Seven Weeks in Nepal

Dashain is like the Nepali version of Christmas. In Umbrella, we had a Dashain program for the kids on the 13th (there's photos of that in the other album) and then many of the kids went home to their villages to spend the holiday with their families. There are some kids who either don't have any family, don't know where their family is, or their family is too far away to come pick them up. These kids stay in Umbrella for Dashain. There are 5 boys in my house (out of 28, that are staying here). For the week of Dashain, we'll do various fun activities with them, to try and make up for the fact that they can't be with their family

On Saturday we walked up to a near-by monastery, Halchok.  There were a lot of stairs! But the view from the top was well worth it! And the kids had a good time. :) 

Lopping though the field

Even some of the old monks tried out the slack line one of the volunteers brought :) 

Photo shoot with some of my boys :)

Kanchanjunga boys at Halchok Monestary 

On Sunday, me and the boys rode the bus to Boudhanath, a HUGE stupa

Me'n the boys 

The stupa 

A few other photos from the past week

Such a character :) 

Typical Jewel pose, sitting on the stoop of Kanchanjunga, either writing or preparing for my English class

Making friends with the marigolds

I brought over a pack of balloons the other evening.  There was no power, so they couldn't watch TV.  They had a great time playing, 'stomp on the balloon!' :) 

Musings for Week Six

The price of entertainment and shoe repair:

The other day I bought breakfast, took the bus to Kirtipur, wandered around the town, bought lunch and took the bus home. All for $1.30. And the day before that I had my sandal fixed for 10 cents. I love this country! Breakfast was two samosas for 30 cents. The bus ride was 15 cents, lunch was a plate of mo-mos for 40 cents. The bus ride home was 30 cents (I took two buses instead of one). A full days entertainment and food for a dollar thirty. :)

As for my sandal, the leather strap broke. I took it to a shoe man and he sewed it back together, for 10 cents. :) I couldn't buy a new shoe for 10 cents!

Left-handedness:

I've noticed that a few of the boys write with their left hand, but they still eat with their right hand. I'm guessing that has something to do with the 'eat with your right, wipe with your left.' I've also noticed though, that when some of the boys use my camera, they look through the view-finder with their left eye, which must be rather awkward. I haven't asked them why they do it.
*I remembered what else I was going to write here* -I've noticed that when they play cards, the boys hold their cards with their left hand.  I figured the right-handers would hold with their right hands, but I guess not.  

Wallet, what wallet?

Most Nepalis don't carry a wallet, or if they do, the money isn't stored in any orderly manner. At the market, where Suban and I go every Monday and Friday, most of the stall managers keep their money in a cloth/plastic bag wrapped around their waist (for the woman) or in a bucket or a drawer of a small table. When Suban pays for the veggies, he pulls a wad of cash out of his bag and searches through it for the correct change. :P

Sponsorship Letters:

A vast majority of the kids in Umbrella have sponsors, whose contributions make up a large portion of Umbrellas income. Every other month or so, the kids write letters to their sponsors, letting them know what's new, how they're doing in school, etc. The big festival of Dashain is coming up, and most of the kids are going home to their villages for a few weeks. The volunteers were asked to get the kids to write their sponsors a letter before they left for Dashain. It's been a right nightmare. 29 boys, 38 letters to be written (some kids have more than one sponsor). The letters have to be written on white paper, with black ink, so they show up when they're scanned. Of course, the boys only have blue fountain pens and their copy-book paper is flimsy recycled stuff. So I have to supply the pens (of course I only find 4 or 5 in the volunteer house) and I have to nag the tutor to find some proper paper. Then there's the boys, 'Sister, I don't want to write a letter.' 'Sister, I don't know what to write.' 'Sister, read this.' 'Sister, you bring black pen. I don't have black pen.' 'Sister, Sister, SISTER!!!!' AAAAAAAAAWWWWWWW. And then there was the photos. Sponsorship letters come with three photos of each boy. Three DIFFERENT photos. Which I have to take. It's making my brain explode. That said, there have been some good bonding moments when I've been helping the boys write their letters.

