What’s Black and White and Played All Over

I’d been told that Maajhgaaun (my village) has an excellent soccer field, and this was at least half accurate. By Nepali standards, the field is lovely. The outer boundary is well marked by rock and plant border. A pair of large rocks at either end serves as the goals, which inevitably leads to arguments over whether balls have hit the invisible post or have gone over the imaginary crossbar. The ground is mostly dirt but is also quite rocky, and I marvel at/feel for those who play in flip-flops or even barefoot. A cliff surrounds the field on all sides, which compels us to scramble after overshot balls before they fall over the edge. If this happens, one of the bystanders (typically the younger, less skillful players) or the responsible party descends the plateau in search for it. Last week I received from pretty sizable cuts and scrapes from such a pursuit.

After the first day of classes, I arrived at the field with my thirteen-year-old neighbor and what little Nepali I knew. After brief introductions and a few minutes of passing and juggling the ball, we spontaneously split into teams and began the match. (I later learned that the teams are all but fixed, although based on what I still don’t know).

I am a huge fan of the Nepali style of play. They are not overtly physical, call their own fouls and hand-balls, don’t make a big show out of scoring goals, and are (for the most part) not ball-hogs. This sportsmanship is particularly impressive considering most of these guys have had no formal soccer instruction. They do have a bit to learn in playing defense, however. As my endurance acclimates to the high altitude, I’m finding it easier and easier to blow by them. We’ll play anything from 6-on-6 to 10-on-10, with players ranging from 10 to 22 years old.

One of my favorite things about sports is the paradoxical importance of communication, but the triviality of language. By saying very little, I was still able to ask for the ball, give praise, and keep up with the progress of the game. As my knowledge of the language has improved, I’ve begun cracking jokes. I’ll give the score in terms of foods: andaa-andaa (egg-egg), kera-andaa (banana-egg), simi-andaa (string bean-egg). When the ball tumbles down the hill and is temporarily lost (haarayo), I ask if anyone needs a rabbit (kharayo). They seem to find my stupidity amusing.

Another of soccer’s marvels is its ability to bring together people from all walks of life. Soccer is played all over the world, at the most prestigious of European prep schools and at the poorest of African slums. Whether you invest hundreds of dollars in fields, uniforms, and equipment or buy a ball for $5 (as I did in Chautara), the game is largely the same. Young men of all castes come to compete on Maajhgaaun’s rocky soccer ground.

In all our cultural and language training thus far, we have largely avoided the issue of castes. To give some brief background from my high school world history class, the caste system has its origins in the Hindu belief in karma and reincarnation. The better one lives his/her life, the better his/her status in the next life. Eventually, an individual can work his/her way out of the caste system and achieve moksha (liberation from the cycle of life). Initially, caste was associated more with one’s education and occupation, but over time it became a highly stratified socioeconomic hierarchy. Certain castes are associated with certain professions and last names.  Hindus do not typically marry outside their caste, or their children will inherit the caste of the parent with lower status. The concept of jutho (impurity) also comes into play here: those of low status are considered untouchable, while the higher castes have some stricter dietary, ceremonial, and behavioral guidelines to maintain their purity. Nepali society is complicated by the fact that a large percentage of Nepalis are descended from Indians, who brought the caste system with them when they immigrated to Nepal. The indigenous peoples displaced by this migration are now referred to as “ethnic minorities,” some of which themselves have their own socioeconomic hierarchies.
 

My Chetri family, however, is not so progressive. Yesterday, I learned from my LCF that my aamaa does not approve of my playing soccer with some of the Dalit boys. I was not even aware they were Dalit. While it is not my job to change her mind about the caste system, we’ve been told than some of our Peace Corps projects will involve working with ethnic minorities and marginalized communities. The attitude towards the caste system is rapidly changing: on the whole, the younger generation cares very little about caste. When my language is a little better, I look forward to pressing my aamaa more about her beliefs.

