Today is the last day of the Dasain Festival.  It is a nine day festival that honors the goddess Durga.  I always know the festival has started because the road out to the Tibetan camp is filled with goats.  The Nepalis call them ‘changra’…a combination of Changtang, the high Tibetan plateau, and bakra…the Nepali word for goat.  They actually come from inside Nepal near the Tibetan border and spend days being walked down to the valleys below.  Trying to pass through the herds that have taken over the roads requires patience.  On the first day of the festival, corn seeds are planted in cow dung.  The sprouts (jamara) are harvested on the ninth day…today… and are part of the tikka ceremony that will happen this morning to celebrate the end of the festival.  Durga loves blood…so on phulpati day, which was Thursday, many animal sacrifices were made.  The Tibetan Buddhists spend that day in their community halls praying for the souls of all of the animals that are sacrificed.

            Last Sunday, when I made my way to the camp, I found Pau Rhichoe very sick with a fever, chills and achy muscles.  His son Singe said he had been that way for four days.  There has been a virus that has been sweeping through Nepal for several months now…and seems to last about seven days when it strikes.  If Pau Rhichoe wasn’t feeling better in a day or two, Singe was going to take him to a clinic.  We only stayed for a short time so as to not tire him.  We told him all about what has been happening in Chile with the miners…and that they were soon to be rescued.  It seemed to take his mind off of his illness for the hour or two that we were there.  When I returned to the camp on Monday, a new Amchi (Tibetan medical doctor) had arrived and all of the old ones had submitted their names for a check-up.  Singe put both his father and his mother’s name on the list and they were waiting their turn.  I made my way to Pau Nyima’s home, only to find him in the middle of a treatment for three sick Tibetans.  There also a foreign woman who was waiting for treatment, and he had been called to do another treatment that afternoon.  With Pau Rhichoe being sick, Nyima is being kept very busy.  His two daughters, Tenzin and Dolkar, had arrived from their boarding school in Kathmandu.  They have 17 days off for the Dasain school break and so we had a chance to get caught up on all of their comings and goings.  A year ago, just as I was due to return home, Tenzin had been selected to travel to Dharamsala India to where the Tibetan government in exile is located for a conference for students…so she shared with me all of her adventures from that trip.

            On Tuesday, Lobsang had a bit of success calling tourists into her shop.  Her total take while I was there only came to about $5.00…but this will feed her and her husband for the day, so she was pleased.  Although she is greatly teased about it, she takes English classes each day from volunteers who come from Holland every year.  She brings her homework to the shop and practices reading English with me. 

            Wednesday found me back at the Tibetan camp to spend the morning with Pau Wangchuk’s son Trinley.  He makes the most delicious ginger milk tea.  I must say, I think I drink the entire thermos by myself…as Migmar only sips the equivalent of a cup.  He also makes the most delicious tomato and onion omelet that he serves on Tibetan flat bread.  I need to find out what oil he cooks it in….sunflower, soybean, mustard.  Whichever he uses, it has such an amazing taste that no one else who serves similar food to comes close to matching.

            As I mentioned in the beginning, Thursday was phulpati day…and the temples were filled with people offering chickens and goats as sacrifices to Durga.  Bel’s family doesn’t do this, but the extended family as a whole goes in together to purchase a goat to slaughter so they have meat on tikka day.  Anil gets very excited about this….and has been asking for weeks then the ‘maaaa’ (sound goat makes) will come.  He makes a slashing movement with his hand to indicate cutting its head off.  Thursday afternoon, Bikesh arrived from the village.  He is Bel’s nephew and has been called to be a jhankri (shaman).  He had come down to do the annual Guru Puja with Bel and I.  This is an elaborate ritual to honor the spirits that each shaman works with.  Somendra usually participates, but a relative had died in his village, so he is considered polluted and was not allowed to join us.  His family will also not be allowed to have tikka put on their foreheads this year.  Bikesh is now about 20 years old.  He is quite a remarkable young man.  He had to leave the village to earn money several years ago because his father had fallen out of a tree and could no longer herd goats.  Bikesh worked for many years as an assistant on a petrol tanker truck in India.  He now drives a school bus in Bhairawa…a city on the Nepal/India border.  When I first met him many years ago, he said my English was wrong.  It made me laugh.  The rhythm of our language flows differently than the rhythm of the Nepali language, so emphasis on syllables and words can make speaking each other’s language a bit strange.  Bel, Bikesh and I spent the evening making an elaborate assan (altar) and called in the spirits.  The next morning, Bel kept Bikesh very busy completing the altar.  I asked what I could do to help, but Bel said that Bikesh needed to learn all of this because once Bel is gone; he will be the one to continue the tradition.  They made special breads, toasted barley grains, and made patterns on the mud floor under the assan using rice flower.  They put offerings of oranges, apples and bananas…milk and coconut water…colored powders and incense…and a chicken was kept outside to be sacrificed.  Bel wrapped a copper water container with red cloth, put in some rice, and then lowered an oil lamp inside.  He said that we needed to keep it lit all day for his daughter Durga, who is due to give birth in about a month.  We donned our special jhankri lugaa (shaman’s clothes) and spent the morning drumming, singing and dancing.  It usually draws a crowd of on-lookers who hear the drums and come to witness the procedure.  At the end, tikka is put on everyone’s forehead, and the fruits that had been offered to the spirits (prasad) are passed around for all to eat.  We had all been fasting since Thursday morning, so we deeply appreciated the prasad…and the meal that was served afterwards. 

            I spent the afternoon watching the men butcher a goat.  Four families went in together and Prem purchased a changra.  It was tied to the gate at Bel’s home to Anil’s great delight.  He and I had gone to Durga’s shop for a cold drink…and when we returned the ‘maaaa’ was gone.  Anil and I tracked it to Prem’s home and we sat as the men worked on the goat.  They cut off the head, and then use a water and ash mixture to remove all of the hair.  A small blow torch is brought in at the end to get the hair off of the hooves and head.  Then it is systematically cut down into smaller pieces with the final piles of meat being weighed.  To celebrate, the innards are cooked for the men to eat.  I had left at that point…but Anil stayed for the ‘goodies’?!?   

            Yesterday was a day of rest.  A popular activity during these festivals is to play cards…so there are always small games going on from the smallest child to the old ones.  They gamble one rupee per hand and there is much laughter.  Bikesh headed back to the village so he would be there for tikka day.  I promised I was going to come for a visit (I want to shoot footage of sheep (or rather goat) herding for my documentary).  I spent the afternoon with Sangeeta making the shell roti.  Or rather, she made wonderful shell roti and I made a mess.  We sit by a wok shaped pan of boiling oil and drop batter into it in the shape of a circle.  Then when it is brown on one side, we flip it over until done and remove it.  Sangeeta makes very beautiful circles of dough…mine looks more like a funnel cake gone bad.  Ke garne (what to do)! 

So today is Dasain tikka day.  We will start at Bel’s home.  We will each take a turn sitting in a chair, facing the direction determined most auspicious by the country’s astrologer.  Bel and Bishnu will toss a bit of the rice (that has been soaked in yogurt to make the tikka) at our feet, then a bit over our heads…then place some on our foreheads…all the while whispering prayers of good health and safe passage through life.  They will put flowers in the women’s hair and tuck a blossom behind the ears of the men.  They will wrap the jamara (sprouts) that by now are three inches long with money and hand it to us.  Then we are served shell roti and raksi (fermented barley from Bishnu’s backyard still).  After Bel’s home, we will go to Bishnu’s mother’s home and repeat the process…then to her brother’s home, then across the street to old auntie’s home, then down the lane to another old uncle’s home…then head out to Guru’s home…and return back to Bel’s home with my forehead covered with tikka.  Wish me luck as I navigate all of the food and drink offerings.