On their families

The other day I got to talking to one of the older boys and learned two things. 1) His family was found only three years ago. 2) One of the youngest boys in the house is going home for Dashain for the first time this year. He hasn't seen his family since he arrived in Umbrella, 6 years ago.

Mac found notes from meetings held by Umbrella staff in the early days of the foundation. He printed them off for us volunteers, so we could peruse them at our leisure. There's some interesting stuff in there about the beginnings of Umbrella, how many kids were rescued each week, how many were re-united with their families, the purchase of more houses to house the arriving kids, etc. I found the names of two of my boys in there. Kumar arrived in Umbrella when he was 9 years old, after previously serving as a house servant for a wealthy Nepali. I learned that he's one of the kids mentioned in Conor Grennan's book 'Little Princes.' The other boy, Surya, arrived when he was just 5 years old, and he's the one who's going home for the first time ever this year. Crazy. These kids are amazing.

Dashain

Dashain is a HUGE festival here. It's like the equivalent of Christmas back home. I've been told that the city will be virtually empty in the coming weeks as people travel to their villages to spend the holiday with their families. Most of the Umbrella kids are also going home to their families. For many of them, it's the only time during the year that they get to see them.

I'm sure there was something else I was going to write about....but of course I don't remember what it was. :P Oh well. Until next week!

I remembered!!  I wear a face mask when I'm biking around the city, the dust is pretty bad.  When I bike I often smile at people, especially when they smile at me, and then I remember that I'm wearing a mask and they probably can't tell that I'm smiling. :P 

Week Six in Photos!

Kirtipur

This rooster totally looks like he's playing 'King of the Hill' :)

Down a small alley I found this room with a women minding two huge automatic looms.  They were loud and dusty!

Cleaning the candle holders

The main square in Kirtipur

A road under construction in Patan

Shoes and Chickens!

One of my favourite photos so far, old men watching the world go by

Brothers 

Brothers

Practising for the Dashain program

One of my favourite photos of these two

The younger boys performing at the Dashain program.  Two of them dressed as girls, complete with make-up.  They were adorable :) 

My boys performing.  They were AMAZING! So much talent!

The house captain in Kanchanjunga.  He's got quite an expressive face!

So much talent!

I was taking a photo of a small shrine and these two women came up and asked me, 'Sister, one photo please.'  I took the photo and showed it to them.  They walked away laughing :)

Photos from the past week

Kanchanjunga House, where I spend most mornings and evenings, home of 29 boys aged 12-18

The newest addition to the volunteer house, Viva. 

Watching the boys play football.  Most of them played barefoot, or in flip-flops/cros!

Samosas for my birthday! 

My birthday cake.  Dark Forest. :) 

TASTY TASTY!!!  

Finally, a break from the city: a lesson in travelling in Nepal

I don't even know where to begin this post....

It started with a wake up call at 6am Saturday morning. Mac (the volunteer coordinator for Umbrella), Amy and Maya (two of the other volunteers), Indu Didi (the didi who stays in the volunteer house and makes sure we don't get into too much trouble), and myself were off to visit Didi's village and family. There was some confusion at the 'bus station' (a little alley with a few buses, mini buses, a bunch of people milling around and some dogs) because we'd been informed that buses left every half-hour to Dhading (the largest town near to Didi's village, and where one of her brothers lives), but on arrival we were told that the next big bus didn't leave for another hour or more. However, there was a minibus going to Dhading. Mac was a little leery at first, minibuses have a notorious reputation for ending up on the side of a cliff. :P We decided to take our chances (it was a 4 hour drive and we wanted to get there as soon as possible, as Didi's village was another 2-3 hours beyond Dhading).   

One of the best sayings I've seen on the back of a bus

 It was a hot cramped ride. I spent the first hour so getting bruises on my leg anytime the driver changed gear. :P (Note, our driver didn't look any older than 17, and probably wasn't. :P) Then a girl was squished into the space between me and the driver and I was spared the formation of any more bruises. I took the time to practice reading and pronouncing Nepali numbers. Didi was seated next to me and as I read out numbers on the license plates of vehicles in front of us she'd tell me if I was right or correct me if I was wrong. I can now recognize most of the numbers between 1 and 9. :)

 

The front of our mini-bus 

 The drive was a lesson in 'close your eyes and pray you're still alive in 10 seconds.' The road is narrow, and in horrible condition, everyone drives like a maniac, the lorries are HUGE, the curves are sharp and the edge is a little too close for comfort. Despite all this, we made it in one piece. Hallelujah!

