My Week of Buddhism

The Boudhanath stupa and prayer flags

This past week my friend Sam and I took a week off of volunteering to take some courses in Tibetan Buddhism, which I have to say was a great idea. I have learned a lot in the past week about the Three Jewels and meditation, and I’ve also gotten to live in Boudhanath (an area of Kathmandu that houses the largest and most important stupa in Nepal… it is very important to Tibetan Buddhists; the Boudhanath stupa is at least 1500 years old). Every morning I woke up to the sound of large trumpets (think 6 foot long Narnia-style) and drums being played and numerous monks chanting in the monastery that was right next door to our guest house. Sam and I had all mornings free (class was in the evenings) so we usually spent some time sitting in one of the nearby cafes to have some coffee and breakfast (which is a delicacy after our month in Dolpa); the Saturday Café is my favourite, as they make delicious organic and vegan foods to order… their porridge with dates and raisins is the greatest. I’ve been drinking lots of tea and reading lots of books (our guest house had a “library” as well!) and spending a little time walking around the stupa and watching the monks and tourists intermingling. A second meal in the afternoon usually finished me off for food for the day, and then it was time for class.

We took two courses: one was on the key points of Buddhism taught by Loppon Yeshe Phuntsok. He seemed pretty cool. He spoke through a translator and would answer any questions we had as best as he could after class. The most difficult tenet for me to grasp is the one of giving up attachment. I don’t think it’s difficult to give up attachment to things, I’ll do that in a heartbeat; but I’m a people person, and I can’t give up loving my family and friends. However, one of the girls studying at the Institute explained it to me better: “It’s not that you love your family less, it’s that you love all sentient beings [even enemies] just as much as you love your family.” Now that is something to aspire to.

An old woman feeds the pigeons near the stupa

Meditation class was on Saturday and Sunday and was taught by Khenpo Jampa Donden. I thought I would be really interested in this class, but the two day session failed to impress me. I, as a person trained in very basic meditation (like what I’d read in books), already knew and had practiced the type of meditation he described on both Saturday and Sunday, and I didn’t really learn anything new about it. But I suppose the main lesson I learned is that one actually has to practice meditation--something I’m not very, um, tenacious about. And meditation is very important, apparently… gonna have to get on that one.

Our Classroom at the Rangjung Yeshe Institute

Also on Saturday, the main monk of the gompa (temple) where we’re studying gave a talk. His name is Chokyi Nyima Rinpoche and he’s very much admired and respected around these parts… well, everywhere really--he’s got institutes in California and Austria as well, and he travels a whole lot to visit all kinds of places. His talk was very nice, it was about surrounding ourselves with the right kind of people. (If you surround yourself with negative people or people attached to disturbing emotions, you too will become disturbed; if you surround yourself with people focused on loving-kindness and compassion then you too will become a loving and compassionate person. Seems simple enough.) The gompa was amazing inside, and while I sat listening to Rinpoche talk (through a very talented translator) I put myself in the 7-fold posture (a posture for meditation) and was surprised that what they’ve been saying is true: I almost immediately entered a state of meditative concentration and stayed that way for quite some time. It was really cool to experience; I was meditating in a gompa in the most important Buddhist center in Nepal, listening to a renowned Rinpoche speak. Rock on.

The seto gompa on a beautiful October day.

In the evenings we might watch TV, but many times we used the time to read or correspond using the internet. It’s been a pretty chill life for the week, but just what the doctor ordered after the month in Dolpa and before I head out to my next assignment--a hospital and clinic in the small (and close to Kathmandu!) town of Banepa. I can’t wait to update you guys on that one.

A shopkeeper at Boudha puts away his wares by candle light during a break in the electricity.

Please let me know on here if anyone is interested in a post about what I’ve learned this past week. I can summarize and explain the key points of Buddhism for you from my notes. It will be a long post, but it’s really interesting stuff.

A view of the edge of the stupa and the surrounding shops at nighttime.

Good news/Bad news

Pradeep pays more attention to the camera than the classwork.

Hello everyone! I have to say, right now, thank you guys for following my blog. It’s nice to know that people care about what I’m doing in the world, and it’s always great to have your comments on here. I miss you all, and I’m glad you enjoy all the stuff I’m putting up here for you.

