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!!!