Monday, October 6th
—Nepalis ask Americans, who live in their community, “What is your Nepali name?” Just as it is often difficult for us to wrap our lips around a Nepali name, they stumble as they attempt to form the sounds that make up our names. Stew and I have simplified our American names to one syllable, but still, it takes a few attempts as Nepalis sound out our names and request that we repeat (“phery bolnus!”), in the hopes of pronouncing the syllable as Americans do. So, it is customary for an American living in Nepal to be given a Nepali name. When Stew and I noticed that more and more of the Peace Corps workers were showing up at Hub Day (the one day per week when we are all in the same classes) with Nepali names, we asked how this naming process occurred. We were told that some of them were given names by host families, some by Nepali friends, some chose a name themselves and some asked Nepalis for a name. Our host family rarely uses given names (they call each other by kinship); our only Nepali friends are Peace Corps volunteers and staff; we had no inclination to select a Nepali name on our own; and it just felt weird to ask someone to give us a name. So, we kinda gave up on the Nepali name idea and when asked for our Nepali name, answered, “Mero Nepali naam hoina”.(I don’t have a Nepali name) But, last week, it happened. We were given Nepali names by one of the language instructors. Stew’s is “Jesz”, which is the name of a friend of the instructor, who always makes her happy….Stew has similar personality traits and reminds her of her friend. Mine is “Kiran”(In Nepali, it sounds like: Key-run…with a little roll to the ‘R’), which means ‘ray of light’. I’m glad it took time for the correct names to appear. It was worth the wait. They hold more meaning for us and were given to us by an amazing woman, who we will remember forever.
Sunday, October 12th
—Respiratory disease is one of the biggest killers in Nepal. Second hand smoke comes in more forms than smoke from cigarettes. In Nepal, the majority of second hand smoke comes from kitchen wood stoves. Most kitchen stoves don’t have chimneys, so as folks cook here, smoke often fills the kitchen and cancers people to death.
Today in technical class, we took part in making of our first ‘Improved Cook Stove’. Our host family received the Stove built for our Peace Corps’ training. Our family broke down their current kitchen stove this morning, and then our cluster (local village training group of five) began work on the new stove at around 11am. The bricks for the skeleton of the stove were made a couple of weeks back professionally, so we made a few for practice (but couldn’t use them because they must dry 5-7 days, before being used on the actual stove. Then we made the mortar, which is made from five parts mud, two parts rice husks, and one part Gobar ….. what’s Gobar, you ask?…. well…..yeah….what is covering my hands up to the elbow and smooshing between my toes? That, my friends, is Water Buffalo shit. That’s right, we have been doused in buffalo shit water. BUT, in two weeks, after the stove dries, our host family will have an improved cook stove and a smokeless kitchen. That’s worth some water buffalo shit between the toes, right?
Stew, caked with buffalo dung, also managed to use a VERY large knife (about 15 times heavier than you’re thinking. Think half a lawn mower blade long, and thrice as thick) to slice his finger. Vee provided excellent first aid. Stew was very happy with the care he received. Now he’s attempting to prevent infection and blood loss by pointing at the sky and keeping his hand well above his heart.
We appreciated the day, but boy it’s been a long one.
In addition to a great learning day, this morning we looked over after class to find the Himalayas out in full view for the first time. It’s pretty crazy to look over and see a looming range filling half the sky, and know how far off it is. This place is insane to look at. Beauty everywhere… Except Stew’s finger… that’s just gross.
Tuesday, October 14th
Happy Birthday, Baby Girl!! (it is Monday, October 13th in the U.S.)
We are all sitting in the dining room of the motel, where Peace Corps volunteers meet once a week for ‘whole group’ training. Nothing was planned this afternoon. Many of us came here in the hopes of internet access; some came to dig cold weather clothes from their deep storage bags (It is getting cooler and our winter clothes are stored here in a motel room); a few came by because they got soaked while doing an outdoor assignment in the nearby Bazaar(marketplace) and the motel was closer than home. We’ve got a big thunder boomer going on outside, so….no internet……no electricity…..but, great company sharing snack-size American candies (care packages from home), eating yummy hot cup-a-soup, and drinking Dude Chia(spiced tea with milk). Lots of wet people laughing together…..sitting at long tables….studying….sharing stories. Good times. Hope the storm lets up before long, though. Most of us have to make quite a hike up muddy paths to get home (Bistaari!! Chiplo!!”Walk slowly! It’s slippery!))….and an early curfew. Picture a bunch of Americans slip-sliding through ankle deep mud, as they rush up hills looking left and right for Leopards, to a chorus of Nepalis standing outside their homes yelling “Bistaari! Chiplo!!”
