When I’m Wrong, I Say I’m Wrong (begrudgingly)

I need to retract my statements from an earlier post about missing my hair dryer, flat iron, and make-up.  I thought I did, because vanity is such an ingrained part of American culture.  But the couple days I spent in L.A. before returning home, having to do my hair, do my make-up, find a cute outfit, were completely annoying.  Needing to allow time to “get pretty” and subscribe to cultural beliefs of physical attractiveness is stressful.  I think one can still look good without all of the fuss.  Now, I miss NOT having to use a hair dryer, flat iron and make-up and being able to get ready for the day 5 minutes after getting out of the shower.  I never actually felt too terribly self-conscious about not having my hair or make-up done, as no one else seemed to really care.  I was just feeling what I thought I needed to feel because of all the societal pressure placed on how we look.  In reality, I probably looked fine because I was feeling good, and that happiness was probably showing on the outside.  On the other hand, there has been many times this past year where I have “gotten pretty” but didn’t look the part because my unhappiness was reflecting on my outward appearance. 

Speaking of the shower, a few days last week, I went to the orphanage with my hair still pretty wet.  The first day, one of the girls asked if I had washed that day.  When I went in with wet hair for the second day in a row, she was really surprised, asking if I wash every day.  Which made me feel really guilty for saying yes, upon finding out that they can only shower once a week.  And then I felt bad about complaining about the cold water, because at least I still had that luxury of showering every day.  And actually, on my last day in KTM, I took a shower in the afternoon (before my 30+ hours of travel) and was welcomed with a hot shower.  While I relished in it for a few minutes, particularly when washing my hair, I realized I had grown accustomed to the invigorating feeling of the cold water, and promptly turned on the cold for the last few minutes.  Although if I were to be staying in KTM through the winter, I KNOW I would be regretting this past statement, as there would be no escape from the ice cold water and into the ice cold house! 

FEAR – Nothing But a Four-Letter Word

When I made the decision to go on this trip, one of my biggest fears was that I would be flying home by myself.  Anna and Farrah are going to India for a week, but I am unable to attend that part of the journey.  So that left me with flying home solo.  Or not going on the trip at all, but that’s just crazy to miss out on a life experience because of fear.  I fly all over the United States by myself all the time, but this, being my first trip to Asia, was sure to be an adventure.  The obvious obstacle is my vision.  Then there’s the language barrier.  I took 5 years of French, the last being 13 years ago, and now can only remember simple phrases.  Not that French would help me in Asia, but I just wish I could better communicate with those who do not speak English.  I guess it’s time for some Rosetta Stone?  It’s really very sad how many of us lack bilingual skills, particularly in light of how well-versed people all over the world are in English.  The schools in Nepal require that the children take English, so even though some people had limited knowledge of the language, I never really had to worry much about the communication barrier because I could always generally get my message across.  However, if I was a blind woman who only spoke Chinese or Nepalese and decided to visit America alone, I would be seriously freaking out, considering those languages are not universally known amongst Americans.  Actually, I probably wouldn’t go.  To go to a foreign place where there is a good chance that not many people will speak your language or understand your needs is incredibly frightening.  I am so lucky/appreciative that I have the ability to find someone at any major airport who speaks enough English to assist me.  Not that it has been easy, but it’s been a lot better than I was expecting, thus far.

Anish and Santos picked me up at the volunteer house to drive me to the KTM airport.  From there, they were able to explain my situation to the KTM airport employees, and, after a tearful goodbye to them, I quickly and easily received assistance to the ticket counter, through security, and to my gate.  Although they made me ride in a wheelchair, but it was too hard to explain that I can walk just fine, that yes, my eyes look “normal,” but they just don’t work very well, so I just went with it.  During that first 4.5 hour flight from KTM to Guangzhou, the staff from China Southern Airlines was very helpful (even bumping me to business class – yay!).  Although when I got off the plane in China, the man walking me from the plane to the transfer area did wave his hand in front of my face a few times, trying to discern whether I could see it, which was pretty rude.  I told him I could see what he was doing, so he was probably confused about why I was using a cane and needed assistance, but oh well.  Because of the 16 hour layover (brutal, but the only option), China Southern puts passengers up in a free hotel, but it is outside the airport and accessibly by bus.  Although they were insistent that I would have proper assistance to and from the hotel and back to my gate, I was still leery.  Instead, I was able to find a woman whose English was good enough that I told her I was worried about not finding someone to help me back to the airport, etc.  She laughed at me, insisting that it was perfectly safe, but I didn’t really care, I wasn’t going for it.  One step at a time in this whole being by myself at an Asian airport thing. 

