It's a beautiful crisp Nepali morning. The Himalayas are out, I have a cup of real coffee, and the sun is starting to peak out, which means I am in the perfect mood for updates.
Things are going well as we come towards the middle of Term II and Dashain break. We just had Class 3 and 4 Parents Day, which is a big performance for the students to do for their parents. I taught 20 kids Irish Dancing, 15 of which are the most energetic boys I teach. It was a lot of work, and pulled hair, but the end result was worth it. They did so well! I was so happy and proud of them, but I am also glad that it is done, and we can get back into "school." With parent's day came parent's day practice which took priority over class, so for the past two weeks, I have been doing Caleen Misses Math Boot Camp, in which we have been studying and learning the basics, like addition and multiplication factors, so that there are no more counting fingers or simple mistakes on tests. But now, it will be back to fractions.
3C and I are also preparing for our class assembly which is in two weeks. The class assembly is a mini parents day which is performed for the school. My theme is Change the World, and before you roll your eyes and my idealistic theme, it is about how everyone can do their part to create change, even kids who live in Godavari, Nepal. We are singing "My Own Two Hands" by Jack Johnson and Ben Harper. Followed by a skit and ending the show with Dave Matthews "Best of What's Around." I am excited for it and I think the kids will do a really good job. I have realized through Parent's Day just how attached I am to my kids. I was running around making sure I could see all of my 3C kiddos performances. I am really lucky to have such a wonderful class, and in general to have such a great time with all of the class 3 kids.
Which brings me to my b-day. To be honest I didn’t think much of it, I have been missing home a bit with the transition and Katie and Sean leaving that it just kinda came up. I went up to Sujana’s house the night before my birthday where we had cake I brought, a delicious meal, and just a comfort I needed of home when I felt so far from it. Then in the morning, I was given pouja with my morning chiyaa and a blessing from Mummy. And went home with a smile at just how blessed I was to be spending my 23rd birthday here. And the blessings continued as I came home to house that Pat, Sarah and D had decorated, real coffee and a phone call from home. But I could never have predicted what school would bring. I walked to the lower staff room where my desk is and was meet by Aashna, the queen of 3C, and she told me to wait to come to the classroom until the bell, which I did. And as I walked to the class I heard the giggles of my students and them shhsing each other. I walked in to see my students hiding under their desks, only to jump up and shout out surprise!!!! And then give me one of the loudest renditions of Happy Birthday. I was overwhelmed as they showered me with cards and gifts. I was overcome with emotion at just how willing children are to love and to show their love. I will never forget how I blessed I felt as I opened gifts from kids who gave me their pages of stickers and drawings, or flowers. Some using their own money to buy me a trinket, and its not their gifts that touch me, it is the gesture in which they so willingly gave what they could. This continued through out the day as I walked into every class and was greeted by their own unique rendition of Happy Birthday followed by a showering of gifts and cards. It was the happiest I have felt in a long time. And it was because they just love, with out any question or hesitation. Even those who I am harder on, they love, and it was then that I realized just the gift I have been given in being a part of their lives for this next year.
The birthday continued with a wonderful dinner at my favorite restaurant in town, with Sarah, Pat, and D. Complete with our snuck in whiskey and Pepsi MU stlye. Followed the next day by going to a movie theater (!) to see a Hindi film (my guilty pleasure). All in all it was a beautiful birthday.
After my birthday came Teej. This is a festival to pray and fast for your current husband or future husband, but as I learned last year it is a day to spend with the women you love. We were able to dress in red saris for school on Monday (the day before the main Teej day) and found out at the morning assembly that there would be a program that afternoon in which the women would dance. At first I was like no way, but once we were called up onto the "stage" I just let go and enjoyed it. Our students were able to come up and join us after they realized that there were only 2 other teachers besides us JV's willing to dance. And I had a ball with my girls. They taught me their dance moves and we spent the afternoon laughing, and dancing. It was so freeing to not care what I looked like and to just have fun with them. I could not have had a more perfect Teej day then that.
We are now all looking forward to Dashain holiday. Pat, and D are heading out to trek the Annupurnas, Sarah is spending it here with her Nepali family, and I am looking forward to spending it with my dad, Sheila and two other b-day surprise guests who despite my attempts are still very much a secret to me. We currently have a pool going at the house if anyone would like in. Otherwise things are going well here. The government is the most stable it has been since arriving, we've only had one bandh in the past 2 months, and it seems like this might work. I am at peace, and looking forward to the rejuvenation that visitors and holidays bring. Hope you are all doing well, and until next time much love and peace.

