"Malwadi herne", my 3 year old niece cried impatiently, running to the window. She's still small and she's used to getting what she wants when she wants it. What makes this request interesting is that "Malwadi herne" means "I want to see the Maoists."

The Maoists she was referring to were the 500-600 people who had gathered on the street outside our house. Through the day the crowd had ebbed and flowed, sometimes quietly resting, other times blaring Nepali songs and dancing. By evening, they'd started lighting small fires, most of which were only for fun, but a few of which featured a scarecrow effigy of the Prime Minister at the center.

I'm sure from the sound of it, you may be able to imagine quite a frightening picture, but after 6 days of continuous strikes, it's just become daily life. All the same, it's a rather interesting life.

In short, the situation is this: The Maoists have demanded the current Prime Minister resign. Until he does so, Kathmandu is under siege. And in order to make their siege as effective as possible, they have bused in thousands of villagers; sheltering them in private schools, party halls, and homes which they have commandeered. Ironically, many of the "protesters" were brought here by force and many of them have already started walking home.

In some senses, it's as if the whole country is in an unbreakable deadlock. The protesters no longer want to protest, but they are forced on by their party leaders. Meanwhile the rest of the nation sits at home, only venturing out between the hours of 6pm-8pm, the 2 hours which the Maoists allow shops to open in order to supply food both to their cadres and the rest of us.

Until yesterday, things had remained peaceful, but the protesters have now endured 6 days of hot sun, and 6 mosquito filled nights. What's more, hundreds of protesters lie in the hospital suffering from diarrhea after drinking contaminated water.

At this point, what happens next is very uncertain. My office has already announced we will remain closed until at least Monday. Each day the leaders sit in talks from 11am until 3pm, but so far not a single consensus point has been made.

The only things that are certain is that we are safe here in our home, and that the strike will continue for some time yet. Hopefully that time will be short.

All the same, no need to worry. We are wanting for nothing, but a little exercise. I'm sure we'll all have a few bandh pounds to shed when this is all finished.

As always, missing you all dearly!!! Read more on " "!

Holi Easter, Batman!

Last weekend, I decided to introduce my new family to yet another of our crazy American traditions, the wonder that is Easter Eggs. Since we’ve got three little ones in the family, I thought some easter egg dying was in order. Afterall, that’s what you’re supposed to do on Easter, right? But this presented a unique problem. How could we color easter eggs without commercially available dying kits, complete with egg drying racks and bunny stickers? At first, I thought I’d try to make homemade egg dyes. But once I’d done an internet search and found some recipes, I realized that would be totally impossible. For one thing, all of the dyes required that the eggs soak for at least 12 hours, which with three year olds, is an impossibility. Second of all, they all required ingredients which would have taken some hunting to find in the US, let alone here in Nepal. And finally, I have been trying to dedicate more and more time to writing up a few articles. And so my Easter Extravaganza was defeated, or so I thought.



The Thursday before Easter I mentioned my crushed plan to one of the other teachers at school. She immedieatly came up with a remarkably novel solution. “Why don’t you use those colored powders that everyone throws at everyone else during Holi? The color won’t come out of my clothes, so I’m sure it could stick to an egg.” I wasn’t sure it would work, but it was worth a try. So I sent Buffalo to Pashpatinath, the biggest Hindu temple in the country, in search of colors for my easter eggs.
When he returned home, he tossed me a small bag filled with little envelopes made of newspaper. Each one contained a teaspoon full of colored powder. There was powder in bright pink, a deep turquoise, purple, two shades of green, a bright yellow, and a beautiful saffron orange. I dissolved a pinch of each powder in cold water, and in seconds had a table full of easter egg dyes. And the dyes not only managed to stain our easter eggs, the two kids and I (one wee one wasn’t able to come over to play) pretty easter hands for the whole day. I think the powder even worked better than the stuff we used to use at home, because the color stuck to the eggs almost immediately. Of course, as this was our first easter, and I’d only boiled about a dozen eggs, the kids decided to re-dye each egg several times, and we ended up with a batch of brown/black eggs anyway. But at least the eggs looked the way I hoped they would for a little while.

So in addition to perfectly blending two often very different cultures, I think I’ve managed to discover a new dye for the silk yarn I’ve slowly been spinning.
And yes, I know what you’re all thinking. “If you didn’t spend so much time playing with little ones and yarn, you’d probably have a lot more articles written, and maybe even a few more blog posts.” But I’m going to have to quote my mentor on this one. Whenever anyone asks how his dissertation is going, he proudly points to his little girl and says, “There’s my dissertation.” All the same, I do hope to have some articles finished very soon. Especially considering that now I have to tell you all the very sad news, that none of the graduate schools I had picked, picked me back. Which means that Buffalo and I have to postpone our homecoming to November, and that I have to work, work, work, and re-apply next year. But not to fret, back up plans are in the works, and I’m sure by next year, grad schools will be begging me to join their departments.

And in the meantime, I’m going to go start dying that yarn!

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After oh so long

Dear all,
Surprise! I’m still alive! Honestly, I can’t believe it’s been four months since my last blog post. I don’t know where the time went. Anyway, the important thing is that I’m here now, and I’m going to try to get you caught up.

So what have I been doing for four long months? Well, mostly I’ve been getting adjusted to being married, I suppose. I moved into my husband’s family home just a few days after the last blog post. With the addition of me and my cat, the family member total here now comes to 9! Sometimes I’m surprised I can even remember all the names. Not only are there are a lot of us, but we’re all very different too! We range in age from 3 years (both the cat and my nephew) to 83 and just as you’d expect, we can never all agree on a Tv channel. Sometimes living with such a big family has all the makings of those 1980 sitcoms, but most of the time, it’s a real blessing.

On top of all the hustle and bustle of such a big family, the first floor of our house is dedicated to the family furniture business, making our home very busy indeed. Right now, it can get to be a bit of a hassle as I work from home a lot, but the good news is I’ve recently gotten a new job. Even more exciting, is that the new job comes with a new office to work in. So hopefully by next month, home time will really be home time, and I’ll have a peaceful office to work in during the day.

And of course you’re wondering, “What’s this new job?” And the answer is the best part; I’ve been hired as a lecturer at a new college! For now, I’m teaching academic English, but there are already rumors that I may be asked to teach the anthropology masters students in the future. Even now it’s hard to contain my excitement. I really love the school, the staff, and my current class, and I really hope there’s a place for me in the future as well.

Additionally, I should be hearing very very soon from graduate programs. Hopefully, I’ll be posting some very good news shortly about PhD programs, and homecoming plans. In the meantime, feel free to join me in anxiously waiting. If you’re really sympathetic, you can check this blog about every half an hour to see if I’ve posted anything, just like I keep checking my email. Of course, the funny part of that is, most of you are in the US, so when you are checking the blog, I’ll be sleeping not writing. But the sad part of that is, the same is true of the admissions department when I’m checking my email. Sigh. Oh well.

