Photo by Rubina Shreshth |
I had spent a
week with very difficult yet exciting and interesting experiences in Kolki, a
rural village of Lamjung district last year. I was there to facilitate five-day
training on life skills to members of local child clubs on invitation by a
local NGO. Interestingly the trip became so memorable because of cross-cultural
experiences I went through, rather than what I did there as a part of my formal
purpose. It also made me learn some important life skills practically, which I
was supposed to teach there.
Quite later than
the scheduled time, at 7:30 in the first evening, I reached Borangkhola, of
Bhalayokharka VDC, with Usha Gurung, the lady who will be my coworker for next
week. I had met her that very day, only 4 hours earlier. She entered an
inn-looking hotel, and began conversation with the owner in Gurung language. From
this I anticipated the difficulties I am likely to face in next few days. They
talked for a couple of minutes. After Usha said to me, "Jaau Sir!, we both moved upstairs.
But I was wrong
to think that she already arranged the accommodation. A small boy of about 10
years came upstairs following us and he asked a man just checked in there to
leave that room. I came to know that it was for me. Though the man first
refused, he shifted to another room, leaving the river-side room for me. As
soon as I checked in there and was about to rest, Usha came to me and said that
she was going to order meals.
Food is the
aspect that I fear the most about while I am far away from my home. I am
vegetarian. And, among vegetarian items too, I am so selective that the things
I wish not to have make really a long list. Thus I cautioned her, "Ushaji,
I think it is needed to tell them that I am so selective regarding foods and
never accept meat items." She nodded and went down. A couple of minutes
after she came back saying, "Sir, this is Gurung village. Nothing is
available except buff. Chalchha ni!"
"Oh my God, What you understood Ushaji! I said I am a vegetarian and I
don't take any meat items!" She
apologized and we both came downstairs together. Now I myself talked with the
owner and she agreed to provide me milk instead of meats.
Usha and I sat on
a table and began our dinner. No electricity was there due to load shedding,
and mere candle was also not available for each of the tables. I began having
food, without seeing what colours they are of. I once asked Usha what curry did
we get, and she said it was of brinjal (which I never like).
The next morning
we woke up earlier and began to walk towards Kolki, our final destination. This
too was a Gurung village. But it was more remote than Borangkhola; so I
imagined that I would get more problems here. Keeping last day's experience in
mind, I didn't wait for Usha to talk about food and I myself approached the Didi of the home, where we will stay for
next five days. "Didi, what will
you feed us?" "Nothing 'Mastara',
daal-bhat-tarkaari and raangako
maasu!" she said. (Didi
called me "Mastera" always
in her sweet Gurung tone.) "Didi,
let me clarify you that I don't take any meat item including eggs."
"Ok then" she said. Now I felt lighter than yesterday while taking
meal.
From the next
day, the organizers including Usha requested Hotelwalla Dai to bring milk for me. I was surprised to know that
the entire village did not have tradition of using milk and milk products as
food (despite the fact that they domesticated cows and buffalos); but meat was
almost regular in each of the houses.
Photo by Rubina Shreshth |
One evening
chairperson of local Village Child Protection Committee (VCPC) Dhan Bahadur
Gurung came to meet representatives of organizer of this training. He joined us
for dinner of that evening. I came to know then that he was so fond of local raksi. He even requested me to take it a
little. I told him that I never take any meat item; alcohol is so far from my
acceptance. Suddenly, I sneezed once.
Then he said, "… seems that you are caught by cold now. Otherwise,
it is jeevanjal for us, Sir. Just be
with us for a couple of weeks, and you will know it!"
Another
interesting aspect of my stay there is about language. I was widely exposed to
Gurung language everyday. During the four-hour journey from Borangkhola to
Kolki, I didn't hear any Nepali word but from Usha. Whole Kolki village was
filled with Gurungs. On the first day, I met an old woman while going to my
workplace (a local school) from my hotel, and she tried to ask something to me.
Of course she asked, but I didn't understand it, thus couldn't answer. She must
have thought me a Gurung, assuming that no one comes there except Gurung. So
sorry for her that I was not! The case repeated almost half a dozen times.
I was filled
with joy when I met Shanta Poudyal, English teacher of that local school,
because she was the first person that I met who had non-Gurung mother tongue.
