Peace in Nepal?

This is the cover article for Time here. Below is also a link for a photo essay Time recently did of Nepal.

Comrade Sandhya's voice trembles as she speaks of her father. "He was a major in the Royal Nepalese Army," she begins, cupping her chin with one hand while rearranging a neat schoolgirl plait with the other. "When he found out I had gone underground, he said I was no longer his daughter — only his enemy. The next time he wanted to meet me was on the battlefield."
That encounter, to Sandhya's relief, never came to pass. In 1996, as a 14-year-old student from a town north of the capital Kathmandu, she joined Nepal's Maoist cadres at the moment when their armed insurgency had just begun to take hold of this rugged Himalayan nation, long a magnet for foreign backpackers and adventurers. Her father's military income meant Sandhya did not grow up among the country's many poor, but she chafed under the rigid caste laws and gender norms that blunted her parents' ambitions and stripped her of the same opportunities as men. The Maoists, led by their talismanic leader Pushpa Kamal Dahal, a.k.a. Prachanda, promised her and thousands of others nothing less than a complete reordering of society, and Sandhya gave herself to the struggle, fighting as a soldier in a decade-long civil war that claimed over 13,000 lives and displaced countless more.
Today, Sandhya sits batting away mosquitoes in a sparse wood cabin, part of a sprawling Maoist cantonment in the southern district of Chitwan. She believes victory is at hand. A peace process triggered by mass protests in April 2006 against the autocratic rule of Nepal's King Gyanendra brought the Maoists into the political mainstream, paving the way for the extraordinary transformation of a country ruled for two and a half centuries by Hindu kings into a secular republic. Both the Royal Nepalese Army and the Maoist guerrillas — the civil war's bitter foes — returned to their barracks and camps with the stated intention of eventually reforming into one new national force. "We all want democracy. No one here wants to fight again," Sandhya insists. Even her father, who has since retired, has reconciled with Sandhya. "He respects my decisions now," she says. "He realized I was a figure of change."
Change can bring uncertainty, however, not just for Nepal but for other countries. Nepal, a country of 28 million, is sandwiched between the world's rising giants, India and China, who both have cast their eye over the Himalayan nation as a buffer against the other. Any unrest in Nepal — hostilities have been suspended, not buried — could spill across into its restive borderlands, particularly Chinese Tibet and the troubled Indian state of Bihar — developments that Beijing and New Delhi would view with alarm. Nepal's Maoists, moreover, are still on the U.S. State Department's list of terror groups. They have traded their guerrilla hideouts for plush offices in the capital, but had a fearsome reputation for committing violence when the armed struggle raged.
Indeed, the hatreds that fueled the civil war threaten even now to bubble over. Elections for an assembly that would draft Nepal's new republican constitution are slated for April 10, but only after much bickering and dithering. Nepalis of all stripes are losing faith in the seven parties, including the Maoists, that make up the country's feuding interim government and see corruption and cynical power-politicking stifling the nation's slow reconstruction from the ashes of war. Over a third of the population still lives below the poverty line.
As the politicians fiddle in Kathmandu, a hundred mutinies burn around the country: vigilante gangs run rampant in the countryside, while ethnic groups long marginalized under the monarchy have taken to armed uprising, especially in the southern lowlands of the Tarai where over 40% of Nepal's population lives. A cocktail of anarchist elements, militant factions and a growing separatist movement hold sway there and prove a daunting challenge with elections coming in little more than two months. "What happened in Kenya could happen here," says Jayaraj Acharya, a former Nepalese ambassador to the U.N., speaking of the ongoing ethnic conflict in the African nation triggered by disputed elections, which has claimed hundreds of lives. "Only here," Acharya adds, "it will be worse."
A False Dawn
The security situation in a nepal under cease-fire is dismal. During the civil war, both the Maoists and the Royal Nepalese Army held brutal sway over segments of the country, but now, as they wait in their camps, law and order has deteriorated. Reports filter in every week of kidnappings for ransom. Last December, a Swiss trekker was beaten up after refusing to pay money to a few rogue Maoists, a worrying sign for a country heavily reliant on the money brought in by foreign tourists. Many in Kathmandu blame the Youth Communist League (YCL), created by the Maoists less than a year ago, for much of the disorder. Red YCL banners around parts of Kathmandu urge Nepalis to report "suspicious, reactionary activity" to cell-phone numbers emblazoned on the cloth. As soon as night falls in the capital — which, as a bastion for the King's army, had been safe during all of the years of the civil war — the usually teeming streets grow deserted. "The police have no motivation at all right now," complains Kanak Dixit, editor of Himal magazine and an outspoken advocate of democracy. "There is an alarming surge in crime."