I have to share some good news/bad news with you. The good news is (***drum roll please…***) I’ll be home for Christmas! The bad news is, of course, I’m cutting short my planned trip. It’s always difficult to shorten the range of your goals (especially when your goals were to work in a developing nation helping educate its youth) and not feel like you’re failing in some way, but as I’ve spent time in Nepal, I’ve realized that in the time I’m spending here and the experiences I’m a part of end up being more for me than those I’m helping. I’ve seen in multiple situations that the Nepali people want to help themselves and sometimes think that they know how to do it better than I do (or any Westerner does). Many are very grateful, it’s true, and I could never diss the Nepali people--they are always so welcoming, friendly, accepting, and kind. But I do see a lot of corruption, and a lot of using the system that I think needs to be ameliorated. I also know that it is difficult to come into a country as foreign to me as Nepal and expect understand what they need or help them obtain it in a way that doesn’t insult their intelligence or culture. While the organization I’m with has GOT IT DOWN (I would recommend that anyone and everyone give to this cause or offer their help--please if you have any questions about how it’s run or where the money goes and why this is the best cause to give to, email me, call me, whatever. I’d be more than happy to talk your ear off), I believe that it took and takes a lot of cultural understanding that I don’t have and cannot attain in only five months.

All of that being said, I do miss my family very much (and my friends, I miss you too!). I have realized how important you all are to my life, and even though I am self sufficient and I’m having these amazing experiences on my own (thanks again, friends and family, for raising me right!) I definitely want to be home for Christmas and New Years and my niece’s first birthday and to see my nephew’s Christmas program if he has one, etc etc. I know now (especially seeing the Nepali culture with homes containing grandparents, parents, and children; the small villages that hold multiple generations; the siblings reunited after long times apart) how important my family is to me, and how good it is to be able to rely on friends for advice or a talk through a problem. I love and miss every one of you who is reading this blog huncha-bunches.

I think that this trip has helped me most to understand what amazing blessings I have (such as toilet paper and an economy that does not require bargaining or bartering), and how fantastically lucky I am to have the education I do. I hope to keep studying and learning, and therefore gain some of the brainpower to solve the problems I’m encountering here and throughout my travels--but solving those problems will take a lot of brainstorming and discussion and months and weeks and days and years and nights and forever* before I can help to chip the tip off of the iceberg.
So I’ll be home in only six months instead of seven. Woohoo! I can’t wait to see you all in December….

*e. e. cummings reference, “what Got him was Not/hing”; if you want the whole poem, email me (or google it), it’s awesome.

Dashain Days in Dolpa

Dashain is the biggest holiday in Nepal (or other Hindu countries), somewhat similar to Christmas. It celebrates the goddess Durga and her slaying of lots and lots of demons… for this reason, tons of goats are sacrificed to Durga on the day of Dashain; the temples literally run with blood. The vacations for Dashain last one entire month for public schools, and give most people the chance to travel home to their families and visit for a long time.

Two days before the actual feast of Dashain, we got to participate in another festival, more locally based, that again involved Gunga’s brother, the “goddess” Diphendra. This festival was very similar to the others, with lots of dancing and handing out of strands of colored fabric (red and white) and handfuls of rice. This time it also involved roti, the fried flatbread made of flour and water, although we think some kind of cornmeal was involved in some of the roti this time, which was delish.

Making chapati at the temple.

Diphendra and another priest handing out cloth thingies.

I woke the day of Dashain early because of a nightmare and had some extra time to go out and lay out on the roof to watch the stars (I saw three shooting ones!). Once the rest of the town was up, we waited to hear on the radio when the official priest-astrologers would declare the best time for starting the Dashain celebrations (it was 10:55 this year). We were invited to the home of one of the founders of the boarding school, Hom. He was there with the principal of the school, Gopal, and the remaining teacher, Gurung (as the other two teachers had been fired a week before for beating the children as punishment). We sat and chatted for a while, had a Tuborg beer (I don’t even like beer, and that was one of the most delicious drinks I’ve had), and then at 10:55 started the festivities with tika giving. Hom gave his children tika as blessings and some rupees as treats. He, Gopal, and Gurung also gave Sam and I tika, and eventually, after more chatting and more beer, we had some lunch. Sam and I decided to be true Nepalis today and eat with our hands. Sam also partook of some of the mutton that had been slaughtered the day before. ‘Twas nice.

The Dashain fare at Hom's house.

At around 12:30, we left Hom, thanking him so much for his hospitality and the chance to teach at his school. We went to Gunga’s family’s house (as we had missed the tika at Tarak’s house because we were at Hom’s… It is a lot like Christmas, isn’t it?) in the neighboring village, where we were tika-ed and we received rupees this time as well! I got 40 whole rupees (about 50 cents) from Gunga’s mum and pop, which I was extremely pleased with--not kidding--as we’ve sort of run out of money up here in the mountains. We also got to see Gunga’s niece’s first Dashain; she got lots of tika, lots of money, and also at her first food, some dudh bhaat, or rice with milk. (She doesn’t have a name yet--they just call her “bhoine” (little sister) and they will name her when she turns a year old.) We were invited to have some dudh bhaat as well, rice with warmed buffalo milk--it was almost sweet and very good, although difficult to eat with hands and no spoons.

