Bistari, Bistari

Temples in Panauti

Slowly, slowly I am learning! A current volunteer from the N201 group described PST as her childhood years, and her host family as the people who really raised her. As my family helps me learn how to eat with my hands, use a squat toilet, and do my laundry, patiently listens to me stumble through language, and watches me practice agriculture skills they have been employing their whole lives, I really agree with that volunteer’s sentiment. We may be adults, capable of and craving independence, but in Nepal we are still in the infant stage. I will always appreciate my current host family for being so patient and welcoming as I stumble through this growing up stage. This morning, as I ate dhal baat (lentils and rice), my Aama helped me with my nepali pronunciation after I told her that “Pumpkin Tuesday” I would be making compost at our house, when what I was trying to say was “next Tuesday.” She helped me practice the difference to these two (to me) identical sounding words until my pronunciation satisfied her. I told her she was my guru aama and my aama, and she said that I will never forget her when I move to permanent site because she fills these two roles. What she doesn’t know, what I don’t have the language to express, is that I will never forget her for so many more reasons other than that she is guru ama and ama. I barely have the language to express how thankful I am for her in English. This wise, beautiful, kind, welcoming woman who loves me as her own chori (daughter) and has made Panauti feel so quickly like home. Even as I write this now my eyes well up from gratitude. What a sacred feeling.

One week ago we celebrated our halfway point in PST, and tomorrow we find where our permanent site locations will be! We are all eager to know, and my family asks me every day where I will be going next. I will write another update when I find out. For now, join me in anticipation.

PCT has flown by, and yet the little over a month that I have been in Nepal has felt simultaneously like years. Our language is progressing, we are learning more about nepali culture, and becoming acquainted with Peace Corps’ rules and expectations. We have Saturdays off, our phursad (free time). Last Saturday, I went early in the morning with Aama to the Khet (irrigated field) to harvest potatoes. We worked with two other people, first digging up the raised beds, pulling out the potatoes greens, then removing the potatoes from the loosened soil. We took a break for tea, puff (the nepali version of a croissant), and boiled eggs. This was one of the most memorable meals I have had in Nepali thus far, one that I keep looking back on with fondness. Not because the food was that special, but because after working it was such a welcome snack break, consumed together just as the sun was turning from sunrise pinks to daytime heat. We ate together, laughed, then planting rice where there were formally potatoes.

Later that Saturday, Aama took me into town to get my nose pierced! I was nervous, but excited, and the prospect of me having my nose pierced made every woman we passed gleeful. In Nepal almost every woman, except Newari women, get their nose pieced at a young age. It is a sign of beauty here, as far as I know it does not have any cultural or religious connotations other than aesthetic purposes. Sure enough when we came back with my new facial addition, everyone told me how beautiful I was. That night I received a Kurta (traditional shirt for Nepali women that everyone wears daily) from my uncle. It is a really beautiful article clothing, light blue with yellow trim and small white designs. I have found that these small changes have changed people’s perception of me in a positive way. They enforced the idea that I am here to understand Nepali culture, that I am interested in what is traditional for a Nepali woman to do. In America these actions may seem to be cultural appropriation, but Nepali culture really encourages fitting in and sameness. Peace Corps talks about Nepal as a collectivist culture, valuing blending as a society rather than asserting oneself as an individual. While the decision to pierce my nose may seem inconsequential in this blog, its effect on my family has been noticeable to me. It has also brought me even closer with Ama and my hajurama (grandmother) because we all wear the same nose ring. In fact, due to my fat American nose, the nose ring I am wearing is actually my grandmother’s as the one Ama bought me had a stem that was too short. Hajurama told me that whenever I look at my nose I will now remember them, another beautiful and comforting l thought. 

More temples in Panauti!

This past Saturday, I visited another volunteer’s house! A bunch of us made buffalo momos, a nepali dumpling, with his host father and mother. Boy, were they delicious. His family is also from the Newari caste, and are allowed to drink alcohol so we also drank a drink called chang which a fermented drink that I think tastes like Kombucha. Yummy afternoon, his family is so kind, and I ate so many momos. We were coming in on being full, when sure enough his father came home with more buff, and more ingredients to make seemingly hundreds more momos. My stomach happily accommodated though, and after filling myself to capacity, I wandered home for dinner!

PST has been a whirlwind of getting to know our families, learning language and culture, and trying to get to know the people with whom we are sharing this Peace Corps adventure. Thanks to all who have been reading my blog so far. I appreciate your attention and thoughts as I embark on this journey!