Wednesday, October 15th
We made our first foray out of our village today. We split up, health sector volunteers took a bus to the District Health Center, while the agriculture sector volunteers visited the district agricultural center. Vee’s group discussed the structure of the health system with a Nepali who spoke English. Stew’s group talked with some of the chief agricultural officers through one of PC’s interpreters.
It is very strange to speak English, which is often understood, but not spoken here. Still, it is even stranger to have Nepali spoken, and then translated by an English speaking Nepali. Layers upon layers of communication issues……Kinda like playing a game of ‘telephone’. I’ve always respected translators, but the PC experience has increased the depth of my compassion for their difficult job. People are hard enough to understand as-is, but add a different language to that… ugh.
The trip to and from the district center had extreme curves, steep side drop-offs and tons of breath-taking near misses from busses and trucks passing each other on narrow roads with motorcycles in between zipping in and out of each lane. If you got bored of that, you might watch the Himalayan line up stretching forever across the North. Or the abandoned festival swings (Ping) hanging from long bamboo poles, or the people waiting for busses, or the planted terraces contouring the mountains, or the prayer flags slowly dethreading to heaven…
Such a strange, lovely place.
Thursday, October 16th
Hubday! Today is site announcement. This means that all 30 of us find out where, in Nepal, we will be sent…..after we make it through basic training and are sworn in next month….(around November 17th). Very exciting! Some are going to the Midwestern districts….some are going to the Far West, which is like…..a 3-4 day rough bus ride to reach from here (even though we are currently in the Western part of Nepal and Nepal is the about the size of Tennessee). We are all so very excited!
Later…same day
We now have our assignments. We can’t put the exact locations on-line (for security reasons), but we are very very happy and our new home is not too far from Pokhara (one of Nepals largest cities). A beautiful place….we hear. Vee will be working at a health post and Stew will be working at an agriculture center. We may have an opportunity to work with schools, farmers and mothers’ groups…..we’ll see. But, for now, we have a location for our next two years. Whoa.
We got our first care package today……filled with goodies. The weird thing is that the items I think I was most excited about were the packing material (crumbled paper towels….whoot!!) and a ziplock bag stuffed with those small condiment packs you find in fast food restaurants. Oh mi Gawd……ketchup….mustard….bbq sauces…..vinegar……American things I miss most. I think I would be happy with a care package full of only condiment packs snuggled in paper towels. This Nepali me is odd.
Category: Daily Issues
The amazingness of the mundane
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Snipets of Carrington diary….
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The Baagh Ate My Letter to You…
Baagh: The Nepali word for Leopards. (which have been seen in our village recently. Sightings have resulted in an earlier curfew for the “Americans”. It is now 5:30 pm.) Apologies for ignoring all of you for so long. We’ve hit the one month mark of living in Nepal. Our internet access has been pretty spotty. But, even if we had non-stop internet access, we have very little free time. We have Nepali language classes, technical training and cultural classes each school day. In Nepal, the work/school week is six days per week, with Saturday being the day of rest (bida). What free time we have is spent studying (vocabulary, verb conjugation, and Nepal script writing), integrating into the Nepali community (seeking out situations to interact with others using our Nepal language skills), and doing chores like washing clothes (lugar dhune….which is done by hand in buckets of water). We expect to have better internet access and more time to blog after the end of our pre-service training. (about six more weeks) The intense-ness of the Peace Corps training cannot be denied. A huge amount of information is poured into our brains each day, with little time to process or practice, then the next day…..additional new information is shoved into our already full brains. But it isn’t all mentally taxing. There are physical requirements also. Our morning classes take place near our homes, but the afternoon classes are normally a 20 to 50 minute walk/hike away from our little village…..around bends and up hills. Late afternoon, we are charged with interacting with people in the village and finally after curfew, we rest, while practicing our Nepali with our host family. The schedule can be brutal. However, every once in a while, we look up from our daily rush and are stunned to a halt by awe-inspiring views. Amazing architecture will catch our eye or sometimes beautiful terraced farmland and of course…..a peek of the Himalayas on a clear day. We are finding it hard to write about our experiences here. We will type something, then