When life gives you lemons…make lemonaide!  Lately, the political situation in Nepal has been a bit rocky leading into and following the signing of their new constitution.  India is the only country who is unhappy about the constitution, partly because Nepal won’t allow foreign born people who become Nepali citizens to become Prime Minister.  As a result, India is closing it’s border to us.  This has decreased the availability of petroleum products, cooking gas, and essential basic commodities.  Lemons.

There continues to be a bandh (travel restriction) close to the border of India due to disagreements regarding the constitution.  This means I can’t travel to a large town called Dhangadhi where I usually go every month to use the ATM and go shopping.  Lemons.

I recently got word that a large grant I applied for was approved!  The money will go towards distributing mushroom mycelium to 16 groups of women who will each grow 50 bags of mushrooms in a dark room in their village.  It is an income generation project that will also add to the nutritional value of their diet.  Now that the grant is approved, I need to start purchasing large quantities of materials for the project to distribute to the groups.  Unfortunately, the easiest, best place to find those materials is where?  Dhangadhi!  I’m not sure when I will be able to start traveling there again.  Lemons.

While Nepal has been metaphorically handing me and other Nepalis lemons, the past month it has also been physically handing them chook, which is a local fruit that tastes like a hybrid of a lemon and a grapefruit.  I watched my mom collect baskets full of chook and wondered what she planned to do with it.  Before she used them all up, I decided to use a few of them for a little experiment.  I decided to make lemon jam.  

Lemon jam doesn’t even really exist in the states so I’m not sure why I thought that it would taste good.  I guess I just wanted a challenge. Orange marmalade maybe, but lemons can be tricky.  Looking for guidance, I refered to the source where I always go in times of culinary puzzlement…the “Himalayan Cookbook”.  The “Himalayan Cookbook” is a recipe book that various volunteers have contributed to since the 1960’s.  In it, I found a recipe for “citrus jam”, so I had hope that it would work.  

I was particularly interested in making jam because I had recently finished a 40oz jar of Laura Scudder’s Natural Peanut Butter from the US and had a great empty glass jar that my family has been waiting to repurpose for some time.  I washed out the jar that morning and announced that I would be making chook jam that night.  They all had tried jam that I brought from the states and were on board with the project.  The only thing I needed from them was sugar.

That afternoon, I mentioned to the ladies at the Health Post that I was planning to make chook jam.  Two of them were curious and accepted my invitation to come observe the process.  When I got home, it was game time.  I reminded my younger sister Neera that I wanted to make jam, and she sent my younger brother Yogendra to the store for sugar.  My friends and I peeled the chook and separated the peel.  While peeling and chopping, my friend Jamuna took some of the fruit and mixed it with sugar, salt and chilli.  This is how chook is usually eaten.  It was a strange taste at first, but actually very tasty with a good amplitude of flavor (salty, sweet, spicy, sour).  

By this time my brother had returned with a huge 5kg bag of sugar.  The directions said to boil the peel three times in water, replacing the water every time, so my brother and I did that.  My brother Yogendra is 14 years old and is the most enthusiastic sibling I have when it comes to wierd American experimentation projects, especially when it involves food.  With every project I decide to dedicate time to around the house…from planting vegetables, to cutting bamboo, to making cake, he’s there.  He has also recently been coming to me a lot for help with English, which is cool.

So there we were, boiling and draining lemon peel while my two other friends looked at us a little funny wondering why three times was necessary.  Then we added the peel to the fruit, mixed it together and boiled again.  This time for 40 minutes.  Now, 40 minutes was a long time to wait, so we sat down to eat dinner.  As I sat, eating my food, I stared off into the night and wondered if the jam was really going to be tasty, or not.  As an optomist who likes a challenge, I imagined it being something like really sweet lemonaide in jam form.  

Then it was time to add the sugar.  The recipe said to measure the fruit mixture and add an equal amount of sugar.  By that time, the fruit mixture had amounted to about 6 cups of fruit.  I looked at the fruit, then at the sugar, then at my sister Neera.  Neera is a strong young lady and the oldest sibling.  She has lately been cooking all our meals and is the one I give my rent money to every month because she is educated and good with money.  I was a little anxious of using 6 cups of sugar for a failed experiment, but I knew from past failures around the house that they never get mad about it.  I decided to add about 4 cups of sugar.  I could always add more if that wasnsn’t enough.  

As the jam continued boiling, we had 25 minutes of time to fill so I opened up my laptop and played Despicable Me 2.  Cartoons with lots of slapstick humor and fart jokes are pretty universally understood by people woldwide.  It doesn’t take a degree in English to appreciate that sort of humor, so it was a success. 