Anyway, Buffalo is hungry, and we’re going out for dinner tonight, so I’ve got to run. Love you all
this (------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------) much!

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Fun with friends…..and Fiancés!

Dear all,

Today, I’ve a small confession to make. There’s been a lot I haven’t been telling you about my life here in Nepal. And there are a couple reasons for this; mainly that I don’t really know who reads my blog, but also because I try to keep this blog from getting too personal, too often. After all, I started this blog to tell my friends and family about my life in Nepal, but also to keep them updated on my work. But in light of the adventures I want to share with you today, I think it’s time for the big announcement: I’m getting engaged!

You may ask, what do you mean getting engaged? Here in Nepal, engagements are usually formal organized parties, almost like a mini-wedding, and therefore, the engagement itself takes planning from both the bride and the groom’s family. And today, Buffalo and I (perhaps I should start calling him Fiancé) headed out to Bhaktapur in search of engagement rings. Like most things he and I do together, we made as much of an adventure of it as we could and we had a wonderful time. So here’s the run down:



Buffalo picked me up around 11am this morning, and we went and had lunch at his house, with his mom, dad, and his older sister (who happened to be visiting today). Lunch was delicious as always, and his sister made sure to give me extra potatoes in my curry because they all know how much I love potatoes. It was a small gesture, but it made me happy all the same. I feel so fortunate to be welcomed into such a warm and loving family with such open arms. But the littlest rascal of the house, Buffalo’s nephew, wasn’t home and somehow it felt just a tad too quiet. All the same, it was a nice peaceful lunch with family.

Then we hopped on the bike and headed out to Bhaktapur. Bhaktapur is an ancient city just outside Kathmandu. It took us a good half an hour to get there, but there was a light rain falling so the dust and the heat were both much more manageable than they have been of late. We chatted the whole way out, and by the time we reached the jewelers, I was giddy with excitement.

The jewelers (we met with two of them) are both childhood friends of Buffalo’s and they were among the sweetest guys I’ve ever met. They were a bit surprised by our news at first, but within minutes, they were teasing me as if we’d been friends for a long time, and I felt right at home with them.

To my own surprise, I’m being a little picky about my ring, but the boys were very patient and they are going to do everything they can to get the design just as I’d like it. But in order to do so, we have to go see a more experienced goldsmith tomorrow. I was a little disappointed, because I was in such a hurry to order the ring and just being at the shop was so exciting. But Buffalo teased me today that he has a big “American” proposal planned, though I have no idea what that means, so it could be a long while before I get to see my new treasure.

The good news is we found a ring he liked a lot today too. I’m going to tweak the design of it a little, and then order it from the jewelers when Buffalo isn’t around. There’s a picture of the ring he likes in the slideshow, so feel free to make suggestions if you have any.

The other good news, at least in my opinion, is that stones are ridiculously cheap here. My ring is still going to cost far more than I would like, because of the high cost of gold here, but it looks as though the white topaz I’ve chosen will cost less than a dollar! ( I refuse to wear diamonds because of the many well known evils of that industry.) I know some brides-to-be may not think that’s something to brag about, but I’d much rather spend that money on plane tickets for Buffalo and I, so I’m thrilled.

Ok, but enough about the rings themselves. As much as that’s exciting to me, it probably isn’t so much so to all of you, and it ended up being a small portion of the day anyway.

After the ring business was taken care of, we sat in the shop and sipped sodas and chatted with the jewelers for awhile. Then they sent us off to do some exploring throughout Bhaktapur, but not before promising to give us a guided tour later in the afternoon. So off we went, giggling at the people who mistook Buffalo for my guide, taking pictures of “tourists” and wandering through centuries old streets enjoying the chance to live among the ghosts of that place. We particularly liked an old well whose edges now appear scalloped, not by design, but because the stone had been worn into that pattern as people leaned over the edge year after year, pulling water up for their homes.

We stopped for a quick snack in one of the most touristy (True story: spell check is recommending the phrase: touristiest!) restaurants in the whole city, and Buffalo was very taken with the couches. (He owns a furniture shop, and hopes to open another soon.) It made me laugh to see him taking pictures of the furniture in the café, especially when only minutes before he’d been snapping shots to use in his sketches and watercolors. But perhaps it’s not a good idea to laugh at him when he’s being responsible. Still, I can’t wait to bring him pictures of IKea from home!

Then it was time to catch back up with the jewelers. As we headed back to the shop, Buffalo realized he’d misplaced his bike key. Panic should have ensued, but instead, I went back to the jewelry shop and he set off with the jewelers in what was now a slightly heavier rain to find the key. While I sat at the shop, one of the jeweler’s assistants asked me if I was worried, but I told him that I knew Buffalo and I knew exactly where he’d left the key and that he’d be back with it in a few minutes. And as I predicted, Buffalo and his friends came back a minute later on the bike laughing because the key was still dangling in the ignition when they got to it. So from now on, I am the key keeper!

Now that we had the bike and the key, the four of us headed out on a quick motorbike tour of the city. We stopped and took pictures here and there, but then the off again on again rain started to get the best of us, so the jewelers head back home. Buffalo and I had planned to go home too, but as we got near another of the big sights in Bhaktapur the rain cleared up again, and so we decided to make one more small stop.

There is a huge, beautiful fish pond just outside of the main city and we finished our sightseeing there. We took silly pictures, fed the fish, and relaxed as the sun went down. After that, Buffalo and I grabbed a quick dinner on the way home; where we talked about things big and small, (yes, mom that includes your babysitting comments!!) and then he dropped me off at my flat. After spending the whole day with him, it felt a little strange to have to say goodbye at the end of the night, but I can’t complain too much because the alone time has given me the chance to write to all of you.

Anyway, I must confess to feeling that today’s post is probably very boring to those of you who are not happily enjoying the love bird stages of your life right now. If that’s the case, I do apologize. But I know others of you are curious about this mysterious seeming new man in my life and I thought that seeing some pictures and hearing about what was actually a pretty normal day out for us was like might put you a bit at ease. And even if the post is a little boring, the pictures are cute, so maybe that’ll balance things out.

As always all my love..because there will always be enough of that to go around!!!

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Can miracles be made of sugar? I think they can!

Dear All,

So once again, it’s been a little while since I’ve written. It’s not that I didn’t want to write, it’s just that as every day becomes more everday-ish, I find it harder to think of things to write to you about.

Lately, my life has been very full of planning. Planning my trip to the states (WOOHOO!), planning my upcoming presentation, planning my next year here, planning one last Fulbright sponsored trip to the field, and above all, planning the deep breathe I’ll take when all the planning is done.

Mostly, my plans are progressing nicely. For a bit, I was in quite a funk, and I had difficulty accomplishing much of anything. Fortunately, life didn’t let me stay that way for more than a few days, and now I’m both busy and productive. My trip dates are set (Aug 28^th through Sept 14^th). And my flight details are in progress. My presentation is all but done, I’m registered for my class, I’ve got a decent (and perhaps even fulfilling) teaching job lined up, and my visa is taken care of. Looking back on it, it seems like a long string of small miracles.