reread it and delete it. There are occurrences that happen to us often that words can’t seem to express. It is similar to what people experience, when they attempt to replicate a gorgeous view with a camera…..only to realize the beauty and emotion invoked by the view cannot be translated to a photograph. And yet, we want to document and share our experiences, so we will write and photograph our life here. Hopefully, some will see past our clumsy writing to the beauty of Nepal and her people. However, a disclaimer must be provided. The description of our experiences here should not be taken as what others would experience in this land. The people of Nepal are diverse. What we experience daily in our pre-service training here in this part of Nepal will most likely be different from what we experience over the next two years at our permanent site in a different part of Nepal. Even in this small area where the Peace Corps group 201 live close together, each volunteer speaks of different host family behaviors. So, if you speak of what you read here, please don’t generalize the description or behavior as, “Well I’ve heard that in Nepal….the people are….(fill in the blank)”. What can we say about the land, the people, our experiences as foreigners in this lovely country? Nepalis are a people, rich in culture, steeped in tradition, who we find utterly fascinating. Apparently they find us fascinating also. They stare at us constantly, while we try to
stare back, but can’t. Our Nepali is still so elementary that the majority of our interactions begin and quickly end with only the greeting, “Namaste”, which everyone we pass on the road seems thrilled with. As we walk down the road, the adults we ‘Namaste’ often stop us and ask where we have been or where we are going. As we walk down the road, the children yell at us from far away and come running up to follow us asking, “What is your name?”, “Where do you come from?”, or just “Hello…hello….hello!”. Now that most of the children know our names, they yell, “Hello Stewart! Hello Vee!” During our walk home from class each day, we will look back every few minutes to see a growing crowd of children marching behind us. Many of the school kids want to practice their English with us. Many, who know we have cell phone cameras, want to have their picture taken, so they can take a peek at the photo and giggle with their friends. We, may, hopefully, have better internet access from now on. Our host family is working on getting dependable internet here in the house. That would be utterly amazing. (course we would still be limited by the number of hours per day we have electricity, which is kinda undependable….but I’m excited anyway) Without internet…..not only have we been out of touch with family and friends…….we have had little to no information about world events…..which has been a very, very strange experience. -
It Takes a Village (No Goat Left Behind)
The first week we came to school, our tiny classroom sat surrounded by corn fields and was accessed by a claustrophobic tunnel under towering cornstalks that were bracketing an old house and barn. We would arrive, unlock and draw the door bolts (there are no doorknobs here), take our shoes off in the hallway, and enter the concrete room. The initial musty smell would mostly dispel when the glassless/screenless windows were opened, and inevitably someone would be walking by so you could catch a quick, “Namaste” or groggy, “Morning” as the shutters were pushed out.
In the few weeks we’ve been here, the corn has been cut down. Now the classroom entrance is exposed, and the trail leading to it is just a seemingly random path jutting from the road. The monsoon is receding and the roads and paths are drying.
Regardless the weather; hot, humid, rain, or clear……. children and goats bleat and chatter with one another outside our class, screaming, crying, and laughing until an odd silence hits. Then, we’ll hear a small scrape behind us, and then a sniff as first one child, and then another climbs up to sit in the windowsills. When our teacher (known as ‘Master’ in Nepal) asks us questions in Nepali, the children murmur answers in our ears while coughing on our shoulders.
The teacher tells them to get out of the window, and they scramble down… just in time for the goat to meander in, sniffing a few students before meandering back out again. By the time the goat disappears, new children have established territory on the windowsills. These interuptions are welcome distractions from the incessant pounding of Nepali verb conjugations. Every once in a while, the teacher pauses in his lecture to stop one of the hajuramaas (grandmothers) passing by the windows, a quick question about the content of his lecture, to which they provide a rapid-fire response and typically leave him laughing. Someday, perhaps we’ll understand the joke.
The monsoon is receding and the roads are drying. Winter is coming. Namaste, friends and family. -
We’ve Been Given a Home Where the Buffalo Roam…
It is 4:20 in the morning. A gentle rain has been holding steady since 3, and I have reason to believe that one of the many pigeons outside the window is snoring… as I should be….
