First day of school

We arrived on Saturday and the training started on the Sunday. Not being a Christian country, Sunday is not a holiday in Nepal. Our team consisted of Archana, who is the project coordinator for EWN and the other volunteer, Francesca, an environmental engineer who has been living in Switzerland the past few years but is actually half Italian and half German. Like myself, she had quit her job and packed her life away and didn't know what her next move would be next but is travelling for a few months now and in fact, heading for Tibet any day now. In addition, we were working alongside Soroj and Raj who had met us at the airport and Dhan Badur who is the charming chairman of RCDS and lecturer at the local technical college an hour up the valley.

After breakfast, we headed to the offices of RCDS where EWN also has their field office and where the training would be held. I really had no idea what to expect of anything; the place, the day, the women and, of course, teaching. The programme was Women's Initiation in Eco-Tourism Training and the subjects ranged from environmental issues like waste management to hospitality and entrepreneurial skills to hygiene, health and first aid. Every day in the afternoon was the English class. Most of the anticipated attendees were women who run small guest houses with their family. Most had husbands and children whospeak English to the few tourists that come through that region (it is still very undeveloped in terms of tourism) but most of them had little or no English at all. Some hadn't even had any education and were unable to read or write in Nepali, let alone read English letters. So the content we would be teaching was going to be very basic. I had chosen to take the beginners class and Francesca took the people who could speak a little English already.

Archana had no idea how many women were going to actually show up but we were expecting about 30.This was first time she had come as the project coordinator (she had done many trainings before, but not running the whole programme) so she was busy making sure we were ready and everything was in order for our first day. Trainees were coming from villages throughout the whole district and many of them had walked for six or eight hours to get there so were to stay in town for the six days. There was a budget of Rs 300 a day for the participants who did not live in town to cover costs of accommodation, which ended up being somewhat of an incentive for people to come along regardless of how interested they were in the actual course. The training was in the rooftop room of the RCDS building. The RCDS office and the room that EWN rent from them are on the middle floor and another organisation rents space below. The training room was a big L-shaped room with a slanted corrugated iron roof. Throughout the week, the sound of thwang could be heard periodically as another person banged their head from standing up too close to the edge of the room.

By ten o'clock, the official start time, we had only one woman with her 18 month old daughter, but within the next half hour, the women trickled in and suddenly there was a room full of women, chatting amongst themselves as they sat cross-legged across the floor. After the time consuming process of getting all the attendees registered and introductions by a local teacher (apparently the first man in the district to have a masters in English), who is an enthusiastic supporter of EWN's programmes, having had both of his daughters do training with them in the past, the sessions began. On the first day, Francesca and I sat in on all the sessions, partly to get a feel for the programme and also to familiarise ourselves with the women. It would have been great to understand the content, particularly the lively input from the trainees when they were debating various issues, but as everything was not only in Nepali, but in a local dialect that even Archana didn't understand half the time, we could only watch the dynamics and body language - which was interesting enough. All went well and although most of the women were painfully shy when it came to getting up and speaking in front of the group, you could see the majority were incredibly engaged and clearly keen to learn. There were many group activities where they were given big sheets of paper and asked to make lists of things, for example, what they thought were negative and positive impacts of tourism. Then each group had to present their lists to the class. Before long it was lunchtime, although lunch was nowhere to be seen. The morning session was allowed to run over and then there was a period of milling around until the food finally arrived, much to Archana's relief. Potato curry and chapati served up on flimsy, but effective paper plates that were lined with some kind of foil on one side to stop them going soggy. It was actually very tasty and I would have happily had seconds but with over 38 women present along with the team, Archana, Francesca, Soroj, Raj and myself, there was only just enough to go around. Lunch was followed by sweet, milky instant coffee in even flimsier plastic cups. Pretty crap as coffee goes, but when it is the only thing on offer, a cup of hot sweet liquid goes down nicely.

I was starting to get nervous, as my 2 o'clock teaching slot was fast approaching. I had been given the 'course content' and been translating various phrases to use with the group. Soroj was going to translate and assist me (thank god!). I had talked to a few people beforehand and had been told not to expect to go too far, and that it was all about repetition. I stood in front of my class of over 20 women, looking up at me expectantly and took a deep breath. "Namaste! Mero nam Miranda ho - My name is Miranda", to which they all chimed Namaste back, and for a moment I suddenly went blank and thought, I can't do this, what was I thinking? (much like one point on the hike up to Panchassee), but a moment later, I regained my composure (I don't think anyone noticed my panic) and dived back in. By the end of the class, I had a big smile on my face, having had all of them attempt to tell me their names in English. What really made it for me was the smiles of gratitude and hands clasped in farewell as they said goodbye. I was their teacher!

