As I have mentioned before, explicitly or implicitly in nearly all of my blog posts, Nepalis do things a bit differently. Very differently, actually - from our traditions in the United States. From how they treat illnesses, how they greet each other, how they eat their food, to how they show respect and hospitality, Nepalis have their own unique style of living. I've already commented on Nepali-style picnics and Nepali-style teaching, but I want to take the time to share a few other comment-worthy tasks that have taken their own shape in Nepali everyday life.
Carrying Things:
First up: Carrying things. The Nepali-style of carrying things is definitely different from our method of transporting large items in the U.S. - though I'm not sure how many people really carry around large amounts of fodder in the U.S. anyways. The Nepali tradition is not to use backpacks or rolling carts - rather, Nepali's utilize a strap called a Naamlo that wraps across the upper part of the head. Using this strap - Nepalis can carry up to 50 kg of materials - bags of rice, a basket full of water bottles filled at the local tap, fodder for local goats, - I've even seen people in Kathmandu carrying large dressers and pieces of plywood via a Naamlo. To me it seems a most uncomfortable way to carry things (Ouch! Neck cramp!). But here in Nepal, most people will refuse to use any other method.
My Ama transporting rice and enough fodder to be considered a tree herself.
Making Bread:
As you might expect, we eat a lot of rice in Nepal. A lot of rice. Everyday, three times a day, if I'm not careful. So when I heard we were making bread for the holiday, naturally I got pretty excited. Actually, we've had this version of fried bread - known as Sel Roti - few times before during other holidays and special religious ceremonies. It's always been a nice treat. For this recent one-day holiday, I was delighted to be apart of not only the eating of this delicious Nepali food, but of the production as well. On a warm quiet afternoon I headed over to one of my co-teacher's houses and was lucky enough to see the entire process.
You can imagine my surprise when I found out that this Nepali "bread," is actually made with rice flour. The one food that I thought was taking a slight veer towards my dearly missed American kana, was actually just another way to introduce more rice into my diet. Thanks, Nepal.
However, the process of making Sel Roti is still just as cool - even if it is made from rice. First, my teacher and her family used the foot-powered machine pictured above to pound the soaked rice grain into flour. Or, if you are like my Ama, you use a heavy metal pole that fits into a long metal cylinder. And then you pound the pole up and down for several hours - not even joking. She was definitely at it for at least two. My arms were sore after just two minutes. Nepali women definitely deserve more credit. My Ama is way stronger than me.
Then, the flour is sifted and mixed by hand with homemade ghee (similar to butter), sugar, and water.
The fire is prepared and oil is heated to cook the roti.
My teacher makes it look easy, but the process of squeezing the correct amount of mix into a perfect circle before your hand gets burnt by the hot oil is actually quite a skill. I didn't attempt it, but she did tell me that it required lots of practice.
And after less than a minute in the oil, the final product, a golden brown circle of slightly sweet fried bread is pulled out and stacked on a plate to be eaten with tea. My teacher stayed crouched near the fire for more than 2 hours, creating this joyful treat for her and her family. Despite the incredible time-consuming and demanding process, Nepalis seem to always look forward to making and eating Sel Roti. It is a reminder for me of how much Nepalis always find the joys in life - making it a priority to see relatives, enjoy good food, and dance.
Cutting Down a Tree:
This is easily the scariest out of the three Nepali-style experiences in this post. Sadly, the school cut down the giant mango tree near our house (cutting down any mango tree should be a sin) so that the money could be used to create a gate for the school (another not so efficient use of funds - right up there with paying $150 for a goddess-of-education statue when the first grade and kindergarden classrooms are in great need of some TLC).
To be honest, I'm not exactly sure of the methods and techniques used to cut down trees in the US, but I'd bet a large sum of money that they are safer than those used in Nepal.
case in point
Nepali method number one: Send four or five guys up the tree without any ropes to climb out on giant branches and start hacking away. Thank god this man did not fall. I was definitely terrified for his life.
Nepali method number two: After hacking off all the branches (and luckily taking down no more than one powerline with them), start sawing at the tree's trunk. When the tree is finally ready to come down evacuate all students, people, and babies from the nearby buildings (well that was our own decision, but it seemed to be the only reasonable choice).
Nepali method number three: Tie a rope to the top of the tree and have a group of strong men pull on it to help the tree fall. Not enough people? Recruit the male class 10 students to do the job. You don't run the danger of parents suing the school if their sons get hit by a tree in Nepal - even if it was the school principle who told them to go help.
Luckily, the tree came down without any injuries (except to the tree itself), though I wouldn't be surprised if there are a significantly higher number of hospital admits claiming to have fallen out of a tree in Nepal in comparison to the US. But then again, maybe not. Nepalis are extremely capable people. Even so - I think once I return to the US, I'll be thrilled to pursue some of my old American-style habits: wearing a seat belt, eating a balenced diet, and commonly using and receiving the phrases "please" and "thank you."
But for now, it's back to Gorkha for some Nepali-style Dhal Bhat, chia, family love, and hospitality. I can't say no to that.
