More details from our trek:
So even though we were discouraged by the landslide and had to end our trek early, things got a little better on our way back. We had passed a waterfall on our way to Ghandruk, and on our return we decided to stop and take a few pictures. We kept trying to get closer and closer to the waterfall to get better pictures, and finally Hannah and I climbed up on some rocks right next to it and discussed how cool it would be to go underneath it. And then we decided that, hey, how often do you get the chance to go under a waterfall? So we threw our shoes, cameras, and sunglasses down to Chris, and then just went for it. The water was more powerful than I’d expected, and we weren’t even under the bulk of it. And it was very cold, and the rocks were very slippery. Then, before we knew it, Chris had followed us in--we knew he wouldn’t be able to stand by and watch. (If you read his account of the event, don’t be fooled by his self-portrayal as the voice of reason.) It was super cool, and I felt pretty adventurous.
We dripped all the way back to the village, where we found a nice place to stay overlooking the river. After dinner we sat on the porch and talked and played cards while we listened to the rainstorm around us. At one point the power went out, as it frequently does when it rains, and we were left in the pitch black. I’d never been anywhere so dark before. We worried about how we would find our way back to our rooms if the power didn’t come back on, but, thankfully, one of the owners came out with some candles, matches, and umbrellas for us.
The next morning we left early so we could get back to Pokhara in time to accompany 5 of the kids to the radio station. A local man has some of the Sam’s House kids on his radio show once in a while to tell about themselves, sing songs, and tell jokes. So Chris, Hannah, Dinesh, and I went with Amrit, Sarita, Sabita, Mamata, and Pratima. The kids did a great job--some were shyer than others, but they were all cute, and they all made us very proud. Maybe this will inspire one of them to pursue a future career in radio!
The next day, Saturday, brought the kids’ weekly dance lesson. This week the kids learned a new dance, and Hannah and I tried to follow along, but I’m no dancer. The kids put me to shame. I had fun, though, and loved when the kids tried (hopelessly) to help me learn. Then the three of us headed to Dinesh and Rekha’s house for a final wonderful dinner and then headed to Lakeside for our last hotel stay. We visited our favorite Pokhara bar, Club Amsterdam, listened to our favorite Nepali band (playing surprisingly accurate covers of American songs), and played cards (a game called Blackjack--not the 21 kind, but something like Uno--that seemed to have too many illogical rules for me to understand it) with some British guys that we met there. A good time, for sure.
The next morning Hannah and I took a yoga class while Chris went back to the house to pick up the didis and bring them to Lakeside for lunch, which we all enjoyed. Then that evening we got our official farewell celebration from Sam’s House, complete with cake and beautiful drawings that the kids had been working on all afternoon.
Chris made a DVD slideshow of pictures from the summer to leave at the house that we watched that final night. We sat in the TV room, with kids piled on our laps and holding our hands and wrapped around our arms--kids we’d met for the first time only 4 short weeks ago--and watched the progression of our time at Sam’s House. It was a wonderful way to spend our last night, and it meant a lot to me. Then we tucked the kids into bed one last time, giving extra (and, in my case, tearful) hugs and kisses.
Finally, the day we had been dreading was here. We spent the morning doing some final packing, taking final pictures, and playing final handclapping games as we waited to walk the kids to the bus stop one last time. It was raining, which seemed fitting for the day’s somber mood. We gave them our last big hugs, the bus arrived, and suddenly they were gone. We went back to the house and ate some daal bhaat (the didis would never let us leave hungry), received tika (a blessing) from Amma and Ranjeet (the landlords upstairs) and the didis, and said our final namaste (goodbye) and dhanyabaad (thanks). Then we left for the airport and said farewell to Pokhara.
25 July 2008
14 July 2008
Stateside again
I’m home in North Dakota, safe and sound. I arrived in Dickinson last Thursday, the 3rd, to a welcoming committee of my parents, my brother Russ and his wife Cassi, and three of their four kids. It was actually my second 3rd of July, after crossing the International Date Line. After leaving Pokhara and Sam’s House on Monday morning, Chris, Hannah, and I spent that evening and all day Tuesday in Kathmandu before leaving Nepal on Wednesday. We then flew from Kathmandu to Bangkok, spent the evening in Bangkok, took an early morning flight to Tokyo, and then had our 9-hour flight to Los Angeles. In LA, after 5 weeks of traveling together, the three of us parted ways. Jennifer’s brother and sister-in-law graciously housed Hannah for the night before her flight back to Ohio the next day, Chris (accompanied by Jennifer, who had flown to LA to surprise him!) went back to Minnesota, and I rushed to catch my flight to Denver (also with help from Jennifer’s brother and sister-in-law, who drove me to my gate) and then Dickinson.