A town called Jumla

Chandranath is officially the name for the district headquarters of Jumla, but I didn't hear it mentioned once in my week there. It is just referred to as Jumla.

Jumla is one of the five districts in the Karnali Zone, which is in the remote Northwest. It is not really feasible to get there over land so we had to travel by bus to Nepalganj (12 hours) to catch a flight the next morning. The flight from Nepalganj takes you over the dusty plains of the Terai giving way to the Mahabarat Hills and finally the mountains. The journey on a twenty-something seater is only 45 minutes, but it feels like you have gone back in time when you step out on to the tarmac of the runway. As we walked toward the chain link gate, heavily adorned with barbed and razor wire, we were greeted by an official holding a big book in which we had to write our passport and visa numbers although he didn't actually check them. Then through the gate into the street to wait for our bags with the assembled crowd, who were there either to greet the arriving passengers, or send off the departing as the plane had already re-boarded with outbound passengers by the time I turned around. A few minutes later and the plane turned around and was off up over the hills back to Nepalganj.

We were met by Soroj, who is the EWN field officer in Jumla and Raj Bhadur, who works for RCDS (Rural Community Development Service) partners with EWN on the mobile training as well as other projects. The bags arrived on a large cart wheeled out into the awaiting crowd and people just grab what is theirs. Simple.

From the airport it was a 10-15 minute walk to Jumla Bazaar. The first thing I noticed as we made our way down the hill was the lack of vehicles. By the time we had reached the guest house, I think I had seen only two motorbikes bouncing along the uneven mud and pebble roads. I had declined the offer of a porter, so was glad when we reached the Amar Sandesh Guest House and was able to unload myself. Since the Mugu training and therefore the trek had been cancelled, I decided to take all my stuff with me in case I chose not to return to Pokhara afterwards.

That afternoon, after settling in, I went for a wander to get the feel for the town I would call home for the next week. Archana and Francesca had been out for a walk earlier, but I had been overcome with drowsiness (from the altitude was my joking reasoning) and had napped for a bit - maybe it was all the excitement. At any rate, I set off alone to get the lay of the land. The town is built at the intersection of two valleys on a series of hills. The streets are mud and stone and the houses are surprisingly solid looking stone brick and wood buildings. It was not long before I was befriended by an old man who insisted that I accompany him to his home for tea. It is rare that I turn down the offer of a cuppa, so I accepted and followed him up the hill to his home. The family were set about to make tea and I was ushered into the living area. I think that the old man, one L.B. Malla, had an ulterior motive as it transpired that his second son was not yet married and I guess in the market for a wife. The old man kept reminding me that his son was unmarried as though I would suddenly propose! The tea was followed up a charred fried egg which was presented to me unrequested. I tried to make excuses that I had to go to dinner shortly, but eventually compromised and shared it with the old man while his sons, wife and a couple of random passing neighbours who had appeared, watched us eat. After a few more minutes exchanging pleasantries with his two sons, who spoke better English, I gave thanks and excused myself. L.B. Malla said he would come and see me the next day as it turned out he is related to the owners of my guest house. I should have known, and in fact, he did show up the day before we left, which was very sweet. My first taste of Jumla was a taste of things to come - open, curious and friendly people and hospitality. I thought to myself, as I headed back to the guest house for dinner of Dal Bhat, I'm going to like it here.

Excursion to Panchasse

I had my visa extension, rented a sleeping bag and was planning two day excursion to Panchasse to warm up in preparation for the trek between Jumla and Mugu. A few days before we were due to leave, Archana informed me that there had been another change of plan and the Mugu training had been postponed because of concerns of political instability. The Mugu training schedule straddled the deadline date for the new constitution and the political parties were showing no signs of resolution. As it is, they are still battling it out now. They didn't want to risk us getting stranded in Mugu or Nepalganj if a strike were to be called again. No Mugu training also meant no trekking from Jumla to Mugu, which was a disappointment, but I reminded myself, I was still going to Jumla and still had the chance to work on this really special project, so I should be thankful for that.

And after my two day hike up to Panchassee, relief was added to my disappointment, as I struggled so much, taking seven hours to do what I am told is a four hour hike, I couldn't imagine how I would have managed a four day trek carrying all my stuff. All steep uphill, mind you, on uneven paved stones... I could make the excuses that I hadn't slept well, eaten properly or drunk enough water, but either way, I was embarrassingly pathetic and my friend, Hakim who had accompanied me, ended up going up ahead and waiting at various stages as my pace was too painfully slow for him.