Moreover, she was more frequent in English and Nepali than others (in which I
too am frequent). Nevertheless, being lived in Gurung village for more than
half a decade her Gurung language too was strong. (She claimed that she knew
90% of Gurung language.) Now, she became my first priority to talk with about
anything than Usha because of this language aspect. In fact, she is the first person who called
me 'Mastera' in Gurung intonation
which Hotelwallah Didi and others
adopted later. She kidded me too frequently with Gurung words. And, she made me
learn some Gurung words. Thanks to her and all of my participants that I have
been using these few words while I meet some Gurung people these days, which
have been helping me to become closer with them.
During training
sessions too, Gurung was more pervasive than Nepali. I used to assign various
group discussions to them. While observing I used to feel puzzled seeing that
they all discussed it in Gurung language and later one "intelligent"
student used to translate their conclusion into Nepali before presenting it to
me. Realising it, I used to request my participants everyday while beginning
the session to use as Nepali as possible during training time. But, I was there
like a policeman without a stick, whom you can disobey. They disobeyed my
request. (It doesn’t' mean that they ignored me all the time. Of course, they
did help me in training activities except this language aspect and they did
learn whatever I taught.) The funnier thing happened when a group presented a
role play about critical thinking skills into Gurung language. I commented
after the performance that it would be better if it was in Nepali. One clever
boy from the group, however, instantly answered that "Sir, we wanted to
make it as live as possible, as near to our life as possible." Ok, then. I
had no argument for refutation.
I gradually
became habituated to that setting and felt easier day by day. But one problem
was there which I never got rid of. The very first evening I listened RamMaya Didi (a member of organizing team)
talking to Usha, "Usha, you know that this home doesn't have toilet?"
Usha took it very naturally as if nothing odd is there in this fact. She just
nodded. But it took my deep attention despite the fact that neither of them was
talking to me and I had just overheard them. I suddenly asked "what to do
then?" Ushaji said, "The next door Dai will allow us to use his toilet." (The fact is quite
impossible for you to even imagine now here, but come on! this is the case that
was so common in that village.) However
I had seen some hoarding boards on the way to Borangkhola that stated the area
is "khula disa mukta chhetra".
I thought that Kolki is yet to be declared "khula disa mukta chhetra" and satisfied myself.
The next morning
I became earliest to wake up among our team, and it felt so odd to me to
approach the next house. It became so heavier that I felt as if this is the
most difficult time for me – I wished not to go to that house and request for
toilet. However, I had not any option. Hiding all my pains, difficulties and
humiliations, I dared to move toward other's toilet. Fortunately there I met
one of my participants, she just showed me the way and I entered. Returning I
met her mother. I said, "Didi, I
beg your help for some days. Please allow me to come to this toilet." She
said, "Ok, but for how many days?" this question was indeed
unexpected and very difficult for me to answer. But I had no any option but to
say "for five days". However, I felt fortunate finding that the door
was already unlocked the next day onwards.
Being said that,
I don't think it is practical to seek other facilities of accommodations like
hot and cold water and air conditions. They were in the city and I was quite
far from the city. No sign of city I did behold for continuous six days – no
any vehicle, no televisions. My room's ceiling was so low that I could not stand
straight inside it, neither was it spacious enough to let me stand beside bed.
It was an
adventure, and an opportunity for me to experience a "real" Nepal.
Nirijana Didi, my half-way partner suggested others on her facebook profile,
"If you wanna see Nepal, reach Kolki after four-hour walk like Diwakar and
experience life there!"
Anyway, I stayed
in Kolki for five days. Up to the fifth day, I was so accustomed to its
environments and compulsions that I began to think Kolki as "Haamro Kolki". I had gone there to
make little children learn life skills, but it also taught me life skills like
how to get used-to in new geographical and socio-cultural settings. It taught
me that problems are essential parts of life, don't dare to escape them, rather
face them. (Actually this is what real life skill is!) Life is like my journey
to Kolki – you face difficulties, but if you try to perceive them as adventure,
you are sure to move forward. This journey made me more courageous that I now
perceive such difficulties as normal parts of life and make myself ready to
deal with such challenges before hand.
(The Nepali version of travelogue of this journey is available at <http://pyakdiwa.blogspot.com/2010/08/blog-post.html>)
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