The Last Chapter

I wake up to loud voices outside my window and I can feel that it is to early.  I roll over to check my clock and see that it is 4:30am. Nepali women wake up so damn early, but why do they have to be so damn loud? I roll over and try to go back to sleep. I lay there in a half daze until the sound of a drill echoes around me. Our neighbor, and landlord, is a carpenter and his carpentry workshop is right next to my window and apparently he has decided to get an early start this morning. I look at my clock again, 5:30am. Alright that is manageable. I roll out of bed and peer our my window,

“Goodmorning Garnus.” I say groggily.

 “Shuba Bihani, Cara.”

I make my way out my front door to the water tank where I brush my teeth and wash my face. A few months ago we installed a tap at the bottom of the tank so it’s almost like having running water.  I go into the kitchen and figure I might as well make my lunch while everyone is sleeping so I can have the kitchen to myself. My two roommates, Alisa and Martin, and I usually go for dal bat everyday in the Jomsha, the village above ours. However recently they have mysteriously been going out of town for several days at a time. There have been rumors that the husband had gotten in a fight and might be in jail. However rumors don’t carry much weight around here, for a week there was a rumor going around that Alisa was pregnant and only god knows how that got started. Regardless we believe they might be involved in some sort of illegal activity but are not sure what. I think how in the West if I believed the owners of a restaurant were into sketchy business I would not give them my money, however in this situation this is the only place for me to get good food, and seeing that I am down to 59kg (129Ib), I choose eating over honor.  However because they are not here this week I have been making my own lunch, which is made up of pasta, soya balls, onions, corn, and green mangos. When it comes to home, I miss food the most.

            Once I finish cooking and cleaning it is still only 7:30 in the morning, so I go back upstairs to rest until it’s time to go meet with Mahendra. I can’t fall back to sleep so I decide to watch the next episode of Six Feet Under, an on HBO series I’ve recently become addicted to. It’s amazing how even though I am in the middle of nowhere on top of mountain, that having electricity allows me to enjoy some of the luxuries I would have in west. I lose myself for the next two hours and then decide it’s time to start being productive.

           

As I head down to the Nepali Fellows house I pass many of the children going to school, all of whom greet me with “Namaste”.  Finally I reach two of my favorite little girls, Alisa and Alina. They are sisters who live next to the Nepali Fellows and are always hanging around. Their mother was brought to this village to marry a man who has since left to work abroad. She is a very cold and rough woman who is rarely around to be with her two small children. I have witnessed her beat her oldest several times with a stick. There is not much you can do in these situations but turn away and hope it will end soon.  The oldest, Alina, is 6 and basically takes care of Alisa, who is 4. The volunteers have all taken an interest in them and always welcome them to come hang out. Every morning when I pass them we play a small game where I chase Alisa and pick her up and give her a big hug. After which they continue walking to school and continue on to the Nepali house, but just as they begin walking again Alisa turns around and screams “I love you Kanchan Dee Dee” and I scream “I love you Alisa”. This happens everyone morning, and every time it warms my heart.

           

The next people I pass are the Amma and Boa who live next to the Nepali fellows. Amma and Boa means mother and father. Here in Nepal you address everyone in these terms like Amma, Deedee, or Bahini, aka Mother, older sister, or younger sister. This has made addressing people in the village very easy, however it also means that after a year I still do not know a majority of the villagers names. This set of Amma and Boa are very sweet. The Boa enjoys trying to speak English with me so every morning we do a small exchange of introductory sentences: “Hello, How are you.” “I am fine, and you?”  And so on. After this exchange I have finally arrived at Mahendra’s house where I call his name and wait for him to come out and meet me. The Nepali fellows have already been up for hours at this point and are all scurrying around the house cooking, cleaning, and doing other household things before it is time to meet their partners as well.

“Mahendraaaaaaaa”

“Cara ji, Good Morning, I am coming!”

I then will wait outside anywhere from 5-30 minutes for Mahendra to come out and join me. Today we are planning our youth group meetings for our final week here. It’s hard to imagine a year has come and gone so quickly and that in one week we will have to say goodbye. However I am really appreciating this time to process the end and plan out how we want to finish our work here. When Mahendra finally comes outside we briefly discuss last weeks activity. We discuss the activity we had done with out community youth, a song competition, which had gone very well. The kids all had a lot of fun and it had turned into a kind of party. We decided that we would postpone the song competition for the rest of the groups and save it for our last activity with them next week. This would actually be better so that this week we could give them time during our meetings to prepare and practice for our farewell community celebration next Saturday. 

