October 1st, 2010

I have tried to start this so many times but with each attempt I become lost in the complexity of not only this experience but the layering of events and relationships that I started in my previous trips to Nepal.  So today I’ll simply begin and hope that eventually the story will become complete for you (and me).

“Oh holy shit”- my first lucid thought as one eye cracks open to roam my brother’s Wall Street apartment.  Today is the day I leave everything that is normal and known and go to Nepal.  During my senior year at AU I discovered this emerging NGO that works for Dalit rights (the name for the lowest caste in the Hindu Caste system) called the International Commission for Dalit Rights (ICDR).  DB Bishwakarma is the President of this NGO and I'm currently living with his wife's parents (Mommy and Daddy) and younger sister (Sanu) in Naku, Lalitpur (not quite Kathmandu but essentially the same). I’m still rationalizing why exactly I've decided to spend the next 8 months here but I think it truly boils down to three reasons. The first: I have people here that I love as deeply as those in America. The thought of not being with them is as difficult as not being with you. The second: I really connect with this culture and way of life.  I am more aware of life here, including my own.  The third: I need (or I believe I need) to learn Nepali, gain NGO experience, and build upon my knowledge of Nepal's geography and culture so that I can secure a place for myself in Nepal with future employment.

After a relatively easy two days of travel, in which introspective pondering was equally paired with frivolous Mary thoughts, I reached Kathmandu (ex: While deep in cultural immersion daydream I was abruptly pulled back to Newark International by new observation of small boy eating starbursts..."mmm starbursts. I wonder if they are dairy free?" Oh right impending adventures...nah let's pursue this starburst thing." However, when I reached Kathmandu my bags were, not suprisingly, still in India. With the thought of a third day in the same clothing and un-brushed teeth adding just a drop of disappointment to my excitement of arrival.

I headed outside to find my ride and was dropped at my host family's house where Mr. and Mrs. K quickly established themselves as 'Mommy and Daddy' (this is made slightly more amusing when you consider the fact that I call my own mother 'Nancy' 50% of the time ;-).  They speak about 30 words of English between them but that was no barrier and we were able to communicate well enough with smiles and laughter. Their home is small but very comfy and not unlike a modest house in the US. I got my bags the next afternoon after a very irritating ordeal that involved a lot of Nepali BS and a whole bunch of tears.

With a few festivals and dozens of introductions to distant relatives of Mommy and Daddy behind me I finally found myself on a packed local bus on my way to Bandare. Bandare or Trisuli Centre is where I lived and volunteered during my first trip to Nepal 4 years ago.  It’s where I fell in love with Nepal and where my closest friends live.  A young man sat next to me and after what seemed like hundreds of side ways glances I said hello to curb his curiosity and we struck up a bus ride friendship.  He bought some bananas from one of the running merchants who run alongside (or hop inside) the buses while shouting their products name and trusting them into windows and faces.  We chatted in broken Nepali over the bananas (bananas in Nepal are about the size of my thumb) and before I knew it I was there.  I arrived filthy.  My massacred eyelashes where chalky grey and fluttery like goose down from the thickly polluted Kathmandu air blowing into the bus window.  My face was also a few shades darker from the constant puffs of sooty exhaust billowing through my window from the passing lorry trucks that seeped its way into my pores like pancake makeup.  My disheveled appearance instantly left my mind when I saw Pampha’s bright face poke through the bodies to grabs my hand and wriggle me out of the bus.  Pampha is my closest friend in Bandare and as I give her a tight one-armed squeeze I think, “It’s good to be home!”

I pass the next 6 days in Bandare and quickly reestablish old relationships.  I am never bored here although I can pass an entire day doing little more than sitting and being.  Life is lived outside and the boundaries and privacy of a home is nonexistent during the daytime.  People come and go without notice and there is always time for chatting and a cup of tea.  Not fully understanding a language and culture leaves room for constant curiosity that fills my mind and days.

 Some complaints exist: it’s way too effing hot.   I mean from the moment my eyes open to the moment I begin my interrupted sleep I am coved in dewy moisture.  I sleep in Narayan’s room, which he sweetly tries his best to make comfortable for me. But it’s hard to spruce up what is essentially a dirt hut with stone slabs as roofing.  It’s monsoon season and it torrentially rains at night.  Bandare is right on the River Trisuli and I get scared at night that I’ll be swept away in a landslide. Perhaps slightly irrational but it happens! The roof leaks at night right onto our bed, which I whine about until Narayan gets up and moves the bed.  I had the misfortune of being bestowed my monthly gift while in Trisuli and had to purchase the only available product: bulky pads that feel like a giant wad of synthetic pillow stuffing.  I got a nasty rash from the heat and constant sweat. This was as unpleasant as it sounds.  But in my moments of self-pity I think of my friends who don’t get to return to the relative comforts of Kathmandu.  Pampha never gets to take a shower in clean water or revert to tampons the second an opportunity arises as I did.  My life is easy and wonderful and I know it. I feel my privilege here and I want to not only appreciate it but also do something with it.  Spread the wealth so to speak.  My current unpaid NGO aside, I’m still trying to figure out how to do this best.

Here is a brief synopsis of events since returning to Kathmandu:

I promptly became sick and couldn’t leave the house or my bed for a week.  Fever, cough, and stomach woes- the whole shebang. The next week was filled with failed attempts to get work started and by the end of it I was becoming depressed and frustrated thinking “what the hell is the point of this if I’m not working and I’m not experiencing anything new?” This week was better.  I met with the organizations I’ll be partnering ICDR with and I’ll officially begin on Monday.  Sanu and I took a trip to see the largest Shiva statue in the world.  It was monumental!  Also adding to it was the fact that I was the only white person and as Sanu and I sat in awe of Shiva she says to me “Mary you are different.  You aren’t like other foreigners. You are like Nepali.”  I’ve been told this before but it fills me with warmth because that is how I feel inside.  I feel like I fit here. I know I am not the same and I will never fully be a part of the intricately woven culture of Nepal yet I feel happy, alive, and even beautiful here.