Babita’s marriage ceremony is this Friday.  Can you imagine?  They just picked the date and all must be arranged in one week!

Love,

Sarah

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Namaste,

            The monsoon rains are coming to an end…which means it is hot, humid and dusty.  Despite the beauty of the Annapurna range of the Himalayan Mountains looming in the distance, Nepal is a horribly filthy place.  There is trash everywhere and everything is coated with a layer of dust.  The air smells of kerosene, diesel and wood fires.  Nepalis take great delight in spitting, so you have to watch where you step and be ready to jump out of the way of someone starts hacking up some tar.  You also have to be careful where you step due to the deposits left by buffalos, goats, dogs, cows, horses and chickens. 

            Last Sunday, I made my way to the camp again to spend the morning with Pau Rhichoe.  He had been in Kathmandu on pilgrimage with his sister.  This is the year of the tiger in the Tibetan calendar, and the most auspicious place to visit is Nama Buddha…right outside of the Kathmandu valley.  He warmly greeted me with tight hugs and kisses on my cheeks.  We had so much catching up to do that the time seemed to fly by.  Sunday was also the day that Tibetans around the world voted in primary elections for a new Prime Minister and members of Parliament…so we made our way to the community hall so that he could vote.  Sadly, the Chinese government put pressure on the Nepali government to confiscate the ballot boxes and disrupt the elections…and Nepali police did that in three locations in the Kathmandu Valley  (http://www.savetibet.org/media-center/ict-news-reports/nepalese-police-seize-ballot-boxes-tibetan-exile-election).  The Tibetans in the camp are now worried that their ballots will also be confiscated as they make their way to India to be counted.  It seems as though China is being more and more strident…and putting more and more pressure on Nepal to take a more stringent stance on its treatment of the refugees.  The irony is that the US has offered to emigrate all of the Tibetans in Nepal to our country…but China has also told Nepal they are not allowed to let them leave. 

            As Pau Rhichoe, Migmar and I were making our way back to his home, we passed the part of the camp where tables are set up to sell souvenirs to tourists.  It is on the path that leads to the monastery.  As we were walking down the line, Nyima’s brother Tsedup came out from behind one of the tables to say hello.  Each year, anyone who is interested in having a spot ‘throws tender’, and Tsedup submitted his name.  He was granted a spot in the middle, and had all of his goodies displayed.  What a difference one year makes.  Last year, he had just had his leg amputated, was immobile, and feeling sick.  This year, his health has been restored and he navigates the camp on his artificial leg without even a limp.  I’ll have to return to his table and ‘do a little business’.  Before leaving Pau Rhichoe’s home, I asked if his son Singe would be interested in helping me purchase new vinyl flooring for two of my elders.  I always try to find ways to give the Pau’s sons work so they can earn a bit of spending money.  He agreed to do this project so on our way out of the camp, we stopped at Tsamchoe and Dechen’s home and told them he would be coming by to measure the two rooms. 

On Monday, Singe made his way to the bazaar and located the shop with the best quality vinyl floorings, picked out a color and did some bargaining on the price.  He then made his way back to camp.  I was at the camp visiting Pau Nyima, so we made a plan to meet Singe at the open space at the front of the camp and travel together back to the shop so I could see his choice and pay for it.  He had chosen a beautiful pattern with browns and golds.  After completing the transaction, he headed back to the camp with the vinyl and Migmar and I returned Lakeside.  Tsamchoe and Dechen requested that the flooring be put in on Wednesday.  They had consulted the Tibetan astrological calendar and saw that Tuesday was not an auspicious day for this kind of work…which worked great for me because Wednesday was the day I was to return to the camp to deliver the food and shelter stipends to the olds ones.  When Migmar and I arrived on Wednesday morning, all of Tsamchoe and Dechen’s belongings were outside the house and Singe and two of his friends were putting down the vinyl.  I took a couple of photos and said we’d be back to see the finished product.  When we returned after delivering the other stipends, it was all done and the furniture was back in place.  It was beautiful!  The color Singe picked matched the color on their walls.  The two old ladies had made special bread and were feeding the guys.  Singe noticed that their water tap was leaking outside…and that the drain was plugged, so he offered to fix this also and his friend went and brought back a metal pipe and they unplugged the drain.  I paid Singe and thanked him from the bottom of my heart.  His next project is to arrange for a shower room to be created for his father, with a solar panel on top for hot water.  Last year a sit down toilet, this year a new, hot shower.                

This week we also delivered two new stoves…one to Jamyang and her brothers; and one to Tsedo and her two husbands.  We had dropped them off earlier in the week, and when we arrived on Wednesday with the stipends the stoves were all set up and functioning.  They kept expressing deep gratitude for such a basic need.  They served Tibetan butter tea, which I’ve come to really love.  It’s thick and salty and made out of tea, milk, butter and salt that they churn in a tall bamboo container.  You take a sip of the tea, and they quickly refill your cup.  To not allow them to refill your cup at least two times goes against their customs.  And despite my request that they not bother to make food for me, there is always bread, pancakes and hard boiled eggs.  I left with a very full bladder.

I had a quest this week to find a friend of my Fathers who was in the area on a Habitat for Humanity project.  I had met Ralph years ago here in Nepal, when he had come to the country to volunteer in a hospital in Kathmandu.  He is a retired physician.  At that time, he had heard from my Father that I was in Pokhara and had come to find me and see if I was alright.  We have kept in touch over the years and he emailed during the summer that he, his daughter and her husband would be in Pokhara October 1-10.  The talk of all of the area is of this project.  Five hundred foreigners from many countries have come to build 40 bamboo houses in the Leknath area.  Friday morning, Laxman picked up Bel and I at 7:15 AM and we headed to that area.  It turns out, this is Laxman’s village.  He seemed to know everyone we passed on the steep winding road.  We asked everyone we passed if they knew where Ralph was…and wandered up and down the road to where the different houses were…but had no luck.  Laxman had me write down Ralph’s name and he was going to work his taxi driver network.  Sadly, I never made contact…so Ralph…if you are reading this…I tried to find you.

Babita has arrived with Baby Izane to stay with us now that her chicken pox are gone.  And her husband Dhan Bahadur has arrived from his army training in Kathamndu.  This means the wedding ceremony is on!                         

Love,              

Sarah

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Good Morning (at least on this side of the world)!

            I am settling into my life over here…slowly staying awake a little bit longer each evening and sleeping a little bit longer each morning.  The weather continues to be hot and muggy…with huge deluges of rain.  When the storms come, we batten down the hatches and place containers everywhere to catch as much run off as possible from the roof.  Everywhere I walk I hear ‘Sarah Didi ayo’ (didi is a kinship term for older sister or term of respect…Sarah has come) or ‘Sarah Phupu ayo’ (Aunty Sarah has come’)…followed by ‘khaili aunu bayo’ (when did you come).  They put their hands together in prayer form and shout ‘Namaste’.  I think I’ve been able to meet just about everyone who is a part of my sphere while here.