Then I returned to the jam.  By this time it was a turning a nice amber color so I took it off the stove and reached for my first taste.  It was not good.  Dang.  Maybe another taste…nope.  So bitter!  My brother tasted it… “Teeto chha!” He said.  “It’s bitter!”  Oh great.  What to do now.  It was the peel that ruined it I think.  That’s something even sugar couldn’t help I was afraid.  My brother was laughing. 

“Chook ko jam…dherai mito chha!” / “Lemon jam…very tasty!” He said.

When my family says stuff like they aren’t trying to convince me that they really like it.  They go right to sarcastically joking about it.  It’s pretty awesome.  

My brother decided that we should bring some to my sister and friends in a little bowl, say that it is suuuuuuper tasty and tell them they have to eat the whole thing.  So we did.  My sister held the bowl in her hand and looked at us trying to judge whether or not our enthusiasm towards watching her eat it had any mischief behind it.  She tasted it.  

Her face immediately changed into discuss and my brother and I laughed and repeated “chook ko jam…dherai mito chha!”  

We later joked that we should sell it in the bazaar.  Five dollars per kilo.  My brother added that people can only taste it after they buy it though.  Good thinking.

I told my sister that I could pay her back for the sugar that I used since it was such a huge failure.  

“No”, she said “It’s ok.  It was funny.  We had some good laughs.”

That was four nights ago.  Attempting to redem myself, last night I announced that I would like to make dinner once a month.  I added that it wouldn’t be like the chook ko jam, it would be something tastier that I know how to cook.  It was quiet for awhile, then they all agreed that that sounded like a fun plan.

The moral of this story is that sometimes life gives you lemons.  And sometimes the only way to deal with it is to try to make lemonaide.  But even if the lemonaide doesn’t come out right, even if you can’t change the way India reacts to the constution, or the problems with Nepali transportation, if you are surrounded by a group of friends who laugh it off, hand you more sugar and say “lets do it again”, then you are truly blessed.  It’s not always about the result, but the journey.

Next time I’m making fried chicken…everyone loves that, right?

My sister holding the jar of chook jam.  We found one person who likes it and doesn't want me to waste it.

After making the jam, my family juiced the lemon/grapefruit "chook" for later use in cooking fish, vegetables, etc.

Street Games

I would like to share my friend's blog before my post today.  He wrote a little about the history of Nepal and the political situation we find ourselves in now.  After one week of waiting in Katmandu, I am being sent back to my home in the Far West as there is a little window of time we can travel before the roads are blocked due to strikes.  There are about 8 volunteers currently in Katmandu who can't return to their sites because of these strikes.

http://beninthepeacecorps.blogspot.com/2015/08/nepali-political-abcs-assemblies-bandhs.html

And now for todays topic:

Katmandu Street Games (i.e. Street Scams)

After living in a Nepali village for almost one year I have become accustomed to being approached by friendly strangers interested in hearing about my life, and wanting to share about theirs.  I am usually happy to share my story with them and we sometimes develop lasting friendships.  

While staying one week in Katmandu, strangers on the street who approached me usually had different intentions, often involving wanting money.  Sometimes it was hard to tell if they just wanted to interact, or if they were expecting something more.  After whitnessing many such instances, I decided to compile a little list of some of these “street games” played by locals.

1. I was approached by two children on the street carrying a sheet of paper in a page protector with a story written in English about how they were locals whose families were affected by the earthquake and needed money for food.  They did look a little dirty, perhaps from sleeping in tents, perhaps from being poor.  I decided to buy them snacks.
2. At Pashupatinath Temple (monkey temple) there was a group of 5 kids that noticed me and started engaging in conversation.  They definitely weren’t wearing nice clothing, but seemed to be educated and were excited by the fact that I spoke Nepali.  One of the girls handed me the head from a figurine that she found on the ground.  She told me which Hindu god it was and handed it to me as a gift.  I sort of had a feeling in the back of my head that at some point they would ask for money, but I didn’t want to leave them just yet.  After taking some pictures I asked where their parents were.  They pointed to an area about 100m away.  I asked if they were sleeping inside after the earthquake, or if they were forced to sleep on the streets.  They said they were living in their house.  As I was getting ready to say goodbye the girl who gave me the Hindu god head gave me a sad look and asked if I could spare some money.  First, I told them they should ask their parents for money.  I knew that they weren’t hurting terribly for money, but that this was more of a hobby for them.  Showing tourists around and asking for small change.  I decided to give them a little change and they ran happily away.  Later, I saw them walking with their parents who were very well dressed.  I smiled to myself.
   
