Happy Holidays

       Desain, Nepal's greatest holiday, has finally arrived. We've had plenty of other holidays mixed in with our school days, but Desain brings new traditions with our families and a fifteen day break in which our students will be treated to new clothing and sweets. My days leading up to Desain have been filled with lovely walks with my four year old sister and my Bauju and lots of evening splitting open peas and peeling garlic for our dinner. I've been learning to make nearly all of the Nepali dishes that we set our table with, and have been completely inspired to make all of more of my food by hand when I return to the United States (why in the world do we make everything from jars and boxes when it tastes so much better handmade?).

       The coming of Desain also means the climate changing from "garmi" (hot) to "sital" (cool). We've had lots of rain storms and the clouds are slowly clearing to give me the beautiful view of the mountains that the teachers have been promising.

A glimpse of the mountains from my rooftop

            The last day of school before the holiday was filled with lots of singing and dancing. I never find out about these things until the last minute, but we even had a dance competition instead of class for the last half the the day. It started to pour down rain, but many of the students didn't mind, continuing to dance as the drops fell, smiles still plastered on their faces. 

       

        Emily and Ellen, the other two ETAs in Gorkha, and I hopped on a microbus the next morning for a smooth, easy ride to Kathmandu. We came in to spend a few days of the holiday with the other ETAs in Lalitipur and to say goodbye to Caitlin, an ETA who will be returning home early in a few days. She had the misfortune to contract some unknown Nepali disease that kept her in the hospital for fourteen days. Though she is feeling much better, she will continue fully recovering back in the United States. We'll miss her a bunch and are happy to get one last weekend with her. 

        The weekend has been a mix of shopping, errand running, American food eating, and birthday celebrating. Though we were about a week late of the actual date, we surprised Alanna with a chocolate birthday cake and enjoyed a nice lunch on a balcony in Patan. The best thing about the weekend has been enjoying each other's company again, after a month at our individual placements, and having a little bit of freedom - something we often lack living with our protective Nepali families. That, and indulging on American breakfasts - muffins, yogurt, omelettes, coffee, waffles - It's become our new rule that when you return to Kathmandu you eat anything but Dahl Baht (though I am still a huge fan of my families cooking). 

            Here is our last picture with us altogether. I feel extremely grateful for all of these girls. For their understanding, and for the fact that we take care of one another, sing together, joke together, and make hilarious attempts at cooking together. Though the experience at times is a very individual one, I've also made some of the closest friends of my life. Can't wait to continue sharing the journey with them. Here's to some more American food (pasta anyone?) before returning back to my wonderful Nepali home. 

Mixtures of Gray

 
     Teaching in Nepal has officially become one of those experiences in life that makes me think everything from here on out will be a piece of cake. One of those experiences I think I'll refer back to with appreciation saying - well as least it's not Nepal.

First Grade

The challenges of teaching in Nepal are messy and complicated, like yards of rope all tangled together into a million knots - with me tied up in the center. It's a sticky mess of good and bad, things that you can change and can't change, and mixtures of frustration with joy. But if you learn anything from traveling, viewing other cultures, and from teaching children day after day, it's that the world is not black and white.



               Let's start with the good: my students are slowly, very slowly, learning to do simple addition. They all failed it on the first exam, so I consider this progress a great accomplishment. Two or three have subtraction down as well - though I'm almost positive they don't understand the actual concept of it. My first graders are also picking up vocabulary fast, they are truly little sponges at this age.

My 2nd Grade Class

 More good: My second graders love me. They have started giving me little handmade paper flowers and boats, and always smile when I pass by their room. I've also had fun days with the older students - playing games and explaining material much farther than most teachers do here. I've learning almost all of my first grader's names by now (though I found out there are actually 41 of them, not 34 - they just don't always all come to school). And I've had the joy of seeing an extremely reckless classroom of children fall silent and content to the act of drawing when I gave them each just one crayon (I can't begin to name the things we take for granted in the US).