Baaf re baaf!

What a whirlwind the past few days have been! On Friday we drove to Chautara, leaving early because of a potential bandh in the late morning. Bandhs (a distinctly Nepali word and practice) typically consist of crowds halting traffic at large intersections, and may happen spontaneously or may be scheduled far ahead of time. People may bandh over a political disagreement, over high fuel prices, even over a dead chicken. When the police intervene, things may become violent. Some of the staff joke that Nepalis’ favorite sport is bandh.

We made it out of the city without issue. Soon we were cutting through the mountains uncomfortably close to the edge of narrow roads. Fortunately, we had the scenery to distract us, as picturesque view after picturesque view passed us by.

A man changes a tire in the middle of the mountain pass.

Three hours later, we arrived in Chautara, the site of our community-based training (CBT) pre-service training (PST) hub. There, we met our language and cultural facilitators (LCFs), who will be living with us and teaching us in our community. After lunch, we took our seats to await host-family introductions. Again, nerves ran high as the Peace Corps staff oriented the Nepalis to the expectations of being a host family. Finally, the pairing began. I was thrilled to meet my mother (aamaa), a smiling elder women who had been cracking jokes during the orientation. Having hosted a PST (Peace Corps Trainee) the previous year, she told the room that she'd cried a great deal when he left for his permanent site, and that she would cry as much for me. Very touched, I told her I was so happy to meet her (in Nepali), and we headed downstairs for a snack. Here was the first sign of the barriers to come, as I knew how to discuss only names, family, and food, while she tried to talk about all sorts of other things. This continued throughout hour-long trek through the hills (read: mountains), although here the schoolchildren who accompanied us provided some simple translation.

Hiking to our new homes

Arriving at my new home, I met my (bubaa) and older brother (dai). The evening and following days were full of smiling, head shaking, and “I don’t understand” (bujina). Despite my inaptitude, they are very kind people and are understanding of my current difficulty with the language

Our two-story house is nestled in the mountainside at a bend in the road. The kitchen is just in front of and below the house. Further down are a variety of fields containing rice, tomatoes, grass, and more, as well as one barn containing corn and another containing the animals. My host family, who are farmers, work very hard all day in the fields. We own 3 water buffalo, 9 goats, 5 chickens, and 5 rabbits (kept as pets, although aamaa seems to think that picking them up by the ears isn’t unkind). Next door lives another PCT and her family, who I believe are my uncle, aunt, and cousins. Almost everyone in the village seems to be related; even if they are not, Nepalis commonly refer to one another as kin (uncle, son, sister, etc.).

My home

The view from the front porch

My room has just about everything I could ask for: a light, a power outlet, a bed with a mosquito net, a bench, a chair, a desk, and two windows. Upstairs we have a TV (which never seems to work). Cell phone service is inconsistent and internet nonexistent.

My room

I awoke the next morning to find a mouse sleeping in my clothes (he remained sleeping as I put him in a box and was just beginning to awaken when my aamaa through him off a cliff). I'll keep my bag closed from now on.

Saturday is the weekend in Nepal (they work on Sundays), so we had the day off too. The previous day, we had decided to go to a temple and river with the cluster from the adjoining village, but we didn’t realize that we were in for a five-hour hike. As is typical here, our local guide (my auntie) wore flip-flops and moved with ease through the steep, narrow, and often slippery pass, while we skidded and stumbled. We soon reached the temple (which was nothing special) and later the river. A few hours in, we were thoroughly relieved to find a small shop that sold juice boxes of mango juice, and many of us bought two or three for about $0.20 each. When we returned, my aamaa made tea and let us hold our rabbits.

Classes began the next day, and we quickly fell into a routine. Here’s my typical schedule:

6AM: wake up. Everyone else has been up for hours, so I feel lazy. Shower, dress, and have morning tea (always scalding hot, and with plenty of buffalo milk)

6:45: walk up the hill to language class. Greet everyone along the way, and ask if they have eaten their morning snack (this is the standard, polite greeting in Nepal).

