Dhading

Hey guys!

      Sorry I haven't posted in a while; I just got back from Dhading district where I spent three days with Sarita (the oldest girl at the orphanage, absolute sweetheart) at Rajendra's parents home. During the day I went to Kalika Primary School and taught english to students who probably didn't understand a word I said. Still, it was fun. We left on Tuesday and took the ever delightful Nepali public transportation to Dhading, which is about four hours away from Ktm. About the public transportation....in the city, the best way to get around is on the micro-bus (basically a minivan), which is designed for 10 people but is rarely stuffed with less than 20. Its a true joy to spend the 10 minute ride to Thamel with my back bent at a 90 degree angle and my head in someone's armpit. But it's an experience. 

         Anyways, the bus we took to Dhading was not a micro-bus (I would have died) but it was still just as packed. A goat tried to eat my finger. You have to have a lot of faith in your bus driver. On the way to Dhading we were careening around mountain bends at 30 mph. Instead of slowing down, the driver just lays on the horn to warn anyone around the corner about our presence. When we were not barreling around corners, we were creeping along a narrow road flanked on both sides by a precipice. You just have to trust that the driver knows what he is doing. If you don't, you will succumb to heart attack within the first three minutes of the ride. I think the biggest difference between Nepali people and Americans I've noticed is that Nepali people have a lot more trust in other people and the general order of the universe. By American standards, the Nepalese are terrible communicators. Americans like to know what they are doing and when and what will follow, but Nepali people always seem just to have a very general idea in mind and then trust that things will fall into place. You really just have to go with the flow. 

        Also, Nepali people have a lot more faith in their children's ability to stay alive. I saw children as young as four walking miles to school totally alone. I think kids are a lot smarter than we let them show...either that or American babies are actually just less skilled than Nepali children. I also noticed that strangers actually talk to each other! It's funny to think about how when we are riding the crowded T/ subway in the US we do our best to ignore the person whose lap we are practically sitting in. But in Nepal, it is totally normal for people to talk to each other. Usually there isn't even a greeting-- when I first watched Sarita talk to some people I thought she knew them already. Turns out its just normal to make conversation. Crazy, huh? People were also very willing to hand off their babies to other people on the bus. Whereas in Boston I would get a worried look from a mother if I asked her kid to sit on my lap on the T, it would almost be rude if I didn’t offer here. The things you learn on the bus.

         We arrived in Dhading in one piece and I was immediately relieved to be in such a quiet and clean place. Kathmandu is not a pretty city. It does not look nice, it does not smell nice, and it does not sound nice. Three days ago I was happy to be somewhere so peaceful, but today I found myself relieved to be back in Kathmandu. Why? Well, not many white people make it into the villages outside of the city so I was quite the phenomenon. Walking up the road people would stop to stare at me. If I turned around, they would still be staring. I would greet them with the customary “Namaste” and they would smile and bow and keep on staring. I had to get used to it really quickly. Also, no one outside of the city speaks much English. Thank god Sarita was with me because I would have been totally lost. Still, it isn’t always fun to be in a room full of people speaking about you in a language you don’t understand. You are left to use your imagination to figure out what they are saying about you, and usually the imagination comes up with horrible results. Sometimes Sarita would just smile at me after hearing something said about me in Nepali. But really, I was so happy to have her with me. It was great to spend time with her. She is quiet but her English is very good and we get along well. It’s fun to ask each other questions about our lives and a fantastic learning experience. I hope I will stay in touch with her after I leave.

         We went to the school immediately. Walking up the hill I saw a cluster of people around the school gate. Two teachers greeted me and put a garland of flowers around my neck and I entered the courtyard to see all the children lined up in two lines forming an aisle to the administration office. As I walked down the kids started to clap and shout “Namaste Miss!” and handed me more and more flower garlands. I hadn’t been expecting such an elaborate reception and was very overwhelmed but incredibly flattered. Then I had lunch with the school administrators (again, people talking about me in a language I didn’t understand) and after we had finished the vice principal turned to me and asked, “So, you ready to teach the children now?” Well, um. I guess? And then I found myself standing in front of a fifth grade classroom with no lesson plan and a huge language barrier.  I actually think I did a pretty good job, all things considered. I had to resort to pictures a lot, but I think they understood what I was trying to say about 15% of the time. Some teachers would come in and watch (and often chuckle at my attempts). You remember what I said about Nepali people having more trust? It’s not that they didn’t care what the kids were learning, but they trusted I would do my best and it was a valuable experience to have the kids listen to a native English speaker. We went over different tenses, pronunciation, and identifying nouns, adjectives, and verbs in a sentence. It was really fun, but tiring.