    The Bad: This list could get long. First of all, the discipline has gotten out of hand. Well, it's always been out of hand, but it's gotten worse... if that's possible. I've seen first grade classrooms in the US before, I know how six-year-olds are capable of acting, but here the bad discipline (aka kids running around everywhere, hitting each other, rubbing their hands on the chalkboard, ect) is seen as normal "baby" behavior and all the teachers do is comment that their head hurts after class and write off the children as naughty. When the teachers do orient the class, they do it by hitting students, sometimes very hard, and pulling on their ears. No wonder the students think it's okay to push and hit each other.

First Grade

    All of my challenges here - uncontrollable classes, lack of materials, extremely diverse abilities in each class -  are connected to everything and everything is connected to them - connected to the poverty, the culture, and the practices at the school.  The bad discipline is connected back to Nepali culture and parenting - where literally every kid whines to get what they want. I see this with my own younger sister and with children in the community. It shows through to the classroom, where I've had one kid repetitively ask me for a pink crayon for literally five minutes straight despite the fact that I very clearly told her that she wasn't getting one.

          The discipline that works in the US doesn't work here well for so many reasons - sending a note home to parents isn't a practice that is done (most of the parents are illiterate), the principal doesn't ever deal with misbehavior, and the huge class sizes make reward systems difficult (not to mention I don't have the language to fully explain them - my star chart only lasted one day before it was ripped down and erased). Because of the discipline, my teaching is falling short. I can't play nearly any classrooms games anymore because of the bad behavior, let alone hand out crayons (literally, they can barely handle one crayon, though I'd like to give them buckets). With my energy taken up herding Samitra back to her seat and grabbing Sushil's arm to keep him from hitting the boy next to him, lessons are cut short and made unsuccessful. After trying star charts, prizes, call and responses, and resorting to lots of yelling over the loud screams and cries of the classroom, I am exhausted. I'm especially exhausted during those times when I feel like I've exhausted all of my options.

          I've sworn a few times in class - the benefit of no one knowing English - and have left a few classes on the edge of tears. But I love my students and teachers too much to give up. And the truth is - my options will never be exhausted. There's always something else to try, something else to do, something else to pull out of my tool box, even when it feels like I'm groping against its empty bottom. And sometimes I may have to let the class go up in flames and just sit in the back teaching one student to count on their fingers, but it's progress none the less. As much as I hate the system I'm stuck in, I know I'm still strong enough to swim through it, no matter how fiercely it's current throws me back.

       I visited one of my favorite student's home today as I have before. Despite the fact that I speak to her in Nepali, she answers all my questions with a "yes" or "no" in a cute Nepali accent. Even though she is only six, she has such strong motivation to learn English, and a loving mother who taught her "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." Their one room house only speaks a little to their poverty. With the husband in Dubai, the mother brings water from a well everyday and tends to the vegetables growing near as well as taking care of her children. As I braided Reeya's hair I could tell she had lice and realized there was also no bathroom near the house. I've promised them I would print the pictures I have taken of their family for them, as they have very few pictures in the house and Reeya's mother has no way of documenting her young children's growth. They treated me to what little food they had and asked me to dance to the Nepali music they played. As I walked away from their house encompassed by the mountains, I was reminded that it's students like Reeya that fuel my fire for teaching, no matter what obstacles I may be fighting in the classroom. There are so many people in this world that have been given so little - and if I, who has been given so much, can be a part of giving them at the very least an education, then I will continue to push past challenges in order to do that.


It is frustrating to feel like you are fighting the ones you are trying to help - especially in my class of fifty-four where I can already see that the students in the back of the class have lost their motivation for learning. But when you know they deserve someone to keep fighting for them, that's exactly what you do.

Everyday is different. Some bad, some good... but all are a mixture of gray. It's far from simple.

Beautiful Nepal

 When the internet is strong enough to post pictures in Nepal, that is exactly what you do. Here are some visuals of the beautiful place in which I live.

A River Near Our House

5 day old goats!

Walking with my Ama

Homework with Sachina

Just a walk away

The River

With some students who live nearby

I'm in love with the Mountains


All my love to those back home!! :)

Teej Festivities

Here are some photos from Teej with my family. They aren't unhappy, I promise, it's just Nepali culture not to smile in photos. For the festivities they dressed me up in my Bauju's wedding Sari. They all told me that I looked like a doll and that I danced just like a Nepali daughter. Despite the fact that Sari's are completely impractical for walking (or doing anything really for that matter), it was so nice to be so warmly included in the culture.

