Festivals

So there has been a lot going on in the past couple of weeks, but instead of writing about it all I thought I would share some pictures. I was able to attend two festivals this past week on Tuesday and Wednesday. Tuesday was Janai Purninia when the Brahmin, switch the strings they wear. They must switch them after funeral rights and during this time. It is also when the medicine men and women, re-take their vows. The Brahmin also tie string on the right wrist of others, for protection. You also receive Tikha which is a red powder placed on your forehead, a blessing and the Brahmin also tie strings on those who wish protection (whether you are Brahmin or not). It all takes place in temples through out the country. We were in Patan Dubar Square which has a large Temple. It was a wonderful experience and the first time that I really felt a connection with Nepal. On Wednesday, it was Gha Jhatra, which is a combination of All Souls Day/Halloween and April Fools. We went to Bhaktapor which is about an hour away. Gha Jhatra is only fully celebrated in three different areas of the valley and Bhaktapor is the largest. It is also the most well preserved kingdom, since you have to pay to get into the town. But it is by far the closest to what I imagine medieval times were like. The festival itself is a way of honoring any family members who may have died in the past year. The belief is that when someone dies they must grasp the tail of a cow to ensure a good passage to the next life. However today most people don’t have cows, so they create “cows” either through the tall monuments, replica’s, and children dressed as cows. Though some families did have real cows. You then parade throughout the city the monument, while the family follows behind with incense. I think it is a beautiful way to honor those who have died. It really is a celebration of their life. Enjoy the pics!

The view from our rooftop

Ironic that mine is the most red

A cow parading through the streets

Outside the Temples

Receiving Thika

Brahmin with Thika and Strings

Brahmin tying strings for protection

What the Bump?

What the Bump?
So today I revcieved an e-mail from my mom with a link to a blog, which weirdly enough is from a group at Marquette, that had an article on Nepal. I have enclosed the address for the story.

http://www.mu-warrior.blogspot.com/

Now while we all had a good laugh when we read this article in the paper here, (not at them, but at how Nepal it is) it also really frustrates me. Why is this the piece of news that people see? I wasn’t really frustrated about this until today on my walk home from class. As I was walking home I saw a sign for the Nepal Air which made me think of the article, and then I looked in front of me to see Didi’s fighting there way with any containers they had for water that was flowing from a water truck, and I thought of how most people are on day 4 with out water (if you can afford to buy a tank of water, you have it, if not you don’t). Then as I walked on I noticed the miles of cars and bikes that are lined up for Petrol, and realize that this is such a common sight to me now, because there has been a shortage since I’ve been here. Most people pull there car into line and leave it knowing it won’t move for hours, many leave them over night to hold their spot. But it really got me when two street kids came up saying “Khanna Dinus” (please give me food) and then placed their head at my feet, which means their heads the most sacred place is less then my feet the most profane part. And my attempts to stop them with “testo bichaar nagarnus” or “teso nabhanus” Don’t think that or Don’t say that, didn’t make sense, because that is the value they feel. Which is hard for me, regardless that I know its because of that they do it. (Street kids are a whole different post) But no one hears about this, no, the news is that a wealthy man decided to slaughter two goats for an airline. Isn’t that cute? Hell, even the bombings here barley made news. And I know I am incredibly bias because I live here, and that there are many countries like Nepal that you never hear about, but to realize that the story that people do hear is something about goats? That’s just infuriating. After researching news sites, I realized that it was the most common story for Nepal; in fact on the BBC it was the story of the day for Wednesday! It’s a sad day when you realize that slaughtering goats for a plane is more newsworthy then people’s lives.