Of course, life isn’t all work, so I’ll just finish briefly with my “sweet shop” story. I apologize for those of you who may have heard this already, but frankly, it continues to make me happy (and fat) so I keep talking about it! So there is a sweet shop very near to my house that I occasionally visit. The sweet shop sells all sorts of delicious Nepali and Indian treats. But for weeks, I’d only order one thing, the julabi. Finally, the very friendly shop owner asked me, “Why do you only order Julabi?” and with no small degree of embarrassment, I admitted, “because it’s the only thing I know the name of.” The owner chuckled, handed me my snack, and asked me to come back tomorrow.

Because I would never dare upset a sweet shop owner, I dutifully appeared the next morning. He smiled, and instead of heading toward the case where the julabi usually sits waiting for me, he ushered me to a table. In a matter of moments, I was surrounded by sweets of all kinds, each arriving with a polite introduction. I was absolutely giddy. 30 minutes later, I was absolutely roly poly, but still just as happy. And I can now say, with certainity, that dudh malai is my favorite south asian sweet, followed closely, by my old friend julabi. Now whenever I visit the sweet shop, the owner gives me a little something to take with me. Buffalo is very lucky I’m not too fickle, or I may have been swept away by sugary goodness.

Of course, this new found friend is quickly helping me recover all that weight I’d lost from being sick, but I’m taking the advice of my favorite priest, and not fretting over it too much. Once I had begun to tell say, “Well, if I ate chocolate as much as I’d like..” and he quickly chimed in, “you’d be happy.” And I think it’s an excellent point. So, in short, if you’re wondering what I’m so busy doing as of late, I’m planning, planning, planning, and eating chocolate and sweets!

Oh and in completely unrelated but equally exciting news, I’ve just received a manuscript of another much more established anthropologist’s upcoming book (yes, it’s the anthropologist’s equivalent of getting to walk the red carpet at a world premiere). Thus far, it is fantastic, and it’s both fantastically exciting and humbling to have the privilege to work with such great minds. If you ever wonder why I’ve moved to Nepal, the simplest answer is because of manuscripts like this!

Still missing you all! But I’ll see you soon.

All my love,

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No More Prime Minister!?!

Dear All,
“It’s a strange world I live in.” A friend wrote to me the other day. Today, I share that sentiment completely. This morning, as I came back from my Nepali reading class, I noticed one of the colorful rickshaws that typically carry tourists around town moving unusually slowly through the street. On second glance, I realized that instead of tourists, this particular rickshaw was carrying a large black Honda street bike. Apparently, I’d stumbled on the Nepali version of a tow truck. I instantly wished I’d had my camera, but at the same time, I was surprised by how normal the incident actually seemed to me. In fact, it still seems like a completely logical way of moving a broken down bike, despite the paradoxical appearance.

Later in the afternoon, I was at home with my roomie, and she asked me if I smelled anything burning. At first, I asked if she meant the incense I had lit, but she replied, “No, it smells like wood.” I went to the door where she was standing, and without even thinking, I shrugged my shoulders and said, “Oh, torches.” She shrugged too and I went back to the chocolate chip cookie dough I was mixing as though nothing had happened. Yet, as I think about it now, it is indeed a strange place that we all have been living in for the past few weeks, since the government here in Nepal collapsed.



For those of you who may not have been following what’s been going on over here, let me catch you up. Just before my arrival in Nepal, the king abdicated his throne, and a full fledged democracy was put into place. After elections were held, it was determined that the Maoists, who had previously engaged in a ten year civil war and numerous guerilla tactics, were the dominant party and thus were tasked with heading the government and spearheading the creation of a new constitution for the “New Nepal”. But two weeks ago, the Prime Minister, the Army, and the President, all representing different interests came into conflict regarding who should be the army’s top commander. For a few days, following a news report based on leaked Army information, whispers of an eminent military coup crept through the city. My Nepali family and I kept a little closer to home than usual, and the baby’s cartoons were switched to news channels for about a week. Time went by, and the political squabbles intensified, but life in the city continued very much as it always had.

Finally, the Prime Minister tried to take power into his own hands, and he dismissed the Army Commander. The President immediately countered the move by declaring it unconstitutional and instructing the Army Commander to continue with business as usual. In a shocking move, the Prime minister then responded by resigning from his post. As this particular Prime Minister has been the most powerful man in the country for several years, (previously he was the leader of the Maoist rebel army), the move caused an uproar. The Maoist flocked to support their leader, and to counter accuse the President of behaving unconstitutionally (which is in and of itself interesting in that Nepal has only been operating under an interim constitution, because all progress towards a new full fledged constitution has been stalled by political infighting.)News reports from sources as varied as Nepal’s own Kantipur, to Al Jazeera, to the New York Times have been documenting the many strikes and protests which have followed the move. Even now, the city is dotted with protests and almost all of the political parties have been calling for the formation of yet another “new” government.

I could of course go into more detail about all this, but I suspect that at least some of you may be wondering how myself and others are affected by what is technically a state of complete anarchy. But to my surprise and delight, the affect is slight to say the least. Yes, there are protests almost every day, but they are easy to spot, and even easier to avoid. In fact, it feels a lot like trying to avoid a bad traffic jam back at home in the states. Basically, you just need to see where the streets start to become unusually packed with people, or notice when the traffic is uncommonly sparse, from there, it’s just a matter of determining what direction the strike is in and, of course, heading the other way. And other than the protests, daily life continues on pretty much just as it always has.

That said, I did witness one evening protest the other day. I was visiting Buffalo in his shop as I often do after I’ve finished the day’s work, and at first, it seemed as though there was nothing amiss. But then I saw several trucks loaded with policemen drive by. Not even five minutes later, the traffic on the road cleared (the police had set up blocks farther up the road). Another ten minutes went by before we could start to hear the chanting. The people were saying something in Nepali I didn’t understand, and Buffalo explained that it was because they were calling the President mean names, and that they were words a nice girl like me wouldn’t know. As the chanting got louder, so did the heat, and after another moment, the glow of hundreds of torches lit the street. For a full five minutes, people paraded by with torches, a few burning effigies of the president, and for a few women, their small children. And while the scene was a bit unsettling, it was far from frightening. The people were clearly angry with the government, not with each other, and the whole event had a very peaceful, though purposeful tone to it. In fact, throughout this whole ordeal, I have been continually impressed with the patience and endurance Nepalis exhibit in times of “crisis”. Dai explained it by saying that Nepalis have excellent coping skills. At times, I’m immensely impressed with the civility and calmness of the people around me, but I have to admit, that I also occasionally wonder if it is that same patience and tolerance which allows the discord in the government to continue as it does.

But in short, we’re all fine here and other than a rise in vegetable prices and an occasional detour, the difficulties are mostly the burden of the politicians at this point. While there were a few tense days, I never felt seriously afraid or concerned, and my life continues very much as it has for the past several months. So there’s no need to worry. In fact, I’m rather excited to be here at such a crucial point in Nepal’s history, especially when the people, if not the government, are handling it with such grace and fortitude.

