Thursday, July 30, 2009
The Last Day
On this, the last day of the program, I find myself thinking about anything but the end of the program: finishing my papers, buying gifts for everyone, both here and back home and preparing to go trekking.It's natural, of course, to be caught up in the day-to-day details and only think about the experience as a whole when you are out of that environment. But, considering all the things that made life so difficult in this country, I have been struck by the fact that we are leaving, leaving all of it behind and all the people we have met here will continue their lives, with all the frustrations and obstacles that we all complained about for two months. This is by no means a novel observation: observant travellers always remember how lucky they are to have the option to move away from a life that is difficult. Even when experiencing all the traffic and pollution and trash and bandhs here, we always kept in mind that we were leaving on a certain date and would never have to deal with it all again. This will be foremost on my mind as I take off from Tribhuvan and look at KTM one last time.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
FROM SOUTH TO SOUTH
If there is something that I find positive about globalization, it is the fact that now Southern countries can share experiences and solutions to their problems without being mediated by the North. Coming from another Southern part of the world –Latin America-, I have been thinking a lot about experiences from there that are relevant to the current Nepali debate.
Bolivia is the most similar South American country to Nepal. Both share some sad figures and facts regarding social and economic development. They have a very short (and weak) democratic background and have historically been regarded as “failed states”. Even geographically, they are very similar: both have landlocked and mountainous territories. But, above all, they are multicultural, multiethnic and multilingual countries with a huge part of their populations remaining marginalized. For a historic coincidence, these two countries also began a political process to change this situation almost simultaneously.
After decades of being seen as the poor and unstable neighbor of the region, Bolivia is becoming to change this image. And part of it is related to the political process that started after President Evo Morales’ electoral victory in 2005.
Before becoming the head of state of Bolivia, Morales was the leader of the “cocaleros” movement, a coca leaf-growing peasants union that resisted the “Plan Dignity” implemented in 1995 to eradicate the coca plantations. Morales’ party, the MAS (Movimiento al Socialismo –Movement To Socialism), won the general elections promising the decriminalization of the production of coca for domestic use –closely related to the traditions of the indigenous populations-, a land reform, and the renationalization of the oil and gas industries privatized during the 1990’s.
It is impossible to understand Morales’ political rise without an overview of Bolivia’s history. Probably, only a few Latin American oligarchies have been as dominant as the Bolivian one. A small minority group of European descendant has controlled the political, economic and cultural spheres since the country independence, 200 years ago. Behind this supremacy were some racist prejudices against the indigenous majority that makes up 60% of the Bolivians. The original population was historically marginalized and excluded from all decision-making spaces until the victory of Morales.
After years of a severe social crisis that included ethnic backlashes, Bolivia was in need of formulating a new social agreement. And what is a constitution if not a pact among all the social groups to regulate their life in a shared territory?
A Constitutional Assembly was created with this purpose in 2006. The only key for its success was to write a constitution that for the first time was going to leave behind the practices that have aggravated marginalization. After working for almost two years, the text was approved by 61% of the population in a national referendum.
The new constitution strengthens the position of the indigenous population, reinforces the role of the state in the economy and recognizes an autonomic state at the departmental, municipal and indigenous level. The constitutional text dedicates a whole chapter to the rights of the indigenous populations; it defines a quota for them in the Parliament, recognizes indigenous forms of justice and assures their presence in the Constitutional Court. Moreover, it declares Bolivia as a Plurinational State and abolishes Catholicism as the national religion.
The Bolivian experience does not prove that a new Constitution can produce a radical change from one day to another. However, some progress in the integration of the indigenous population already shows that it can represent a step toward; especially, if the constitution represents a national agreement to avoid exclusion and shorten the social, geographical and ethnic distances of the past.
Bolivia is the most similar South American country to Nepal. Both share some sad figures and facts regarding social and economic development. They have a very short (and weak) democratic background and have historically been regarded as “failed states”. Even geographically, they are very similar: both have landlocked and mountainous territories. But, above all, they are multicultural, multiethnic and multilingual countries with a huge part of their populations remaining marginalized. For a historic coincidence, these two countries also began a political process to change this situation almost simultaneously.
After decades of being seen as the poor and unstable neighbor of the region, Bolivia is becoming to change this image. And part of it is related to the political process that started after President Evo Morales’ electoral victory in 2005.
Before becoming the head of state of Bolivia, Morales was the leader of the “cocaleros” movement, a coca leaf-growing peasants union that resisted the “Plan Dignity” implemented in 1995 to eradicate the coca plantations. Morales’ party, the MAS (Movimiento al Socialismo –Movement To Socialism), won the general elections promising the decriminalization of the production of coca for domestic use –closely related to the traditions of the indigenous populations-, a land reform, and the renationalization of the oil and gas industries privatized during the 1990’s.
It is impossible to understand Morales’ political rise without an overview of Bolivia’s history. Probably, only a few Latin American oligarchies have been as dominant as the Bolivian one. A small minority group of European descendant has controlled the political, economic and cultural spheres since the country independence, 200 years ago. Behind this supremacy were some racist prejudices against the indigenous majority that makes up 60% of the Bolivians. The original population was historically marginalized and excluded from all decision-making spaces until the victory of Morales.
After years of a severe social crisis that included ethnic backlashes, Bolivia was in need of formulating a new social agreement. And what is a constitution if not a pact among all the social groups to regulate their life in a shared territory?
A Constitutional Assembly was created with this purpose in 2006. The only key for its success was to write a constitution that for the first time was going to leave behind the practices that have aggravated marginalization. After working for almost two years, the text was approved by 61% of the population in a national referendum.
The new constitution strengthens the position of the indigenous population, reinforces the role of the state in the economy and recognizes an autonomic state at the departmental, municipal and indigenous level. The constitutional text dedicates a whole chapter to the rights of the indigenous populations; it defines a quota for them in the Parliament, recognizes indigenous forms of justice and assures their presence in the Constitutional Court. Moreover, it declares Bolivia as a Plurinational State and abolishes Catholicism as the national religion.
The Bolivian experience does not prove that a new Constitution can produce a radical change from one day to another. However, some progress in the integration of the indigenous population already shows that it can represent a step toward; especially, if the constitution represents a national agreement to avoid exclusion and shorten the social, geographical and ethnic distances of the past.
Wednesday, July 22, 2009
Deurali pictures 2
Talking with Dalit women about water issues
Visiting the school
Jenny with the water group
Police and army talking to me in front of their post- taken from behind to avoid any issues.
Getting fresh honey for us
The heat was brutal
Home for a couple daysInside development or Can rats be post-conflict?
Jenny and I went to the village of Deurali to do some fieldwork. The population is about 200 people and it is clear they have seen no tourists since the conflict, and before that, they were sparse. Because of a “light” bandh we were stuck at Bengas Lake for most of the first day. The lake and its environs were beautiful and reminded me of Southeast Asia with the rice paddies and subtropical plants. Or perhaps it was the oppressive heat. Eventually we made it on to a bus accompanied by our host for the next few days, Prakash, an impressive young man who started a private school a few years ago, and now has upwards of 120 students. The road became gravel, which became stone, which became a rutted, grooved path to the top of the mountain. It was an occasionally harrowing, slow, bumpy ride up a narrow mountain road- and when I say slow I mean not over 10mph and stopping often to let people on and off. The heat inside the bus was indescribable as even Nepali’s began to sweat. Then the woman beside me began to throw up. Character building. Then we arrived at the village, which sits at the top of a plateau in the jungle. It was extremely lush with some of the thickest virgin forest I have ever seen. Deurali can be quite isolated during the monsoon season because the road is not passable when it rains too much. Unfortunately, for the farmers this has been a dry monsoon season but it does mean the road is open.
Then we hiked uphill about five minutes to Prakash’s house that he shares with his great grandmother, grandmother, father, his wife, and niece.
The house is modest with clay floors and is adjoined with the barn where the goats and ox live. We spend the evening talking with the family and seeing the school that Prakash is principal of, and then we were taken on a hike up the mountain and into the village. Dinner was good dhal bhat and takaari followed by bed under our mosquito nets
The next day Prujol, Prakash’s brother, had a full day planned for us:
7:00am- A meeting led by Jenny with the Water Management Council. This village did not have electricity until 5 years ago and now is a success story with clean water and toilets. Before that, people used the bathroom in the jungle and had to walk hours to collect their water. With their village and others working together along with an INGO they now have 30 faucets with clean spring water flowing from them. This spirit of collectivism and cooperation was clearly very strong, and I found it quite inspiring. At the end of the meeting, we were given gifts of organic coffee that the village is now able to grow due to these water projects.
8:30am- We were brought up to the police post, which was attacked and held by the Maoists for 5 years. A crowd gathered and I was able to conduct my mini-truth commission as people related their tales- specifically of the night the Maoists took over the barracks.