Peace and Quiet

I realized something very interesting about Kathmandu this past week. I always assumed that the reason why Kathmandu was so loud was because I am only out during the busy hours. But this past Tuesday I realized that even in the early morning there is no peace or serenity. * If you are not an animal person skip the next few sentences cause you won’t care* Early Tuesday I received a phone call from my mom, after a few minutes of small talk, she told me that we needed to put down our dog, Katie. She was fourteen and old age had finally caught up with her. Those who know my family and I know that this is a like losing a part of the family, so after hanging up I decided I needed a nice head clearing walk. So off I went, and the two-minute walk to the top of the lane was nice, but then as I almost got hit by a motorbike barreling past a man yelling at a barking dog, I remembered I lived in Kathmandu, and that doesn’t happen. But I would not let this deter my mission for peace and quiet. So I took a deep breath, and began coughing and gagging, on exhaust of the bus that I had not seen driving by. Still, I was determined and continued on past the butcher laying out the goats head, the mechanics pouring exhaust from the motorbikes they work on, and the many taxis slowing down and honking at the bidashi. As I walked things seemed to get louder, so I quickly turned down a side street, the usual eye in the storm of the city. Alas, Peace...until I see the school children on their way to class. So I make a loop through the shouts about exams, and SLC’s. As I turn up the side street to the main road, I realize I have entered the land of dogs. It seems that the starting point for the millions of dogs, is this road, and as I walk down I am followed by many furry friends, some rubbing against my legs, others nuzzling my hand. I want to run, but then I realize this is my neighborhood and I don’t want people to pass me and say “There’s that crazy bidashi who runs from dogs crying.” So I smiled at all the Didi’s pushing their veggie carts, using the filler word Lah to explain why I suddenly was the St. Francis of dogs. Once back on the main street, I found myself among the early celebrators of Krishna’s birthday. There were bells ringing and women dressed in red and pink surrounding me, wondering who was the crazy in the bright blue raincoat among them. Krishna is a Hindu god that it is believed all Hindu women are married to, so on his birthday they must place an offering at one of his shrines, which happens to be down the road from us. While I enjoyed watching for a bit, the ringing and shouting was not the peace I craved. So I began my defeated walk home, but alas as I walked up the stairs to our apartment, I remembered our rooftop. As I reached the roof, I could hear the distant horns and shouts, but they were drowned out by the view of the mountains around me. So I sat down and began to enjoy my peace, and then it began to rain. At this point I refused to let this get in the way, so I sat there in the rain not caring what the Didi’s rushing onto the roofs around me to grab laundry thought of the bidashi sitting in the pouring rain. So what the hell is the point of this story? Well just that maybe that is why Kathmandu is such a crazy place, because there is no peace and quiet, even at night there is the loud barking and cars racing on somewhat deserted roads. So how do people think? Especially those who can’t make it out to the villages where the noise is less? It honestly can drive a person crazy. So maybe if we all had a little more peace in our lives here, things like the Maoists or democracy, republic, monarchy would be less volatile. You could sit down and really think about the issues. And maybe it is all a little idealistic on my part, and I’ve had my first cup of coffee in a month so I’m wired and thoughts are everywhere, but I really do believe that a little peace quiet and meditation can go a long way. And here in Kathmandu, that is, as I discovered, very hard to find.