Baby bhoine getting tika and her first rice.

Then we were led by a kindly relative away from Gunga’s; we misunderstood and thought she was taking us home, so we were a little surprised when we stopped at another house. It was a lovely house, full of lovely women and children who tika-ed us again and gave us more rupees and more food. Just tarkari this time and some sweet roti and these little circle thingies that are kinda like giri but without syrup. Delish. It was a lovely time, we had some great conversations, I think; it’s difficult to tell when none of the Westerners speak Nepali and none of the Nepalis speak English. But it was nice. Eventually we left there, led away by another nice woman with a baby (named Mahan) on her back; we went took some shortcuts through cornfields, stopping to pick up some fresh cobs to roast on the fire for supper, and strolling through the beautiful sunshine and breeze whispering through the stalks. It was beautiful.

Me in kurta and tika at the end of the day.

My haul--100 rupees and an ear of corn.

I ate so much that I was fit to burst by the end of the evening. The next day brought our flight out of Juphal to Nepalgunj, where hotel and bus were taken care of remarkably easy, and the day after was a fourteen hour bus ride, the last hour (and curviest roads) were driven in the dark. But we made it back safe and sound, and were very happy to find the volunteer house. It was packed with new volunteers (six of them) which has been a little difficult (although I shouldn’t, I get a little irritated when they explain to me Nepali etiquette as if I hadn’t been living with it longer than they have… Understandable, but irritating). Soon everyone is leaving on a trek, however, and I will be spending the next week at Boudanath enrolled in a short course on Buddhism and meditation. I can’t wait for the short time to relax and rejuvenate so I’m ready for my new placements in October and November!

Terminal One at the Juphal Airport... on our way to Nepalgunj again.

*singing* Schoooool’s Out-- for-- the Dashain

My crazy UKG Class: Pradeep, Biplop, Sashila.

Well, today was our last day of school. It’s hard to believe that I’ve been here in Dolpa and teaching for four whole weeks, but time flies when there’s so much to do. I wish I could keep teaching--I have so many lessons planned out and need to keep going, plus I’ve grown so attached to the kids here, even Class I which I had trouble with at first. In Class I, Luckie is very smart, but needs to learn to stay in his seat and chup (be quiet), Bipana is the cutest and smartest girl in the class, and Pukar is always ready to help. UKG has Sashila, a very smart young lady, and Biplop, who I swear will be the next PM of Nepal. LKG is a madhouse, but Seshman and Amar are very smart as long as they aren‘t seated next to each other, and Sujata isn’t far behind if she’d pay attention; Manisha, Sova, and Durga are all terribly bright too. *Sigh* I’m SO gonna miss these kids.

But anyways *wipes away a tear*, today we taught the first four periods but were told that periods 5, 6, and 7 were cancelled as the kids had a program for us. We went down to the school after tiffin and all of the kids lined up while we were seated at the front of the playground. Three of the school founders came along with the teachers. Everyone made speeches (including us… I wish I’d had time to prepare!) and we were presented with official papers thanking us for our time volunteering. Then all of the kids, each of the fifty-three who were at school today (many have already gone home for Dashain (see the next post!)), gave us tika. It was so sweet, and such a mess! Tika is powdered dye or a dyed rice mix applied to the forehead as a blessing; today it was just a red powder, applied by a bunch of little kids, so it was all over our foreheads and clothes. The officials gave us tika as well, and then presented us with khata, which are white scarves sometimes called “journey scarves” to wish a safe journey; they‘re also given as gifts to Tibetan Buddhist lamas… the combination of the Hindu and Buddhist religions here is pretty cool. Then after a photo with all of the kids, school was dismissed and everyone went running home since Dashain is the biggest holiday, and this is akin to Christmas vacation.

Puspa (LKG) applying my tika

Amar getting ready to tika me

I must note that today in UKG we didn’t really stick to our lesson plan, instead taking a short break for photos (Biplop, Sashila, and Saugat are my pets, I’m afraid to say) and also to analyze a certain old wive’s tale. I have unfortunately been eaten alive by bugs here (including bed bugs)… you’d think we were high up enough at 3000 feet to be away from bugs, but nope. Anyways, my ankles are covvvverred in bug bites, and since I was scratching a lot, the kids told me how to fix it. Apparently, I need to get a piece of roti (fried flatbread) and scrape my ankles with it, and then feed it to a very dirty dog. I thought that’s what they were trying to tell me, but I didn’t believe that I’d heard them right until they illustrated the entire event on the whiteboard with stick people (and stick dogs). I almost died laughing. But that does not mean I’m beyond trying it. I’ll let you know how it turns out.