Coming down the next day, I left Hakim on the gorgeous ridge we had ascended to at last light the previous night. He had time, and the speed to make it to the next peak before returning back down, but I wanted to get back in the afternoon as I had to be ready to leave at 4am that night/next morning for the 5am bus for Nepalganj. Concerned that I might take ages, get lost or have some delay on getting back to Pokhara on the bus, and with various last minute errands to run (canceling the sleeping bag etc), I had opted to set off early to give myself extra time. So I bade farewell to my companion and made my way down the steep hill at a very comfortable and leisurely pace. The "three hour" walk down took me four hours, but I enjoyed the pace without feeling guilty at being so slow and was able to take in the views and soak up the rural surroundings. Men sowing their fields with wooden ploughs attached to buffalos, women harvesting barley, clothes washed in streams and the slower pace of country life.

Gatichine is the village or clump of buildings at the bottom of the hill which is where the road (and bus), starts back to Pokhara. There are a couple of restaurants and I sat in the shade with a much appreciated cold drink to wait for the next bus. It is about 45 minutes back to town and I spent the whole journey with cutest baby on my lap after the mother had thrust it into my arms and rushed off the bus to collect her other child. When she returned, seeing he was happily plotted and I was happy to have him, she just left him there. By the end of the journey, her older boy was asleep on some other passenger's lap too as the bus had filled up and the child had somehow ended up there. Only in this part of the world would a man just have some random boy go to sleep on his lap on a bus.

I took the bus past Lakeside North (where I live) into town so I could run my errands, then I headed back to shower and pack. I had barely been back for a minute when Hakim showed up having returned half an hour earlier. It had taken him less than two hours to get down the hill! I was glad I had come on my own as I wouldn't have enjoyed the journey as much or seen the views as I would have had to watch my feet the whole time.

I would love to go back to Panchassee some time as I didn't get to spend much time there. I only went to the village, Panchassee Bhanyang which hosts the three guest house options up there. The actual temple and pilgrimage site is another hour or so up the next ridge and there is a lake also. It is very beautiful and somewhere I could easily spend a few days – to recover from the ascent among other things! Next time.

Return to Pokhara

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Where to begin?

The place, the project, the people... my week in Jumla was a wonderful and inspiring experience.

I am writing from Pokhara. We returned last night after a long drive from Nepalganj. The eleven hour journey in a private car was absolute luxury compared to the bus we were supposed to get. We had gotten up at 4am to make it to the bus stand at 5. Bags on the roof and seats at the front, we were settled in for the long haul. As is the norm, the bus dillied and dallied, going round the block picking up passengers, the conductor leaning out of the doorway chiming to people on the corner "Pokhara, Pokhara, Pokhara". We went to the main chowk, and then doubled back to the bus stand. And then again, back and forth, the driver and conductor, jumping out at various stages, changing roles and animatedly chatting to people milling in the street, until we eventually came to rest where we started and the engine shut down. This wasn't looking good.

There had been a strike the previous day, but we had been told it was only one day. I guess there were still negotiations going on, and although the conductor assured us that the bus would go at some point, there was no guarantee when that might be. This time, however, it was not a Maoist strike, but the transport union and only affecting that region. So we were stuck, in the dusty bustle of Nepalganj as the oppressive heat of the day began to take its hold - and it was only 6am. We weighed up the options, whilst having chia (tea) and omlettes from a charming stall adjacent to where our bus was parked; a place I had fatefully commented on that morning before we boarded the bus, that it seemed like the sort of place you could sit for hours and watch the world go by. I must watch what I say, I thought, as we sat there wondering what we were going to do. We finally decided to get a private car. Although incredibly expensive in Nepali terms (Rs 12,000 - about £120), it was cheaper than flying to Kathmandu ($92 each) and getting a micro (minivan) to Pokhara. My travelling companions were Archana, the project coordinator for the training and Hasodevi, a nine year old girl who we were bringing back to Pokhara to the children's home that EWN (Empowering Women of Nepal) run. She will live in the home and go to a local school for the next ten years. After seeing her settle in and meet her new family of excited little girls, I set off down the road back to Bishnu Lodge and my little Pokhara family.

More on Hasodevi at some point soon.

Today, I went for my swim in the lake and it was as though I hadn't been away. But I had. Jumla is another world, a taste of Nepal from the past (except for the mobile phones) and an experience that I will never forget.