Anyway, if you’re terribly curious about anything, please feel free to ask and I’ll be happy to elucidate. And on an unrelated note, I’ll be buying my plane ticket for a visit home in the beginning of Sept soon, so get ready, because here I come. In case you’re wondering, I miss hamburgers and ice cream the most, so if you want to meet up with me while I’m state-side, please plan on doing it at a burger joint or an ice cream parlor, otherwise I just might not have the time to meet you! :)
As always, sending my love your way!

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Auntie, Ma Sanchai Chu!

Dear all,

So I’m writing today out of a need for some literary catharsis rather than because I have anything terribly exciting to say. In fact, I’m afraid the story I’m about to tell will be a bit vague, because it involves people I hold to be very dear and I’m hyper sensitive to saying too much about them on the internet where the whole world can peek in on their lives. My sensitivity to this is heightened today by a post on one of the other blogs I follow, Janice's Blog. While the most recent blog post is unarguably an enjoyable story, I have to wonder about the prudence and sensitivity about posting it, particularly about a child. So as I also want to talk about a little one today, I hope you’ll excuse me for leaving out some of the details.

Anyway, many of you know that while I have an apartment which has been provided me by the Fulbright program, I often stay with my didi’s family in Satobato. I really enjoy staying with them because it makes my life in Kathmandu feel more homey, and because my Didi, my Dai and their beautiful two year old daughter are just a ton of fun and I love them to pieces. Staying with them has also really been a crash course in Nepali familial structure, and I’ve learned a lot of intimate details about the way Nepalis live that I think many other foreign students may miss out on. My involvement in Didi’s daughter’s life is a perfect example. In Nepali, the word for daughter is “Chori”, and while parents use the word to talk to their daughters, in sentences like “Daughter, come here.” or “Daughter, what are you doing?”, it’s culturally acceptable for many other relatives to also use the term “Chori” when addressing a small girl. Therefore, while I occasionally address my sister’s daughter by her name, I more often simply call her “Daughter”.

As I’ve written on before, kinship terms are indeed powerful words, and I’ve found that my use of this term has changed my perception of this bright little girl from being my niece, to being “our little one”. I find myself fussing over whether she’s behaving well at her preschool, what she’s eaten on a particular day, and how long of a nap she’s taken. And while I certainly don’t have as many responsibilities as her own mother when it comes to her care, I am much more involved than the typical American aunt. This has created a deeper bond, both with my Didi and with our Chori, and it’s an aspect of Nepali life I will always treasure and admire.



That said, I’ve also found that I now exhibit some very maternal feeling which I find hard to understand, as I’m (thankfully) not really a mommy. Tonight is a perfect case in point. This week I’ve been unable to stay even a single night at Didi’s house, and it looks as though the coming week will be much the same. So today, I called “home” to check in on everyone, and after chatting with Dai on the phone for a minute, a smaller gigglier voice came on the phone. “Auntie!”, she exclaimed. I started to respond, but before I could really say anything, she said “Auntie, ma sanchai chu.” In Nepali, this simply translates to “Auntie, I’m fine.” Now, I know what you’re thinking, “Ok, that makes sense.”, but that’s not at all how I responded. I was, at first, joyfully surprised, as our daughter had completed a full sentence perfectly, and even more excitingly, was learning what typical phone conversations consist of. The mommy in me beamed at how smart our two year old is getting to be. But as soon as I’d hung up the phone, I found myself feeling something else completely. I suddenly felt very very sad.

It was as if with that one sentence our daughter had crossed the border of babyhood, and was now fully a little girl. Of course, I’ve been watching this transformation with some excitement for the past several weeks now, but it was only after that brief window of absence that I realized just how much she was learning, and how quickly. And I’m excited to continue watching her grow and learn, but I’m also going to miss her baby talk. And for me, this is a strange sense of nostalgia to have. When I worked as a teacher, or even as I watched the younger kids in our family at home grow, I always noted these little achievements with pride and excitement. But now that it’s my own “chori”, I can’t fight a small sense of loss at this passing of time.

I know my own parents must also be reading this post with their own mixture of loss and pride. I’ve always been a challenging little girl to raise, but I think now that my achievements have pulled me so far from my family, the tug of both ends of the spectrum must be stronger. I know that’s true for me. The things I’ve accomplished here, and continue to accomplish, give me a sense of purpose and achievement I can’t ever imagine having obtained back home, but I’m still acutely aware of all the minutes I’m losing with all of you. Thankfully, occasionally, I can come here and write all these feelings out and send them along to you, and at least for me, it makes everything just a little bit easier.

Anyway, I guess I’m just saying what I’m always trying to tell you all; that I love and miss you no matter where I go or what I do.

Now on a lighter note: our daughter’s recent mastery of full sentences also means that I am once again in danger of being the weakest Nepali speaker in the house and if she keeps learning at this pace, she’ll be speaking English in no time. I’m trying not to let that wound my pride too badly, but I enjoyed having the ability to teach her new words in Nepali. I guess from now on, she’ll be teaching me. Oh well, at least I’ve still got her beat at reading! :)

All my love,

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But how do you live up to Noah?

I found this buried away. I don't know why I didn't publish it right away, but there seems to be no harm in doing so now. Maybe someone will have something interesting to say about it.

Dear all,

Tonight, I'm not even sure why I'm writing to you all. I've been in a funny sort of mood today and I feel like maybe I can write it out of me. I woke up this morning feeling 100% sure today was going to be something special. I just knew, and I mean knew the way you know the spring follows the winter, or the way you know that even when you can't see it, the sun is just behind the clouds..I knew today something important and magical was going to happen. It was a funny sort of feeling, just because I had no idea where it came from or what it was I was waiting for. In fact, when I find myself in these kinds of moods, I often wonder if I've finally gone and lost my mind completely. And yet, that's the feeling I had a few days before, on a whim, I agreed to take my little sister's friend's plane ticket and visit Nepal for the first time. In fact, it's a feeling I've come to know well. Sometimes, the "magic" ends up being something small, and in all fairness, I probably only noticed it because I was looking for it. But other times, this feeling means I'm changing. It means some idea, some bigger understanding is finally falling in to place and my life is about to change to reflect this new me. Unfortunately, it may also mean I've got a good week to week and a half of staring off into space and pondering things which probably never needed pondering.

But now that the day is finished, the feeling has changed. There were a million moments today that could have been magical, but I can't pick one out as being that "one" moment. And yet, now I find myself feeling as though that moment has indeed past, and now I just have to wait for the effects to finish playing out.

