Wash Day – Everyday - even if the sun "don’t shine"

OK, check it out my blue wash bucket and a 2 liter empty water bottle for a plunger, and a packet of washing soap.

Side of My Bathroom Scene

Drawing water from the faucet is the only easy part. All the rest is back breaking. Add washing soap, stir with plunger, make sure your sleeves are pulled up and you’ve taken off your gloves. Needless to say, bare feet and cuffs rolled up is de reigeur.
Continue to fill with water, ice cold usually, then add 3 medium items, or 5 small, or one large. Let soak overnight, don’t forget to plunge occasionally. Pray for sun tomorrow. Next morning, or next day or whenever time allows, rinse, rinse, rinse. This means tilting the bucket towards the floor and in the direction of the drain. I have devised a system where I use my water bottle plunger to rest the bucket not having to hold the bucket as it drains and break my bleepin back.
Now for the really fun part: wring, wring, wring. Finally shake and hang over something - anything where the sun will shine. Don't forget to turn during the day, and bring in before sundown.

I was able to purchase washing soap in very small packets; like the size of a zip lock bag. It helps because wearing clothes for several days, WHICH I DO, necessitates a good washing.

No one has washing machines; not even the early types our mothers were familiar with. I have never seen a washboard, just clothes, buckets, rocks and drying space.The entire country often appears as one big clothes line.

 Side of the Road Scene

Side of the River Scene

Side of a House Scene

Monastery Rooftop Scene

( young monk just returned from the river with heavy, wet, clean robes))


In Nepal there is a modest amount of electricity in the home and more often no running water thus the public tap. Washing is done in plain view and the river is a second to the street faucet. I have seen women and men washing in the river at the height of the afternoon sun, removing clothes from under and over creating a modicum of privacy while cleaning their bodies.

Daily Life Scene

Nobody Loves You When You're Down and Out

OK OK that's a bit melodramatic, but jeeze this is my second cold in one month and it's two too many. Thank god a package came today with cold medicine in it from home. I had used up the first pack for the first cold. Maybe the no heat, no hot water, being around many kids with runny noses etc. has helped to contribute to the present situation. But tonight after another rotten day, except when teaching and the adrenalin kicks in, I took out the big guns - CIPRO. My doctor was great when I asked her for some meds to take traveling with me. She was born in a third world country, so no explanation was necessary for her.

On top of the cold business, the sun did not shine today and there was fog all morning. However my Shedra class had their first test from me and the results were pleasing. I didn't calculate the average, (too dependent on gradebook software), but the approximate average was 94; only one failure and I will have to talk to him to see what's up.

I also asked them to answer one essay on what they would like future volunteer teachers to teach them. I got some terrific responses. They are interested in everything: vocabulary, writing, speaking, speech giving, poetry writing, psychology, translating, computers, and also a "deeper relationship" with a volunteer teacher.

They're one heck of a group of fine young men.

Ages in the Shedra class range from 19-23. They are all from the district of Mustang; a Himalayan Kingdom close to the Tibetan border. Traveling home for them involves an arduous trek. Occasionally a parent going through to spend the winter in Kathmandu or nearby stops in to see them.

But they are not alone, they are with their family of brothers. These boys relate across all ages far more compassionately than many of us could imagine. Yes, there is fooling and teasing - but it never goes too far. Yes, there is smacking and smacking back - but it never seems to end in tears.
Life moves on at a comfortable pace and there is always someone with whom to play or to talk. Smiles are a constant.

A Perfect 10, Except for the Crash Scene

Sarangkot offers a view of the Himalayan range that is "almost a religious experience", thus saith Lonely Planet Nepal. What you get is the panoramic glory of the Himalayan peaks, starting with Dhaulagiri (8167m), to Machhapuchhare (6997m), ending with Annapurna II (7937m).

 

Lucca and I started out fixing to get a bus to the bus park, take a second bus up Sarangkot and then walk from the parking lot to the top. We started a little late; no buses going by.  We hailed a taxi rather then walk all the way into Harichowk. We sidled in next to a mother with babe.
The driver agreed to take us to the bus park for a fixed sum.  At the bus park some shop ladies informed him of something and he told us that the bus was no longer running. We negotiated for a taxi ride, which we later renegotiated into an hour's wait and return fare; 2500 NR about $35.00.

The road up the mountain is a 20 minute continuous wind with blind corners; no problem. Actually this one only has a short white structure in the way; why that's an entirely clear view!