3. A friend of mine was approached by a man on the street who introduced himself as being from India.  He was very enthusiastic when she said she was an American.  They made small talk and the man told her that he works for a magazine that features people’s stories from their travels, news in the local area, etc.  He was interested in interviewing her and featuring her in the magazine.  He had a camera and asked to take her picture.  She informed the gentleman that she was not able to do interviews without first consulting Peace Corps.  He was a little disapointed, but offered to sell her the magazine.  It was 400NPR which equates to about 4 US dollars.  I thought it was interesting to play on a person’s ego and desire to be featured, or “made famous” in order to sell a product.  She might have actually been featured in the magazine had she agreed to be interviewed, but my scepticism has doubts about that.
4. I have been approached by people on the street dressed as Sadhus (Hindu priests), who offer to give Tikka to passerbys.  The priest is always dressed in an orange, priest like costume to help his credibility.  If the person agrees to receiving the Tikka, the priest puts a spot of red on the forhead of the person and offers a small flower.  I have had friends agree to receieving Tikka as its something our Nepali families often gave us at home.  However, the priests on the street expect an offering in exchange for the Tikka.  Similar games are played by religious figures such as Buddhist monks in New York who offer small tokens such as a flower, or other offering in exchange for money.  It is a strange dynamic as the receiver doesn’t want to be rude and refuse the “gift”, but as soon as they accept it they are guilted into giving money.  I have no problem with giving money in exchange for a good, or service, but I want to know before receiving the good, or service what the expectation is of me.  Does that make me cold?  I just want to know what I’m getting into really.
5. The last observation I made was of a middle aged lady who approached me with a young child and an empty baby bottle.  She explained in English that her baby was hungry and she had no more milk.  The child was walking and looked a little old to be breast feeding, but I asked her in Nepali why she couldn’t give him her own milk.  She looked surprised not only from my answer, but the fact that I was speaking in Nepali.  The conversation didn’t go very far after that and she left pretty quickly.

It doesn’t bother me so much that people are asking for support and I hope that this blog doesn’t leave you thinking that I don’t think that these people are in legitimate need of help.  However, the manner in which they ask for it is sometimes facinating and humorsome to me.  I also don’t like the feeling that I’m consistently targeted and profiled as a big money pit.  At what point do conversations with new found friends go from simply wanting to get to know someone and interact, to asking for something?  It’s hard to know.  I still like playing the game though :)

Language

Language is a funny thing.  A fun thing.  When two people who both speak the same two languages come into contact, it’s sometimes a process to determine which language should be primarily spoken.  

Take Nepali and English for example.

I am a native English speaker and also speak Nepali.  I have many Nepali friends whose first language is Nepali, but have also learned English.  Usually, in my village I prefer to speak in Nepali even if the person I am speaking to can speak English.  This helps ME learn Nepali and be effective in my work here in Nepal, but perhaps starves them of the opportunity to learn English.  I often have people say “I’ll teach you Nepali and you can teach me English”, but unfortunately that doesn’t hasn’t happened too much.  There are some people who have shown repeated interest in learning English and I try to make time to correct their English and speak with them specifically in English.  One of my closest friends at my site speaks English very well but I had to tell her not to speak it so much with me because my Nepali was suffering.  She is amazingly patient with my broken Nepali and if I’m lucky she will correct me every once in a while.

Usually, each party tries to respect each other by attempting to speak the other person’s native language.  For example, in Katmandu most people assume that if you don’t look Nepali that you are a foreigner and if they know any English they will speak to you in English.  It often comes as a surprise to them if foregners speak Nepali as it is not a common foreign language to learn.  As a volunteer, it’s always an ego booster to come to Katmandu and speak Nepali with people on the street because they are always impressed, happy and there are sometimes rewards.

For example, it helps with barganing.  Street vendors in Nepal will usually categorize you into one of three groups.  They charge each group differently:

Street Vendor Pricing Groups                                                   Street Vendor Thoughts
1. Disabled Nepali-                                    You need my help, here's some fruit

2. Native local Nepali/Friend-                   You're cool (Cheapest Price)

3. Nepali but not local-                              You're still cool, but I don't know you (Getting more pricey)

4. Foreigner who speaks Nepali well and is living in Nepal-     Ooooo.  You're different.  Where are you from and why on earth are you living here?  (Decent price, sometimes equal to a Nepali)

5. Foreigner who attempts to speak Nepali-    Awww.  That's so cute.  (Discount for your baby Nepali language skills

6. Foreigner who makes no attempt to converse, or speak Nepali-    You are wearing tourist clothes so that means you have money.  Cough it up.  (Most Expensive)

After the initial check of who speaks which language best, it can sometimes become a competition of who can speak their non native tongue better.  The winner is sometimes the most stubborn and the competition goes on as long as both people are speaking in their non native tongue.  The looser is the first one to give up and start speaking their native language as it is more comfortable and less challenging for them.  Sometimes people even encourage you to back down and stop trying to speak your non native tongue.  I’ve had people say “don’t worry, just speak in English.”  Or, “really, it would be easier for me if you would just speak in English”.  