            Last Saturday, Laxman, my driver, came to give me a ride Lakeside so that I could say hello to Migmar.  He has been my driver for at least seven years now.  He is considered low caste.  For years he has worked as a taxi driver for other ‘taxi bosses’.  He is one of the most loyal of all the people I spend time with here, is always on time (which in Nepal is a miracle) and, if a difficulty arose in the past, he would make sure another driver was available to help me.  He is now his own taxi boss.  When he picked me up on Saturday, he asked if I was angry with him and he kept wiping tears from his eyes.  I guess, when I told him I didn’t need him to come to Kathmandu to pick me up, he thought I was angry with him.  So I had to reassure him that that was not the case…that I was worried that with all of the rains, floods and landslides, that it would be better for the Tibet Guest House jeep to take me and not subject the new car to those perils…and that if, the road had been closed, I would either be stuck in Kathmandu or he would be stuck away from home.  The challenge of these communications…particularly through emails, is that his sons are limited in their English, so all messages are kept short with basic words….and my reasoning did not translate in such a way that was understood.  Yesterday I made my way to his home to see his wife and children.  They always greet me by standing in a line on their front porch, holding flowers in their hands.  As I approach, they say ‘Namaste’ and hand me the flowers.  We sit most of the time in silence as they are not very fluent in English.  I sip tea and eat hard boiled eggs and they all sit and watch me.   

            Sunday I made my way with Migmar to the Tibetan refugee camp to say hello and deliver my gifts to each family.  We started at Trinley’s home (Wangchuk’s son).  His boy is now two years old.  He is such a solemn boy who stares so intently at you as you speak.  I see his grandfather in him.  We chatted and Trinley made me a delicious omelet that he served on Tibetan flat bread (looks similar to a tortilla, but is much thicker).  A year ago, I had left a small HD video camera with him with several tapes so that he could film his son throughout the year.  He showed me the one tape he had filled.  My thinking is that if this boy has the fate to be a shaman like his grandfather, I will have years of footage of the boy as he grows for a new documentary.  From there we made our way to Norzin’s home.  She is Migmar’s mother-in-law.  She now is taking care of Karma’s boy Kunga, who is one year old.  Karma is Migmar’s sister-in-law and takes a bag filled with souvenirs to try and sell to tourists Lakeside.  Kunga is now walking…and was being very shy around me.  He started to approach with smiles just as I was leaving.  We drank Tibetan tea there.  Our next stop was Pau Rhichoe’s home.  He is in Kathmandu on a pilgrimage with his sister…and his wife is having medical problems and had been taken by her daughter to the hospital…so it was just Rhichoe’s son Singe who greeted us.  He had called and given his father the message that I had arrived, and expects him home soon.  He also served us Tibetan tea.  The last stop of the day was at Pau Nyima’s home.  It was with great delight that I was greeted by Nyima’s brother Tsedup, walking confidently towards us.  A year ago he was very sick and had to have his leg amputated.  I had located a source of high quality artificial limbs and tried to set in motion the purchasing, fitting and therapy for him before I left last December.  I left enough money to cover everything…so to see him walking made me grin.  I sat with Nyima, his wife Tashi and his brother and got caught up on all the family news.  Sadly, Nyima’s mother passed away last spring.  She was in her 90s but was in  pretty good health when I left last year.  I miss seeing her.  At this house, I was fed Tibetan tea and thuckpa (Tibetan noodle soup).  You see this pattern here?  Everywhere I go they insist on offering food and tea.  Sometimes my challenge is in navigating it all gracefully without causing offense….partly because I just can’t consume that much…and partly because they don’t always make food in such a way as it’s safe to eat.  Despite the fact that we tell them to please not make anything, I am always greeted with food.

            Monday I headed back to the camp, this time to meet with each of the households of Tibetan elders who Indigenous Lenses supports.  We started with Tsamcho and Dechen…two old women who shared the same husband (in Tibetan culture, the sharing of husbands is very common as it keeps property within a family…so it’s not unusual to come across two or three men sharing one wife).  They prepared bread and tea and we sat and chatted.  They let me know that they pray constantly on my behalf in thanks of the monthly stipend.  They always apologize that this is all they can do for me, but I always tell them that that is a great gift that is greatly appreciated.  We did a needs assessment and decided that we will replace the vinyl flooring in their old two room house.  The old one is so rotten that it’s easy to trip on the parts that are sticking up.  They also had good news to report.  The family they rent from has been charging them such an outrageous rent, that it’s talked about in the camp.  They have now all immigrated to Canada and the last one to leave informed them that they will no longer have to pay rent.  This means they will be able to use the monthly stipend for food and medicine.  The next stop was at the home of Pasang and Khando…and married couple.  Their place is so hot it’s almost intolerable.  Here they offered pancakes and tea.  They made the request that a new ceiling be put in place that will eliminate the heat.  It’s a matter of installing plywood on the rafters to create a space under the tin roof…thus making the room below cooler.  We did this for Pau Rhichoe two years ago with great success.  So I’ll focus on raising money for that for next year.  We then headed to Jamyang, Tashi and Dawa’s home.  This is a sister and two brother household.  It’s like a party in their place.  Everyone talking at once, telling great stories.  I don’t think they hear each other because they are all hard of hearing…so they all carry on independent conversations.  I find myself sitting there and grinning.  They need a new two burner propane stove…the old one is difficult to start and has become dangerous.  They served bread, hardboiled eggs and tea.  Our last stop was a household with new elders that I wanted to take into our food and shelter program.  It is a woman and her two husbands.  They live in a very small room with a dirt floor.  As we were sitting there and I was explaining the program, I looked at Migmar and saw that she was crying.  In a third world country known for its poverty, she was deeply disturbed by their living conditions.  I asked about the tears and she said that in anticipation of my arrival, they had tried to clean the room…and this touched her deeply.  This made me start to tear up.  They also need a stove because they cook on a kerosene burner that has blackened the walls of the home.  We left the camp with another full stomach and made our way to the local bazaar to purchase the two stoves.  There is a shop I have dealt with in the past who has good quality stoves, good prices and lets me do good bargaining.  We were able to purchase two propane stoves that we will deliver this week.

            I spent the day Tuesday sitting with Lobsang in her souvenir shop in the Tashiling Tibetan camp.  We sit and watch tourist buses come and go, but no one ever comes into her small shack to even ‘take a look’.  She’ll walk towards the buses when they arrive and call to them to come over….but it’s rare that anyone does.

            Wednesday I was back at the camp to spend the morning with Pau Nyima.  When I arrived there were two foreign men who had come for a treatment…so I got to watch Nyima do his ‘lha’.  It’s an elaborate ritual in which he dons a special costume and headdress, plays his hand drum and bell and calls in his gods and goddesses.  They take possession of his body and then suck the illness out of the patient.  It’s always an amazing process to watch.  The two young men are volunteering at a near-by monastery, teaching English to the monks.  They had heard about Nyima, so came for help with their medical problems. 

            We got a call Wednesday evening that Babita’s six month old daughter Izane has the chicken pox and needed to go to a clinic.  So early Thursday morning, Bishnu and I went by taxi to pick her and the baby up and go to see the doctor.  Here, private clinics are called nursing homes…and we made our way to the Padme nursing home.  Much to my delight, we purchased the token to see the doctor…and were ushered right in.  Usually, these things take hours.  He did a quick check, confirmed it was chicken pox and prescribed medicine.  We were in and out in 15 minutes…a new record!  Total cost:  $10.  Babita and baby Izane were going to come to the house…but now feel they should stay where they live so they don’t spread the disease any further.

            Friday is always Bel’s day off (chuti)…and we headed to his Guru’s home.  Bel is a Magar shaman and Guru has mentored him since he was first called to be a shaman as a young boy.    Guru was just finishing up with a patient, and we all sat outside and ate delicious shell roti (circular bread fried in oil that looks like a doughnut on steroids).  They had also hard boiled duck eggs for me to eat along with the shell roti.  I’m always leery of eating outside of Bel’s home…or the homes of people I have spent a lot of time with training in how to prepare food that won’t make me sick.  But I figured the boiling oil would kill anything iffy…and hard boiled eggs usually are a safe bet.  I seemed to have survived unscathed.