I'm trying to think back through the day at all those moments:
The moment I saw that one smile I've been addicted to since the first time I saw it. The only smile I've ever literally walked miles just to see. (Don't read too much in to that. It's only a smile after all)
The pride I felt when I remembered at lunch the way my little one acted the other day while we were out for a walk. (There was a big dog picking on a smaller one and she spent a good 30 minutes demanding that the big dog say sorry to the little one.)
The way I laughed at the little white lie I told while out shopping today.
The way I recovered from my self induced stress attack because one shopkeeper decided to be just a little generous.
The melting sensation I had at my massage today, and the hour of mediation that followed.
The way my heart soared and then sank at the sound of Nat King Cole's voice in the restaurant this evening.
The crash that followed talking with my brother and the amazement that some of my friends seem to have a sixth sense for when I need to hear from them.
The confusion I felt at hearing from those very friends, and not knowing where exactly they fit in to my life.
The clarity of my decision, followed immediately by a new ocean of doubt.
The words:

Even if you don't know what you want,
buy something, to be part of the exchanging flow.

Start a huge, foolish project,
like Noah.

It makes absolutely no difference
what people think of you.

Maybe it was realizing that I am in fact a lot like Mary Poppins.
Maybe it was none of these moments, or maybe it was some combination. All I know is that now I feel relaxed, and patient, and yet anxious to see what's coming.

But for now, I'm just going to bury myself deeper in Rumi and friends, and hope things sort themselves out just like they seem to be promising to.




Read more on "But how do you live up to Noah?"!

My Very Happy Birthday

Dec 16th

Dear All,

Right now, I’m writing to you from the airport in Kathmandu. Today, I’m heading back to the field where I will be staying for a few weeks. I’m so excited, but I’m also terribly nervous, as this is my first solo flight. That’s right, I’m going all the way to the field and staying there without my trusted companion Dai. Of course, everything has been arranged so that the trip will be as easy as possible and people are meeting me each step of the way. Still without Dai, it’s a totally different experience. And though I’m very nervous, the amazing day I had yesterday is carrying me through nicely. Which brings me to why I’m writing today. I wanted to thank you all for the many birthday wishes you sent my way and I wanted to tell you about the wonderful day I had.



Because I am so spoiled, my birthday really began the night before. But one of my few American friends here in Nepal invited me out as she’d noticed it was almost my birthday on Facebook (thank you Facebook). But I had no idea what a good friend I really had when I first accepted her invitation. She asked me to meet her at a Japanese restaurant near our homes and when I arrived she informed me that in addition to being a great restaurant, the place also has a wonderful traditional Japanese hot spring bath. So before I knew it, I found myself in a steaming hot bath in the middle of a bamboo garden, sipping green tea, and chatting with my friend. When we had cooked ourselves completely, we headed back inside for a warm bowl of Udon, next to a cozy fire. It was a wonderful birthday gift.

Then I went home and was fortunate enough to catch my mom, my dad, and my youngest brother at home through Skype. I always love to hear voices from home, even if it is only on the computer. After chatting for awhile, I headed off to bed, but to my surprise, bday wishes from the Nepali side started popping up on my phone just minutes after the midnight hour. By the time my alarm went off at 7 am, I already had a handful of sweet b-day texts.

Of course, birthday mornings aren’t really all that different from other mornings, so it still took me awhile to pull myself out of bed. But after awhile, I managed it and I headed over to Didi’s house. We had planned a big b-day bash with Dai’s side of the family, so we had a lot of work to do. Didi and Dai had decided we would have a strictly “American” menu, which ended up requiring a lot of shopping (The average Nepali menu just has no appreciation for cheese.)

Since I was feeling a little bummed out about officially being a year older, the motorcycle ride to the grocery store and the bakery seemed like just the thing. And to my delight, as we were driving around we passed a signboard, which made me laugh so hard I forgot all about being old. The signboard showed 5 or 6 handsome guys wearing surgical masks, and scrub shirts, but since the ad was for Jockey, all of the “doctors” pictured were in their underwear. I don’t know why it struck me as so funny but something about a poster full of half naked men in the middle of Kathmandu hit my funny bone just right.

After that shopping was a breeze, though getting it home was another story. I ended up carrying 20lbs of groceries in one hand and balancing the cake in the other as Dai navigated past the traffic, dogs, cats, cows, and children that occupy Kathmandu’s streets. I like to think I managed it with style too, but maybe that’s all in my head.

Once home, we all set to work cooking. We ended up with lasagna, salad (a rare treat because raw vegetables are often unsafe for foreigners to eat), mashed potatoes, and stuffing. I considered mentioning what an unusual “American” dinner this was, but I decided to run with it. After all, it was all yummy.

At about 6 o’clock, we finished cooking. A minute later, the power went out due to load shedding. For those of you who haven’t heard about load shedding, load shedding means that for 45 hours a week (this has since increased, we now have 18 hours without power a day) homes in Kathmandu lose power in order to conserve energy. There isn’t enough power to go around, so we all lose power, different parts of the country at different times, in order to share the burden. But the load shedding schedule is published in the newspaper, so we had planned on a candle-lit birthday. Dai had asked everyone to bring a flashlight with them and by the time all the guests had arrived, the apartment was pretty well lit.

All in all, we had 21 of us packed in to our little front room, and there was barely enough food, let alone cake (which was chocolate and just like home!) And to my surprise, though Dai had told all our guests this was a no gift event, there were quite a few really sweet gifts. Didi and Dai said it’s because everyone in our family loves me so much. I don’t know if that’s the case, but I do know I sure love all of them. It had been a bit tricky in the morning, being away from home and all, but sitting there in the dark with everyone, listening to my older brothers and my brother in law telling stories and watching the faces of my family as they laughed along made me so happy. By the time everyone gathered around to sing me happy birthday I was glowing.

But I’d be lying if I said the presents weren’t fun too! :) I got two that I really loved. The first was a small cell phone case, which I adore because my 9 year old niece brought it for me. The other, my favorite, was from my dear friend. He brought me the field notebook I’m writing in now. And while I hope to fill this notebook with more fieldnotes than blog posts, I was just so thrilled with it I had to write in it right away. And since I’m technically in the field, I better get to writing up the days notes on the next page. I love you all and whether you knew it or not, we were together on my special day yesterday!

Read more on "My Very Happy Birthday"!

Why am I posting? Because I can!

So I know it's been awhile since my last post, but my computer at home was acting up a bit and blogging at work was out of the question. And as you can see, I've been working on a blog make over. I'm happy to say that this blog is finally in it's final form. Yes, that's right this is exactly how I envisioned this blog looking. So any future changes will be minor. You have my word on that.

That's all I really had to say right now, but expect a post on my grad school search, and my ideas for a pet project in the very near future. And let me know what you think of the new look!!

Read more on "Why am I posting? Because I can!"!

A brief rant on Feminism

So I had an interesting conversation with a friend of mine today. We were discussing the upcoming Presidential election and she was telling me how strongly she was in support of Hilary Clinton. While there were a lot of things about Clinton that my friend believed would make her a good president, she was also very passionate about seeing a woman in the oval office. This led very quickly to a conversation about Feminism.