Me with UKG

Dunai was not exactly New York (Title borrowed from Sam B)

On September twelfth, I and my two travel buddies, Sarah and Sam, journeyed to the “big city” of Dunai. Dunai is the headquarters of the Dolpo district, and we had been told by the chef here (Im) that it was a very big city. (It has less than 200 buildings.) We were also told that it was a 2 to 2.5 hour walk along a main thoroughfare (a walking thoroughfare that is; there are no cars here).

The day started out lovely. We got up early to watch the sunrise, which was beautiful, with gray clouds growing into hot pink and then fading to creamsicle above the mountains. We had some tea, got some water ready for the trip and headed out.

It took us an hour to get down our mountain and then we started walking on the larger road that runs parallel to a river coursing through the mountains. The scenery was beautiful, with lots of mountains popping up here and there, large cypress trees, and huge rock falls beneath sheer cliffs. The sun was out and so the weather was warm, but there was a lovely breeze following us everywhere we went that made the temperature perfect.

On the way down the mountain: pink flowers and steep slopes.

A view of a tributary river and a wonky mountain.

A special tree (with many string offerings tied to it) under a sheer cliff side.

After the three hour mark and no sign of the city (remember, I was told 2.5 hours tops) I started to get a little nervous. We finally arrived 3.5 hours after we set off into a small village nestled along the right bank of the roaring river. We quickly passed through the town looking for food, especially the momos (steamed dumplings) we were told the restaurants there had. None of the restaurants had them, so we settled for egg omelets (with onions, yum!) and some buffalo milk tea (it tasted extremely, um, earthy).

Sarah posing with our omelets and buff milk tchiyaa.

After that we crossed the river on a rickety wooden bridge to visit a monastery up the hill. Luckily enough, right next to the monastery is a private boarding school. We were invited in to talk to the principle and one of the teachers and given the most delicious coffee I’ve had in Nepal. The school seems to be run very nicely, with a good rewards system and teachers in an English medium for grades Nursery through 5. I was very excited to see that they also had a library, which included Dr. Seuss (The Lorax), Shel Silverstein (The Giving Tree), and college level books on Ecology. After the school we headed up further on the hill to the Bonpo monastery. Bonpo is the pre-Buddhist religion in the region. It had a nice little mundir (temple) high up, surrounded by prayer flags of every shape and size; we circumambulated counter-clockwise (in contrast to the Buddhist clockwise) and then made our way back down the hill.

I have to note that on the hillside of Dunai, I realized that the city had the most energetic feeling. I don’t know how to describe it; it was almost peaceful, but more ancient and powerful. I immediately thought of the magnetic hotspots I’ve seen in specials on channels like the Discovery Channel, and I have a feeling I’ll have to investigate that further. It was so strong and yet subtle, and most of all earthy. It made me extremely happy. It would be difficult to be unhappy with that scenery, but this made the experience awesome (I mean awesome in it’s non-vernacular way) for me.

The Bonpo temple on the side of a mountain in Dunai

Once we were back in the city the search for momos recommenced. We were told that somewhere would have them, but no one seemed to. Once we finally found a place that had momos, we sat down, and one of my travel partners was sexually assaulted about thirty seconds after we got in the door. Needless to say, we got up and left immediately. I hate to get on a negative kick, but men never fail to disappoint me, wherever I go, ever. Having been sexually assaulted twice in my 22 short years of life, I tend to get extremely angry whenever someone close to me is harassed or assaulted, especially in my presence. I’m glad that I wasn’t certain which one of the men did the assaulting because I’m afraid I would have caused a scene. It amazes me that nearly every single woman I know has an assault story, and that it just keeps happening. I don’t understand what the hell happens in men’s minds… it doesn’t matter if you’re uneducated or you’re drunk, to me there is absolutely no excuse. Nepal only exacerbates the situation unfortunately; men tend to stare at white women and most expect that their morals are a little looser than the women of Nepal… I’m going to do my best to overcome my anger quickly, because I’m afraid I might really snap at the next man who leers at me. I am glad, however, that I’m in Nepal and not involved in a relationship right now, because needless to say, my boyfriend would not be gettin’ any for a month or so. (Amendment: Add two harassments during Dashain to that assault, please.)

