Wednesday, June 8, 2016

Mitho mitho ra mitho... Hola


With each entry I write, I have been trying to figure out a way to categorize my experience. I hope that with this blog I can create a bridge between Nepal and America, my two homes, and provide a glimpse into the rich and different culture that I have only just begun to explore. With this entry, I hope to discuss a few of the celebrations I have experienced during my short time here. As I adjust to the diet of daal bhaat, a rice and lentil dish eaten twice a day here, the celebrations are largely marked in my mind by food hence the title of this post which means “tasty, tasty, and tasty…maybe.”

A few weeks ago, I had the chance to go to my first Nepali wedding! The wedding was at my Language and Cultural Facilitator’s host family’s house, and my LCF invited our class to join her. It was a really interesting experience, especially having my LCF there to be able to explain some of the cultural values behind the affair, and how these traditions affect her experience a young woman in Nepal. My language teacher, Oja, is the same age as me, making her observations particularly poignant to my experience.

 The wedding took place at the bride’s house, but there was also a larger party happening at the groom’s house. This is because the groom’s family is gaining another member of their family, the Buhari, sister in law, while the bride’s family is losing a member. Thus, the bride’s house is a more somber setting when it is closer to the actual wedding event. It is still festive and there was really delicious food, but the air was tinged with the knowledge that after the wedding the community and family would be saying goodbye to someone they dearly loved.

When we first got to the wedding we were immediately ushered in and shown to the buffet of delicious food, puffy fried bread, rice with raisins and cashews, a dish with potatoes paneer and green beans, and a delicious chickpea dish. We ate multiple plates, talked with my classmate’s sister-in-law, and then the celebration begun! I was a little surprised that, in contrast to the large number of people at the food part of the wedding, there were not many people at the actually marriage event. Of course though, as the Americans present, we were hustled to the very front and I was actually seated next to the bride…! The ceremony was filled with many traditional blessings and rituals, some of which I understood (thanks to my teacher) and some of which were more unique to this family’s religious practice. At the end of the ceremony my friend and fellow PCT John were called up to give Tikka, a blessing given with a red power/rice mixture applied to the forehead. We did it incorrectly which was fairly embarrassing, but now we know for next time! The couple was generous though, and didn’t make fun of us (to our faces).  
Bride and groom rolling a ball of nutmeg between them 

After the ceremony, the suitcase that was sitting ominously next to the bride and groom was picked up, and the bride, crying hysterically in her brother’s arms, was shuttled into a car with the groom to go to his house. Oja explained that it was the first time she was leaving home, that she didn’t know her new husband, and she would miss her family. As she explained this to me, she grew sad. As we watched the bride leave, neither of us could keep the tears from welling up. It is a whole different kind of tears than are shed at weddings in the United States. I can’t imagine the bravery it would take to make this journey. What she must be thinking as she walked away from her home. I think that marriage always takes courage, the ceremony of saying you will love someone for the rest of your life takes great faith. To leave and hope to fall in love takes a whole new type of faith and bravery.

For the onlookers, after the ceremony ended we ate more delicious food. I didn’t think I could, but there I was with yet another heaping plate. I returned home after the ceremony just in time for dinner.



For more reading into marriage practices, specifically child marriage, in Nepal click here: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2016/04/24/opinion/24exposures.html?_r=0

With posting this link, I would like to encourage you from holding judgment on any cultural practices I discuss in my blog. I am learning, as are we all. Personally, I have been trying to find beauty and seek understanding while studying Nepali culture. In most cases, this is easy. Many practices are centered around respect for one another and higher powers. In the article above, I am filled with joy to see the photo of Durga holding his daughter and read his high hopes for this young girl. I appreciate Niruta’s strength, and the comradery and she found with Durga’s sister. I remind myself that although I would like to see the practice of child marriage fade into the past, the people in this story and others are the voices of change.

Just last week, was my host father’s birthday! During the day he had

These celebrations all are marked by food in my mind which led to the title of this post, but more than that they all share a deep connection to the family unit that is so valued in Nepali culture, and has been so comforting during my first two months of training. I have felt so welcome, so loved, and so well fed. Attending celebrations with very little language can seem scary, but I’ve learned that possibly even more valuable than verbal communication is the ability to connect through other means.

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