Public safety isn't the only challenge the interim government has failed to negotiate. Fiscal mismanagement has led to chronic fuel shortages across the country; lines in Kathmandu extend for kilometers and prices have tripled in less than half a year. Last week, protests against rising fuel prices shut down the capital. Kathmandu residents face at least six hours of power cuts a day. The government has been unable to raise Nepal's middling growth rate, which hovers around 2%, and funds many of its programs on an IV drip of foreign aid. Trade-union activism and general strikes, some suspect spurred in part by the YCL, disrupt factories in outlying areas and basic services in the cities. During Christmastime around Kathmandu, sanitation workers had been agitating for over three months. Piles of garbage festered around every cobblestoned corner of the city, visceral reminders of a deeper rot seeping into the nation.
"We live in a broken state," says Mandira Sharma, a leading human-rights activist. For the past five years, she and her NGO, Advocacy Forum, have investigated hundreds of cases of disappearances that took place during the decade-long civil war. To Sharma, both the Maoists and the Nepal Army are guilty of a catalog of atrocities, from forced recruitment to extrajudicial killings. Attaining justice for the victims (and compensation for the nearly 200,000 displaced) ought to be as important to the country's push toward democracy as elections. "But human rights don't seem to be anyone's priorities here," she laments. "The problem is a failure of political leadership."
Elections for a Constituent Assembly, which have thus far been canceled twice, became the focal point of political squabbling. The first date, June 17 last year, was missed for mostly logistical reasons. Nepal simply wasn't ready at the time to hold a fair and efficient poll. But the Maoists scuppered the next date, November 22, much to the chagrin of many Nepalis as well as the international community. Reneging on earlier understandings, the Maoist leadership grandstanded on a set of demands that included the outright abolition of the monarchy before its fate could be determined by popular referendum. When the other parties — including the establishment Nepali Congress, the party of the country's current Prime Minister Girija Prasad Koirala — refused to accede to the Maoist agenda, the Maoists pulled out of the government and plunged the peace process into a rancorous impasse.
"It showed how unnatural the alliance is between all the interests in the interim government," says Kamal Thapa, a royalist politician who served as Home Minister under Gyanendra. Up till last year, the Congress Party had always defended the idea of constitutional monarchy, a commitment enshrined by their party following similar protests in 1990 that curbed royal power. But the need to assuage the Maoists changed the equation. "The Congress has had to understand the new political reality," says C.P. Gajurel, a top Maoist politician, "and it has been difficult for them."
The Maoists see themselves as the agents of democracy in Nepal, stifled by the objections of reactionary, status-quo forces, while many in the Congress, let alone in factions aligned still to the ancien régime of the monarchy, doubt the radical guerrillas' commitment to any political scenario where they may not retain complete control. Despite a compromise thrashed out at the end of last year, which set elections for this April, observers expect conflict to be inevitable. "What more must we give the Maoists?" asks R.S. Mahat, Nepal's Finance Minister and a Congress Party member. "Their strategy is simply to create crisis. They are not honest."
This distrust speaks volumes of Nepal's present predicament, where parties spar over everything from the distribution of ministries to the appointment of ambassadors. "There is no genuine consensus at all," says Rhoderick Chalmers, Nepal expert for the International Crisis Group. Continued discord only strengthens the hand of the weakened King. Though the throne has lost much of its credibility under Gyanendra, many Nepalis still look to the institution as a source of stability and unity. "You can't legislate away the emotional link of the people," says Thapa. Others, including journalist Dixit, fear further squabbling and political anarchy could lead to a more ominous "right-wing backlash ... where royalist elements in the army would step in on the pretext of stability." Further heightening tensions, Prachanda, the Maoist leader, made noises as recently as November about returning the people's war to the jungle if progress toward a republic wasn't made. "Either through [the Maoists] or through the army," warns royalist Thapa, "we are going to see some sort of authoritarian solution."
The End of Kings
The threat of a coup may be exaggerated, but it points to perhaps the single greatest achievement of the Maoist insurgency: the unraveling of a national myth. Nepal came into being through the 1768 military campaign of King Prithvi Narayan Shah and his army drawn from Gurkha tribes in the hills near Kathmandu. Ever since, Nepal's polity has remained largely unchanged: its borders an approximation of the land conquered, its political élites tied to old families close to both the monarchy and the army, and its princely rulers all descended from the same messianic line. Power and legitimacy radiated outward from the palaces of Kathmandu into a highly hierarchical society in the countryside, where feudal mores and caste discrimination still hold sway. Propped up first by the British, keen to have a client buffer to the north of its imperial heart, and later India, this arrangement rarely had to fear outside interference and had remained roughly intact for more than two centuries.
