A New Home

Somehow, my host siblings knew I would choose their family. I asked them how they knew, and they said that when the six American ETAs visited their house, I had joy in my eyes. "We just knew you would come," they said, "and today we have a new Didi (sister)." When my host father came home from teaching, he said "today I am so happy because I have another daughter now."

Interestingly, the members of my host family are not the only people who knew I would come to Shree Gorkhali Primary School. One of the ETAs from last year was neighbors with Sabitra, the English teacher at my small primary school. When I told Kelly, the ETA from last year where I would be teaching, she said, "Somehow I knew you would be working with Sabitra."

After visiting the six schools and homestay families, I couldn't imagine myself spending eight months in Nepal anywhere except with the family and school where I am now. Never in my life have I so powerfully felt that the gift of a greater power has brought me here to this place.

When I visited my school, it was during vacation time, so I did not get to meet any children. Yesterday, before moving in with my homestay family, the NELTA (Nepali English Teachers Association) stopped to talk with the headmaster of my school. I got a first glimpse of the children I had traveled across the world to meet.

I saw the children in class two shyly watch me as I spoke with their loving teacher, Sabitra. There were about ten students. I wish I had a picture of that moment to share. Ten small faces, some with snot dripping from their noses, eagerly peering out of the classroom door. What beautiful children. Suddenly my arms were covered in goose bumps because in that moment I knew I had come to Nepal for each of these children.

Today, my name is Sarswoti Kapri; a name given to me by my host siblings. Together, they took me on a walk to show me their school, also the place there their father teaches math. As we stood on the roof, they pointed out a collection of homes and explained that the people who live there are very poor. My sister Sankalpa said something along the lines of, "these people have been treated very poorly, but I think it is important to give love to all people and not look down upon them." It was a beautiful moment. I told her I admired her profound statement. Earlier in the day, I had jokingly mentioned that I needed a new name because all of my host siblings' names began with the letter "S." Suddenly, Sankalpa said that she thought of a name for me, Sarswoti, the Hindu goddess of knowledge. Today, not only do I have a new name, I wholeheartedly feel part of a beautiful Nepali family. What a gift.

Highlights from a Month in Kathmandu

It's hard to imagine that I have been in Nepal for about a month now.  I've been so busy taking everything in, that I would have 100 blog posts to document every exciting experience, but there are only so many hours in a day. Now that I have completed my 60-hour Nepali language learning program, teacher training with the brilliant Christine Stone, and selected the school where I will teach,  I am ready for the real adventure to begin.  As I pack my bags to move in with a Nepali family and finally begin teaching, I fondly reflect on the highlights of an exciting month in Kathmandu.

My highlights include..

• being chased in the streets by children saying "Namaste" 
• discovering mint lemonade 
• realizing that Nikita, a Nepali friend from college lives less than 3 minutes from my apartment and joining her for a delicious dinner. 
• drinking mint lemonade 
• the moment "Rumahl/Napkin" the giant moth was released into nature and I could actually go to bed (see previous post for the full story)
• drinking mint lemonade 
• the delicious dal bhat lunches at Fulbright (I still crave it...)
• buying a cheap guitar that sounds great! 
• teaching Lisa and Caitlin how to play the guitar, going with them to buy guitars, and listening them play "All Too Well" by Taylor Swift (100+ times).
• having a motorcyclist stop about 1/2 an inch away from my leg and having him stop traffic to say "Oh, sorry 'bout that" in a busy intersection. 
• not losing my leg. 
• walking through Thamel (a touristy retail area) with my friend Alanna  and having a man trying to sell a high pitched instrument that sounded like nails on a blackboard ask us "You like?" and my friend Alanna stating "no" so forcefully that the poor man looked like he was going to cry. 
• drinking mint lemonade
• having an overlong conversation in Nepali class about how to use the hose on the side of squat toilets in Nepal without drenching your clothes. (I still don't know how to do this...) 
• visiting the Boudha Stupa at 6:30 in the morning--probably the most beautiful place I have ever been.  (learn more about the Boudha Stupa here). 
• being given a tour of Patan and learning about Newari culture from a former Fulbright scholar from Nepal. (learn more about Patan here).
• visiting the Swayambhunath Stupa (aka Monkey Temple) at dusk and watching the sun set over Kathmandu. (learn more about Swayambhunath here). 
• seeing baby monkeys at Swayambhunath Stupa. 
• practice teaching with Ellen at a Tibetan refugee school and ripping the name crowns we had made for each student in half when we realized we had over 40 students and had been told there would be under 20. 
• visiting the home stay families and schools in Gorkha and Lalitpur and having Christine Stone, our teacher trainer, bring her dog Nim, a large sheep dog, along for the 5 hour car ride.
• having lunch with the Nepali Teach for Nepal grantees and talking with them about education
• talking with my friend Santosh about children's homes in Nepal, and getting a grown man to help me finish coloring my school supplies. 
• spending a month living with five amazingly creative and inspirational people.

