Dancing With Nuns

I just got back from trekking around the Annapurna Circuit.  I'll write a really long post about that in a moment, but I'll first add a couple pictures from immediately before the hike.

Right after my last post, I went up to the Pharping monastery to hang out with Santiago and Maria until trekking plans figured themselves out.  This is roughly what my time at the monastery was like:

I got to the monastery just in time for Losar, which is the Tibetan New Year.  It was perfect: I woke up at 6am to see the sun rising over golden-topped monasteries with brids floating in the thermals, monks chanting, and everyone ringing bells in prayer.  Later in the day, the nuns down the road put on a concert and dance party.  It was culturally informative and hilariously fun all at the same time.  Here are a few pitures:

This is the view of Kathmandu and the Himalayas from the nunnery.

These are the nuns doing their thing. 

From waht I gather, these nuns are dressed up to represent different kinds of buddhas.  They also have special positions for their hands and feet that mean certain things.  The dance looked pretty difficult.









After the program, they put on pop music and we all danced.  Some of the nuns were really impressive dancers.  I wish I had taken some pictures, because it really is a special memory to be dancing to Justin Biber with a 10-year-old nun.  Oh, Nepal.

OK... Massive trekking update coming soon.  Get excited.

The Uncertain Life of a Traveler

I feel like I am on an emotional swing set.  One moment, I feel shocked, confused, and scared.  The next moment, I feel happy and alive, full of love and amazement for beautiful Nepal and its beautiful people.  The following paragraphs have been written over the past week, and I think they show my mood swings very clearly.

Getting to Nepal was like being shot out of a cannon. After two weeks, I finally started to feel comfortable and at home in my traveling life when it all had to change again.  Now, I'm starting to realize that this is what I signed up for:  Once people and places start to become familiar, I will have to move on - I will be shot out of another cannon and end up in another foreign world.  I spent two weeks visiting places and making strong friendships with some special people.  Re-assembling yourself after being shot from a cannon is not an easy task, and the people who surround you and offer you love and support at that critical moment become friends who hold a very special place in your life.  When I think about Kathmandu, I don't think about Swayumbunath or daal bhaat - I think about Mexican cousins who laugh uncontrollably when they get tired and Nepali teachers who pause awkwardly in the middle of class.  It's a little bit sad and a little bit reassuring to realize the transience of it all.  In the end, everything and everyone that I could depend on fades away, and I'm left naked, all by myself.  I understand now that this trip is about revealing the hard truth about who I am when I have nothing familiar and no one to support me.

Now, here I am in Chitwan.  No one told me where I was going or what was expected of me.  They told me to get on a bus, and then they told me to get off.  This is the Nepali way of dealing with tourists: Just herd us around because we wouldn't understand what we should be doing on our own anyway.  I got off the bus and went to the school.  They gave me a book and said "teach."  So, I did.  I don't understand the kids, and they don't understand me.  Somehow, it works out alright.  Mainly, everyone is happy that I am here and that they can look at me and gain their own type of "cultural experience."  They say things that could be offensive, and they teach things that might not be quite right.  Men stare and point at me, and women grab me and pull me into a new world that I don't understand.  Everyone is loving and judging, and life is seamlessly bittersweet.  I've learned how to smile through the confusion and hope for the best as I get pulled by strangers into their homes.

I'm really not exaggerating.  Since the first day I got here, women have been taking me home and making me food.  I'll be walking down the street, and someone will start talking to me with a few English words and a few Nepali ones.  Then, they will say "My home is here.  Come."  They give me tea, coffee, popcorn, pickeled lemons, bean-looking things, chicken, rice, vegitables, and lots of things that I can't even guess the names of.  There are so many lovely hospitable women in Nepal that I haven't had a single moment to myself.  Even my "rest day," Saturday, was full of non-stop activity.  5 of the women from the school (Mina, Bimala, Niru, Denu, and Saku) took me on a picnic by a temple on a hill.  When we got there, they dressed me up in a sari, put makeup on me, gave me a lot of jewelry, and finally added a veil, so that I would look like a bride.  Even better, once I was all dressed up, they taught me Nepal's national anthem and added a tikka.  I felt like a doll being dressed up and paraded around, but it was lots of fun.

Last night, I went to the temple with my host mother, Susila.  I wish I could have captured the colorful piles of people, but my camera is broken.  There were people of all ages dressed in bright colors sitting, dancing, singing, and drinking tea.  An old man had a microphone, and many more old men had bells, drums, and tambourines.  The man with the microphone seemed to be telling a story, and some younger men were acting it out.  As if he were just continuing his sentence, the old man would slowly start singing, and all of the people would start laughing and dancing.  As subtly as it started, the singing would stop, and the man would continue his story.  Even though I was trying to be as invisible as possible, some of my students found me at the temple and brought attention to me.  The other women became interested in my presence, and they pulled near middle of the group, where I sat under a huge spotlight.  I'm getting very used to being stared at, so I just smiled happily and enjoyed the dancing.