Nepal's monarchy hammered the nail in its own coffin in spectacular fashion in 2001, when Crown Prince Dipendra gunned down 10 members of the royal family, including the much beloved King Birendra, and then allegedly shot himself. The attack, clouded by conflicting reports and conspiracy theories, sent shock waves around the world and plunged Nepal into existential crisis. With a centuries-old dynasty virtually eliminated overnight, in stepped the reigning King's brother, Gyanendra. As the Maoist insurgency raged, Gyanendra declared a state of emergency in 2005, arresting mainstream political leaders and assuming absolute power. But he could not quash the Maoists, whose influence grew apace in rural areas around the country. Rumors swirled depicting Gyanendra as a man given to superstition and mysticism, who would sooner look to the stars or a coterie of tantric priests for counsel than his political advisers. "He wanted control, he wanted to be a heroic savior," says a source close to the court, "but he had few actual ideas, if any."
Gyanendra's power play worked to the advantage of the Maoists. Their urban cadres and activists played a prominent part in the 19 days of mass demonstrations in April 2006 that ended King Gyanendra's absolute rule and led to the reconvening of parliament. The surge of popular goodwill at the time catapulted the guerrillas out of their jungle redoubts and into the international limelight. Prachanda, whose very existence had been in doubt only a few years before, appeared on televisions regionwide, saluting crowds and pressing the flesh. A King had been toppled, a war ended, and change in Nepal looked very much on the way.
The Way Forward
Little has gone according to script since the people-power protests 22 months ago. In November 2006, the Maoists committed to a peace accord with other prominent pro-democracy parties in Nepal and joined the new interim government that would rule until elections for a Constituent Assembly could take place. But the acrimonious squabbling that followed has dispelled many of the hopes raised by the success of the mass demonstrations. "We just felt so proud being Nepali then," says Sanjog Rai, a college student in Kathmandu. "The protests showed us how united we were and that feeling of brotherhood gave us real hope for a better future. Now we're stuck with politicians who have no vision and only care about keeping power."
There is a broad consensus among Nepal's strife-worn people that parliamentary democracy must come sooner rather than later. "A functioning government can't be in a permanent state of transition," says Bojraj Pokhrel, chief of Nepal's Electoral Commission. Now, Pokhrel will have to manage a staff of over 230,000 election workers spread across the mountainous country, some in polling stations miles away from local roads. Highways and bridges were routinely bombed during the civil war, making transportation in a nation with woeful infrastructure difficult at the best of the times. Still, Pokhrel is confident Nepal has the means to carry the elections out. "The people are all hungry for this," he says.
But they'll remain disappointed as long as the interim government's leaders fail to forge any meaningful political unity. "It's a testing time for them," says Acharya, the former ambassador to the U.N. "One wonders if they'll prove their statesmanship." The only indication that they will, most observers drily point out, is that neither the Maoists nor the Congress Party have any better alternative other than sorting out their differences and calming the many fractious forces that might undermine April's polls.
If they don't, the international community must do more to safeguard elections and move the peace process forward. Nepal's giant neighbors, India and China, both backed the monarchy during the civil war, supplying it with weapons and aid. India, which has close ties with virtually every faction in Nepal, eventually shepherded the peace process along, forcing the main political parties to come to terms with the Maoists. China has remained a bit more circumspect, letting India flex its geopolitical muscle while building bridges with the Nepali Maoists it shunned until not long ago and beefing up its hydropower investments along Nepal's glacial rivers. As the budding superpowers expand in influence and ambition, many see Nepal falling into the crosshairs of a new "Great Game" for the 21st century.
Beyond the turmoil and political intrigue looms the very real chance that Nepal might join the region's sorry list of failing states — populated already by Bangladesh, Sri Lanka and Pakistan. Besides forging alliances and staging elections, the country and its politicians need to steel themselves for the thorny task of drafting a constitution that reconciles its feuding factions and enfranchises all its kaleidoscope of ethnic groups. "This is a crisis hundreds of years in the making," says S.D. Muni, a Nepal scholar formerly at Jawaharlal Nehru University in New Delhi. "Whole groups have never been in the political structure. You have to in effect create a new Nepal."
Back in Sandhya's Chitwan camp, the commander, named Biwidh, clings to such hope. From a poor, indigenous-minority family, he speaks urgently of peace and of the need for a competitive, multiparty democracy. A slight man with a scarred, weathered face, Biwidh looks much older than his 34 years, and describes his time spent warring in the jungle with primitive rifles and stones in hushed, quick breaths, as if he would rather forget about it. As Nepal lurches from one crisis to another, Biwidh says the soldiers in his camp are in a permanent state of readiness. "If the revolution must be fought again," he sighs, turning his head to the setting sun, "it will be."