Bistari Janus

While applying to JVI, I kept hearing about community, and just thought of it as the people you live with, but over the past year I have learned that it is something that becomes a part of you, and those you share it with are woven into your life forever.
Katie and Sean, were more then just the people I came home to. We worked together, ate together, explored together, and lived together in all senses of the word. Which is what makes their recent leaving so difficult, because for so long they have been all that Nepal is to me. When ever I needed something, I always could count on them from khurta shopping, to book recommendations, to life conversations, they were there. Over the past year we have shared so much of our lives together and learned from each other. It is difficult to picture what Nepal will be like, now that I can’t hop on a micro and meet Katie for some chiyaa or build a tent with Sean.
I was challenged and stretched by both of them and found a deep respect for them. They both took me in, this girl from Chicago with the Wisconsin accent, and made me feel at home in a place that was anything but. They listened to my stories, and told me theirs. We spent hours after dinner was finished and chiyaa was drunk, deep in conversation, learning and growing.
Sean was the one who taught me about the history and politics of Nepal. He made a mess seem somewhat understandable. He taught me how to ride a bike in Kathmandu, he showed me the wonders of Blue Fox, and he was always willing to go get last minute veggies for dinner. But beyond that, he listened when I needed someone to, he took my sass, and gave it back, and he cared in a place that can feel so uncaring at times.
Katie taught me my Nepali, she taught me how bargain, to make the best banana bread, to buy khurtas. But these are also just things. Beyond this, she was my support, my anchor when I felt lost. She showed me how to be a woman in Nepal, and gave me comfort when that was hard. I learned that hospitality goes both ways, and that even when you are exhausted, there is always time for chiyaa. We could talk for hours about anything, but mostly importantly we could just be.
I didn’t realize that when I left home, I would find another here. I didn’t expect that when I left my family, I would form another here. And now just like when I said goodbye at O’Hare, I find myself with that same emptiness as I said goodbye at Tribhuvan airport. But I find comfort in knowing that I carry them with me, and that just like family we will always be apart of each other.