It was a pretty busy final week in Pokhara, so I didn’t get a chance to update my blog like I should have. The three of us had planned on going on a 2-day trek to Ghandruk, a nearby village, beginning early Monday morning our last week at Sam’s House. However, our plans changed when we learned that all of the taxi drivers (or “transport entrepreneurs,” as the Kathmandu Post calls them) in Nepal were going on strike to persuade the government to raise taxi fares in response to rising gas prices. In order to begin our trek, we needed to take a taxi to Nayapul, 45 minutes away from Pokhara. We were grounded. I had been feeling a little under the weather, so I was a somewhat glad for the delay, but still bummed. School bus drivers were also participating in the strike, so school ended up being canceled, which was great because it was another day we got to hang out with the kids. We taught them Pictionary, a game that seemed to be a hit with kids and didis alike. Later that day, Chris, Hannah, and I walked to Mahendrapul, the shopping district of Pokhara, mostly to just get out of the house for a while and take our mind off of trekking. We went to bed that night praying that the strike would end so we could begin our trek, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. We spent much of the next day kind of moping around the house, since the kids had school again and I think we were all a little depressed about our foiled plans. We did use our free time to give the didis a tiny break and make kajaa (afternoon snack) for the kids. We served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pudding snack packs—American staples. They seemed to get mostly positive reactions, and a few kids even asked for seconds. The next day was our last chance to go trekking because we wanted to get back before Friday afternoon (a few of the kids were going to be on the radio and we wanted to listen—more about that later), so again we went to bed hoping for good news the next morning. Sure enough, as soon as Hannah and I woke up on Wednesday, Chris informed us that the taxi strike had ended and we were going to leave for our trek around 9:00 am. Hooray!
We were all excited to go trekking, although it seemed to us that our day was cursed from the start. Because of the strike, taxis hadn’t been able to get gas, so our taxi driver was stuck in a petrol line and was going to be about a half hour late. We were anxious to get on the road because we wanted to get as much walking in as possible before the daily afternoon rain. We needed to get trekking permits before we could begin, so, of course, we went to the wrong office at first and were directed to a different one on the other side of town. We finally got to Nayapul (much later than we’d hoped) and began walking and Chris’s walking stick broke, so we had to pause to buy tape to fix it. And then came the rain. It began to pour somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon, so we admitted defeat, found a cute little lodge and restaurant, changed into dry clothes, and ate a nice dinner while listening to the rain.
The next day was bright and sunny, and soon after we began walking we met a couple coming toward us. They asked if we were going to Ghandruk, and we replied yes, we are. They chuckled a little (making us a little uneasy) and then the man explained that we may run into some trouble because there was a bad landslide up ahead, but with some help from the locals, we would probably be able to cross it. We got a little worried, but figured we could handle whatever came our way. We could see the landslide well before we got close to it, which should indicate just how large it was—I don’t think any of us were prepared for how big it was. Some local residents led us up to it. It was basically a big, muddy dropoff that led to a big, muddy, rocky, rushing river that we needed to cross in order to continue on our way to Ghandruk. I was skeptical. We decided to at least go down close to the water to assess the situation and figure out just how brave we were feeling (answer: not very). We shimmied our way down the steep hill as gracefully as we could, considering it was made up of very loose rocks and dirt that tumbled along with us. We stood around for quite a while, trying to pick out a stable path to cross the water, but it was rushing so quickly that the landscape seemed to change every time we looked away. A little crowd of locals assembled, watching us eagerly to see just what these crazy Americans were going to do. A couple of Nepali men offered to lead us across, and we got all ready to go. We packed away our cameras, rolled down our pant legs (to protect against leeches, which Chris assured us we would get. Eeek.), changed into flip-flops, and planned which rocks and sandbars we would use in our route across the water. And then stood around some more while we thought carefully about our decision to cross. Our concern was that, because the water was rushing so quickly and literally changing the land before our eyes, although we may have been able to cross at the time, what if the next day we wouldn’t be able to cross back? And if it rained heavily that night, the water would have been even higher, complicating things even more. Eventually, reason prevailed. We dejectedly admitted defeat and decided to turn around. To add insult to injury, in the short time we had been by the water the bank had gotten much muddier and on the way back up, my foot got stuck up to mid-calf (it was like quicksand—I actually had a sort of panicky moment when I thought I was going to be stuck for good) and my flip-flop was swallowed up, never to be seen again, except maybe in an archeological dig hundreds of years from now.
I’m going to pause here, because I’m tired of writing and no one really wants to read a 14-page blog post anyway, but I promise to continue soon.
