Just in case..we're all fine!

Hi all,

I just wanted to quickly let you know that everything here is just fine. I'm not sure what you have heard about the situation in India yet, but as Nepal is facing it's own problems today I wanted to prevent any mix ups and assure you that the situation here in Nepal is not affecting me and that the problems in India, horrific as they are, are as far away for me as they are for you.

So, yes, Kathmandu is facing another day of strikes because two additional bodies have been discovered in the forest, but the strikes are mostly directed at the slow police response and so foreigners are being completely ignored. Additionally, because of my recent accident, I'm still resting up in Satdo Bato away from the chaos.

As for India, right now, it's just to sad and too startling for me to talk about. Being away from home, on a holiday and having to face news like this is too difficut to explain. My prayers are with all of the hostages in India, and all of their families.

I am more thankful than ever that my family and friends on both sides of the planet are safe and sound, but I'm so saddened that it comes in the face of such horrible news.

Love you all,

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Dilemas, Dilemas

Hello all,

Lately, in addition to working here in Kathmandu and preparing to finally return to the field, I've been contemplating my future and desperately trying to decide on that next step. And I know I've had discussions on this already with many of you, but I'm still finding myself to be torn to such a point that I've already spent 30 min this evening in serious conversation with the web's best version of the magic eight ball. (Interestingly enough, it's hosted by Purdue...maybe I'm not the only one who had grad school decision making dilemmas.)



In any case, in order to minimize my stress levels, at least a bit, I'm currently only considering two options. Of course, all of my fretting is based on the assumption that I will be admitted to both of these two schools and that enormous amounts of funding will be delivered to my door by grad school elfs (or is it fairies?) In any case, as I'm preparing to formally request recommendation letters in order to get the application show on the road, I'm using every spare moment to torment myself over what my future ought to hold. So I thought, instead of keeping all that delicious torment to myself, why not share it with all of you? That way you can contribute your thoughts, and suggestions, or at least sadly shake your head and sigh, "Oh silly silly girl". Either way, it's better than continuing to brew over it in solitude.

So here they are, thing 1 and thing 2:

Thing 1 (Aka Why go home just yet?) The School of Oriental and African Studies in London, a school of enormous merit and recognition in my field, offers a one year masters program in Anthropological methods. Despite the fact that a masters is not a pre-requisite for my career track and that I may need to take out a scary loan, the program is attractive because:

1. My resume up to this point is very vanilla. It basically reads: U of M blah blah U of M blah blah blah blah U of M blah blah in collaboration with U of M professor blah blah blah. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad, except for the fact that I'm almost 100% sold on getting my Phd from U of M.
   
2. Despite constant re-assurances from my professors and my own growing confidence from experiences in the field, my lack of formal training in methods is a concern for me. I've been told that having experience in the field is training enough, but I think methodology is too important to be learned entirely experimentally and I've yet to be fully convinced of the strength of U of M's methods program.
   
3. Did I mention that SOAS is an remarkably impressive school. Yeah? Well, I'm just reminding you then.
   
4. It's a year in London. I won't even bother to illucidate this point.

But then there's thing 2 (the path of least resistance). This plan involves me immediately entering into a PhD program at U of M and spending the next 3-4 years back in A2. (Followed immediatly by more fieldwork here in Nepal) As I said, at this point, I can't see myself doing a PhD program anywhere other than at U of M, so the question is merely one of timing.

Admittedly, I originally had some reservations about the program because it's already very clear which proffessor would be over seeing my work, and while I adore that proffessor, our work styles are very different. But just this evening, I've finished reading his latest publication and saying that I was impressed would be a gross understatement. The piece was phenomenal and more importantly for me, reflected an attitude about anthropology and a writing style that I identified with immediately. I've read works by this proffessor before, and I was always disappointed that the way he spoke about our work and the way he wrote about it didn't seem to match up, but in this piece...wow. I work from the belief that as anthropologist we have 2 major responsibilities; the first is to stress the human aspect of our social science, and the second is to continually use (and openly acknowledge that use) of our fieldwork as a means of coming to know ourselves and in any discussion with my professor it was clear that we agreed on these points. But it was not until this most recent publication, that these views became explicit in his writing as well. And now, despite my complaints about disorganization and over commitement to numerous projects, I can't see myself working long term with anyone else.