The break down is like this:

        

Situation	Person A (Native Nepali Speaker)	Person B (Native English Speaker)	Language Spoken
Professional Environment such as Hospital, Hotel, Spa or Restaurant where English speaker is a guest	Ok English	No Nepali Ok Nepali	-English is spoken as a form of respect to the client. -If the English speaker initiates Nepali, Nepali is spoken.
	Great English	Ok Nepali	If it is a Nepali man and an English woman, usually English is spoken.  This is out of respect, but as a woman it can feel frustrating because it feels like the man automatically assumes you can’t speak their language, or doesn’t care to see you try.  If it is a Nepali woman speaking to an English woman she will sometimes let the woman speak Nepali and speak back, but she will think it is funny.
	No English	Ok or Great Nepali	Fun!  The English person gets to practice their Nepali skills and the Nepali person is facinated by their attempt

To some degree I would imagine this would be the same in all foreign countries.  Usually when someone is not from the land they are visiting, they are given the opportunity to speak the local language to the degree that they make an effort.  

In less formal environments where there is not a customer/client relationship such as in a village there is less expectations of what language is supposed to be spoken.  If one person wants to practice their non native tongue, they usually have to make it known to all who they encounter that they are making the effort to speak the second language and people usually repond by with a subtle smile, and look the other direction, or will engage with you and have fun doing so.  Usually those who engage with you are brave individuals, or well known friends who have made the deision to try to shape the tongue of the silly foreigner who chose to live in their village.

As a woman living in Nepal, I can say that it’s sometimes stressful to be in environments like bus parks where there are many people, usually men, who are asking if you need help/want a taxi/need a hotel/etc.  Any sort of transit like this worldwide I’m sure is just as nerve racking.  I have girlfriends here who only speak English in these situations in order to not attract attention.  As soon as men know that you speak their native language, suddenly the “game” is on and they have fun trying to see how much Nepali you can speak.  Usually they are curious as to what your motive was to learn “their” language.  I’m not sure how it is for men volunteers here.  

Overall, I have enjoyed the process of learning Nepali and then learning a new native tongue at my site.  It’s been keeping my mind active constantly.  However, I’ve always been a bit of a “lazy talker” even in the states and will often use the shortest way possible of explaining something.  That carries into my Nepali language and I’ll usually use the shortest sentances possible to get my point across as long as it’s effective.  Facial cues, energetic output, and body language go a long way in commuinication!  I do my best with my words though and have definitely come out of my shell in regards to seeing the value in just sitting down with friends, sharing tea, and talking.

On the Earthquake, Being Sent Home, and Returning

Earthquake

Durbar Square, Katmandu...1 week after the quake

When I think back on the moment when everything changed, I’m brought back to my room in Nepal. 

I have been home in the United States one week now and the feeling of being adrift in a sort of alternate reality is starting to fade.  Slowly, my life here now is becoming the reality, and my life in Nepal is becoming more of a memory.  At least now I know I am returning to Nepal.  Knowing that helps me to relax and really enjoy the time I’m given at home.  

When I think back on the moment when everything changed, I’m brought back to my village in Far West Nepal.  I had been at my site for five months and that Saturday morning I was relaxing after bathing and washing my clothes in the river.  As the day approached noon, it started to heat up and I decided to lie in my room for a little bit, read my book, and surrender to the laziness of the warm Saturday afternoon.  As I read my book I noticed a slight rocking movement.  I had recently been thinking about earthquakes because they had mentioned in our first week that Nepal was overdue for a big quake and that we should be prepared should one happen.  There were moments when I would randomly think to myself,

 “What would I do if there was an earthquake right now?  Where would I go?”

But nothing ever happened.  I figured that the movement I was feeling was probably another of my imagined thoughts about earthquakes.  But it didn’t stop.  My second thought was that it was my heart beat subtly moving my body back and forth.  But it didn’t stop.  Luckily for me and the people in the Far West, it never got as big as it did in the eastern part of Nepal.  After looking at some flowers hanging above my bed and seeing them rock every so slightly back and forth I stood up, went outside and asked my Nepali mother 

“I think there was just an earthquake.  Land…moving?  Earthquake?  Earthquake?”

