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