Weeks 5, 6, and Dashain

 It's been a busy few weeks.  First there was a three day training on permagardening, taught by a specialist imported from Ethiopia.  He made a video from all our work:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kAIsQPR6A60&feature=youtu.be

Friday afternoon some of us went to my sister's school to watch a dance program.  A group of girls approached me at one point and started chatting.  "Do you like friendship?" they asked.  What are you supposed to say to that?  "Yes," I replied.  The next thing you know...

I let them talk me into getting up in front of everyone and dance.  We eventually got everyone on the stage to join in.  It was a lot of fun.

That night we got to fix a Nepali meal.  I even went shopping on my own.  My family was great about telling me what to do, then letting me do it.  It turned out well enough that they said I could fix dinner every day.

Monday we got to go on a field trip to Bhaktapur, one of Nepal's most ancient cities.  It was fun being a tourist for a day, but i have to admit that I missed being the only white person around.

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Last week Dashain, Nepal's biggest holiday, began.  I don't understand or remember all the religious significance behind the festival, but it included lots of "pudja-ing" (that's not a real Nepali word, just incase you were wondering) or worshiping.  Sometimes this meant going to the temple and making offerings of fruits and flowers.

 

 Sometimes it meant sanctifying personal property, like my family's mill,  In this case pudja included cleaning up a bit, painting religious symbols on the machinery, burning incest... and sacrificing a goat.

 "Pinging" (or swinging) is also a traditional activity during Dashain.  This is done standing up and requires far more muscle and skill than you would think.  The older women and young girls tended to be the best pingers of all.

 The last day of Dashain involves the giving of tikas and money.

It was fun hanging out with my whole family.

Week 4: "My" Rice Mill

When I first came to Nepal and began hearing about how it would be to live with a host family, I thought it would be really weird to call perfect strangers mom and dad, brother and sister, but it turns out it feels perfectly natural.  I've even taken to calling their things mine, like "my" new house that the family is building (I'm fascinated by this building-- you'll probably see pictures of it later), "my" goats, and "my" rice mill that my father owns.  Until last Saturday I didn't have a clue what actually happened at "my" mill, but I finally got a chance to hang out there and see what really goes on.

Three different processes take place at the mill: dehusking the rice, making rice flour, and making beaten rice.  The day I was there they were mainly making the beaten rice.  First, people bring their rice here where it is roasted.  Someone is constantly throwing rice chaff into a fire under some clay basins and a blade is constantly mixing the rice.

Next, the roasted rice is put in this machine, where it is smashed into thin flakes, the chaff falling off in the process.  That's it.  The beaten rice is then put into bags and taken home.

This machine makes the rice flour.

I never actually saw this machine being used, but my family seems more proud of it than any of the others.  I assume its where the rice is dehusked.

And that's my mill.  Not exactly what I expected when I first heard about it, but it gets the work done.  I'm very proud of it.

Weeks 2 and 3

We’ve been in training for two weeks now (three by the time I actually get this posted).  It feels like much longer.  I’m at the point with the language where I still get supper excited when I understand what people are saying to me (it doesn’t happen all that often), but I’m understanding things more and more frequently.  I understand enough at least to know when my family is laughing at me for my eating habits, digestion problems, and all the other things I don’t do quite right.  Luckily I can still laugh at myself too.

Teej Festival.  Some of the volunteers got dressed up by their families and a picture of three of them ended up in the national newspaper with the caption “two Americans and a Nepali” (or something like that).  Some of us blend in better than others.

My bathroom.  I’m fortunate to have an indoor shower (aka a spicket higher up on the wall).  I can’t actually stand up straight in there, but overall it really is a nice set up.  I unfortunately spend a little too much time there...

It’s not often you get to meet dinner only hours before eating it (with my dad, uncles, and a mill worker—my dad owns a local rice mill).  Speaking of meat, I’ve very nearly decided to become vegetarian while here—the way the meat is prepared is delicious, but they have a tendency to eat parts that I’m not used to thinking of as food.  On the other hand, as morbid as it may sound, it was fascinating to watch the preparation process from start to finish.

I had another great food adventure this week: my brother asked me the other evening if I like bees.  I wasn’t sure how to answer, so said something vague like “I think they are good, but I don’t like them to be around me.”  His response: “No, no—to eat.”  I had no idea bees were edible.  The next day during the morning meal (we eat only two meals each day here) I was offered a serving of fried bees and bee larvae.  They weren’t the most delicious things I’ve ever eaten, but they weren’t the worst either (I still wasn’t brave enough to eat more than a few bites).

Theses are two of the older temples in Chautera that we pass by every time we come into town.  Most temples are much smaller and located by rivers or on the top of hills.

First aid training.  It was like girls camp all over again without any fake blood.  You’ll be happy to know we all survived.

Every once in a while (usually for just a few minutes in the morning) we can see the mountains.  Only with that perspective can you understand why they call this region the mid-“hills” region.

Oops...  The Peace Corps vehicle, the Defender, decided to take itself on a drive down the hill.  No one was hurt and the Defender is still working just fine.  It added a little excitement to the day though.

 

Our classroom.  We've started getting burned out on language training and were particularly tired on this day.  We mutinied and decided to play a game of Snakes and Ladders instead of have practice conversations for another hour.  We didn't have a spinner, so our LCF (language and cultural facilitator), Bimsen, drew one on the floor.  We were a little shocked at first, but it turns our white board marker will wipe off the linoleum-esque floor
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Last Saturday (our one day off each week) one of our host brothers (everyone seems related here, so I'm not sure really who's brother it was) took some of us on "a little bit long" hike down to the river.  We didn't realize "a little bit long" meant 6 or 7 hours of steep grades.  We took the road down and were able to see men welding piping together as part of a hydroelectric project.  That was pretty cool, but the best part was when we got to the bottom and got cold Sprite.  Cold drinks are a rare treat at any time here, but after three hours of hiking in really hot weather with not enough water, it was heavenly.  We took the "short cut" back up, which meant a narrow nearly vertical path, but we all survived.  It was actually a really pleasant path if you ignored the physical discomfort.