I was saying the Nepali word for earthquake, but my village speaks a mixture of Nepali and Doteli so my mother didn’t know the Nepali word.  She looked at me like I was a little crazy so I figured I was and walked back into my room.

It wasn’t until seeing the facebook posts that people were putting up that I realized it was, in fact an earthquake.  What I didn’t know at the time was how severe the damage was, how internationally known it was, and how my lives in Nepal would be affected even though most people in my village didn’t feel it.  

Peace Corps Washington eventually decided to put us volunteers in Nepal on “administrative hold”.  We were flown to Thailand for a brief transitional conference, then sent home for what ended up being a total of 7 weeks.  I spent one week in Thailand with friends before flying home.

My village grandmother...love her!

The day of the quake my friends and I decided to cook smores

 (Fast forward 1 1/2 months)

My time at home was filled with spending time with friends and family which was a nice silver lining to the tragic events prior.  I arrived home the day before my birthday, and my family gave me a warm welcome that included getting my nails done, going to a movie, and having a pizza dinner.  It was perfect!  Later that week, I got a chance to talk to many of the High School classes where my sister teaches.  It was great to talk about Nepal, show pictures, and expand the minds of the students.  They were very interested in the day to day life in Nepal and I shared all the stories that I thought might interest them including about menstruation rules and using “eastern toilets” with no toilet paper.  Hopefully, I inspired some of them to volunteer as well someday.

A few weeks later, I took a train up to Northern California, visited friends in the bay area and got a chance to see many friends that I have not seen in years.  It was so great to feel that the passing of time had only given us more to talk about, and more adventures to look forward to.  I am so grateful for their hospitality and love.

After coming back to Nepal, I spent one week in Katmandu before heading back to my permanent site.  After the 25 hour flight the jet lag stared to fade to fade.  I woke up every morning to the sound of light rain, the feel of moisture in the warm air, and the sight of low hanging clouds.  

There are 4 different Peace Corps groups represented here now and I got to meet some of the new volunteers that had arrived last March.  They are a tight knit group after being together through the earthquake in Katmandu.  At the time of the earthquake they were all in Katmandu and luckily none of them were injured, at least not physically.  After spending 6 weeks at home, 90% of their group returned to serve in Nepal.  I am inspired by their enthusiasm, resilience and dedication.  

Being back at site is great.  Everyone I met wanted to know:  a) When did I get back? b) Did I make it toAmerica? c) How was my family?  Not being completely fluent in Nepali and Doteli, I’m thankful for moments like these when I can reasonably predict what people are going to ask.  It’s usually a question someone else has recently asked, so I’m prepared to answer.  It was also sweet how many of them asked how my family was.  They really wanted to know who I got to see and how everyone was.  

Rice Seedlings!

My Nepali mom and brother...farming is hard work

I was invited to plant rice with my family a little over a week ago.  It was a great experience that began with morning puja (getting red tikka on my forehead) and lighting incense in the field.  Then me and 8 other women rolled up our pants, took off our shoes and jumped into the thigh deep mud.  For the next 8 hours, with only a 1 hour break for lunch I plopped rice seedlings into the ground alongside my family.  The boys and men ploughed the field, removed large rocks, made berms to hold in the water, then flooded the field with river water.  After it was flooded, the women line up and walk backwards as they plop the seedlings into the mud.  It’s back breaking work and I didn’t think I would be as sore as I was afterwards.  It took about a week to recover.  I’m not sure how my mom does it almost every day for about a month.  Last Saturday I saw her sprawled out on the bench at our house and she told me “Today I’m going to be lazy”.  I smiled and said “I think you deserve it”.

Ready, Set, GLOW!

Last week I had the pleasure of attending Camp GLOW (Girls Leading Our World).  Camp GLOW is done in many Peace Corps countries worldwide and we are just starting to introduce the idea to Nepal.  The camp is typically 5-7 days and each day has a different theme.  Some themes include empowerment, health, gender equality, development, sexual education, and leadership.  It was organized by a group of 5 volunteers from Dang who hired educators from a women’s rehabilitation center (WOREC).  The week consisted of different activities focusing on the day’s theme.  Both the Peace Corps volunteers and women from the WOREC group did activities and presentations.