One Year

It is hard to believe that I am actually writting this blog. When I first got to Nepal, I never thought this day would come and now that I am here, I fear that it will come again all to quickly. At times it seems like yesterday I arrived and on others it feels like I have been here a life time, and yet I still am discovering Nepal. It is hard to reflect on a year that I don't feel has happened. Was it really a year ago, that I arrived in Tribuviran Airport? For those at home it may feel like that and more, but for me, it still feels surreal at times. When I am on a micro riding up to Godavari and see the clouds along the mountains, I can't help but wonder if this is a Lord of the Rings inspired dream. When I walk into 3C laughing and running around, I can't help but wonder am I really lucky enough to spend my days with them? When I am with my family drinking chiyaa and learning Nepali, I think how am I this blessed? Or when I am in the kitchen with Pat, D, and Sarah, laughing and talking it's hard not to feel like this isn't real.
I am grateful for all that this exprience has brought me so far and I am looking forward to what I can take from it in this coming year. I have learned a lot about life and expectations in the past year. It has been an unexpected journey to be where I am today. I came to Nepal expecting to do social work with HIV/AIDS patients and students, and I am a class 1 and 3 math teacher. I came to Nepal thinking I would be living in "town" and now feel more at home in the village. I came to Nepal expecting stablitly and found my life unstable for ten months. I came to Nepal thinking I would have the same community for a year but am finding myself having to relearn what community means to me. And while this was not always easy, I am grateful.
I have thought a long time about what it would feel like to be at this point; one year. I still am not sure if I will ever fully understand all that this year has brought, but I do know that I want to continue to fall in love with this place. To be as awed by its beauty as when I first arrived. To never find something mundane, to seek out the good, even in the difficult times. I have been streached and challenged beyond what I thought I could this past year, and I want that to continue. I want to keep growing, and to let Nepal in. Into my mind, my actions and my heart. I hope that in a year from now I feel an emptiness in leaving as I did a year ago when I left home.
While at the Bangkok airport I wrote a journal entry that said "Expirience it, let Nepal in, and let whatever go that keeps you from this. Be broken." At the time I had no idea just how much this would effect my time here. I have learned that allowing yourself to let go of the past, to let go of the future and to just live in the present, allows you to be apart of life, and not just a watcher. By letting myself be broken by what I expirience, I find myself open to all that Nepal brings, both good and bad, which allows me to live and just be in Nepal. This has been a long and difficult journey that I am still on, but each day I find something else to inspire me from the Grandfathers who walk their grandsons to school every morning, to the little girl who falls asleep on my shoulder in a micro.
And while I still miss home and those I love, I know that I carry them with me wherever I go, and that this expirience is mine as it is theirs. But for now, I need to continue to grow in love, while here. I accpeted this position not knowing anything about Nepal, and now, I can't imagine not knowing it. And that is a good place to be.

Challenges

Recently I was challenged. Not by a student or community member on a belief, but what I stood for as a woman, person, and human. Coming to Nepal, I was willing to adapt to the culture as long as it didn’t compromise my core values or beliefs, and I was okay with that. I was okay with what being a foreigner and woman meant here. But, I knew that if I was challenged beyond this, to where my heart lays, I would have to stand firm.
While this sounds great and a Go You, moment, in reality, having something you are strongly committed to challenged, is more difficult then I expected. I thought that if it happened I would just react, but to be honest, I think it is easier in those moments to do nothing then to do what you know is right. It is in these moments that I have even more respect for those who fought for what they believed in, in a world that was trying to stop them. It is because of this experience that I have stopped romanticizing the idea of social justice. It is easy to hold a sign at a protest, get in arguments at a bar, or write an editorial, but when the time comes to actually do something, will you?
My answer was always “Of course!” But when the time came, I wanted nothing more then to back away, to forget that I cared about these things. So for a week I wrestled. I wrestled with the voice in my head that said “You know nothing positive will come from this, just move on.” I wrestled with the pros and cons lists I kept writing. I wrestled with what am I expected to do; as a JV, as an American in a foreign place, as a human being. And then I finally wrestled with my heart which said “How can you do nothing?” And as most discernments it was my heart that won, and so I took a stand, with trembling hands, legs, and voice, but with a strong heart and community behind me.
And while I do not think anything will come from this, I do know that even if nothing happens, it is an injustice to not do something. And I have also learned that there is more to social justice and call to action then just fancy words or talk, it is about finding something you believe in and care enough about that you are willing to risk yourself for it. And while it is never easy, if you are not willing to stand against it then you are standing for it.

Day by Day

I am often asked about what life like is here, as in day to day life. It is hard to paint a picture of what my life is here, because it is a combination of mundane daily tasks, and unexplainable, unique experiences to Nepal. For example, today I hopped on a Micro to town to do some shopping, check mail, boring things, but on the way in we hit a jam because there was a cow in the middle of the road that wouldn't move, unusual unique to Nepal situation. Although it is these type of situations that make living here the experience it is. So I will do my best to explain what my days like are here.