After that we bought some sweets and samosas for the trip home, and stopped by a café on the edge of town for some chowmein. We headed out, picking up a couple of taggers-on on our way. At first we basically ignored them because we figured they wanted money, but they just wanted to hang out with us. We spoke an odd mixture of English and a little Nepali, spelling words in English and trying to communicate our likes and dislikes in Nepali. We shared our sweets with them, and they stopped with us whenever we needed a break from the walk. Unfortunately, Sam’s legs started hurting her about halfway back from Dunai. The walk was a lot to take on in a single day, and while we had considered breaking it into two and staying the night in Dunai, we had vetoed that decision and tried to tough it out. But Sam’s legs eventually got to the point where she literally couldn’t walk but a hundred feet without pausing to stretch, so Sarah ran ahead to get help while Sam and I took it slow because my legs were killing me as well. (Sarah is a mountain goat, literally, she’s all over the place. I don’t know how she ran up the mountain as fast as she did.) Sam and I got to the base of the mountain, but Sam’s legs were just too bad, we had to go steps at a time, and as I could not see any donkeys coming and the sun was starting to set, I seriously started making plans to camp at the side of the road for the night.

One of our young friends made on the way back.

Well help came finally, just not in the form we expected. I had been watching for a donkey, but our savior came as a boy named Nahendra. The people of Nepal carry heavy loads by tying a strap around the back or bottom of the load and then around their forehead, supporting the weight up the mountains half on their backs and half on their heads. Nahendra, a nineteen year old student, came with a scarf which he tied around Sam’s bottom and then around his forehead. He literally carried her up the mountain like he would a bundle of sticks. I did not know whether to laugh or to cry, I think I was doing both. It was an emotionally and physically exhausting day for all of us, I know, and this was the cherry on top. This guy was amazingly strong (he can carry 70 kilos in this fashion! (Sam weighs less than that, btw, just so you know)) and we hiked the long way around so that the slope was less steep; however, it made for a much longer hike, and we ended up getting back to our hotel five hours after we left Dunai. After getting Sam into bed and plied with ibuprofen, Sarah and I ate a quick supper, and then it was bedtime for all of us. The day was a debacle, but I have to be grateful for the weather, the subtle energy-laden feeling of Dunai, and my friends, all of which helped make the experience a positive one in general.

Ancestral Festival

(Sorry guys, no photos; since this was spurt of the moment, I didn't have my camera with me!)

Guess what: Today we got to play hooky! We went to teach at the school in the morning, as per usual, but this afternoon before we had a chance to go back for sixth and seventh periods, Tarak invited us along to take part of a Hindu festival. His father was performing a puja (blessings) for his grandfather. Within several days during this Hindu month, the patriarch of a family performs a ritual to honor and remember their ancestors, therefore gaining their good will. Tarak told me that if they didn’t make these offerings then their ancestors would be angry and wouldn’t “give us what we want.” There was a Brahmin (priest) there who was leading Tarak’s father through the steps: there was a lot of incense and one butter candle involved; rolling of rice balls; offering of fruits like apples, pomegranates, and cucumbers; drawing of symbols in ashes on the floor; and of course, an exchange of money. Everyone received a tika, and then there was a feast! We got to eat cucumber, roast potatoes, roast corn, pomegranate, a lemon-sorbet-ish-tasting-melon-like fruit, chapati (fried bread like tortilla chips, my personal favorite), and cooked pumpkin. After we had gorged ourselves on all of that, they brought out the daal bhaat! We didn’t know there would be more food, or we definitely wouldn’t have eaten so much. And, as an add-on, they weren’t expecting white people so we didn’t have utensils. Sarah, Sam and I have toyed with the idea of eating the Nepali way--with your hands--before, but we’d never been brave enough to try it. Well, today was our lucky day! It was messy, but I think I did an admirable job, considering I haven’t eaten with my hands since I was about four; plus, this is not like fried chicken, sandwiches, or French fries… this is rice with lentil soup poured over it and mushy vegetables… difficult to handle with your hands unless you’re an expert, I think. It was a very cool festival to be a part of though, and I’m glad we were welcomed into such a special day.

A day in the life of a Dolpa-ite:

The early morning mountains and clouds reflected in the mirror.

Rise and shine early in the morning at 0530. Battle porters staying at our “hotel” for the very dirty, smelly, grimy squat toilets. Sometimes a hike, but always meditation, yoga, core work. Tea. Wash face, and look up into the mirror to be astounded by the view reflected: three large mountains dominate the background, with a deep river running between them. Splash a little water out for Mickey Mouse and Donald, the two ducks who hang around the dining area. Rarely a shower. (By “rarely” I mean about every five days… or every week.) Plan lessons. Read books.