This village was highly affected by the conflict. The family we stayed with was forced to house and feed Maoists fighters on many occasions, and had some harrowing tales to share with us.
We then went with an organic honey farmer who was proud to give us a taste straight from the hive. It was the best honey either Jenny or I had tasted before. Or we were just blinded by the village loveliness. Or by the brutal jungle sun.
After that, we had breakfast and visited the school Prakash runs. This was followed by an all-afternoon hike with Prujol to visit different villages, from Gurung to Dalit. The people were open and happy to answer any of our questions.
Finally, we hung out in the village and went to a small festival. We were given dinner and all of us shared a massive tasty jackfruit.
Jenny and I then retired to our digs where on this night we were entertained by a family of massive rats running around our room. These were most certainly post-conflict rats, as they seemed content to just run around us but not to jump on us. We appreciated this and eventually the rain drowned out the sounds of their squeals and we passed out.
The next day we chased the bus down the mountain, and it brought us dirty but very content back to Pokhara, with a much clearer picture of what bikas in rural Nepal looks like.
Deurali
Up to our house for the next two days
This young lady was gracious enough to share her home with us
The school that Prakash runs
Himalayas over the jungle- enough said
Then we hiked uphill about five minutes to Prakash’s house that he shares with his great grandmother, grandmother, father, his wife, and niece.
The house is modest with clay floors and is adjoined with the barn where the goats and ox live. We spend the evening talking with the family and seeing the school that Prakash is principal of, and then we were taken on a hike up the mountain and into the village. Dinner was good dhal bhat and takaari followed by bed under our mosquito nets
The next day Prujol, Prakash’s brother, had a full day planned for us:
7:00am- A meeting led by Jenny with the Water Management Council. This village did not have electricity until 5 years ago and now is a success story with clean water and toilets. Before that, people used the bathroom in the jungle and had to walk hours to collect their water. With their village and others working together along with an INGO they now have 30 faucets with clean spring water flowing from them. This spirit of collectivism and cooperation was clearly very strong, and I found it quite inspiring. At the end of the meeting, we were given gifts of organic coffee that the village is now able to grow due to these water projects.
8:30am- We were brought up to the police post, which was attacked and held by the Maoists for 5 years. A crowd gathered and I was able to conduct my mini-truth commission as people related their tales- specifically of the night the Maoists took over the barracks.
This village was highly affected by the conflict. The family we stayed with was forced to house and feed Maoists fighters on many occasions, and had some harrowing tales to share with us.
We then went with an organic honey farmer who was proud to give us a taste straight from the hive. It was the best honey either Jenny or I had tasted before. Or we were just blinded by the village loveliness. Or by the brutal jungle sun.
After that, we had breakfast and visited the school Prakash runs. This was followed by an all-afternoon hike with Prujol to visit different villages, from Gurung to Dalit. The people were open and happy to answer any of our questions.
Finally, we hung out in the village and went to a small festival. We were given dinner and all of us shared a massive tasty jackfruit.
Jenny and I then retired to our digs where on this night we were entertained by a family of massive rats running around our room. These were most certainly post-conflict rats, as they seemed content to just run around us but not to jump on us. We appreciated this and eventually the rain drowned out the sounds of their squeals and we passed out.
The next day we chased the bus down the mountain, and it brought us dirty but very content back to Pokhara, with a much clearer picture of what bikas in rural Nepal looks like.
Deurali
Up to our house for the next two days
This young lady was gracious enough to share her home with us
The school that Prakash runs
Himalayas over the jungle- enough saidMonday, July 20, 2009
I see Josephine's Post and I Raise Her One.
This is what you are supposed to do at 545 am while looking at the Himalayas, right?
BY THE WAY: we are attempting-- IFP. International Field Program or Idiots Feel Peaceful. As you wish.
But since you can't even see the Himalayas in this photo, I will share a real one.
Harps Playing: Scott cries, Valeria shakes her head in awe, & Whitney's jaw falls off.
Photo Credit: Valeria Luzardo & her Ekdum La Camera on 19 July 2009
BY THE WAY: we are attempting-- IFP. International Field Program or Idiots Feel Peaceful. As you wish.
But since you can't even see the Himalayas in this photo, I will share a real one.
Harps Playing: Scott cries, Valeria shakes her head in awe, & Whitney's jaw falls off.
Photo Credit: Valeria Luzardo & her Ekdum La Camera on 19 July 2009
The Mountains
I extended my hand out the window and traced the outline of the mountains with my finger, moving them up and down the contours along with the lurching of the bus, imagining the snow shifting at the impact of my hand like powder sugar.It became my favorite moment.
That's all.
Saturday, July 18, 2009
Life in Maidi…through the eyes of a foreigner…
I.The Road to Maidi
We are five people in the comfortable, air-conditioned ESAP’s (short for Energy Sector Assistance Program) jeep heading to Maidi, finding our way through the mountains west of Kathmandu.
This unknown to all of us village is located in one of the 75 districts of Nepal called Dhading District. Up there the hills of the Ganesh Mountain Range seem much more majestic than from Dhobighat in the bottom of the Kathmandu Valley. Suddenly, I catch myself feeling extremely curious about the people residing in these lands. During our 5-6 hrs trip I am eager to learn that Maidi is the Village Development Committee in Dhading District of the Bagmati Zone of central Nepal. I am also told that at the time of the 1991 Nepal census Maidi had a population of 8496 and a collection of 1627 rectangular houses perched like brownish color Lego blocks on a steep slope overlooking a beautiful river. Now, I am impatient to see it. Also, my trip fellows keep sharing more interesting details regarding Maidi and the ethnic diversity there. I discover that the Bhramin, Chettri, Tamang, Gurung, and Newari are the predominant castes in Maidi and the main religions are Hindu, Buddhism, Islam, and Christianity.
Having lots of time to digest the information from our quick educational session in the car my thoughts are beginning to wonder in other directions. I am now reflecting on the fact that being on the inside of this vehicle makes me feel safe and somewhat protected. The bumps from fallen trees and rocks on the dirt road are just provoking some tiresome sighs on my face, some marks of exhaustion and motion sickness but nothing substantially worrisome. I even find myself feeling lucky to be part of the team investigating Solar Home System frauds in Maidi sent by the ‘powerful’ Government Center for Alternative Energy.
It sounds so important and yet, is it?
I can’t resist but ask myself: “But what about the rest of the people on the outside of our jeep? How do they feel? What do they think? What constitutes safety and security for them? Is it solar energy or the food on their table? May be the buffaloes that are tied up in front of their houses…? Or…?
So finally we reach our destination.
Feeling quite enthusiastic and inquisitive while sitting on a bench in front of our traditional Nepali mud house that will be our safety home for the next three nights I am writing about my first impressions from Maidi. I am then beginning to look for the answers of the burning questions that are constantly lingering throughout my consciousness…
II.Women in Maidi
First of all I notice how beautiful women are there: dressed in short blouses in red, wide colorful belts above their skirts and in their hair they have in-braided dozens of bright red threads. And their face features… so fine-looking and peaceful.
But is this harmony and peace just the surface of a troubled mind, restless days of constant work on the fields, fetching firewood from the jungle, and is it true that in Maidi, stealing someone's daughter for marriage is a popular practice as I recall was written in eKantipur several months ago (http://www.kantipuronline.com/kolnews.php?&nid=176347)? Are they also victims of early marriage and have they experienced caste discrimination? How many of them have actually had the chance to go to school or did they drop out right after marriage? Are they considered touchable or non-touchable within their community?
I have so many questions that I want to ask them, but I wait…I wait till they get used to my presence in the village and feel comfortable with me around. Till that moment I decide to just silently observe them doing their daily chores and breastfeeding their babies while probably wondering what is this foreign girl doing here and what difference does it make to her if she learns about our way of living? But I know why I am there. I want to see it with my own eyes and then tell my small world about them. I want to write about their lives and what I saw.
III. Kids
Then come the kids of the village…
Their faces are lit up by impatient looks and devilish smiles hidden behind the shyness of their young age. All of them persistently ask me to take their photos and show it right away to the entire group of kids gathered in a circle in the middle of the road.
After these important moments of fame that each one of them receives through the digital photo shoot we continue to communicate with our hands, sporadic phrases such as: Mero naam Stela ho and Topaiko naam ke ho? and lots of face expressions. I feel strange (but not really really strange)…almost like an elephant in a glass store… different, not quite belonging to the studied scene, and very careful not to say or do the wrong thing.