Dhading is a fairly large town, devoid of tourists. It was great! I didn't see a single sign advertising trekking, rafting, elephant rides in Chitwan, cheap air travel to Lukla, sales on trekking gear or anything else catering to tourists. We visited Didi's brother-in-law first, where we were treated to a glass of orange Fanta. I had to force myself to drink it out of politeness. I can't recall the last time I had a carbonated drink that wasn't Sprite or Ginger Ale. :P The Nepali are incredibly hospitable, and to refuse food or drink is rude. After a short visit we headed to Didi's brother's house. We had to cross a small suspension bridge to get there. :) Didis' brother's family live in a small one-room, two floor house with a packed dirt floor and no windows. It's a simple way of life out here. The view from their porch though was fantastic! It's all about the location. :) We were treated to more Nepali hospitality and fed dal baht, and it was even meat dal baht! (Buffalo meat, tasty, but a little tough). The people may not have much, but what they do have they freely share with guests. The food was delicious, and of course they gave us huge portions, even though we insisted we only wanted 'ali-ali' (little-little).   

A boy from a neighbouring house.  We had fun playing peek-a-boo

 After a short visit and a walk around the town we worked on procuring a ride up into the hills. (and by 'we' I mean Didi and Mac, because Didi speaks Nepali and Mac's the organizer :). In the end we had to wait around for almost 2 hours before the lorry left. Didi had found a huge delivery lorry going in the direction of her village and we were going to catch a ride with it. While we waited for it be be loaded with bags of chilies, propane tanks, boxes of chocolate and salt, bags of potatoes and who knows what else, I made friends with some local kids who were siting on the stoop two shops down. From the sounds of it, they were having a competition to see who could say 'Hello, tourist' loudest and attract me attention. Before long I was sitting next to them and they wanted to know all about my family, how many brothers and sisters, their names and ages. Their English was pretty decent and they were quite a giggly bunch.

 

Dhading

The other highlight of the afternoon was watching a goat get sacrificed!

I could tell something was going on by the small crowd of people gathering around a tied up goat and the fact that a guy was sharpening a foot long knife. After a few minutes of wrestling the goat into position...1, 2, 3, CHOP! I got a great photo of the butcher following through with his swing, one guy holding the cut head and another guy holding the body. The blood was drained into a bucket to save for later, they use it to bless vehicles and houses. Then the body was doused in hot water and the fur was scrapped off with metal cups. They fine tuned the de-furring with razor blades, making sure every piece of hair was removed. Finally, the body was rubbed down with some type of spice that turned the body yellow. It was a fascinating way to pass the time. :)

Goat sacrifice on the sidewalk!

Making friends with some local kids while we wait for the truck to Didi's village

 Finally, we loaded up into the lorry. Didi and the girls sat up front in the cap while Mac and I rode Nepali style, on the back. :) It was SO much fun! There were a few times we were learning so far over I thought something/one would fall off! As we climbed up, up, up, the views of the valley and city were spectacular.

 

A view of Dhading

Riding in the back of the lorry, Nepali style

 From where we were dropped off, it was a 1.5hr walk to Didi's village. We watched the moon (almost full) rise up over the hills. It was so quiet and peaceful, cool and serene. No lorrys or buses barrelling by us, stirring up the dust, no barking dogs chasing us, no potholes in the sidewalk to avoid. :)

That evening we were treated to more Nepali hospitality. When Mac mentioned that pop-corn was his favourite food, someone was sent to tell someone else to make some and bring it to us. We were fed tea, pomegranates, bananas and dal baht, and after the meal we had Roxy, the locally made alcohol. It tasted like watered down vodka.