My Nepali Family (plus my Ama's sister & Sochina's friend)

My Sister-In-Law (Love her so much)

At Kaihrani Bazaar for the festivities

One of the dancers who competed

Dancing with the locals

Exams

 I don't think I've ever wanted out of a classroom so bad.

          Nepali exams are an experience of their own. I'm happy to say I've survived the week and a half of exams here, but I can't say they haven't scarred me. My first day of exams was by far the worst experience that I've had here in Gorkha (even worse than getting stung by a giant hornet in the shower). I say this in a laughing manner now, but at the time I was miserable. One of my friends here is has been horribly ill for the past week, so in her honor I will say that if Nepali exams end up being my worse experience here in Nepal, I will have come out very lucky.

       That being said, it was still an absolutely awful and incredibly frustrating experience. In the upper grades, I later found out that the students sit quietly to complete their exams. This is not the case in the younger grades. Instead, the students are talkative and loud. The exams, or at least the instructions for each question, are too hard for almost all of the students. The students spent the entire two hours calling out "Miss, Miss" and I spent the entire time running between different students trying to give them hints on how to answer the question instead of the answer itself. Unfortunately, I quickly found that students in Nepal are not used to this. They are used to copying down exactly what is written. Which explains why, when I pointed to different examples and said "like this" in Nepali, all they did was copy exactly what I had pointed to. And again I would say "like this but not the same," and was often met by blank stares. Imagine 40 some individuals packed into crowed benches basically wanting you to do the exam for them.

          This basically sums up the entire exam period for me - running back and forth, trying to explain what was already too hard for the students, and working around the faulty questions printed on the exam. I swear, on the third grade English exam, there were about ten errors on just the first page, some which prevented students from selecting a correct answer. "This is ____ orange. (a, am)" for example. My thought was that maybe, despite how awful the exam was,  the results would at least give me some sense of what the students can and can't do. But even this didn't come out well, because when the students weren't copying off of each other's papers, the other teacher in the room was giving them the correct answer. To be succinct, the exam was a complete waste of time. I ended up trying to teach one student double digit addition during the exam because at least I thought this might be somewhat productive.

       Exams here last for an entire week, but luckily, I was told that "as a guest," I should walk around and see all the exams instead of helping to proctor one specific exam. I gladly accepted this privilege and spend the rest of the week touring exam rooms and creating teaching materials in the office.

        Sometimes it feels as though I am stuck inside a teacher's worst nightmare - huge class sizes, extremely diverse needs, discipline problems, bad textbooks, no teaching materials, and a broken exam system. There are also many things to be thankful for, but the government textbooks and exams definitely don't make the list. I feel like I am constantly fighting against the curriculum. The teachers are of course teaching for the exams, which come directly from government textbooks. If the exams are bad and the textbooks are worse. They jump around between tenses that the students have not learned and are full of specific and pointless vocabulary (like the name for every single nationality, insect, and baby animal when the students don't even know the present tense). I've tried my hardest to plan a curriculum that follows the textbook at least a little - but the textbooks cover what could be a month's worth of material in just three pages. I struggle to see how I could fit in such much information when so many students are already so behind - and therefore not ready for new material.

            The most frustrating thing about these challenges is knowing that all of these problems all stem from far off problems - problems out of my reach: a corrupt government system that doesn't section off enough money for education, poverty-stricken and uneducated parents not teaching their children, a tradition of rote memorization and creativity-stifling teaching methods. Where to even start, I don't know. The layers of dysfunction are so stacked up against me that sometimes it feels so silly to try tackling them with ABCs and 123s. But that's where I'm beginning today - since I did find out from the exams that the majority of my first graders don't know how to count or write the alphabet.

