Return Date: June 15

Friends, I am wrapping up my time in Nepal and getting excited to return to the States and see you all! My map in the corner says I return June 2 but I wanted to let you know that has been extended to June 15. I will be home that evening.

See you soon!

Trekking in the Himalayas

One of the things I really wanted to do before returning home was trek in the Himalayas—and I got to do that last week! I trekked with 3 friends from my organization through a mountain range about 7 hours drive from Kathmandu. The mountain peaks were beautiful and trekking through terraced farmlands seemed to be a classic way to spend my time before leaving Nepal.

 We trekked for 4 days and stayed in lodges (called teahouses) along the way. In total we trekked about 32 miles with an 8,000 feet elevation gain. The elevation gain was, well, tough! I have to say it was the most physically demanding thing I've ever done. But when we reached the views at Poon Hill for a 5:30 a.m. sunrise, it was worth it all. (-:

Here are a few snapshots from the trek.

I almost jumped on the back of one of these donkeys halfway through the trek.

I guess we didn't consult each other before taking this pic!

Finally... classic Nepal.

What I See ...

Friends, it has been a while since I posted anything here and wanted to let you all know I am still alive and doing well. It seems the more comfortable I get in Kathmandu, the busier I get as well! I thought I'd share a few photos of the fun things I've been doing and the interesting things I see so you can get a better picture of the atmosphere here. Enjoy!

Elephants crossing a river in Chitwan National Park.

Lots of traffic here Kathmandu but no stoplights, or rules for that matter. (-:

The tougher side of life in Kathmandu is the pollution. Many wear masks to help filter some of the pollutants and smells.

A mask or bandana comes in very handy on the dirt roads!

A colorful contraption on wheels used to display idols during a festival.

A temple in Bhaktapur, a town about an hour outside Kathmandu with many beautifully restored paths, statues, and buildings from the medieval era.

Elephants are a theme here!

And, finally, drinking coke and celebrating our friend Santi's birthday. She is the one wearing pink!

Jawalawhat?

Sunday night I had what I like to call a cultural learning moment. I was out all day with a Nepali friend walking and talking around one of the tourist sites. It was getting late and dark so we decided around 6:30 p.m. to find local transport to get me back home. We were in New Baneshwor, a section of Kathmandu, and I needed to get to Jawalakhel, I’m guessing about 8 miles away. The only problem . . . I didn’t really know where I was or how to speak the language. The “transport” that ensued would have been completely normal—if I knew exactly what I was doing.

So one of the forms of transportation here is a tempo, a small, 3-wheeled vehicle with two benches situated lengthwise in the back of the vehicle. There’s usually just enough room to squeeze your hips onto part of the bench and hold on to a rail above your head. (see pictures)

So my Nepali friend found a tempo for me and made sure it was going to Jawalakhel. She also told the driver that I (the foreigner with limited Nepali!) should be getting off there so he would point it out when we arrived. Well, about a half hour into the ride, I asked someone if we were at Jawalakhel. No, not yet. It’s still ahead? OK, great.

A few minutes later, the driver stopped, got out of the vehicle, and started counting his money. This should have been my first clue something was wrong. Before I knew it, without explanation, everyone piled out of the tempo and got into a different one. I was left sitting there wondering what on earth was going on. And there didn’t seem to be anyone too worried about the sole bedeshi (foreigner) sitting by herself in the tempo. So with no one to tell me what to do, I figured I’d follow the masses and pack up and hop into the new tempo too. When I got in I wasn’t quite brave enough to try forming complete sentences in Nepali with any of the passengers, so I looked quizzically at one of them and asked Jawalakhel?

In retrospect, this may not have been the best question to ask. For all he knew, I could have been asking Do you like Jawalakhel? Have you ever been to Jawalakhel? Is Jawalakhel on this route at some point? He graciously said yes but I’m quite unclear now which question he was answering because I don’t know at what point we arrived at Jawalakhel, if we stopped, or if anyone got off or on. All I know is he gave me an affirmative answer and that somehow made me feel secure for a few more minutes.

About 20 minutes later most of the passengers got off the tempo and I was left with one other passenger and the tempo driver asking me where I was going. What follows is my English interpretation of the conversation. It may not be exactly (at all) what was really said:

Where are you going? [driver to me]
Jawalakhel.
Jawalakhel?
Yes.                   
This is New Baneshwor.
Hold on, what?! … Oh, no!
[laughter]

So, if you recall, I began my journey at 7 p.m. in New Baneshwor. It was now 8 p.m. and I was once again in New Baneshwor. Oh, this was too funny. I had apparently missed Jawalakhel, switched tempos at the halfway point along the route, and made the return trip back within an hour. LOL. What do I do now?

