The art of Nepali Transportation

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06-11-FEB-2008

WORK
I head to the hospital for a follow up visit for Bijit (8)- the young boy that had been having debilitating headaches and stomach cramps. It seems that whatever meds they'd prescribed for him are working their wonders, and he's feeling much better now. While I'm there, I arrange a next-day appointment for Pawan Raj's (13) chronic right ear infection. He's completely non-responsive to antibiotics.

The next day, we trek the 1-1.5h journey to the hospital only to discover at the check-in desk that the ENT doctor is on leave. As if no one was aware of this the day before when I made the appointment. I am extremely frustrated and defeated. But lapses in communication are commonplace here, and getting worked up about it isn't going to do any good. I just have to hold out with their way of doing things for a few more weeks yet...

I put together hospital fun bag to keep the kids preoccupied during these incessant hospital, clinic and doctor visits.

I finally beat the power cuts and manage to finish the January report for my orphanage. I begin on February because you've got to use the power when it's available.

We have a health meeting in the office to discuss plans for the month, with TWO upcoming vaccination days, including all the children at our six sponsored homes for meningococcal meningitis. I enjoy my responsibilities and little personal projects here.

One the way to the monthly health check at BFCH (one of VSN's homes), I am immobilized between three other people in the second row of the jeep. I cannot move any part of my my body besides my face. Paul reads my mind halfway there and asks if anyone wants to ride on top of the jeep with him. Heck yes! I climb up the spare tire on back and onto the luggage rack. I bring my sweater to sit on this time, remembering the painful bumpy road before. I am having a blast and am not drooling all over myself this time- my skill in Nepali transportation has shot up exponentially. During the bumpy dirt road up to the home in Bistachhap, my feet are wedged directly in front of me in the luggage rack, keeping me firmly secured and I challenge myself to not hold on with my hands. The others cannot figure out why I would do such a thing but I cannot figure out why not. It takes a certain amount of balance, anticipation, and proper coordination of key leg muscles. At the end of the affair, I have distinct deep impressions in my ankles, but yes, I have survived. And I have had much more fun than everyone else.

I pass on the health check documentation responsibility to one of the new February volunteers, who is an instant pro. It's nice working with people who can figure a bit of things out on their own. She is awesome! =)

Unfortunately, one of the other volunteers is a bit difficult to work with since she's majorly evasive. When I try to give her the responsibility of the morning health check, disappears or runs off into town for days at a time. I simply cannot track her down! So lo and behold, with the exception of a couple days in January, I've conducted all daily health checks solo without a new buddy. It was certainly nice having Steve at Charity with me, as it's more fun having someone to share the experience with.

I've lost count of how many visas I've had here but I think it's 6 by now. The Nepali government had decided to move the immigration office without warning to some unknown location. Once I finally track the place down, I find that it's in one of the most inaccesable parts of town to tourists, at absolutely the farthest point within city limits from the tourist district... but I am not surprised. I take care of business, but will need to return in two weeks again unless I want to overstay my visa while trekking (I don't).

PERSONAL
My Christmas package from the DeVilbii clan has arrived! I am so excited! Once the post office worker and I manage to finally locate the package in a back room amidst piles of packages from all over the world aimlessly strewn about, the process takes an additional 45 minutes. This consists of filling out various forms, tracking back and forth between different rooms, paying miscelaneous customs fees and watching the customs officer rip open my beloved package in front of my eyes. There goes the surprise, thaaaanks. As soon as I initially walk into the cold, concrete, windowless room, I noticed that the customs 'department' smells unmistakably like urine... but at least they gave me milk tea while I waited. Tea at the international post office- charming!

After the package had been ripped open and nosed through I find that the excessive process dampens my excitement a bit, until that is, I discover all of my American candies I am unable to get over here. They last no longer than 24 hours. But in my defense, I do share the Laffy Taffys. The hair dye is perfect except for thaaaaat it exploded in transit. Oh well, these things happen.

And I am very much excited about the kids goodies that had been packed- I will be giving them to the children in my family here when I finally depart, they will undoubtedly love the 'American' things. But, unfortunately, Bing Crosby will have to wait until next year. I did manage to hear a couple Bing songs during the holiday season regardless, fear not. For those of you who are not aware, our family Christmas music consists entirely of Bing Crosby- it is simply not Christmas without him... and my father's beautiful accompaniment. THANKS FAM, love you!

I've been dropping by my wool shop on occasion to have tea with the owners, but have pretty much dropped this knitting business for now. Their daughter, Serena (16), is extremely sweet. I'd much rather socialize with all of them over milk tea anyway.

My family starts giving me gifts every few days in anticipation of my imminent departure. First are earrings from Laxmi, the eldest girl (16), the adopted daughter of the family. Then are a few more pairs of earrings from the younger girls (10), and an elaborate necklace from Aama.

I've been trying to stay up later than usual, even amidst the nightly power cuts, because I want to spend as much time as possible with my family before I go. One evening baa after baa arrives home, driving through the center of the house on his motorbike as always, we start talking about my departure at the end of the month. They want me to come back and visit in March once I'm finish trekking even though I will no longer be volunteering (and they will subsequently no longer be receiving any compensation from VSN). He tells me, "You are family. You can come here and say, 'Aama, malai bhok lagyo! (Mother I am hungry!)' and we will give food and place to stay. You are always welcome here." They've made the second part of my stay here so much more meaningful.