I asked her if I could go to the business class lounge instead of the hotel, and she seemed shocked that I would be willing to pay the $50 fee, telling me how it was so expensive and the hotel was safe and all.  But I was adamant, and she really was quite nice, so she helped arrange for me to come to the business lounge.  It’s glorious.  And pristine.  I haven’t seen a bathroom this clean in over 4 weeks; it’s even nicer than some at home!  I have my own small bedroom – with air conditioning!  And a pretty comfortable bed where I took a lovely 4 hour nap, after being up all night on the flight here.  Apparently there are showers somewhere too, but no one has shown me those, plus I don’t have any clean clothes anyway since I left most of them in KTM!  So I can deal with that, especially since I don’t feel nearly as gross as I did on the first layover here, when Anna, Farrah and I were lying on the floor of the terminal.  At least I’m in a clean place right now!  Also included are 3 meals, since I got here at 5:00 am and don’t leave until 9:30 pm.  Considering that during our last time here, we spent $50 at one of the restaurants in the terminal just on 3 mango milkshakes and an order of dumplings to share, I’d say I definitely got my money’s worth!  And although the wifi is blocking me from most websites, I was able to Skype with my mom during the last 3 innings of the Cards game and listen live as they took Game 1 in the 13th!  Go Cards!

I still have 4 hours left before boarding, plus the 12.5 hour flight to LAX, but so far, this experience has gone much smoother than I could have hoped, and I am so glad I did not stay back in the U.S. because I was scared. 

So the bottom line is to never NOT do something because of fear (yes, I used a double negative there – but you get the point).  Fear can (and often does) hold us back and cause us to miss out on so many wonderful opportunities in life.  And yes, facing those fears is scary and unnerving, but in the end, it is so worth it.  I still have so many fears in life, and will experience many, many more, but I hope to continue to face and conquer them, because all I can do in life is try my best at fighting that four-letter word and see what happens. 

Namaste, Nepal!

My final week in Nepal has been a whirlwind of activities and emotions.  Upon arriving in KTM, I was so stressed that all I wanted to do was leave.  Now, just 4 short weeks later, all I want is to stay.  Nepal is an amazing, beautiful, exciting, crazy, chaotic and exhilarating place – and I love it.  I still have so many other places in the world that I would like to go, but at this point, my only thought revolves around when I can come back to KTM.  There is so much I still want to do and see in this country, but a huge part of my heart belongs to the people.  Fortunately, some of these people are the other volunteers who are from the States, so I look forward to being able to rendezvous with them back home.  Sadly, however, the only way I will actually be able to see my KTM friends again is if I am ever able to make it back here.  Santos, Anish, Bijaya and Saurav have become such an instrumental part of my life over such a short period of time. 

And don’t even get me started on the girls at Peace Buddha and the boys at the monastery.  Saying my goodbyes to them was gut-wrenching.  Thursday was my last day at Peace Buddha, and the girls made me a garland of flowers to wear and they gave me a tika blessing on my forehead.  The hugs, kisses and taking of pictures seemed to go by in an instant.  They kept asking when I would be back to visit and I replied with, “someday soon, I hope,” while in the back of my mind knowing that there is a good possibility that it might never happen.  For now, I must be satisfied with keeping in touch via e-mail.  After time, I’m certain that the girls will forget me, as volunteers are constantly coming and going, but I will never be able to forget about them.  It’s amazing how attached you can become to certain people so quickly, and how they can make such a drastic impact on your life. 

The same goes for the boys at the monastery.  While Devon and I were constantly complaining about how misbehaved they were and how difficult they were to teach, neither of us would trade them for a second.  Devon still has 2 more months with them (I’m so jealous!), and she was even asked if she wanted to switch to another monastery (the one Anna and Farrah were at), but she immediately turned down this offer.  Despite how crazy they act, they are the sweetest, most loving boys.  And even though they don’t always show it, they have just as much love for us as we do for them.  I was unable to go to the monastery on Thursday, and they all kept asking Devon about me and wanting to know if I would be back to see them.  When I went on Friday, my last day, she surprised me with a booklet of letters and pictures she had them make when I wasn’t there.  They were so excited to give it to me, I had to fight back the tears.  Once again, there were a million hugs given that day, with the boys saying, “See you someday!”  I can only hope that the sentiment is true – that I will see them again someday. 