So you won’t be going back to Jawalakhel tonight?
Ah, no. You’d better find a taxi.
[more chuckles]
OK. How many rupees for the ride?

His answer was the classic Nepali head tilt, which meant “Don’t worry about it.” Ah, he had taken pity on the confused bedeshi. So I quickly found a taxi and confirmed the price and destination. $3.50 for the ride. OK, deal. The tempo ride would have cost about 25 cents, but no matter. This solution was quick and safe, and I was home in about 10 minutes.

All in all, the tempo ride was a comical experience for everyone involved—the driver, the other passenger, and myself! So I’ve decided to call it a comical “learning moment” and hold to the old adage that life is really more about the journey than the destination.

Snapshots of Kathmandu

I have been in Nepal 4 weeks now and am finally starting to feel like I have a bit of a routine and know where I'm going—at least in the 3-mile radius I walk around my home! I haven't taken as many pictures yet as I'd like, but here are a few pictures and descriptions to give you a snapshot of life here in Kathmandu.

Kathmandu is nestled in a valley amid mountains, which you can see on a clear day. In the picture above you can see Swayambhunath Temple on the left overlooking the city. I and a couple friends hiked to this temple one Saturday.

The steps going up at Swayambhunath Temple

When we visited the temple it was a Saturday, the Hindu holy day, so the temple was filled with people, sounds, smells, and color. It was fascinating to see the intricacies of it all.

Bhuddist prayer flags at the temple.

Back at my home, here is a view (below) of part of the city from my rooftop. I share a flat with another American who happens to be from Minnesota! Our view overlooks the the laundry and washing hub of the city called the dhobighat. The laundry lines are quite a colorful view most days!

Conveniently, the office I teach English at is only a 5-minute walk from home! I teach just below the dhobighat in one of the flats on the left in the picture above. To give you an idea of day to day life, I am currently teaching Monday through Thursday in the afternoons. In the mornings I either prep for teaching or take Nepali classes from a private tutor. (The walk to Nepali class is a bit farther—about 25 minutes one way.) I have to say, the Nepali language is difficult, but I am learning ... slowly.

The English classes, on the other hand, are going really well. I teach 5 students every day (3 lower level students and 2 intermediate level). It's a blessing to be able to teach a small number of students and give them the attention they need. We are working on pronunciation, reading, and identifying parts of speech in the intermediate level class right now. In the lower level, we spent the first two weeks studying for a high school equivalency exam called the School Leaving Certificate. Two students are taking the exam this week!

Life in Kathmandu is colorful, to say the least. I can't say I'm used to the incessant honking yet or walking into oncoming traffic to cross the street. But the people are beautiful and I enjoy my world "shrinking" to about a 3-mile radius as I walk to the store, then class, the office, and home. Hopefully I can share more shapshots of daily life here as I spend more time calling it home in the coming weeks.

Water Balloon War

Last week I saw my first festival in Nepal and got a bit of a “holi” surprise.

Hindus celebate Holi Festival in the spring of every year. The festival’s roots are religious (I’ll let you google it), but today the actual celebration involves any kid or adult who wants to wage war for a week with water, paint, and balloons. Yes, you read that right. Water balloons! If you “play” holi, this means you set up camp on your rooftop, balcony, or street and declare war on your neighbors, friends, or any unsuspecting foreigner who happens to pass by.

So what did this mean for me? Well, last week I was pretty vigilant about taking note of my surroundings! I figured a water balloon couldn’t do too much damage, right? But then I kept hearing about the dyed powder. Some water balloons were packed with color, and the powder wouldn’t be too forgiving. So I walked through the narrower alleys with a bit of a head tick that week, looking over my shoulder for any little missiles headed my way! In the end I had 3 or 4 close calls but no major collisions—until the Holi day (Saturday) hit.

On Holi day most people stay inside unless they want to come out and “play.” I stayed inside most of the day watching the Lord of the Rings trilogy with friends but toward 2 p.m. got an itch to go out and see what this festival was all about. So I and two friends hopped in a taxi and drove around Kathmandu’s tourist district and started taking pictures of all the fun. We saw paint and water everywhere. Some were laughing, some dancing, and some obviously looking for their next battle to wage. Yes, the party had begun.

 

Yes, we got hit!

The three of us were quite content to sit inside the taxi and take in the fun behind glass windows, but my mistake came when I rolled down my window for a shot of some colorfully painted faces and POOF! I got two shots of red powder back in my face. What a surprise! If you get 10 points for hitting a Nepali, I think it’s about 50 points for an unsuspecting foreigner. My friend told me later she thought I was very “brave” to roll down my window all the way. Nice, I thought ... If naivety is similar to bravery then I must be very, very brave. (-:

See the powder ready in their hands?

my name Jessica is.