http://www.time.com/time/photogallery/0,29307,1708984_1527435,00.html

Chiyaa

A few Sundays ago I went into Thamel to do a little Christmas shopping. Katie and I had, ordered rice bags that were being made into purses and I was picking them up. When I walked up the backstairs to the sewing room of the shop, I was greeted by Krishna and Ram, the father and son who own the shop. I was informed the bags were not ready but would be "soon." Soon in Nepal could be anywhere from a half hour to a half a day. I was contemplating what I could do to "kill" the time. Shop a little more? Go to the office and check e-mails? What to do? My thoughts were intreupted by Krishna saying "Mero bihani baschu, tapaii chiyaa khanus." Which simply means my little sister sit and drink tea. As I stumbled to think of reasons why I could not, things to do, people to see, Krishna left, and Ram informed me he is bringing tea. So I pulled up a stool and sat. As I sat and watched Ram work, I was able to hear more his life. He has worked in his father's shop since he was seven (he is now 27), but would like to open his own shop some day. He has been to France, and Germany, because a family he met in Nepal and worked for now lives there and paid for him to come. He use to live in a tent village on the river, but was able to move into houses run by an NGO, because his father was their Nepali translator, all of which he did for no cost. His mother works at home, but spends her days going back to the tent villages and streets around their house and takes care of the poor and sick however she can, whether its bringing them home to bathe or cloth them, or simply to talk with them. As we were talking Krishna came in with our chiyaa, and the conversation continued. We shared about our families, home, and the work we do. As I got ready to leave, I asked Krishna what I owed for the chiyaa, in which he laughed and said nothing. He explained, Chiyaa is more then a drink, it is the time spent drinking chiyaa that is important, and that you must always find time to drink chiyaa. I smiled thanked them both, hoping they knew that I meant for both the bags and the time. As I walked out the door Krishna called after me, Remember, my bhaini always have time for chiyaa.