It was a pretty busy final week in Pokhara, so I didn’t get a chance to update my blog like I should have. The three of us had planned on going on a 2-day trek to Ghandruk, a nearby village, beginning early Monday morning our last week at Sam’s House. However, our plans changed when we learned that all of the taxi drivers (or “transport entrepreneurs,” as the Kathmandu Post calls them) in Nepal were going on strike to persuade the government to raise taxi fares in response to rising gas prices. In order to begin our trek, we needed to take a taxi to Nayapul, 45 minutes away from Pokhara. We were grounded. I had been feeling a little under the weather, so I was a somewhat glad for the delay, but still bummed. School bus drivers were also participating in the strike, so school ended up being canceled, which was great because it was another day we got to hang out with the kids. We taught them Pictionary, a game that seemed to be a hit with kids and didis alike. Later that day, Chris, Hannah, and I walked to Mahendrapul, the shopping district of Pokhara, mostly to just get out of the house for a while and take our mind off of trekking. We went to bed that night praying that the strike would end so we could begin our trek, but sadly, that wasn’t the case. We spent much of the next day kind of moping around the house, since the kids had school again and I think we were all a little depressed about our foiled plans. We did use our free time to give the didis a tiny break and make kajaa (afternoon snack) for the kids. We served peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and pudding snack packs—American staples. They seemed to get mostly positive reactions, and a few kids even asked for seconds. The next day was our last chance to go trekking because we wanted to get back before Friday afternoon (a few of the kids were going to be on the radio and we wanted to listen—more about that later), so again we went to bed hoping for good news the next morning. Sure enough, as soon as Hannah and I woke up on Wednesday, Chris informed us that the taxi strike had ended and we were going to leave for our trek around 9:00 am. Hooray!
We were all excited to go trekking, although it seemed to us that our day was cursed from the start. Because of the strike, taxis hadn’t been able to get gas, so our taxi driver was stuck in a petrol line and was going to be about a half hour late. We were anxious to get on the road because we wanted to get as much walking in as possible before the daily afternoon rain. We needed to get trekking permits before we could begin, so, of course, we went to the wrong office at first and were directed to a different one on the other side of town. We finally got to Nayapul (much later than we’d hoped) and began walking and Chris’s walking stick broke, so we had to pause to buy tape to fix it. And then came the rain. It began to pour somewhere between 2:00 and 3:00 in the afternoon, so we admitted defeat, found a cute little lodge and restaurant, changed into dry clothes, and ate a nice dinner while listening to the rain.
The next day was bright and sunny, and soon after we began walking we met a couple coming toward us. They asked if we were going to Ghandruk, and we replied yes, we are. They chuckled a little (making us a little uneasy) and then the man explained that we may run into some trouble because there was a bad landslide up ahead, but with some help from the locals, we would probably be able to cross it. We got a little worried, but figured we could handle whatever came our way. We could see the landslide well before we got close to it, which should indicate just how large it was—I don’t think any of us were prepared for how big it was. Some local residents led us up to it. It was basically a big, muddy dropoff that led to a big, muddy, rocky, rushing river that we needed to cross in order to continue on our way to Ghandruk. I was skeptical. We decided to at least go down close to the water to assess the situation and figure out just how brave we were feeling (answer: not very). We shimmied our way down the steep hill as gracefully as we could, considering it was made up of very loose rocks and dirt that tumbled along with us. We stood around for quite a while, trying to pick out a stable path to cross the water, but it was rushing so quickly that the landscape seemed to change every time we looked away. A little crowd of locals assembled, watching us eagerly to see just what these crazy Americans were going to do. A couple of Nepali men offered to lead us across, and we got all ready to go. We packed away our cameras, rolled down our pant legs (to protect against leeches, which Chris assured us we would get. Eeek.), changed into flip-flops, and planned which rocks and sandbars we would use in our route across the water. And then stood around some more while we thought carefully about our decision to cross. Our concern was that, because the water was rushing so quickly and literally changing the land before our eyes, although we may have been able to cross at the time, what if the next day we wouldn’t be able to cross back? And if it rained heavily that night, the water would have been even higher, complicating things even more. Eventually, reason prevailed. We dejectedly admitted defeat and decided to turn around. To add insult to injury, in the short time we had been by the water the bank had gotten much muddier and on the way back up, my foot got stuck up to mid-calf (it was like quicksand—I actually had a sort of panicky moment when I thought I was going to be stuck for good) and my flip-flop was swallowed up, never to be seen again, except maybe in an archeological dig hundreds of years from now.
I’m going to pause here, because I’m tired of writing and no one really wants to read a 14-page blog post anyway, but I promise to continue soon.