• Oh yeah, and learning Nepali...
• and...drinking mint lemonade

Swayambhunath Stupa

look! a monkey! 

BABY MONKEY!

Pensive Monkey

Mother and BABY MONKEY!  

Boudhanath Stupa

Boudhanath Stupa

Practice Teaching at the Tibetan Refugee School with Ellen

Wondering Where

I wonder, wonder where

I will stand with the children

Where village vistas bring vitality

I wonder, wonder where

I will find a foreignly familiar family

I wonder, wonder where

Belonging soothes the searching soul

One of the most unique things about the Fulbright ETA program in Nepal is that we get to choose the school and homestay family that will shape our experience. There is something beautiful about choice. The Fulbright commission selected six schools and six homestay families—three in the Gorkha district near the Bazar and three in Lalitpur near Lubhu. All of the schools are government schools and many of the students come from marginalized backgrounds. 

Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow, I can’t wait until tomorrow. We are going to Lalitpur to visit three schools and three homestay families. Last week at this time, I was packing my bags to go to Gorkha. We visited three beautiful schools and three wonderful homestay families there. After tomorrow we will have seen all of the possible schools and families that could tentatively be our home for the next eight months. Among ourselves, the six ETAs will decide where each of us will be living and teaching. 

The view from Gorkha

The view from a hilltop in Gorkha

The Lower Secondary School in rural Gorkha

The Lower Secondary School in rural Gorkha

Students at the Higher Secondary School in Dashkilo, Gorkha

The Higher Secondary School in Dashkilo, Gorkha

The Primary School in Gorkha

A Primary School Classroom in Gorkha

The view from our hotel

“Napkin” the Pine-Cone-Sized Moth- A Story of Karma

On my third day in Nepal, I woke up to quite a surprise—a giant moth the size of a pine-cone was perched on the curtain near the door. It looked like an eggplant with wings. I am still not entirely convinced that it was a moth…

At dinner, Caitlin and I joked about the “moth.” We decided to give it a name. I flipped through my Nepali phrase book and selected one of the only words I could pronounce— rumahl; it means napkin.

Earlier that day I decided to put up a mosquito net around my bed due to my penny-sized ailments. There was only one problem—there was nothing to hang the net from. I had tried to put the net up the past two days and had failed. Due to my lack of ingenuity I decided to seek assistance—after all, it shouldn't take more than two Fulbright grantees to put up a mosquito net, right? Alanna came to my rescue. We systematically wove a clothesline across the room and secured the net with clothespins. We succeeded. I was delighted. No more bug bites for me.

Now it was evening, and we returned to our apartment after dinner. I went into the living room and ended up talking to Alanna and Elsie until 10:00 pm. We were really proud of ourselves for staying up so late—typically, we went to bed around 8:00 pm (if we could stay up that late) and many of us would wake up around 3 or 4 am— Oh, jet lag. Finally, I decided it was time for me to go to bed. We had training in the morning, and I needed to be prepared.

I was changing into my pajamas when I unexpectedly heard something—a strange flapping sound. Suddenly, out of nowhere, Napkin came zooming through the darkness and HIT ME IN THE FACE. Oh my gosh! I thought, this is my karma for calling a giant flying pine-cone “napkin.” I was terrified. Because Lisa was sleeping, I contained myself from screaming. I had a mosquito net, I would be safe from “Napkin” the giant “moth” right? I climbed into the net and tried to go to sleep….