I live in Godavari, which is a village, and quite the difference from Ekantakuana which was the city, but I am definitely enjoying being in a village. Things are quieter, peaceful, and in general more what I was looking for when I applied to JVI. The house we live in is the old Rana summer palace, but it is not the castles of Cinderella or Harry Potter. It is an old house, with big beautiful round windows, that let in the wonderful smells of the botanical gardens behind us. We live upstairs, in three bedrooms, a kitchen, and an incredibly creepy old attic, where we hang our clothes. Downstairs, are two teachers and their families. Khagendra Sir, lives under Denise's and my room, so I am often woken up by their 10 month old son's laughter. The Buddhiraj’s live on the other side and have two children who are at SXG. Bhuddiraj Sir is a Nepali teacher so my grammar is getting better by the day, and his wife is one of my biggest comforts here. Samprada and Sambid, their children, are great and Sambid is a constant reminder of what a younger sibling would be like. The school is about a five minute walk from our house (conveniently past chiyaa stands). My family lives about 20 minutes uphill from us, which has been really good for me, to be closer to them.

Each day we get up around 6:30 and start the coffee, which means turning on the hot water for the instant stuff. Then it’s the usual morning shuffle, of eating toast, showering some days, getting dressed, and finishing school things. We head up to school around 8:15, unless we have things to do at school then a lil earlier.

Once at school, the craziness begins. I sign in at the office, crossing my fingers that I don't get handed a substitution, taking away one of my only breaks. Then I head to the lower staff room where I get everything organized at my desk, finish lesson plans, check the sari, and head out to first period. I am a class teacher this year, so I have a homeroom. My class is 3C and they are quite the characters, which I love, most days. I have my favorites as all teachers do regardless of what they say.

One is Denish. He looks like he is four, but has the personality of a hyperactive forty year old. Most days he comes up to me with “Miiiissssss , and then some story of why he didn’t do his homework, or questions about why my eyes are blue, or how he flew, anything really. Which is the exact reason why I love him. Dinesh is a kid with a good heart, who likes to make others laugh and somehow always ends up in the wrong place at the wrong time. To be honest, I would not be surprised to walk into class one day and see him sitting on the shelf; it just fits. He just loves and needs love.

All of my students our wonderful and I lucked out with the class I have. Although I have my days with them, like the time one of my students Pratik got in trouble for jumping out the window (were on the bottom floor), and I had to explain with a straight face why jumping from the window in class is not an okay way to leave, even if it is closer to the bathroom.

I also teach class 1 math and special English. Class 1 is a bit of a challenge because they don’t speak English when they start, so Special English, which is a supplementary English class is interesting; although my Nepali has really improved. The kids in class 1 are good for the most part, and I have come to have much more patience with them, which makes it easier. They also are just funny to be around because of what they do. It is not uncommon to walk into class and have kids with pants on backwards, desks turned around, and usually the class captain trying to keep order, which means hitting the kids who are running around while screaming in a mix of Nepali English “Hey, Sit now. NO Talk.” Or my favorite come to the door, see me coming and go running into the classroom screaming “ MISS IS COMING, MISS IS COOOOMMMMIIIINNNGGGG!!!.” Needless to say teaching class 1 keeps me on my toes.

I also teach all of class 3 math, which is better then I thought. My whole life I avoided any type of math, and now I teach it. But it’s good and my basic math skills are really improving. Class 3 is an interesting mix of students caught between being little adults and being little kids. I am at a unique age, where they no longer feel like little kids, but are not too cool for things yet. So while they don’t want to play duck-duck goose, they are willing to make funny sounds as their team buzzer during review games. Also, they have some of the biggest personalities around which is fun.

St. Xavier’s has 8 period days with three breaks. A ten minute break for chiyaa in-between 2nd and 3rd period, Tiffin (lunch) after 4th period and then another ten minute break between 6th and 7th. It is so the kids can run around and get some of that energy out which is good. The school has 4 main buildings for classes. My classes are under Loyola hall, which is the main auditorium, and in the upper building. They are not connected so to go from building to building you go outside, which has been great in the monsoon season. I learned the hard way to always bring an umbrella to class! Besides class buildings, there is are two staff rooms, one up where chiyaa is served near the junior and senior classes, and one where no one goes near the younger classes, I’m sure you can guess where I was put. And then there is a canteen for those students who buy lunch, a library, computer lab and Jesuit residence where staff eats a delicious lunch of Dhaal Bhaat (lentils and rice) everyday.

