IFP Nepal 2009: Inside 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.