Back on the subject of Nepali transportation, I am now a pro at hanging out the bus door without hesitation. The bus boy is always trying to make me put my head inside, but it's hot in there and I am too tall! I would much rather be outside in the refreshing breeze! On one particular ride home after dark, my inhibitions with talking to fellow passengers have mysteriously vanished (credit it to the darkness). I am surprisingly able to maintain conversations with everyone on the bus in Nepali and everyone is laughing (probably at me, but I do not care) and having a jolly old time. I am so excited at how much of the language I am now able to understand.

I locked my key in my room, but THIS family actually had a spare... imagine the concept of that!

I cannot bear the idea of not having my camera on me. So when I arrive into town to stay for the night, I drop my stuff off at the hotel and manage to catch the exact same bus back home, once it's looped around town. The bus boy says something and everyone is obviously laughing at me, and the same thing happens during my trip back into town. Either I caught the same bus three times in a row, or these bus boys are all mysteriously networked. I'd think they'd have better things to talk about, but I guess they don't see much of the whiteys. I am quite the novelty, you know. On that note, there are always people watching or staring at me. I cannot do anything without someone knowing. Among other things, this makes it very difficult if I have an inconvenient itch or need to pick my nose. But then again, people pick their nose here as if it's going out of style so I really shouldn't be concerned about doing the latter.

While gift shopping in town, I run into an older gentleman shop owner. Unlike all of the high-pressure shopkeepers who act as your shadow, he is extremely welcoming, a refreshing change from what I have become accustomed to here. He gives me my space as I rummage about his treasures. His starting prices are about a third of what all others are for the exact same items and I cannot get over how reasonable everything is. He says that, "Money doesn't really matter, it's the gods who are important." I like this guy, and not just because he is selling cheap stuff. I feel extremely guilty bargaining, so only do to a minimal extent. I do not have enough money for all my goodies, and he says I can take the stuff now and return later to pay him. Though his offer is touching, I have no problem paying half and leaving the goods with him until I return with the rest of the money. His honesty and trust are so refreshing. He reminds me of Grandpa Paul, with a solid, dignified air about him.

My weekly shower is cut short because it's devastatingly only lukewarm. But it is warmer than the air and that is the major hurdle. The power is surprisingly on but I have forgotten my hair dryer so endure a chilly evening with wet hair and no heat. Whenever I do bring the hair dryer the power is off. That evening, I toss and turn all night long due to the cold without my big blanket and sleeping bag. If my host family had hot water, I would NEVER stay in town.

I indulge in a small slice of chocolate cake to celebrate my half birthday! It's the first time since realization of my weight gain I've gone for cake, but it is a special occasion so I must. Either that or the countless devil's food cupcakes of half birthdays past. I'm not doing too bad with eating primarily healthy, or at least unprocessed food most of the time now and it is begining to show.

I love samosas! Besides rotis, they are one of the main 'fast food' items of Nepal, where they are ready at the fronts of little cookeries at all times.

There are men that wheel around wheeled carts containing various roasted nuts and legumes and corn. You order a bit for a mid-day snack and they put it in conical or envelope shaped scrap paper. I'd not ordered any of my own before, so one day I went nuts and got a big heap of them. My fingers were black from the grime of the city but I have been here long enough, I have simply ceased to care. That, and I seem to believe I have developed an invincible digestive tract. I didn't even use hand sanitizer before popping the roasted bits into my mouth.

Daniel is a volunteer who's been working at GPPM, a home close to Charity since the beginning of January. During his send-off dinner, I am bragging about my invincible immune system. I proceed to eat everyone's vegetable leftovers regardless that one of the girls is getting over being sick. I don't like to waste. Living in a developing country, I've certainly learn to eat everything I'm served.

So with these last two incidents compounded together, it is really no surprise why I proceeded to come down with a definite stomach problem the next day. That night, I wake up at least every hour with severe stomach cramps. And upon waking, the sympoms are accompanied by a solid headache. Though the details are hilarious, you will be spared. I cannot eat anything, am completely incompacitated and sleep for most the day- 16 out of 24 hours! My family tries to give me metronidazole and paracetamol but I simply will not have it, as Steve has taught me well. I try to explain why it's better to 'get all the bad stuff out', and they seem to understand... though they proceed to ask every hour if I'd taken it yet. But it is so nice knowing they care! Due to my fussy belly, they give me a refreshing apple and pomegranite snack mid-afternoon. My issues completely resolve by midnight, so the entire ordeal lasts only 24 hours. Though I slept most of the previous day, I have absolutely no problem sleeping through the night. I must have needed it!

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Photos

On top of the jeep!
It was a blast.

Reena!
is wearing my gloves (obviously).

Tuk-tuk land
Tuk-tuk's are those white three-wheeled electrically charged vehicles (like golf carts). I will ride in one before I go!

Wolf skin
These squatter men from India were living in a homemade tent in a field, hunting in the nearby woods for food. Apparently they got a wolf.

Nepali house
I love the clay ones- so rustic!