So the rhythm of my life is being set in motion…Sundays, Mondays and Wednesdays I’ll travel out to the camp.  Tuesdays will find me hanging out with Lobsang, calling out to tourists to ‘come and have a look’.  Fridays I’ll be going on adventures with Bel as he navigates his world.  Great sigh of contentment! 

Love,

Sarah

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Namaste,

I have traveled safely to the other side of the world and am settling in to my room on top of Bel’s home. It’s a week since I left and a world away. The traveling part went smoothly with all flights on time. It’s the sitting on a plane for a grand total of 24 hours that gets me. I’m in the process of shifting my internal time clock twelve hours ahead. I crash early in the evening and then am up in the middle of the night. They say for one hour of time change, it takes a day…so I guess twelve days from now I’ll be set.

It is always a wonderful feeling when my bags come up the conveyor belt at the airport in Kathmandu…and to then walk outside the terminal and see the ‘boys’ from the Tibet Guest house smiling and waving madly at me. I am always so well taken care of at this way station in the Kathmandu valley; it’s another one of those home away from homes I cherish. We’re on the tail end of monsoon season here, so the city was cloudy and cool. Which also meant no mountain views of the mighty Himalayas. The city is so full of intense sights and smells, it triggers an instant recognition of where I am…incense, spices, diesel, smoke, sewage, unwashed bodies…it always gives me a sense of place. I love walking the narrow twisted streets filled with shops and vendors…listening to voices calling out, bells ringing on the small shrines tucked into the most incongruous places, having someone walk up behind me and whisper ‘smoke, hashish, boy?. I sat in the Thanka Brother’s shop surrounded by thankas (beautifully painted images of Buddhist gods and goddesses on canvas) and sipped a cappuccino my first afternoon, catching up on all the news since I last saw them last fall.

On Thursday, Pramod came by the guest house with his motorcycle and took me to his home for lunch. I first met Pramod and his father Ram on my first visit to Kathmandu. They were assisting our group leader and helped us navigate their world. Riding on the back of a motorcycle in busy Kathmandu is always an adventure. I admonished him to please not kill Didi (me). The streets are narrow and crowded with cars, motorcycles, bicycles, buses, trucks, people, dogs and cows. There are no lanes, no traffic lights and no sense of space. The custom is to constantly honk your horn so everyone knows where everyone else is. Motorcycles, in particular, love to cut in and out of traffic, ride on the outside lane or inside gutter or sneak their way between two buses to get to a better place. I just close my eyes and hang on. I was met at his home by his father Ram, his mother, his wife and his sister. And was treated to a delicious Nepali meal. For the record, I do not like Nepali food. I find the spices too hot and struggle to eat when it’s offered. But years ago, Pramod took me to his home village and his mother prepared the most savory and delicious traditional Nepali meal of rice, lentils and vegetable curries I had ever tasted, so I knew I was in for a treat. Luckily, their family also does not like to make the food spicy hot but prefer to savor the natural flavors of each ingredient. His mother made chapatti (a flat bread similar to a tortilla). I watched her as she would roll out the dough, and then spread the top with ghee (clarified butter). She then folded the dough in half, then in half again and re-rolled it out. From there it goes into the hot pan to be browned on both sides. When I ripped off a piece to scoop up some of the mustard greens or chicken curry or potato and beans side dishes, the bread would fall apart in layers it was so flakey. I was in heaven. We sat and visited until his young daughter came home from preschool, so I could meet her…then it was back on the motorcycle for the return trip to the guest house.

I made my way by jeep on Friday to Pokhara. We left the guest house at 5 AM and arrived at Bel’s home around 10:30. It is only 200 kilometers from beginning to end, but the roads are narrow, in poor condition, so it takes that long to wind our way through these foothills of the Himalayas. If I had gone by bus, it would have been an 8 hour ride. I was greeted by a stunning view of the mountains as I neared Pokhara, which I took to be a blessing. I was also greeted by Bel’s son Anil, who came running out of the house to give me a big ol’ hug. The family says he’s been asking where I was every day since I left last December. He’d been sick recently and had lost a lot of weight. Something that I’m finding in many of the folks I’m seeing. A virus swept through recently knocking everyone to their knees. I haven’t met a single person who wasn’t affected. One by one, the entire extended family made their way to the house to say hello. While I was gone this past year, I had Bel arranged a re-model on my ‘bathroom’. I am now pleased to report I have a Western style toilet that I can sit down on. No more squatting over a hole in the floor. We also put in an automatic water heating system and a shower head…so I’ll be able to take a hot shower each morning. I just flip a switch and in 30 minutes the water is hot. Yahoo!

Friday evening, relatives of Bel’s second oldest daughter Babita’s husband came by to negotiate a formal marriage ceremony for this already married couple. This is part of their tradition. The first ceremony is conducted by a Pujari, who blesses the union. This happened two years ago. This second ceremony is for family to come and put blessings on the couple. I sat in another room with the women as the men negotiated what needed to happen. I teased Bel that he should be asking for many cows, sheep and horses for such a fine daughter. If all goes well, the ceremony will take place in one month. Babita’s husband is in the Nepali army and is in training in Kathmandu. This ceremony will all depend on his getting leave and they need to consult an astronomer to find the most auspicious date. Babita had a baby who is now 6 months old. She’s beautiful. And Durga, Bel’s oldest daughter is about 7 month pregnant…so I think there will be a new baby while I am here. So many changes since when I first started coming here 13 years ago.

Today I’m heading to the Tibetan camp for the first time to see Pau Rhichoe, Pau Nyima and Wangchuk’s son Trinley. I can’t wait!

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I am beginning another adventure to the other side of the world. If you are new to these emails…welcome. If you are an old hand…welcome back. If you are on this list by mistake, please let me know and I will remove your email address. I always love to hear what is happening on this side of the world…so please reply whenever you are moved to do so…but forgive me for not replying back individually. Internet access is always iffy, so don’t be offended at my lack of response. I had a great suggestion from Mary to create a sort of a key that would help track all of the different people who I interact with regularly while I’m in Nepal. So here it is:

My main reason for returning to Nepal after my first trip was to film three old Tibetan shamans. They live in Tashi Palkheil…one of four Tibetan refugee camps in the Pokhara area. I continue to visit each of these families on a weekly basis. Pau is the honorific term indicating Tibetan shaman:

Pau Wangchuk (deceased), wife:  Tsering Dolma, Son:  Trinley, Trinley’s wife:  Asa, Trinley’s son:  Karma Tashi

Pau Rhichoe, Wife: Tserap, Son: Singe

Pau Nyima, Wife:  Tashi, Brother, Tsedup, Daughters:  Tenzin and Dolkar       

When I travel to the camp, I am accompanied by Migmar, who acts as my translator. She runs a souvenir shop Lakeside (tourist area of Pokhara) with her son Chime. Her husband Yeshi and two daughters (Dolma and Sonam) have emigrated to Canada. When I first started traveling to Nepal, I rented a room above their souvenir shop Lakeside.

There are three households of Tibetan elders who Indigenous Lenses supports with monthly stipends that cover food and rent. I try to visit with them to assess needs every couple of weeks. They are:

Tsamchoe Palmo and Dechen Choedon: two elderly women who used to share the same husband.

Tashi Dhondup, Jamyang Dolma and Dawa Dhondup: a sister and two brothers who share a household.

Pasang Kyabyang and Khando Bomkyi: husband and wife.

Tsering Dolma: Wangchuk’s wife. With his passing, we transferred her to the food and shelter group.

We provide cultural support of crafts for two Tibetan women.