The entire experience, short as it was, has truly been one for which I will be eternally grateful.  The country, the culture, (some of) the food, and most of all, the people, have forever captured my heart.  Namaste for now, Nepal.  See you someday.

Wedding Crashers

Well, technically we were invited…kind of.  Friday, my last full day in KTM, was an official holiday for the country, as it was Day 7 of the festival of Dashain, which is a 15 day long festival celebrating the Goddess Durga and her victory over evil.  Thus, most of the volunteers were off work.  Because Dashain is a Hindu holiday, the monastery (which is Buddhist) was still open (luckily, so I could see my boys one last time!).  So Devon and I invited Andrew, Roseanne, and Liz to come to the monastery with us to meet the boys and play games (Friday Funday!).  I decided to ride on Andrew’s scooter with him, since my love affair with motorbikes will be coming to an end once I return stateside.  On their walk to the monastery, Devon and Roseanne ran into a large group heading to a wedding ceremony in the streets of Thamel.  They ended up talking to the father of the groom and an aunt, who insisted that they come back to the wedding after the monastery, and to bring friends.  A Nepalese wedding celebration? Yes please, count us in!

We got to the ceremony location around 1:30, and the party was still in full swing (although we missed the actual ceremony).  We were graciously welcomed by the father and aunt, and began to make more friends as the day went on.  The band was playing and we joined in the dancing (too bad Anna and I never finished our dance lessons, but the moves happening there were pretty awesome/hilarious/awful, so it wasn’t too hard for my horrid dance skills to fit in!).  Soon, we were told that it was time to leave the ceremony site and that we had to go with them back to the house.  So we did.  In parade fashion, we danced and walked through the streets of Thamel with the band and wedding guests, while the bride and groom (whose names we don’t even know) rode alongside us in a decorated car.  At the ceremony site, they had given us all tika blessings on our foreheads, so we (somewhat) looked like we could possibly fit in, except for the fact that most of us were in t-shirts/yoga pants/shorts, and the wedding guests were decked out – women in gorgeous red Nepali dresses (the traditional wedding outfit) and men in black suits.  Nevertheless, it was fun dancing and walking with them as people on the street took pictures and videos of the whole ordeal.  The parade basically took over the streets, so I didn’t have to worry about getting hit by a car or motorbike, just an instrument from a band member!  They would stop every so often at different intersections for the band to rock out and for us to dance around some more.  When we finally got to the house, the bride and groom got out and received some blessings at the front door.  Then we all headed upstairs and onto a terrace to hang out.  Somehow, when we decided it was time to leave, we instead got pulled into a room where the bride and groom sat receiving gifts and well-wishes from friends and family.  We were instructed to sit right near them on the couches and told to enjoy experiencing a Nepalese wedding.  Enjoy it we did.  Sadly, we did have to leave soon after so that I could get back to pack and head to the airport.  But it was definitely a fun, unexpected, random end to a fun, unexpected and random trip!

PIcture Perfect

Once again, I have to refer you to the other blogs for an account of our one and only weekend spent in KTM.  We finally had a night out, which was circumvented by our 10 pm curfew at the house, so nothing too crazy!  We also were lucky enough to have Bijaya take us shopping on Saturday to some of her favorite shops, and on Sunday we went on a “spice” tour of KTM, which didn’t actually involve many spices and was more just a tour of the city (or a small part of it at least).  Both days were mentally and physically draining, as the streets seemed more crowded and chaotic than usual, and I definitely got bumped twice by cars – once on the arm, once on the leg.  And as sweet as Bijaya is in trying to be helpful, she more or less just pulls me in different directions and through mud puddles as I trip over rocks and steps.  These two days are best summed up in the awesome pictures taken by Farrah, which can be found at:

