Mannegau

Sorry for the delay. I had to first conquer nausea from hell and then a degenerated computer battery to finally reload several times and get the blogspot gods to hear my plea. Not that I'm religious but with my stomach getting less suicidal (thank you Pepto Bismol) and a charged computer, things are looking up.

We returned from Mannegau the day before yesterday after the bumpiest, chunkiest, ker-THUMPiest ride home. Imagine a dirt road complete with dents and boulders just two inches wider than your rickety vehicle, then throw in some 180 degree turns and slant it down at 25 degrees. Over five hours. So yeah, yesterday was more of a bedridden neverending parade of sailor swears at my stomach which apparently has ears and does not appreciate my dirty mouth.

I will do my best to repaint our homestay. It will be long so if you care to back out now, I promise not to hunt you down later.

We arrived in the bus at the town below Mannegau and began to hike up and up, over bridges and a surging blue river (the first blue river I have seen since arriving here) and then oodles of stairs. Very sweaty, but very satisfying. We show up smelling like roses and the leading women's group of the village serves us tea and then we are distributed to our host families. My Didi (older sister) Malati (her name) brought me to their home across from the main road and store where I walked past a chicken coop, the central water tap, a huge buffalo and a 3 day old goat who for some reason found my pants very interesting. The first night was, well, awkward. I was babysat for a few hours by the grandmother and grandfather. Lots of smiling and nodding without a prayer of understanding rapid Nepali or Tamang (it's not a good sign that I couldn't tell which language they were speaking.) I was given a bed in the TV room (with what I think was the nicest mattress the family owned) while Didi slept in the bed next to me. That first night she found out that my parents were doctors and immediately asked if I had any medicine for the discolorations under her eyes. Whenever I tried to write something in my journal, it usually ended up being a language lesson with whomever was around - everyone was so curious to see writing in English, and the older women always wanted me to write their names first in Devnagari, then in English, and then in my slanted, cursive mess.

Things got easier with my family. At first I was worried they would get exhausted with my constant "bujhina" (I did not understand) or "ke ho" (what's that?), but then it became more of a joke than anything else. I was the adorable, clueless house pet rather than the awkward visitor from abroad. It took me a long time to notice the lack of anything (mirrors, indoor plumbing, chairs, chimneys etc.) simply because Didi made it look so easy. I had imagined coming in that, during our mini-research projects, I would come in and "fix" something. But when I arrived, I couldn't find that something to fix. Water was flowing, they produced their own crops and purchased only spices, tea and other occasional odds and ends. The kids walked two hours to school in the morning while Didi prepared more rice, dhaal and vegetable curry than I ever hope to eat again. The morning I finally ate with my hands instead of a spoon, my Didi and her husband looked at me as if I had just said my first words.

Let me also just take a moment of silence for the public shower. It was AMAZING. If heaven exists, it was in that shower. There is a large public tap down the mountain that looks out on green terraced fields and mountains on all sides. The water is cool and clean (at least to the eye) and was the first time I have been slightly able to satisfy my incredible craving to go swimming. After getting clean as a whistle in our lungis (the coverings we had to wear cause the shower was, well, public) we got to air dry in the mountain breezes. Very very noice.

I marked my progression in Mannegau from discouraged to ecstatic by the small moments when I felt myself being actually useful. I helped Didi with the goats, then washed my dishes, poured my own chiyaa, helped peel vegetables and then graduated to even asking for seconds at meals (BIG deal.) For my mini-research, though I had planned initially to study water usage, I found the most efficient way to do this was actually to record the history of the women's group. When I asked where the water came from, all I got was "below." But the women's group was the group responsible for installing the main water taps and handling political/infrastructural disputes within the village. With Kavita as a translator, I met with six older women who told me how Educate the Children (an NGO) came in and first formed the group. With the support of only two men, they built the current building they now work in completely by themselves, collecting monthly donations of 5, then 10 Rupees (about 1 or 2 cents.) They lend money to impoverished women with low interest, they are working on local education and just generally kick some major ass. (Plus make a mean roti.)

Within the family, I was able to joke my way into my own little niche. Didi and I talked under the stars about going to the moon. My bahini (little sister) Rima gave me a makeover every other morning, never failing to say my hair was like "gundruk" (dried vegetables that smell funny.) Over dinner, we shared dance moves with my bahini and bhai (little brother) dancing a little Nepali and me pulling out some Saturday Night Fever. I taught them some shadow puppets and how to snap your fingers; they taught me to milk a goat and make Nepali chiyaa (tea.) On the last night during our large party (complete with large amounts of raksi - alcohol) we danced and sang and I was hugged so fiercely I started to scrunch my shoulders in anticipation whenever an older woman approached me. The raksi may have helped (though the Americans certainly held their own while some anonymous Nepali students quickly went under) but for the first time I was the first to jump on the dance floor without inhibitions or embarrassment. It was simply fun.

Now we're back, I have consumed one peanut butter sandwich in the past 24 hours and there's a paper due tomorrow. It's strange to jump from one world to the other, and Mannegau feels incredibly far away. I will send my host-family photos though it may take two months to actually reach them.

I also may have forgotten, but did I mention we go trekking for 10 days starting on the 20th?! Hell to the yes! (This trekking includes riding me some elephants! Wahoo!) I also might have finalized a location for my independent research project: Manang, a mountainous area and common trekking intersect for tourists going through the Annapurna range. There is a glacier there that feeds into a lake and may require a few days of hiking to reach. I still hope to study domestic water usage and climate change though it's always up for revision.

Did you make it to the end? You must be some kind of superhero. Congratulations and keep following if you have the stamina.