Norzin: weaves Tibetan incense bags using a back strap loom. She sits on the ground and leans back to create tension. She lives in the Tashi Palkheil camp

Lobsang: makes Tibetan prayer beads (mallas). She lives in the Tashiling Tibetan refugee camp. Her husband is Phunsok. I visit her once a week, sit with her in her souvenir shack and go to her home for lunch.

I have been using the same taxi driver for all of these years:

Laxman

Wife: Sangita

Son: Anil

Son: Amrit

Daughter: Sunita

Daughter: Anita

I now live with Bel Thapa’s family. He is of the ethnic group known as the Magars. He is also a shaman. He lives with a large extended family, cows, goats, water buffaloes, pigs and chickens. Most people are referred to by their kinship term…so I still don’t know some of the folks names. The kinship terms apply to people related by blood, ethnic group, village or friendship. I am either called Didi (older sister) or Phupu (father’s older sister)

Bel Thapa

Wife: Bishnu

Oldest Daughter: Durga

Durga’s husband: Tika

Durga’s daughter: Simran

Second Daughter: Babita

Babita’s husband: Dhan Bahadur

Babita’s new baby: Izane

Third daughter: Sangeeta (my main translator)

Fourth Daughter: Anita

Son: Anil (when 4 years old given wrong medication that caused brain damage)

Next door:

Hazur Aama (grandmother…Bishnu’s mother)

Oldest son: Krishna: (working in Saudi Arabia. His wife and two daughters live with his mother)

Oldest daughter: Bishnu (Bel’s wife)

Second son: Prem (lives with wife, daughter and son)

Third son: Kamal (lives with wife and two daughters)

Second daughter: Tara (lives close by with two sons…husband away in Indian army)

Third daughter: Jyoti (lives close by with husband and two daughters)

Fourth daughter: Sapana (unmarried and attending school)

Bel’s cousin Somendra is also a Magar shaman and he spends a lot of time with Bel and I. He has a wife (Sangita), a daughter (Anju) and two sons. Their home is down a steep hill by the river.

Bel has a teacher (Guru) who has mentored him in his shamanic practice. I only know his as ‘Guru’. He lives with his wife (Guru’s wife) and daughter (Jyoti).

And so the adventure begins. I have traveled from Salt Lake City to Los Angeles and tonight I’ll begin the long plane ride to Kathmandu via Bangkok. That is an 18 hour plane ride. I’ll have a five hour layover in Bangkok then catch the plane to Kathmandu….another four hour flight. I think I’ll hit the foot massage place then Starbucks for one last Café Mocha while in the Bangkok airport. I cross the International Dateline and lose a day…and move forward 12 hours. Sound like fun?

Again, if you would rather not receive these emails, please let me know and I’ll remove you from the list. I’m also hoping to post these on our web site: www.indigenouslenses.org

Love,

Sarah

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I have traveled safely back to this side of the world…and am enjoying having electricity, running water and a steady supply of hot water. My main struggle now is to adjust back to this time zone. I crash early and find myself awake in the wee hours of the morning.

Before leaving Kathmandu, Bel, Bishnu and I did a major whirlwind exploration of the valley. Last Sunday, we headed south and visited Dakshinkali and Pharping. Sangita’s friend Soni joined us as we visited several sacred Hindu and Buddhist shrines. I took them out to eat at Fire and Ice … an Italian restaurant run by a chef from Italy. Bishnu added pizza to her list of firsts: first airport, first plane ride, first hotel and first elevator ride. Monday, we visited Swayambunath, the hospital where Sangita had her heart surgery, Boudhanath, Pashupatinath and the Kathmandu zoo. Each evening, we gathered in Bel and Bishnu’s room for the raksi we had brought from Pokhara. Early Tuesday morning I put them in a taxi to the domestic terminal so they could return home … and later in the morning I met Ram Capad at the international terminal so he could, once again, swiftly sweep me through the airport gauntlet and seat me at the gate. One nice change now is that you do not have to pay the airport tax. It is included in our place fare. Boy is that a long flight home … but I gained the day back that I lost on my way over. And both flights were uneventful. I arrived on time and with both checked bags and caught the shuttle to the hotel. Due to changes in Thai air’s schedules, I ended up with an extra day in Los Angeles … so Denise … a dear friend I know through the Adopt-A-Native Elder program drove up from Temecula and we spent Wednesday putting around. I got my first Starbucks fix and we took a shuttle to Manhattan Beach for lunch. Flew home on Thursday and have been settling back in…doing laundry (nice not to have to go to a river and beat them on a rock), checking two and a half months worth of mail and reacquainting myself with my home. Cara, the woman who house sat for me did an amazing job, which made re-entry much easier…for which I am deeply grateful.

Indigenous Lenses was able to do a lot of good work this year in Nepal. We are now educating eleven girls and two boys (the boys are from a low caste family). We are providing food and shelter for eight Tibetan elders. We are providing cultural support for two Tibetan shamans and one Magar shaman. We purchased medicine for three individuals. We are supporting two Tibetan women in the continuation of their cultural crafts. We helped with eye care for one Magar woman. We helped to upgrade Pau Rhichoe’s toilet. We helped cover the cost of cardiac surgery (balloon valvuloplasty), gall bladder surgery, hearing tests and the purchase of a hearing aide. And we are purchasing an artificial leg for one man who had his leg amputated. Not bad, huh? For all who have supported us this year … thank you!

I am already starting the fundraising process for next year … so please keep us in mind during this season and in the coming months. This will be the last email until next summer, when I get the ball rolling once again. But please feel free to keep in touch with me in the months between now and then.

Thank you for your interest in these weekly messages!

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Sunday found me sitting for the last time in Lobsang’s shop…trying to entice the tourists to ‘come and have a look’ and that ‘looking is free.’ She gave me the last of the inlaid mallas that I will bring home to sell on her behalf…and a malla made out of amethyst as a gift for me. I ate my last onion omelet with Tibetan flat bread with her and her husband. They both came to Bel’s home on Friday for the final good-bye and to place a kata around my neck.

Monday we started at Pasang and Khando’s home. This is one of the old couples that Indigenous Lenses supports. They told Migmar that without the monthly stipend, they would be desperate. He sells meat in the camp and she sells trinkets at one of the local Hindu temples. If one gets sick and cannot work, there is not enough money to buy food. They said that with the monthly stipend, they now live without constant tension…and for this they say prayers on my behalf and on behalf of all who have donated money… and they hang prayer flags with my name on them on all of the auspicious Buddhist occasions. From there we walked to Trinley’s home. We romped on the floor with his son and Trinley fed us bread and eggs. He makes the most amazing tea…laced with delicious spices that I keep trying to identify. I’m leaving a small HD camcorder and five, one hour tapes so that Trinley can record footage of his son during the months I am away. These will be the beginning seeds of my next documentary…maybe the continuation of Wangchuk’s legacy? His son, Karma Tashi, has the most interesting presence. He will sit quietly and look deeply into your eyes for long stretches of time. It’s like he is an old man. I will look forward to seeing him again in one year’s time to see what he is becoming. His wife had knitted me a most beautiful scarf. And Trinley loaded my bag with boxes of incense. It was then on to the two old women’s home. They are the poorest of the old one’s we support, so that even the offering of a kata comes at a sacrifice for them. They also spoke of how the stipend is the only reason that they are still alive…and that they speak with great wonder that someone from so far away would take more interest in keeping them safe then people who live close by. Dechen, the older of the two, was crying when we said farewell, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. I told Migmar that I was going to put all
of these katas that I was receiving into a bag and have her give them to the two old ones when she delivers their stipend next month. Monday’s last stop was at Norzin and Karma’s home. They served us noodle soup. Knowing that Yeshi (Migmar’s husband) and two daughters have immigrated to Canada, there is the real possibility that one year when I arrive in Nepal, Migmar will be gone. This year she and I have been talking about who would be a good replacement for her if that happens. And the topic has even come up at most of the homes we visited, as they also are quite worried. I think the best choice would be Karma. She is Yeshi’s sister, I have known her for as many years as I have known Yeshi and Migmar, and her English is pretty good. Migmar has started to process of talking about it with her…planting seeds for the future. We are pretty sure that Migmar will still be in Pokhara next year. But just in case…

