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.