http://farrahway.blogspot.com/

http://accidentalvoluntourist.blogspot.com/

Time Zones and Trekking Clothes

Here’s a fun fact: in theory, the world should be divided into 24 equal time zones.  However, Nepal is 10 hours and 45 minutes ahead of CST.  And it is 2 hours and 15 minutes behind Guangzhou, China.  So after some Googling (and finding multiple explanations), I have found that the top reasons for this seem to be either that 1) Nepal wanted to separate itself more from India, which runs on India Standard Time, and is also a half hour off of the 24 standard time zones, or 2) Nepal wanted to be really scientifically accurate and ensure that the sun is at the highest point in the sky at exactly noon.  Or it could be a completely different reason, but those were the two most prevalent that I found.  Regardless, Nepal is only one of 2 locations in the world (the Chatham Islands, a territory of New Zealand, being the other) that has either a 45 or 15 minute offset from the standard time zones.  There are several other places besides India that follow a half hour time difference from GMT, such as Sri Lanka, Afghanistan, Iran, Myanmar, Newfoundland, some regions of Australia, and Venezuela (which is only different because in 2007 Hugo Chavez randomly decided to turn the clocks back by a half hour).  I’m loving all these new world facts I’m learning here!

We had a ridiculously good dinner Friday night at Le Sherpa.  It was set way back off the road into a remote little garden area.  I also think the entire restaurant was filled with Westerners, so it was clearly a tourist spot – but still a sort of hidden tourist spot.  We shared a delicious cheese platter, and Farrah and I split the beef tenderloin and the braised rabbit ravioli.  I’m not sure how they got away with the whole beef thing, considering the fact that cows are sacred here and they don’t eat them.  Nevertheless, it was fantastic.  It was even good enough for real life, not just “for here,” as we have been referring to most things – whether it be food, drinks, or how we look on any given day (for example, the other day Anna told me, as a compliment, that I looked “almost normal,” and when I gave her a weird look, she quickly replied, “well, for here”).

With that being said, I never thought I would miss my hair dryer, flat iron and make-up so much!  And a razor.  The showers have been beyond cold for well over a week, so I don’t (can’t) stay in longer than necessary, which subsequently means I have gone over a week without shaving.  I feel super gross, and look even worse!  I also need to become a better packer.  Anna and Farrah look like cute, normal people here.  Thinking it was going to be hot the whole time, and also thinking back to the time I backpacked through Europe, I thought I was being smart “packing light” (despite the fact that my suitcase was completely full).  I needed to pack clothes which would cover my shoulders and knees.  This meant 2 below the knee skirts, 3 pairs of capris, and 8 semi-decent tops (actually 5 semi-decent tops, 3 are dri-fit shirts).  And 2 dresses, of which I have worn one exactly two times.  Zero jeans, zero remotely cute “going out” type outfits.  Big mistake.  I look like a legit trekker all day, every day.  And we all know this is the complete opposite of true.  Although the KEEN’s shoes that I purchased at REI before the trip (which I was planning on hopefully not wearing and returning upon coming home), have come in quite useful, what with all the rain and mud we walk through on a daily basis.  I’m at least getting some good wear out of them while I’m here, even if they end up sitting in my closet untouched for the next however many years.  This week, the weather has actually started to feel like fall, and I definitely wish I had some cute jeans and light sweaters!  I’m planning on leaving most of my clothes with the girls at the orphanage, mostly because they need clothes, but partly (and yes, selfishly) because I’m so sick of the ones I’ve been wearing!  OK, end of that rant, because aside from cold showers, lack of sleep, bugs (in my bed, in the kitchen, on my body), and not feeling/looking very pretty, I am really enjoying my stay here and am getting sad that I only have 5 days left!

Where The Streets Have No Name…

I love cardinal directions.  And maps.  And geography.  I get excited about studying maps and learning the layout of a new city and memorizing mass transit systems.  I’m usually pretty accurate in my navigational skills.  Sometimes I think I should have gone to school to study cartography or urban planning, but it’s a bit late for that now.  Despite not being able to drive (or not being able to even see what’s around me most of the time), I am typically the one people go to when wanting to get directions to a certain place.  I have a lot of difficulty in recognizing my skills and talents in life, but when it comes to this subject, I know and feel confident that it is something in which I excel.