I know most of these young boys and girls haven’t seen a foreigner before, so I feel the pressure of saying something somewhat inspirational, but at the end I just come up with simple things about my country, my family and of course I try to use all the words I know in Nepali (Thank you both Anna and Ms. Nepal). I know this effort will make them feel rather happy and touched. Nevertheless, they are all laughing at my broken, close to non existing Nepali and I am not even trying to avoid their bold and intriguing questions which are always revolving around my personal life. They ask me in Nepali and I answer back in English as I am sure we are talking about different things but this is not important at the moment. What we all focus on is that we are developing a connection, a relationship which is rather essential for both sides. English or no English, at this moment I am not even analyzing the situation, all I know is that this is their way of accepting me in their village and my way of trying to fit in this totally new and unknown environment.
IV. Candy
I buy them candy, colorful ribbons for the girls and balloons for the boys (that is what I am told foreigners are expected to do). They are nervous to come to me and receive the little gift, but I am constantly repeating “Aaunu, Aaunu…it’s a little something for you”, then they come. They are happy…I am sad. I know that this is a short lived excitement for them and as soon as I am on my way back to Kathmandu, there won’t be anyone to give them little gifts and make their days special. I know that I can’t do much to change that and this makes me feel guilty for knowing that another life exists beyond their village where candy is just one way to freshen up your breath after lunch. I am sad because I know that most of them will never leave this village and see the world out there. But then again, this is only my understanding of being happy, what about theirs? Will they be happy if they leave the village and see the world? I don’t know the answers and suddenly I feel ashamed for constantly assuming that my own perceptions of comfort, contentment, and joy are universal.
IV. Our Hut
After that I begin to feel the heavy burden of the long trip, heat and mental exhaustion of constant smiling and extreme concentration to figure out what I am being told…and to answer back without fully embarrassing myself in front of the entire village. So I go to the little mud house and hope to get some good rest. Now, this is where the “fun” of my humble experience in Maidi begins.
The image and sound of mice running all over the ceiling combined with their droppings all over the bed, plus the presence of only one mosquito net (with large holes everywhere) and a big spider close by make the previous joyful expression on my face to quickly disappear. I don’t say anything. At this point I am too tired to complain and also I feel that I should appreciate even the little bit of what we have and remember that this is actually the real life of these people…not just a three nights/four days trip to do research and then back to the city-like room with personal bathroom that I sacredly enjoy.
Well, we all end up sleeping in one bed… safety and fear of all of the above win over shyness and earlier professional behavior. Now we start laughing, talking and getting over the awkwardness of the situation. Ashma and Maya are giggling in Nepali and now it is their turn to ask me whether or not I am married, have kids, am I in love, and have I ever been in a village before. Under the dim light of a torch we keep sharing stories from our lives and immediately the tension disappears. The girls are still having fun commenting on my answers while I am secretly listening for outdoor suspicious activities. There are dogs barking and my imagination begins to engage in a crafting process of scary and dangerous images of wild animals and ill-intentioned human beings walking around our hut.
Before dawn…I am in this stage between being asleep and being conscious…worn-out from the restless night, I am not even able to think straight and definitely not expecting that we will be getting up very soon (actually, too soon). And this is just the beginning…
V. Solar Home Systems
A new day and a new story…
I begin with my research of how having solar energy have changed life in the village. Soon enough I find myself busy figuring out the best ways to phrase my questions so I can capture their thoughts and opinions regarding what have the solar home system done to their health, education, social and economic activities. I am asking them whether or not now they know more about the politics of their own country and abroad and if it makes any difference to them. I am also inquiring about their decision of installing a Solar Home System (SHS) and if the Maoist insurgency has been of any significant matter.
Between my pretty academic - like questionnaire and Maya’s hardship understanding English, a lot of information gets lost during translation. Not only that, but also I notice that people are hesitant to talk about themselves and voice their own opinions, so I realize that I have to be very patient and ready to give them the space they need before they open up and start sharing their stories.
Eventually the words begin to roll out quicker than I expect and only then I learn that the majority of people interviewed (15 out of 53 households with SHS) are not interested in politics and economic issues due to lack of education, not understanding the complexity of the problems, or simply because they no longer trust their government. They think that no matter what is happening in the capital, nothing will change in their village and within their families. Moreover, for some of them having a Solar Home System means only light with little or no suspicion of the other benefits that come along with this light.
Then they ask me: “Why are you asking us questions about our education, sanitation conditions, political awareness, and the recent Maoist insurgency? We thought you were here to do research about solar energy?” and only then I discover that they are not able to see the interconnections.
VI. Departure
I leave Maidi greatful for this small chance to be part of real life in Nepal.
I realized that even though most of the people in the village did not exactly know what kind of socio-economic impacts a Solar Home System carries upon their lives, they knew all along that energy is profoundly fundamental and their investment is precious and worth every penny.
I also learned how important it is for those people to be paid attention to, listen to what they have to say, and then simply share back my own experience and thoughts. I learned from them, they hopefully learned from me.
And about the questions I haven't found answers to...I am still trying...
We are five people in the comfortable, air-conditioned ESAP’s (short for Energy Sector Assistance Program) jeep heading to Maidi, finding our way through the mountains west of Kathmandu.
This unknown to all of us village is located in one of the 75 districts of Nepal called Dhading District. Up there the hills of the Ganesh Mountain Range seem much more majestic than from Dhobighat in the bottom of the Kathmandu Valley. Suddenly, I catch myself feeling extremely curious about the people residing in these lands. During our 5-6 hrs trip I am eager to learn that Maidi is the Village Development Committee in Dhading District of the Bagmati Zone of central Nepal. I am also told that at the time of the 1991 Nepal census Maidi had a population of 8496 and a collection of 1627 rectangular houses perched like brownish color Lego blocks on a steep slope overlooking a beautiful river. Now, I am impatient to see it. Also, my trip fellows keep sharing more interesting details regarding Maidi and the ethnic diversity there. I discover that the Bhramin, Chettri, Tamang, Gurung, and Newari are the predominant castes in Maidi and the main religions are Hindu, Buddhism, Islam, and Christianity.
Having lots of time to digest the information from our quick educational session in the car my thoughts are beginning to wonder in other directions. I am now reflecting on the fact that being on the inside of this vehicle makes me feel safe and somewhat protected. The bumps from fallen trees and rocks on the dirt road are just provoking some tiresome sighs on my face, some marks of exhaustion and motion sickness but nothing substantially worrisome. I even find myself feeling lucky to be part of the team investigating Solar Home System frauds in Maidi sent by the ‘powerful’ Government Center for Alternative Energy.
It sounds so important and yet, is it?
I can’t resist but ask myself: “But what about the rest of the people on the outside of our jeep? How do they feel? What do they think? What constitutes safety and security for them? Is it solar energy or the food on their table? May be the buffaloes that are tied up in front of their houses…? Or…?
So finally we reach our destination.
Feeling quite enthusiastic and inquisitive while sitting on a bench in front of our traditional Nepali mud house that will be our safety home for the next three nights I am writing about my first impressions from Maidi. I am then beginning to look for the answers of the burning questions that are constantly lingering throughout my consciousness…
II.Women in Maidi
First of all I notice how beautiful women are there: dressed in short blouses in red, wide colorful belts above their skirts and in their hair they have in-braided dozens of bright red threads. And their face features… so fine-looking and peaceful.
But is this harmony and peace just the surface of a troubled mind, restless days of constant work on the fields, fetching firewood from the jungle, and is it true that in Maidi, stealing someone's daughter for marriage is a popular practice as I recall was written in eKantipur several months ago (http://www.kantipuronline.com/kolnews.php?&nid=176347)? Are they also victims of early marriage and have they experienced caste discrimination? How many of them have actually had the chance to go to school or did they drop out right after marriage? Are they considered touchable or non-touchable within their community?
I have so many questions that I want to ask them, but I wait…I wait till they get used to my presence in the village and feel comfortable with me around. Till that moment I decide to just silently observe them doing their daily chores and breastfeeding their babies while probably wondering what is this foreign girl doing here and what difference does it make to her if she learns about our way of living? But I know why I am there. I want to see it with my own eyes and then tell my small world about them. I want to write about their lives and what I saw.
III. Kids
Then come the kids of the village…
Their faces are lit up by impatient looks and devilish smiles hidden behind the shyness of their young age. All of them persistently ask me to take their photos and show it right away to the entire group of kids gathered in a circle in the middle of the road.
After these important moments of fame that each one of them receives through the digital photo shoot we continue to communicate with our hands, sporadic phrases such as: Mero naam Stela ho and Topaiko naam ke ho? and lots of face expressions. I feel strange (but not really really strange)…almost like an elephant in a glass store… different, not quite belonging to the studied scene, and very careful not to say or do the wrong thing.
