Achoo! *cough*, *cough*...

Maybe I shouldn’t write on my blog when I’m sick like a sneezy dog with nasal incontinence… maybe it would give the whole entry somewhat of a foggy grey haze if I were writing with muscle pains all over, a red irritated nose, and a very significantly shortened concentration span… but oh well, here I go.

I wanted to let everyone know of our plans for the next few weeks… because it is the cause of some concern for both of us.

I’m leaving alone for the Mid-West on Sunday for an indeterminate period of time (up to 3 weeks). Unfortunately, we weren’t able to get to Ghorahi due to new strikes. I will be staying in hotels, eating whatever food available, and missing Clayton like crazy. The purpose of the trip is to interview about 24 private health providers in two representative regions: a terai and hill district. This will be done in Nepali…Lord, Help Me!... and I will then be analyzing the information for NFHP and for U. of Toronto.

The situation in the Terai is unstable. The elections are approaching and academic deadlines are hovering over me. Prayers would be appreciated…

Six wonderful months*

(*except for a few very minor incidents, none of which are worth mentioning here)

Hint: kitchen + french toast + Catherine-Anne = smoke inhalation

Faces from other incarnations II

Last weekend we also got the chance to return to Gandaki Boarding School in Pokhara, where I taught 11 years ago. Way back then, I accepted an eight-month position with United Mission to Nepal teaching computer science to high school students at GBS. I had a fantastic, though occasionally interesting, time. Much to my delight, a surprisingly large number of my students have ended up in computer science, and some of them even credit me with having kindled their interest in the area. I also wrote a kickass 3-D, networked, multiplayer game called Hawk while I was there (in a scant 580 lines of C code!), but that’s another story.

So, being back. It was quite an emotional experience for me. That piece of my life felt like it was disconnected from the rest. Indeed, no one from my life in Canada had ever met anyone from my life there, and I felt a strange need for closure on the time.

Fortunately, a few of the teachers who are still there from 11 years ago remembered me, and one even remembered my last name and exactly which of his classes I had attended. “Clayton? As in Clayton Grassick?” (followed by exclamations about how different I look now). I don’t see it myself...

The campus, with the exception of some new buildings, looks pretty much identical and I was able to show Catherine-Anne where I had taught, played badminton, lived, and even the boys’ toilet in which I camped out to prevent students from cheating.

The most touching moment was when by chance I ran into my former didi (house help) who recognized me and who had spent 8 months cooking for me, doing my laundry, and cleaning. I told Catherine-Anne about her fantastic fried rice, and she reminisced about making pancakes for me (the making of which, incidentally, visibly depleted my bottle of cooking oil).

A very strange feeling to be back. One of the teachers invited us to attend the cultural event at the school that was planned for the next day, but I felt like it was enough just to see it one more time. And to have C-A see that part of my past.

Now it's my turn (with a little luck) to see Ghorahi later this week and experience her world.

Nepali men hitting on my wife

(I mean, wouldn't you?)

Fortunately, Nepali men are also on the shy side, so I didn't have to get medieval on anyone.

Nepali wedding receptions are fun, but the lack of dancing at this particular one was a definite minus. In fact, after you eat, the next order of business is to simply leave. Weird. But the florescent yellow plastic palm tree decoration consoled me immensely.

Critical journalism

Some of you have been worried about the security situation here with the blockade, strikes, shootings, fuel crisis and upcoming elections. I'm happy to report that you can set your mind at ease:

(click to see the full-size version)

In other news, some fuel trucks reached the capital city today. So there's hope at least for this particular piece of the crisis to be resolved.

Faces from other incarnations

Getting out of Kathmandu was needed this last weekend. Being unable to head to Ghorahi was a test of my emotional continence, but our trip to Pokhara has honestly fulfilled many of my hopes.
It was a time to relax, enjoy the restful feel of Lakeside – with a simple rooftop room for two nights, and seeing good friends again.

Seeing Carol, our friend from Toronto who will be working with INF for a year, was a highlight. Visiting her home and her work, and meeting her lovely roommate were great… She will be working as a biomedical engineer at Green Pastures (GP) Hospital – a very special hospital serving leprosy, spinal cord injury, and burn patients according to a profoundly Christian ethos. INF runs the hospital and I’ve transferred patients from Ghorahi to GP for their high quality care.

There were two people I was very touched to meet again at GP. First of all, this man who recognized me when I explained to him that I went to him to pray for my uncle Charlie when he was ill 4 years ago. He is a significant leader in the Christian church, mostly ministering to those who have lost much, such as he has from illness and seclusion. He was saddened to know that Charlie did eventually pass away, but I was encouraged to see and hear him tell me of all of the wonderful work he is doing.

The other special face is this lady – a blind and deaf woman who sang for my parents and me some 4 years ago – bringing tears to my mother’s eyes. When I asked her if she was good – she replied quickly ‘Bahini (little sister), I can’t hear, I can’t see… how can I be good?’ but then again, her smile was ever present and she sang as long as she remembered the words. I must say she is impressive at 85, in Nepal!

We also met up with Clive and Andrea, INF long-termers. In the past, they have diagnosed me of parasitical ills, they have supported me when my hospital was hit by Maoist/army clashes, they smuggled Emily and I into a grand hotel for some TLC around the pool… It was great to reconnect and to find that Clayton just clicked with them and it was simply a great visit.

P.S. The 225 tanks that were supposed to cross the border did NOT come... and the situation is getting bleaker. 48 hour waits at the petrol pumps... It's time to start thinking about stocking up...