             I'm extremely happy to be back to teaching and the frustration I feel from being met with so many challenges is most certainly balanced out by the peer joy of seeing my loud first graders fall silent to writing the alphabet on handmade whiteboards and watching my co-teacher lead the students in a game of red light/green light. Thank god exams are over, until next time at least.

Here are a few exam questions to ponder over, I hope you find them as entertaining as I do.

(Grade 4 English)

Unscramble to make meaningful sentences:
                                       good / I / girl / am
                                       read / He / a book

Fill in the blank:      A god's home is a _______. (correct answer: Kennel - they meant to say dog)

(Grade 4 Health)

 True or False: 
                                We should let the nail grow long. (T/F)
                                It is a good habit to scratch ears. (T/F)
                               Dirty water is used for cleaning our body (T/F)


(Grade 5 English)

 Fill in the blank:                            A person who looks sick people is a ______________.
Use the phrase in a sentence:         a peace of meat

(Grade 3 English)

Fill in the blank:           Nice ___ meet you, Rita. (two, too)

(Grade 2 Social Studies and Creative Arts)

Fill in the Blank:           _____________ is needed to makes pictures. (pen/pencil)
                                     I can ________ in a straight line. (run/walk)
True or False: 
                                     We eat dirty food.
                                     We must be neat and clean. 
                                     We must always go to school. 

True or False:              It's a good habit to sleep by reading


(Grade 5 Social Studies)

Fill in the blank:          Wine is the _____ substance. (alcohol, smoking, expensive)

True or False:              We can hate the weak friend in our class. (T/F)

And My favorite...

(Grade 3 Social Studies):

Fill in the blank:             All my family members ________ me. (love/hate)

I'm pretty sure the school would get sued if that was on an exam in the United States. Only in Nepal.

"Basnus"

       As mentioned before, I'm reminded more and more everyday just how different life is here from my life in America. Sometimes I see only subtle difference, other times I am taken back by vast oceans of cultural variation. Since my family doesn't want me walking around by myself much, I've taken to touring the neighborhood with my father. It's very enjoyable, but it's far from what I would call a "walk" in the US. In fact there is not much walking at all - it's quite impossible to make it very far on these Nepali walks.  As we walk down the road, maybe five minutes in we meet someone we know well - a relative or school teacher, and after we greet them we are immediately asked to sit. The greeter often stands up to give their own seat to me. The phrase
"basnus" which mean means please sit is an excellent way to describe Nepali culture in general I think. Though many Nepalis work harder than many Americans I know, the concept of resting is very important in Nepal - as is the politeness of offering one a seat. The phrase is said so often, to me and others, that you would think standing is a crime. These so called walks turn into two hours of touring around the neighborhood two minutes away from our home, sitting at five or six different locations and drinking tea at at least one of them.

      It's quite pleasant really, except when you are craving a real walk. I get very little exercise here, except for going up and down the stairs several times a day. I'm also just tired of sitting, but I even now feel weird when I am standing, mostly because I know it makes those around me uncomfortable. They treat each other so nice here - offering food, tea, and a seat without ever expecting a thank you - and they treat me, as their guest, even better. It's overwhelming, to be treated so well honestly. It's hard to accept that they won't let me wash the dishes, that I am always the first to be served food, and that I am provided special treatment when I could name one hundred other people that deserve it more.

      I have told my family, that seven months is a long time to be a guest, and some of the special treatment has lessened a bit thankfully... but in Nepali culture, they say that "a guest is god." It's a little hard to argue with that. I will be a welcomed guest here (especially because of my white skin, my English language, my American nationality) for a long time, and it has definitely become a learning experience for me in understanding my white privilege.  And it's also the struggle of balancing my culture (of not wanting bother anyone or cause any extra work) and theirs (always automatically giving and doing extra work for others). There is really no Nepali words for please and thank you... so I smile and use my American words, and they say "welcome."

Teaching

      Undeniably, the highlight of these past few weeks, and what will continue to be my highlight throughout my time here, has been every moment I have spent in the classroom. My school, Shree Mahendra Higher Secondary, is a very nice collection of classroom that outline a large grassy field and a magnificent view of the nearby hills. The school itself has many more facilities than most Nepali schools - bathrooms, a large office space, whiteboards in most classrooms, and a small library. Despite this, there are a million and one differences between Shree Mahendra and the American school I've worked in at home - differences that I find incredible challenging and overwhelming: small fixed benches and skinny bench style tables all hammered together so that they are impossible to move, dirt floors often with water collected in the corner, and stark walls.