Which is lucky as I have run out of time now.
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Empowering Women of Nepal - one woman at a time

One of the exciting things about the kind of journey I am on, is the ability to change course if the inclination arises. I am lucky to have found an opportunity that has inspired me enough to (temporarily) give up the plan to head west back to India and finish retracing the steps of my visit all those years ago. I am going to have to finish that another time as I have agreed to volunteer on a training project for a few weeks.

Empowering Women of Nepal (EWN) is an organisation based here in Pokhara. They train women to be guides and porters and offer employment at the end. There is a trekking service and a guest house which supports the project. One of their smaller projects is mobile training and this is what I shall be doing. I am going to teach very basic English to village women from a remote part of western Nepal.

http://www.3sistersadventure.com/EWN/Project/Mobile%20Training/index.html

We are going to fly from Nepalganj (12 hours by bus from Pokhara) to Jumla and teach there for six days. Then we trek for four days to Mugu where we run the same six day course, and then we fly back to Nepalganj from there and return to Pokhara. There are three of us going - me, another volunteer and the project coordinator. I don't know much more but it is a set curriculum which apparently is very basic. The women I will be working with have little or no education and the course is simple so my lack of teaching experience should not be an issue - I hope!

This is exactly the kind of opportunity I was hoping would come along. Since I arrived in Nepal, I have been inspired by different women that I have met. It is known that many customs and traditions here give women a really tough life. That thought has been in my mind a lot since my time spent in Bhaktapur with Meera, who talked about the lot of a daughter-in-law in a traditional Newari family.

When I came to Pokhara and saw the sign, "Empowering Women of Nepal" - it was another kind of sign for me. I went to see what they were about, thinking maybe even during the strike I might be able to help out in the office or something, and I came across another sign that they were looking for volunteers. I am very excited and a little nervous. Whatever happens, it will be an experience I will never forget and I expect it will be much more than that.

We leave on May 14 and return early June. During that time, I will be out of communication - no internet or phone. When we return, I will only have two weeks of my time remaining (my return from Mumbai to London is June 16) and I suspect, rather than rushing to squeeze a little time in India, I will stay in Nepal - explore either Chitwan National Park (although it will be very hot) or somewhere else, and then fly out of Kathmandu to Mumbai - assuming the volcanic ash is behaving itself and the strike hasn't resumed.

So that is it! I have five days now to get myself organised (I need to get a visa extension and maybe buy a sleeping bag) and I might even try to squeeze a little 2 or 3 day wander up to Sarangkot and maybe a little beyond - I probably need to give myself some conditioning for the trekking portion of my trip. I'm not sure if I am more concerned with being able to teach or being able to walk for four days with a rucksack on. I guess we'll just have to wait and see how I fare.
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"Strike open good"

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http://www.nepalitimes.com/blogs/thebrief/2010/05/07/strike-withdrawn/

And like that, it was over.
At least for now.
I was sitting in a tea shop quite late, after 10pm, when a guy listening to his radio wandered in and said, "Strike finish".
Just like that. No strike tomorrow. That was Friday night.

So now, life is suddenly back to normal, although I'm sure the backlog of supplies and people that have been grounded until yesterday will take a while to set right. Locals are jumping back into their daily routines. Costs of goods slowly returning to their normal prices. Buses crammed full of people are grinding past; scooters, motorbikes and cars take the place of the people on foot ambling along in the middle of the road.

The newly unstranded tourists are all trying to figure out what to do now, which plans might be salvageable or what the alternatives could be. There is a chance that the strike could be called again as it was referred to as a 'temporary stop'. It is hard to know - I heard one rumour it was starting again tomorrow, but I think that is just talk. The government is in an interesting situation with a Prime Minister who won't budge and the opposition, the largest party in the house. Hmmmm. Interesting times everywhere it seems. I'm certainly curious to see how the Nepali government will hold, if the new constitution will be ready by May 28 and what will happen if not. It feels like historic times.

I must say it was fascinating being here during the strike. I caught a few demonstrations, talked to different people about how it affected them and their thoughts. And it was so strange with no vehicles around. The nightly two hours when everything was open in town felt somewhat like a street fair as people came out as the evening set in; in the touristy Lakeside area, primarily tourists, going to eat and buy supplies. Restaurants blaring music full blast and trying to entice in as much business as possible in the allowed window of time.

Today when I went for my daily swim, the hoards of kids splashing about just up the beach and the general melee of people loitering around, where gone. There was just a few fishermen there. All the kids are back in school and with the enforced holiday finished, people are no longer just hanging around. Unless you are my fellow guests at Bishnu Lodge. I have been teasing them as their lives have changed very little since before or during the strike. Lots of lounging around, smoking and chia (chai in Nepali). This place is definitely conducive to relaxing. There are many people who are here for weeks and weeks or even months. The pace of life is relaxed, the climate pleasant, it is lush and green and the lake instills a calm - at least it does for me. Overall, as I kept saying, if I had to be stranded anywhere, this was a good place for it. And now, the classic Nepali question: Ke garne? What to do?
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"Day 5, the housemates are getting restless."