Lunch at 0900. Dal bhaat.

School at 0930. Assembly, including a very out-of-tune-but-oh-so-cute Nepali national anthem, followed by a shouted prayer of which none is most likely understood by the supplicants, and yet still so adorable.
Class 1: LKG (Lower Kindergarten) Science. The hassle of an American woman trying to wrangle twenty-three 4-9year old children who don’t speak English into learning about family trees. “Chup lagera basa” (“shush and sit down”) is my favorite phrase here.
Class 2: UKG (Upper Kindergarten) Science: A group of five fairly well behaved little munchkins who love to learn. Biplop knows almost every answer and is often my translator for the rest of the class. Sushila and Saugat are barely a step behind him in brainpower. They dazzle me.

Concentrating very hard on the morning prayer.

UKG working at their studies.

Break for the volunteers at 1110-1345. Time to read, plan lessons, chat with the trekkers whose supplies and porters have taken over most of the yard, and eat a small snack (Tiffin here, instead of lunch)… usually the apples which make Dolpa famous throughout Nepal. Mmmmm, the taste of autumn.

Back to school at 1345. Periods 6 and 7 with Class I: a group of older children some of whom are very bright, and a few of whom would rather cause mischief instead of learn English. Difficulties.

School ends at 1505. Spend time tutoring Tarak’s son Saugun (UKG), who oftentimes mysteriously disappears into the kitchen and under the arm of his grandmother as soon as the word “book” is spoken (we all know how nanas are). Work in Tarak’s shop so he’s free to roam around a little; sell the locals noodles, biscuits, and cigarettes with very poor Nepali and much gesturing. Help Im, the cook, in the kitchen chopping tomatoes or garlic, while trying to memorize the seven different kinds of masala he uses to cook his dal bhaat.

Tarak in his shop

Me, Im, and Sam in the kitchen during dal bhaat lessons!

Me stirring the tarkari at supper.

Supper at 1900 hours. Then some time reading the Odyssey aloud to Sam and Sarah, discussions, laughter, maybe a much-desired and very expensive chocolate bar. And, gratefully, but with the uneasy feeling that I might already be 75 years old, to bed around 2100 hours.

Things I do/n’t Need

Things I can do without and do not need to have:
1) Television (cable)--I still want a TV or some sort of DVD player for movies. No cable though
2) Air conditioning
3) Biscuits
4) A microwave (this seems ambitious, but I think I’ll try it…)
5) Hot, hot showers. Or to shower every day.
6) As many clothes/shoes as I have
7) Electric lights all the time. Candles at night are nice.
8) Makeup.
9) Most forms of media/entertainment. Not many movies, certainly not in a theatre. No TV shows. No blogs. No newspapers. No magazines.
10) A sit-down toilet.

Things I’ve decided I *do* need:
1) Computer. Internet. Microsoft Office
1.5) More printed and framed photos at home
2) Fruits and dairy
2.5) To cook more often
3) Toilet paper
4) Tea and Coffee
4.5) A sex life
5) Drew and Emma
6) Some kind of art studio to work in
7) Exercise: dance. yoga. running. something. (refer to numbers 4)
8) Music/iPod. To sing and dance. More books.
9) A job and an apartment of my own.
9.5) A dining room table where I will eat.
10) To travel.

A Day for a Goddess

Sarah, Diphendra, me, and Sam with some of his family.

September 4th was a big festival for the locals here, and Sam, Sarah and I were lucky enough to get to be a part of it, even more so because Tarak‘s brother-in-law Diphendra was a main part of the ceremonies (which happen to be gender-bending). Around one in the afternoon, we started heading up the hill to the temple where we had been gazing on events the past few nights and from there we joined a huge crowd of people and started even further up the hill to a bigger temple. It took us about an hour to make it up the steep hillside with the rest of the village, but everyone did pause in their walking every so often to take a dance break. During these dance breaks, random cucumbers and other fruits would be thrown out into the crowd surrounding the main dancers.

At the lower temple: the festivities begin...

About halfway up the hill everyone stopped around a tree and Diphendra had his clothes changed from his young boy’s jeans and t-shirt (he’s 13) to a big red skirt, golden women’s jacket, and a golden veil topped with flowers. (He couldn’t change them himself since he had been fasting from food, water, and sleep for the past 24 hours.) Diphendra was becoming a goddess, or a queen, we were told. After we made it all the way up the hill, where the women and children had been gathered for hours around the temple, there was much singing and dancing, and by much I mean about four hours of it. Eventually they started handing out rice and colored strings again, and this time I was chosen! I felt oh-so-special (not kidding). I ate the rice and tied the red string (which I’ve now found out symbolizes power, woot) around my neck. During the four hours of dancing we took a little break to eat some apples and giri (like funnel cakes, but dripping in a gooey sweet syrup) on the hillside. When we went back to the festivities, Diphendra was in his own “personal” temple and he gave us some apples and strings as well.