Friends, I am finally here. After a (beautiful) detour in Africa, I arrived safely in Nepal last week and have spent the last week getting to know the city, the people, the food, and you guessed it—the language. I am on Day 3 of Nepali language learning and have gotten a healthy dose of language overload already. I am ready to ask all my students back home, Is this what your brain feels like every day?

Anyone who has learned a new language will tell you that laughter is pretty much a necessity in language class. I had a good laugh yesterday as we neared the end of Day 2 of language learning. We were working on some new words and I was still trying to comprehend the syntax (word order) while remembering the word meanings when my teacher Chalita asked me a question. I don't remember the question but I'm quite sure it was a simple one. Unfortunately, though, my brain had already shut down. I was at a point where I was visibly confused and my response was a classic blank stare. Try to picture the confusion and dismal composure at this point. I looked at her—and I had nothing.

Now Chalita is a good teacher. She is challenging yet patient and encouraging. She looked at me and quite sweetly asked in Nepali, What is your name? Ah, relief. Now this was one question I could answer! I felt humbled ... a bit like a victim of amnesia with a psychiatrist probing my memory to see if I could answer the simplest of questions. What is your name? I laughed. She laughed. And my confidence grew as I answered. mero naam Jessica ho. Yes. My name Jessica is. This I know.


Stepping into a new land feels a bit like language learning sometimes. It's one step at a time, and it's humbling to be in a position where I don't know the ins and outs of everyday life. I'm learning it's OK to ask questions, OK to be uncertain about tomorrow, and OK to rely on many people to help me every day. I am sure there will be many more laughs to come, especially in language learning. In the meantime, I'll stick with what I know and rely on God's grace to keep teaching me and humbling me with each new day.

Verse of the day: In his heart a man plans his course, but the Lord determines his steps. Proverbs 16:9

Hakuna Matata

Well, it's mid-afternoon and a beautiful 85 degrees in Kenya. I feel like saying hakuna matata. No worries. Love the weather here and have been having a wonderful time catching up with my college friends Heather and Jason. Jason works as a surgeon at Tenwek Hospital here 150 miles outside Nairobi. You can check out their blog at mccropders.blogspot.com.

I have to say ... Kenya is beautiful. My first two days were spent site seeing. We saw a baby elephant orphanage, a giraffe park, and Crescent Island. Crescent Island is a 400-acre piece of land used 25 years ago to film Out of Africa. Animals were brought in for the film and never left, making it a great tourist spot. We took a boat out to the island and then walked around looking for animals. Here are a few highlights from the sites:

Wildebeest below an Acacia tree

"Baby" elephant (about a year old)

The best part about Crescent Island was an unexpected gift. While we were walking across the island our guide Bernard spotted something. He called to us, "Come quickly!" We didn't exactly know what were were running toward but hurried down the hill to see. Bernard had just seen a baby giraffe being born. We arrived about 30 seconds later to see the baby on the ground, fluids still covering him. Bernard told us it was quite unusual to see a giraffe being born because births usually happen at night. Amazing. It wasn't long before the baby started lifting his head and trying to walk. We waited for 30-40 minutes to see him take his first steps, thinking out loud that it takes our babies a year to start walking. It attempted several times to get up but our boat actually arrived before we could see the climax. Below are some photos of the mother and newborn:

And a video of one of the baby's attempts to get up!

Hakuna matata. I am sure he was up in no time.

Pineapple on a Stick?

 Fresh fruit is quite a treat here in Mozambique. Walking through the market, driving through the city, or driving along the highway fresh fruit is always around and ready for the eating! Today is my last day in Mozambique, so Dara, Nede, and I went into the city to get a pineapple treat. Mmmm.... pineapple on a stick! We picked up these little pineapples for a crazy 15 cents a piece. The vendor sliced off the rind and the end result? YUM!

Monkey See, Monkey Do

What I've learned in the last 3 weeks living with a five-year-old:

1) You never know what's going to happen next.

2) Kids have a lot more energy than I do!

Nede is the little girl Dara is taking care of, and she's full of spunk and joy. The other day I got out the grass mat to do some stretching at the end of the day and Nede decided it would be fun for her too. So she found the smaller grass mat and "monkey see, monkey do!" I am pretty sure it was her first time stretching (how much stretching does her body of endless energy need, anyway?). She did great.

I love the multi-tasking in the next photo. She's working on her abdominal stretch, holding a mango, AND getting a tongue stretch in as well! Note the beautiful pink princess dress she's wearing. This dress is one of her favorite play dresses that sometimes doubles as her "presentation" dress when visitors arrive! Pink is a daily theme. (-:

Monkey loves climbing trees too!

Playful and adorable. (-:

Mountain Adventures

I heard a friend say this week "only in Africa." I chuckled and nodded. I've only been here three weeks but see some truth to that. Every day brings a little adventure and risk, especially when driving a '69 Land Rover in the bush.

