Back in Kathmandu; back at work. Politically, things seem to have grown a bit more confrontational in the short period we were away with both sides lobbing more than just bombs and bullets at one another: the Maoists are considering an unprecedented 42-day strike, which would cripple the country, and the RNA—that’s the Royal Nepalese Army—is purportedly strong-arming human rights organizations since they have been quite critical as of late regarding atrocities committed by the latter. The Asian Human Rights Commission (based outside of Kathmandu and so not taking the risk that domestically-based human rights orgs would) had these scathing comments:
Both sides kill with impunity. Inevitably, a growing number of civilians are leaving their homes in search of security and shelter. Many do not find it. Instead they end up dead, tortured, disappeared, rearrested, raped, illegally detained or hopelessly displaced, like thousands of their fellow citizens. Whereas the Maoists are operating without a chain of command and respect for international law, their government opponents are operating under a chain of command—starting in the palace—that has institutionalized the same lack of respect for international principles…. The king has failed to adopt a realistic and sincere approach towards a solution to the conflict. It is his decisions that have paved the way for the continued violence and impunity of state security officials along which the whole country is now being dragged.
Of course, there is much, too, that can be said about the Maoists and their own deplorable practices, but many in Kathmandu now feel that the king has no desire to move quickly, particularly as he, by all appearances anyway, inches further and further outside of his constitutional monarchy role. Still, one never really knows since the papers are full of speculations about either calling elections or holding peace talks. The palace has at least dropped many of the “conditions” for the latter.
What this means for the average Nepali is a new year ushered in by more strife and struggle—struggle for daily subsistence. I seriously wonder whether the project I designed for rural Mahottari district will be able to operate effectively in such a milieu. Yet, the resiliency of many poor Nepalis is astonishing. On the brink of starvation, their are village women who chase off Maoists with their sheer numbers, only to have them come back and have to chase them off once again… Some villages are on the threshold of starvation, and, again, it’s the women who walk days and weeks foraging food for their families.
For us, Kathmandu seems not too troubled by shortages, except when the Maoists call Kathmandu Valley strikes (luckily, we were out of the country during the most recent strike). Currently, most of the city, and the country, are up in arms about the hike in fuel prices. This includes kerosene, which many households outside of Kathmandu use for cooking fuel, and many restaurants—certainly, every hole in the wall chai shop—use. The price is now about 50¢ per litre—a whopping sum in a country where many live on $1 per day. And it is quite difficult just finding the stuff—we have a kerosene heater that I have yet to buy kerosene for since no one seems to know when and where to get it… Nepalis love to use the terms “up there” and “down there,” so when I inquire about places to buy kerosene, it is normally an “up there” that I get in response. But “up there” has remained quite elusive. And when I have seen supplies, there is normally a long queue of people waiting—there is no beating Nepali women to the punch, who seem to have a knack for the exact time that it will be delivered and go on sale… Only because of the good graces of our landlord (who feels a little bad about the stolen bicycles, I think, but is a great guy nonetheless), who gave us a couple of litres to stoke up our heater, have we been able to knock off the chill these last couple of nights. Nothing much comes between Migyoung and myself, except the hot water bottle in bed…
These are relatively minor hardships for us. Indeed, over the longest and hottest summer I can ever remember, how I longed for cold nights like these. I now have an even more decrepit, used and beat up bicycle to replace my stolen steed that in reality wasn’t that much better. This one, along with the other corps of beater bikes abandoned behind the VSO office, was blessed with a blob of red tika powder on its front fender (serving as the forehead, I suppose) and has a red and white “offering” tied around its handlebars, so I’m hopeful that this may ward off any thieves that also happen to be devout Hindus… It makes an awful squeaking racket when I peddle it and the rear brake pads are threatening to fall off, but it gets me to work and back and other places around town when I just can’t be bothered to cram into another auto rickshaw/three-wheeler. The irony is that I am probably the only ex-pat in town that chooses to ride an Indian pushbike as opposed to a more modern and sleek mountain bike. I chose the Indian bike because 1) I thought it would be less likely to get stolen (wrong) and 2) because I just enjoy riding it more and I can never really get going fast enough to hurt myself. I love to be able to sit up straight on it and take in my surroundings (but not too much lest I get swiped by another two-wheeler of the motorized kind). The Indian-made bicycles are virtually indestructible—sure, nuts and bolts fall off from time to time (even pedals!) but you can stop on practically every street corner and there will be a little roadside place with an array of new and used parts. Besides, those mountain bikes only look good, and it’s only a matter of time before their nuts and bolts fall off as well…
I now come home from work and have a shower immediately before the water turns from luke warm to cold, but the cold weather and short days mean that we’ve yet to have anything really hot, but we’ve grown rather accustomed to the one-minute bath… A seemingly permanent morning haze hangs over the city this time of year—partly fog, exhaust fumes and the smoke of a thousand street fires. There is a woody, sweet smell to these fires—combinations of straw, cow dung, scrap wood, briquettes, rubbish and corn husks fashioned into miniature logs—that I love and unconsciously associate with this part of the world. When I stepped off the plane in Mumbai many years ago, it was my first sensation; the same, too, this time around in Kathmandu. In the early mornings and late evenings there are groups of people huddled around these fires, perhaps cupping a small glass of chai, down virtually every alleyway and inter-city vegetable patch. They’re welcoming: you can stop, warm up your hands, exchange a few pleasantries and move on.
Friday the 14th
Today is the first day of the Nepali calendar month Magh, and, appropriately enough, the festival Maghesankranti. It’s supposed to be the end of the coldest winter months and a harbinger of better days to come, but although it was quite sunny today and moderately warmer, it was still quite cold in my freezer box of an office… It’s also a day of ritual bathing in the rivers for Hindus—Devghat being the place and river of choice. And like most festivals, there’s the obligatory food served on a plate made out of sal tree leaves—today it was a sticky ball of sesame seeds and molasses, a piece of raw yam and a hunk of refined butter or ghee. Not exactly lunch, but I always enjoy being able to partake of these little treats. Today I celebrate my major coup—5 litres of precious kerosene for the heater. There we were in the queue—myself and a horde of ragamuffin children sent out by their parents to get the fuel for the night’s cooking, heating or lighting. In actuality, the rise in prices has made it a bit easier to get kerosene, since, I believe, many people are cutting back in favor of cooking over an open fire. Already, public transportation fares have rise, much to the chagrin of the general public—yet another reason why people are taking to the streets…
At work, my new task for the year is to somehow link my new organization with the dalit rights project that my old organization will soon embark on. This will be no easy task, since my new org is quite a bit more strategic in terms of governance and may balk a bit at taking a more secondary role, but, at the same time, Aasaman (ASN) has been receptive to preliminary discussions I have had with them, and my old org, WCDC, also seems interested in receiving some assistance from ASN (particularly if it will give me more time to work on the project) or linking some of their programs (a child labor eradication component) with the overall goals of the dalit rights project. I’m excited that the collaboration could lead to great benefits for both organizations (not to mention beneficiaries), but the devil is always in the details, and I will have to exert quite a bit of effort, I think, in liaising between the two groups. The project will continue for another 2 years—beyond the scope of time that I have committed to stay in Nepal—and already I am thinking that I may be able to extend my time and commit those last few months with the close out of the project, and, more particularly, how to sustain it beyond the funding cycle. But that’s a long way off, and the security and political situation, I assume, will play a large part in my decision.
Posted by david at January 15, 2005 12:21 PM