The hundreds of people gathered around the dancing and the temple.

Diphendra handing out red strings.

Then we headed over to the feast. Most of the families in the village had made little camps around the temple where they had cooked tarkari (curried veggies) and roti (fried flatbread kinda like tortilla chips). We were invited to sit with so many families; we only sat with three, but had food from at least seven groups who brought their own version of the tarkari and roti over. The roti was sooo delicious, I ate a whole whole lot, but most families had a whole whole lot so it was ok. We headed back down the hill stuffed like Christmas geese.

Diphendra's mother with all her roti

On our way back down we got stopped to try the local raksi (alcohol) which was, um, kinda gross, but then again, I’m not a huge alkie. We also got stopped by a crowd surrounding some singing and dancing. Unfortunately, the locals pushed and prodded me into joining in the dance (I promise this had nothing to do with the raksi)… I was the only woman dancing with a couple of men, I tried to do the local dances, but ended up just trying to get out by laughing a lot. And now, of course, everyone I see wants me to dance when they see me. Not gonna happen. Sorry, locals.

Trying the raksi

Trying to escape the dancing ring

September Full Moon Fest

Sorry, not many good pics of a night festival...

Our first night in Juphal we were invited to see a men’s festival enacted to get rid of demons and ghosts. We arrived at a spot a little higher on our mountain at a temple--a square building with a courtyard and peristyle like halls on two sides, open rooms on the other two. It has a tall post with Tibetan prayer flags hanging off on one of the corners of the roof, on which we were invited to sit (with most of the women and children in the village, I believe). Others crowded around the open halls and into one of the open rooms. In the other room (which we were facing, luckily) there was a fire and a gathering of men, obviously taking part in some ritual. Every once in a while, men would come out and play drums and blow large trumpets.
While the secret-men ritual was going on, we watched for an hour as other men gathered in the courtyard to form a circle--strike that, two semi-circles facing each other. They would slowly rotate counter clockwise while chanting back and forth. One semi-circle would chant a melody, sometimes gesturing at the other group or pointing at them (the most enthusiastic we nicknamed “Sean Penn”, as he reminds us of the actor), then the second semi-circle would respond with what sounded like the same thing over and over. Men freely came into the circle and left, and much later, women were added. We decided that it could be a very slow, Nepali version of “Anything You Can Do I Can Do Better”… “I have seventy mules and a wife with three kids, you don’t!” “Well my wife is cuter than yours and that’s what really matters, so there!”--that type of thing, you know? (In actuality, it’s just a traditional chant, they’re all saying the same thing and only divided by age. I couldn’t tell.)
Eventually three men dressed in white came out of the room with bells and drums and tambours and danced around, hopping on one foot and tying strings around peoples necks. I decided that these people were “chosen ones” who really needed protection from demons… they’re the ones in the community who, by coincidence, always seem to be at the site of trouble, even though they say they have naught to do with it. (This is mostly true, apparently. The strings are to protect the people receiving them from ghosts.) Then the whitemen disappeared back into the fire room. Tarak informed us that the circle bit would go on til the wee hours of the morning.
This same ritual happened the two nights afterwards and climaxed on the last day with a trip to the big temple higher up the hill. Check out the next post!

My Nepal Travel Buddies: a profile of Sam and Sarah

Sam and Sarah

The other night, at four-thirty in the morning, I and two other women found ourselves in a discussion we never imagined having: the value and convenience of a chamber pot. While Albus Dumbledore might have lightheartedly enjoyed the conversation, we were debating actually getting one for our shared room. (The answer was, of course, yes.) Since I’ve become so intimate with these two gals, I thought I’d introduce them to you.

I enjoy Sam (25, South African) very much. She got here about a week before I came, and we’ve been spending most of our waking (and sleeping) hours together. She’s an awesome travel partner, especially since she’s traveled extensively before (India, Australia, Europe, and she’s lived in UAE) and since we share a lot of the same ideas about travel. You can learn a lot just by hearing other peoples thoughts on the same situation. She said she enjoys my and Sarah’s company as well: “I like how we compliment each other, how we’re different. The humor--traveling these countries you wouldn’t get far without a sense of humor, and we all seem to have a sense of humor. And a lack of prudishness--the topics that you’re forced to talk about, you cant exactly avoid sometimes if you’re going to survive.” All three of us are interested in what we do, as well, which Sam is grateful of: “I like how gung-ho you guys are… it’s good to have that, to kind of force each other out of our comfort zones. All of us are willing to try everything; we encourage each other to get involved.” And of course, as I have discovered, just the comfort of having other people around often turns crises into adventures to laugh about. I also like Sam because we both seem to have really funny weeing stories and we aren’t afraid of sharing them, and because she said her funniest memory of Nepal was Sean Connery’s birthday party--extra brownie points.