A few days ago, Katie and I were in a rush to meet a friend when we walked past Krishna and Ram's shop, we stopped in for Katie to return a purse. As we walked in we were greeted by Krishna saying come have chiyaa. And so we sat, drank tea, and were ridiculously late in meeting our friends, but I will always have time for chiyaa.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year to All! With the new year comes a new look, it was mentioned that the dark background was hard to read so I updated the blog, hope you enjoy the new look! New Years was spent dancing the night away at a ceilidh. It was a wonderful way to bring in the New Year. Wishing you all the peace and joy in 2008!

A Challenge to Love

In high school I took a class called loving. It was mainly about how we are called to love others and self, and all aspects of what “love” is. I took the class because who doesn’t like the idea of love? But as I continue life here in Nepal I am learning that love is ever so complicated, especially loving those who are loved least. As I walk down the street, street children and women begging for money, or food often bombard me. Every time I come upon them, I freeze, a part of me wants to reach into my bag and give a rupee and the other part, hears “Don’t perpetuate the cycle.” This cycle being white people have money and will give it to me. Which as I have experienced is true. I work in Thamel, which is the major tourist area of Nepal. It is the “downtown” of Kathmandu if you will. And numerous times I have seen tourists reach into their pockets and place a hundred rupee note into their bowl, mainly because it is a little over a dollar to them, but in Nepal a hundred rupees can buy, a nice meal, warm clothes, and glue to sniff, with a little left over, all that a child could want. So why would they give up this life? They probably make more on the streets in Thamel then they could if they got a job, and its not as much work. So where does that leave me? It is hard to walk pass the same men each day who crawl along the streets, or the children who run up to me glue bag in hand and snot coming from their nose. I feel the tug to give, but I usually end up saying Namaste and move on. It’s also the reason we rarely go out in Thamel, because how can we pass a child that morning and say I can’t give you money, and then walk by that same child that night on our way to a bar or restaurant? And then there are the children by our house. While in Thamel I find it easier to say no, because most kids are strung out and I can’t support that and I know that there are tourists on their way to give a couple hundred rupees to them. But by our house the same family of women and children approach me at least three times a week. And it’s hard because here the women and children will grab you, and hold onto you as you try to walk away. And no matter how many times I try to say politely I’m sorry Didi but I don’t have anything, it usually takes me saying Roknu, a command form for them to let go, that or someone pushing them off me which leaves me fighting back tears and wondering was that really worth it? Wouldn’t it have been easier just to give them a rupee?
I have thought about this a lot, especially with the Christmas seasons. In almost all of the major religious teachings there is mention of loving one another. In Buddhism we are taught “Hurt not others in ways you yourself would find hurtful,” in Islam “No one is a believer until you desire for another that which you desire for yourself,” and Jesus taught us “love one another as you wish to be loved.” When I was home I tried to practice this, if I had change in my pocket or extra food and someone asked for it I gave it to them no questions asked. And why? Because I hoped that if I was in their situation someone would do the same for me. This belief is what led me to Nepal. Where I currently ignore pleas for hunger or help, because I don’t want to perpetuate a cycle? But will my not giving really end this cycle? Yes, it might be a step in the right direction, but at the same time, there were stigmas to me giving at home too. I was a white college student, just like I am a white person here, yet for some reason being in a foreign country changes this? I understand why it is not good to keep this idea of being white and giving, but at the same time, what is the cost of this? Going hungry? And it is different here. Nepal has no stable government, very few out reach programs to help, and many of these women and children are on the streets because husbands or parents have abandoned them.
So what to do? While I don’t know if I will ever find a solution I am happy with, one thing is that I have started carrying fruit on me, which I give instead of money, especially while in Thamel, so that they actually get food. Though, the reaction is usually that of disdain, and I walk away feeling the same as if I didn’t do anything. Which I think comes from the lack of connection I feel. And it also opens doors into my attitude of appreciation. Why does someone need to appreciate something? And it’s a good thing that even when I help I still feel uneased because this situation is more then handouts and food, it is a larger problem involving the country and its ability to throw its children to the streets. It is good that I am constantly questioning and looking for ways to help. I also have realized just how important it is to learn Nepali, because it is my only way to communicate with people, especially the children who are so used to being ignored. And at the end of the day the fact is that they are children who are just looking for someone to care. So while taking “Loving” was a wonderful concept, as I sat in that classroom, never did I think my idealistic ideas of love would be challenged so much, and it may be one of the most important challenges I will continue to face. And if the challenge is to love, then what a beautiful thing that is.

