Baby, It's Cold Outside

         Surprisingly, most everything you could ever need is available in Nepal, if you look hard enough for it. The other ETAs and I have gone on some interesting adventures, coming back with many interesting purchases - kidney beans to use as markers for Bingo, clothing pins to hang up student work, overpriced packets of Uno and Jenga... we even found Reeses and Hershey's Kisses in Pokhara.

      The few things I can't find - mostly specific sweets that I find myself craving (smarties, york mints, hot chocolate) - I've received in packages from a certain wonderful mother of mine. But I've been pleasantly surprised at what is available in this country that is so different from my own. After some very thorough searches, I've had success in finding things like whiteboards, specific American breakfast items, good dark chocolate, and even baking powder.

My Oh-So-Wonderful American Breakfast Food in Nepal

              But, I think I may have finally reached my limits. My luck has finally been stretched to its breaking point... because I'm pretty sure what I need now is something nowhere to be found in Nepal, even if I searched it from top to bottom. You see, because what I have found myself needing this past week or so is somewhat of a strange item. Strange indeed. You see, I have found myself in great need of a....... snorkel.
Let me explain.

When the earth gets half way around the sun and is suddenly tilting away from its rays on my side of the equator, the days get quite short... which means a lot of dark, chilly fog and a very limited amount of gham (sunshine) to burn it off. This makes it cold, and also very difficult to dry laundry, shower, or eat oranges - because for some reason, in Nepal, it's only socially acceptable to eat oranges in the sun.

This doesn't explain why I might need a snorkel? Well, let me rephrase. With all the fog and the sun taking a long vacation from Gorkha, the Nepali "chiso" of winter has finally arrived.
 Just in time for Christmas: "baby, it's cold outside."

.... And inside. And in the tiled bathroom, and in the school classrooms, and in the office. It's cold, in the morning, at night. When I open my door, when I shut my door.  It's cold upstairs and downstairs. On the carpet and on the concrete. It's cold here, it's cold there, It's cold everywhere!

       Which leads me to my next point. There are no heaters in rural Nepal. or hot water to shower with. Or hair dryers. Am I making you cold just thinking about it? I'm currently wearing four layers on top, two layers of pants, a fleece hat, and wool socks while writing this.

          As soon as the temperature was a little less than 70 degrees outside, the Nepali's started complaining about the cold. But now it's in the 30's and 40's at night - so 3 months later, the Nepalis are finally right. The "chiso" has arrived.

Still confused as to why I need a snorkel? Understandable.

        You see, the only place I've found to be suitable for survival of these next few months, (despite the fact that I'm still expected to attend school and act like a regular human being) is the heavenly spot where, curled up, I am completely buried underneath two layers of heavy blankets in my bed. This, though cozy, is completely debilitating, in terms of getting anything done.

The result? I sleep a lot. Like a lot a lot. My thought train goes from "oh... I'll do some lesson planning tonight".... to "oh... it's a little cold in here, maybe I should grab a jacket"... to "actually, you know, those blanket wrapped around me would be a lot warmer".... to "hmm... It's kind of hard to write, and I'm letting the cold air in, better make sure I'm all wrapped up".... and then, somehow, I find that I've disappeared under my blankets into a horizontal position. And it's only 8 pm. "It's okay to go to bed at 8 pm right?".... "well, there's no getting out of these blankets now.. so I guess it's fine... I'll just get up early."

Well, you can guess what that looks like in the morning. Trying to pull me out of warm blankets, no matter how many consecutive hours I've already been in them, is like trying to hide chocolate from my bahini, Sachina - flat out near impossible.

But the good news is, Nepal has made me an inventor. Because the end goal is that I could be both productive and warm at the same time - which is what they invented snuggies for. Someone send me a snuggy suitable for Nepali winters (aka five snuggies that I can wear at one time). I've decided that my only practical solution, besides asking my mom to send me a space heater in the mail (also not so practical) is to lay the blankets over me like a tent and simply invest in a snorkel to take care of my face's inconvenient need for oxygen. Then I could type on my computer without loosing fingers in the process (to frostbite, of course), I could grade my student's homework, even read a book! Who knew the one thing I would need to complete my life here in Nepal would be something not readily available in landlocked, chilly country where every swim-able body of water is likely polluted anyways. They really should have put it on the packing list anyways.

            Since I probably won't be locating a snorkel anytime soon, here's to doing as the Nepalis do: wearing several layers of clothing at all times (to the point where I'm almost unrecognizable), only mustering up the courage to shower every seven days (opps, did I say that out loud?), and getting lots and lots of sleep.

And then, we do as the Americans do... run to any hotel with hot water as fast and as often as we can!

To all those back home, may you stay warm and healthy during this holiday season - but mostly warm.

Happy Holidays!