We eventually begged exhaustion and were shown where we'd be sleeping. Brushing our teeth in the back-yard, spitting into a patch of dirt reserved for washing dishes, teeth and hands, using the Nepali style outhouse and sleeping on a bed that was slightly softer than a rock were definite highlights of the weekend. :P

What a day!  

Good morning!

 6am wake-up call. Tea and biscuits in the small kitchen, watched the buffalo get milked and then set off on a walk around the area. We saw the local water source/spring. The water was cool and refreshing. :) We were told that the foundations have been there for over a hundred years! We walked out to a ridge, from which you could see valley upon valley of green fields, paddies and trees. We were high enough up to be above the clouds!! Unfortunately, because of the clouds, we didn't see any 'real mountains,' the kind with snow on them. It was still a fantastic view. We then hiked to the top of a small kill to get a view of the whole village. :)

 

The village water supply

On our walk around

 On the way back to the house we stopped first at the local private and then the local public school. Although the classrooms of the private school were by far more run down and shabby, the teacher:student ratio was much, much higher. At the public school, all of the students came out to gape at these white foreigners walking by. :P I felt really bad for disrupting their classes.

After our 4.5 hour walk, on just tea and biscuits, it was a relief to get back to the house and eat dal baht!

The private school

All of the students at the public school, gaping at the tourists

Didi's kitchen

The 'backyard' 

Getting out of Didi's village was a little more difficult than getting to the village. There's no reliable way to predict if there will be a truck on the road heading back to Dhading, so it's easier to just take the foot path and walk out. It was a lovely walk down the valley floor, across the stream and up the other side. I noticed as we walked that Didi took ~2 steps for every one of mine. :) She's rather tiny. We stopped to rest on a small rise, under a leafy tree, with a lush breeze blowing though. I could've sat there for ages, reading a book and watching birds glide on the air currents, but we had a bus to catch if we wanted to make it back to Kathmandu that day, so on we pushed.

Finding a bus was a trial. IS there a bus leaving? WHEN does it leave? Is it a big bus? Or a mini-bus? No, we don't want a private taxi. It took the advice/input of 6 or 7 Nepali, with Didi translating, to get it all sorted out.

There are no assigned seats on Nepali buses, and the maximum capacity is 'shove as many people in as possible.' The best part of the trip was when a rather large Nepali woman all but sat in Mac's lap. There was only a small space on the seat next to him, but in Nepali terms, it was enough for her! :)  

If riding the bus during the day was heart-stopping, riding it at night was a full on heart attack! We made it back in one piece though, back to the noise, pollution, traffic and chaos of the city. I can't wait for the next time!!  

My Brothers: some photos

These are the faces of some of the amazing, talented, creative, caring, spunky, handsome boys that I hang out with every day here in Nepal

This lad is supper chatty, his English is excellent and he's one of the first lads I got to know  here. When I needed to take new photos of the boys for their sponsorship letters, he took the list from my hands and said 'come sister, I will help.' He sought out each boy on the list and told them what I needed and then crossed their name off after the photo was taken. :) 

At least half of the photos taken of the boys or around the house have been taken by this lad.  Any time I come over with my camera he says 'Camera sister, please' and off he goes to photograph the lads, the soccer posters on the walls, and anything else that takes his fancy. 

One of the lads showing off the insect he caught in the garden

This lad is an amazing break-dancer! He's also an excellent Nepali teacher and helped me learn my numbers :) 

This lad had just received a post-card from his sponsor in Canada,  he was well excited to read it and have something that was just for him. 

Feeling in a charitable mood now that you've seen the faces of some of the children the Umbrella Foundation looks after?  Help support their cause here: http://www.mycharity.ie/event/jewelinnepal
(Note: vegetable prices are on on the rise.  Many of Nepals fruit and veg comes from India and there's an activist group trying to prohibit entry to any Indian made vehicle, including the lorrys full of produce.  I go to the market every Monday and Friday with one of the Umbrella staff and every week he worries about the cost of the veg he buys.  The kids must be fed though, so we do our best to find the best quality, freshest and inexpensive tomatoes, pumpkins, green beans, soya beans, potatoes, onions, squash, etc.) 