Ok, so without sounding too silly, I'm thinking of this as a romantic relationship. I know U of M is the one for me, and if U of M will have me, I'd be foolish to consider a long term relationship with anyone else. The problem is I'm just not sure if I'm ready for the commitement. A big part of me still wants to play the field a little, and one last fling with London is just so tempting...

Sigh. what to do? or as Nepalis would say "Ke Garne?"

Oh and just because I think it's funny:
I've recently come to realize that the Nepali equivalent of "How's it going?" or "What's up?" is (in nepali of course) "Have you eaten?". I'm not sure why, but no matter how many times I recieve a text message from any one of my friends that says "Hi Sarah, Have you eaten?" it makes me laugh. Fortunately, I'm able to supress my laughter in conversation. Anyway, just a tidbit... And yes, yes, I've eaten! Read more on "Dilemas, Dilemas"!

Fieldsite Pics

Hi all,

Just wanted to draw attention to the fact that I've changed one of the slideshow boxes to show pictures from my first trip to the field. Sadly, my camera's photos are still MIA, but Dai was generous enough to give me these from his camera so that I could give you guys a better sense of what I was talking about in the last post. I hope you enjoy them as much as I do.

All my love..and a few of my hugs too!
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My Fieldsite!!

As promised, though long over due, here’s my post about my fieldsite. You can thank (or blame as you see fit) an amazing cup of tea and Ella Fitzgerald for finally motivating me to write this. I discovered a bottle of vanilla in the kitchen this afternoon and the whole world seems different now! I'm not sure where on earth it came from, because all the packaging is in english, but I hardly care because now my tea is extra delicious!

As some of you have heard, my camera has tragically eaten all of my pictures from my first field visit. My super awesome little brother is going to try and recover them, but in the meantime, you’ll just have to rely on my picturesque writing.

During my first trip to the field, I visited several different villages, just so that I could get a sense of the landscape and because it hadn’t be determined exactly where I’ll be staying yet. In fact, my future home away from home away from home is still not set in stone, but things are looking pretty solid with one particular family. But only time will tell where I eventually end up.

In any case, I was excited to find that each village we stopped in had a unique flavor all of it's own. My fieldsite is located in the district of Jhapa, largely within the city of Damak. Jhapa is pretty far south and at one point on the bus ride home I could look out the window and into India. The landscape is absolutely beautiful, but it's also very foreign seeming to a Northern girl like me. You can generally still see the hills in the distance, but gone are the green decidious trees. Instead, palm trees sprout up here and there, and vast fields cut by irrigation canals dominate the view. There arn't nearly as many cows as there are here in Kathmandu, but there are more than enough buffalo and oxen to make up for them.



When I'm in the field, it feels as though the heat will never relent, but by evening, it's generally beautiful. Unfortunately, the heat is very conducive to creepy crawlies, and in addition to some of the largest insects I've ever seen in my life, snakes are fairly common here. In fact, just after we'd left one of the villages a small child had to be rushed to the treatment clinic for a snake bite. (Which prompted me to buy a new pair of shoes despite my preference for sandals) But before you worry too much, the little one made a full recovery and at least for snake bites the treatment clinic is excellently prepared.

In terms of the vista, my favorite part of the field is the houses. There are two styles of houses that predominate in the area. The one I find to be most practical and comfortable is generally built of wood with either a straw or tin roof. The house has two stories, and the second story has a large porch where you can sit and write, or take meals in the evening. The other house style is generally made of clay, again with a thatched roof, but only with one story. Most homes generally have additional buildings, and in the villages where I'm working, many of the homes have a seperate building for the kitchen. The kitchen holds a lot of religious significance for the Dhimal community, but I've only just begun to explore that area.