Merry Fisticuffs!

I hope this finds you all well and enjoying the holiday season. As I have mentioned Christmas is pretty non-existent here, but I have been doing my best to make up for it! Which for those of you who saw Strack G last year know this is something I take seriously, though we don't have a tree to take up our whole front-hall way but I'm working on decorating a nice house plant. I figured I would update you a little on all that has been going on here.

What we lack in Christmas now, was made up during the festival Tihar. Tihar is the festival of lights, which is obviously why I loved it! It felt like the Christmas season. People place christmas lights (my favorite being the ones that actually played christmas music, hello globalization), candles and marigold strands all around their houses and businesses. It is a four-day festival of dancing, singing, eating and just plain joy. I was able to spend some of it with my family which was wonderful. While staying with my family, I helped my Amma and Sujhana make Sol Roti, which is round piece of fried bread. To make it you take the dough and pour it into a pot of hot oil, in a circular motion. Sounds easy enough right? And for most people it would be, but for me who can barley draw a circle (Studio Art minor anyone?) it was a challenge that ended in a pile of fried dough (still delicious), and gave a good laugh for my Amma and Sujhanna. But what I lacked in creating I made up in eating (those who thought I would come home thin and frail, don't you worry). It is by far my favorite festival so far.

I also experienced my first sports day, or actually as it should be Sports DAY!!! This is not just a day but a history changing event, or at least that is how it comes across. So what is Sports Day? It is when 8 different teams compete against each other for prizes (certificates and sometimes a medal) and the winning team gets a trophy the size of the Sears Tower that has been around since Nepal had a stable government (no? too soon to joke about that?). The teams are made up of different kids from each grade, and the teams have names like Panthers and Jaguars. I went to the one at Godavari, since my siblings go and me fellow JV's teach, so I have a connection to the school. Overall it was like a big track and field day we use to have in grade school, except we never had a biscuit eating contest (in which you run to a stick that has biscuits hanging from it eat on , no hands, and then run to the finish line). I was enjoying watching the events, (Sujhana one first twice, Pouja one best athlete, Chris was a strong contender in the tug-of-war and Dennis and Sarah helped the teachers beat the mothers in a relay [you read that right]). I even got to judge the marching and PT (again you read that right), though I don't know how good I was since the sole reason I gave first place to the bears was because it was World AIDS day and they wore red ribbons...not exactly unbiased. Overall it was a fun day and while I might not agree with all the aspects, it was still fun to watch all the kids get excited.

and finally, Baby it is cold outside! While I pride myself on being a Midwestener (ask my roommates), it is freezing here and it is only December! Though I do have a slight advantage in the sleeping bag that is prepared for -20 degrees, I just wonder if I can make that into a snowsuit for the next few months.... While it doesn't actually get colder the low 20's, there is no central heat here, so there is no relief from the cold, it just settles in you. I am instantly taken back to during my discernment weekend when I laughed after saw a picture of someone all bundled up and only there eyes peeking out, never thinking I would become that person. But before you send heaters or warm clothes, don't worry I am doing fine. It actually reminds me of our heatless apartment last Winter, so I am well prepared. That and I have given in to all vanity and proudly wear my long underwear, multiple layers, and the hardest, socks and sandals. Though I was disappointed to find out that it does not snow in the valley, so while it is cold I do not get the benefit of falling snow. Such is life.