The volunteers will be hosting a gathering of the community on our last weekend here to say goodbye and give the community members an opportunity to share with their family and friends what they have been working on. In the end the only people who want to present are the youth, so it will more or less be a youth talent show that will include food made by the women’s group. It has the potential to be really fun, I just hope that we will be able to put it together in time.

            After my meeting with Mahendra I head back to the house to get my things and head to my Tanka class. Learning Tanka has been a very enlightening experience to the industry. I took a Buddhist Mandala class in college that I loved and thought it would be similar, however Tanka is very different. For the most part it is a very difficult paint by numbers. You pick a design you like, you then trace it onto the canvas and then you paint in the lines. Once you paint all the color in then the difficult part begins, the details. However the details are all very delicate work that requires the hand of a professional. So in the end my teacher did that for me. While the work did not end up being has challenging  or meditative as I had anticipated I am so thankful I had the opportunity to do it. It allowed me to fill my days being surrounded by people in the community and make new meaningful relationships. And while in the end I can probably only take credit for 60% of the painting, it’s still an awesome thing to take home and have forever.

            I stay at class until 3:45pm, after which I head to my youth group meeting. Today my meeting is at Dahu School, which is a 30 minute walk down the jeep road from where I am. It’s all straight and down hill though so it’s quite an enjoyable walk. While I really like seeing our plans put into action, with the language barrier I am unable to be very active in our meetings. And on days when something isn’t working and Mahendra changes something, I then have no idea what is going on. To be honest I find them quite boring at this point.  We have made 5 groups, each with 20-30 youth in them. This structure combined with the fact that we work with 100+ youth, has made it very hard for me to make relationships with many of them. In the end I can say I’ve developed close relationships with around 20 youth,  most of which are the ones who live in our community and who I see regularly.  When the meeting ends it is 6:45pm. As Mahendra and I walk home we discuss the activity and our future plans for the week. Overall it has been a good relationship, but it also has been complicated. Over the year there have been many disagreements and clear cultural barriers that made these disagreements more stressful. However we are still working side by side, which is more then I can say for other partnerships. Now that we are at the end, and we are so close to going home, many people have given up and no longer are willing to work together. It is of no fault of anyone, but it has become clear that maybe the model that Tevel has set up for this fellowship needs to be challenged and revised.

         

   On our way home I notice that a group of youth are sitting at the stuppah above the tap and tell Mahendrah I’d like to go check it out. He says he will go home and see me tomorrow. When I reach the stuppah I see that they are all trying to knock mangos down from the tree. Obviously they are green mangos because no body waits for things to ripen here.  At first I didn’t understand why, but now I see that if you don’t eat it as soon as possible then insects will. I join in and start throwing rocks at the tree, as mangos begin to fall the kids all scream and scurry to go find them. They all then bring them back to me and tell me to take them!

“ Mito Cha! Kannah Kannah.”

They are telling me it is delicious and I should eat it. I take all the mangos and put them in my bag. As they bring me more I tell them to eat them too but they refuse. After 30 minutes or so of hanging out with the kids and collecting mangos I head home. It is starting to get late and I’m exhausted, seeing as I’ve been up since 4:30 in the morning.  When I get back my roommates are doing their own thing. Two are outside having tea, while the other two are upstairs in their room. I sit with Alisa and Martin outside. We discuss our day and our future days here. We enjoy the night’s breeze and calming sounds of the village. Another day has come to an end, and tomorrow will be exactly the same with a few of its own twists and turns.

 It really is a beautiful life.

You're a Hoot

I’ve grown to truly love the village life. It is quite, peaceful, and simple.  While I do my best to appreciate the day-to-day pleasures of living in the village (our kind neighbors, the village animals, the amazing sun set), after a year of living here the honeymoon period has worn off and I no longer am amazed by each and every little thing. However when something out of the ordinary does happen it without a doubt proves to be another unforgettable experience.

          

  I had just finished a really nice day at Tanka Class and was walking home form the center of the village. Up ahead on the path I saw several of the younger children all gathered around something. I could tell that they were picking this ‘something’ up and throwing it but could not tell what this ‘something’ was. As I got closer I could see that it was something living, so I called out for them to stop and put the animal down. When I approached the children they were all crouched around a small bird. I stared at the creature for several seconds before realizing what it was, a baby owl. The owl was no bigger then the size of my hand and was looking up at me with the most beautiful big, round, yellow eyes. I stared at it in awe, watching it twist it’s head in circles and bob up and down. I didn’t know what to do, the only thing I had heard about baby birds was that if they had been touched by humans, which it clearly had, that the mother would not take it back.  I clearly couldn’t leave it here with these children who were treating it like a toy. So I began asking questions: “who found it?” “Where did you find it?” “ How long have you had it?” Eventually i was able to get a the answers, however these answers didn’t prove to be to helpful, “Sahara.” “A field” “one hour.”