One of my favorite things about the school is the swimming pool, not because I like swimming so much, but because it is a round fountain that students swim in. It can hold a little over 5 ft of water and they keep the level based on which class is in the water. I think Denise said it best that when class 1 & 2 swim it is reminiscent of Titanic.

After school depending on the day, I am either doing tuition which is after-school tutoring for students who live in the village, volleyball for class 9 &10, or Social club which is Social Justice type group. Although I am attempting to make my switch to dance club.
Then I sometimes head up to my family’s house where I have chiyaa, talk, and just relax. If I don’t stay the night, I head back, usually stopping at Mangoli Misses house (one of my favorite teachers) or other students houses, making it back in time to cook dinner depending on who’s night it is. Then we have community night once a week and spirituality night once a week (with Katie and Sean). If its not one of those nights, then I usually am doing school work, reading or if it’s winter and no power sleeping.

As I said life here is pretty simple, which is good when you balance it with gender dynamics, language barriers, being foreigner and all the heavier things we deal with. I still sometimes feel like this is all a big dream, and often can’t believe how lucky I am to know those I do here and to see and experience all that I do, but it is a day by day thing, as hard and wonderful as that can be.

Going Home

Mummy and I were cooking the other day, and as she placed more wood into the mud fire pit, she asked if this is what cooking was like in America. I still struggle with how to answer these questions. But it is moments like this that make me grateful for not being able to go home. I choose JVI because of it’s emphasis on being in solidarity with those we live and work with, which is why we are asked to stay for the whole two years in country. At first this seemed a little intense, but moments like that with Mummy, explain it to me. Most Nepali’s I know or interact with can’t even picture what America is like, unless they have seen a film and even that provides a skewed vision. The idea of actually going to America is reserved for a child, usually the smartest, and even then only if they can get a scholarship or more importantly a visa. For most Nepali’s though it is nothing more then a dream. So the idea of getting on a plane, going home for a few weeks and then coming back, is something I don’t think I could do. I could not imagine coming back to Godavari and explaining my trip home, or passing through Thamel telling the kids sniffing glue that I can’t give them a rupee, but I could spend thousands on a plane ticket home. And while I don’t think that it is wrong to go home, sometimes it brings a much needed revival, or some programs are more adapt to it, I just know that personally I could not reconcile my ability to easily travel between both worlds. I already struggle enough with being white and privileged in Nepal. It is hard to be caught between these two worlds. I may wear Khurtas or saris, work in the fields, have a family, speak the language, all of this, but I am still never going to be Nepali, because at the end of the day I still come from a privileged place, I still have white skin, I still get to go home to a comfortable life when my time is up. And while this is not a bad thing, because I did not do JVI to forget who I was, it is the difficult struggle I feel, as a privileged minority that makes the idea of going home for a quick trip, seem impossible.
Everyday we are shown privilege here in Nepal. Whether it’s something minor as not being watched in a store or something as big as being able to hike to Everest base camp. We work hard as a community to understand this privilege and not abuse it. In the summers it would be great to walk around in a tank top and shorts, it would be nice to eat nice foods or have a TV. It would be easy to not have to fight for the Nepali price and just pay the foreigner price, Life in general would be easier here if we lived like a foreigner and not a JV. We could eat out, drink, travel all over the country, buy nice things, have our clothes washed, and more, but what we would lose in significant and necessary experiences and relationships is unimaginable to my time here. I wouldn’t be able to laugh with Mummy when I try to cook with her, I would miss being able to look out our beautiful cracked windows at the students as they walk to school, our community wouldn’t bond over trivia pursuit, and in general I would lose what Nepal has meant for me. And while yes I miss my family and friends, and I would love to see them, I have come to realize that strengthening the connection with my family here is what I need to do to continue the solidarity I crave with Nepal and what it means in my life. This solidarity is what I need when I finally do have to return home, and with out the support of those I love here and what they bring to my life, I don’t know if I could make that trip.