Napkin would not stop fluttering its wings. The strange noise woke Lisa up. As Napkin banged itself into the walls searching for a light source, I told Lisa about how I had been hit in the face by the mysterious creature. Alanna soon came into our room wondering what was going on. Shortly after her arrival, Napkin disappeared somewhere. Everything was silent for a few minutes, and Alanna left. Lisa and I thought we could go to bed. WRONG. Almost immediately after Alanna left, Napkin returned. It violently hurled itself at the walls. Napkin decided to pay Lisa a visit in her bed. She hid under her blanket, knowing that she should not be afraid. Poor Lisa. Then, Napkin noticed a light fixture on the side of the wall. It flew towards the empty light fixture. Suddenly, Napkin was stuck inside!

One minute past….no sign of Napkin

Two minutes past…no sign of Napkin

Three minutes past…no sign of Napkin

After about five minutes we thought Napkin was dead.

Until it came thrashing out of the light fixture straight towards my bed. Thankfully I have a mosquito net, I thought as Napkin pounded at the sides of my net. Alanna heard my cries of distress and promptly returned. Right when she came back, Napkin mysteriously disappeared again.

One minute past….no sign of Napkin

Two minutes past…no sign of Napkin

Three minutes past…no sign of Napkin

After about five minutes we thought Napkin was dead.

First I thought it was just the blanket rubbing against me. Then I felt the soft tickling touch of thin twig-like legs crawling up my body. Napkin was back.

To this day, I am yet to understand how Napkin managed to get inside my mosquito net that night. After some initial shrieks of terror and deep breaths, I managed to remove myself from my bed. Despite my immense discomfort, Napkin’s arrival inside my mosquito net was ultimately a good thing, because it ended up saving its life. Brave Alanna got an empty pitcher and captured Napkin inside, releasing it out into nature on the balcony. That was the last I saw of Napkin, the eggplant shaped flying thing. I have learned an important lesson from this ordeal, don’t name flying creatures that resemble pine-cones after the easiest word to pronounce in the Nepali dictionary, they will find you and make you pay. 

Rumahl a.k.a "Napkin"
 Photographed in real life size. 

Kurta Shopping for Foreign Identity

We walk through busy streets meandering across the city. Small square doorless shops line the roads. Merchants gaze out from their shops waiting for customers. People walking alongside the road greet us with a friendly “Namaste,” I embrace the divine in you. Respect and understanding feels so naturally genuine, it is woven into the language.

Sometimes I wonder, though, how it would feel to blend into my surroundings—to not stand out like a foreigner.

Can a garment of cloth really help build a bridge? What will it say to native eyes?

The kurta shop has walls and walls of colored cloth. Choices upon choices. We sift through a rainbow of excitement to find our new identity—it will be ready on Thursday.

It is a normal Friday morning in Nepal. I wonder what people are thinking as we walk down the puddled streets adorned in our native clothes.  More eyes follow us than before—but I do not feel uncomfortable; I feel surrounded by an innocent curiosity to understand what brought this clothing to our pale skin. In this moment, I feel beautiful. 

Arriving

The Himalaya poked through miles of bright white clouds as we flew into Kathmandu.  Brilliantly colored houses stretched out their arms to welcome us. Warm brass tones of prayer bells rang.

The streets are filled with the smell of rustic incense.  Spices dance in my mouth as I eat my first meal of dal bhat. The sweet taste of fresh-squeezed lemonade quenches my thirst.  I embrace the sustenance of my new home. 

Fulbright Pre-Departure Orientation

Greetings from Washington DC! I traveled a whopping 26 minutes on the metro to come to the Fulbright South East Asia pre-departure orientation--but traveling is not about the distance, its about the destination. Here at our beautiful hotel, approximately 109 scholars, researchers, and ETAs have formed a unique community, where conversations about global migration, health policy, education, women's rights, child trafficking, and the cultural and ecological impacts of climate change (to name a few) yield thoughtful discussions. I am impressed with the openness and warmth of the people here. There is such an immense spirit of joy and excitement for the journeys that we are about to begin...

The picture above consists of the group of six Americans (including myself) that will be traveling to Nepal together, two Nepal ETA alumni (top left), and two program leaders (corners). What amazing people. We are a group that includes creative writers, musicians, special education teachers, ESL teachers, environmentalists, political scientists, and human rights activists. Within minutes of meeting one another, we felt instantly connected; I am confident that we will all build powerful friendships with one another throughout our eight-month adventure.  

It is invigorating to realize that the next time I post to this blog, I will be in the bustling Kathmandu Valley with five new friends that I already deeply value.