… On the last leg of our flight to Nepal, we reviewed our extraordinarily limited Nepalese, visited with tourists from Indonesia, and slowly woke from our jet-lagged stupor. Twenty-two hours in the air with in-between times spent in airports since Friday had been taking its toll. However, when we descended close enough to catch glimpses of our home for the next 27 months…..it made up for all the travel torture. Thirty-one friends who were strangers just a few days earlier squished together to peek out the small airplane windows. There was a stunned silence on the plane, broken every once in a while by a whispered voices saying, “Oh my God”, “We’re finally here.”, “I can’t believe it.” There was cheering and clapping upon landing and thirty-one tired, but enthusiastic smiles broke out.
A staircase was wheeled out to meet our small plane as we all fought to see, smell, and hear our new home. Nepal does smell different, similar to Southern Louisiana, but … well… more Nepali. Musty and humid heat greeted us between the plane and bus that taxied us back to the airport building. Upon entry, we were given Khatas (a ceremonial scarf) and met by the United States’ Nepali Ambassador Peter Bodde, his wife, and the staff of Peace Corps Nepal. As the dignitaries welcomed us, we were surprised that they seemed to know who all of us were and details of our background, such as where we were from and what schools we went to.
The airport was small for being so busy, and had a great feel of historical preservation with gorgeous woodwork everywhere. We posed for pictures, and then nervously waited at the baggage turnstile for our bags (last seen in Chicago, well before the transfer between United and Silk air lines). Luggage gradually appeared, and relieved Peace Corps Trainees (PCT) were shepherded through customs and out into the bright Nepali air.
We filled one small bus with our luggage before filling two more with PCTs. Some of us pulled cameras out, while the rest of us stared, eyes wide, out the bus windows traveling through the Kathmandu streets with little interplay between us and the Peace Corps staff riding on the bus with us…these strangers to whose care we had blindly entrusted ourselves and our belongings. It was awesome.
The bus trip was short but intense, providing some of the best ‘opportunities lost’ for picture after picture, due to window reflections, sudden swerving, abrupt stops, and enormous potholes. The people are gorgeous here. The architecture is unreal and spectacular in its decay, growth, and detail. The area is also verdant in super greens, glowing in the healthy plants growing from balconies and vacant lots jutting from overworked constructions. Sometimes we could see these spaces occupied with cattle, goats, or the occasional harried looking chicken.
The bus dropped us off at a training compound for the duration (five days) of orientation in a ‘suburb’ of Kathmandu. We have a room above the mens’ dorms, overlooking a small green space (with up to 4 cows), a beauty school, and a number of houses. One building across from our room window provides morning dance exercise… starting around 5A.M. every morning, and is very loud. So far, however, I’ve been waking up well before they start, so have been groggily watching them arrive before sun up, joining in a few motions before heading into the shower, and then watching them leave in the early dawn.
The crickets sound strange here and the corvids are not the same at all. They have grey hoods and are very (Very) large. Possibly Jack-Daws. We’ve also seen lizards, small spiders, many different birds, goats, chickens, cattle, and small white nocturnal animals that are jumpers. The rest of our group has seen big snakes and rats…..one that emerged from the toilet just as the volunteer entered the ‘charpi’(bathroom) There are a great many doves (pigeons) that roost around our windows, and we constantly hear them when in our room.
We’re hoping they keep the spider population down.
The Nepali people are as curious about us as we are of them, we have been exchanging stares, smiles, and “Namastes”, while observing and listening to this culture, so new to us. I think I see a strong relationship evolving with these wonderful people in the future.
This first week, we’ve learned how to use an eastern toilet, how to discretely bathe at a public tap, and how to wash tons of laundry by hand. Our awareness of the value of clean water has increased tenfold as we’ve learned to avoid letting any unfiltered water pass our lips. No drinking tap water, no eating fruit that might have been washed in tap water, and…..no brushing our teeth with tap water (tap water can’t even be used to rinse our brushes). We are adapting as quickly as possible to the Nepali world. Progress seems slow at times (especially learning the language), but we are actually moving at a quick clip toward integration. Today’s accomplishment was giving up silverware. We will often eat with just our right hand fingers during the rest of our stay in Nepal.