Of course, all of this means nothing to me when compared with the people I'm so fortunate enough to be working with. I'd been careful when choosing a group to work with because I wanted to find a community that would find my work to be useful and meaningful, but that still didn't prepare me for the warm reception I've recieved at every turn. Everyone I met was excited and curious about me, and everyone seemed eager to help me however they could. However, looking back on it now, I can't fight a sense of sadness at the way that some of them reacted to me. They were all so kind and warm, but at the same time, there was often an un-necessary sense of embarrasment that hurt me very deeply. The discourse of development and modernity is well known here, and people are well aware that their homes lack the comforts of the big city. I tried to explain that I found value in the way they were living as well, but many seem to have internalized the critiques of the "modern" world, and the warnings of countless NGO workers so thoroughly that it was impossible for them to consider my compliments as anything other than mere politeness.

But I suppose even this is a hidden blessing, because it's really challenged me to look at the way I value life styles, and in particular the human comforts I've grown so accostumed to. Sometimes, as I'm assuring someone that I don't mind using their outhouse or sharing a bed with a stranger, I had to stop and ask myself if I really didn't mind. And I've found that while I may occasionally be peeved at the lack of this or that amenity, after just a day or two, I seem to adjust and life goes on pretty much as it always has for me. I think that rather than saying that life is better or worse in the city or in the village, I really feel that it's just different.

Of course, that's not to say that right now I'm not more comfortable in Kathmandu. After all, my friends are here, and I don't really have a home in the village yet. But I think that once I've really found my place, and mastered some of the basic skills I currently lack (like bathing at the water tap), I'll be just as happy there as I am here.

Alright, I know I probably could have written a ton more, and I'll try to fill in the gaps as time goes on, but I think this is still a pretty good introduction. That said, if you have questions, please please ask..I never know exactly what you guys will find most interesting!

But it's quickly getting late here and I've got to work tomorrow evening, so I really ought to be off. All my love!!!

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Free Gift Coupons!?! Does it get better?

November 12

Dear all,

I just wanted to take a second to share a few funny moments from today. To begin with, our darling Jyopsi has learned to pretend, which is very exciting and has opened up a whole new range of games for us. When I returned from visiting the cyber café today, she had placed every one of her stuffed animals on top of their own individual pillows all across the living room floor. As I opened the door, she looked up at me, and informed me that the animals were napping. It was sooo cute. Of course, she immediately began to scold me for being to loud, but even when she’s being bossy (so basically when she’s awake) she’s still the cutest thing in the world.



The other funny moment happened while Didi and I were out shopping. I think the humor was lost on Didi so I felt that I needed to relay the incident to an American audience. Today, Didi and I had several errands to run, and so we headed out to Jawalkhel, where the main street is lined with shops of every kind. I needed a warm jacket as the fabled cold that I had heard about for so long has finally appeared. Of course, it’s still 80 degrees by noon here, but at night, I’m sleeping with a blanket and a sleeping bag. My nepali friends find the cold to be absolutely torturous, but being the good michigander that I am, I still find it to be rather pleasant. That said, I’ve been shopping for my scootie lately and I think that at least on the road a warm jacket will come in handy.

We looked at a few of the smaller shops first, but as I’m the nepali equivalent of Gulliver in the land of the Lalliputs here, everything was far too small. So we went to a larger department store. To my delight, I was able to find a jacket that I think is super cool, super warm and fits great. Now here’s the part that tickled me. Since the jacket was a little expensive (though still probably less than $25 USD), I handed the woman at the counter my nepali ATM card. She politely asked if I had cash, saying that she could put the purchase on credit card, but that I would get more “free gift coupons” if I paid in cash. Being the silly American that I am, I assumed that the coupons would really be for a discount on future purchases, but as it turns out, the 20 or so coupons I was handed were really the equivalent of Chucky Cheese tickets!! How cool is that!?! I was instructed to go downstairs where I found a long glass counter in front of floor to ceiling shelves. On the shelves were an assortment of items, all with small signs in front indicating the number of coupons required for the item. I was given the choice between a set of colored pencils, a pencil case, and a set of 3 small Tupperware containers. Since I’m obviously so responsible, the choice was clear and I passed up on the hours of coloring fun for the Tupperware containers. Though, in all fairness, I must admit that my first thought was that they were the perfect size for storing candy, but we’ll pretend I was going to fill them with nuts or lentils or something equally healthy.