So this week we had a "planned" adventure hiking up a small mountain called Old Man's Face. The hike was great—invigorating and beautiful. We took our Rover (The Beast) to a local village and parked when we could go no further for fear of breaking the axle. The four of us then hiked through the corn fields, around a rice paddy, and across a stream to get to the foot of this mountain. The hike up was short and steep, and the views were worth it. Here are a few pics, then some thoughts along the way: 

Our hiking group: Rebecca, Dara, Jose (and me).

Dara, me, and Rebecca. (Rebecca is living with us right now so that she can finish grade 10 in the city.)

We made it! Jose (middle) insisted we take this hike to see the views!

The views!

cousins

The hike was great, and our planned adventure brought more experiences and pondering than I had anticipated. What you don't see in these pictures is the witch doctor we passed as we walked through the village or the place near the mountaintop where goats are sacrificed to keep away evil spirits. But then, on the other side of the mountain, we passed a group sitting under the shade of a tree listening to preaching—and then praying to God. 

There is so much going on here spiritually and seeing a witch doctor on the same hike that we heard a group praying to God really brought that to light. There is a real battle going on here for the hearts of the people. I have met some who follow Christ who still seek healing through traditional rituals such as those performed by the witch doctor. The scars on their bodies tell all. I wonder what draws them to seek answers apart from Christ—and then begin to wonder the same about myself. We come from very different cultures, yet at the root I think we are very much the same. We are all seeking answers—and seeking to fill our hearts with hope and assurance. I have chosen Christ for life, yet I see how much it is a daily choice as well. “Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:21) I see more and more how the battle for our hearts is real. I pray we continue to encourage one another daily to put our faith and hope in Christ.

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Conviction

One wonderful thing about my time so far in Mozambique is that I have had time to read. The last story I read was about William Tyndale, a reformer and translator who was martyred in the early 1500s. I've learned that Tyndale was the first to translate the whole Greek New Testament into English and make it available in printed form. Check out some of these beautiful verses that have stood the test of time from Tyndale's original English translation:

The Lord bless thee and keep thee. The Lord make his face to shine upon thee and be merciful unto thee. The Lord lift up his countenance upon thee, and give thee peace. (Numbers 6:24-26)

Our Father, which art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. (Matthew 6:9)

In him we live, move and have our being. (Acts 17:28)

I share this with you because I am fascinated that Tyndale dedicated his life to this translation—to something he believed in so deeply that he was willing to die for it. Tyndale was an Englishman and the Roman Catholic church at the time forbade translation of scripture into English. Yet Tyndale firmly believed the Bible should be available in the language of his people. For fear of his life, he left England in 1524 and worked on the translation in Germany for the next 12 years. In 1536 he was burned at the stake for this work and his reformed doctrine. In 2011—almost 500 years later—I now have the privilege of reading scripture in my native tongue partly because this man was willing to give his life for it. Thank you, Tyndale. I pray I can live my life with such conviction.

The Beast

So is it odd to take a nap at 7:30 p.m.? Our power went out around then. I was beat from a day in the sun, a birthday party for Dara’s friend, playing a fun game of futebol, and riding in our new “tractor” Land Rover (stay tuned for more on that). The power came back on at 8, but my body didn’t quite have enough oomph to get up. The power promptly went out again soon after. I sit here now at 8:30 p.m., awake, writing this in Microsoft Word, thinking (hoping) the power might come back on later this evening and I can transfer it to the internet. Ah, there it is. Lights! And access to you, the rest of the world.

Now on to the more comical part of the day.

My cousin Dara and her car situation has been a matter of some concern, prayer, and entertainment since I arrived. Her goal is to buy a new truck for herself soon, but until then, she is at the mercy of some generous friends who have been loaning her a vehicle. Yesterday we took her Bighorn in to get some work done and her replacement vehicle turned out to be our latest source of hilarity. An early 70s Land Rover with the engine of a ’69 tractor. You’ve got to be kidding, right? No, for real. We feel like we’re heading into a safari—just without the animals, only the thrill of the ride. We’ve gotten plenty of strange looks—and a few outright laughs—as we (two young white girls) drive around in the Beast with a little Mozambican girl perched on my lap in the front. And we've had plenty of laughs ourselves, so we couldn’t resist taking a few pictures for your entertainment as well.

If you’d like to read more about this adventure, check out Dara’s blog at thereforego.blogspot.com. She details the “instructions” we received as we piled into the Rover. And funny thing, the tractor/truck combo we affectionately call the Beast apparently drives like a boat.

The Beast.

Me and Nede (pronounced like Freddy with an "n"). Nede is the five-year-old girl Dara is taking care of.

Dara, still smiling.