At the school, I am known as "Aashaa-ma'am."  The one thing that gives me a moment to feel like I belong in Nepal is when I am walking down the street and a kid yells from their roof-top "good morning, Aashaa-ma'am!" or comes to walk next to me in a proud "look-at-me-I'm-walking-next-to-the-teacher" way.  Most of the time, I feel like the adults are afraid of me, but the kids have no trouble running up and asking me millions of questions.  When a kid acts like I am important to them, I feel like the adults are a little less afraid of me.  Isn't that silly?  What would the world be without childish ignorance?  I thank God that these kids don't understand how to discriminate.

Life in Nepal is painful and amazing.  Most of the time, I don't know what to think.  The gender segregation/inequality makes me want to leave this country and pretend that such a life doesn't exist.  People's welcoming attitudes and happiness with their place in life makes me want to buy a house and settle down here forever.  I think that I will be confused the entire time that I am here.  The cultural differences make it fundamentally impossible for me to understand life here.  The more I learn about the way people think and behave, the more confused I become.  I'm seeing so many new things - half of these things horrify me, and half make me happy.  However, no matter what I feel, I cannot share my true feelings with the local people.  We don't understand eachother, and we never will.  I really don't mean to sound negative - I think we are all learning a lot from sharing our cultural perspectives, but after all the sharing is done, we have to respect our  differences and move on.

This is the cycle of my travels: just when start to feel alone and think that I made a mistake in coming here, I find some beautiful people who offer me friendship and support.  Sometimes, I feel a huge distance between myself and the Nepali people.  Then, when I'm in my bedroom about to cry myself to sleep, I get a call or a text from someone who cares.  Just now, my Nepali friend Mina writes "I'm worried about you.  Are you ok?"  If I would say "no," she would probably be here any second.  Why am I so lucky to find such caring people in these unlikely places?  Similarly, Santos (the guy who I went with to get his tattoo) found out that I was planning on coming to Sauraha for the food festival.  Instead of letting me take the bus, he came and picked me up, took me to his family's house, and came up with entertaining things for me to do while I was in town.

The biggest thing that I've been struggling with in Nepal is knowing when I can trust people.   The day I arrived in Nepal, a man at the airport cheated me out of a lot of money.  I just realized that I've been holding a grudge against all Nepali people because of that man.  I haven't really trusted anyone since I got here, except for Santiago and Maria.  Every time a Nepali person has given me something or started a conversation, I've been holding my breath and waiting for them to take my money or kidnap me or something.  As I've been mentioning, ever since I got to the school, the women have been taking me into their homes, giving me gifts, and taking me on excursions.  I've been so ridiculously stressed out because I've felt like I had to weigh every word I said to them and keep a careful eye out for the moment when they would turn on me.  I thought the friendliness of these women was just too good to be true.  I think that I'm being obnoxious and that I have to relax and try to trust people.  My friendship with Mina is helping me do that.  It's strange, but this is how I decided that I can trust her:

I had a bad day.  I woke up at 4:30 am to review my notes, and then I headed over to a college to give some lectures to English literature classes about the poem "To His Coy Mistress."  The principal of the school I am volunteering at also teaches at the college, and he asked me to teach about this poem.  After some conversations with the principal over coffee after class, I realized that our personalities and views on life really clash.  Waking up so early combined with trying to be pleasant through our conversation drained most of my energy before I even started the day.  At 7:30 am, I returned home, had breakfast, and prepared the lessons for today's classes at the grade school.  Though I usually love the "good morning, Aashaa-ma'am's" and the flowers and chocolates that the kids give me, this morning it was really hard gather enough energy to act happy and excited.  To make things even more difficult, today I started wearing Nepali clothes.  Everyone was telling me how beautiful I am and that I'd look Nepali if only I were a bit darker.  All the compliments were really nice, however, one of the male teachers kept looking at me in an admiring way, and that made me sort of nervous.  I had a really hard time avoiding eye contact and trying not to smile directly at him.  The two things that I do understand about Nepali culture is that people like to gossip and that flirting (even if it's not on purpose) is not allowed.  Maybe I'm over-reacting, but better safe than sorry.  Finally, when classes started, they went horribly.  The kids wouldn't listen to me, no one had done their homework, and they were all screaming.  Everyone seemed to have their own agenda, and there was no way for me to figure out what was going on because I don't speak Nepali.  After class, I told Mina about it, and I almost started crying.  I went out for a quick walk to calm myself, and when I got back, all of the teachers were lined up and looking at me.  Poor Aashaa-ma'am.  But that's when I realized that I have a friend.  Mina and I talked for a long time, just like we do every day.  In addition to a little bit of "it's ok, kids are kids," she just said the same kinds of things that she always says.  I really don't know what happened, but I suddenly realized that the reason that she's talking to me is because she likes talking to me - even when I'm in a bad mood.  It's nothing more, and nothing less.  I wish I could describe the relief I felt when I realized that I can trust her. 