I know most of these young boys and girls haven’t seen a foreigner before, so I feel the pressure of saying something somewhat inspirational, but at the end I just come up with simple things about my country, my family and of course I try to use all the words I know in Nepali (Thank you both Anna and Ms. Nepal). I know this effort will make them feel rather happy and touched. Nevertheless, they are all laughing at my broken, close to non existing Nepali and I am not even trying to avoid their bold and intriguing questions which are always revolving around my personal life. They ask me in Nepali and I answer back in English as I am sure we are talking about different things but this is not important at the moment. What we all focus on is that we are developing a connection, a relationship which is rather essential for both sides. English or no English, at this moment I am not even analyzing the situation, all I know is that this is their way of accepting me in their village and my way of trying to fit in this totally new and unknown environment.
IV. Candy
I buy them candy, colorful ribbons for the girls and balloons for the boys (that is what I am told foreigners are expected to do). They are nervous to come to me and receive the little gift, but I am constantly repeating “Aaunu, Aaunu…it’s a little something for you”, then they come. They are happy…I am sad. I know that this is a short lived excitement for them and as soon as I am on my way back to Kathmandu, there won’t be anyone to give them little gifts and make their days special. I know that I can’t do much to change that and this makes me feel guilty for knowing that another life exists beyond their village where candy is just one way to freshen up your breath after lunch. I am sad because I know that most of them will never leave this village and see the world out there. But then again, this is only my understanding of being happy, what about theirs? Will they be happy if they leave the village and see the world? I don’t know the answers and suddenly I feel ashamed for constantly assuming that my own perceptions of comfort, contentment, and joy are universal.
IV. Our Hut
After that I begin to feel the heavy burden of the long trip, heat and mental exhaustion of constant smiling and extreme concentration to figure out what I am being told…and to answer back without fully embarrassing myself in front of the entire village. So I go to the little mud house and hope to get some good rest. Now, this is where the “fun” of my humble experience in Maidi begins.
The image and sound of mice running all over the ceiling combined with their droppings all over the bed, plus the presence of only one mosquito net (with large holes everywhere) and a big spider close by make the previous joyful expression on my face to quickly disappear. I don’t say anything. At this point I am too tired to complain and also I feel that I should appreciate even the little bit of what we have and remember that this is actually the real life of these people…not just a three nights/four days trip to do research and then back to the city-like room with personal bathroom that I sacredly enjoy.
Well, we all end up sleeping in one bed… safety and fear of all of the above win over shyness and earlier professional behavior. Now we start laughing, talking and getting over the awkwardness of the situation. Ashma and Maya are giggling in Nepali and now it is their turn to ask me whether or not I am married, have kids, am I in love, and have I ever been in a village before. Under the dim light of a torch we keep sharing stories from our lives and immediately the tension disappears. The girls are still having fun commenting on my answers while I am secretly listening for outdoor suspicious activities. There are dogs barking and my imagination begins to engage in a crafting process of scary and dangerous images of wild animals and ill-intentioned human beings walking around our hut.
Before dawn…I am in this stage between being asleep and being conscious…worn-out from the restless night, I am not even able to think straight and definitely not expecting that we will be getting up very soon (actually, too soon). And this is just the beginning…
V. Solar Home Systems
A new day and a new story…
I begin with my research of how having solar energy have changed life in the village. Soon enough I find myself busy figuring out the best ways to phrase my questions so I can capture their thoughts and opinions regarding what have the solar home system done to their health, education, social and economic activities. I am asking them whether or not now they know more about the politics of their own country and abroad and if it makes any difference to them. I am also inquiring about their decision of installing a Solar Home System (SHS) and if the Maoist insurgency has been of any significant matter.
Between my pretty academic - like questionnaire and Maya’s hardship understanding English, a lot of information gets lost during translation. Not only that, but also I notice that people are hesitant to talk about themselves and voice their own opinions, so I realize that I have to be very patient and ready to give them the space they need before they open up and start sharing their stories.
Eventually the words begin to roll out quicker than I expect and only then I learn that the majority of people interviewed (15 out of 53 households with SHS) are not interested in politics and economic issues due to lack of education, not understanding the complexity of the problems, or simply because they no longer trust their government. They think that no matter what is happening in the capital, nothing will change in their village and within their families. Moreover, for some of them having a Solar Home System means only light with little or no suspicion of the other benefits that come along with this light.
Then they ask me: “Why are you asking us questions about our education, sanitation conditions, political awareness, and the recent Maoist insurgency? We thought you were here to do research about solar energy?” and only then I discover that they are not able to see the interconnections.
VI. Departure
I leave Maidi greatful for this small chance to be part of real life in Nepal.
I realized that even though most of the people in the village did not exactly know what kind of socio-economic impacts a Solar Home System carries upon their lives, they knew all along that energy is profoundly fundamental and their investment is precious and worth every penny.
I also learned how important it is for those people to be paid attention to, listen to what they have to say, and then simply share back my own experience and thoughts. I learned from them, they hopefully learned from me.
And about the questions I haven't found answers to...I am still trying...
Thursday, July 16, 2009
Sanchai chaina
I’ve spent the last month and a half doing my best to support and practice cultural relativism. Every time I send an email about what shocks me, surprises me or simply irritates me about Nepal, one of my friends –especially those who studied Social Sciences- replies me with a simple answer: “it’s cultural.” I immediately nod and repeat: “of course, it’s cultural.”
But, my friends, I have to make a confession: Nepal is making me lose some of the respect for the “culture-justifies-all” response.
The thing I like most about the family stay is having long conversations with my mom. She tells me things about the Nepali culture that I can not learn from the books. Yesterday, we had a long conversation after dinner. We talked about the role of women in this society. For some reason, every time I ask her about that, she ends up talking about the menstrual period. I guess it is because it plays a crucial role in defining their roles and activities.
She explained me that when a Hindu woman has her period, she is not allowed to worship or cook for her family. After me insistently questioning what the reason behind these restrictions is, she told me: "it has been scientifically proven that women transmit diseases when they have their period." OK, if there have been some tests run in Nepal to prove it, I take it…
After that, she told me that when a woman has her first period, she is locked up in a dark room for 11 days. During this time, she cannot leave while there is day light and it is forbidden for her to see her male relatives. She ended the story asking me "it's funny, isn't it?” Oh, yes, I really regret not having gone through that experience when I was 12 years old.
Irony aside, I find these kinds of prejudices not only ridiculous, but also very harmful. In some places of the world, menstruation can be a reason for girls to drop out of school. They feel embarrassed, so they just prefer to stay home.
Leaving this topic behind, we began to talk about marriage. I asked her what she thinks about the possibility of her children marrying someone who is not Hindu. She explained me that she considers that would be a bad decision, because families must follow the Hindu tradition. I told her I consider myself an agnostic person and my husband is Jewish; he fasts on Yom Kippur and doesn’t eat bread during Passover, and we are very happy together. Obviously, nothing of this sounded convincing to her because "Hinduism is different."
And I accept her position, because I respect people who choose to marry somebody from their own religion to maintain traditions alive. However, I mainly respect it if it is a personal decision and not one made by their parents.
But in Nepal things are always more complex. It’s not only about marrying someone who observes your religion, but also someone from your own caste. That is when things begin to be less comprehensible for me.
When cultural traditions include denying water to a group of people because they are "impure," the cultural factor begins to make me feel less comfortable. And it perturbs me that the rules are always detrimental against the same groups. I had this discussion with a friend who studies Anthropology. I told her that it can not be a coincidence that around 50% of Nepali women are illiterate. Her answer? “Literacy is a western value.”
I am sorry, I can not buy it. Literacy does not only mean being able to get a Ph.D. It also means being able to be aware of your rights, and to know you are entitled to get your children immunized from diseases that have had a cure for decades. I can not help thinking there are some things that are universal. Trying to keep your child healthy and alive is one of these. But maybe I’m wrong and it’s just a mental construction imposed by my culture…
But, my friends, I have to make a confession: Nepal is making me lose some of the respect for the “culture-justifies-all” response.
The thing I like most about the family stay is having long conversations with my mom. She tells me things about the Nepali culture that I can not learn from the books. Yesterday, we had a long conversation after dinner. We talked about the role of women in this society. For some reason, every time I ask her about that, she ends up talking about the menstrual period. I guess it is because it plays a crucial role in defining their roles and activities.
She explained me that when a Hindu woman has her period, she is not allowed to worship or cook for her family. After me insistently questioning what the reason behind these restrictions is, she told me: "it has been scientifically proven that women transmit diseases when they have their period." OK, if there have been some tests run in Nepal to prove it, I take it…
After that, she told me that when a woman has her first period, she is locked up in a dark room for 11 days. During this time, she cannot leave while there is day light and it is forbidden for her to see her male relatives. She ended the story asking me "it's funny, isn't it?” Oh, yes, I really regret not having gone through that experience when I was 12 years old.