Today we also found out where we will be living for the next nine weeks and who will be in our cluster (the five of the 31 Peace Corps Volunteers who we will work closely with, through the rest of PST). On Friday afternoon, all of us will travel on the winding mountain road to our training site (it has been suggested that we take motion sickness pills for the trip if we even think we might need them) and meet our pre service training host families. Our particular host family consists of six family members, some who are vegetarians( a lottery win for us). Their home is 2.5 km from the training site. They own four water buffalo and five goats. We’re hoping to be able to say a few sentences to them by the time we meet. In our present state….that’s a very high hope.
Greetings from Nepal, y’all! Namaste!
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I’m from Jersey. Are you from Jersey?
I’ve never really met many people who have been to Nepal. Well, at least that was true before Stewart and I received notice that we were being sent to Nepal. Since we’ve received our Peace Corps assignment, people who have traveled to Nepal have been coming out of the woodwork to cross our paths. Seriously, last night alone at a party we attended, we met two different guys who have spent extended periods in Nepal. One was a student during the early 2000s, when he did research in Nepal (something to do with the gurkhas). I don’t remember how long he said he was there, but I do remember he said he was fucked up the first few months…because there was ‘some gooood shit’ over there. (uncertain what the shit was or what made it good….but, I smiled and nodded anyway) The second fellow was a member of the British military placed in Nepal. That was in 2003…..when the Maoists were beginning to up their game. (Wow! Did he have some interesting stories) Yep….now….everywhere we go, we hear, “Ah, Nepal….yes….I have fond memories of my time in Nepal.” I wonder if it is kinda like that weird car phenomenon…..you know the one….where after you buy a certain color/model of vehicle(which you’ve never noticed on the road before)….you start seeing that car everywhere.
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Deep in the Midst of Sorting and Packing
Stewart and I have moved a lot…no seriously…..a lot. In the almost 18 years we’ve been together (What? 18 years? Seriously? No way! Those years zipped by), we’ve moved thirteen times. We’ve lived in four major urban areas including Denver, Tucson, Portland, and Seattle and in one rural area on the Olympic Peninsula (outside Port Townsend). Trust me…we know how to sort, pack and move. We got this.
But, this sorting/packing experience is totally different from the others. An extremely small amount of our ‘stuff’ is going with us, a max of 100 lbs. each, to be exact. This time when we hold an item in our hand before sorting it into a toss/sell/keep category, we must determine 1. Will we need it in Nepal?, 2. Is it something that we cannot take with us, but cannot bear to let go of? (mostly family heirlooms) and 3. If we keep it, where will it stay until we return to the States?(no moving van or storage rental involved on this one…very very few items will be kept in nooks and crannies of family members’ homes)
Stew said it feels as if we are preparing for death. Kinda gruesome…but, a true description of the emotions involved in this experience.
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Living in Limbo….the busiest limbo evar
Transitions, even good transitions are difficult. You’re floating in that limbo between what was and what will be for a while…..your conscious and subconscious tripping over each other at odd moments.
The last few mornings, I’ve slowly eased into consciousness without an alarm, realizing that my unconscious self was hard at work…on some school project that’s finished, submitted and requires no further thought. “Let it go, already! My god, if you aren’t going to come up with some amazing intuitive brilliance to contribute toward the future, you could at least relax and think about lollipops and rainbows or some such shit.”
Then the unknown future will hit me at strange times in peculiar ways, like when I’m reading the blog of one of my ‘University student Peace Corps’ compatriots, as she describes getting rid of everything she owns in anticipation of leaving the country next week…..and I realize I’m hyperventilating. “What the Hell? Get a grip! Pull yourself together!”
Even the present is attacking me in this limbo land…..last night after giving the grandsons hugs and heading toward the car, my eyes started watering. “Oh fer Pete’s sake…..are ya gonna cry the rest of the summer? Man up! You got shit to get done!”
We do have a lot to do……and very little time for whining and moping and daydreaming. The list is long and everything falls under four headings:
1. To be done before our Nashville trip: Two weeks spent in Nashville with my Mom, during which Stew and I will also see my three brothers. All four of us live in different states, so it’s been…..I don’t know how long…..since we’ve all been in the same place at the same time.
2. To be done before our lease is up: Our apartment lease is up July 31st. Everything we plan on keeping must be accounted for at that time (all else will be gone). We will be homeless between that date and September 5th when we fly to ‘Peace Corps Staging’.