            After school got out Sarita and I walked twenty minutes through the beautiful mountains with monsoon rains beginning to fall. We arrived at Rajendra’s parents home and were almost immediately ushered into the kitchen by Rajendra’s mother (Also known as Auntie. In Nepal , it is rude to call an elder by their name so all older women are Auntie—or Sister if you are from the same caste or village—and all older men are Uncle). Their home was a very traditional Nepali home. On one side of the house the was the outside toilet and the animal shed with goats, cows, and chickens, and on the other was the beginning of the corn terraces and rice patties. The floors were made of a mixture of mud and concrete and the ceilings were only 6 feet high (so many bumps on my head…). I think one of the hardest parts of my stay in Dhading was the food. We usually had dal bhat for breakfast and dinner and noodles for lunch, which was all very good, expect for the fact I had to struggle to finish my plate. The first night I had to lean over to Sarita and ask her if it was impolite not to finish. She just smiled, so I ate on. It was rough. There were other dishes that we don’t have here in the city. They eat a spicy pickle dish (like really really spicy…my eyes were watering and I had to try my best not to choke) and yogurt. But the yogurt is real yogurt, not sweetened at all. It’s basically just the curd. So it is very bitter and I had to try really hard to get a few bites down. With banana it was okay. One great thing about the food was everything I ate probably originated less than thirty feet from my plate. It was all very fresh. I had warm fresh milk and it was absolutely delicious.

            After dinner, we all sat on the porch and listened to the rain. I was writing down the days adventure when four kids form the village came over and started to watch (their home seemed open to anyone from the village to come and go as they pleased). I drew them each a picture and taught them the word for it: flower, elephant, whale, snail. Then I passed out and had the best sleep I had since arriving in Nepal.

Day 2

            We woke up early and headed to the school. There are four or five teachers and seven classrooms, so there was always a class without a teacher where the kids were just waiting for their next lesson to begin. That’s where Sarita and I filled in. She taught all subjects and I stuck to English. I started floating in and out of all the classrooms. Kids would come and pull me over to their class, where I would give a lesson for 20-40 minutes and then move on to the next class. Often the classes ended in a dance party. The kids kept asking me to dance, and when I reluctantly obliged a few others would join in. They also asked me what caste I was in and I don’t think they understood that we don’t have a caste system here. After school we went to Sarita’s aunts house (she lived in Dhading before her parents died) and watched TV and played with her baby nephew. Then it was rice time (aka struggle time) and I went to bed around 9/10.

Day 3

I woke up to find two Nepali children standing in my open window watching me sleep.  As soon as they saw I was awake, they came into my room and started chattering to me in Nepali. The small one took and interest in my toiletries bag, which she dumped out and asked for an explanation of each item. She kept saying the same thing for every item she picked up and I just kept nodding and smiling. Sarita finally told me she was asking, “Can I have it?” Oops. I had to gently take back my belongings, which in her eyes were new found treasures. She quickly forgave me though and starting going through my bag again. And then she did it five more times.

I stayed at school for five or six hours, and had a nice talk with the Vice Principal about future plans for the school. There most immediate goal is to build a wall around the school and I said that I would try to do some fundraising back in the US (anyone interested?). The Nepali government barely gives any funding to public schools so they have to sponsor most projects themselves and buy their own computers. I found myself telling Sarita that I did not have enough money to sponsor the project myself, but I felt like an idiot with my Nook at my side and my smartphone in my backpack. But I would like to do my best to help. Hopefully I can return some day.

Day 4

            We said good-bye to the school and got back on the bus for our return to Kathmandu! I’m now back at Ramro Sathi with the new volunteers: 3 girls from England and one from France. They’re all lovely people. I ate dinner with Maika and Celine at an Italian restaurant (PIZZAAAAA! Cheese is a magical, magical thing after a week of rice) and should probably go to bed soon because I have to wake up in 4 hours to begin eight-hours of trekking. We are all going trekking for three days! Himalayas, here I come!

Talk to you all soon!

Love,

Kate

P.S.- sorry for the typos, I’m too tired to proofread