Irony aside, I find these kinds of prejudices not only ridiculous, but also very harmful. In some places of the world, menstruation can be a reason for girls to drop out of school. They feel embarrassed, so they just prefer to stay home.
Leaving this topic behind, we began to talk about marriage. I asked her what she thinks about the possibility of her children marrying someone who is not Hindu. She explained me that she considers that would be a bad decision, because families must follow the Hindu tradition. I told her I consider myself an agnostic person and my husband is Jewish; he fasts on Yom Kippur and doesn’t eat bread during Passover, and we are very happy together. Obviously, nothing of this sounded convincing to her because "Hinduism is different."
And I accept her position, because I respect people who choose to marry somebody from their own religion to maintain traditions alive. However, I mainly respect it if it is a personal decision and not one made by their parents.
But in Nepal things are always more complex. It’s not only about marrying someone who observes your religion, but also someone from your own caste. That is when things begin to be less comprehensible for me.
When cultural traditions include denying water to a group of people because they are "impure," the cultural factor begins to make me feel less comfortable. And it perturbs me that the rules are always detrimental against the same groups. I had this discussion with a friend who studies Anthropology. I told her that it can not be a coincidence that around 50% of Nepali women are illiterate. Her answer? “Literacy is a western value.”
I am sorry, I can not buy it. Literacy does not only mean being able to get a Ph.D. It also means being able to be aware of your rights, and to know you are entitled to get your children immunized from diseases that have had a cure for decades. I can not help thinking there are some things that are universal. Trying to keep your child healthy and alive is one of these. But maybe I’m wrong and it’s just a mental construction imposed by my culture…
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
names.
Mao Zedong held no value for human life. He was not fighting for rights or equality; he was systematically ridding China of elites, intellects, artists, and “non-communists” in the name of a proletariat revolution. Equality was not the forefront of Mao’s fight, but rather, paranoia, propaganda, thought control, and oppressive fear. Maoism was not then and should never represent a fight for the people.
In reality, everyone suffered. The Great Leap Forward starved the peasants, the Cultural Revolution persecuted the intellects and high officials, and the entire regime was marked by persecution of “class enemies” who would shift at the whim of the great Chairman. Daring not to question his supremacy and never blaming, in solidarity the Chinese chanted: “Long Live Chairman Mao, Long Long Live Chairman Mao, Long Long Long Live Chairman Mao!” More than 20 million died as a result.
These Maoists are fighting for the oppressed: but when the oppressors are justified through religion and are geographically scattered, the ultimate goal of liberation is harder to achieve. Their goal is admirable, if daunting.
When visiting the Maoist People’s Liberation Army (PLA) camp one thing was certain. The “oppressed” people of Nepal are the priority and their liberation is the focal point of the struggle. If mentioned once, oppression was mentioned countless times, reminiscent of the repetitive Tharu drumbeat during the harvest dance heard the night before. This is a good thing. The oppressed people of Nepal need emancipation.
When the vehicle to emancipate is named for one of the most violent leaders in history, there should be pause for reflection and consideration for future implications. There exist divergences in the realities facing Nepal now and China in the past, perhaps making the struggle more ominous.
Religion had no place in Maoist China; Maoism was the religion of the people. Anyone who was not a peasant became the enemy combatant; anyone who did not engulf himself in Communist ideology was sacrificed. The oppression in Nepal stems mostly from the caste system. This traditional caste based system marginalizes and dictates the social status for Nepalis. Who is the target of the Nepali Maoist revolution: Hinduism, the highest castes? The targeting and toppling of religion is a rigorous task unto itself.
Mao’s class enemies were easy to locate. It was mainly urban intellectuals. The urban intellectuals were often sent to the countryside to be “reeducated” by the peasants in order to reach the final solution of a peasant filled, communal China. Maoism in this sense, does not fit Nepal, the enemies are not as easily segregated geographically. High castes reside everywhere. This other divergence from China provides an obstacle. In order to rid Nepal of a caste system, in order to equalize the whole of Nepal, what practical measures must be taken to “reeducate” a diverse and often geographically impenetrable nation?
The pride of the PLA camp was its ability to “equalize” all of its members. Allegedly, no caste system based segregation nor discrimination exist inside the camp. There are punishments by way of fine for those who act in a discriminatory manner. Arranged marriages exist in the camp and many marriages appeared to be within caste. Even this microcosm of 4,000 is a victim of tradition. The Maoists want Nepal to rid itself of caste discrimination but are unable to fully indoctrinate those on their side. This is when the fear of following Maoism grows.
I have limited experience discussing caste-based prejudices. But when I hear urban teenagers saying they want to marry within their caste, women my age touting arranged marriages, and the prevalence of skin-lightening creams and obsession with skin color as a sign of prestige- I cannot turn a deaf ear; caste-based discrimination, old ideologies exist. I do not know how the Maoists will choose to combat the thoughts and feelings of those who are unwilling or unable to transform from caste hierarchy to equality. That is when following Maoism becomes terrifying.
That is when the name starts to matter, because the name forecasts the future actions. That is when Maoist violence and thought control and systematic propaganda seem more probable, because in order to upend centuries long prejudices, treading lightly seems irrelevant. Then again, Martin Luther King, JR and Gandhi both led a non-violent revolution for the oppressed. So I ask, why not tie a revolution for the oppressed to those names?
The challenges facing the Nepali Maoists are difficult to overcome and are intimidating, perhaps even greater than those faced by their namesake. Maoism did not ultimately produce the results Mao Zedong hoped to achieve. In spite of it all, if the Maoists still wish to revere Mao in name, why would they stop there?
In reality, everyone suffered. The Great Leap Forward starved the peasants, the Cultural Revolution persecuted the intellects and high officials, and the entire regime was marked by persecution of “class enemies” who would shift at the whim of the great Chairman. Daring not to question his supremacy and never blaming, in solidarity the Chinese chanted: “Long Live Chairman Mao, Long Long Live Chairman Mao, Long Long Long Live Chairman Mao!” More than 20 million died as a result.
These Maoists are fighting for the oppressed: but when the oppressors are justified through religion and are geographically scattered, the ultimate goal of liberation is harder to achieve. Their goal is admirable, if daunting.
When visiting the Maoist People’s Liberation Army (PLA) camp one thing was certain. The “oppressed” people of Nepal are the priority and their liberation is the focal point of the struggle. If mentioned once, oppression was mentioned countless times, reminiscent of the repetitive Tharu drumbeat during the harvest dance heard the night before. This is a good thing. The oppressed people of Nepal need emancipation.
When the vehicle to emancipate is named for one of the most violent leaders in history, there should be pause for reflection and consideration for future implications. There exist divergences in the realities facing Nepal now and China in the past, perhaps making the struggle more ominous.
Religion had no place in Maoist China; Maoism was the religion of the people. Anyone who was not a peasant became the enemy combatant; anyone who did not engulf himself in Communist ideology was sacrificed. The oppression in Nepal stems mostly from the caste system. This traditional caste based system marginalizes and dictates the social status for Nepalis. Who is the target of the Nepali Maoist revolution: Hinduism, the highest castes? The targeting and toppling of religion is a rigorous task unto itself.
Mao’s class enemies were easy to locate. It was mainly urban intellectuals. The urban intellectuals were often sent to the countryside to be “reeducated” by the peasants in order to reach the final solution of a peasant filled, communal China. Maoism in this sense, does not fit Nepal, the enemies are not as easily segregated geographically. High castes reside everywhere. This other divergence from China provides an obstacle. In order to rid Nepal of a caste system, in order to equalize the whole of Nepal, what practical measures must be taken to “reeducate” a diverse and often geographically impenetrable nation?
The pride of the PLA camp was its ability to “equalize” all of its members. Allegedly, no caste system based segregation nor discrimination exist inside the camp. There are punishments by way of fine for those who act in a discriminatory manner. Arranged marriages exist in the camp and many marriages appeared to be within caste. Even this microcosm of 4,000 is a victim of tradition. The Maoists want Nepal to rid itself of caste discrimination but are unable to fully indoctrinate those on their side. This is when the fear of following Maoism grows.
I have limited experience discussing caste-based prejudices. But when I hear urban teenagers saying they want to marry within their caste, women my age touting arranged marriages, and the prevalence of skin-lightening creams and obsession with skin color as a sign of prestige- I cannot turn a deaf ear; caste-based discrimination, old ideologies exist. I do not know how the Maoists will choose to combat the thoughts and feelings of those who are unwilling or unable to transform from caste hierarchy to equality. That is when following Maoism becomes terrifying.
That is when the name starts to matter, because the name forecasts the future actions. That is when Maoist violence and thought control and systematic propaganda seem more probable, because in order to upend centuries long prejudices, treading lightly seems irrelevant. Then again, Martin Luther King, JR and Gandhi both led a non-violent revolution for the oppressed. So I ask, why not tie a revolution for the oppressed to those names?