I was lucky enough to go as a 3TOT participant which meant that I got to attend, learn, and help out with the intention of later doing this camp in my district.  I believe girls in the Far West where I live would particularly benefit from the camp beause of the added challenes they face with menstruation rules.  It is a practice that is fairly unique to the Far West to have young women live in isolation for the 7 days during their menstruation.  I wrote about this in a previous blog and have experienced it to a lesser degree myself at site.

Although I love living at my site with my family, being at the camp for a week reminded me of going to Girl Scout camp when I was little.  How lucky I was to spend a week doing crafts, dancing, playing games and watching movies.  Girls in Nepal don’t get opportunities like this often.  The idea of “camp” is foreign to Nepali’s who rarely travel outside their village.  All the kids under 20 in my family usually only leave the village to visit relatives, or go to the doctor.  Fun outings are a rare opportunity as there is so much work to be done around the farm tending to the animals, working in the fields, and cooking food.  It was great to see them meeting new friends, having fun and learning some really important information.

Some of the topics involved psychosocial health, while others were more informative.  I was surprised to hear that during the anatomy class many of the girls were aware of the terms being taught.  Some of the information was new to them, but they knew many of the basics.  However, it became apparent that the sexual health eduation most Nepali’s receive was somewhat lacking in other atreas.  During the sexually transmitted disease presentation one of the Nepali lady presenters shared a story about how when she was younger her sex ed teacher demonstrated how to use a condom by putting it on her finger.  Feeling confident with her knowledge about how to avoid getting pregnant, she proceded accordingly with her husband.  Much to her suprise, she became pregnant.  She went to the doctor and asked how it was possible that she got pregnant as she was using condoms.  The doctor asked how she was using it and she responded that she was putting it on her finger like she was shown in class.  It’s stories like this that make me realize how important it is to be thorough when doing trainings.

Although I was there mostly to help behind the scenes and learn, I volunteered to lead small energizer activities and teach yoga class in the mornings.  Every morning (except one day that I was sick) I lead a class of 5-10 girls and women in yoga.  Many of the girls knew what yoga was, but they didn’t know how to practice it.  It was fun to teach the class because if I didn’t know exactly how to describe what I was doing in Nepali, I could always say “do it like this!”  I was touched by the enthusiasm for the class.  One dedicated student was around 60 years old.  I was afraid that the class might be too athletic for her, but after the class she explained that yes, her body hurt a little, but it was a good kind of hurt.  The day I was sick she asked my friend why there was no class and said that she didn’t feel so good that day because she didn’t get to do yoga in the morning.  The next day I taught class again and she was all smiles.

One interesting observation that my friends had of the group was the lack of individual thinking among the girls.  In school, there is very little creative thinking, self expression, and critical thinking.  Most of the Nepali and English classes involve reciting from books and memorizing.  For example, my 14 year old brother can read pretty fast in English;  but after he reads a paragraph and I ask him if he understood what he read, he doesn’t know.  He also isn’t able to form his own sentances in English.  Independent, creative thinking is not encouraged and it was evident in some of the art projects.  One project we did involved making a “dream board” in which the girls cut out pictures in magazines of all the things they wanted to see, and have in their life.  My friend did a dream board for herself as a demonstration.  It included eating healthy food, visiting different countries, and growing up to be an old, spunky lady.  Some of the girls were original in their dreams, but many followed the demonstration board almost exactly.  Perhaps the girls didn’t understand the project very well, but in general it seemed hard for them to think independently of eachother.  Despite this, one activity that did bring out the girls individuality was the papermache mask making activity.  My friend was estatic that each mask looked different and unique.  

On the last day of camp we had a bonfire and roasted marshmallows.  The girls, chaperones, and staff all enjoyed the marshmallows that we sandwiched between two cookies as we couldn’t find chocolate bars or grahm crackers.  I then experimented with an activity that was similar to one I have taught in the states during a yoga class.  During the class we did lots of shaking, chanting mantras, and dancing.  I named the class “Kali” yoga after the Hindu goddess of destruction and change.  After developing a strong, communal energy I had the girls go into the circle one at a time and shout to the universe something they wanted to see manifest in their life.  Some of the demands were career related…one wanted to be a doctor, another a policewoman.  While others were more life goal based…wanting to learn English, or wanting to go to America.  After the America comment I told them that Nepal is great too!  I also told the girls to remember that their body and their life belongs to them.  Although there may be rules in life that they must follow, that doesn’t change who they are.  It is their right to make their own choices and be who they want to be.  I had the conversation translated into Nepali by a friend.  After reading my little speech the girls applauded.  

Since coming to Nepal, I have not had a chance to work much with Nepali youth.  The older I get, the less I seem to feel I can relate to them.  However, after this GLOW camp I realized how easy it was, and how meaningful it can be.  I will always look back on it with a smile and hopefully someday, with the help of other PC volunteers, make one of our own.