3. To be done before our coast to coast to coast trip: While we are homeless, we will be making the trek cross country to Boston and back. Our kittens will be living near Boston during the two years we are out of the country…..but, Peace Corps will be flying us out of Seattle in September. So, we will make a road trip to the East Coast and back to the West Coast in August……stopping along the way for photo ops of our favorite U.S. places…and favorite U.S. people (let us know if you’ve got time and would like us to stop by to see you, your location may be near our cross country path).
4. To be done before staging: Peace Corps staging happens on September 5th, 2014. That is the day we meet(at an undisclosed location) with the rest of our group heading to Nepal…get a few extra immunizations…fill out forms….and all board a plane to Asia. All ‘I’s must be dotted and all‘t’s crossed. School stuff…..legal stuff….informational stuff….(all the stuff needed to be completed before we head into the wild blue yonder)
Yeah…zero hour is fast approaching. Tons to get done! Focus!
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Dick’s Deluxe
We don’t live in Beverly Hills of Seattle, but when 7 police cars pulled a truck over (“Driver… place your hands where we can see them”), it piqued the neighborhood’s curiosity. Nary an empty balcony in the complex.
A bit far off for clarity, but at least we have a good solid on Dick’s Deluxe.
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Comments we’ve heard since attempting to find foster care for our cats
“How’d you get so many cats? Aren’t you afraid of turning into one of those crazy cat people?”
Desmond as a Kitten We’ve never actually sought out a feline child. But, if a kitten in need has shown up on our door step and there was ‘room at the inn’, we’ve done what we could to give them a hand.
Our past is filled with animal antidotes … the emaciated campground cat we canceled our vacation for…in order to get to the veterinary urgent care; the two feral cats who welcomed our food and make-shift shelters during their twilight years, but never allowed us to touch them; and the many cats we fostered (often during brutal winter weather) until a permanent home could be found for them. Although no longer with us, I miss every one of those feline friends. But, we’ve never taken in more than we could care for … so, no … not crazy. Well … not crazy in that manner.
HarLee as a Kitten Our current furry kids all came to us while we were farming in Port Townsend. Desmond and Harlee were siblings we took in as part of a deal with our neighbors. If they would spay and neuter their farm cats, then we would take in their last litter. Gus, on the other hand, was already a young adult when he began appearing around our farmland. We assumed he was a ‘boarder’ at one of the neighbor’s homes. Whenever we saw him from afar, we’d talk to him and he would meow in response, but he kept his distance until one day when he showed up wounded on our door step, all skin and bones and unable to walk on one foot.
We asked around the neighborhood searching for his human family, but no one claimed the little guy, so we took him to the pet doctor for treatment and a ‘microchip check’(none found). In the weeks following, as we nursed him to health, Gus quickly let us know he was a domesticated cat, who expected to be allowed an indoor sleeping room at night. He has been with us since.
“Maybe you shouldn’t be leaving the country, if you have feline responsibilities.”
A Young Gus Well…ouch…that one hurt. But, we totally get it. And we do see them as our responsibility. They are important to us. We love them. And please trust me when I say we are struggling with the thought of leaving our small companions in the care of others for over two years….especially when we know there is no way to explain to them that we are coming back for them. We are not ‘dumping’ or ‘abandoning’ them. We are trying to find another responsible person to care for them while we are out of the country.
Both Stew and I let intuition guide us. When we do so, things work out right and blocked paths become cleared. I have no explanation for it….but, it happens. The decision to go into Peace Corps came from nowhere and hit both of us at the same time. It was actually a little shocking to bring the subject up and find our partner having the same thoughts. Since that decision, we have been propelled quickly down a path that should have held multiple ‘stoppers’ and taken longer…..but didn’t. It is happening so fast, we can only feel it is the right direction for us to take. We are both extremely anxiety ridden about how we can make sure our babies will remain safe, while we are out of the country. But, I can’t help but believe someone out there is going to shelter our children. I know we have adjusted our lives to make room for furry kids in the past….and will most likely do it in the future. We are certainly nothing special….so, it stands to reason there are others out there willing to help us out for a couple years.
Bela, Desmond, Boo, HarLee, and Finn wondering what’s going on outside the window…
