white marbles?, leisurely meetings, the nature of delay, traveling together, the best field trip ever

What do you think when you hear this sound on the roof: “THUNK THUNK
…thunkthunkthunk…THUNK”? If you’re in Kathmandu, perhaps your first (dramatic) thought is a maoist revolt. Because you’re curious to see what real warfare looks like you get out on the balcony to take a look… hmmm, it doesn’t look like a war-zone, I mean, there’s no smoke or devastation. But… are those white marbles? No, wait… maybe gumbo gobstoppers? But plummeting down from the sky? The only good explanation is hail. REALLY REALLY big hail, where hours before there was only hot sunshine and exhaust fumes. Under the deluge kids are squealing in the street, clearly much braver than I am as they scoop up round chunks of ice into a bowl and shriek when they get hit by a particularly sharp whistling projectile. Watching from the balcony of the women’s organization my mouth was open as far as it could go- what an amazing and surprising sight!
Such freak weather occurrences (which are oddly common) sum up perfectly the random nature of Nepal, and being here is probably the best experience for learning how to roll with life’s punches. In this instance I had stopped by Raksha Nepal, the women’s organization, to discuss doing a Camera Skills Workshop for the women receiving aid there. Menuka (the president) was on the phone when I got there, so I spent about 10 minutes humming to myself and sneaking looks at the cool nose ring of the other woman waiting patiently in the office. I couldn’t help but wonger how long she had been there. She looked pretty comfortable. When Menuka finally got off of the phone she had to go to a meeting, and told me to find Rosna and schedule it. All the Nepali women helped me search for Rosna and we discovered that she had gone to lunch. They said she should be back soon, so I settled down to chat and wait, clearly forgetting what ‘soon’ means by Nepali standards.
For my pains I got a tasty homemade lunch, was inside during the hailstorm, and gave one of the sweet Nepali girls my name so she could add me on Facebook (bizarre). When Rosna finally appeared our meeting lasted about five minutes, but I left perhaps two hours after arriving. The funny thing is, if this happened in the states I would feel inconvenienced and grumpy, but because it happened in Nepal I left in a cheerful mood, feeling as if my two hours were well-spent. This may be a long description of a small thing, but the experience really reflects the slower lifestyle that you encounter in Nepal, where delays such as traffic jams, lack of electricity or freak hailstorms are part of the common order.
Similar kinds of interruptions were behind my long delay in posting to my blog, so let me take a moment to apologize, especially to my poor mother, for scaring her with my neglect. Load shedding is up to 12 hours a day, although the term ‘day’ is relative given that power is more often available at indecent times of the night when no-one is really using it. My internet time was also taken up by job applications, which hopefully will yield some fruit before I get home this summer. There are some very interesting possibilities including trail work, a summer camp at Kincaid, and an internship with an awesome organization providing services to rural Alaskans. While such applications are tricky any time, they are certainly much harder in Nepal, and I increasingly appreciate the conveniences of college or home. Overall, however, I actually like living without power all of the time- the little things that we cut out for the sake of convenience can be terrible to miss. E-mails instead of hand-written letters, for example, or microwave popcorn (enough said). I hope I can remember to spare time for the details when I come home.
Part of the reason for the gap in my posts was also because I was traveling with someone for the first time. My Alaskan friend Sean came to visit me over his spring break and I found that I had a lot less time for reading or writing, something that really surprised me. My normal chill time got filled up with lots of fun moments, like showing someone else how to use a Nepali toilet, hiking to Nagarkot to try and catch a panorama sunrise of the Himalayas, and doing some exhausting present shopping in Kathmandu. Sean also got to witness and prove the Nepali rule “Everyone gets sick in Nepal” as I was sick for his first two days here and he obligingly got the same nasty stomach badness several days later. So dad: when you come, bring some strong stomach-cleansing anti-biotics (and homemade cookies of course, although for other reasons), or perhaps you could just try Nepali whiskey. Despite the illnesses Sean and I had tons of fun, and I’m glad to know that traveling with someone is so much fun, although my time in Nepal also makes me appreciate traveling alone. I am glad that I will have two or three more weeks in Nepal to work with the kids and finish up photo classes, but am also excited for my dad to arrive and to go trekking. I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed- it has been 7 weeks, and I know the remaining time is going to trick me by passing by in an eyeblink, or maybe a couple.
Projects or activities, and the process of planning them, are the culprits of this collapsed time. Ever since I started doing T-shirts and other handicrafts with the kids, new ideas have snowballed! One of my favorite memories of Nepal is definitely going to be the fieldtrip we organized for the Junkiri Primary School students. While the volunteers mostly provided the funding and the Nepali teachers did the coordinating, it was a team effort to get a tiny bus that we all packed into, and drive an hour and a half to the Nepali zoo. The whole way there they sang Nepali songs to the beat of a drum, and jumped from cage to cage in delight at all the creatures to be seen. I’ll admit, I was just as enthralled as they were by the inside of a hippo’s mouth, the deadly sharp beaks of the cranes, and the savage bite of the feeding asian hyena. Sean and I decided to treat the kids to paddle boat rides (which cost about $7.50 for everyone) and let the photo students use our cameras to take picture after picture of the animals and fish.
After the boating we got back on the bus to have a picnic at one of Nepal’s botanical gardens outside of main Kathmandu in the hills. The kids all got icecream on the bus, and my legs slowly fell more asleep from weight of the adorable Bibesh on my lap. The picnic was delicious and huge with classic nepali donuts and chickpeas accompanied with coca cola and fanta. Afterwards Sean and I organized a game of “Tigers and Deer”, our Nepali adaptation of “Sharks and Minnows”, although the kids kept cheating so they could remain Deer. When we finally climbed back on the bus it’s hard to say who was more exhausted: the kids or the volunteers. Regardless, it’s a day I will always remember, especially the small moments like passing my sunglasses around to the kids on the bus, or watching little Arti resolutely continue to stuff her face and pockets with sweets, long after she was clearly full.