My friend is very clearly a mainstream feminist. I say mainstream because I don't want to make claims to being very well versed in the intricacies of Feminist theory, and also because I think that there is a particular breed of feminism that is very prevalent in everyday usage. This particular strain of feminism tends to see feminism as centering very much on women's abilities to have, maintain, and succeed in careers. Some of these feminists also include certain reproductive rights issues, but the most common thread seems to be career orientated.

I, however, am not a feminist, especially when it comes to the career orientated feminist theories. Unfortunately, as a female anthropologist in this day and age, I'm often assumed to be or accused of being a feminist, but in all honesty, I find the "feminism" I meet in my own daily life to be restricting and quite frankly a little degrading. I had hoped to explain this to my friend this morning, but I don't feel that I quite got the point across, so I thought I'd write about it here. There's no doubt I'll need to explain this to colleagues again and again anyway as my work progresses so I may as well take a moment to get all of my thoughts on the matter together now.

Essentially, my issue with feminism is that it still does not allow me to define or create my own sense of femininity. In trying to liberate women from traditional ideas of femininity, it refuses women the right to embrace, modify or even subvert these traditional ideas. Instead, it insists that traditional female roles must be wholly cast off. Women throughout the world have been able to use their traditional roles in unique, creative and personalized ways that have allowed them opportunities beyond what these traditional ideas seem to provide them. For example, many of the Mexican American women I know are very content in fulfilling traditional roles, but they do so in such a way that provides them with a shocking amount of power, autonomy and familial influence. But many mainstream feminists would still condemn the way these women are living and may even express disgust when one of these women makes claims of contentment.

Essentially, I take the stand that forcing me from the kitchen is equally to locking me in it. And I think this leads us to a larger question. Is, and should, feminism be a quest for equality or for freedom? Traditionally, the American Feminist movement has relied heavily on the term equality, but I have always thought that equality was merely a means to the larger goal of freedom. And if freedom is really what we are striving for, then shouldn't all women be free to express their own conceptions of female identity, whether that be in the workplace, at home, or somewhere in between?

I like to think, and perhaps I'm bending history to my own ends here, that the women who once fought for women's right within this country never meant to create a movement that would go on to restrict women in it's own ways. But it seems to me that is exactly what the feminist movement has begun to do. I don't want to be told that I must be strong and independent anymore than I want to be told that I must be weak and dependent. I know in American culture the terms strong and independent are to be without negative connotations, but, once again I disagree.

To look at this from another angle, I like to think about how this type of feminism would color my work. This view seems to hold that women who perform the wife/mother roles are, without exception, unfulfilled, unhappy (whether they realize it or not) and in some minds, not contributing meaningfully to society. To hold this view would require me to enter a village where most women continue to behave according to traditional ideas of femininity believing that all of the women there are discontented and oppressed. However, based on the short time I've spent at my fieldsite, I find this enormously hard to believe. The women I met generally seemed to be reasonably contented with their lives, had varying degrees of freedom, and were contributing to their community by caring for the next generation, but also in economic ways like weaving, bartering, and various other pursuits. While I there are probably many un-lived dreams in this community of women, I find it difficult to condemn their lives completely.

In short, I fully acknowledge that women all over the world lead lives that are much more difficult than their male counterparts. I agree that women deserve to be valued equally to men, and that they should have the freedom to decide their own lives. But I strongly disagree that condemning tradition roles and ideas in bulk makes any real steps towards rectifying this. I feel that the best way to improve the lives of women around the world is to work more towards giving women the ability to make choices for themselves, even if that means choosing to accept the roles traditionally place upon them.

Alright, I'll probably have more thoughts on this later. But before I run off to bed, I do want to put a general disclaimer on this posting. I don't claim to really know the answer to anything. This is what makes the most sense to me now from the viewpoint I'm currently inhabiting. My opinions can, and hopefully will, develop as I learn more and get glimpses of other viewpoints. So if you disagree so wholeheartedly that it makes you ill, please try and sit tight, because I fully acknowledge that my opinion may change.

"With consistency a great soul has simply nothing to do." -- Emerson Read more on "A brief rant on Feminism"!

And down and down we go!

Today was quite a rollercoaster. There were some highs, there were some lows, and there were even a couple screams. But the fact that I'm writing this is proof that I survived to blog another day. Man, I'm one tough cookie. ;)

This morning my alarm went off at 8 o'clock just like it always does, but I must have had a premonition that today was a day where I would be much safer in bed, because not only did I hit snooze, but I set an additional alarm in between the snoozes. That means that my alarm went off every three minutes right up until 8:30. That's a phenomenal feat of laziness for me, but somehow I managed to pull it off. After a full half hour of obnoxious alarm noises, I managed to get out of bed, but I was running terribly late and barely had time to throw some coolant in the car before I left. (I've decided to rename the car from Sissy to Posie. I think Posie fits her better because now when I'm angry I can call her POS for short. :P ) I missed the bus from the commuter lot but I managed to make it to work just in time. It was a beautiful morning though, so I decided to give the day the benefit of the doubt and I was in a decent mood as I settled in to my desk.

That's when the day really started to fall apart. My office computer refused to start up and I sheepishly had to bug our IT department for help. As the nicest IT person in the whole world coaxed my computer back into consciousness, my phone went off. I glanced at the caller id to see who was calling as I fumbled to quickly silence my very loud Stevie Ray Vaughn ring tone. It was my mom. And that was the first big drop of the day. My mom never calls me when I'm at work unless some thing's wrong. I abandoned the still in progress computer therapy session to call my mom back. She was sobbing when she answered the phone. Our 15ish year old dog had finally gotten too sick to go on, and my mom had made The Appointment. She was heartbroken. And while I was upset about the dog, I was devastated by the sound of my mom crying. Death is something I expect from life, and so it doesn't bother me as much as it does most people. But even now thinking about listening to my mom this morning makes me teary...ugh, moving on.

I returned to my desk and after another hour we had both the computer and the email system up and running. Fortunately, I was very productive for th next few hours and was starting to feel a little bit better about the day..for a little while. As the afternoon went on, the slight discomfort in my neck started to turn into an ache and that can mean only one thing: Migraine. Sure enough, by 3:30, I was in full migraine mode. I was cranky, nauseous and most of all, in pain.

At about 4:30, the sky outside my window got dark. Now, I know that I'm moving to a country that is known for it's horrendous monsoon season, but the truth of the matter is, thunderstorms terrify me. I manage to do alright at home, but if I'm out and about, I feel more like a 5 year old than a 25 year old. I took this as a sign that it was time to go. I asked my boss not to notice that I was sneaking out early and took off in the hopes of beating the rain. I didn't beat it. Instead it caught me, sans umbrella, on my way to the car.

So I rushed to the car, doing my best drowned kitten impression and headed towards the freeway. On my way there two things happened; the heat gauge on my car started speedily climbing (apparently, it's the only part of my car that still moves quickly) and I got stuck in awful traffic. So now I'm sitting in traffic with the the heat on full blast and the windows open despite the pouring rain, trying not to let my migraine get the best of me. I jumped off the highway at the next exit, hit up a gas station for a quick coolant refill and headed towards the only other exit out of town. No luck, that was backed up too.