20 June 2008
"Danger" and Lumle
Chris, Hannah, and I haven’t done much sightseeing these past few days because the Sam’s House kids didn’t have school on Wednesday or Thursday, so we stayed home to play with them. We played outside a lot, and then on Wednesday afternoon we took them out to a Nepali movie. It was an action film (the title is the Nepali word for danger), but most Nepali films seem to follow a fairly similar plotline, regardless of genre. Even though it was in Nepali, we English-speakers didn’t have much difficulty following the action. My favorite part of any Nepali film is the moment when either the hero or heroine realizes they are in love, and then follows a dream sequence song and dance number featuring the couple. Mina and Maya, two of the older girls, are particularly good at reenacting film scenes, so I hope I’ll get to see their rendition sometime soon.
I caught some kind of stomach bug on Wednesday evening, as Chris assured me I would at some point, but am now feeling much better. We also had some frustration with our travel plans because one of our return flights got canceled, but with some help from Jennifer didi (Chris’s wife, another Sam’s House trustee, and my former academic advisor at UMM) back in the States, we got things straightened out. We seem to be at the point of our trip where the novelty of being in a new culture is beginning to wear off a bit, and now we’ve settled into being in Nepal and at Sam’s House. Not necessarily a bad thing, but just an inevitable part of traveling.
On Tuesday the three of us, along with Dinesh and Manju, one of the Sam’s House children, visited Lumle, the village where Manju lived prior to coming to Sam’s House. I was excited to see what a rural village is like, since we’ve spent all our time so far in the city. After a 30-minute hilly and winding taxi ride, we arrived in Lumle. As soon as we got out of the vehicle and Manju recognized where we were, she took off without us knowing where she went. The village is on a hillside and the houses are all surrounded by tall corn and other crops, so it was a little hard for us to get around. I was even a little worried (and probably irrationally so) that we weren’t going to find Manju, or that she thought we were bringing her back for good, or who knows what else. She’s a very quiet kid, and she doesn’t speak much English, so sometimes I worry about how she’s doing or what she’s thinking. Of course, we eventually found her at her cousins’ house. Manju came to live at Sam’s House because, for whatever reason, her parents were unable to care for her and she then lived with her elderly grandmother. Her grandmother is very old and frail, and she knew that she was not going to be able to take care of Manju forever, so she decided to send her to live at Sam’s House. Manju’s relatives said that her grandmother was out working in the fields, and they sent someone to go and get her so she could see her granddaughter. We drank some chiyaa and waited. Suddenly Manju’s grandmother arrived. She’s probably in her 60s, but she looks like she could easily be about 90—-Nepali farmers live a very tough life. The look on her face was so, so touching. She was so happy to see Manju. She came to Sam’s House to visit Manju a year and a half ago, but hadn’t seen her since then. There wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Her grandmother insisted that we come back to her house and sit, and she kept telling us thank you, over and over. She was just so grateful. She fixed Manju a plate of rice—-every grandmother in the world wants to make sure her grandchildren are well-fed—-and then brought the rest of us a glass of the most revolting milk I’d ever drank in my life. It came fresh from the cow, tepid, with a little dirt and grass mixed in for flavor. Of course, we couldn’t refuse, and I was touched that she would offer us something as valuable as milk to drink. We listened to her tell us about how Manju used to take care of her, and how she gets lonely now without her. It is amazing to me how she knew that Manju was much better off at Sam’s House, though—-this is just the way things have to be. I can’t think of a more unselfish action than giving up your child (or grandchild) to give them a better life. Manju’s grandmother lives in a tiny, one-room house with corrugated tin walls. The entire house is about as large as an American bathroom or walk-in closet. I’m sure that it was extremely difficult for her grandmother to earn enough money from farming to support both herself and Manju. After we sat and talked for a few minutes, it was time for us to leave, which was heartbreaking. A bus ticket into Pokhara to visit Sam’s House would probably only cost a few U.S. dollars, but it would be a huge amount of money to a rural Nepali like Manju’s grandmother.
Throughout the trip Chris has been telling Hannah and me stories about the circumstances from which many of the Sam’s House kids came, but seeing how happy and well-adjusted they are now, it’s almost hard for me to believe him. Our trip to Lumle was a good reminder of just how far the kids have come, and just how necessary orphanages like Sam’s House are.
I caught some kind of stomach bug on Wednesday evening, as Chris assured me I would at some point, but am now feeling much better. We also had some frustration with our travel plans because one of our return flights got canceled, but with some help from Jennifer didi (Chris’s wife, another Sam’s House trustee, and my former academic advisor at UMM) back in the States, we got things straightened out. We seem to be at the point of our trip where the novelty of being in a new culture is beginning to wear off a bit, and now we’ve settled into being in Nepal and at Sam’s House. Not necessarily a bad thing, but just an inevitable part of traveling.
