetable curries that changed every meal, some sort of acchar (spicy pickle of tomato or vegetables) and a bowl of thick perfectly spiced dhal (lentil soup) We also got cucumber and fried egg sometimes. For tiffin (lunch) we had freshly baked chipatti bread or alo chips (fried potato slices) or sweet puffed rice. And we were served the most delicious tea three times a day. It was heavenly. 

The boys would also take us on exploring walks through the area, showing us all the different plants and views and animals. It was cloudy a lot of the time, but on the clear days the mountains were absolutely stunning. on the partially cloudy days the sunsets were the best I've ever seen. 

I also got extremely lucky in being placed with Felicia. We had only known each other a day or two when we decided to go, but we ended up getting along really well. We were endlessly entertained by comparing the slang words and accents of Australia and America. I, for the life of me, cannot say 'Oh' in an Australian accent and Felicia cannot pronounce 'R' because in Australia "We say 'R' silently, inside our mouths" We had some great adventures killing multitudes of spiders and flies and mosquitoes that found their way into our room. Although Felicia is terrified of and grossed out by all birds, she's very adept at killing bugs. She made my 19th birthday in Nepal totally sweet by buying me a huge pile of cookies from the local bakery and sticking a fat candle in the middle and having all the kids sing. She was great at helping to come up with ideas for classes, and great at teaching them with me. We worked really well together and were always on the same page. The placement would definitely not have been as great without her.  

Time has an entirely different consistency in this country. The past three weeks seemed to pass so quickly, but at the same time I feel like I'd been there for a year. Saying goodbye was so hard and I have a feeling I'll be pulled back there before my time in Nepal is finished.

Swayambhu and Other Adventures Around Kathmandu

I might have gone a little overboard yesterday. I got four pairs of pants, one t-shirt, one headband, postcards, stamps, flip flops, and a few groceries. Luckily my huge shopping spree cost me less than 25 USD. And now I have pants. I also got to go with some of the girls to buy new clothes for Dashain, a huge christmas-like festival coming up.

Also yesterday, since it was sanibar(Saturday) and all the kids have the day off from school, the children from both orphanages and all the volunteers went up to papa's house for tiffin (a light lunchtime meal) I remembered my camera this time and took pictures of Sushmita (on the right), one of my favorite girls from the home.

Today Sushmita, who works at the volunteer house to help orient volunteers, not to be confused with Sushmita in the picture, took Felicia, a new volunteer from Australia, and me to see Swayambhu- a beautiful Buddhist temple. I've never seen so many prayer flags in my life. We came to three huge gold statues-one of Buddha, one of the person who founded the Kathmandu valley, and one of the person who brought Buddhism to Nepal. Sushmita told me Kathmandu valley actually used to be a lake, the person who founded it had to drain the whole lake before they could settle it. We then climbed a lot of stairs up to a little monastery where there was a view of the whole Kathmandu valley. I did not realize quite how big Kathmandu is, but it is huge.

Perhaps the most important event today was choosing my first placement. Felicia and I decided to both go to an orphanage in the mountainous region of Dolakha for three weeks. No one from Volunteer Nepal has been before, but we're happy to be the first. We had to find an orphanage because we'll be there for Dashain and all the schools will be closed for at least two weeks. We also wanted to be in the mountains. I love mountains. We'll leave the day after tomorrow hopefully. 

Diving In

Traveling for periods of 30 hours straight can be extremely stressful. Like when the kid sitting next to you on an 8 hour flight pees his pants half way 

through. Or when you realize your mother was right, you really 

should have brought sweatpants in your carry-on because even when staying past security in an Indian airport, wearing shorts gathers looks equivalent to walking around topless in the West. Or when the people in the Indian airport assure you that you should be waiting in a sitting room, which they won't let you leave, to receive your boarding pass even when you keep bugging them because your flight is leaving in an hour...45 minutes...30 minutes...it's boarding...15 minutes and finally someone runs into the waiting room with your boarding pass and scolds you for not coming to get your boarding pass. For instance.

But all this makes it that much nicer when you're riding through a city that, albeit dusty and crowded, is so colorful and lively and fresh and interesting and full of promise that you know it was all more than worth it.

I almost went to a museum today with Sam, Sam, and Doug (three other volunteers) and Sushima, who works at the volunteer house. After piling into a bus meant for 10 people with 25 other people we weaved our way through the streets of Kathmandu. Driving in Kathmandu is an experience. People generally drive on the left side of the road, generally being the key word. There are little to no traffic signs, stoplights or lines in the road- or really any guidelines besides constant honking of people passing and cutting. With the amount of near misses, there should be a decent amount of crashes but the cars always just barley miss each other and motorbikes and pedestrians. I sort of felt like I was on the knight bus from Harry Potter the way we squeezed through some spaces. Anyway, we got there to find a Maoist protest just starting. While it was a fairly peaceful protest, we had to skip the museum and stay on the bus as it looped back home to make sure we didn't get stuck in blocked streets and huge crowds carrying red flags. It was sweaty and bumpy and uncomfortable and seemly pointless but also exhilarating and a nice whirlwind first tour of the city.

By far the best part of the day came later when the other four volunteer girls and I  walked the girls who live in the orphan house up the road back home from school. They were so welcoming and excited. They wanted to hold our hands and braid our hair and take pictures with our cameras and get help on their homework and play basketball with us and they were so warm and adorable and well-intentioned but also a little mischievous. Hopefully I'll get to visit the other girl's house down the road tomorrow. I'm also going shopping for pants tomorrow, so I can stop wearing the one long skirt I brought. Pants. That's key.

Preparations

I'm starting to pack...there's no list or guide to follow, although Michael, who runs the program, is very good about answering specific questions. It's a thin line to walk between too much and too little. I have about half of what I'll be packing out (see the picture) and already I feel it might be too much.

When I asked about packing, Michael gave this guidance:

"my travel philosophy is and always has been travel light, in luggage as well as expectations."

When I asked specifically about how many clothes to bring he replied:

"One or two changes of clothes maximum; feel things out here and then buy according to the changes in weather. The clothing is not expensive and you can find western style clothes everywhere; or dress more Nepali if you chose to."

As it is I think I'm bringing three changes, a big compromise for me. I'm the type of person who likes to be prepared. Making lists is my favorite hobby and my purse is always full with things I might, but probably won't, need. Not to mention my mother has a fit imagining me going away from home without a warm layer or, heaven forbid, a raincoat. Or without two different ways to purify water. So my pack is starting to look pretty full. I do like the idea of starting to dress more Nepali...

Speaking of lists, things I have to do before I leave:

Get a couple things at CVS

Get traveler's checks at the bank

Pay for the program

Make photocopies of important documents

Finish learning the Nepali words Michael gave me that will be useful to know if I do a teaching placement with kids that speak no English

Plus lifeguarding 40 hours this week and going to a Kings of Leon concert. It's manageable.