Tuesday, before visiting Nyima, we stopped in at the house where one old woman and her two old brothers live to say good-bye. They gave me bottles of coke with butter on the cap and we repeated the process of forehead touching and katas. Each of the old ones also put a kata around Migmar’s neck, knowing it is because of her that they were identified as needing help. Migmar tells them that it is not necessary, but I always tell them I am happy that they also honor her. I had my last bowl of delicious flat noodle soup at Nyima’s and we chatted without yelling and repeating sentences because he had his new hearing aide. At one point, it was just he and I and in my broken Nepali and his broken English, we pointed out each of the new sounds that he now can hear. His brother continues to recover nicely from his amputation and spoke of that for many months, he only thought of death. Now, he is not only recovering…but he will be able to get the artificial limb because of Indigenous Lenses. I can hear in his words that he has shifted from only thinking of what can no longer be to what possibilities are now in his future. Their daughter Tenzin, who is away at boarding school was one of five selected out of five hundred at her school to travel to Dharamsala … all expenses paid… to meet His Holiness the Dalai Lama and His Holiness the Karmapa. We spoke of how maybe this is the beginning of a new year of good tidings … that maybe the year of constant distress has come to an end. Wouldn’t that be grand? Nyima’s mother is now 94 and is as frail as a bird. When she put a kata around my neck and spoke words of prayer, I felt my eyes welling up and a deep sadness in my heart…like this might be the last time I receive her blessing.

Wednesday I made my way to Pau Rhichoe’s home for my last visit. When I first arrived he was in a great deal of pain and his wife was quite sick….but now both are doing quite well. He always gifts me with a beautiful Tibetan rug. The floors of my home are covered with these treasures. This year, I am leaving it in my room at Bel’s home so my feet have something warm to step on besides the cold cement floor. His words are always very moving and we always share a poignant hug when it is time to leave. When Wangchuk was still alive, I would always try to soak in his face, knowing that there was a real possibility that I would not see him again. I find myself doing this same ritual now with Rhichoe.

Thursday I ventured Lakeside for a lunch of tuna and potato momos (Tibetan stuffed dumplings) with Migmar and her son Chime. These are usually made with buffalo meat…but I do not like the taste and texture of the buffalo, so found years ago that using tuna fish produced quite a nice dumpling. We said our final good-byes and I spent the rest of the day Thursday and all day Friday packing up my room and getting my bags ready for travel. One benefit of having the room at Bel’s is that they just put a lock on the door and no one uses it while I am gone. This means I do not have to put everything away like I did at Migmar’s place…. I just have to make sure my clothes are in duffel bags so the cockroaches and mice don’t eat them…and put things into the cabinet so they don’t get dusty while I am away. I have also been making the rounds of Bel’s extended family. Each evening, I was informed as to whose home I was to go to for a drink of raksi and some snacks. One night it was with Bishnu’s mother and Kamal…the next night Bel’s daughter Durga had me come to her room behind the house and she cooked momos … Wednesday night it was a Prem’s home…and Thursday, Babita came for my last couple of days and her husband arrived Friday. Yesterday morning, Prem drove us to the airport…and standing outside of the entrance was Migmar, Chime and my driver…all holding katas. We pulled to the side so I could get out and do one more round of tearful good-byes. After all of my many emails griping about cold showers and squatting to go to the bathroom, I have good news. When my upstairs bathroom was built four years ago, it was semi fitted for a shower to be installed at some future date. I told Bel that I think that date has come…and that in the process of installing a shower head and a way to have a hot shower, I would love it if we could put in a ‘pot’. There are several options for having hot water…connect to the already existing solar panels…put a smaller solar panel and tank on top of my bathroom…or install a ‘boiler’ system that heats the water using gas and electricity. I’m voting for that…because rain or shine, sunny or cloudy, hot or cold…I would only have to flip a switch and the water would heat. And the sink would also be connected so I have hot water to wash my face and hands. During the coming months, Bel will get estimates for the various options and let me know. Then he would hire someone to complete the work before I arrived next fall. Please oh please oh please, be reasonably priced!!!!!

So…Bel, Bishnu and I are making the rounds of the Kathmandu valley. Our flight was uneventful… although it was Bishnu’s first plane flight and she held my hand in a death grip the entire way. Yesterday we visited Boudhanalkanti and the hospital where Sangita had her surgery. We met up with Sangita’s friend Soni and she went with us as our tour guide. Her family generously let Bel and Sangita stay with them during their frequent trips to the heart hospital this past spring and summer. We have two days to visit as many holy places as possible…and maybe even get in a visit to the zoo.

Next email will be from home. How surreal!

P.S. Still have mallas and incense bags in case you are looking for Christmas gifts!

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Load shedding has arrived. I really feel quite lucky that I made it this far into my trip before we started losing our electricity. The government announced on the news the other night that 16 hours of electricity must be shed each week. They usually pick a time in the evening when everyone is trying to cook dinner. This problem with the electricity has something to do with a dispute with India over a power plant near the border that both countries share. Last year after I left the load shedding would happen for up to 15 hours a day. And water continues to be a huge problem. It comes every 10 days to Bel’s home…that is to say, it is supposed to come…but it rarely does. Such a small amount is actually sent through the pipes, that Bel’s underground tank rarely receives any. You will hear the sound of air moving through the pipes at around one o’clock in the morning. Bishnu and the girls will spend the rest of the night, trying to get the water to come by using a small engine to pull the water. The next morning, Bishnu will talk about how tired her mouth is from try to suck enough water into the hose to get the process started. They will wake every hour until either they are successful or the water stops coming.

Nepali’s live in the here and now where as I am a planner. Knowing the lights will go out; I grab my headlamp in anticipation. I mean, it goes off on the same day at the same time each week. I even will mention that I think tonight is the night the power will go off at such and such a time and the family will look at me with curiosity. Then when it goes, they all express great surprise that it has, once again gone off as I shine my light towards where they keep the candles. This living in the moment, I believe, accounts for everything starting one or two hours late. Nothing seems preplanned. If all are living in the here and now and the community wants to do a gathering, everyone must complete whatever it is they are doing before all are available to gather. And I’m not talking about spontaneous events. Even large events seem to be not decided until the last minute, leaving everyone scrambling to join. My linear driven way of functioning is always sorely tested. A recent example is that this past Friday was Indigenous Peoples Day. There was an all day festival at the community hall in the downtown market, with each ethnic group demonstrating their songs and dances. This happens every year…but they waited until this past Tuesday to ask Bel’s daughter and her cousins to represent the Magar culture in a dance. Sadly, all of the girls are in the middle of exams….so no one was available to attend.

Last year, one of the major projects that Indigenous Lenses funded was the building of a stone path to lead down to the community’s source of water for bathing and washing clothes. They were unable to complete it before I left, so I had to wait until this year before seeing the end product. News of the venture made it into the local newspaper…which Bel saved for me. Sadly, it’s written in Nepali, so I cannot read it…but they say that my name is mentioned. They also took photos of the blessing ceremony they conducted before laying the first stone. They really did a fabulous job working with large stones to create a series of steps to navigate up and down. Bel wanted to arrange a special thank you gathering, but I told him that was not necessary. If it happens, it will be another one of those let’s do it now phenomenon’s I described above.

