blood in the streets

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Just when I think I’ve got Nepali culture figured out, more crazy shit happens that I don’t understand. The other morning as I was walking to the main road to get a taxi, I passed a huge puddle of blood right in the middle of the street. It didn’t look like anything had been hit. There were flower petals and rice and tikka and bowls made of leaves scattered on the ground around it, so probably a sacrifice.

Today as I was walking to meet a friend for dinner, I found myself in the middle of a parade. There were women dressed in red and black saris with red flowers in their hair, carrying supplies for offering to the gods. Men were dressed in black kurtas with white ribbons tied around their necks, and some of them had on tall white hats that looked like a hat a chef would wear. There were horns and drums and symbols, some people carrying what looked like a chair for a royalty figure, and even a man with a goat’s head in a basket. The waiter at the restaurant nearby told me it was a temple festival, but that’s the extent of the details I was able to gather.

When I came back from dinner the band was still playing nearby, so I grabbed my camera and headed back out. A man passed me and saw my camera, so stopped and stuck out his hand for me to shake and said, “I’m sorry!” with a huge smile. For what, I don’t know. He then said, “You are fine?”

“Yes, yes. Sanchhai hunucha? ”

“Oh! What a beauty!” and he continued smiling and mumbling as he walked away. I laughed as I walked away because it was such a bizarre interaction.

I didn’t get many good photos of the parade, but I was of interest to the people standing around in the neighborhood, particularly the little kids who kept asking my name and giggled when I asked back, but in Nepali instead of English.

Yesterday Deepti and I ran an abbreviated version of my sexual health program at the NGO that trains sex workers in other job skills. I wasn’t doing it for data collection, but sort of as a reciprocation of favors for the organization since I have been conducting interviews there. About 40 young women (90%!o(MISSING)f which work in the sex industry) were crammed into a little room in the building. They sat on cushions on the floor, notebooks and pens ready.

Deepti ran most of the discussion because few spoke English. We did our usual condom demonstrations and talked about why it is important for women to learn about sex, but after that we opened it up for discussion. Several women passed forward little pieces of paper with questions on them.

Most of the questions were lists of symptoms with the question as to whether or not it was an STI. And frankly, some of the symptoms sounded so disgusting it was hard for me to keep a straight face while answering. Another common question was why a woman experienced pain during sex. With so many of these women having sex with strangers against their will or out of sheer necessity, it’s no wonder they get no pleasure out of it.

Clearly I did not have enough time to touch on all that is important about women’s sexual health in the span of 2 hours, but the women were grateful for the little bit we did discuss. And hopefully those with symptoms will go to a doctor, because the symptoms they described sounded very serious. Another day that was tough for me to handle, but at least I can say I’m doing the little bit I can to make a difference. Deepti and I go back on Friday for more interviews.

Yesterday afternoon was much more uplifting. I went to the Family Planning Association to pick up more female condoms, and then stopped by their HIV Hotline office to visit a couple of women who had participated in my program. I sent them a message the day before telling them I would be stopping by sometime in the afternoon. When I arrived they said, “We have been waiting all day for your arrival!”

The hotline is a toll free number that anyone in the country can call and ask any questions they have about any sexual health issues. The most common questions they get are regarding HIV, but they get other questions for everything from premature ejaculation to “animism” (having sex with animals) to why birth control gives a woman acne. The women who are the hotline counselors came to my program because they wanted to improve their knowledge so as to better serve their callers.

They served me some purple Kool Aid type drink and showed me their call log book and SPSS printout of all the stats on their calls. They asked for my advice on how to improve their hotline program, and so I gave them a few suggestions (like printing cards or fliers with the number on it) and told them to keep up the good work. (What do I know about running a hotline, really? I was just making shit up.) They then lined up with me in the middle and took turns taking photos of us with their camera phones. Reknu, one of the women, told me she has been looking forward to coming back for the follow-up survey all month.

This morning I had morning dhal bhaat at a woman’s house who is in the Education department at Tribhuvan University. She wrote me a letter of support when I was first applying for the Fulbright, and this was the first chance I had to meet her. We had traditional Nepali food, half of which was unidentifiable to me. I had jack fruit for the first time, some flower achhar, and another root that she did not know the English word for. She went to school at UMass, and her daughters are in college in Ottawa, so we talked about the U.S. and Canada for a while, as well as the benefits (and disadvantages) of being in academics.

I’m glad I have a pretty busy schedule until I leave, especially because I received the news that my grandfather may have stage IV cancer. He just went into the hospital a day ago, so tests are still being done, but that’s what it looks like. Sitting around by myself gives me a lot of time to think about it and feel somber. Times like this I hate being so far away, even though there’s not much I could do if I were home. But just being there and being able to call people or having the ability to drive to see family on short notice if I wanted is something. I’m so glad I’m going home soon.

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