At this point, my head is pounding, I'm soaking wet, my car is so hot I feel like I'm boiling myself, my car is still overheating and I'm back in the traffic jam I started out in. Fortunately, desperate prayers and coolant go a long way, and I finally made it out of traffic and safely home.

I decided that this was a good time for ice cream (my second serving of the day, but I needed the help) and a nap. The ice cream was expectedly delicious, but the nap just wasn't happening. My head just hurt too bad to sleep. Fortunately, my mom called again to say she was feeling better and to find out if I had any migraine meds left. Of course I didn't. I have a scrip for them, but they are crazy expensive, so I usually treat them like emergency miracles and only take them when I have a daytime appointment or work activity that can not be missed. Mom told me that she had some extra pills at the house that I could have, so I decided to splurge and take one, even though it was after hours. (For all you migraine sufferers out there, I highly recommend Amerge, it's amazing!)

The result: Several headache free productive hours. I managed to send all six of the social emails that were outstanding, get registered for my GRE, get my passport stuff in order, get some of my Nepal trip networking done, take care of my brother's bday gift, find a concert my dad would be interested in seeing before I leave, and write an incredibly long and maybe slightly boring blog post. But I'm proud of myself for making some use of this day despite all of my setbacks.

Phew, alright, I think that's it. I'm going to go get that well deserved good night's sleep now! Read more on "And down and down we go!"!

Let's all pretend like this is real work

So I really really ought to be working on my IRB proposal like I promised my sister I would do tonight, but instead I'm writing to you. But because we both know you're a good friend, let's just pretend like this really is helping me prepare for my trip in some way. After all, the key to being a good writer is practice, right?

Actually, I am glad to be writing tonight. It's been an awfully odd week and it'll be nice to get some of it out. Yesterday was one of the hardest days I've had in a very long time. Unfortunately, I didn't handle it like much of a champ either. Instead, I allowed myself to completely sink in to my "I don't feel happy...somebody please love me..." mode. And while that's not the end of the world, it's actually an exhausting feeling and it doesn't go very far towards figuring out what's actually bothering me. However, thanks to some quiet time and (no surprise here) a few very kind and patient friends, I've been able to figure out what was causing me such heartache. The thing is I've been acutely more lonely and more self conscious lately. And I know that's something that everyone goes through from time to time, but I'm glad to say that overall these are unusual feelings for me. So the surface issue was just that I was having a hard time dealing with feelings I'm not really accustomed to.

But there's another level to the problem too. I think that I've been feeling lonely because I'm so aware of all the wonderful relationships I'm about to leave behind when I move and I'm self conscious because I feel terribly guilty for doing so. So the upside of the issue is that I was feeling bad because I know how lucky and happy I am. More importantly, now that my feelings aren't just some foggy gray haze, I can start to think through them. And once I can think through something, I know every thing's going to be just fine. So long as there is thinking to go with whatever it is that I'm feeling, I'm generally in pretty good shape. It's when I go on a long feeling binge that I'm in trouble.

But enough of that, I'm pretty sure that none of you are all that interested in how I managed to work through my bad day. In all fairness, I did try to think of something more substantial to write to you about, but I really haven't stumbled across any gems lately. My friend suggested that I write about how wonderful and sexy I think he is, but I'm not sure how much space that would take. And I think I'm probably much more interesting anyway. No? Really? Not even a little bit? Alright, I guess I'll call it a night then.

Until I have something super exciting... Read more on "Let's all pretend like this is real work"!

Responsiblity? Where did that come from?

Wow! So last week sometime, I had a mini epiphany. For a long time, having large projects would fill me with so much anxiety, that I would freeze and not accomplish much of anything. And while I could sometimes push through it, I never felt like I did as much as I could/should do, and I was never happy with how projects ended. Needless to say with my Nepal trip coming up, there was a lot of things beginning to pile up and I was starting to doubt my ability to pull this off, and that's where the epiphany came in. The funny thing is, it really came as a small piece of advice from a friend. I asked him what he did to accomplish big projects and he said that instead of making lists he just picked off the small things one at a time to get them out of the way and then when the little stuff was gone he could focus on the big stuff.

So here's my epiphany:
Lists cause me to freak out.



It's not the work that needs to be done. It's not that I can't handle a whole bunch of things. There's just something about long lists that scare me senseless. So I stopped looking at the lists and just tackled whichever of the tasks I felt most like doing at the time and Voila! I am productive, responsible, and actually looking forward to my trip!!!! And I haven't gotten rid of the list all together. It's still sitting in my notebook, but I only look at it every couple of days. I know what needs to be done and I'm perfectly capable of completing it. Hooray for me!

Alright, I know that wasn't as exciting for the rest of you as it was for me, but it is good news for all of you. Wanna know why? Because now taking care of my blog isn't on one of my lists, so I enjoy it even more. Hooray for me again!

Ok, ok, this is general ranting getting to the extreme. I promise to write something more meaningful soon. Read more on "Responsiblity? Where did that come from?"!

Hooray Day!

So today was another totally wonderful day. It started out like any other day, which means my car threatened to over heat from the moment I put the key in the ignition and I rushed in to the office like I had no idea that morning would come so early, but once the afternoon rolled around the magic started to show. And no surprise here, the magic started as soon as I met up with one of my old professors. Not only did he have some really encouraging and exciting things to say about grad school, but it was great to sit down and just hear about all the cool things he's been up to lately. It's so nice to be able to watch people that I care about and that I look up to succeed in such astounding ways.



It was also really nice to sit down and talk about anthropology and what we do without having to impress anyone or try and throw out names and theories like I'm in a spelling bee. One of the things that I particularly like about this professor is that he shares my passion for people's stories. I, probably naively, gushed about how I loved the "beating heart" in what we do, and how I felt that those ethnographies that removed themselves too far from the people they were discussing had missed the point of what we do. I love that my professor seemed excited to hear me say that. It really helped to change my thinking about applying to his program for my PhD. Not that I'm saying I've made any decisions, but after today's meeting, I'm much more comfortable with the idea of sticking around for awhile.

I had also intended to talk about kinship terms a little more today. Mostly because I spent sometime with my sisters this evening and we all laughed so much that my throat and face hurt, but the clock keeps catching my eye and making that "it's time to go" hand gesture. So I think I'll head off to bed. I'm sure I'll have plenty of other opportunities to gush about how much I adore kinship terms on other occasions.

Oh and just for the record, I promised the meanest one of my friends I'd make a note about how nice he was today. So for the record, meanie wasn't awful today. There, promise kept. And now I'm off to bed. Read more on "Hooray Day!"!