Anyway, now I'm in Sauraha, which is 20-ish minutes by motorcycle from where I live.  Last night was a big food festival, and it ended with a dj playing mixed pop/techno music.  The Nepali teens/college kids were more excited about dancing than anyone I've ever seen.  We ate, we danced, and Santos got another tattoo.  I'm starting to realize that hanging out with Santos is just asking to be put into really awkward situations.  He thinks he's helping by telling people that I should be treated like a Nepali, but it just turns out to be really confused and awkward.  I'd rather pay more for things and have people stare and poke at the strange American girl than argue forever about how much things should cost and whether I should be let into places.

Now, I'm about to head back to the school in Bharatpur, where I will be for the next two weeks.  I probably will have internet next around February 28th, when I return to Kathmandu for the Shiva Ratri festival and for visiting the Mexicans at the Pharping monastery.  Hopefully this long post holds you over until then.  If not, you can call me on my cell phone through Skype or google talk.  I hear that Skype costs like 35 cents per minute, and google talk is like 16 cents per minute, but I receive the calls for free.  If you call from a real phone, then I think it charges both of us a lot of money and the phone will probably cut out pretty quick.  You can try, though, if you want to test what happens.  Anyway, my phone number is 977-981-346-7502, and I'd be happy to hear from you guys if you ever think of me.

Love you all!

My name is Aashaa, and I live in the jungle.

It's not as bad as it sounds.

First thing: The five of us were given Nepali names by the guys at the hostel.  Santiago, Maria, and I are all starting a long period of travelling, and we decided that these would be our "travel names."  The name I was given is Aashaa, which means hope.

Next thing: Nepal has three main regions.  The north is the himalaya, which is obviously mountains.  The middle of the country is hills, and the south is jungle.  Chitwan is one of the jungle states, and this is where I will be volunteering.

I feel infinitely happier since I left Kathmandu.  You can't breathe in Kathmandu.  The air is black and the chaos suffocates you.  Now, I'm sitting in a hammock next to a grass-roofed house in the jungle.  There are birds chirping in the banana trees and kids wrestling with goats in the mustard fields.  I feel happy.

Getting from Kathmandu to Chitwan was an adventure all on its own.  If you go straight by bus, Chitwan is a 5-6 hour drive.  We started our trip to Chitwan in a "tourist bus," which is labeled with "TOURIST" in huge letters and is much nicer than the local buses.  People are not subtle in Nepal.  After a few hours, we got off the bus and did a 2 hour river rafting trip.  The river runs along the road, so Keshav took our bags and met us a little ways down the river.  After that, we got on a local bus for the rest of the way to Chitwan.  This picture is me and Abby on the bus.  Like, ON the bus.  There was no space inside, so we sat on the roof with our bags.  It was one of the coolest things I've ever done.  We spent two hours lying on top of the bus driving between hills next to a beautiful river.  Every time we passed through a town, all of the kids would start yelling and waving.  It was sort of like being in a fairytale.

This is a picture of the town we are currently staying in.  It's a tourist town called Sauraha on the edge of the Chitwan National Park.  It's a really nice town, and they have a ridiculous amount of wildlife.  The most abundant are elephants, goats, buffalo, ducks, camels, chickens, and crocodiles.  In the jungle, there are also rhinos, deer, peacocks, and lots of birds and bugs.  

We're staying at the Chitwan Park Cottage which is run by two brothers named Krishna and Santos.  Last night, we hung out with Santos.  It was by far the most awkward and confusing night of my life.  First, we went to a cafe by the river and drank tea while waiting to see some rhinos walk by.  As we sat there, it started getting extremely foggy.  Apparently, dense fog is the norm at night when you live in the jungle.  After our tea, Santos convinced us to come with him to his friend's house to watch him get a tattoo.  His tattoo was something like this: [picture of jesus's face] SAYS ! WHO R U ? [picture of girl's face]  ... I'm not too sure what that means.  In any case, when we arrived at his friends house, the whole family stood up with horrified looks on their faces.  I think they were really confused about why Santos had brought over a bunch of white people, but he didn't seem to notice that everyone was terrified of us.  There really wasn't much that we could do about it, so we hung around until his tattoo was done and tried not to look too scary.  It was a very awkward experience, and it made me realize the extreme cultural differences between us.

The next day we went sightseeing around Sauhara.  We went on a walk through the jungle, a canoe ride, an elephant ride, to the elephant breeding center, to a Tharu dance show, and to a really creepy museum.  This is a picture of one of the elephant fetuses at the museum.  I just wanted to post it to show that people here care about science in their own special way...

And now, just to end on a happy note: This is a peacock!  During the elephant ride through the jungle we saw lots of different birds and animals.  I thought this was the coolest.

Tomorrow, I'll finally be with my host family.  I'll be living in a town 15 minutes away from Narayangarh, which is a big town in Chitwan.  This means that I should be able to find internet quite often, so I'll be in touch.