My First Grade Classroom

        Never have I realized how the structure of a room can be so important. In my University education classes, we often talked about how we would group our students in our classrooms - imagining there would always be many options to choose from. In Nepal, those options simply aren't always available. I prefer arranging students in teams, something that is nearly impossible in Shree Mahendra's classrooms. The layout prevents me from laying out materials for students to see, from playing large group games, or from bringing all of my first graders in close for a story. No carpets, no stations, no materials or toys. I'm planning to bring in what I can in the coming weeks, starting                                                                                           with buckets of crayons.

            In addition to these challenges, I've never before faced such large class sizes. When we visited the school, I had assumed that the teachers were exaggerating the class sizes - since they sounded almost proud of the fact that they could crowd sixty students in one room. Well my assumptions were wrong. No exaggerations, the class sizes really are that big here, unfortunately, averaging about 40 students per class.

     My first class of the day is with 34 first graders. I love them, and I am sometimes lucky enough to have them all engaged at once with a fancy story or song, but often, I lose two or three to the back of the classroom, four or five will be scribbling on the desk and not paying attention, and one girl in particular will be periodically running up to the chalkboard to wipe chalk on her hands. Another thing to note - chalkboards were a horrible invention. Never use a chalkboard with first graders.

        I'm still extremely fond of my first graders though, of their sweet smiles and excitement at each material I bring out. Some of them are incredibly smart while others have obviously never been taught or read to at home. I help in first grade math as well and quickly learned that some of the students are
adding and subtracting while others cannot even count. The disparity at such a young age is incredibly worrisome.

5th Grade Section A

      After some games of red light/green light and a story with the first graders, I attend a much more calm class with one of the fifth grade sections. They always get excited when we have time to play a game, which isn't often. By this age, the teachers almost strictly use the textbook, which is no good to begin with. For this reason, Christine told us it's better to stick with the younger grades.

           Period three, class three. Oh boy. Where do I begin. My eyes widened a bit when I walked into this class the first day. I counted heads several times and finally came out with 54. Fifty four students. All crammed into one tiny class so that the students seated along the part of the bench  closest to the wall are almost unreachable. 54 names to learn. 54 needs to meet. Apparently this class could not be split up because there are not enough rooms in the school. So there it is, fifty four students and all, in a classroom much smaller than the typical American classroom. Their names, three weeks into teaching, I've still not learned. I'm not sure if I'll ever get that far, but I'm giving myself a little lee-way since I work with over 150 students everyday, more than most of the other ETAs have in their school. Not to mention all of the students look the same to me (facial features from different ethnic groups are harder to distinguish - plus they all have black hair) and they all have strange names. I'm lucky if I can get close to pronouncing their names, let alone remembering them.

Some Students from Class 2

After class three, I will teach class one math, another class one English, and class two. Even though it is at the end of the day when the students should be the most antsy after five hours of school likely without eating, class two is by far my favorite class. The class is slightly smaller (only 25 students) and they act like it is Christmas Day every time I walk into the room. Every time we start a song or game, it's hilarious to watch them slowly creep up out of their seats toward me until they are all crowded around me and I have to tell them to sit down again. Their energy and excitement is contagious, not to mention they are an extremely clever class, years ahead of many of my grade one students.

The forty minute periods I spend with each class always feels too short - but after a long day of teaching, the chiya (tea) always tastes sweeter, and I can enjoy an evening sitting outside our house with my family.

 Besides teaching, I've adopted being an artist as my second job, as I spend at least two hours every day drawing and making teaching matierals. My goal is to leave the teachers I work with ample teaching supplies to use for years to come. I can understand that with families of their own, other chores to do, and a salary of only $180 - $280 a month they don't have the time or motivation to make the materials on their own. I'm happy to take this on as something I can leave behind, and since my father happens to own a lamination machine, my hope is that the materials will be durable enough to last.