The Dali Lama and Violence

I experienced violence in Nepal for the first time. Yes, I have seen Maoist protests, I have watched police keep the peace through intimidation, but I have never actually seen physical violence used before. That Nepal is just stories or history to me. While eating lunch with Pat, I noticed that the cars on the opposite side of the street had stopped and the ones on our side where no longer coming, so I though something’s happening, assumed it was another rally we would get a good view of and kept eating my naan. And then I heard the screaming, followed by the stampeding feet. As a group of 25 young Tibetans and monks came sprinting past our window, followed closely by the police with the long thick bamboo sticks they use to beat, I realized this was something completely different. I asked what happened and the waiter said “Mukti chAhanuhuncha.” They want freedom. We watched together as the Tibetans came running back at the cops the boldest yelling “Fuck You.” Or “You are like the oppressors.” In which the cops responded with resonating bangs of the bamboo sticks. It was a horrific sight, to see the police beating women, men and monks. To actually see it happen is beyond words. I’ve watched movies, or seen news footage, but to hear the scream, the anguish and to see the pain is indescribable. After, most had fled the police headed back up to the U.N. where the altercations started, and Pat and I ate in silence. We walked out of the restaurant and started to head back home which took us right past the U.N., but cars had started moving and things seemed to be fine. As we headed up towards the U.N., we saw a group of Tibetans gathered. I said it was okay to keep going because it was just a gathering and I had walked through them before. As we walked through the signs declaring a Free Tibet, a boycott of the Olympics and a return of the Dali Lama to Tibet, I felt the passion that pulsed through them, all the way to their fingers held up in the peace sign, holding the Tibetan flag with a pride reminiscent to post 9/11 America. As we made our way I looked up to see a group of Tibetans sitting directly in front of the armed police and realized this was no ordinary gathering, this was a standoff. I turned to Pat and said “We need to get out of here.” The only way to go was over the street fence and into the line of police. As I started to climb over I began to slip and reached for the hand that reached out, and looked up to see a Tibetan teen with a Free Tibet shirt under the Tibetan flag he had draped over his shoulders. I wish I could say that I took the flag and started yelling “Free Tibet.” But I simply said “Thank you and I’m sorry” hoping these two words would convey the guilt and regret I felt for crossing the police line, into safety. As Pat and I walked on the street past the Tibetans sitting in peace and the police waiting for the armed guards we saw barreling down the street two minutes later, and the 2 U.N. peace keepers standing in their blue vest behind the police, all I could think was Holy Shit, what just happened?
As I have been reading the paper this past week and seeing stories about the incident in Lhasou or how the Chinese have placed plain clothesed police along the Nepal-Tibet border, but the piece the struck me the most was how they described the actions of the Tibetans are “against the Buddhist tenants.” While Buddhism is anti-violence, as a human race we should be anti-human dignity abuse. For years the Tibetans have been oppressed and abused, I teach students who are orphaned refugees because of the conflict, we live near one of the larger Tibetan refugee camps in Kathmandu I have seen how people are trying to forget about Tibet. Schoolbooks no longer list Tibet as our bordering country, people believe “Free Tibet” is a cool sticker for their Nalgenes, but they are forgetting this isn’t just a for discussion in coffee houses or classrooms, this is life for so many people.
I was also struck by how people feel the Dali Lama is not doing enough to stop or condemn the violence. But how to stop a fire that has been burning for years, how to calm people who are losing their culture? What if Mexico came in and took over? Forcing us to lose our “American culture.” How to stop that anger? While I will not pretend to know everything or even a little about the Tibetan conflict, what I do know is that there is more pain then anger. To be forced from your home and not allowed back, to not be able to show your children where they are from, to be in permanent exile from your home, it does more then anger, it breaks the spirit. So as you read about all that is happening and see the news casts, remember this is more then just a protest, for some people this is very much about life, and their right to live.