Sometimes I do question the meaning of my existence, but this post is just about who I am in different spheres of my Nepali community.
I am
- “Baabu” (baby) to my host mother
- “Bhai” (little brother) to my siblings and cousins, except for my younger sister, who calls me “American dhai”
- “Uncle” to my nephews (but “American uncle” to my youngest)
- A houseguest who hangs around long enough to become one of the family
- “Ramchandra” in my village
- An incompetent American who can’t do simple things like wash clothes by hand
- An skilled American who can perform complex tasks like operating a computer
- “Ben” to those who ask my name and “Byen” to those who can’t pronounce it
- Just another foreigner to strangers but an instant friend when they hear me speak Nepali
- A perceived gateway to knowledge, wealth, and America
- “Sir” to the school children
- A magnet of youthful attention
- A better learner than teacher
- “Ben Bahadur” (Ben the brave) to my government counterpart
- “Dangali kaancho” (youngest of Dang) at the health center
- A voice people listen to
- “Bwags” with my fellow volunteers
- “Ben-ji” (sir) to the Peace Corps staff
- A generalist, pioneer, and guinea pig
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