View from Inside the Taxi

 
The Nepali method of driving lets everyone know that something is coming around the corner as the moving vehicles continue to honk their horns, not slow down and certainly not worry about the driver coming from the other direction. It's the ultimate 'CHICKEN DRIVE'.

(Note: all the pictures of the roadway are on the way down; this is to give the Valium a chance to kick in)
 

The road changes from a 'roadway' to a "rockway" about halfway up. At one point our driver pulled over, got out and looked down the ravine. I thought, "Gee, he must have lost a hub cap." He then beckoned us out of the car to look down the mountain to view the crash scene. Last month a bus went over the side and since then "no more buses." Not a Kodak moment, but a small prayerful one for those 15 who perished in the accident.

Discharged from the taxi a 10 minute walk brings you to this:

Returning and re-ascending, the second path is strewn with shops, eateries and sleeping places.

Time for some food and a restful view.

I sat right at that round table to the left. The drop behind the tables was stunning and included lemon trees. While waiting for my order to be taken I noticed the dishwasher woman.

I ordered scrambled eggs. It was then that the girl who took my order brought a frying pan out to the dishwasher.

Yep, cold water, maybe some soap and a pair of strong utilitarian hands.

A few neighbors walked through the kitchen.

I decided to live dangerously and eat the eggs; they were good. Returning down the walkway everyday life continued, including the vendors hoping for a sale.

On the return trip down the mountain we passed the ledge from which the paragliders took off. Quite a view.

Quite a day.

Three Squares a Day

Cup Serves as Plate for Bread
(there is a cup under that piece of bread)

Breakfast consists of round, unleavened barley bread; looks a little like a primitive pita. This is served with either a small helping of lentils, or kidney beans, or peanut butter; very occasionally red jam – the one I love to hate. It's a mixed fruit jam and evidently my taste buds are not properly developed to enjoy this conglomeration. Hot butter tea, little black tea, butter and a salt is available and also sugar tea, little black tea, milk and way too much sugar. 'Course you could opt out for just a cup of hot water which goes a long way on a freezing cold morning.

Dal Baht

Lunch is always dal baht; rice with a watery lentil soup to pour over the rice. The lentil mixture changes, color, consistency, and taste daily. Out of respect, the staff table is served first. However we do not begin eating until all the student bowls are served and prayers have been said. This usually translates into a dish of cold rice, and a moderately warm lentil mixture. This is my greatest challenge; ok one of my challenges. When I first arrived and it was not so cold the food stayed a little warmer, but now…

There is usually a vegetable mixture with the rice, most often cauliflower and very firm; perhaps some onions, occasionally potatoes, and rarely carrots. A small orange, comparable to our tangelo or a small banana is available 90% of the time; both are quite good.

Dinner is the meal I love to miss. It is always Tibetan noodle soup; rather wide homemade barley noodles in a saucy mixture, some unrecognizable or some bitter green vegetables floating around. It is served steaming hot and remains so. Once or twice a week white steamed dumplings accompany the meal. In all fairness I must say that Lucca loves this meal. In the beginning I just ate it, then I was reduced to eating some of the noodles, now every day I hope that I am not hungry at dinner.

But thankfully for growing boys there are always seconds.

Puzzle Boy

This little one found my room. Actually it wasn't me he wanted, it was my puzzles. (thanks Renee) I usually bring some to mealtime as there is about 15 minutes before and 15 minutes after when we can have free play. His name is Kunga, well about half of them are named Kunga, I forget his second name. I call him puzzle boy. As you can see here I served him peanuts. The children have a snack every day at 3:00. Hot tea with milk and sugar, or hot water if there is no tea, and some kind of flaked cereal that they put in the hot liquid to make a mush which they then eat with their fingers.

I don't teach his class, level 1 perhaps, but he is very bright and a self-starter. Together we created his own puzzle. I had brought with me some postcards/greeting cards, so we took a ruler and lined the back of the picture with cutting lines. Then I showed him my wavy scissors. He ended up with a 19 piece puzzle, an artistic rendition from a Greenwich Village post card; he worked it like a pro.