As for other things, regarding the last post, things have been changing and everything is up in the air right now. I can't really get into too much detail because there are no definites. All I ask is that you keep the JV's here in your thoughts and prayers as we are all learning the meaning of patient. And to excuse my lack of communication while everything is happening. It just has a way of consuming all aspects of life right now as much as I try to not let it.

I will end for now with a line from my one of my favorite holiday movies:
"With as much dignity as he could muster, the Old Man gathered up the sad remains of his shattered Major Award. Later that night, alone in the backyard, he buried it next to the garage. Now I could never be sure, but I thought that I heard the sound of "Taps" being played. Gently. "

Help My Unbelief

Happy Holidays! It is hard to believe that I have been in Nepal four months, at times it feels like I just got here. Since Nepal is a Hindu society, the Christmas season is very different here. The only places that have lights or any "christmas" feeling are those that cater to the Bidashi crowd. For example, the cafe where I use the internet (and get my coffee fix) has a Christmas tree with lights (and yes I am sitting next to it listening to Christmas music while typing this). But I will walk out into the garbage filled streets, surrounded by people who will try to sell the white girl fruit and trinkets, or grab her in an attempt to see how desperate they are for food and money. Whoo a little resentment there, yes its true, Nepal is starting to wear me down. Its not so much the country itself, because I really do enjoy Nepal, as it is the situation in which I am here. My job continues to be a major desolation and frustration for me. I currently spend my days working on publications for the two projects we are associated with here, and will then create a calendar and magazine article after that. But after this month when I should be done with it all, my future is still one big question. Ideas are constantly thrown around and I am always present, telling myself, as I have learned, to not get my hopes up on the promises made by those who can not guarantee anything. Its just hard to realize that the position I accepted here is never going to be what I actually do, and that while our mission as a JV is to come to a placement that needs us, I will probably have to go out and seek my own position, therefore creating a need, not fulfilling it. It has been the topic of discussion among my community mates and I since I got here, and one that continues to be circular. Although, it has become pretty obvious that the GA will no longer need new JV's, which means that we both started and finished a placement. How many JV's can say that? Where does this all leave me? In the same limbo I have been since arriving in Nepal. I am continually trying to find the positives and see how this is a good challenge for me, but my faith is growing weak and my belief is waning fast. But at the same time, I knew this would happen, not the job issue, but the test of faith, but I am beginning to doubt just how strong my faith really is. Was I really called to this? To be stuck in a limbo of political BS and situations that I can not control? The view of us JV's is based off of past JV's who may not have been the best, but we can not control that and it is not fair to judge us because of past JV's. It seems like every time there is a glimpse of light at the end of the tunnel, it is quickly lost by another wall being built up. I know I should be looking for ways to knock these walls down and to push through this time, but to be honest it is exhausting. Between, learning and using a new language, adapting to a new culture, bargaining to get the Nepali price not the Bidashi, doing the math fast enough to know how much a kilo of potato's should really cost, telling Didi that we again have no water, adjusting to nights without power and trying to stay warm, which seems to be just going home and hibernating to my sleeping bag (thank you Uncle Lou for my little oven) I just don't have the energy to look for a placement. And the thing is I could easily spend the next two years sitting in the office doing little projects, going on some clinics, continue this random life, but I can't, I just can't reconcile coming to Nepal for that. Especially when you look around and see that there are people who are dying everyday because no one cares for them, kids are openly sniffing glue as I pass them on the street, people need help. Yet, I report to an office everyday, where I sit and work on a computer all day. And while yes these brochures will be sent to donors who will hopefully send money to help our programs and thats great, but I need more, I need human interaction. I need to feel that my job is necessary. Maybe, I am being to idealistic, but I just want to walk away from this experience feeling that I didn't just have a two year immersion experience, that I didn't waste two years being a JV when there are countless other programs that I could have done either abroad or at home and gained beneficial experience. I could have been home for the holidays. I don't want this to be a resume builder, that is not what I signed up for. Fortunately, the JV office is coming in January to have a Re-O/Dis-O retreat with us all, which will be good, cause hopefully answers will come, faith will be restored, and I will understand better my role here. I don't know maybe its the fact that its the holidays, or that I am feeling more then ever the distance from here and home, but right now I just pray to help my unbelief.