On Tuesday the three of us, along with Dinesh and Manju, one of the Sam’s House children, visited Lumle, the village where Manju lived prior to coming to Sam’s House. I was excited to see what a rural village is like, since we’ve spent all our time so far in the city. After a 30-minute hilly and winding taxi ride, we arrived in Lumle. As soon as we got out of the vehicle and Manju recognized where we were, she took off without us knowing where she went. The village is on a hillside and the houses are all surrounded by tall corn and other crops, so it was a little hard for us to get around. I was even a little worried (and probably irrationally so) that we weren’t going to find Manju, or that she thought we were bringing her back for good, or who knows what else. She’s a very quiet kid, and she doesn’t speak much English, so sometimes I worry about how she’s doing or what she’s thinking. Of course, we eventually found her at her cousins’ house. Manju came to live at Sam’s House because, for whatever reason, her parents were unable to care for her and she then lived with her elderly grandmother. Her grandmother is very old and frail, and she knew that she was not going to be able to take care of Manju forever, so she decided to send her to live at Sam’s House. Manju’s relatives said that her grandmother was out working in the fields, and they sent someone to go and get her so she could see her granddaughter. We drank some chiyaa and waited. Suddenly Manju’s grandmother arrived. She’s probably in her 60s, but she looks like she could easily be about 90—-Nepali farmers live a very tough life. The look on her face was so, so touching. She was so happy to see Manju. She came to Sam’s House to visit Manju a year and a half ago, but hadn’t seen her since then. There wasn’t a dry eye to be found. Her grandmother insisted that we come back to her house and sit, and she kept telling us thank you, over and over. She was just so grateful. She fixed Manju a plate of rice—-every grandmother in the world wants to make sure her grandchildren are well-fed—-and then brought the rest of us a glass of the most revolting milk I’d ever drank in my life. It came fresh from the cow, tepid, with a little dirt and grass mixed in for flavor. Of course, we couldn’t refuse, and I was touched that she would offer us something as valuable as milk to drink. We listened to her tell us about how Manju used to take care of her, and how she gets lonely now without her. It is amazing to me how she knew that Manju was much better off at Sam’s House, though—-this is just the way things have to be. I can’t think of a more unselfish action than giving up your child (or grandchild) to give them a better life. Manju’s grandmother lives in a tiny, one-room house with corrugated tin walls. The entire house is about as large as an American bathroom or walk-in closet. I’m sure that it was extremely difficult for her grandmother to earn enough money from farming to support both herself and Manju. After we sat and talked for a few minutes, it was time for us to leave, which was heartbreaking. A bus ticket into Pokhara to visit Sam’s House would probably only cost a few U.S. dollars, but it would be a huge amount of money to a rural Nepali like Manju’s grandmother.
Throughout the trip Chris has been telling Hannah and me stories about the circumstances from which many of the Sam’s House kids came, but seeing how happy and well-adjusted they are now, it’s almost hard for me to believe him. Our trip to Lumle was a good reminder of just how far the kids have come, and just how necessary orphanages like Sam’s House are.
16 June 2008
PARAGLIDING!
Finally, after two and a half weeks of waiting, Hannah, Chris, and I went paragliding this morning. We made our appointment on one of our first days in Pokhara, but rain forced us to postpone. Then every time we tried to reschedule, it ended up being either rainy or cloudy. Because we are approaching monsoon season, it rains most nights and usually for a little while during the day. When we saw it was sunny this morning, we quickly called the paragliding company and they said we could try to go today, as long as the weather stayed nice. We hurried to their office, climbed in the back of a truck, picked up the pilots on the way, and drove for 30 minutes up to Sarangkot, a village way on top of a big hill. When we got to the top, the pilots laid out their parachutes and Hannah and I got harnessed up (there were only two pilots, so Hannah and I went first and Chris went after we landed). We got instructions on how to take off—-start walking when the pilot tells you to walk, then start running when he tells you to run, and don’t sit or jump—-and then, before we knew it, Hannah and her pilot were launching. I waited for another anxious 15 minutes before we got a good wind and Anil, my pilot, said it was our turn to go. And then we ran off the top of the hill and were in the air, just like that, flying over Pokhara. It was amazing. We could see monkeys playing in the trees below, and farmers doing their daily chores, and kids playing outside, and cows grazing, and we just soared above it all. I asked Anil if he could do some stunts, and when we climbed high enough he did a “wingover,” which I don’t really know how to describe but involved sort of swooping back and forth quickly, in a stomach-turning, roller coaster-y sort of way. Waaaay fun. And then it was time for us to land. I was supposed to start running when we got close to the ground, but, of course, in my non-graceful sort of way, we basically just hit the ground and stopped. Hannah got the whole landing on film. Then the pilots went back to the top and we waited for Chris to fly down and join us. Paragliding is definitely one of the coolest things I’ve ever done, and I think Hannah and Chris would agree.