I got good news from Migmar and Tashi when I went to the camp this week. They had traveled to Hospital Green Pastures to meet the man who was recommended to me about an artificial leg for Nyima’s brother Tsedup. Tashi had been told by their doctor who amputated the leg to expect to pay 58,000 rupees ($800). Hari, the man who runs the workshop at the hospital told them it would only cost 14,000 rupees ($200) plus the cost of a brief stay (3,000 rupees or $40) so that Tsedup can learn to use the new leg. That is quite a difference. I had told them to mentioned Rob Buchanan’s name as being the one who sent them. I found him on the internet and had exchanged emails with him about the best course of action. He runs a non-profit out of New Zealand that provides artificial limbs at low cost to poor people in Nepal. Both Migmar and Tashi were very impressed with the hospital and Hari, saying he sat with them and answered all of their questions using nice words. They looked at Tsedup’s medical records and a calendar and found the correct date for him to go for his fitting. The stump needs to heal for two or three months. I’m leaving the money with Migmar, so that at the time of the fitting, it will be available. Tashi also took Nyima to have his hearing checked. It’s reached the point where he cannot hear much of what is being said to him. They did a comprehensive hearing test and determined that he has almost no hearing in his left ear. They gave him a hearing aide to try and he was so excited … describing to me sounds that he could hear from great distances. He said he thought he heard rain falling on the roof, but it was Tashi frying food from across the way. They have measured him for a proper fitting device and I hope that he has it the next time I visit so I can take a picture. I think I’ll miss the elaborate dance Migmar and I do with him to try and get him to hear what we are saying. Sometimes what he thinks we are saying is really quite amusing.

Word started arriving this week from the girls whose education we are funding. Exam results for class eleven and above had been posted and they were all calling to let me know they had all passed. This is great news! And it warms my heart that they felt it was important to let me know they are thriving in their classes. Mandatory education is available up to class ten. At that point in time, they take the ‘send up’ exam. For many, this is the end of their education. But if they chose to continue and they pass that exam, they then find a ‘campus’ that has class eleven and twelve. From there they would join a different campus for the equivalent of a Bachelor’s Degree…which is a three year course of study. All of the girls (and the two boys from a low caste) who we are helping plan to complete a Bachelor’s Degree. School doesn’t start here until 10:00 AM and they are finished by 3:00…but they have school six days a week with only Saturday off. I’ve made my last visit to my driver’s home to say good-bye to his family. And ventured Friday to Guru’s home to say farewell and remind him of his promise to do a puja to protect me from swine flu. He gave me a malla made and told me that he has blessed it well…that it will provide me with protection against illness and help to bring me success in all that I do. Yahoo! This coming week will be my last visits to the Tibetan camp. I’ll visit Lobsang for the last time today, Trinley, Pasang and Khando, Tsamchoe and Dechen, and Karma and Norzin for the last time Monday. Tuesday will be Jamyang and her two brothers followed by Nyima. Rhichoe will be my last visit at the camp on Wednesday. Thursday Migmar is making me momos as a farewell meal for lunch and Friday I’ll finish packing. The only good thing about leaving this time of year is I’ll be back to a place with indoor heat and hot showers! You’d be surprised (or maybe not) how old it gets to be constantly chilled.

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It seems like we have entered a time of constant ‘bhandas’. The word
means to close…and the various political groups will call for one at the drop of a hat. This usually means either shops must stay closed…or the mini buses cannot drive…or the taxis must not run…or the large buses cannot go…etc.

There was a threat to close the international airport…but that was,
thankfully, rejected as not a good idea because it would affect the
international travelers. A year ago my travels home were complicated by the closing of the Bangkok airport due to protests…which required a lot of tension when it was time for me to go as I tried to secure a seat on another airline. At the last minute, I was able to get a seat on Etihad airlines and transited through Abu Dhabi. I do not want to have to go through that whole scenario again (although Abu Dhabi International was fascinating)! This past Sunday, there was a threat of a bhanda because two boys were killed while riding their motorcycle. It appears that they were driving recklessly and crashed into a truck. The area where they lived was close to Bel’s neighborhood and the nearest intersection was closed by the boy’s angry families and friends. Any vehicle trying to move through that area was attacked with stones. Bishnu and Sangita had returned to the eye hospital for a check-up and had to navigate the intersection on foot. The police tried to arrange safe passage for all trying to navigate the intersection and once on the other side, were able to hop on a mini bus. On Monday, when my driver arrived to pick me up, he expressed concern because negotiations were going on between the boy’s families and the trucking company…with the boys families demanding money (even though it was their son’s fault). If an agreement wasn’t reached, they would shut down all vehicles again. Monday was the day to visit Trinley, so we knew it would be a short visit. We decided we would head out to the camp and the driver would wait there while we quickly did our visit. He constantly called his other taxi driver friends around town to see what was happening and was always reassured that vehicles were still moving. He safely delivered me back to Bel’s and called later to say all was resolved and we wouldn’t have anymore difficulties at this time. Tuesday there was a bhanda in Kathmandu and all transportation was closed. This meant that tourists trying to return by bus to the capital were turned away…so much for not doing anything that would affect tourists!

Sangita has been studying very hard to take her exit exams for her Bachelor’s Degree. She sat for her exams a week ago Friday and again this past Monday. She thinks she did okay…but will not know for many months. Her sister Babita took her exams last July and still hasn’t learned of her results.

If successful, both will start working on their Master’s degrees. An interesting thing happened out at the Tibetan camp last spring that has me thinking of another humanitarian project to add to what Indigenous Lenses is already providing. A leopard had come out of the mountains and entered the camp at first light. It centered its attention of the old folk’s home, entering and exiting the facility. It attacked several of the camp…a young girl out running got bit on her Achilles heel…it leapt over a man, pushing off of his chest and knocking him down. This left claw marks on his body and he hit his head with such force when he fell that he was hospitalized for quite a while. They finally were able to coral it into a room in the old folks home and placed a bed frame across the opening. Rita’s husband (a Nepali woman who has a small tea shop in the front of the camp) was the one who called the police to come and help. At the exact time that the police shot the leopard dead, Rita’s husband dropped dead. The camp believes this happened because he was the one who called and ultimately caused the leopard’s death. Some people believe that the deities of the camp are very unhappy…there is constant misfortune … a landslide that occurred two years ago and knocked out the camp’s source of water…and that has not been properly repaired so there is no water in the camp…people are dying at such an increased rate that when one 49 day funeral ceremony concludes another one starts. Synge, Rhichoe’s son believes that part of the reason the leopard focused on the old folks home was that at the time of one of the old one’s death, the proper death rites are not conducted due to lack of funds. The most basic of the rites are performed, but in a very simple way. Migmar talked to a lama at the monastery to see what would be the most important rite of the 49 day ceremony to be performed and he told her ‘jangpar’…the burning of the person’s photo or name. So…I’m thinking of offering the option for folks to donate money for this particular cause. Then, when Migmar gets word that an old one has passed, she would go to the monastery and make an offering for jangpar to be done. This would be considered ge wa (sp?)… this means the earning of good merit…for the person who died, for Indigenous Lenses, for the person who donated the money and for me. Something to definitely explore!

When we were in the village last weekend, I got to witness an old Magar custom of showing respect. Bel had brought with him packets of cigarettes and a lighter. Where ever we went, when he came across an elder, he offered him or her a cigarette and lighted it for them. He also carried a bag of candy and would give a piece or two to every child we came across. This custom is also a part of their marriage ceremonies…in that at the time of putting tikka on the forehead of the bride and groom, you offer them each a cigarette. Hmmm! I wonder how such a thing came about.