Christine leading a human knot energizer

Girls drawing pictures of what they like about themselves during a self confidence activity

The girls weren't the only empowered ones during the camp!  This is Peace Corps Volunteer Shayne's empowered drawing of himself.

Lot of giggles during the condom/sex education talk

The best way to wake up a group of Nepali's?  Dancing!

Lymbo!  Oh ya...we went there

Maria being awesome with her didi (older sister) during the dance party

Shayne and Ben being ballers...of yarn for friendship bracelets of course!

Shayne demonstrating how to cook the perfect mallow

Maria's mask melody

Empowered girls

Fearless Peace Corps Leaders

Family Portraits

I promised my family in America pictures of my family here in Nepal, so here they are!  I live with my mother and father, my sister who is 21, my three younger brothers ages 19, 16, and 13, and my grandparents.

I love my family and we all get along well.

My sister Neera is inspiring and works for a local NGO in the HIV/AIDS sector.  We hang out when she is home but she is often doing her job traveling to other villages and distributing prescriptions for medications to patients.

My older brother Ganesh likes to joke with me and I can never seem to get a straight answer from him.  I usually have to double check the information he gives me as I assume it's probably not true.  It keeps me on my toes though and makes me laugh :)  When not going to computer technician classes he helps a lot around the house herding the animals, and runs the family store when my father is gone.

My middle brother Yogendra (tall Yogendra) is a student at a local government school.  He's a volleyball superstar and loves riding my new bike.  He's taking his national exam right now that all students his age take.

My youngest brother Yogendra (small Yogendra) is actually a cousin but lives at our house because he's going to a school nearby.  I've recently been helping him learn English and he is motivated to do well on his national exam.  He often translates for me into Nepali things that my mom says in the local language.  He also rides my bike but is a little too short for it.  I like teaching him how to ride, but the bike is in the shop now because of a fall it took when he was riding.  No worries though...well worth it!

My mom runs the household and has her day filled from sunrise to sunset collecting food for our many animals, gardening, and cooking.  She is a strong woman and like Ganesh has a fun sense of humor.

My father owns a store in the town and is a joker as well.  Some of the jokes I understand, some I don't but that's ok.  I smile and laugh like I know what he's saying usually.  One day he surprised me while I was walking up to the house one night.  He threw up his arms and I was super scared because I didn't see him there.  It was pretty funny.

My grandfather (dad's dad) is awesome.  He's super sweet and always wants to know what I'm doing with my day, where I went, and lets me know about events in town.  Every morning he prays and bathes as a ritual before eating his rice.  He is calm and I enjoy his presence.

My grandmother is pretty traditional.  She makes sure that my mom, sister and I follow the menstruation rules.  She also works around the house in the garden when she is home and cooks breakfast.  On days when she cooks I usually eat a little later because things take a little longer, but it's always very tasty and worth the wait.

They all have a great sense of humor and remind me not to take life too seriously.  I really appreciate their playfulness and am lucky for such a chill, fun family!

Our family in front of our house.
Back row from the left: Me, Father, Mother, Grandmother, Grandfather.
Second row from the left:  Older brother Ganesh, Middle brother Yogendra, Sister Neera, Youngest brother Yogendra

My family in the field in front of the house

We love our cauliflower!

So what is it I do over here?

I have been at my permanent site now three months.  One of those months I was away from site to attend Peace Corps training in Pokhara.  We learned about mushroom farming, building plastic houses, drip irrigation, grafting, preserving nutrients in food, and all kinds of great things.  Although much of my first three months have been getting to know the community and attending meetings, I have started some small projects.  The following pictures are of things that I have been doing at my site so far...

Building my first smokeless cookstove at my house

A teacher at a boarding school doing a hand washing training after I installed the "tippy tap" hand washing machine

My sister and brother shoveling our compost pit.  Using shovels here is a two man job :)

Checking the bee population at a house nearby.  There is lots of beekeeping in my area.

Installing drip irrigation at a farm near the government school

An agriculture teacher at the school helping with the installation

Making bags of straw and mushroom spawn at my house.  We had a great colony grow and sold the mushrooms at my father's store in town!

Baby weighing at a mother's group meeting

No mother's group is complete without dancing!

It's that time of the month again...

Mahinawaari

That’s what it’s called here.  Due to the many inconveniences surrounding menstruation in Nepal, I am strongly tempted to go on “vacation” for the four days a month that my activities are restricted.  It’s during this time that I am reminded of Peace Corps 10th Core Expectation.  