13 June 2008
long overdue
I didn’t realize it’s been so long since I updated. Hannah and I started volunteering at the kids’ school this week, so I’ve been busier than usual. Where to begin…
Hannah and I got kurta surwaals made for us this week. We brought Asuna, one of the didis, along with us for help. Hannah got a blue iridescent kurta (top) with a pink surwaal (pants) and pink scarf, and my outfit was all dark pink. After we picked them up from the tailor we immediately tried them on for the didis, who, of course, were delighted. We both wore our new purchases to school yesterday. All the women teachers wear kurtas, so it was nice to feel like I fit in.
Chris, Hannah, and I also made jello (or “jelly,” as it’s called here) for the kids as a special treat. They loved it. I could barely make myself swallow it. Nepali jello does NOT taste like American jello.
Earlier this week the 3 of us climbed to the top of a huge hill, where there was a tower overlooking Pokhara. It was a tough climb (for me, at least—I’m by far the least athletic of the bunch) but the view was worth it. I felt even more out of shape when we encountered 3 kids about halfway up. We had gotten off the path a little, so Chris asked them for directions and they steered us right. The 2 girls had huge baskets on their backs and looked like they were on their way to cut grass and collect it in the baskets. I felt especially ridiculous when they effortlessly bounded up the hill in their flip flops and we were breathless and unsteady in tennis shoes and Keens.
The biggest event of the week was volunteering at the Gorkha English Boarding School. On Tuesday Hannah and I got on the school bus with the Sam’s House kids and went to school to teach English conversation skills. Neither one of us knew quite what to expect, but I think we both did a pretty decent job of thinking on our feet. I played a lot of Hangman and answered a lot of questions about myself. Some of the older kids were incredibly shy and somewhat unresponsive, and I don’t think I was fully prepared for that. I’m so used to the Sam’s House kids, who jumped all over Hannah and me the very first time they saw us. And I was also a little frustrated with myself, for being less prepared than I should have been. Thursday, however, was a much better day. I came to class with a human scavenger hunt game, where the kids asked each other questions (in English) to find classmates that fulfilled items on a list of requirements (for example, find someone who has traveled to a foreign country, find someone with their shirt untucked, etc.). I think they enjoyed it, and at the very least, it encouraged them to talk to their classmates in English for a little while. Some highlights of the day: The 6th graders sang “All the Small Things” and “Wake Me Up When September Ends” for me—hilarious. One of the 3rd graders painted me a picture of some kind of purple animal. I got a lot of “Are you married?” and “Do you have a boyfriend?” On Tuesday the 7th graders asked me to watch their after-school piano lesson, and they played a Nepali song. I’ll teach again for the last time this coming Tuesday, before the school days are taken up by midterm exams.
Hannah and I also were asked to help coach volleyball practice yesterday and today (at 6:30 am. Eeek.). Poor Hannah—she plays soccer at Yale, and would love to help coach soccer practice, but Nepalis don’t seem to be used to women playing competitive football. She did a great job of pretending that she plays volleyball, though. I tried to help the girls with hitting, blocking, their rotation, and their defense. They’re great at the fundamentals but struggle a little in a scrimmage situation, so we worked on that a little. I had a blast. My favorite part of each practice was the chiyaa break—what tastes best after a hard workout? A steaming cup of tea and milk, of course.
Chris, Hannah, and I are getting some internet time in Lakeside this afternoon, and we are all anxiously awaiting tomorrow, the kids’ day off from school, so we can spend a little more time with them. I can’t believe this is the end of our second week at Sam’s House—time is flying by!
Chris uploaded 8 new pictures today, so make sure you check out his blog, too.
Hannah and I got kurta surwaals made for us this week. We brought Asuna, one of the didis, along with us for help. Hannah got a blue iridescent kurta (top) with a pink surwaal (pants) and pink scarf, and my outfit was all dark pink. After we picked them up from the tailor we immediately tried them on for the didis, who, of course, were delighted. We both wore our new purchases to school yesterday. All the women teachers wear kurtas, so it was nice to feel like I fit in.
Chris, Hannah, and I also made jello (or “jelly,” as it’s called here) for the kids as a special treat. They loved it. I could barely make myself swallow it. Nepali jello does NOT taste like American jello.
Earlier this week the 3 of us climbed to the top of a huge hill, where there was a tower overlooking Pokhara. It was a tough climb (for me, at least—I’m by far the least athletic of the bunch) but the view was worth it. I felt even more out of shape when we encountered 3 kids about halfway up. We had gotten off the path a little, so Chris asked them for directions and they steered us right. The 2 girls had huge baskets on their backs and looked like they were on their way to cut grass and collect it in the baskets. I felt especially ridiculous when they effortlessly bounded up the hill in their flip flops and we were breathless and unsteady in tennis shoes and Keens.