Feeling like I had no other option, I picked up the owl and told them we would go to my house and try to figure out what to do.  So there I was, walking home with an owl in my hand, and a train of little children behind me.  All of a sudden one of the little boys ran over to me with a grasshopper in his hands and raised it up to feed the owl.  The owl grabbed the insect and swallowed it whole. Once we arrived at my house all the kids wanted to feel the owl, so they began running around catching grasshoppers. I realized this was a perfect opportunity to collect food to last for a while. So as the kids brought back grasshoppers I asked them to put them in a small bowl. Of course as soon as they placed them in the bowl the insect would simply jump out. Learning quickly, the children began tearing the legs off the bugs so they couldn’t get away. It is so unusual for me to be around children who are so comfortable with this kind of behavior. It has been something I have been struggling with all year: throwing rocks at dogs, tossing around a baby owl, tearing the legs off grasshoppers, these are behaviors I do not often see by children in the west. Regardless, at this moment I was thankful for this desensitized behavior, because I certainly didn’t want to kill all these grasshoppers, and I needed food to feed the owl I had just adopted.

After the children dispersed I began researching all I would need to know about raising an owl.  After hours of reading different articles, my research all told me two things: either contact your nearest wildlife specialist, or return the owl to where you found it (apparently owls are not like other birds and the mother will take the baby owl even after its been touched by humans.) Seeing as there is no wildlife specialist for 100 miles, I clearly only had one option. At this point it was to late to try and return the owl so it would have to wait till the morning. I made a small bed made out of a bucket and rice pealing’s. I put the owl in the bucket and brought it  up to the balcony outside my room so the snakes would not get him.  As soon as I put the bucket down, the owl hopped up and perched on the rim of the bucket and fell asleep.  I too fell asleep, however was not asleep long. I quickly learned what it meant to be nocturnal. The owl woke me up at 11, 2, and 5 to be fed. His chirps were like little baby chicks, but  were incessant enough to wake me each time.

By the time morning came the food had run out and it was time to find more. However the only problem was that it had started raining and all the bugs were hiding. As soon as the rain stopped I went on a mission to find the youth  to try and get more bugs and figure out where this nest was. It was clear that I was not capable of raising this owl, and it’s best chance of survival was to be back with its family.  As soon as I found the youth I began asking questions and this time the answers were very different. The older children began to tell me that the bird was no found in a field, but in fact had been knocked out of it’s nest by a rock the younger kids had been throwing at it. While this was yet another story that disturbed me, it also meant that they new where the nest was. The older kids told me that they could take me to the try, but unfortunately it is to big to climb. When we arrived they pointed at the spot where the nest was, and as they had told me it was clearly to high to reach. However it was just low enough that I could life one the kids and he could place it back. So with out much discussion one of the boys picked up the owl, I picked him up, and when I brought him back down the owl was gone

All I can do now is hope that it’s mother will return and it will live to see another day.

Next Steps

 With this year quickly coming to an end it is time to figure out what comes next.  This year has helped me realize that I definitely want to continue on this path of international development. I have also realized that I am ready to move on from volunteering/direct community involvement. It is time to learn what happens behind the scenes. I feel like through these experiences I am ready to take the next step in developing my professional skills.

With that being said I have some exciting news! I have decided to go back to school and get my masters in International Development and Service at Concordia University in Portland. Well it is misleading to say that it is in Portland because I spend my second and third semesters abroad. I can choose between Italy, Thailand, and Ecuador. I will chose to go to Thailand my second semester and Ecuador my third semester.

I am really excited to explore a new area of the states and see if the west coast is a better fit for me. I’ve heard great things about Portland, and have started watching Portlandia (a hilarious tv show I recommend to everyone) to get me up to speed on the culture in Portland so I will fit in ;).

Overall I feel real good about this decision and feel like it is the right move for me.  Thank you to everyone who has been there for through this process and offered their support. I wouldn’t be here today without all of you!

In conclusion, it looks live my life as a Nomad will continue on for another two years. 

The Blog will live on. 

Pune Hill

During the course of this year we were given two 10 day vacations.  For my second vacation I had the amazing experience of having my closest and oldest friend come visit me here. When we were younger Katie and I did all of our traveling together including going a trip cross country, Atlantis, the Canarie Islands, Ireland, and Scotland. However we have not traveled together in quite awhile, despite our attempts over the last few years.