7-9: language class with LCF

9:15-10:30: eat morning meal (rice and lentils, often with cooked vegetables, and buffalo milk)

10:45-12:45: walk back up to language class, now asking if everyone has had their morning meal

1:45-3:15: meet up with two other clusters for a group lesson on culture, safety, or training

4-5:30: hang out with other PCTs, have tea and/or snack

5:30-7: play soccer with local youth

7: more rice and lentils, cooked vegetables, and buffalo milk

7:30-8: do homework

8:30: go to sleep


Occasionally mixed in are: fetching water; cutting grass; feeding animals; helping with cooking; doing laundry; and long conversations I understand almost nothing.

Our classroom

The soccer field

My apologies for the long post. In the future, I’ll get more into the idiosyncrasies of Nepali life.

Final Days of Initial Orientation

Several of the current Peace Corps Volunteers (PCVs; we won't be considered PCVs until our swearing in on November 21) are assisting us throughout our pre-service training, for about a week at a time each. They have been an invaluable resource for questions on culture, language, work, and daily living; plus they are generally awesome people. We call them the trailblazers, as they were the first group back into Nepal after the 8 year hiatus and have had minimal guidance from earlier groups.

Tuesday evening, four of us attempted to play volleyball with a few of the youth and hostel staff, with what little Nepali we know. Laughter proved to be the primary mode of communication, and we played until we could no longer see in the dark. We asked to play again the next day, and did.

Wednesday was a big day, as we received our cluster site assignments, where we will be living for the next ten weeks of preservice training. The tension was almost unbearable as we were divided into our cluster groups (4-5 people) one by one. I'll be in the village of Mahjgaun, staying with a family of four. My host father is a farmer, and the family owns 2 water buffalo, 7 goats, and 5 chickens. I'm very excited to have a large soccer field and a lake nearby!

Later that the day, we received earthquake training. Minor earthquakes (bhukampa, or bhuichaulo) are common, but Nepal is overdue for a large earthquake, the effects of which will (not could, or would) be devastating for large cities like Kathmandu due to the unsound architecture and the likelihood of liquefaction. Fortunately, we should be much safer out in the rural villages. We also had training sessions on trainee diversity, water filter assembly (which the Peace Corps provides), and a language lesson on family.We ended the day with an hour-long session on oral hygiene. As oral health is a major concern during Peace Corps service, we were taught proper brushing and flossing techniques and their importance for overall health. Turns out I'd been doing both wrong my whole life.

Wednesday was also the birthday of two of our volunteers/trainees. In Nepal, birthdays are typically celebrated only for children, and the birthday boy/girl gives others candy rather than receiving gifts. Nevertheless, we celebrated with cake, soda, and song after the American fashion.

Thursday consisted of training on emergency protocol, a lesson on the political situation on Nepal, language instruction on Nepali food, a discussion on women's empowerment, and a few final vaccinations. Nepal has a very interesting political history and present situation, which I cannot write about here but encourage you to read about. At this point, a few of us are anxious to leave the hostel, but most seem anxious about moving in with host families with such basic language skills. We'll just have to see how it goes. At 8AM on Friday morning, we will depart for Chautara to split into our cluster sites and move in with our host families!

Learning how to talk about Nepali food in Nepali

Other notes:
Eating with hands, using the charpi (latrine), cold showers, and other facets of life here are getting easier by the day. I still have yet to sleep through the night, however, with the barking dogs, crowing roosters, honking cars, blaring music, and "laughing yoga". We're not really sure what this is, but it seems to happen every morning.

As always, feel free to post any questions, comments, or requests.