The biggest event of the week was volunteering at the Gorkha English Boarding School. On Tuesday Hannah and I got on the school bus with the Sam’s House kids and went to school to teach English conversation skills. Neither one of us knew quite what to expect, but I think we both did a pretty decent job of thinking on our feet. I played a lot of Hangman and answered a lot of questions about myself. Some of the older kids were incredibly shy and somewhat unresponsive, and I don’t think I was fully prepared for that. I’m so used to the Sam’s House kids, who jumped all over Hannah and me the very first time they saw us. And I was also a little frustrated with myself, for being less prepared than I should have been. Thursday, however, was a much better day. I came to class with a human scavenger hunt game, where the kids asked each other questions (in English) to find classmates that fulfilled items on a list of requirements (for example, find someone who has traveled to a foreign country, find someone with their shirt untucked, etc.). I think they enjoyed it, and at the very least, it encouraged them to talk to their classmates in English for a little while. Some highlights of the day: The 6th graders sang “All the Small Things” and “Wake Me Up When September Ends” for me—hilarious. One of the 3rd graders painted me a picture of some kind of purple animal. I got a lot of “Are you married?” and “Do you have a boyfriend?” On Tuesday the 7th graders asked me to watch their after-school piano lesson, and they played a Nepali song. I’ll teach again for the last time this coming Tuesday, before the school days are taken up by midterm exams.
Hannah and I also were asked to help coach volleyball practice yesterday and today (at 6:30 am. Eeek.). Poor Hannah—she plays soccer at Yale, and would love to help coach soccer practice, but Nepalis don’t seem to be used to women playing competitive football. She did a great job of pretending that she plays volleyball, though. I tried to help the girls with hitting, blocking, their rotation, and their defense. They’re great at the fundamentals but struggle a little in a scrimmage situation, so we worked on that a little. I had a blast. My favorite part of each practice was the chiyaa break—what tastes best after a hard workout? A steaming cup of tea and milk, of course.
Chris, Hannah, and I are getting some internet time in Lakeside this afternoon, and we are all anxiously awaiting tomorrow, the kids’ day off from school, so we can spend a little more time with them. I can’t believe this is the end of our second week at Sam’s House—time is flying by!
Chris uploaded 8 new pictures today, so make sure you check out his blog, too.
07 June 2008
Saturday fun
This morning as I was having morning chiyaa and biscuits, Asuna (one of the didis) came up to me, pointed to the tika on her forehead, and said, “You like?” Tika is red vermillion powder placed on the forehead as a blessing or as decoration, and the didis wear it almost daily. I said yes, and she put one on my forehead too. It was very sweet--I guess we’re BFFs now.
It was kind of rainy this morning, and the kids got one of their twice-weekly baths this morning, so we decided to play inside to stay clean and dry. (These kids are tough. They shower outside with cold water and get soaped up by the didis in a somewhat assembly line fashion. What do they do in the winter?) Chris had brought a friendship bracelet kit along from the U.S., so we spent the better part of the morning making bracelets. Then this afternoon everyone piled in a van and a taxi and went to Lakeside for ice cream. The kids put on all their best clothes, including new shirts that Hannah brought, and even the didis got all dolled up in their best kurtas. (Most Nepali women wear kurta surwaals, which are long tops, loose fitting pants, and a scarf, in pretty much every color and pattern you can imagine. To get one, you go to a tailor and pick out the fabric you want and then get one made especially for you, which Hannah and I plan to do. How often do you get the chance to get clothes made just for you?) The kids were pumped. They sang songs on the way to Lakeside (except for Amrit, who sat grumpily with his hands over his ears), including Jingle Bells, the only one in English. Everyone had a great time.
At 3:00 the kids’ dance teacher came to the house. Hannah and I warmed up along with them, and then watched some of the older girls do a traditional Nepali dance (I think). They are very good dancers. I am not.
Tonight Chris, Hannah and I are staying in a hotel in Lakeside. When Chris suggested a weekly hotel stay, I didn’t particularly care either way, but now that we are here, I’m glad. Our lives at Sam’s House aren’t particularly busy or stressful, but it will still be nice to just relax a little. Peace and quiet seem to be precious commodities in that house.
Make sure you check out Chris's blog as well. He has much better luck posting pictures than I do (maybe he's just more patient...) and is uploading some as we speak.
It was kind of rainy this morning, and the kids got one of their twice-weekly baths this morning, so we decided to play inside to stay clean and dry. (These kids are tough. They shower outside with cold water and get soaped up by the didis in a somewhat assembly line fashion. What do they do in the winter?) Chris had brought a friendship bracelet kit along from the U.S., so we spent the better part of the morning making bracelets. Then this afternoon everyone piled in a van and a taxi and went to Lakeside for ice cream. The kids put on all their best clothes, including new shirts that Hannah brought, and even the didis got all dolled up in their best kurtas. (Most Nepali women wear kurta surwaals, which are long tops, loose fitting pants, and a scarf, in pretty much every color and pattern you can imagine. To get one, you go to a tailor and pick out the fabric you want and then get one made especially for you, which Hannah and I plan to do. How often do you get the chance to get clothes made just for you?) The kids were pumped. They sang songs on the way to Lakeside (except for Amrit, who sat grumpily with his hands over his ears), including Jingle Bells, the only one in English. Everyone had a great time.