And then I came to Kathmandu – where there are no street names, no addresses, and just an overall lack of urban planning!  This frustrates me…A LOT.  But I’m actually starting to get used to it (or maybe just starting to accept it?).  After 3 weeks, I am FINALLY recognizing some landmarks for both the motorbike ride to the orphanage and the walk to the monastery.  When we walk to the monastery, we make a left out of the house, a right at the first road, walk for a bit following the curve of the road, cross a really busy street, down a ramp to the left and then make a quick right, follow that around to the left, go straight for a bit, pass a school where the kids always yell to us, go through a huge section of always muddy road, cross a decent sized bridge over a river, pass a bar/pool hall on the left where everyone stares at us, pass what we call the sweatshop, cross a small footbridge over a smelly creek, make a left and climb a HUGE hill (think 7^th Street in Alton), walk 5 more minutes, arrive at construction site on left and climb over a bunch of rubble to enter monastery!  Success!  Although I could never do that without Devon, because I haven’t been able to pinpoint visible/physical markers for the turns that we make!  Plus there’s the whole not being able to get across the busy street thing on my own.

Because of this nerdy passion of mine, you can only imagine my delight when Santos and I decided to have a geography lesson, where he patiently tried to explain to me the locations of different areas and villages of Nepal, as well as the Nepali “address” system.  Like I said, there are no numbered addresses or street names.  Instead, places are just referred to by their neighborhood, and if further explanation is needed, the larger locality/area is used as well.  So the “address” of the volunteer house I am staying at is simply seen as: Meiphi 16, Nayabazar, Kathmandu.  Nayabazar refers to the larger neighborhood, with Meiphi referring to the immediate area surrounding the house.  The 16 is the ward number, as there are 35 wards within Kathmandu proper.  So if I wanted something delivered (mail, pizza, momos), I would have to add my name and phone number under the “address” in order for the delivery person to call me for more specific directions once in Meiphi.  Crazy.  Although there is central post office, so I know that many people will just use that for mail purposes.  He then tried to teach me about the address system for places outside KTM proper (such as Bakhtapur), but then it got even more confusing because they also have numbers, but those (I think) refer to the specific Village Development Committee, rather than a ward, so then you have to try to find out the zone, plus the larger neighborhood, smaller neighborhood, and village area.  I’m still really trying to understand it all!

Bottom line is that, sadly, my amazing directional skills are not universal for my traveling!  But I did spend the rest of that evening pouring over some maps of KTM and the surrounding areas in order to get a better understanding of where certain neighborhoods/places are located, so that was super fun for me!

Side note: I couldn’t figure out how to get text and pictures into the same post.  Although I feel that they are pretty self-explanatory:  the motorbike with Santos; the monks in their Gryffindor colored robes playing “Duck, Duck, Goose;” all masked up with Devon for the pollution and dust-filled walk to the monastery; and a few of the older girls from the orphanage.

A few pictures (without captions because I’m technologically challenged)!

Rice Belly and Random Thoughts

Devon and I saw our first blind person today – navigating the side of the street extremely well.  I was jealous.  And felt like a loser for not being able to get around here by myself.  She had to remind me that this is his turf and he is clearly used to the chaos.  I wish we had had time to watch him cross the street (and see if he did it on his own), because that would truly have been a feat!  

The kids are obsessed with my Fitbit.  I hope it still works when I get home.  They love tapping it (continually) and seeing it light up, even though they have no idea what I’m talking about when I try to explain the purpose of it.  At least I am hitting 10,000 steps a day (with the exception of travel days of sitting in the car), considering I haven’t done any other form of exercise since I have been here.  I can already feel my muscles starting to atrophy.  Can’t wait to get back to the kettlebells!

Let’s talk about the food.  Dal bhat is the main staple – most Nepalese people eat it twice a day – and Santos and Anish call it “24 Hour Power.”  I need more protein.  And vegetables.  My fruit and vegetable intake is limited to my daily banana at breakfast (with my white bread smothered in Fauxtella – super healthy) and some random cauliflower with dal bhat about 4 times per week.  This whole all carb, all the time thing is seriously depleting my energy and overall feeling of good health.  I definitely have “wheat belly,” although I suppose it would be more appropriate to call it “rice belly.”

