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...
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