The challenges facing the Nepali Maoists are difficult to overcome and are intimidating, perhaps even greater than those faced by their namesake. Maoism did not ultimately produce the results Mao Zedong hoped to achieve. In spite of it all, if the Maoists still wish to revere Mao in name, why would they stop there?
Tuesday, July 14, 2009
Paddle Play
A female Maoist ex-comabatant, her son and a Maoist nurse at the health post of Shaktikhor cantonment. Credit: Tom Van Cakenberghe
We pulled up to the gate around noon, a dank hour on a day promising to be 35°C in the shade. The men keeping sentry at the bamboo and concertina wire post carried semiautomatic rifles, but kept a glazed look of humidity-induced tedium as we passed through in our small bus with the ‘Tourist Only’ tag adorning our rear window.
Arriving into the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) cantonment of Shaktikhor in
Disembarking, we were met with the whirr of power tools and the nearby hammering of timber and tin buildings under construction or repair. Shaktikhor is a busy place. Young men and children walked and cycled through the dirt paths, curious but not lingering on the foreigners who were not everyday visitors. Barely stopping to watch the tok-tok-tok of an intense ping pong match, we were led to a small meeting hall where we were met by the benevolent gazes of Marx, Engels, Lenin, Stalin and Mao Tse Tung on those comrades to be seated below them. Shelves filled with Marxist material and book-ended by battle instruction manuals ringed the room. Over the door where we’d entered, another banner espoused choice quotations from the Little Red Book.
We were introduced to Comrade Deepak, the deputy commander and secretary of the camp. Like many who joined the Maoists, he grew up poor in an impoverished village. Through translation, Comrade Deepak explained that limited educational opportunities coupled with deep-seated discrimination meant that when the Maoists engaged their insurgency (begun in 1996), they garnered his support and that of the marginalized, rural population in whose ostensible honour they were fighting. Many people thus became Maoists in hopes of liberating themselves from generations of oppression. Their revolution, Comrade Deepak espoused, was about ending injustice and instating equality; an aspiration for many in one of the world’s most deprived countries.
There are 4,000 soldiers and their wives stationed at Shaktikhor, and the average age is 25 years. The make-up of the ex-combatants, despite the ideological trumpet of equivalence, is diverse and includes members from
In January 2008, the cantonment at Shaktikhor was the site of a controversial video of Prime Minister Pushpa Kamal Dahal (‘Prachanda’) giving a morale boost to the soldiers interned there. The video, released this past May after Prachanda resigned following a confrontation with the president over a controversial decision to fire the army chief, revealed the Maoist leader admitting that they had inflated the number of combatants. Though the PLA numbered only between 7-8,000 soldiers, its strength was given as 35,000 during a UN verification. He also said the decision to sign the peace pact and take part in the election was part of the “revolutionary counter-attack strategy” to capture state power, including winning votes by breaking limbs, diverting state funds to buy arms, and ideologically infiltrating the military.
I had imagined that those we would be speaking with were anxious to reveal a more intimate revelation of life inside the camps and what Maoists really thought behind the Communist principles they championed. Instead, we were given piecemeal answers to our questions on army integration and the role ideological indoctrination, and steered around potentially troublesome topics. When asked about the video and its consequences, Comrade Deepak answered quickly that it was misappropriated and used out of context. Queried about the best and worst case scenarios for the future of the ex-combatants, he simply remarked that with the Maoists rejoining the government, the peace process would be moving ahead and would successfully integrate the PLA into the Nepali Army. Again, when pressed about the possibility of continued discord between the two armies, there was an uncomfortable smile of ‘no comment.’
Excusing himself then, Comrade Deepak went to find a woman to speak with us about the gender dimension. During the People’s War (as the decade-long insurgency is popularly referred to), the Maoists boasted that their army consisted of equal numbers of men and women who shared both the duties and the fighting equally. Women are almost a fifth of the population at Shaktikhor today, and are housed in separate quarters. Some, like 21-year old Comrade Kavita, are married and live with their husbands in the camp. A second generation Maoist who joined the party when she was 15, Comrade Kavita visibly displayed her youth and shyness in her hands, as she folded and clasped them in front of her while she related the common misperception that women, when given a gun, don’t know how to use it. In fact, she laughed, there were some notable battles fought with Maoist men ready to surrender, yet persevered through the determination of their female counterparts.
Our limit on time meant we were not allowed to look around the camp nor speak with anyone who wasn’t cleared. So after talking with Comrades Deepak and Kavita, we were escorted from the meeting hall to the UNMIN area of the camp where the decommissioned weapons are stored and where, once a week, the Maoists are allowed to clean the guns. Established in August 2006 by the UN Security Council, the UNMIN is a special political mission designed to support of the peace process. Initially mandated for one year, UNMIN has already been given three extensions of six months each. Its current term expires July 23, but the Nepali government has said that UNMIN would remain in
(For more images of life in
Monday, July 13, 2009
Our Chains
The poster hangs up high on the wall; the hammer and sickle logo branded against a red background. Marx. Engels. Lenin. Stalin. Mao. Sketched with bright paint strokes. Plastered in the central meeting room in the People's Liberation Army Camp.
Makes one wonder…Did this prolific poster come free with a year-membership to the Communist Party, and the offer has not changed since 1945?
The rise of the Maoists in Nepal came at a time when the fear of Communist uprisings had been buried under the rubble of the Berlin Wall. A world where, let's face it, without the Soviet Union, Communism no longer really mean anything anymore. The Ches, the Fidels, the Hos, the Ceacescus were nationalists and anti-colonial revolutionaries with their own agendas, but it is within the context of the Cold War's Soviet "sphere of influence" that there were at all related under the umbrella of Communism. Of course, this is not to discount that they all did spout the same doctrine, rallied people under the concept of a truly egalitarian society, and enforced state control on everything from education to media. But it is in retrospect that in many cases, the ideology was easily compromised, usually for a grander plan for the good of the elite Communist leaders or for the almighty Dollar.
The umbrella of Communism during the Cold War gave a false sense of global solidarity; it convinced people that the movement was certainly global and that, one day, the proletariats of the world will unite and lose their chains. The Sino-Soviet split, the reluctant support from the Soviet Union and China for Vietnam during the War, North Korea's disdain for Maoism proves otherwise.
And still, the poster hangs seemingly uniting people here in Nepal, over 50 years later, under this false ideal, under these leaders whose visions were too self-benefiting to remember the people and the cause. It triggers a deep disdain, melancholy, agitation from people who have lived in former Communist regimes. It makes the United States viscerally revert back to the déjà vu Cold War mindset. It makes the non-Maoists, the NC, the UML, the MJF suspicious of a totalitarian takeover. It fails to entice China in any closer relationship with Nepal.
Communism means nothing.
And yet the Nepali people fighting for equality are double-yoked by the chains of the oppression from the conservative discriminatory caste system and by the chains of the Communist legacy. Like their condition in every aspect of life, they were given no other option than to hang this antiquated poster rather than to make their own. Redefine their own revolution. Their own struggle for equality.
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
A visit to the past: celebrating the former king's birthday
Soldiers and supporters outside the former king private residence.
Long live (and line for) the King!
My homestay dad proudly supporting the former king.
Presents for the former king.
Jenny greeting former king Gyanendra.
Jenny, the only American in the celebration, getting the Nepali media attention.Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Because "Serious" is so 2008.
*This is a letter to “Jeremiah Goldstein.” He was chosen to be a part of the IFP Nepal 2010 program.
Dear Jeremiah,
Congratulations on your acceptance to the Nepal IFP Program. What a summer you will have!
As a veritable expert on everything, especially those things related to spending two months in Kathmandu, I would like to offer you some tips. I will promise only to curb your fears and enhance your pleasure. Take heed and carry a big carrot:
1. Due to the economic crisis, the masala (Nepali for “spice”), the financial meltdown, and the high altitude you will more than likely suffer from some sort of stomach thing: just go with the flow.
2. Bring LOTS of money. This will enable you to partake in a vast array of imperialist feeling activities: frolicking in the rolling fields of the Garden of Dreams with its big white column drenched buildings and afternoon swims at the Hyatt while eating a Caesar salad topped with crumbled bacon and a 2002 Blanc de Blanc vin de Francais.
3. Bring a lurid, pink North Face rain jacket. Because of the monsoons, Jere-ji!
4. This sentence likes to wear bug spray, sunglasses, and sunscreen; this sentence thinks the last one was probably a hall monitor in high school.
5. Drink cappuccinos every day. If you choose the right place, you will get a complimentary cookie. You may also find this time appropriate to people watch and/or make small talk with waiters. You will feel at home; you will feel local; you will feel like one of the gang; you will probably cross your legs.
