Our overnight trip to Janakpur has uplifted and depressed me at the same time.
The tale of two cities.
Invigoration: Janakpur is a city of great color, character and festivity. It has the bustle of Kathmandu, but not overwhelmingly so-fewer motorized vehicles means less noise and better air quality. The heat and somewhat Indian flavor of the city is epitomized by the bright color of women’s saris-red, yellow and orange being the most common-the availability of food from south of the Nepalese border, the blasting of mostly Hindi music on the streets and the rainbow-colored rickshaws, which almost seem to outnumber people. Janakpur is a city right out of the history books: it is the birthplace of Sita and where she wed Rama (of Ramayana fame), and the Janaki temple, which dominates the market area, is a major pilgrimage site for Hindus. Tika-laden cows and sadhus mingle peacefully (mostly-I saw one cow chasing a sadhu) in the Janaki temple square and devotional music emanates from the main shrine. I am very fond of Janakpur’s atmosphere and ambiance despite the bone-jarring hour long bus-seemingly held together with duct tape and wire-ride from Bardibas…
Return to reality: I am back in Bardibas facing another week of dhal bhat only menus and house/dwelling hunting, which has essentially been reduced to one possibility… we walk through town (10 minutes) to the same drop-jawed expressions, and then plan for what to do with the rest of our day. I think what most ex-pats wish for from time to time is invisibility-the opportunity to blend in or get lost in the crowd if for no other reason because we quickly realize that this is an impossibility. But perhaps I am too callous with regards to Bardibas. It is, indeed, more peaceful than a place like Kathmandu and Janakpur minus its menacing highway, of course, and to meander down some of its dirt paths set back from the mess that was essentially built along the road, is to step back into the simple, quaint-if not unadorned-village life in Nepal. I also realize that it is something I am preoccupied with at the moment since I have yet to delve into my work with full force. There have been some self-led orientations around the office, but nothing too substantial yet. That has been a sort of sore spot since we have basically been left to our own designs until some of the staff return to town. Promises of being introduced to the community and learning in more depth about the inner workings of the organization are the first victims in what promises to be many bouts of miscommunication…
Things should begin looking up soon with the return of my organization’s personnel tomorrow and, hopefully, their assistance in helping us negotiate for a place to live… Our greatest fear at the moment is that the one place we have found that is livable (and available) will somehow be unattainable in the end. I literally have no idea what we will do next… It’s nothing new in this part of the world that prices magically double for foreigners no matter how much you plead-in Nepali even-that your allowance is for basic survival only. In their defense, however, the funds of the average volunteer is well beyond what most Nepalis will ever earn, but it is no less frustrating trying to bring this point across. It is also a sort of gamesmanship that Nepalis themselves engage in-bus and rickshaw fares, vegetables in the market, kitchen utensils and clothing, there is essentially no such thing as a fixed price and no limits to bargaining. While we certainly have no desire to live in luxury here, working in the development sector by no means that one has to live like his/her beneficiaries in order to empathize or do one’s work well.
Another day. I have actually never seen Bardibas lovelier than during this afternoon’s downpour. Granted, mud flowed into the streets, wind kicked up the litter and puddles quickly formed everywhere, but it was as if the rain thumped some life into the listless town: people scrambled for shelter, crowds gathered under the corrugated tin roofs of tea shops, conversations were struck up freely, even the ubiquitous street cows were prodded into a gallop for the nearby natural awning of a banyan tree and its stone dais known as a chautara-a place for porters to rest their load. We also scuttled into a nearby milk sweets and samosa shop (ok, I’ve been holding out; we can also get samosa…) with its smooth mud floors and interesting array of rainbow-colored religious iconography posters: there’s a Ganesh, Shiva, Saraswati, Hanuman the monkey king and, interestingly, a multi-colored depiction of the crucifixion of Christ as if revealed in Ken Kesey’s The Electric Kool-Aid Acid Test… Jesus on the ultimate trip…
In the morning and evening we head for Bardibas’ Gautam guesthouse-self-described as five star-for our early and late versions of dhal bhat. They’ve become quite accustomed to us now after 10 days and we don’t tend to attract the same crowds as we did in the beginning. Nevertheless, we never have to eat alone-there’s no choice in this, really-for someone will always join us if for nothing else just to watch us eat. This is a fairly common occurrence in most places in Nepal, but a real treat (or catastrophe) for Bardibites since foreigners are a rare site other than those silhouettes gleaned through the tinted glass windows of a UN or International Red Cross land cruiser. The folks at Gautam are actually very sweet and friendly, and we’ve just about at this point learned the names of all the extended family members and everyone else who works there. Babies are brought out for us to ogle over, and they marvel and crow about our ability to eat with our hand. Tonight one of the little girls at the restaurant, who has up to this point been rather shy-decided to urinate right at the entrance of the restaurant dribbling over the imbedded bottle caps in the cement which spell out “wel-come.” Welcome, indeed.
By all indications, Bardibas is made up of a variety of ethnic groups and castes, some Indians as well, and we are thankful that Nepali is the language/dialect of choice. Janakpur, on the other hand, with its huge Mithili (ethnic group) and Indian populations, is obviously a place where Nepali is not the only language spoken, and when it is, it was quite difficult for us to understand. With a little patience and repetition, we can survive in Bardibas with our limited and halting Nepali. Probably so in Janakpur as well although comprehension at times required a few more responses of, “once more, please.”
I have had a few meetings now with my organization’s staff and today sat through my first-and very long-staff meeting. This really tested my Nepali ability, but obviously, most of it just flew by me… I did have some translation help through most of the meeting, but it was really most interesting for me just to see the process of meetings in Nepal. I will fill in more of these details in my next addition as well as some of the details of our flat/apartment, which we have just moved into.