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http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8663390.stm



There was a moment this morning when I was seated in my spot on the balcony, talking to the other guests from Bishnu Lodge who had congregated. It felt like we were an episode of Big Brother. A group of people forced to live in the same space and find ways to fill their days. Although we are allowed to leave the Lodge, we are still stuck in a situation beyond our control.

That is unless you are the crazy German guy who set off on his newly bought mountain bike (Rs 2000 - about 20 pound) with his enormous rucksack on his back, for Sunauli, the Indian border town about 140 km away. I had to get his email just so I can find out what happens.

On a heavier note, the situation here is clearly becoming more serious. Even more so in Kathmandu. Shyam and Bishnu's older son and daughter live and study there. The worry is now that they have run out of money as there is no way to send them any with the banks all closed.

The coverage on the news (in Nepali) is extensive, and so far, it has mainly been footage of peaceful protesters, dancing and singing surrounded by hoards of people camped out in the streets. There are a few stories of incidents with people who are trying to work fighting with the Maoists. Or people getting sick for lack of water and supplies. But on the whole the Maoists are presenting a peaceful protest (so far) and considering the masses of people on the streets, that is something.

But this cannot go on for much longer before something gives. The people are getting weary of the strike and their existence being halted. Whether they support the Prime Minister or not, they want the strike to be over now. There were protesters in the street this afternoon, a small group, mainly women shouting and a gang of chanting Maoists waving bamboo sticks being held at the intersection by riot police while they tried to move off the locals. Apparently, most of the Maoists that are in town are from the villages. There are big camps around town where they gather and eat. They march through town on a daily basis making sure that all the shops are shut.



It is interesting talking to the local people about the situation. For the most part, they just want to get on with their lives. It seems there is no indication a resolution is impending so we can only wait and wonder what might happen and how out of hand it could possibly get.

Nepal - closed

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http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/south_asia/8656894.stm

Interesting times here in Nepal. If the Icelandic volcanic ash wasn't enough to keep you here then maybe the Maoists are. The whole country is shut down and waiting to see if the Maoists will eventually get what they want - the resignation of Mr Nepal (that is actually his name), the Prime Minister.

So nothing is open. No buses, taxis, no vehicles on the roads. Shops are shut except for two hours a day (which today I am spending in an internet cafe) and at some point, goods will start to run out as the trucks that bring supplies are not running either. I think the border is closed too. Flights are still running from what I hear, (the only mode of transport other than foot in the whole country pretty much) but I've heard stories of travellers having to walk the 6km to Trivandrum airport in Kathmandu with their rucksacks.

It must making a small contribution to the horrendous air pollution (particularly in the Kathmandu valley) to have no vehicles running in the whole country for what is now three days, but looks set to be quite a few more. It will be strange in Kathmandu to have no traffic, as that is almost one of its defining features. Here in Pokhara, it is just incredibly peaceful. Kids are out of school, so playing in the streets and swimming in the lake. No one is going to work, so people are just hanging out.



The only real sense I have had that there is a political situation was when the Maosists marched through town. The first day there was almost 50 people, waving flags and peacefully marching along, a little chanting here and there - although apparently if they find shops open then they give a warning and then are liable to come back and smash things up if it's not closed. This afternoon, it was a slightly more pathetic troupe that came through, although they were all armed with bamboo sticks. About five minutes before their arrival, someone or other is warned and there is a hurried frenzy of closing any shutters that might be ajar or gates left open.

For me, and my fellow guests at Bishnu Lodge, there isn't really a better place to be stranded. There are two very pleasant thatched huts with tables and chairs set in their lush garden. Shyam and Bishnu who run the place with their 11 year old daughter, Sabnam, are lovely and I'm fast becoming part of the family. And Shyam (pronounced Ssam) is a great chef - he worked for four years in Germany they proudly say - and so we are all getting well fed and doing a lot of relaxing. We are at the north end of the lake, away from the Thamel-esque touristy area . Looking out on to the lake, it is a five minute walk further north to the spot that is suitable for swimming, which is becoming my daily ritual. For now, I really have no complaints under the circumstances. It remains to be seen how long this will go on and I can imagine I would get restless, but when there is really nothing you can do about it, you might as well just relax...