Reality of Change

On Sunday there were five bombs that went off in downtown Kathmandu. The explosions killed 3 and injured many more. It is about 20 minutes from where we live, in the area that we work. Two groups claimed it, both from the Tarai (southern region) where this violence is common. This is the first time in awhile that it has happened with in the city. It happened in Nepali rush hour on a workday because in Nepal the work week is from Sunday to Friday. The bombs were strategically placed through out the city and timed. Apparently, rumor says that they were five days late, meaning they were meant to go off on Jani Purtana which is the big festival that I mentioned earlier, which one can only hope that it really was a rumor. So where was I? Safe and sound at a café getting ready to call home, then I enjoyed a nice evening walk home. Once home we received a call from Greg our ICC, who told us about the bombings. You can imagine our surprise to hear that. But this is very telling of the fact that our only news is from the paper, or radio, which once we turned it on, had nothing. But even if we did have Internet, it is very rare for Nepal to make International news, so it wouldn’t have done much, but still it sucks to be surprised by something that happened down the road. This event brought a lot of firsts for the JV’s. It was the first time we felt affected by the violence because I can picture every place a bomb was set off, it was the first time JV’s needed to contact family to let them know we were fine, it was the first time I have felt shaken since being here but most importantly it was the first time I realized that I would be sad to leave. This last one was a bit of a surprise since its been a bit difficult at times here, but its true, if for some reason we needed to leave I would be r upset. But everyday brings new light, and it is clear this was an isolated incident. This type of violence as I said is very uncommon for the city, and if there were any fear for us, we would know. Though the following morning it was still unnerving to see a picture of a micro totally destroyed. One of the bombs was placed on a micro, which is something that we use all the time to get around. Another bomb was placed at a bus stop outside a secondary education school, which is equivalent to 11th and 12th grade. The others were placed in public places like the post office downtown, Martyrs Gate (irony?), and National Stadium. In all honestly it is really hard to believe that only two people died, especially when seeing the picture of the micro. That by far was the hardest for me. A man got on a micro placed the bag under his seat, got off at Ratanapark, which is a major micro stop, and my stop for work, and then it was timed and went off, meaning people were sitting on top of a bomb. It is just so difficult to wrap my mind around how people can just be so cruel, and dismiss human life. I know it happens all over the world, everyday but this is the first time that it has personally affected my life. Think about it, we hear about the Middle East and Darfur and all these other issues of injustice and we think God that’s horrible, so we sign our name to a petition, donate money or time, do our part, but it still is “out there”, it’s distant. I know cause I am on the mailing lists, I’m informed, but I don’t really understand, cause it doesn’t affect me personally. I’m not going to pretend I understand all that is happening here, cause I don’t, but I definitely am more aware of both the issues and my ignorance of them. And I have that personal connection of people I know flashing through my mind, thinking I hope they are okay. We had a really good community talk about it on Monday night, and we realized that while it’s easy to shake it off as “eh it happens here”, but then you think I could have easily been on that micro. I ride my bike past the stadium and post office and gate. Not that we are trying to be dramatic, but it’s a dose of reality of how so many people live everyday. I think the saddest thing is that I was talking with one of my language teachers Prem, about everything, and he said this is only temporary for you, because you can leave; this is permanent for the Nepalese. And its true because even if the elections happen, people will still be upset, things will still happen. Most Nepalese are so pessimistic about the government at this point to them there is no relief in sight. There is just so much to think about and to understand, it’s hard because there are different parties with different ideas, some agree with the peace accord others don’t. Some are powerful; many are not, but how long until they are? How can you ever think to please everyone, and how do you know who will respond in what way? It’s just a lot to think about especially with the potential election coming up. Though I honestly do not feel unsafe here (I promise Dad), if anything I am glad that I have the opportunity to be here in such a dynamic time, not to be a viewer or to have a claim to fame. But to really be able to acquire knowledge and understand what it is like to be on the brink of potential change. We are starting a wall in the apartment with articles and news clippings of all the political parties and happenings, in an attempt to understand things as they happen, which I will relay. But for now, just remember not only those who have died in Nepal, but the innocence that is lost everyday.