Festivals, English classes, Games and a Butchered Chicken

Pashupati

Wednesday was the official holiday for Teej. Indu Didi and I went to visit Pashupatinath Temple, an UNESCO Heritage site and the largest Hindu temple in Nepal. As Teej is a Hindu festival, the temple was swarming with women in red, green and gold saris. Most of them were either dancing or waiting in lines. There were lines everywhere, or else it was just one huge line, a few kilometers long. I never did figure it out. There was a sunken courtyard in one area, packed with women dancing and singing. We finally maneuvered our way into the temple grounds (we couldn’t go into the temple itself because we’re not Hindu) and were met with the stench of burning bodies. On the banks of the Bagmati River are numerous platforms where bodies are cremated. We spent most of the afternoon people watching and marveling at the amount of women and their varied saris. I have a few videos that my friend took that shows what I saw much better than I could ever explain it, but there's I haven't been able to find a place with fast enough internet to upload them. :(

Teaching Monks

I've recently been corralled into teaching English at a local Buddhist monastery/meditation centre. You know how they say to 'do something that scares you everyday,' well this is my thing. I'm so out of my league and so thankful that I have my Cambodia experience to take from. Without that I'd be totally lost. After my first talk with the head monk I discovered that what they really want is a full time volunteer English teacher. I told them I could do two days a week, three hours each day, but that was it. They've since asked me a few times if I couldn't do more days a week or if I knew of anyone else who would be willing to teach. :P

I had my first class the other day. I brought along one of the other volunteers from Umbrella, she's a teacher in real life and helped me break the ice and get things going in the class. Before it started though we had a chat with the head monk and were served a small plate of fruit. :) So far, there are 4 monks and 1 girl in the class, though the head monk said more may show up next class, as word spreads that there's a new English teacher. Great. One of the monks is a (the?) reincarnated lama. At first I thought he was a girl because his hair is really long and he's young enough that his facial features are still at that indiscriminate stage. Oops. That first day we just did a few easy exercises with giving directions and going over shapes. The monks are really shy and really quite. Getting them to stand up at the front is like pulling teeth. :P I've decided I'm pretty much going to use the lesson plans I had in Cambodia (at least as much as I can remember), and hopefully that will give me enough content to get started. It's definitely going to be a leaning experience and I'm exploring outside my comfort zone, but hey, that's what traveling is for right?

Rain in Kathmandu

When it rains here the roads become torrential rivers of water (and floating trash) and mud puddles. When walking down the street you have to dodge the puddles, downspouts from the roof overhead, and the normal selection of bikes, cars, motos, bemos, kids, cows, etc. while trying not to get splashed when said vehicles drive by. It’s usually a lost cause. :P

Jenga Blocks

I found two Jenga block sets in the the Volunteer House and took them over to the boys one Saturday afternoon. They started out just playing the game, but that soon got old and they moved on to building with the blocks. It's been interesting watching the progression of their constructions, as their imaginations discover new ways of building. At first their were simple towers and dominoes in a straight line, but now the towers are intricate creations and the dominoes have evolved into multi-demenional creations. If I show up at the house without the bag of blocks, they're quick to ask me why I haven't brought them. I wish I could find more, so they could make a domino track around their bed-room, across the window sills, down the stairs and out the door. What Kathmandu needs is a games store.

Chicken Dinner

On my over to the house yesterday I ran into one of my boys. I asked him what he was up to and he pointed to a lady near-by, chopping up a chicken with a knife that was at least a foot long. I clued in that it was Saturday, the one day a week we get meat, and that he was waiting to collect this weeks supply of chicken. There were 4 chickens in total, 6.5kg, to feed ~35 people. The chicken was butchered on a wooden block, chop, chop, chop went the knife and every thing (meat, bones, skin, gristle, cartilage, and even a few organs) went into a plastic bag, with only a few morsels being tossed to the waiting pup below. Later that evening, while eating said chicken and picking the bone fragments out of my mouth, I tried not to think too hard about how often the chopping block doesn't get cleaned.

You know a city is dusty when you rub your hands on your face and come away with little shaving-like dirt bits. :P