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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