Pus 15 (Gurung New Years)

Nepal doesn't use the Western calendar.  There are still 12 months in a year, just offset by 14 or 15 days, and the year starts in mid April.  Many ethnic groups, however, start the year on other days.  For Gurungs, the New Year starts on Pus 15 (December 30^th this year).  My village hosted quite a party.

A few days beforehand there was a clean-up day at the cemetery.

The next day everyone gathered to present food offerings to their deceased ancestors.  Apparently dead people particularly like cigarettes, alcohol, fruit, and fried snacks.

Then we got to eat the leftovers.

I jokingly refer to the day as "going to feed dead people," but I think it was my favorite holiday here so far.  It’s nice that people set aside at least one day each year to get together and think of those that have gone before them.

The next day the real celebration began.  Gurungs from all over the area came dressed in traditional clothing.  First we ate lots of food (the most important part of any celebration…)

And then there was singing and dancing (especially by those who had a bit too much to drink beforehand)

Sacred threads (a component of Hinduism that I don't know much about) were handed out and speeches made.

And then the real dancing began.  My villagers practiced this one for weeks beforehand.

I'm not sure what happened after that… My feet were frozen so I snuck home and went to bed.

Tihaar, Farewells, and my New Home

Tihaar is the second biggest festival in Nepal and lasts five days.  People often go door to door singing and dancing to raise money.

I went with my little nieces and nephews one night—it's a lot like trick-or-treating;  you go from one house to another singing a certain song and collecting money.  The song they sing is actually pronouncing a blessing on the house, but to someone who doesn't know what they're saying it mostly sounds like we're just being obnoxious until they give us money.

During this festival the goddess of power and wealth is worshiped.

There's lots of feasting

On the last day brothers are worshiped.

It sounds a little unfair (this is after all a male dominated culture) until you realize that brothers aren't supposed to receive anything from their sisters for free.  Sisters present a small gift, usually of food, and receive a much larger gift, usually money, from their brothers, who usually end up sharing all the food their given anyway.

Once Tihaar was over all the visiting family members went back to their homes and we had to get back to work.  To help prepare us for the work we will eventually be doing in our permanent sites, we were required to find out about our community then plan and carryout a project that would meet their needs.  The majority of adult women in our community are illiterate, so we decided to organize an activity where we taught the youth how to be teachers.  It was a good idea but horribly planned.

Miraculously, it ended up going really well.  The kids were so excited just to be given a small book, notebook, and pen all of their own that nothing else really mattered.  I doubt any of our original objectives in the activity were obtained, but we all had fun.

Soon after our project was complete it was time to pack up and say goodbye to our families.

We received a ritual farewell (which included a lot of hardboiled eggs—not a good idea before a windy car ride) at one house after another.

And then we were gone.  I really hope I will get to go back some day.

Our final week of training was spent in Kathmandu. 

I still think it's a big ugly dirty city, but it started to grow on me a bit once I started to learn my way around.

After a week of unbearably long meetings, the big day finally came.  We graduated.

I'm officially a Peace Corps Volunteer now.  Lots of very important people were there and they gave lots of speeches and there was a giant cake, but really it was a bit anticlimactical.  I'm just glad it's over.  I hear the entire program was posted on the American Embassy's web page if you really want to know more.

Early the next morning the 20 of us said our goodbyes to each other and climbed into different busses to head to our new homes.

 I am now living in Aarupata, Jagatebhanjyan, Syangja District.  It reminds me of San Luis a lot at times, but we have slightly more impressive views here.

My "work" for my first three months here is simply to learn the language (my villagers are primarily of the Gurung ethnic group and don't always speak Nepali, so this is a bit harder than hoped) and to learn about my community.  My villagers tell me I should write on my reports that we don't do any work here—just sing, dance, and eat.

That's not far from the truth (this is good news for me—it seems being willing to dance just about anywhere any time goes a long way towards making up for not talking much).  Until just a few years ago, Aarupata survived on subsistence agriculture.  Everything changed after installing a solar powered water pump that allows the farmers to irrigate some fields.  They now produce and sell tomatoes year round and are embracing just about every development idea that comes their way.  They are proud of what they have done and have become a destination for agro-tourism so they can share their accomplishments with others.  Several times a month groups will come from all over Nepal (foreigners are welcome too if you wanted to stop by and visit).  The visitors are warmly welcomed, well fed, get to go on the official tour, and enjoy a dance party. 

People have been asking for months what I will be doing here.  I still can't give a complete answer, but I can finally give a fairly good idea.  Helping to develop agro-tourism in the area will be one of my top priorities.  I may also give technical advice on tomato, orange, and coffee production as well as bee keeping.  I will work with mothers groups to help improve maternal and infant nutrition and try to help raise standards of sanitation.  The possibilities are limitless really.

Personal Experience Days

 Once training was about 3/4 finished, the twenty of us were sent off in groups of 2 on a two night journey, just to see if we could survive.  My friend, Tom, and I ended up in Barabise.

We got there fine, learning all about the Nepali bus system, found our hotel, watched ladies working at a paper factory for a while, went on a hike, and suddenly realized we were going to be board out of our minds with a whole other day to spend there.  So, the next day we decided to go two hours further up the road to Tatopani where there were some famous hot springs.

We never actually went to the hot springs though.  We discovered lots of other cool things to do.

Like look at beautiful waterfalls.

And walking to China. 

It may not sound super cool in the retelling, but it made our day.  It even almost made up for the 2 hour delay in our bus ride, waiting to be checked out for smuggled goods.

It was during that 4 hour bus ride that I learned that there's no such thing as a full bus in Nepal, a truth I've experienced over and over again since then.  I think half the people got off before I got the chance to take this picture.

My last for a while... my computer died!

The last few weeks have been so busy that there hasn't been much of a chance for anything to happen, if that makes any sense.  Here's a little more about Dasain:

Halloween was a quiet day, but we did talk our teacher into taking us to the local creamatorium:

 It was a wonderfully peaceful place, out in the middle of the woods.

I finally got a kurta.  It was a difficult process and ridiculously expensive (apparently I'm too tall for the less expensive fabric).  First you go to the fabric store, where they have packets of fabric to choose from.  I haven't gotten any better at making choices, so that was painful.  Then you take the fabric to a tailor and get measured and decide what style you want (more hard choices!).  A few days later you come back, make sure it fits, and then you're set.  I suppose I really shouldn't complain too much about spending $25 on a nice custom made outfit.

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.