Proud Puzzle Maker and Owner of His Own Puzzle

Playing Old Maid in Ms. Foster's Room

Guess who has the Old Maid

Maoists

Yesterday was a half day off and our full day off there was going to be a bandh. So we really wanted to get out of here. You know, a day off is a day off; a half day off is a half day off. So off we went to Mandipul, 6 volunteers and one monk all to see Avatar. Not my choice but I love to people watch so I was game. We took a bus and then walked a while through Old Town; finally arrived at the cinema.

Found out that the movie was dubbed in Hindi; not our style, so we declined and our group split up.

Lucca and I headed off, thinking of the Gurkha museum. But Lucca wanted to get her hair cut, so we did that. It took an hour; cut dirty hair, wash with head massage then dry. Totally different style of cutting; mostly letting hair lay against the head and trim. Turned out fine. Total cost: 2 NR, about 3 bucks and no tip.

I stopped at shop selling fabric; quilters always stash. Found some rich reds and turquoise shades of blue.

Later as we were on the street looking at DVD's I heard a "Ms. Foster" ring out. It was one of the monks who came up to say hello and he asked if I knew of such and such a store which had an excellent selection of DVDs and CDs. He led us to it; I bought 5 DVDs, average cost, $1.10. I was able to purchase two foreign films; one Iranian and one Mongolian, with subtitles. 'Course these are all pirated through China.

Before he left I asked him if he knew of a restaurant in town that served western food. He walked me out to the street up half a block and pointed out a restaurant on the 3^rd floor call "Almond". Thanks, I responded and returned to the video store.

Later Lucca and I went to Almond. It has a nice view of the town square, but the air in the room was definitely 'smokey', not from smoking but from the pollution rising from the street below. We played it safe and each ordered a cheese pizza. I also ordered a green salad. Conspicuously missing any greens it was good to get some raw vegetables, a commodity not available at the monastery. Those five servings of fruits/vegetables are simply impossible to fulfill. Yes, my body does notice the difference.

While eating next to a window there appeared to be a commotion outside round the square. A huge truck full of Maoist police was going by totally out fitted in riot gear. Mm... A few minutes later a group of marchers passed along with lit torches chanting something. Even the wait staff went to the windows to look. I asked the waiter 'what's happening'? He confirmed that they were the Maoists, evidently making a show of arms to communicate to the populace that tomorrow everything would be closed for the bandh, or else shop-keepers, street vendors, restaurateurs, taxi cab drivers, kids trying to go to school would answer to them. Of course the poor rural farmers are not affected; so again that communist attitude that anyone owning anything, businesses, cars, or products is the enemy. I did not take my camera to the window for this one; traveler survivor skills kicked in.

The Best Christmas Present Ever

Yep, you heard it here first: the ever warm, woodsy scented blazing flame of an open fire. As we scouted places in which to have our Christmas dinner, they only made it to the list if they had that fire. The Moondance restaurant fit the bill perfectly. Alas no turkey dinner, we settled for a thin crust pizza that was a "ten".

While we were eating, Christmas Carols were playing, not Bing or anyone else well known, and a small tree lit up the darkness. (The interior of all shops and restaurants are unaccountably dim; never enough power.)

While walking and browsing and stopping for a coffee, we went into a shop named Pearl Arts. There we met Ghulam Rasool, originally of Kashmir, and his wife. I purchased a shawl and his wife demonstrated to me how she had embroidered it by hand. She used a hooking tool to pull the embroidery thread through the wool.

Ghulam invited us for tea, a common way for a shopkeeper to treat a guest/shopper and we sat down. His son, still in high school went to make the tea, and brought back a lovely black tea with cardamom and cinnamon.
Ghulam is a rug maker, he showed us some of his work and also shared the preliminaries. First he finds a pattern he likes, sometimes from Iran, and gets a photograph. He then graphs it and creates a set of carpet language directions. It is a complex process resulting in a beautiful product; somewhat expensive but surely a worthy work of art. The pattern in the picture is for a 4x6 foot rug, 18x18 knots per sq. inch. (that is if I understood him correctly)

 

Lucca and the Rasool Family

Lakeside got busier and busier as the evening wore on; many cars, motorbikes, street vendors, and pedestrians falling off the sidewalk. It did feel a little like the hustle and bustle of a holiday. OK not really. Just busy. 

 The shops seem endless and many are same-same. But occasionally one looks especially enticing.

Felt Items from Yak Wool

So now I end with the beginning. Upon arriving at Lakeside we ate our 1st western food of the day. I had scrambled eggs and steak. The eggs were great, so was the toast and butter; we shall not discuss the steak.