Teaching Math on Homemade Whiteboards

ABCs

Teaching here has challenged me in so many ways, but it also inspires me, motivates me, and fills me with joy. Seven months seems like so little when I think of how much I want to give to my students, how much I want to see them grow.  I wouldn't want to be doing anything else.

All my love to those back home.

A Nepali Picnic

          Somehow during our month long teacher training with Christine Stone we got on the subject of Nepali Picnics. "Nepali picnics are just horrid," our teacher told us. "They slaughter a goat, and then the men drink and gamble while the women cook all day long." Nepali picnics, she warned us, should be avoided at all costs.
        Well there I was in my first week of teaching, and I had already managed to get myself invited to a Nepali picnic. Figures.

         But I wasn't too worried. The picnic would be on Saturday with all of the teachers at our school, many of which speak English and all of whom are very friendly and loving. In the days beforehand, along with spending every rest period planning the menu, the teachers joked with me about whether I would drink and dance with them.
         The day of, all the teachers crowded onto a colorful bus, that stopped five or six times for more food and people to be loaded on. Local drums were playfully beaten as we drove to our destination: a beautiful public area on the side of the river with a few coverings in case of rain.
        I had somehow agreed to eating four slices of white bread that morning because my Ama insisted that we wouldn't be eating until later in the day. That was not the case. As soon as we arrived, a whirlwind of cooking and chatting started. After praying at the temple and being given a Tika by my grade one co-teacher, I sat with the women and watched them cut vegetables while others handed us tea and boiled eggs and fried chicken to taste. The day was full of food, between big meals and little snacks. As in many cultures, Nepalis always celebrate with masses and masses of food.

         I was lucky enough to not be apart of the goat slaughtering - I'm happy to stick with vegetables. instead. When the rest of the food was finally ready, everyone gathered around in a circle passing around all of the food and drinks. I'm so lucky to be a part of such a great community of teachers here. The school has many problems, but committed, loving teachers is definitely not one of them. Despite the fact that I'm really tired of people asking me how I feel and if I am happy here (I've literally said the Nepali phrase "I feel happy" and "It is delicious" over 50 times a day since being here), I actually am very happy with the teachers. They make me feel at home.
     Luckily enough, no one gave me a hard time for not finishing my food or for not eating the cooked goat innards. As people finished eating, the dancing began. The teachers had not lied in saying that everyone would drink and everyone would dance (though the women only drank very little, as is the culture). The social rules around dancing that exist in the US don't seem to apply here. The men danced freely for everyone to see without any embarrassment, and though some of the dances were quite hilarious, no one poked fun. Everyone danced, and I easily copied the gentle waving of the arms that makes up Nepali dance. Soon everyone was saying I was amazing at Nepali dance and asking where I had learned it.

My Teachers Dancing

We danced for hours, with our group, with other groups of people. I was so tired by the end of it, but loved it all the same. The picnic ended with more food, even more dancing, and a joyful bus ride home with all the teachers singing and beating the drums.

It was quite a joyful experience - definitely not something to be avoided if you are with the right people.

The results: I feel even closer with my fellow teachers and there are likely approximately 50-60 videos of me doing Nepali dance now circulating around the internet.

Me with my uncle (& vice principle), my co-teacher, and my host father

More dancing to come with the Teej festival.

Life Here - An Overview

 For those I haven't been talking to over the phone, I figured I should give a short overview of what my life is really like here - where I am, who I live with, what my daily routine is.

To start, I'm living with a wonderful family made up of two older parents, their daughter-in-law, and her four year old daughter. They are completely hospitable and caring, and I enjoy having someone my age in the family and a young child to play with.

My House

My Room (Complete with a Bug Net, Thankfully)

My school is literally ten feet from my home. It is a fairly big school, with supposedly 900 students, though I've only ever counted around 500 students in the morning (maybe this is just grades 1-8). It is frustrating being at such a large school with such huge class sizes, but there are many benefits to the school as well. The teachers are kind and easy to work with - they are probably my favorite part of the school - and there are a variety of students and levels to work with. Each day, there are eight 40 minutes periods of class, in between which there is lots of sitting and sometimes drinking tea. I've been attending six of the eight periods and may do seven or eight in the coming weeks because there are so many classes I'd love to do.