Pahilo din ra rosro din (first and second day)

We’ve been very busy since our arrival in Nepal yesterday afternoon. After a cushy flight on Thai Air (including a great in-flight meal and more free alcohol than anyone could possibly need), we began our descent through the clouds to the Nepali Airport, which the history channel has rated the world’s most dangerous airport (in terms of landing). The view of the mountains from the plane window was breathtaking. On the ground, we received a very nice reception from a number of Peace Corps staff, as well as the U.S. Ambassador to Nepal. A twenty-minute bus ride brought us to our hostel in Bahktapur, the site of initial orientation (IO), our first five days of pre-service training (PST). The Peace Corps has an obsession with acronyms, and we are already swimming in alphabet soup. At the hostel, we were greeted with tika (red a signifying respect). After unpacking, we began our training with introductions to the staff and schedule. Dinner that night was absolutely miTho (delicious), complete with dhal baat (the traditional rice and lentil dish of Nepal), naan, vegetable curry, salad, and spicy chutney. Traveling as a vegetarian was difficult (none of the airlines seemed to have meatless meals), but the Nepalese eat little meat and seem to be very understanding. Our cook even makes a small vegetarian dish and delivers it to our group’s three vegetarians every meal!

Our backyard in Bahktapur

The next morning, we all awoke between 4 and 6 AM to a cacophony roosters, dogs, and music. Our second day (rosro din) was packed with informational sessions. I’ll try only to share most interesting bits of these sessions, as they will be long and many over the next eleven weeks. We also received a few of the many immunizations required for Peace Corps service.

Before dinner, a number of us traveled out of the hostel with Daulat-ji (our Training Manager) and Chakra-ji (our Training Coordinator) to see the town and buy supplies. Our backyard here has both a badminton and volleyball net, so I purchased a volleyball for 600 Nepali rupees (a little less than 6 USD). On the way back, we stopped at the local Hindu temple, where Daulat-ji introduced us to some of the Hindu gods and rituals.

View of sunset from the road

Here are a few interesting cultural/lifestyle notes from the past two days:

Eating:

Nepalis may eat sitting at tables or on the ground. Females typically prepare and serve the meal, eating only after the men and any guests have finished. Nepalis don’t use silverware; instead, they gather a small ball of food in their fingers and push the food into their mouths using their thumb. This technique is actually easier than it sounds, and most of us are already fairly comfortable with eating with our hands. Nepalis also eat very quickly, so I feel right at home.

In addition, certain practices are considered juTho (taboo). Eating with one’s left hand, sharing food that one has already tasted, and sharing drinks that have touched one’s lips can be offensive. Giving or receiving items with one’s left hand; facing the soles of one’s feet towards another, overstepping things of value, and certain public, physical contact with one of the opposite sex (e.g. hugs) are also considered juTho.

Festivals:

The next month is full of festivals. For example, yesterday was Teej, the women’s festival. All women wear red and travel to the temple to pray to Parvati, the wife of Shiva. The married women pray for their husbands, and the unmarried ones pray for a good husband. Nepalis celebrate the festivals with raski, a homemade alcohol typically distilled from rice or corn. We have been advised not to drink raski due to the potential for impurities in the water used in distillation, in addition to the typical dangers associated with drinking unregulated moonshine.

Women entering a temple during Teej

Daulat-ji introduces us to some of the Hindu gods

Utilities:

During initial orientation, we have running water, electricity, and wireless internet. Our power goes off at 10 at night, but also at odd times throughout the day. Most of Nepal’s electricity is hydroelectric, so during the monsoon season power tends to be pretty reliable.

Toilets:

This has been an adventure, and what we heard about the old Peace Corps holds true. Nepali toilets are essentially holes in the ground, and they don’t use toilet paper. Relieving oneself requires squatting, and a bucket of water and one’s left hand are used for cleaning (instructional video here). As a result, the left hand is considered unclean and is almost never used in day-to-day life. Squat toilets are more of an effort, but really aren't so bad.

Chakra-ji gives us a defecation demonstration

Group learning about squat toilets