6. Rides on public transportation serve as educational and cultural relativism exercises. If your head is in someone’s armpit, you know you have succeeded.
7. If you are at a restaurant with a large group of people, please, do not hesitate when there is only one food item left on the dish: GRAB it or someone else will. This shows strength and virility.
8. As you are in a landlocked country, avoid using phrases such as: “The ocean breeze is lovely in Kathmandu!” There will be uncomfortable silences or awkward chuckles, lip biting and eyes wandering (maybe rolling).
9. For peat’s sake, bring a backpack and a portable, durable water bottle—it is necessary that you look like a backpacker at ALL times. In that vein, walk around with your IFP group in Thamel every chance you get. You will blend in! Say things like, “This chaos is burning my Zen I think I’ll go trekking to cool off”; also, consider wearing a hemp vest.
10. Don’t cry about the arrested development. Embrace it and then write about it on your blog. Make sure to use words such as “empowerment”, “potato”, and “character building”.
That should do it. Of course, each trip is unique unto itself and like the snowflakes we all are, the experience you have will indubitably diverge from mine. I hope you do not feel the need to travel has been obfuscated by this comprehensive list of tips, dramatizations, poetry, and vociferous travel writing. Go. Be. Exist. Cross those legs!
Bright Shiny Stars to You! I wish to hear of your progress. Please do not call me or email me. I only receive snail mail; I rarely respond.
Warm Kindness and Best Sincerely,
Whitney “Gloria Gaynor” Fisher
Dear Jeremiah,
Congratulations on your acceptance to the Nepal IFP Program. What a summer you will have!
As a veritable expert on everything, especially those things related to spending two months in Kathmandu, I would like to offer you some tips. I will promise only to curb your fears and enhance your pleasure. Take heed and carry a big carrot:
1. Due to the economic crisis, the masala (Nepali for “spice”), the financial meltdown, and the high altitude you will more than likely suffer from some sort of stomach thing: just go with the flow.
2. Bring LOTS of money. This will enable you to partake in a vast array of imperialist feeling activities: frolicking in the rolling fields of the Garden of Dreams with its big white column drenched buildings and afternoon swims at the Hyatt while eating a Caesar salad topped with crumbled bacon and a 2002 Blanc de Blanc vin de Francais.
3. Bring a lurid, pink North Face rain jacket. Because of the monsoons, Jere-ji!
4. This sentence likes to wear bug spray, sunglasses, and sunscreen; this sentence thinks the last one was probably a hall monitor in high school.
5. Drink cappuccinos every day. If you choose the right place, you will get a complimentary cookie. You may also find this time appropriate to people watch and/or make small talk with waiters. You will feel at home; you will feel local; you will feel like one of the gang; you will probably cross your legs.
6. Rides on public transportation serve as educational and cultural relativism exercises. If your head is in someone’s armpit, you know you have succeeded.
7. If you are at a restaurant with a large group of people, please, do not hesitate when there is only one food item left on the dish: GRAB it or someone else will. This shows strength and virility.
8. As you are in a landlocked country, avoid using phrases such as: “The ocean breeze is lovely in Kathmandu!” There will be uncomfortable silences or awkward chuckles, lip biting and eyes wandering (maybe rolling).
9. For peat’s sake, bring a backpack and a portable, durable water bottle—it is necessary that you look like a backpacker at ALL times. In that vein, walk around with your IFP group in Thamel every chance you get. You will blend in! Say things like, “This chaos is burning my Zen I think I’ll go trekking to cool off”; also, consider wearing a hemp vest.
10. Don’t cry about the arrested development. Embrace it and then write about it on your blog. Make sure to use words such as “empowerment”, “potato”, and “character building”.
That should do it. Of course, each trip is unique unto itself and like the snowflakes we all are, the experience you have will indubitably diverge from mine. I hope you do not feel the need to travel has been obfuscated by this comprehensive list of tips, dramatizations, poetry, and vociferous travel writing. Go. Be. Exist. Cross those legs!
Bright Shiny Stars to You! I wish to hear of your progress. Please do not call me or email me. I only receive snail mail; I rarely respond.
Warm Kindness and Best Sincerely,
Whitney “Gloria Gaynor” Fisher
Conformity and All That
I have been spoiled by the work I have done with LGBT groups in the US. While all LGBT advocacy groups wish to advance LGBT rights and quality of life to a certain extent, one of two paths are usually chosen. The first seeks to enhance the rights of LGBT individuals while keeping their lives, culture and goals conspicuously separate from that of the mainstream, heteronormative culture. The second set of groups seeks to enhance LGBT rights by working to conform as much as possible to this heteronormative *lifestyle*. In anticipating my work with Blue Diamond, I assumed these two paths would be present here as well. However, I have noticed many LGBT individuals fighting to be as conformist as possible, in their mannerisms, in their goals, etc. For example, many of the MTF individuals here were shocked to learn that many MTF individuals in the US are not exclusively or at all attracted to men and that some have varying degrees of what 'feminine' is. In talking with many lesbians, I have learned that many couples have explicit male/female-wife/husband roles. Same-sex marriage is a top priority in this country, where accused LGBT individuals are still regularly verbally and phsically attacked and many are thrown out of their homes when they come out. Many Nepalis don't even recognize the concept of homosexuality and when they do, it is often associated with pedophilia.
The want to conform is natural for all human beings and many may believe that it is the best way to advance their cause. At this time, the West/Individualistic vs. East/Collectivistic argument will probably be brought out. While it could be argued for (and against) that sensitivity to the community is stronger in many parts of Asia as opposed to Europe and the Americas, 'Asians' are not mindless drones who seek to constantly replicate those around them. They are individuals who have individual needs and, i'm assuming, many who will not feel comfortable in this gender binarism.
The want to conform is natural for all human beings and many may believe that it is the best way to advance their cause. At this time, the West/Individualistic vs. East/Collectivistic argument will probably be brought out. While it could be argued for (and against) that sensitivity to the community is stronger in many parts of Asia as opposed to Europe and the Americas, 'Asians' are not mindless drones who seek to constantly replicate those around them. They are individuals who have individual needs and, i'm assuming, many who will not feel comfortable in this gender binarism.
Monday, July 6, 2009
some mid-trip thoughts.....
So this morning I realized that today, July 6th, is my anniversary- I have officially been in Kathmandu for one month. And, being past the halfway point of the program, I figured that it was about time that I post to our very creatively named class blog. Plus, since I’ve finally been invited onto the page (shout out to Anthony) I really don’t have any excuse not to. So here goes a post, in honor of my and Nepal’s anniversary.Not surprisingly, I’m going to start out with a reflection, and I really do mean a reflection….
Outside of the shop across the street from where I sit, idly bingeing on wireless, stands a cluster of full-length mirrors. Faced with the overwhelming blankness of an untitled word.doc, I’ve spent the better part of an hour watching as people pass by and encounter their own unexpected reflection, staring back at them in the wall of glass. For a second they pause, give a small, surprised smile, and then return to their commute, maneuvering through the chaos of the Kathmandu streets. And while presumably these mirrors have been arranged on the sidewalk in order to attract a buyer, I can’t help but think that somewhere in the dark, cool shadow of the shop, the creator of this little fun-house effect is enjoying the spectacle as much as I am.
I’m people-watching people watch themselves.
And in some way, I think that living in a foreign country, especially one like Nepal, is more than a bit like the effect of meeting oneself in those mirrors. Removed from our usual surroundings, the familiar context of New York and GPIA, stripped of the props and safety nets of home, we can be surprised by ourselves. (Well, at least I’m surprised.) Surprised by our ability to adapt and to tolerate the annoying and absurd, to learn a few words in Nepali, eat seemingly overwhelming quantities of rice, negotiate our neighborhoods, connect with our “families” and co-workers, stay in touch with home and the world at large, be bitten by bugs, watch Hindi TV, find things to do during load-shedding, and tolerate the heat, mud, political demonstrations, and truly indescribable smells. And in order to do all of that, in order to find some sense of accomplishment and enjoyment in the mundane details of daily survival, we have to let go of our own expectations and perceptions.
And this, I think, is the biggest challenge to myself, our group, and foreigners in any developing country: to suspend the automatic, superficial reaction to poverty and political dysfunction. To let go of our immediate reactions and repulsions and see that the people operating in this context are not trying to offend our foreign sensibilities, but are just trying to live. Yes, it is poor, and dirty, and it smells bad, but these are the lives that they live, and this is why we, or at least I, am here. We’ve come here not only to learn about water/politics/indigenous issues/microfinance/land/human rights/third gender/community organizing/what-have-you in Nepal, we’re also here to learn about ourselves. If nothing else, our time in Nepal should show us how lucky we are- to be able to hang out in Western style cafés, with pizza and diet coke on the menu, with Stafford funds to fall back on, that safety net only a cell phone call away, and a return ticket back to our every-day lives. We were never going to fix all of the problems here in 2 months, but hopefully we'll be able to see that these problems are worth fixing. While our time here is a mirror, forcing us to confront our own expectations and preconceptions, ultimately We decide what to focus on: either the great disparity between ourselves and those picking through the trash on the side of the road, or our common humanity.