And speaking of marriage…an old woman who is a matchmaker arrived at the house on Monday. She gave me the willies!!! She is the woman who arranged Babita’s marriage. Sangita says that she is constantly teasing her… telling her she is next. She likes to sit very close to people and stare at them … which wouldn’t be so bad except that she had an awful cough and her burps were quite foul smelling. I took to holding my shawl over my face. A year ago she suffered a stroke, so has partial paralysis in her left hand and leg. She walks with a heavy cane that she loudly pounds the floor with. In the middle of the night, I could hear her roaming about the house. She would talk non-stop for long periods of time. When I asked what she was saying, everyone said that what she says never makes sense so they just nod but pay her no attention. She kept poking me and making gestures that I did not understand. Maybe she wants to arrange a marriage for me? Yikes!

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Also last Monday, Trinley opened his new shop. The camp came out in force to support him in this new venture…offering him cups of tea, katas (greeting scarves) and making small purchases. When I ventured to the camp on Tuesday, I also stopped by, offered a kata, took some pictures and bought some incense. I was so touched by the actions of the camp on his behalf. I am also happy to report that Rhichoe’s toilet is now done. They gave me the honor of being the first to use it. Ahhh! How nice to be finally able to sit down to go to the bathroom. I told them that it’s the only one of its kind that exists in my world as I know it over here…and that it is now my favorite. Rhichoe and his wife have never seen a ‘pot’ before and are quite curious about it. Migmar and I had to educate them about its use…most men stand up to urinate, women sit down…it is kind if the men put the seat up before urinating and then back down so the women don’t ‘fall in’ when it is their turn…both men and women sit when they have bowel movements…and how to flush it. I know some folks stand on the seat and use it as if it is a hole in the ground. I’ll be curious next time I see them to ask what they think about it all.

Somendra’s wife Sangita entered the hospital on Monday and had surgery on Tuesday to remove stones from her gall bladder. The surgery went well and they removed three stones that were each a half an inch in diameter. She was in the Ghandaki Hospital…which is government owned. It’s got to be the most disgusting place I’ve ever been. It’s filthy, there are cockroaches everywhere, mold and there are cracks in the floors, walls and ceilings. And as in all hospitals over here, you are given a bed, but you must provide your own linens, bring your own food and if the doctor prescribes medicine, you must run down to the pharmacy, purchase it and return with it so the doctor or a nurse can administer it. The first night, they kept Sangita in the post-op ward…and her daughter Anju slept on a bench in the hall in case the nurses needed her to purchase medicine. Anju said it was very cold and a bit scary…especially when she had to run down to the pharmacy in the dark. The second day Sangita was shifted to a private room with a toilet because it is difficult for her to walk very far. She was told that she would need to stay from anywhere from 6 days to two weeks in this hell hole. I went each day with Bishnu, Bishnu’s mother and Bishnu’s sister-in-law. We cooked food for the Anju to eat and gave her a chance to go stretch her legs. Somendra seemed adverse to even go to the hospital, preferring that his 18 year old daughter take care of everything. They requested that I say something to him, because he would listen to me…so when he finally showed up at the hospital, I pulled him aside and requested that he please stay that night at the hospital so his daughter could go home and get some rest. Thankfully, he agreed…but made one of his sons also stay. He lamented that he wouldn’t have anything to do is he had to stay by himself. Sigh!
Thankfully, when I returned from the village, it was to news that she had already been discharged and was resting at home.

Friday morning, Bel and I made our way to his village. We had Prem drive us in his taxi. We stopped in Sangye and picked up Bel’s friend Nure (whom Shelly and I had affectionately nicknamed Tall Man). A year ago when we went, we arranged for a jeep to take us up. The road was a narrow, unpaved and rutted adventure that had me with my eyes closed most of the way. This time, we went by a different route. The road was also very narrow, but paved and with no traffic. Prem dropped us off in a small village and we drank a coke before starting our walk. The path we walked on clung to the side of the mountain, with steep drop offs on the side. But it never seemed like we were climbing very much. All of a sudden, we came to the top of a small ridge and I found myself looking down on the village. I was so excited! I had been gearing myself up for a grunt of a climb…and now I only had to be careful about walking down the step stone paths. When we arrived at the first home, all jumped up with great delight on their faces and came over to embrace me. They all exclaimed that I had become fat…which I know they meant I looked healthy, but which my Western sensibilities reacted with an uhuh! They produced the ubiquitous molded plastic chair for the guest of honor to sit on and a cup of hot milk. As news spread, more and more of the villagers arrived to sit and chat (which really means I sit quietly, not understanding any of the conversation that is going on around me because they speak the Magar language and not Nepali so it is Bel and Nure who do the chatting). Shelly: They all asked about you and remembered you fondly. Everywhere we went they asked ‘Arko kaha?…or Sati kaha?..or Biene kaha?…or Nani kaha? (Where’s the other one? … where is your friend? … where is your younger sister? … where is the other granddaughter?) I explained that you were unable to visit this year but that you sent your warmest regards. I especially made a point to convey your greetings to Sai Baba and Bald Man (who this year is not bald). Bel, Nure and I then slowly descended through the village, stopping at each home to chat and drink hot milk. We finally arrived at Kalu’s home where they installed me in his room while he and his wife shifted into the kitchen. They proudly showed me the toilet which they made especially for me…and they outdid themselves. They dug a pit, lined it with rocks and surrounded it with bamboo woven mats. Ahhh, the comforts of home!?!?

Saturday morning, Bel and I made our way to the site where we sat gufa the year before to say prayers to the spirits of that place. I was deeply moved to see how well the villagers had been taking care of the small canyon. It was immaculately clean and they had put small bamboo fenced around each of the rock features where images of their deities had appeared naturally in stone. They expressed their gratitude for the work we had done the year before, because the village had been blessed with peace and wellness. To sit gufa means to spend an entire night in the small caves that line the canyon, working with the spirits who cause harm to the villagers… asking them to be kind. Before we started the prayers, all of the villagers arrived with flowers, fruits, incense, red colored powder and rice. They sat around Bel and I as we said our prayers and gave their offerings to the spirits. Then they put flowered necklaces (mallas) around our necks and the red rice on our foreheads in thanks. A drum was brought out and singing and dancing commenced to express their gratitude. From there we made our way up (you are either going up or going down…which my sore legs can attest to) to one of the homes. The women made shell roti and we all sat and drank hot milk
and ate the bread. Once again, the singing and dancing began…and this continued for three hours. It was so fun! Finally, Bel and I made our way back down to Kalu’s home. Sadly, because of the way the day played itself out, the only food I had access to was provided by the villagers…and by that evening, I was on the side of Kalu’s home vomiting, with Bel behind me patting my back and saying ‘bestari, bestari (slowly, slowly). This lasted for several hours before I was finally able to fall asleep. I know Bel was horrified, but ke garne (what to do)? The next morning, I felt better…just tired and with no appetite whatsoever. I was only able to drink hot tea. Bikesh’s mother kept insisting that I drink some hot raksi…that being their remedy for an upset stomach. But I just couldn’t bring myself to do that. A year ago, the villagers created a book to record the historic event of American shamans coming to their village…and they produced the book once again for me to sign. Bel, Nure and I then began the walk back out to meet Prem and his taxi. We again, went by a different route that took us by the school and did not require much climbing. Prem was there to meet us at the appointed time and we safely made the trip back to Bel’s. Despite the bout of sickness, the entire adventure was fabulous…and I hope this becomes a yearly event.

I only have three weeks left left!

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