Anyway, I was just so excited to walk away with a cool jacket and three new teeny tiny tupperware containers that I just had to write home about it. And now I should get back to work! Love you all!

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In to the field..and through the hills

This post was written for you all from the field. Sorry it took so long to post it here.

Dear all,

It’s been a long two days, but I’m finally here in Dharan. Dharan, is not my fieldsite, but it’s only about a 2 hour ride by motorbike from here. Dharan is also Dai’s childhood home. Right now, I’m writing from his mother’s front porch. This porch is one of my favorite places in all of Nepal and I feel so incredibly at home in Dharan it’s incredible. I think it’s probably because last year when I was ill I was so well cared for here that I couldn’t help but feel safe and happy here now that I’m visiting while healthy. That said I’m sure it doesn’t hurt that I’m pretty sure Dharan is actually the garden of Eden. There are tall palm trees and flowers of every kind and color. The houses are all beautifully painted in warm oranges and cool greens and blues lending to the paradise effect this place has on me. But I think for me, it’s the butterflies that really make the place. I was telling a friend in a letter the other day that if you were to take a butterfly with snow white wings and paint it anyway you liked you’d find that it was already here in Nepal. And there’s nowhere that seems more true than here in Aamaa’s garden. But spoiled as it may sound, after our long trip to get here this slice of heaven feels well deserved.



So let me tell you a little about the trip out here. We headed out from Dai’s home at 3:30pm yesterday and traveled by taxi to the bus park in Kalanki. Dai’s younger brothers (though both are still Dai (older brother in nepali) to me) had arranged 2 tickets on a night bus for us. The bus was supposed to arrive at 4pm and arrived right on Nepali time at 4:45pm. As we climbed on the bus, I was pleased to find that my brothers had remembered how tall their little American sister was and they had secured me the seat with the most foot room, just behind the driver. Dai and I were also surprised to find that one of Dai’s cousin was also on the same bus (this proved to be a lifesaver later) (Oh, you should see the butterfly that just flew past, it was as big as my hand).

Anyway, the bus left shortly after arriving and for the first 45 min we headed up to the hills without a problem. But 5 min past the first police check point, we hit a jam caused by a broken down truck. We fought with similar jams for the next few hours and when we stopped for our first break I had the distinct feeling we hadn’t gotten very far at all. And it was at the 1st break that I realized how fortunate I was that Dai’s cousin had come with us. Had she not been with us there would have been several bathrooms breaks I would have maneuvered through far less gracefully. Of course, that’s not to imply I didn’t still look like a bungling American but at least I was a bungling American who managed to get the job done.