While I’ve been living in Nepal for nearly 7 months I have yet to see anything outside of Kathmandu valley and the district of Ramachamp. With Katie coming this would be the perfect opportunity to take advantage of the tourist attractions Nepal has to offer. Nepal contains 7 of the tallest mountains in the world, including Mt.Everest. 4 of these mountains can be seen from one look out point, Pune Hill.  After going through all our options and weighing the pros and cons, we decided that we would spend the vacation trekking to this look out point!

Our itinerary would look like this:

Day 1: Katie arrives J

Day 2: Take Bus to Pokhera and enjoy the afternoon there

Day 3: Begin Trek

Day 4: Trek

Day 5: Trek

Day 6: Return from trek

Day 7: White Water Raft and return to Kathmandu

Day 8: Spend the day in Kathmandu

Day 9: Katie Leaves L

Pokhera is a cute lake town that attracts a lot of tourists. It is where many of the outdoor recreation activities in addition to a lot of view points of the Himalayan Mountains.  We enjoyed our afternoon shopping, eating, and catching up on the past 7 months. 

We began our trek early the next morning with our guide Bikash. Bikash turned out to be awesome! He was easy to get along with, very helpful, and had a good sense of humor. He also was very confident in our abilities, so when we finished our first day of trekking early on in the day, he suggested that we continue on and combined the first two days of trekking, this way we could have a full day in Pokhera at the end to just relax. Motivated by Bikash’s excitement we agreed to continue on.  While the next section was extremely difficult we made it to the next days guest house just as dark was coming. Completely exhausted from the days hiking we both immediately passed out and hoped our bodies would recover for the next day.

Our second day was absolutely amazing. We were hiking through the forests and were able to see the Himalayan mountains along the trail. On the trail it was awesome to see the other trekkers and hear all the languages being spoken. It’s truly amazing how big the world is yet there are places that have the ability to draw people from every corner of the earth.

On our third and final day we headed down the mountain with the image of our bed pushing us to the finish line. While we had done the trek much faster then expected and felt really good about our abilities, our bodies were beaten down and we were in desperate need of a day of rest.

Over the next few days we enjoyed spa treatments, restaurants, and exploring the sites that Kathmandu has to offer. It is rare to have the opportunity to get to share an experience like this with your friends from home. Having Katie here was like having a little piece of home here with me. I know that this will be only one of the many adventures we will have together in this lifetime, but I know that this one will always remain particularly special and have a special place in my heart.

Life is Life is Life

            It is very easy to romanticize the idea of moving to Nepal to a year. People from home are always sayings how jealous they are and that they are living vicariously through me. However it’s time you all knew the truth. Picking up your life and moving across the world is hard!!!!! I guess that is why in the end so few people actually do it. When you move to the developing world you put yourself at risk of sickness, injury, theft, lack of resources, loneliness, All of which I have experienced. So let’s stop pretending like a year abroad is all fun and play. A year abroad is a year of life, and life is hard.

            However once in a while you meet someone or you experience something that is so amazing it’s almost magical. These are the romantic experiences you dream of when you move to a place like Nepal for a year, these are the experiences that make all the other stuff worth it.

            One of the more popular way to make money is to become a Thangka painter. Thangka is a painting done on a hand made cotton canvas, , usually depicting a Buddhist  deity, scene, or mandala of some sort.  A month ago I came across a Thangka studio in our village that is fully employed by community women. While watching the women work I became truly inspired and knew I had to be apart of it. With the help of my Nepali friends I was able to work out a deal where I can come and learn this art for.

            This month was unfortunate in regards to my work with the youth because they had their final exams. However this opened up my schedule to begin my classes. On my first day we began making the canvas.

 The canvas is simply a piece of cotton that we sew and connect to a wooden panel. Once the cotton is mounted I rubbed a white liquid on it that made it strong and sturdy.

 

This procedure took less than an hour. So when we were done I began to learn the painting technique. Learning this technique was a true test to my patience. These painters use a technique where to fill a space you do small dots over and over again. I worked on a second that 1 square inch and it took me 300 hours. Not to mention it was awful!  

After seven hours a day, three days in a row, I finally began to see improvement in my technique.  Once my teacher approved, I was permitted to begin drawing the outline onto the canvas.  This is where it got interesting. I learned that these painting are not hand sketched! They are traced on to the canvas using a copied black and white version of the painting. It became clear to me how all the women were painting the same painting.

           Once the tracing was done, the painting began. After spending all day, everyday, in the studio I finally finished the sky. That’s right JUST the sky!!! With only 10 weeks left in the village, and youth groups starting up again, I’m realizing that I may have bit off more than I can chew.

            Whether I finish or not, being given the opportunity to spend my days with these amazing women, watching them and learning from them is extremely powerful experience. The type of experience you search for and hope for. The type of experience you dream of.