“ Represent responsibly the people, cultures, values and traditions of your host country and community to people in the United States both during and following your service. 

Female volunteers in Nepal have experienced mahinawaari restrictions to various degrees.  The first house I lived in did not require me to follow any rules regarding menstruation around the house.  The only rule that I followed was not visiting temples during my period.  With four menstruating females in our family, it made it difficult to schedule things like family trips to temples as we needed to postpone them when Aunt Flow was in town.

Before moving to the Far West region of Nepal, I was aware that there were more restrictions and rules here surrounding menstruation.  After arriving at my site, the list of rules started growing.  Here is what I have gathered so far:

1. Don’t drink cow milk
2. Don’t touch cows
3. Don’t visit temples or lakes
4. Eat in my room.  My sister sometimes joins me in my room while I eat to keep me company, but does not eat with me.
5. When being served food I must place my plate on the ground and back away while they fill the plate.  During this practice I fight back feelings of being fed like an animal.
6. Do not touch or go near the water that the family uses.  I must only use water from the designated bucket that they fill for me.
7. Wash my dishes/clothes/etc. in a separate location from the family
8. Bathe on the 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th day
9. Do not attend weddings
10. Don’t touch babies
11. Throw out all water on the 4th AND 7th day… grrr
12. Clean all clothes and bedding on the 7th day

    At first, it was hard for me to learn these new rules.  I would get frustrated because I did not see any logical reason for these practices.  Even the rules that had some sanitary reasoning behind them went a little over the top.  For example, the rule about throwing out the water from my filter and cleaning it made sense for me to do every month.  However, to do the same thing three days later seemed to be a waste of clean water.  To avoid throwing it out, I would chug a whole Nalgeen of water right before my sister took the filter and dumped the rest.  

    I later learned that these practices are Hindu culture and not Nepali culture.  Nepali people who are not Hindu don’t follow the same rules.  However, around 90% of the people in my area are Hindu and follow the mahinawaari rules.  Times are changing though and the younger generation follows a less severe, more sanitary set of rules.  For example, my mother still follows the older generation practice (called chowpaadi) of living in the a small shed outside the house during her menstruation.  My family built a wooden enclosure for her that is about 7” by 5” and she eats and sleeps there.  The newer generation is now being encouraged to stay in their room inside the house instead of in the animal shed.  This is for sanitary reasons.  My 21 year old sister and I follow the newer generation set of rules.  

    I had a heart to heart conversation with my sister one day during my last period after being frustrated about having to throw out my water.  I asked her how she felt about having to follow these rules.  I didn’t know if it was a frustrating for her as it was for me.  She said that yes, it was frustrating for her too, but that times are slowly changing.  Because it is connected to her religion, she is torn between wanting to show her devotion, and wanting equal rights between men and women.  During my menstrual period, she was given the task of making sure that I abided by the rules.  She was proud of her religion and fimrly abided by the restrictions.  She was given the rules by her mother, and her mother was given the rules from her mother.  I did not want her to feel bad about sharing her culture with me and in the end, I felt lucky to have the opportunity to understand and empathize with her way of life in a way that very few outsiders ever could.  

My sister is 21 years old and having a job with an NGO that focuses on treating people with HIV and AIDS, I respect her as a fairly independent, empowered Nepali youth.  Her choice to follow her religious practice was something that gave her identity and purpose.  I began to see that even within the context of Hindu culture, it was possible for a girl to develop into a confident, independent young woman.  It is my purpose to help other Nepali girls grow to not be ashamed of the natural process that their bodies go through every month, and to be able to have a sense of empowerment and self love while still staying true to their culture. 

    Next week I am looking forward to attending a camp called camp GLOW.  It stands for Girls Leading Our World.  It's a one week camp that focuses on girl's empowerment.  Topics addressed include health, self esteem, gender equality, volunteerism, aspirations, and leadership.  I hope to learn from the experience and someday be able to do the camp in the Far West Region where I live.  With such a large youth population where I live I think it's important to give them guidance and help them reach their potential.  I never want girls to think that because of their bodies natural processes that they are less capable of achieving their dreams.  During International Women's Day I did a short speech for a large crowd of women about how I believe all women deserve the same education, respect, and access to resources as men.  All women have a voice and a say in what path they want to walk in life.  Men and women together must work to achieve this goal and although I might not be around to see the changes, I have hope that things are moving in the right direction.  

My sister Neera and I during Holi

International Women's Day peaceful rally

A sign reading "We are all farmers of Alital!" signed by the women at International Women's Day