After our 2nd break (around 10pm) I finally managed to fall asleep. We stopped again several times, but I slept through most of them. At one stop we had to wait for a police escort to take us through a bandit ridden slice of forest and I wanted to stay awake to see the police but I simply couldn’t manage. When we arrived at our destination at 4:45am I still had difficulty rousing myself. When I did finally climb off the bus, I was astounded to find that our destination wasn’t a place at all. Or rather it wasn’t a place in that there was nothing there; no buildings, no houses, just a few buses. I had assumed we would be going to some town or village or something, but it turns out that since the Koshi flood, most of the traveler’s stops are just places that happened to be dry. From there, we had hoped to get a jeep or a microbus, but after waiting for a long time we all piled into the back of a rust red flat bed being pulled by a tiny tractor. So there I was, watching the sunrise over a flooded landscape from the back of a tractor with 15-17 other people and luggage to match. For a few minutes, I was the romantic traveler marveling at this once in a lifetime moment I’d been given, appreciating the pinks peaking out from behind the mountains in the distance and watching the water buffaloes wake up and wander about…but then, I had to pee…..really badly and I realized that my legs hurt and that the people in the truck with me were complaining about how uncomfortable we all were. I never cease to be entertained by these sudden perception shifts I have. Of course, I tried not to let reality rob me completely of my romantic musings, but it was also an important reminder. As travelers, it’s easy for us to romanticize hardships and discomfort when they are short-lived experiences, but we also need to remember that for others this is not a “once”, but a lifetime experience.

After about 30-45 min in the trailer we arrived at another place that was not a place, this time next to a very swollen river. There were several other buses, jeeps, ect and there was an assortment of over crowded boats waiting in the water. Our boat reminded me of the boats you see in cartoons about Egypt. It was long (15ft by 6 ft maybe) and though it was dug out like a canoe, large woven bamboo mats had been placed across the entire top and that’s where all 45 or so of us sat. Here's a picture that's pretty close, though imagine a ton more people. The boat swayed a bit before the diesel engine puffed to life. Dai’s cousin was scared and I have to admit I spent a moment or two planning my escape route should the boat tip, but the water didn’t seem to b e very fast and I haven’t seen any crocodiles so I wasn’t too afraid. (Yeah, ok, I laughed when I wrote that too. How did my life come to a point in which I judge my safety by whether I saw crocodiles?) The oarsman on the other hand looked terrified the entire 20 min crossing and though he was making excellent money, I couldn’t help but wonder how long his poor heart could take this kind of work.

Once across, we again caught a tractor, which took us to another, though significantly smaller, swollen river about 15 min away. This time we crossed by bridge, which was really a football field worth of bamboo mats strung together. Had I any sense, I might have been terrified, but fortunately that’s not often a problem for me here. Instead I was busy being annoyed that we had to pay 10 rupees (less than a quarter) to cross the bridge and trying to figure out which of the men that were collecting money I could mentally accuse of being the bridge troll. (After seeing more of the Koshi aftermath, I’ve rethought this part of the trip. I’d now happily pay significantly more to help all the people who have lost so much)

Once across, we took a bicycle towing a wooden platform (the village version of a rickshaw) up to the nearest bus park. I enjoyed the ride though I felt terrible for the poor man pulling all four of us and our luggage and for only 20 rupees. Dai reminded me I was contributing to the local economy, but I still felt a bit inhuman and I tried to keep myself from worrying over the man’s calorie intake.

At the bus stop, we had tea in a local shop. From the tea shop, Dai and I took another bus to his father’s farm. We visited the farm for a short time, and then we caught another bus to a place called Itahari, from there we caught our last bus of the journey to Dharan. It was afternoon when we reached Dharan, and I was sent straight to bed to nap. After my nap, I found myself here writing to you. I know it was a long post and I’m sorry if you were bored, but it was also a very long journey. Can you believe that I’m going to do it all over again in just a week’s time? Hooray for adventures!

I’m working on a post about my fieldsite now, but it seems as though all of my pictures may have been deleted. I’m going to fight to recover them for a bit, and so I’m going to wait and try to post and put the pics up at the same time. Wish me luck!

All my love!

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Day Trip To Tirsuli

So this post is very late in the making. I had promised to write about my trip to Tirsuli, but almost 2 weeks have passed and I hadn’t written a word. I’ll do my best to capture the excitement of the trip, but I’m just going to admit now that you’ll probably get a better sense from looking at the pictures. Because I haven’t asked permission from all my friends, the pictures will only be up in the slideshow for a little while, so enjoy them while you can. (If you ever miss any of my slideshow pics tho, feel free to ask me and I’m happy to send you a link. I’m just super cautious about the internet privacy of my friends and family. See U of M, your ethics training does pay off.)