Kanti

Last Friday I went to Kanti children’s hospital with Katie. Kanti is the only children’s hospital in Nepal, so SAV (same who run mobile clinics), has a Ronald McDonald type house where families can stay while their children are in the hospital. SAV also pays for the medical procedures that the child needs, including food and medicine. I went on ward visits with volunteers, which is when you go to see how the patients they take care of are doing. It was intense, especially since hospitals here are quite different from home. In America you walk into a hospital and the smell of disinfectant burns you nose, everything is white and sterile. Patient confidentiality is closely guarded by HIPPA and even as volunteers you are lectured on the importance of this. At Kanti the first smell was that of the bathrooms mixed in with a faint bleach scent. The whole hospital is open, meaning hallways and walkways are not enclosed, which the effects of the elements can be seen everywhere, from the patients rooms, to the halls. Patient information is on open charts that are at the end of the beds. There are no dividers, and patient’s rooms are big open rooms, filled with beds that are surrounded by glass windows that look into the other rooms. There is no little old lady who stops you as you walk in, anyone can walk into any ward. And there are two very distinct wards, which are highlighted by the signs above them. Paying Ward and General Ward (Non-paying). The cancer and cardiac wards are together, followed by the burn ward. You remove your shoes and place sandals provided when going into any of the wards, except the Oncology ward where you are barefoot, and the General Ward, where you wear your shoes. In the general ward SAV also takes care of three abandoned children, 2 with hyperciosis which is when fluid forms around the brain, causing the child’s head to swell. This is treatable when caught in time, which it never is in Nepal. The children are 4 (which is a year more then she was given) and 1, and both their heads are at least 10x’s their normal size. The third child is 10 months old and was ephicsiated either during, right before or right after birth, so she is incredibly small for her age and deformed. All three children are considered hospice patients. Which is sad when you realize that all of these conditions are treatable. We started the ward visits in the Burn ward, which to be honest was something I didn’t think I could do. After switching shoes, we found our patient. I walked into a bare room and saw in the corner a 2-year-old boy with 30% of his body burned. He was sitting up in bed, watching the football field out his window, eating a banana. Most of his burns were on his face, arms, and upper chest. His Grandpa was with him, and you could just feel how much he loved his grandson. We asked him how he was doing and feeling, and he responded by singing us a song. It was the sweetest thing I’ve seen in awhile. And the whole time he was singing his Grandpa was just smiling so proudly. That was the one of the warmest moments I have had in Nepal. I can still hear his sweet little voice sing that song.
From there we went to the oncology ward where two patients are and usually the volunteers bring toys, but since none of the toys are clean enough to bring up to a cancer patient, they didn’t have any. Katie has suggested different toys for the Oncology floor, but the response is always the same, we have no money, what can we do? Then we went down to the General ward where we went into the severe mal-nutrition room. There was a four-year-old child who weighed less then her 1-year-old sister. This was really intense to see, because they were diagnosing her with malnutrition, but there was obviously more wrong, since the women’s three other children were healthy, and this little girl was eating. But to see not only her but also all of the other small children was hard. Many of them go to the Malnutrition clinic where they can receive more individualized treatment. There was a woman there who the nurses were trying to tell that her son needed to go to the Malnutrition clinic. The woman did not want to take him because she wanted to go home since her husband just left her for older wealthier woman. I learned that this is not uncommon; that men will often leave their wives for other women, especially if they are poor and the woman is not. However, a woman cannot leave her husband, yet must accept that her husband has left her. So this woman was not only dealing with an incredibly ill child but the possibility of no longer having a husband. She decided to not go to the clinic, which inevitably decided her son’s fate as well.
In the next room we visited I met a dad, Danesh, whose son, Rajish, had “phenomena like problem.” Katie was donating blood for Rajish because he needed more blood, which was an interesting ordeal itself. One of the volunteers asked Katie what her blood type was and then she was off to donate. She went into a room where the nurse had someone hold her upper arm like a cuff while she tried to find a vein; she then took a sample of blood to see if it was a match to the sample from Rajish. We waited an hour and then she went and donated the rest. It was really cool to see the child that the blood would help, and the father went with us the whole way, which was sweet. He wanted to donate blood but is unable to. It’s just really encouraging to see a male figure, especially a father and husband in such a positive light, especially right after hearing about the other woman’s husband.
Kanti, was an overwhelming place in general, from the smells, to the biohazard materials that fall out of the open garbage’s, to the amazing strength of both patients and workers. And it had an interesting effect on me. I always assumed that I couldn’t work in a medical setting because I couldn’t handle things like the burn ward, but I am realizing that maybe I shut things out too soon. I understand it is only one experience and you can’t judge all after one, but I also am realizing that maybe there are more options in my future then I thought.