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Children playing in the Bagmati River (close to Pashupatinath Temple)
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A body being prepared to be cremated...
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Nepali tradition of burning the bodies of dead people...
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No, the two body painted people from the picture are not members of my host family. They are actually considered saints who live in Pashupathinath Temple - the place where Nepali people who reside in the Kathmandu Valley burn the bodies of their dead relatives. So, on Saturday (June 13th, 2009) Josephine and I decided to go see the Monkey Temple (Swoyambhu Nath Stupa) and since we were determined to use public transportation we ended up in another temple - the one with the burning ceremonies.
When we arrived there we saw several monkeys playing around and we immediately thought that we are at the right place but by the time I figured that that was a mistake I already saw two bodies being prepared to be burned.
If it was my choice to see that...I would rather skip that privilege but oh, well.....I was there and I saw it by accident, so now I feel the urge to speak about it. One of the bodies was of a young girl from a lower caste and the other one was of a man from the caste Chettri.
I respect their traditions but I don't agree with how things are done here. It is so unhygienic and since this ceremony is done right on the banks of the Bagmati River (more like a little pond than a river) there were some kids swimming and playing in the dirty water......together with the ashes and everything else that I even don't want to attempt to describe…
But then again.....it is what it is.....this is their life and I take it as it is and I just have to fight my inner desire to see change in such things for the better...
Smiling people....Part two....
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Shivani...A true Nepali Smile!!!
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The lovely journey inside a tempo...At least someone is having fun :-)
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Since the notion of address does not apply to the Nepali reality of life, during the first two weeks we needed to ask literally every second person for directions. This is the day when Phiney and I were mistakenly directed to the Pashupatinath Temple instead of the Monkey Temple....The beauty of being a tourist in Kathmandu...at least people are smiling while explaining...
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On the streets of Thamel...I simply could not resist!
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This is the safety box keeper! We meet regularly :-) in the "Gemini" Supermarket in Patan when he asks me to leave my bag before entering the store...
The smiling people of the Kathmandu Valley...
Sunday, June 14, 2009
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Picture: Smiling Girl on the road, June 11, 2009
The Himalayan Times, Monday, June 8, 2009
Best Healer
“Laughing is essential to our equilibrium, to our well being, to our aliveness”
Many years ago, Norman Cousins was diagnosed as ‘terminally ill’. He had six months to live. His chance for recovery was one in 500.
He could see worry, depression and anger in his life contributed to, and perhaps helped cause, his disease. He wondered, “If illness can be caused by negativity, can wellness be created by positivity?” He decided to make an experiment of himself.
Laughing was one of the most positive activities he knew. He rented all the funny movies he could find – Keaton, Chaplin, Fields, the Marx Brothers. This was before VCRs, so he had to rent actual films. He read funny stories. He asked his friends to call him whenever they said, heard or did something funny.
His pain was so great he could not sleep. Laughing for 10 solid minutes, he found relieved the pain for several hours so he could sleep. He fully recovered from his illness and lived another 20 happy, healthy, and productive years. His journey is detailed in his book, Anatomy of an Illness.
He credits visualization, the love of his family and friends, and laughing for his recovery.
Some people think laughing is a waste of time. It is a luxury, they say, a frivolity, something to indulge in only every so often. Nothing could be further from the truth. Laughing is essential to our equilibrium, to our well being, to our aliveness. If we’re not well, laughing helps us get well; if we are well, laughing helps us stay that way.
Since Cousisns’ groundbreaking subjective work, scientific studies have shown that laughter has a curative effect on the body, the mind and the emotions. So, if you like laughing, consider it sound medical advice to indulge in it as often as you can. If you don’t like I aughter, then take your medicine – laugh anyway.
Use whatever makes you laugh – movies, sitcoms, records, books, cartoons, jokes, friends.
Give yourself permission to laugh – long and loud and out loud – whenever anything strikes you as funny. The people around you may think you are strange, but sooner or later they’ll join in even if they don’t know what you’re laughing about. Some diseases may be contagious, but none is as contagious as the cure…laughter.
Author unknown
Observations from the streets of Kathmandu...(this was written on June 15th, but due to my snail speed i-net and no previous habit of blogging, I post it today)
It seems to me that many people in Nepal are smiling, laughing and having optimism in the eyes no matter if they are Gurung, Chettri, Newars, Tamang or whatever title they have been given by birth... and no matter how hot, polluted, dirty and crowded is around. What is the reason behind this?... Could it be because Nepali people are naturally light hearted and they don’t miss even the smallest of chances to crack a smile at you? Or...is it just me ...? So, this made me determined to document that optimistic "phenomenon" of smiling people and I have decided to take pictures of smiling children, men and women on the streets of Nepal, in their houses and everywhere I spot their shining dark eyes and smiley faces!
After only a week in Kathmandu, I realized that Nepal, being the country it is with all of its democratic issues, obstacles, and bandhs....poverty and struggle for a brighter future and inclusive society needs this kind of optimism and light in the eyes of people....so, I am thrilled to capture those precious moments of hope and happiness which stream from the faces of Nepali people!
More to come...
+(800x600).jpg)
Picture: Smiling Girl on the road, June 11, 2009
The Himalayan Times, Monday, June 8, 2009
Best Healer
“Laughing is essential to our equilibrium, to our well being, to our aliveness”
Many years ago, Norman Cousins was diagnosed as ‘terminally ill’. He had six months to live. His chance for recovery was one in 500.
He could see worry, depression and anger in his life contributed to, and perhaps helped cause, his disease. He wondered, “If illness can be caused by negativity, can wellness be created by positivity?” He decided to make an experiment of himself.
Laughing was one of the most positive activities he knew. He rented all the funny movies he could find – Keaton, Chaplin, Fields, the Marx Brothers. This was before VCRs, so he had to rent actual films. He read funny stories. He asked his friends to call him whenever they said, heard or did something funny.
His pain was so great he could not sleep. Laughing for 10 solid minutes, he found relieved the pain for several hours so he could sleep. He fully recovered from his illness and lived another 20 happy, healthy, and productive years. His journey is detailed in his book, Anatomy of an Illness.
He credits visualization, the love of his family and friends, and laughing for his recovery.
Some people think laughing is a waste of time. It is a luxury, they say, a frivolity, something to indulge in only every so often. Nothing could be further from the truth. Laughing is essential to our equilibrium, to our well being, to our aliveness. If we’re not well, laughing helps us get well; if we are well, laughing helps us stay that way.
Since Cousisns’ groundbreaking subjective work, scientific studies have shown that laughter has a curative effect on the body, the mind and the emotions. So, if you like laughing, consider it sound medical advice to indulge in it as often as you can. If you don’t like I aughter, then take your medicine – laugh anyway.
Use whatever makes you laugh – movies, sitcoms, records, books, cartoons, jokes, friends.
Give yourself permission to laugh – long and loud and out loud – whenever anything strikes you as funny. The people around you may think you are strange, but sooner or later they’ll join in even if they don’t know what you’re laughing about. Some diseases may be contagious, but none is as contagious as the cure…laughter.
Author unknown
Observations from the streets of Kathmandu...(this was written on June 15th, but due to my snail speed i-net and no previous habit of blogging, I post it today)
It seems to me that many people in Nepal are smiling, laughing and having optimism in the eyes no matter if they are Gurung, Chettri, Newars, Tamang or whatever title they have been given by birth... and no matter how hot, polluted, dirty and crowded is around. What is the reason behind this?... Could it be because Nepali people are naturally light hearted and they don’t miss even the smallest of chances to crack a smile at you? Or...is it just me ...? So, this made me determined to document that optimistic "phenomenon" of smiling people and I have decided to take pictures of smiling children, men and women on the streets of Nepal, in their houses and everywhere I spot their shining dark eyes and smiley faces!
After only a week in Kathmandu, I realized that Nepal, being the country it is with all of its democratic issues, obstacles, and bandhs....poverty and struggle for a brighter future and inclusive society needs this kind of optimism and light in the eyes of people....so, I am thrilled to capture those precious moments of hope and happiness which stream from the faces of Nepali people!
More to come...
Friday, July 3, 2009
Faces part 2
French fries, ketchup, and ice cream...
Sam received this shirt after the Minister went on a diplomatic trip to Kenya. He loves it.
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