After the school day is finished, I normally return home and sit outside the house with my family and others. My Ama brings me tea and a snack and I study Nepali while Sochina does her homework. Sometimes in the evenings we will go for walks - which I'll mention in another post - or I'll play "Ring Around the Rosy" and "London Bridges" with Sochina and her friends until I'm too tired to play any more. I've also started cooking with my Bauju, snapping long beans into bowls and mixing cooked spinach with spices.

Evening time comes with the electricity randomly coming off and on. After a big meal of dahl baht, tarkari (vegetables), and masu (meat), my Bauju and I often go upstairs to play cards or other games. We go to bed early (often around nine or ten o'clock) and if I'm lucky there will be a rain and thunder storm in the night to listen to. Life begins in the village around five o'clock, so I try to get up by six as well. Preparing teaching materials and plans can often take me two hours, but luckily the morning is long and relaxing.

As you can probably tell - I'm surrounded by many good things and have easily fallen into a comfortable routine here. My family, teachers, and students are already so important in my life - and I promise my Bauju everyday that when I return to the US I will not forget her, as she predicts. I know very well that that will not be the case.

Learning Curve Times Ten (My First Week)

         The first week in any new environment is hard to explain - it's exhilarating, eye-opening, and exhausting all at once. It's the feeling of taking in and learning a million new things simultaneously in order to stay afloat in a sea of the unfamiliar. My first week here, with my new Nepali family and at my Nepali government school, has been just that, but to a an even greater extent - a learning curve times ten.

           I've been surrounded by wonderful people, enveloped by shy smiles from passing students, comforted by sweet tea and dahl baht - but that doesn't stop things from being overwhelming. I'm still straining with little success to understand my Ama's Nepali, constantly gauging facial expression to judge whether my actions are acceptable, and am always prepared with a smile and a "Kusi laagyo" (I feel happy) or "dherai mitho cha" (It is very delicious) whether I mean it or not. But I would be quick to say that the exhaustion of the steep learning curve is but little to the complete joy and insight even just this first week has brought me.

Afternoons spent sitting with my little four year old sister, Sochina, playing tickling games and exchanging smiles, nights talking with my Bauju (sister-in-law) about the difference between our customs and about our pasts, learning to eat with my hands, and walking along rice fields and back roads with Sochina and Sumitra (Sochina's friend) holding my hands - all these, and many more, make the struggle of the first week worth while.


I'm learning all at once that things here are similar and yet completely completely different. Seeing the students in school confirms that, as does exchanges with my Bauju and fellow teachers. The way life flows, the expectations, the views, and the opportunities here are so drastically different than they were for me growing up in a small town in Port Townsend, Washington. In all of the places I've traveled, I've never felt that the world was so different.

The other day, we walked to the river and one of my favorite teachers, Dilliram, told me about how when he was younger he had come to school from across the river like many students do now. The long wire bridge that stretched from bank to bank was only built eight years ago. So when he was a student, he had started at one side of the river each morning, he told me, and with a basket on his head to keep his books dry, he had swam from one side to the other, departing from a point upstream and ending downstream a bit on the other side. I gapped as he told the story, unable to believe it. The river was fairly big and fast moving. It's hard to conjure up the image of Dilliram as a young student, drenched by river water each morning as he made his hour long trek to school, only to get what I'm sure wasn't too much of an education at the time.

In America, I told him, a bus comes by your house to pick you up.

How vastly different our lives have been. And how vastly different they continue to be. Every day that I see my students I try to really understand what their lives are like and what their lives will continue to be. Every day I am learning, and every day I become more grateful for the opportunities I've been presented with in my life, that I know 99% of the people living here will never have.

I'm so excited and nervous both to be spending the next 7 months here. There will be many difficulties, I know, but I suppose if Dilliram swam across a river each day to get to school, I can handle this relatively small flood of new culture. You just have to get a little wet to get to the other side.