Luckily, we have gone out to a few good dinners.  Both times we have hit the Funky Buddha I have ordered the same thing – chicken skewers with a peanut sauce and vegetable skewers – pretty darn close to Paleo! Yay!  Last night Andrew (one of the other volunteers in the house) took me, Devon, and Roseanne to the edge of KTM to the restaurant Newa Luhana in the Kirtipur neighborhood.  It was without a doubt the best restaurant we have been to thus far.  We sat outside on the roof of the building, on pillows on the floor (no table or chairs), with the lights of the Kathmandu Valley twinkling below.  We shared a jug of Chunga, a rice beer which tasted like a mix between Sake and Kombucha (yum).  We also asked the waiter to choose our meal, and ended up with buffalo tongue and spinal column, as well as some other buff and veggie dishes.  It was delicious.  Well, the texture of the spinal column was weird, but it had a good flavor.  And the tongue tasted like steak. Yum.  I still don’t know how I was a vegetarian for 6 years.  I was really missing out on life.  Meat is delicious.  Not to say I’m not enjoying all the carbs again, I definitely am.  The naan served with the chicken tikka masala at Kwality Foods Café (yes, they call it KFC) is ridiculously good.  And I’m loving the buff momos (steamed dumplings).  We’ve also had pizza a couple times – pretty good at Fire and Ice, and really gross at Rum Doodle.  I haven’t had black coffee in almost 3 weeks, instead I drink crazy sweet Nepali tea 4-5 times a day.  I’m definitely going to have to do the 21 Day Sugar Detox when I get home!  Speaking of meat, the first weekend I get home I will be heading to the Bend for the ND/USC game.  I can’t even express how excited I am for my first CJ’s burger in 7 years!  I’m getting hungry.  Time to go get some buff momos with my lunch buddy, Saurav!

Love and Marriage

Sorry Frank, but they do NOT always go together, especially in a place where arranged marriages are still common practice.  Although, from my probing more into the topic, those actually don’t sound all that bad!  First of all, it seems to start out as a simple “set up” by the 2 families, where the man and woman meet each other, can talk and get to know one another, and can “accept” or “deny” the other person as a potential life partner.  If they get along and feel a marriage will work, they accept.  If not, they move on to finding a new match!  I don’t think they do the typical “dating” as we know it, considering family is around most of the time, and traditional “rules” on the subject seem pretty strict.  While arranged marriage is still quite common, it is slowly changing as the younger generations are rebelling and wanting to choose their own partner and marry for love.  However, I was told that the divorce rate for “love” marriages is much higher than that of arranged marriages, mostly due to the fact that when problems arise in arranged marriages, the families are there providing support and guidance (and I would imagine a little bit of pressure!).  On the other hand, marriages entered into on their own for love are without as much family interference, and thus find less counsel provided when problems arise because of the absence of that original pact.

This is not to say that those who marry for love are shunned by their families, as most of them (from my understanding), will still take their significant other to meet their family first and see if their family is willing to accept that person.  Additionally, it is not to say that those in arranged marriages haven’t learned to fall in love and be happy.  Or perhaps there is just more of a willingness to accept the chance at happiness with that certain person who is presented to them, an acceptance of how life, love and marriage work here, where there is no need to explore and see if the grass is greener elsewhere.

I also learned that there are still 4 major caste systems in Nepal, and even those who marry for love will still only search for that love within their caste.  And forget about marrying outside of their religion (most are Hindu), as this will (in most cases) lead to being cut off from their families.  And family is DEFINITELY important here (which is awesome).  When people get married, the wife simply moves into her new husband’s home, with his parents, siblings, and other family members.  Instead of moving away from their parents, or sending their parents to nursing homes when they get older, they take care of each other, always.  Knowing that this is the norm in other cultures definitely makes me feel better about the fact that I live with my parents again!

After learning more about this topic, I can definitely appreciate and see the appeal of arranged marriages, as the familial acceptance and connection is such an important part of life here, and for good reason.  At this point in my life I’d probably be all for someone trying to arrange a marriage for me (particularly since I would still be able to “accept” or “deny”).   But it is also still hard to come to terms with the concept, particularly after growing up believing to have the freedom to date or marry whomever I choose, no matter their race, religion, or culture.  In actuality, my freedom is limited by the beliefs held by others, which makes me sad and also makes me realize how incredibly different and vast this world really is, no matter how many experiences lead us to believe that “it’s a small world after all.”