Kathmandu under siege

The roads are a bit less crowded these last days. The taxi drivers are firm with their high prices. Many people have run out of cooking gas and I can't imagine living in Nepal without being able to cook rice! There are talks of food shortages if this is maintained.

Supposedly, about 80% of public transport vehicles are parked, unable to move. Our last taxi driver waited 12 hours to fill his tank. One of my friends "name-drops" to get the prized liquid for her car - there is sometimes no other way but to make them grovel because of the big names you know.

Last night, according to a Nepali minister, 225 fuel tankers crossed the Indian border, escorted by the army forces, and expected to start supplying gas and fuel today. Some ethnic groups are protesting all across the Terai, creating massive indefinite strikes all across the southern border. Wednesday was the Maoist 13 anniversary of the beginning of the war. Red flags were everywhere and big gatherings occurred.

Our plan was to head to Ghorahi for the weekend... but with the roads shut and everything closed off... we couldn't even get there. Instead, we're heading to Pokhara, after finding a bus company that still has fuel.

We were reflecting on the coming planned elections on April 10th. It seems that if Nepalis can't move around the valley due to the fuel shortages, are stuck in the valley due to massive strikes all across the country, can't access necessary food items because of shortages, and worst of all, can't cook rice... the country may well fall apart... We wait with bated breath.

Disempowering Husbandry

It's really all about power.

I had already noticed that people addressed Clayton more than me in our daily dealings, but it didn't get to me in the same way... probably because I could easily hold my own with my Nepali... but this weekend as we attended Nepali Church, my status as the wife of the interesting white man was clear.

I have come to realize that in some contexts, being a single white woman has more clout than being a white wife. Even though I was powerless in many ways in Ghorahi (being YOUNG and a NURSE were not to my advantage), at church, I was the interesting foreigner... and I probably got accustomed to being interesting.

This weekend, I was only but the wife of... It was troubling to me that I wasn't addressed and that my work was of limited interest... Imagine the interesting white man even works for the Bible Society... now that's a claim to fame! Now, let's not think I'm becoming bitter - it was just a bit of a shock...

But then again, I think back and realize that as the white wife, I've been given my fair share of power. Imagine the widow of low caste who has only produced daughters... imagine the leper with disfiguring signs of his illness... It is reassuring to me that, at times, the traditional power relations are being flattened out or even reversed. For example, my church in Ghorahi welcomes such disenfranchised people. When the preacher stands up and starts his message and you see he's the only one wearing shoes to cover his deformed feet and his hands are but stumps from leprosy, you realize that some things do change.

"Home Sweet Home"- The mosaic

Here is our little home...



Center picture: our home - we live in the bottom floor of this lovely house... We share the door with our neighbors upstairs.


From Top left clockwise:
1- Photo mosaic of our friends whom we miss
2- The kitchen of a gin-tonic fan
3- The gate - always kept safe by our guard
4- cuddling in our living room
5- hanging 'his' laundry yet again
6- trying to study Nepali - although this is a fake, since it's Clayton that is studying much more than I
7- Clayton's office window and the garden that he happily looks upon
8-office - the place where all his hard work happens

Newsy Bits

Some of the main stories in the news a few days back -

• Mass graves being unearthed with the help of a Finnish forensic investigator on the outskirts of Kathmandu. This supposedly contains the remains of many alleged Maoists that the army captured during the war.
• The Maoists have revived a former parallel structure that governed in certain regions during the war, the Revolutionary People’s Council… hummm
  Someone in Britain has asserted that they think Nepal’s elections planned on April 10th will go ahead…
• There was a raid on kidney traffickers in Nepal - as per the article, many poor Nepalis get either scammed into giving away their kidney, or get smuggled and drugged and wake up without one prized organ.
• The case of the missing Nepalis in Alabama
• Many notices about teacher’s strikes, bombs here and there, and political strike
  

I must say that the next few months will surely be interesting!

Liturgical Wednesday

Ash Wednesday always has a special Nepali feel for me. The act of smearing powder by someone in authority on one’s forehead resembles so much the Hindu tradition of tikka. As I was slowly heading back to Canada following my stay in Nepal 3 years ago, I attended the Ash Wednesday service at Notre-Dame-de-Paris. I remember how very profound it was for me to come out into the bustling streets of Paris with ash on my forehead, after having spent a year refusing to receive such marks… since it would have signified an affiliation with Hindu beliefs for Christians in Nepal’s Mid-Western Region.

Today, we attended a Catholic service near our home where we received this symbol of repentance and mortality. Clayton followed the service as any good Catholic would. Since I am less liturgically inclined, I tried to get its gist through the rather high religious vocabulary. At least I recognized the Lord’s Prayer!

Lent will be a little different than the last few years… no cutting out caffeine or chocolate… but instead of sacrifice, trying to add more… more time, more remembrance, more of Him.

American Life, Japanese Wife

Or so Nepalis often describe the ideal. The extended version is:

"American salary, Chinese food, Nepali life, Japanese wife"

But they have it all wrong.

"British salary, Thai food, San Diego weather, Canadian life, French-Canadian wife"

There we go. Much better.

Living next to the Jew

When I was describing the location of our flat to one of my ex-students, he said, “Oh! You live next to the Jew!” “The Jew?” “Yes, the Jew... Right next to you.”

Puzzled silence. “You know, the Jew. Where the animals are.”

“Ah! Right,” I said, finally clueing in.

But I’m still taken aback each time someone says it.