Sarah is in the same situation as I am--22, American, just out of college and taking some time to travel and volunteer before starting the rest of her life. She likes volunteering because she is able to work one-on-one with the kids and really watch them learn. When I asked her what she liked about the three of us, her face lit up in a huge smile and a gasp; just that warmed my heartstrings. “It made me so happy when you guys showed up the first day and I saw that there would be fun people to hang out with here… I just had the occasional image of myself stuck on the side of a mountain, in some village somewhere,” she said. “I like that we all get along, we take things similarly. We have a tendency to laugh a lot about things… like being stuck in Nepalgunj for three days would not be funny, but it was with you guys.” Sarah says that her favorite thing about Nepal is “all the different stuff we’ve gotten to do: like riding on the top of the bus, milking the cows, all the new experiences. I can actually say I’ve been hiking in the Himalayas. That’s pretty cool.” I have to agree with her, and I’m lucky that my new friends here love to try new things and go on every size adventure.

Just like Sam and Sarah said, I think our best and greatest survival tool is humor. We laugh so much. We laugh that we all daydream about hot showers, instant coffee, and powdered milk (that’s what’s in our personal “Rooms of Requirement” at the moment…), we laugh at each others stories, and we can turn and laugh with each other (instead of sitting down to cry) when something ludicrous and absurd happens. I’m very grateful to have these two women traveling with me because for a confused mind, a homesick heart, and a culturally exhausted spirit, laughter is the best medicine.

Sarah, me, and Sam during a local festival.

Journey to Dolpa

The drive to Nepalgunj, Narnia style.

I am now in Juphal, Dolpa. Dolpa is one of Nepal’s lesser known but absolutely beautiful trekking areas. It is mountainous, on the northern border of Nepal towards the west and includes the Shey-Phokshundo National Park. There is a lake here that I hope (but doubt) I will get to see which lacks any form of life, so the water is absolutely blue and beautiful, surrounded by mountains. We are in the city of Juphal, just a three hour walk from the district capital of Dunai, which we plan to check out at some point.
While Dolpa is beautiful, our journey here was less so. After a 14 hour bus from Kathmandu, we ended up being stuck in Nepalgunj (the armpit of Nepal) for three days (three more than we planned) due to difficulties in flight schedules and weather. Nepalgunj is only 6 km from India, but we couldn’t swing over to the other side of the border because you have to have an Indian visa before you get there, which I was lacking. We spent our days reading, taking a few walks, and trying to avoid the heat by using the “air conditioner” in our room (which also had a television with English channels… it was a nice luxury, but I was more excited to see Aljazeerah for the first time in my life).

Our Twin Otter Airplane... after it had the seats loaded in...

We finally made it out of Nepalgunj on the first of September and arrived in Juphal Aiport around 730 in the morning. Juphal and lower Dolpa are absolutely beautiful. We have high mountains on every side (we’re at about 7000 feet above sea level, nothing compared to high peaks, but it did give me a headache on the first day), very green and with a forest above a certain level, plus the river in a valley it’s carved for itself. Our accommodations are nice too, a nice little cedar room with shelves (!), a kitchen (where hopefully we will learn to cook dal bhaat so I can bring it back to all you lovely folks), toilets and a shower (which I think I will avoid using at all costs… the water is soooo cold and comes out in a trickle so it will take a while to wash).

The Juphal Airstrip.

Our first view of Dolpa.

The man in charge is named Tarak, and he’s very nice and helpful. He also organizes treks; we went on a walk our first day and saw a house where he gardens, the home where he was born in Juphal, and also his wife’s family’s home. His wife’s name is Gunga, and her family is absolutely lovely--they treated us to apples, cucumbers, and fermented buffalo curd (it was, um… tangy). Also, marijuana grows along the roadside here (lots of marijuana)…… fill in your own comment.

This photo looks photoshopped. It isn't.

We visited the school our first day as well. The kids are in different classes: Nursery, LKG, UKG, and Class I. Sarah, Sam, and I are excited to split up the English classes, and hopefully teach some math and science classes as well. Tonight is a festival in a nearby village--check out the next post!