So the other day, I was out enjoying Kathmandu with a near and dear girl friend of mine when we ran into some of her friends. They told us that they were planning a day trip for the next day and that we should come along. I was hesitant at first, thinking that I had things to do the next day to help Didi and work I should being doing before I left for my fieldsite, but eventually I agreed to join them. I’m so glad I did.



The next morning, one of my new friends picked me up from my class on his motorcycle, which was super exciting in and of itself. After all, I don’t mind taking the long bus ride home, but how could I pass up a motorcycle ride!?! We met up with the rest of the group at a shop near my house. (I’ve since learned that several of my new friends own shops very near to my house, which is great because now I can stop and chat on my way home and as you all know chatting with friends just makes my day)

There were eight of us in the group, distributed on 4 motorcycles. We were going to take a day trip to another town just outside of the valley, called Tirsuli. To get there, we spent about four hours riding through the mountains on the bikes. It was so beautiful and so much fun. Everyone in the group is very sweet and fun loving, and they took advantage of every opportunity to stop and play. If you’ve ever seen one of those hindi movies with the group of college friends, you’ll already know a lot about my new friends. (I like to think of the adorable group of friends in the movie Jaane Tu Ya Na Jaane, which also happens to be my favorite Hindi movie.) On the route, we stopped to take pictures in front of the hills, we played in the waterfalls (even though the mountain water really is as cold as ice), and we tried to take pictures of each other as we rode along.

We also managed to do a lot of sightseeing in a short amount of time. Along the road, I accidentally scared my bike’s driver because as we climbed one hill I saw my first snow capped mountain and I was so excited and taken by the sight that I couldn’t help but let out a little squeal. Shortly after my mountain glimpse and some profuse apologies to my friend, we arrived in Tirsuli. We made a quick visit to the town itself, but we spent most of our time playing in the local dam. Then we went to the river and played some more. The boys were especially rambunctious in the river and ended up in a huge splashing match. Fortunately, they were gentlemen enough to leave us ladies dry.

On the way back from Tirsuli, we visited one of the palaces of the first king to unite Nepal into one country. We had arrived there later than we should have, so most of the buildings were closed, but we still toured the grounds and had more fun with the cameras. I think the pictures of us all sitting in a row at the palace are my favorites from the trip. Then we started racing home to try and minimize the time we’d spend in the hills after dark. We ended up spending quite a bit of time riding home in the dark and while I knew that Didi would never approve, I couldn’t have been happier. For years, motorcycle riding has held an almost meditative power for me, and adding the dark mountains, the cool air and a night sky like I’d never seen was intoxicating. Even two weeks later, thinking about that ride makes me smile from deep inside. I spent hours sitting on the back of that bike just taking it all in.

I wish that I could really make you appreciate the scene from that night, but nothing I could say would ever really capture it. I remember looking up and seeing some of the brightest stars I’d ever seen flickering in a field of darkness, only to realize that they were in fact the lights from homes high up in the mountains. But they were so high up how could I think they were anything but stars? And then I’d turn my head, and tilt it only slightly and find myself staring into a wall of stars more plentiful then anything else I’d ever seen. I’d never appreciated the night sky like I did then, when the only light to compete with them was the occasionally mountain “star”. And of course, all this while cruising along a crisp night on a motorcycle with dear friends. While I’d be lying if I said that life here was always easy and wonderful, I still enjoy days like these like they were the last bite of a perfect chocolate chip cookie. And my gratitude for my experiences somehow makes them all the sweeter.

Still, even on that perfect day, you should all know that I thought of you often. I’m finding that even in the happiest moments, the moments don’t mean as much until I can share them with the people I’m missing back home. Even as we rode, I thought about what I would write to you, and what special bits I would share for this person or that one. So mushy as it sounds, you are all really with me wherever I go. As always, I’m sending big hugs and happy days to all of you.

Best,
Sarah

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