Not all those who wander are lost

 

The road to Nepal wasn’t the most pleasant of journeys; our two day stop in varanassi quickly became six as Yoav and my guts too, came out everywhere possible, and we were bed ridden on separate occasions with fever, sweats and every possible symptom. Varanassi wasn’t the nightmare it sounds though, yoav caught up on his chess skills with some boys, we saw the ghats from the water, and did feel the gangas beauty as it swarmed with activity and life…At last we were off, but the discomfort continued; buses on bumpy roads, cracked windows that leaked in dust, metal seats and many staring eyes. But finally we made it to Nepal and settled in Pokhara surrounded by snow topped peaks for a few days.I got in contact with an old family friend, Peter, who actually used to be my mums netball coach. For around ten years now he has been living half in Varanasi, India, and half in the mountain town of Naudanda, Nepal. He invited us to come and stay with him and so aboard the roof of the local bus, we slowly wound our way up the mountain to visit. Peters house was perched high on the crest of the mountain range; out one window there were beautiful and immense snow covered peaks, the other, green rice terraced rolling mountains. The days were warm, but during the nights we were pinned down under 5 heavy blankets that were at combat with the cold.Peter and Debu, his friend, had set up a sponsrship program for the low caste children of the village. Friends of his from throughout the world were donating money each month to enable the Naudanda kids to attend school, own their uniform, a pair of shoes and their books. To ensure that these kids stayed in school and up to date with their work, he created ‘ParniKalta’, an afterschool program to help the kids with their English, and homework, and employed local Dalec women to help.

originally we only planned to stay for a few days, however with growing affetion for the kids and belief and support for what peter was doing soon saw us deciding to stay after the Australia-bound departure of Peter and Debu. Life in Naudanda was simple bliss. Each day we woke up to young voices callin “madi” YoaG” “YOVE” singing songs, peaking eyes through the cracks in the wood paneled wall or screaming as they played together on the Parnikalta porch.  Slowly I would drag myself from the warmth (yoav usually slept in, poo to his laziness) and go and sit with them and help them with the work of that day. Sarasawati or Kunti, two especially hospitable parents would bring hot black tea every morning without fail, and would help pull my senses to the day.

 

Infact all the families of the Parnikalta kids were hospitable; they spoke very little English but constantly invited us to stay with them and eat with them. Each meal was in one student’s small and humble mudbrick hut with a filling meal of Daal Baht, (rice, Dahl, and Saag or spinach).  We managed to communicate fairly well, with the exception of constant name mixing; Suroj, sandeep, sudip, sumita, susmita, Asmita, suman, Sarasawati…. Etc.  In general, yoav communicated more successfully, perhaps shedding life on the language tendencies of our separate cultures; my polite and uphemistical, to his direct, clear and to the point methods of communication. For example, one day the task was to explain simply to a mother that we would like to eat with her at one, and my communication abilities were terrible! “um, if its mayb possible, if you don’t mind and its not too much effort, do you think that maybe yoav and I can eat lunch with you? Maybe at about one? Only if its not too much trouble”, and in resonse I hear Yoav laughing hysterically from inside the house and the Nepali woman looking at me utterly confused.

 

 Staying in Naudanda I was able to gain a clearer insight into the diminishing and yet still totally present caste system. Firstly, we lived amongst the low caste kids and families, we spoke with them, we ate with them, we danced and drank “roxy” with them and heard many stories from peter… it was thse people who enriched our experience of Nepal. One day Yoav and I were taking a group of the kids to the bottom of the mountain to wash our clothes in the river. I was with two 12 year old girls and we held hands and sang songs  as we walked through the village chowk (centre). An old woman approached us and began to talk ferociously to the two young girls and look angrily at me. Later I discovered from the girls (who seemed to see these events as totally normal) that she had ‘wished for me to die’ and that I ‘shouldn’t be touching, washing clothes or even with the girls’.

 

Both Yoav and I had an amazing time in Naudanda and met so many beautiful kids.  The families we met too were so welcoming and kind; they tailored traditional nepali clothes for us, one mother gave me an almost complete traditional nepali outfit, they fed us daily, asked us to name a newborn, (we couldn’t and eventually they settled for the origingal ‘sunil’ and danced, sang and welcomed us warmly into their comparatively difficult but happy life. On the last night Yoav and I bought the ingredients for two families who prepared a feast for us, and we helped cook (of course including my favorite Chutney of Sarasawati). We sat around the fire on Peters Porch, had stinted but fun conversation played guitar and sang “let it be” as the kids impressed their mothers with their ability to read the English lyrics we wrote for them, and danced like idiots to bob Marley.

 

We would love to go back there one day and see how they have grown and how the village has changed… but first there is more to learn and see, and after 3 and a half weeks, yoav and I packed our oversized heavy pot and cooker, our acquired clothing, and our guitar, and traveled by minibus eastward through the spectacular rolling country side of Nepal, ready for our next stop, Thailand! 

Tags: , 1, naudanda, nepal, parnikalta, Tag Index

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