Family

Right after returning from Jhapa I headed to Godavari for my home-stay. To be honest it was something that I was not looking forward too, I was really nervous about staying with a family I did not know for a week, especially since my Nepali is still weak. But after about an hour with my family, I knew it was going to be wonderful! My family has three children all who go to St. Xaviers Godavari, where the three JV’s teach. The oldest is Sujhana who is in level 9, Pouja who is in level 6, and Shrimat who is in level 3. They are absolutely fantastic children and enjoyed all the time I got to spend with them. My bua (father) is a chief inspector for the police and spends most of the week at work. My aama (mother) is a beautiful woman. She works at home and like most women that means she does everything. She speaks little English, but I still felt very connected to her. Their house is about a half hour away from school on top of a hill that overlooks a valley of rice fields. For the first few days I hung out with the kids, playing cards, games, and the girls even got me to dance. Though I now know why Nepali women are such good dancers, the girls have choreographed dances for all the songs. It is what they do for fun, and even the little ones can shake their hips. It was a lot of fun, and taught me a lot about not being self-conscious and to just have fun! Then on Friday I was able to help harvest one of the rice fields that the family owns. It was a great experience. To harvest rice you use a machete like knife to cut the stalks at the roots, then the piles of cut stalks are beating over a drum, causing the rice to fall of f onto tarps. The rice is then bagged, carried up the hill to rooftops where it is laid out. Once laid out it is re-bagged, stored or sold. This is all done by the women. I think that is why I enjoyed it so much, because I was able to bond with my aama, aunties, and Sujhana. One thing that fascinates me here, especially in the villages is the bond between women, it is more then just this idea of being in it together, it is their life. Many of their husbands work outside the valley or even home like my bua, so it is the women who run everything, and they do it together. It is such a beautiful connection that they all have, mothers to daughters, sisters to sisters, everyone. I really enjoyed being able to laugh and talk with them. Though I was fired from banging the rice, though my Nepali was not good enough to know why…. Something about a head covering or not hitting hard enough? The rest of the week was filled with good memories and experiences. It also gave me insight to how Nepali’s live. For example, Pouja, gives Pouja (the offering to gods) twice a day, for the family. They have a room that is meant just for offerings, in which they have a small alter under pictures of various gods and goddess. Within the offerings there is Ahrwati, which is the ringing of bells and lighting of incense. It is also the Nepali name my aama gave me. She also blessed me with Thika, recognizing me as her Thulo Churi, or eldest daughter. It is just nice to have a family connection here. Though, there are definite differences in lifestyles to state the obvious, but I think one of the funniest ones I experienced was the use of oil. After washing my hair at the tap, I came home, and the girls asked if I wanted to put oil in my hair. I asked what that does, and was told it is what makes their hair black. They believe that by putting oil in their hair it makes it black, so I was like sure why not, thinking maybe it’s special oil, but nope it is the same oil that we use for cooking. So there I was in the kitchen, with freshly cleaned hair, rubbing sunflower oil in my hair. I laughed to myself and stayed away from the fire. Though that night as I went to bed, I just reeked of the oil, so I open my trusty purrell poured a little in my hand and ended up with a fresh rubbing alcohol smell to my hair. It is experiences like this that remind me how far from home I am. But oil aside, it was one of the most wonderful things I have done since being in Nepal, and I am incredibly grateful to have a family like them here in Nepal.


Fields I helped harvest