At 3:00 the kids’ dance teacher came to the house. Hannah and I warmed up along with them, and then watched some of the older girls do a traditional Nepali dance (I think). They are very good dancers. I am not.
Tonight Chris, Hannah and I are staying in a hotel in Lakeside. When Chris suggested a weekly hotel stay, I didn’t particularly care either way, but now that we are here, I’m glad. Our lives at Sam’s House aren’t particularly busy or stressful, but it will still be nice to just relax a little. Peace and quiet seem to be precious commodities in that house.
Make sure you check out Chris's blog as well. He has much better luck posting pictures than I do (maybe he's just more patient...) and is uploading some as we speak.
06 June 2008
Mmmmmm.
I’m too full to sleep so I thought I’d do some blogging yet tonight. Chris, Hannah, and I ate dinner at Dinesh and Rekha’s house, and it was so, so good. Of course I like the didis’ daal bhaat, but this was just amazing. Snacks to start—fried rice puff things, peanut masala, vegetables—and then rice flavored with dates and fresh coconut, chicken, zucchini curry, some bean dish that was great, spicy mango chutney, and cheesecake to finish. I rolled out of their house. Sadly, Chris informs me that even if I stumble upon the rare Nepali restaurant in the U.S., it will never taste the same as the food here.
Yesterday during our afternoon snack, I wanted another cup of chiyaa (sweet tea with milk), so I asked the didis if I could make it and they showed me how. I think I did all right, if I say so myself. Today was laundry day, so I got my first taste of laundry, Nepali style. It involves a lot of swishing, soaking, and scrubbing your clothes on the cement with a bar of soap and a brush. This definitely isn’t the country to wear a shirt for 5 minutes and throw it in the wash—you make sure your clothes are good and dirty before you put the effort into washing them. The didis have also been letting Hannah and me help with more of the chores, like dishes and the kids’ laundry, although I still feel like I’m not doing enough. I feel a little guilty when I’m outside playing football (or soccer, for the Americans reading this) with them and the didis are inside cooking.
Today Chris, Hannah, and I visited a Tibetan refugee camp. After China took control of Tibet, many Tibetans fled to Nepal until Nepal stopped accepting the refugees. Now, they live very poorly and often rely on tourists for their income. We’ll go back another day to watch the Buddhist monks say their daily prayers—we were too early today.
Tomorrow is the kids’ day off from school. They shower in the morning, and then around noon we will all go to the Lakeside district of Pokhara—the tourist area—for ice cream. From 3:00 to 5:00 a dance teacher comes to the house, so I’m pumped to learn along with them. Then tomorrow night Chris and Hannah and I will stay in a hotel in Lakeside, just to satisfy our spoiled American selves and eat something other than daal bhaat for dinner (although, surprisingly, I’m not sick of the food. Yet.).
Yesterday during our afternoon snack, I wanted another cup of chiyaa (sweet tea with milk), so I asked the didis if I could make it and they showed me how. I think I did all right, if I say so myself. Today was laundry day, so I got my first taste of laundry, Nepali style. It involves a lot of swishing, soaking, and scrubbing your clothes on the cement with a bar of soap and a brush. This definitely isn’t the country to wear a shirt for 5 minutes and throw it in the wash—you make sure your clothes are good and dirty before you put the effort into washing them. The didis have also been letting Hannah and me help with more of the chores, like dishes and the kids’ laundry, although I still feel like I’m not doing enough. I feel a little guilty when I’m outside playing football (or soccer, for the Americans reading this) with them and the didis are inside cooking.
Today Chris, Hannah, and I visited a Tibetan refugee camp. After China took control of Tibet, many Tibetans fled to Nepal until Nepal stopped accepting the refugees. Now, they live very poorly and often rely on tourists for their income. We’ll go back another day to watch the Buddhist monks say their daily prayers—we were too early today.
Tomorrow is the kids’ day off from school. They shower in the morning, and then around noon we will all go to the Lakeside district of Pokhara—the tourist area—for ice cream. From 3:00 to 5:00 a dance teacher comes to the house, so I’m pumped to learn along with them. Then tomorrow night Chris and Hannah and I will stay in a hotel in Lakeside, just to satisfy our spoiled American selves and eat something other than daal bhaat for dinner (although, surprisingly, I’m not sick of the food. Yet.).
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