Bummer! :(

So I was hesitant to write tonight, because I'm not a huge fan of whining, but rather than go to sleep grumpy I thought I'd at least make an attempt at writing it out. So I'm sitting here in front of the computer pouting, because I'm sitting here in front of the computer. It's 11:30 on a Saturday night, and I want to be out dancing, instead of sitting at home. I realize that it's very silly of me to being feeling as sorry for myself as I am. After all, I spent all afternoon with a lot of my amazing friends, laughing, eating, drinking a bit, and generally being jovial. And yesterday, I did nothing but dance. I went from work to bahini's house and meetini was teaching me (or at least trying very hard to) how to dance to Hindi music. After that I went straight to swing dancing and danced for 2 hours. And then after that, I went to the salsa club in town and danced for another 3 hours. It was pretty much a perfect day. But I had still hoped that I would be out dancing again tonight and I'm disappointed that our usual Saturday night has been canceled due to work and car troubles.

I have two dear friends, that I will call the Chicas, that I adore and that I see twice a week on dancing nights. And part of the reason I adore dancing as much as I do is because of them. We have so much fun together and going out with them has had such a positive effect on my life. Before I started dancing with the Chicas, my single status was a constant worry of mine. I missed my ex, I hated being along, and I worried about never finding anyone special. But dancing with the Chicas has been such a liberating experience. Some of my friends worry that I am going out to meet guys and they disapprovingly warn me that the men I'll meet at the clubs are generally going to be womanizers or partiers. But for me the joy of dancing, esp with my Chicas, is that it makes me relish my single status. I can go to a club where there are plenty of guys who want to get to know me (read into that what you will) and my emotional response is genuinely, "oh, I'm sorry, but this is far more fun without you." It's like I've taken an activity that many see as focused on bringing the opposite sexes together, and learned to enjoy it all on my own. I could go on and on about how dancing with the Chicas has taught me to enjoy my single life and really helped me not only to stop worrying about dating, but to even turn down dates with some really cool guys. I never thought that I would be the kind of person to relish being single, but lately I really do. I had always thought that people who said that kind of thing were either lying or really saying that they enjoyed being promiscuous, but lately, I'm coming to understand. Granted, I still have days, no weeks, where I hate being single more than anything, but I'm learning to put those in perspective and dancing is really the key to that for me.

But I'll stop there. I had no intention of writing on and on like this. I just wanted to cheer myself up and I think reflecting on just how happy dancing makes me did just the trick. Still, I think I'll turn some music on and have a little dance party of my own, just for good measure. :) Read more on "Bummer! :("!

Just a moment

Well, I only want to write for a moment because I should be off to bed, but I just had to say this out loud somehow. Today was perfect. The sun was warm and bright. The people I love were all around me, and were happy, healthy, and safe. And my life is over flowing with the potential for amazing things. And it's all that much better, because I know how good it is. I don't care what anyone else says, gratitude is the purest form of joy. This is the third "best week ever" in the last two months, and I'm so excited for tomorrow, just because it's another day and another chance for something amazing to happen. Alright, that's all for now. Thanks for listening. Read more on "Just a moment"!

Day 2, Can you believe it!?!

Alright, so it looks as though blogging is going to be a dangerous time suck. I should be writing right this second, and I even want to be writing, but after spending alllllll (did you get the emphasis there?) day learning about how to customize blogger, I really wanted to come and play with it a bit. End result? I mangled the thing beyond recognition and had to revert to a template. But sometime this weekend, I'll start writing the html for a new and much more Bally-esque blogger page. Which actually fits in nicely with the paper I'm going to start any minute now. I'm comparing the Arts and Crafts movement (ie craft mafia, stitch n' bitch and all the rest) with the resurgence of hand woven traditional garments in my field site. Hey, wake up, it's interesting, I swear. :) So that's next on the to do list. After that I need to get ready for tomorrow's concert and then crawl in to that amazing mass of satin, pillows and fluffy blankets that I spend all day missing. Just the thought of it makes me feel safe and warm. Ahhhhhhh.

Ok, back from my moment of bliss. Today was a great day. I accomplished quite a bit at work today, and was able to cross off a few things from my project list. More importantly, I spent the evening with two of my Nepali sisters, which is always amazing. Fast fact about my life: I know the most amazing people in the whole world. Who has cool friends? I have cool friends! And I'm not talking cool enough to date the homecoming king/queen cool. I'm talking big hearts, quick minds cool. But I should stop while I can.

I was trying to tell you about hanging out with my sisters. So I have a huge Nepali family. Tonight I mostly spent time with Bahini and Sundari. Bahini is one of the freest spirits I've ever met. In many ways, she's everything I've ever wanted to be. She's brave, amazingly smart, and her openess is truly awe inspiring. But as she is my only little sister, I find myself feeling ridiculous protective and concerned when it comes to her. So when she said she was worried about seeing Sundari tonight, I went into hyper-mothering mode. I hope I didn't smother her too much. But she seemed to be doing much better when I dropped her back at her place. Ugh, it's getting late and this is really rambly. I'll try and fill you in more tomorrow! Goodnight dear! Read more on "Day 2, Can you believe it!?!"!

The First Post

So this blog has been born, not of my great desire to unload my thoughts on the rest of you, but out of the need to force myself to do some writing, and more importantly, to prepare myself for the coming year. Next year, I hope with every teeny tiny etsy bitsy molecule of my heart to be living and working in Nepal. But since dreams have quick wings, and committees work slowly, I'm currently living in student researcher limbo, planning big and living, well living like next year I'll be living on Pluto or some equally distant planet. As you may be able to tell from my tone, blogging is not something I really wanted to get in to for a number of really great reasons. First of all, as much as I need to write, developing the general "blogger" voice is not going to get me anywhere. If you don't know what I'm talking about, spend a little while reading blogs, go on, I'll wait. After the first couple, have you noticed how everyone starts to sound like the same writer? It's kind of like how all newspaper articles sound like there's only one omnipresent, decidedly average, reporter in the world. Yeah, don't want that, don't need that, honestly, terrified of becoming that. But I promised all of those that I love so dearly, (yes, that means you!!!) that I would stay in touch and keep everyone updated when I leave and this seems like a good way to do it. The next two reasons are mutually exclusive, but I'm certain one of them will prove to be true. Either, I'm going to find myself wasting needless time writing posts out of some egotistical delusion that people really deeply and importantly care, or I'm going to completely neglect this page. Unfortunately, both are serious problems. I don't have time to spend writing. Most days breathing is a carefully scheduled activity. Don't get me wrong, busy is great and I love fitting as much as I can in to every precious moment I've got, but busy takes time, lots of it. But I also need to work on discipling myself when it comes to recording day to day events. Anthropological field work is not about remembering an interesting tidbit here and there, it's about careful observation. That will require me to journal every single day. So there's the up and the down of blogging. It's become a necessary evil.

Alright, I think that's enough explanation. I know I'm thoroughly bored now. Let's see if I can't think of anything interesting to write about. Nope, guess not. Congrats, you're off the hook and you can stop reading now. So please, turn off your computer and go do something awesome (like dancing, you should go dance...really it's good for you). :) Read more on "The First Post"!